Heir of Spring

Birds

2 years later
Asta skipped through the forest, winding through the trees and watching the dappled sunlight streaming through the canopy above her. Occasionally she would fish a compass out of her satchel and inspect it carefully, making sure she was headed in the right direction. The compass was a birthday present, from Tamlin. Asta was confused because her father said turning six meant she was very old and experienced, but the boys in the village nearby didn't think so. Miles Fleming, a faerie who towered over little Asta, often talked to her when she was in town. 

"What is the point of having wings if you don't know how to use them?!" He'd say, and his friends would laugh and point at her, their cruel giggles filling the town square. She'd tuck them behind her tightly and walk away as Tamlin had told her to. But when Braelynn was with her, the boys regretted picking on Asta. Even though Braelynn was half the size of the gang, she'd launch herself at them on would only detach herself when an adult yanked her off. Asta smiled at the thought. 

But however much her father and her friend told her to ignore the bullies, their taunts got to her head. So after one last check of her compass, she emerged out of the trees to find herself standing on the edge of a precipice.

Asta stared down at a hundred feet of sheer rock. Smooth round pebbles, displaced by her bare feet, bounced off the rock and fell swiftly to the ground far below. She stepped back and took a deep breath while stretching her wings. Miles Fleming was right. If Asta was going to have wings, she should use them. But whenever she approached the drop, her knees went wobbly and her head felt too light. Maybe a run up would help? Asta debated going back through the woods and finding a smaller rock to practice, but that had never worked before. Asta reasoned that with enough motivation maybe she'd finally catch a gust of wind and fly. 

But then Asta realized her ability wasn't stopping her from throwing herself off the cliff. No, it was the dizzying height that faced her, seeming to grow bigger every time she stuck her head out over the edge. 

The little fae stamped her foot in frustration. The boys were right about her. She was just too scared to learn. Not that there was anyone around to teach her. Asta sighed, and sat down, scooting forward until her legs dangled over the edge. She lay back in the grass, staring at the clouds, and the birds, swooping overhead. Asta wished she was a bird. A big one, like the one that settled on the cliff, a few meters to the left of her. Mile Fleming wouldn't push her around then.

Suddenly, her vision was obscured by a squinting, dirty face. 

"What are you doing all the way out here, Az?" Braelynn asked, "Tamlin sent me to find you." Asta groaned and sat up. 

"I was just... exploring,"
Braelynn raised her eyebrows. 

"Well... your dad is expecting us home soon. I've invited myself to tea." Braelynn offered Asta a hand and pulled her up. Asta dusted herself down and then grinned. She can learn to fly later.

"Race you home!!" She yelled and took off into the woods. 

"Hey!" Braelynn sprinted after her, leaving only dust in her wake.

***

Tamlin gathered the dishes from lunch and put them in Asta's arms as she gave a disgruntled sigh. 

"It's your turn, remember?" He said. 

"Why am I in here, doing dishes, when I could be outside, doing something fun, like saving Prythian, or... fighting dragons!!" She said as she scrubbed a plate aggressively.

"Because the rota says so," he said playfully, pointing to the worn paper stuck to the wall. He smiled, but inside, the words hit home. Memories buried in the past flooded back, and after putting Asta to bed and sending Braelynn back home, he lay down, staring out the window and into the night.

He had no doubts he had made many mistakes, that still haunted him years later. That dangerous anger harboured against High Lady of the Night Court and Rhysand and long since been doused, soon after the arrival of Asta. There is no space for Feyre in his heart when he is consumed by love for his child. He had let the shame of his actions in the past hang over him for so long, and even when Asta was in his life the regret lurked at the back of his mind, a constant reminder of his past. Tamlin turned over and squeezed his eyes shut, banishing the thoughts, and drifted into an uneasy sleep.

The next morning Tamlin woke to the sound of something metal hitting the floor downstairs. He groaned and dragged himself out from under the covers. He pulled out a shirt and trousers and as he did up his buttons, Asta's head popped round the door. 

"Dad?" She said, smiling sheepishly. "I think you should cook eggs." Tamlin smiled and then carried her downstairs over his shoulder. 

"You can't touch the cooker, remember?" He said, setting her down in the kitchen, and picking up the frying pan lying on the floor. 

"But I'm hungry!" She complained as Tamlin lit the fire and cracked the eggs. "And I need to eat soon because Braelynn and I are going to the lake." 

"I'm afraid you'll have to go another time," Tamlin dished an egg onto Asta's plate. 

"Why? Can't I go today?" Asta asked between mouthfuls.

"I'm afraid not," Tamlin sat down beside her. "We are going on a trip."

"Oo, where are we going?" Asta said excitedly. 

"Grab some clothes, it's quite far. I hope we'll be able to stay a night or so." Tamlin cleared the plates and starting putting on his boots. Tamlin smiled nervously. "I need to visit the Night Court."

***

Tamlin held Asta's hand tightly as he winnowed across Prythian, spending around a minute in between every jump to gather his strength and let Asta gape at her surroundings; a forest of orange and red, her toes buried in sweet-smelling leaves of every color, then a flash of glittering black and snow falling to the floor like feathers, surrounded by trees with leaves covered in webs of frost. Another moment of blackness and they were bathed in the pale pink of dawn, with a glittering city in the distance. Asta pointed towards it hopefully, but Tamlin whisked her away before she could beg to be taken there. Asta closed her eyes through the disconcerting magic, and when she opened her eyes, the open fields of the Day Court welcomed her. Tamlin released her hand and put his on his knees, quietly panting. His magic was rarely used anymore, and the exertion of winnowing across the courts was draining him. 

Asta used this freedom to run into the fields of sunflowers. She laughed with glee and grinned back at Tamlin. She was so excited the plants around her grew taller and taller until they towered over her petite frame. She giggled up at them and then ran back to Tamlin when he beckoned to her. 

"Not far now," Tamlin said as Asta wrapped her arms around him. 
When they emerged from between the fabric of the world they were standing on a snowy mountain. Tamlin growled in frustration. 

"It should be here somewhere," he said, scanning their surroundings. Tamlin took her hand again, preparing to winnow once more. 

"WAIT!" Asta yelled. 

"What? Are you okay?!" Tamlin demanded, looking for any signs of distress, but instead followed her gaze into the sky. 

Above them, a group of five Illyrians soared through the cloudy sky. They flew in tight formation, like a flock of birds. Their flight was mesmerizing, the movements so precise and calculated, it looked effortless.

"What are they?" Asta said, still watching them fly into the horizon, their huge black wings flapping. 

"Illyrians. They are the deadly soldiers of the Night Court. If you meet any, be very careful."

"They don't look very scary," She said as they vanished into the clouds. 

"Hm." Tamlin took her hand again. "One more time, okay?" Asta nodded and squeezed his hand, staring at the clouds for one last glimpse of the warriors.

The black engulfed them and a second later they stood in the bustling centre of Velaris, the City of Stars.