A Court Of Love And Family

Chapter 25

Feyre POV

Upon learning that Beron had issued his challenge, and that Tamlin planned to accept, Azriel had returned to the Illyrian mountains to tell Cassian. They had returned a few hours later with several young warriors, mostly female, to show them what happens when High Lords clash. Mor had gone back to the Court of Nightmares to tell Keir. Unsurprisingly, he and most of his Dark Bringers had opted to come anyway.

Most courts are standing on the Spring Courts side, showing Beron what he still had to face if he won. On the Autumn Courts side, the Lady of Autumn is surrounded by her sons, the armies further back. Lucien stands alone, halfway between, torn between going to his mother and standing with his allies. The two High Lords stand opposite eachother, neither carry weapons though claws glint at Tamlin's knuckles and fire wreathes Beron's hands. A priestess makes her way through the crowd and stands between the two males.

"The rules are simple," She proclaims. "No weapons. Just fists and magic. The fight is to the death. May the Mother show you the best course, and guide you safely to the land of milk and honey." The priestess exits the ring as Tamlin and Beron shift into offensive stances.

Beron attacks first, throwing a fistful of fire at Tamlin. He dodges, barely, and swipes at Beron's face with a clawed hand. Blood drips into Beron's eyes and he lands a flaming punch to Tamlin's jaw, leaving a nasty burn. Tamlin growls, shifting further into his beast form. Beron smirks, reaching into his pocket and throwing it's contents into Tamlin's face. A murmur runs through the crowd, since the war everyone was able to recognize the substance for what it was. Faebane. Tamlin wraps his hands around Beron's neck at the same time Beron thrusts a flaming hand into his chest. Tamlin roars and the echo of a crack follows as he snaps Beron's neck. Both males fall.

A golden light exits Beron's chest and floats over to his sons. The light circles them a few times before entering Eris' chest. Reluctantly, his brother's bow. The armies follow suit. Beside me, Mor tenses and grabs my hand.

In the ring, Tamlin attempts to rise a few times before falling still. An identical light to that which had crowned Eris High Lord of the Autumn Court moments before exits his chest. The light hovers over Tamlin's body for a moment before making it's way over to the crowd of Spring allies. The light weaves it's way through the crowd and stops infront of me. It floats there for a minute, considering, before it enters my chest. The crowd gasps.