Wings of Shadow

Chapter 5

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AZRIEL

There was a side of Marzia that he didn't know or understand. Until that day at the Steppes, he hadn't seen her in almost two hundred years, and the youth she was at the Illyrian camp was very different from the female who now walked in front of him. Every step she took was perhaps a bit stumbly but filled with a strength that he didn't know she possessed.

"Of all the places I have seen," she said. "This is perhaps the most beautiful."

He nodded, making a mental note of every bit of information she shared. He wanted to get to know her, even if that meant following her around the city while she aimlessly explored it.

Velaris was alive at night, filled with all different types of fae. The sky had turned a deep violet, speckled with stars as far as their eyes could see. Marzia hadn't been too interested in the jewels or fancy clothing, not even in the artists and their quarters, but she stopped every now and then to look at something and then resume. What she looked at was a mystery to him.

In the Palace of Bone and Salt, she stopped for a little while longer, swaying slightly in the breeze. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and resumed her walk. He realized, perhaps too soon, that she was making a turn back to the house, and he still hadn't said a word to her during their time in the city.

"Tell me," he said.

She spun around to face him, the beginning of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Surrounded by the stars and the beauty of Velaris, she looked like she belonged there, trailing a hand over the bridge along the Sidra.

"What do you want me to tell you?"

"Everything," he said. "Why you pause. Where you were."

A shadow fell across her face, making the beginnings of her smile disappear from her features.

"Many memories. Many places," she said sharply

"Tell me."

Something about his tone softened her sudden harshness, and he knew that she was very far away when her mouth opened again.

"When I left the camp, I was still too young to go too far. I knew how to hunt, so I knew I wouldn't starve. I knew how to fight, somewhat, so I knew I wouldn't die so easily. But, for at least four or five years, I stayed in the Illyrian mountains. I was too afraid to go elsewhere, and too unfamiliar with the rest of Prythian to simply go and explore. I even came back once, to the camp, a few days after you and Cassian had left - they had resorted back to their old ways, and so I left without looking back.

"I traveled far and wide, first within the confines of the Night Court, and then further into Prythian's territory. I spent at least a decade in each of the Courts, exploring all I could find. I ate as much as I could afford, I dressed myself with rags or riches that I could buy - and soon, I began working as a mercenary." She paused. "My wings were a big help; they were menacing and powerful enough that I could travel everywhere I pleased, and they could get me as much money as I requested."

"What then?" He asked, finding a bench by the riverside. He sat down, patting the empty space next to him for her to take. He had noticed that her voice had faltered when she spoke about her wings.

"When I reached the borders of the Spring Court," she continued, taking the seat at his side. "I had two options in front of me. I could either fly to Hybern, or cross the Wall over to the human lands."

He looked up at her face, but her expression was unreadable.

"I hope you didn't go to Hybern."