Chapter Text
The sun started to rise over the salt mines of Endovier. Darkness blending into daylight as 4 bodies rested in the same place as they did the day before. 3 of those bodies were well and active. Their breaths clear in the morning air. Only one singular body lay frozen in time. A body belonging to that of the Queen who was promised. A nameless. Unmoving with hardly a flicker of life in her, and before her kneeled a man, her mate.
King consort, Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius of Terrasan sat before his mate. Head held down as he held onto that string of their bond. That very bond that he could feel loosening and thinning with every minute that passed. He nor his other companions Dorian, and Chaol had moved from their spots since the sealing of the gates had began. They were determine to see this problem done and for both of the royals to come back safe and sound.
And yet his Fireheart was still frozen in time. Stuck, and trapped whenever it was that she and the King of Adarlan had gone to seal the gates. only one of those two royals had come back and it had not been his Queen. For her body was as still a statue, her soul lost to an ancient space that he could not reach.
The Wyrdmarks the young queen had made had started to fade into the ground. Dissolving like little burning sparks into the dirt beneath them. The sight did not ease Rowan at all. It only brought another wave of endless terror. He thrust those thoughts somewhere deep somewhere deep. He refused That perhaps his idea had all been for nothing. He refused his mind to cross that barrier. He wouldn’t give up on his Fireheart.
The endless waiting was tearing at the Prince. He wanted nothing more than to be in the arms of his mate, his queen. The actions of what she had chosen to do were still fresh. Sacrificing her life over a dear friend. It was the sort of thing she would do. She’d never let someone else carry a burden meant for her solely alone. Nameless was her price and she had planned to pay it by any means. Even if those such means destroyed her friends and family.
Just as the sun began to rise over the mountain peaks, it was as if the earth had simply stopped for a second. Like all life around held its breath. Small vibrations shook at Rowan’s knees. He could practically feel the vibrations coursing through his body. Barely there but enough for the three men to raise their heads in confusion. What came next could only be described as a catastrophic event.
The ground suddenly started to shake violently, shocking the three companions. Birds flew from the grounds, flying around in uneven formations and squawking as they fled the abandoned lands of Endovier. The sight confused Rowan as he stood, suddenly reaching for his sword to find the upcoming danger. And like a beckoning call, the sky seemed to crack.
First, a golden-like doorway appeared. Impossibly bright, like the shining sun itself. Ancient runes circling in a portal-like motion, growing wider and wider. As it shone brighter, a thunder-like crack followed, and the doorway seemed to shatter. What came pouring out was thick streams of hot, molten fire, rolling in waves of gold, red, orange, and even a faint blue, coloring the sky in magnificent shades of magic. That very magic seemed to be calling out to his soul, along with it the bond that he once felt thinning, suddenly blooming in his chest, as if burning him from the inside out.
Rowan doubled over as he fell forward on his knee once again. A sharp gasp left his lips as he clutched at his heart. The bond burned, pulsing in his very being, more alive than he ever felt before. It made Roman let out a sob as he raised his head to the sky. He managed to witness a piece of that glorious fire, heading straight towards them at an impossibly fast rate.
Off to the side, he could hear Chaol mutter the word shit as he scrambled a much-looking confused Dorian out of the way.
Rowan was still stuck in place, not able to move as his mating instincts raged. In that brief second, Rowan Whitethorn realized something. The fire, like magic, wasn’t heading for them. It was heading straight to Aelin, his fire heart.
He whipped his head to her, and he wasn’t fast enough as those blazing flames hit Aelin’s frozen body like a rock, the strike of it, causing a blast that almost pushed Rowan off his feet. It took every ounce of training and awareness for the warrior to stay upright. He brought his hand up to cover his face from the heat, his magic starting to work on instinct as wind and ice stirred from beneath his veins. creating a barrier that surrounded him, Dorian, and Chaol.
When he lifted his head again, the sight that greeted him made him freeze in place. Aelin’s eyes were open, a deep, orange, blue flame glowing brightly in the center of her pupils. The flames whirled around her body in a labyrinth of colors. The tips of her fingers burned with fire, the ground burning away at her feet as her hair caught aflame. The bright magic tingling with her very being. She looked like a fire goddess re-entering the world anew, and it all but took the breath from Rowan’s lungs.
“Oh, God.” Rowan could hear either Chaol or Dorian mumble from behind him, from whom he could not tell; the only thing on his mind was the vision of his mate in tune with her magic.
What was breathtaking one second became unbearable to Rowan the next? What he thought were embers from the fire was something else entirely. It was Aelin’s body. her hair breaking off like she was a painting, her fingertips, following next, disappearing like small specs of magic in the rising dawn.
Rowan broke out of his phase of astonishment as he scrambled before Aelin, not caring for the flames that surrounded her. He passed through them, and he found that they did not cause him any harm. As always, his mate could never hurt him.
He brought his hands to her arms, holding them as he spoke her name. His voice came out in a broken gasp. He moved his hands to shake her shoulders. leaning in closer, his face inches from hers. “Aelin, wake up,” he spoke again, his voice breaking. The young queen did not move; however, she stayed frozen, her blazing eyes unfocused as she stared off at nothing. Meanwhile, with every second that passed, more and more of her started to fade. Her feet and hands entirely gone now. her flames circling her closer as if waiting to swallow her whole.
Rowan’s powers worked on instinct to try to ward off the flames trying to take away his wife. The freezing winds whirled around them, mixing with the color of flames. With it, the smell of pine and snow, along with the embers and Jasmine, trapping them in a magnificent world of magic. It was only a great warrior and his queen as he reached to shake her shoulders again. Upon touching her, he let out a choking sound. He instantly grasped his chest. The bond was breaking again, pain followed this time, and it was blinding. The pain took hold of him, his entire body surrendering. It felt like a piece of his soul was being sucked out. Each breath he took was like a stroke to the flame, allowing for the string to disappear.
white spots danced in his eyes as he tried to hold onto that string, his head lifting to hers. Aelin’s entire body was almost gone. The vision broke something in him as he stood. The sudden movement stole the breath from his lungs again. His hands shot out to take hold of Aelin’s face. Her eyes still blaze with her fire, her face unreadable as she slowly faded.
“Aelin, please,” Rowan begged before his mate, tugging harder on their bond, pleading and hoping that it would awaken something in her. His thumbs traced her face, committing every inch of skin to memory, something to hold onto when he knew the inevitable would happen. He saw the sparks of her ears now as they faded her blonde hair, cropped in flames. “I love you, Fireheart, always, and forever.” He thought he saw something flicker in those blazing eyes. He dipped his head as he kissed her, pouring all his love and soul into it, hoping that even in her last moments, she could feel it down the bond.
His hands that once touched skin now only felt air as he watched Aelin disappear in a burst of flame. Her flames igniting the area around him and setting it into fading embers. The sight of it was terrifyingly beautiful in the rising dawn.
Rowan let out a painful sob as he felt his knees hit the ground. A single flame rolling around him, drying his tears before lingering somewhere near his heart. The flame faded and with it the bond, leaving behind a hollow space in his chest.
As he stared off towards the sun in the distance, he could hear a mirage of footsteps, a mix of voices, yelling and demanding to know what had just occurred. Other voices responding in stuttering words.
Rowan could pay attention to none of it. He couldn’t even acknowledge what was happening. Only one thing was plaguing his mind: thoughts of his mate. the mate that was now gone, dead. The thought was a terrible taste in Rowan’s mouth as he stared at his hands.
She’s gone, Aelin’s gone. Something in his chest was so painful it threatened to make Rowan collapse. He opened his eyes, taking another shaky breath as they burned. His hands shook, and he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think; only the same terrifying words played in his head.
Gone, my mate, dead again. I’ve lost another mate.
Everything became secondary to the warrior as his mind couldn’t process the weight of his feelings. the certainty behind them.
You couldn’t save them her, you failed again. Your plan failed.
Rowan thought he heard someone or something call out his name, yet it didn’t register to him. His hands seemed to move on their own accord as he lifted his blade. He could still remember her voice, her laughter, the small moments between them. The night she wore that blasted golden nightgown that nearly took hold of him. Their first mating on the beach, the first time she managed to shape shift. The joy he felt when they raced across those great fields, he could even recall the dream of her and those five children, their children, a family he always dreamed of. The family they’d never get to have together. The thought of a glorious kingdom, she never get to see or rule, all their dreams together gone in an instant.
He looked at his blade, bringing it higher, aimed towards his chest as her scent filled his nose, Jasmine, lemon verbena, and the faint trace of cracking embers. It calmed some part of him as his eyes drifted to the sky, set north of the kingdom she saved. He felt almost at peace as the Blade gleamed in the sunlight. To whatever end. He said the word once and meant it with everything he had. he crossed the world to find her during those endless months of torture. He spent centuries searching for her; hours earlier, he said, if death took her, he would follow. There wasn’t a world in which Aelin left that he would remain sane. Rowan would follow her to the death and hell itself, and he’d be damned if any gods forbade it.
“To whatever end, Fireheart,” he mumbled softly as he pulled the dagger down to his chest. Pain did not follow nor shock. not in the way Prince Rowan thought.
He heard a deadly snarl as Fenrys held tight on the dagger, his other hand, squeezing onto his wrist to prevent him from dealing the final blow. Gavriel and Lorcan were at his back, holding his arms as Fenrys threw the blade somewhere off to the side.
Rowan, still in too much shock to fight back, remained still as Fenrys gripped his collar, another snarl leaving his lips. “Where is Aelin for godsakes, Rowan?”
Rowan stared at his brother in arms, no sound leaving his lips. He had nothing to say, the fight simply leaving his body.
From off to the side, Chaol was staring at the great soldiers with something almost like fear. “I told you she vanished.” He uttered out of breath. “Those flames shot from the sky and engulfed her. her body then started to simply fade from existence.”
“Impossible.” Fenrys hissed, flashing his canines; he had the look of a warrior who refused to believe that the very person he’d sworn to protect was gone, vanished from the face of the earth.
Gavriel was still holding Rowan’s right arm back. His gaze now on Dorian and Chaol. “I thought you all came here to seal the gate. It’s been a whole day, surely the sealing should’ve been completed by now,” his eyes snapped to Dorian. “Your king is here. Did he not seal the gate along with our Queen as well? So why is he here and not she?”
Fenrys looks between them all before finally landing on Rowan again. A look of terrible understanding flashed on his face. “No,” he mumbled, taking a step back. “She didn’t.”
Lorcan looked at each of them, confused, “Didn’t do what? What did she do?”
Gavriel’s eyes fell on Rowan’s, his hold loosening just a fraction as a pained look crossed his features. “The mate bond…”
Rowan made no sound. He did nothing to confirm if the cadre’s suspicions were true. There was no reason for him to. The truth would soon be revealed. Fenrys was no doubt feeling the effects now as a bloodsworn. Lorcan would soon feel the effects as well. Her death would no doubt hit them just as hard. It made him wonder how Aedion would react. How the people of Terrasan would react after realizing just how much their Queen sacrificed for them.
He raised his eyes at last to the face everyone. Trying to will himself to say the words. “She’s-”
And that’s when he felt it, a small tug, something bright, and warm and blooming in his chest once more. That string beating small but beating nonetheless. The mating bond, his and Aelin’s, was still there. It was so small, but he could feel it if he dug deep enough; it was there, fighting, beating strongly. a warning, perhaps, one that his mate was still alive.
Rowan sucked in a sharp breath. Aelin was alive, somewhere far from but alive, and he had almost ended his life. Almost caused her such pain that she wouldn’t have been able to recover from. She was somewhere lost, trapped, perhaps. She could be afraid was all alone, and here he was about to end it all. That would’ve been a mistake. He would have never forgiven himself.
“She’s alive.” Rowan was able to breathe out at last.
Fenrys whipped his head to him. Coming over to kneel before him. “She’s all right? Aelin’s okay?” He asked, his voice fragile and desperate, clearly willing to cling to any information he could get.
Rowan had to calm his heart before he could speak again. he turned his head to look back. “You two can release me. I’m not going to hurt myself.”
Both Gavriel and Lorcan briefly shared a look as they reluctantly released Rowan’s arms.
“You said she’s alive?” Gavriel asked. “then where is she? Chalk said she disappeared, disintegrated into thin air that doesn’t sound like she’s fine to me.”
Rowan rubbed his chest, dividing all his attention to the bond. He felt nothing from the other end, but just from the fact that it was there meant Fireheart was okay. And for now, that had to be enough for now. “She is alive; she may not be here, but she is still breathing. I can feel the bond, it’s faint, but definitely there, so she’s alive.” He looked off somewhere north. “ She’s out there, somewhere.”
Elide came over, resting her hand upon Lorcan’s arm, most likely calming the raging storm in him. She glanced down, letting out a sigh. “We just found her now, she’s lost again. It is starting to seem like luck is not on our side.”
Gavriel crossed his arms. “We’re supposed to march upon Terrasan in a few weeks, and now we don’t even have our queen. She’s lost, disappeared somewhere, that’s what? unreachable?”
“Yes,” Dorian said.
Everyone turned towards the young king. His eyes were glowing a deep sapphire, his fingertips prickling with ice, the wind around them all turning cold.
Chaol eyed his king weirdly as he stood. “What are you talking about?”
Rowan took a step forward. The chill did not bother him in the slightest; he reveled in it. “I thought half of your magic was gone. Right when you were sealing the gate.”
“It was.” He uttered quietly. Dorian had his own look of surprise on his face as his eyes seemed to marvel at the magic flowing through his veins. He lifted his gaze once more. “She’s out there somewhere. Where we went to seal the gate wasn’t of this world? Hell, I don’t even think it was a part of any universe. We were in some other sub-space entirely, maybe in between the boundaries that separate life and death.”
Chaol stared at Dorian, dumbfounded. “What are you trying to say? That Aelin could still be in that space or a whole other world.” Chaol let out a nervous laugh at his final words, but when he noticed the serious look on Dorian’s face, he quickly went silent.
Feneys, on the other hand, stood groaning. Lifting a hand to run through his hair. “All of this is giving me a fucking headache. You’re trying to tell me my queen is alone in some space or possibly another world.
“It’s a possibility,” Dorian mumbled. “There’s no way of knowing if she got trapped. I don’t even know if she was able to seal the gate.”
“What does that mean about Erawen?”Elide asked the question they all dreaded. “Does that mean he could still be out there? along with his army.”
Rowan thought he could hear Gavriel swear under his breath.
“It doesn’t matter,” Roman announced.
“Like hell it doesn’t,” Lorcan growled.
Rowan fixed the male with a death stare of his own.
“So what do we do now?” Gavriel questioned, clearly trying to keep the peace.
Rowan picked up his blades, sheathing them all as he took a breath. The look of a determined male crossed his face. “First, we make our way to Terrasan like Aelin wanted. Terrasan’s armies and the others should hopefully be able to hold off until we arrive. Once we arrive, we’ll help with the battle, and maybe with luck we’ll win the damn thing.”
“And after that?” Fenry’s moved to face him. “What will we do then?”
Roman dipped his head, staring at the ruby ring on his finger. running his thumb over the stone. His mind swirling with thoughts of his mate, currently lost to their world. A fierce resolve building in his chest. “Then we’re all going to search for our damn Queen and bring her back.”
In a quick flurry of darkness, Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, and Amren appeared at the base of the mountains that made the prison. The bone gates leered high above them. The wind moaned louder than usual, and a sense of power so unknown lurked somewhere.
In the distance, the prison captives moaned, and voices drifted far. The voices mixed with the wind. Howls and cries of the sudden commotion that all of Prythian felt. Pounding against their cells, some in fear and others intrigued, wanting to find the source of that magic. As if they too could sense the unknown star that now rested somewhere in these lands.
Cassian, on Rhysand’s right, let out a shudder. His face grimaced into something that was a mix of disgust and slight fear. “Gods, do I hate it here. It feels even more nerve-racking than usual.”
Rhysand placed his hands in his pants pocket. Observing the prison and land beyond. He could sense the disturbance that the star caused. The imbalance it was bringing to his land. He found he didn’t like it one bit as his own facial expression dimmed. “We don’t have to go inside, brother. I can sense that the star is further away from the prison than inside it.”
Cassian let out a breath that was something like relief, his wings curling tighter. “Thank the cauldron. If that star landed in the prison, we’d have a whole other problem on our hands than just finding that power.”
The thought itself didn’t bring peace to the High Lord of Night. The star may not have hit the prison directly, but its inhabitants still felt its lingering power. Enough that it was causing them distress. Lanthys himself had only been slain by Nesta a month and a half ago. The news of his death was still fresh. The creatures already thought of her as a death god. With this new power, they were bound to be more unsettling in the coming months.
Amren was silent, her gaze on the mountain. She had been trapped here for years, centuries before Rhysand himself had freed her. Amren may rarely show such emotion, but Rhysand knew how old wounds could still linger as fresh as the day they were made.
Amren snapped out of her trance as her eyes narrowed and she glanced at Rhysand. “Do you feel that?”
“Feel what?” Cassian asked.
“The ward boy. There’s tension. Unbalance.”
Cassian’s brows furrowed as he looked out at the prison. Crossing his arms as his wings fidgeted. “That’s not a good sign.”
Rhysand spared a glance back to the prison. Those ancient wards. He could feel them, as strong as ever. But they, too, felt different. They were fraying. Flickering slightly. Barely noticeable to average fae. But to a High lord such as Rhysand, it was all but enough.
Azriel stood unmoving to his left. Hanging back just a bit. Arms folding over his chest as he tilted his head to the side. His shadows curling at his feet. Those dark tendrils that always seemed to follow his brother now surrounded him once again. Two shadows in particular lingered on his shoulders, twisting at his ears as if whispering secrets only the Shadow-singer was prone to. The sight made Rhysand tense up. “What are they saying?”
Azriel at last lifted his head. “The star lies north, just a few blocks from here. Hidden behind the jagged circle.” Azriel went silent once again. Turning his head as another shadow tickled his ear. His face took on a darker expression as his body tensed with something like surprise.“They say… it has the silhouette of a person.”
“You’re telling me that damn star is a person!” Cassian seethed, his wings flaring slightly, “What type of person can possess power that sweeps all over the whole of Prythian?”
“Quiet boy,” Amren said. “We may not be at the gates of the prison, but those creatures have other ways of obtaining information that doesn’t involve hearing.”
Azriel didn’t join in on their argument. Only sparing a glance at Rhysand. Noticing the silence that had been taken on by his High Lord. “Rhys?” he questioned. “How do you want to approach this?”
Before he could respond, a rush of wind and power appeared beside Amren, earning a scowl from the small woman. Mor at last appeared. Looking rather ruffled. “I’ve gotten Feyre to safety. She’s currently with her sisters. The rest of the guests have all departed, but no doubt have questions.” She looked up and stared at Rhysand directly. “Heliom and Kallias have many questions, Rhysand. They would like the answers to these questions rather immediately. Kallias doesn’t appreciate that blast of power that could have been a threat to his wife and child.” Mor flipped some of her hair to the side, sighing. “Luckily, I managed to convince Viviane to convince her husband to retreat. But Helion, on the other hand, has stated he’ll be expecting a response on whatever that was in the upcoming weeks.”
Cassian let out a groan. Fingers curling into a fist. “Great, now we can expect that the other 4 high lords to be questioning us as well.”
Mor ignored Cassian’s complaints as Azriel came over to fill her in. Mor listened carefully before looking to her cousin.
Rhysans spared another glance north. His power hummed under his chest. Sensing that star far away. He glanced back at his court and nodded. “We head out. And we’ll just exactly who this person is that landed in our court.”
They all walked in silence through the lands surrounding the prison. The land itself was barren and grey. Covered in stone, ash, and air fit for unseemly things that lurked in the shadows. They passed many minor dunes, caves hidden underneath grounds, and decaying trees. It was so quiet that you could hear the rustling of the wind. Not a living thing to be found. Not a single member of his inner court dared to speak. The tension in the air was heavy, the power as well.
It wasn’t long until they reached the jagged circle. Huge pillars of cracked stone arranged in a deep circle. The points so jagged and sharp like teeth. The sight would bring unease to a young fae. Rhysand never did know how or why these pillars appeared this way. Perhaps it had always been shaped to look like that, or maybe a Fae from long ago had done this. It didn’t cause any problems until now, that is.
Rhysand held his hand back, stopping the rest of his court from taking a step forward. “Do the rest of you feel that?” The air now was changed. Not something dark, but bigger, ancient. A smoldering heat that threatened to steal the air from their lungs. Something rich that Rhysand had never felt before.
Azriel’s shadows flickered at his feet. As if recoiling from whatever it was they were feeling. Azriel frowned at the sight. “Whatever it is, my shadows aren’t liking it.
Cassian shuddered, closing his wings. “Your shadows aren’t the only ones who don’t like it. It’s practically screaming for us to turn around.”
Mor and Amren were less shaken. Though Mor was gripping her arms with a frown. “My power doesn’t like this. It can sense the depth even now. That star was huge, carrying something great that we don’t know of.”
Amren, as usual, had her scowl as she moved to stand beside Rhysand. “We will get nowhere just standing here and worrying for our lives. The sooner we address this threat, the better.”
They all walked forward toward the center, and lingering smoke and burning marks could be seen. Practically covering the entire area in a scent of embers and perhaps faint lemons. In the center of it all lay someone. A woman, unconscious and on her back. One hand on her belly, a golden emerald ring shining bright on her finger. Her hair was long, fanning around her in light blond golden strands. Her skin was pale and stricken with some ash. At her neck lay a shining amulet with two connecting pieces. The carvings of a white stag, bright with a crown in between its antlers. A great sword with a ruby center was strapped to her back. The ruby at the hilt burning a bright red. On her forehead was a marking engraved there. Still glowing a faint deep blue.
“It’s a female,” Cassian uttered faintly as they all stood before her.
“She’s Fae,” Azriel said to no one in particular.
“You’re telling me this female caused all that power?” Amren huffed, moving closer.
Mor moves closer, crouching down beside the woman. Hesitantly raising a hand over her forehead as if deciding whether or not she should touch her. She brushed more of her hair back, wincing a bit. “Gods, she’s burning up.”
Cassian snorted. “I’d bet she is. Did you see how much power she released?”
“We don’t know for sure that the power was hers.” Amren went on. “For all we know, that power could have been something else, and that girl just got caught up in it.”
“Amren, now even you aren’t that naive to think that,” Cassian uttered with a snort.
Rhysand stared down at the female. The thought of this female having caused such an uproar within his court, and on a night like starfall. The people would no doubt utter that this was some omen. Whether it would be good for Prythian or not, he did not know.
He narrowed his eyes at the mark above her brow. Turning to Amren. “That mark. Do you know what it is, Amren?”
Amren shook her head. “I’ve been alive for a millennium and have seen many things in my time. But that mark is not one of them.”
Mor continued to study the woman. Touching her face lightly. “She looks young.”
“We’re Fae Mor. We all look young.” Cassian stated.
Mor sucked her teeth at him, waving her hand behind her for Cassian to shut it. “I know that, but she looks young, especially.”
Rhysand continued to examine the girl. She did look young, but that meant nothing to fae. The unconscious look on her face was somewhere between peaceful and annoyed. Like she was fighting some battle even while asleep. Rhys supposed she was considering the power surge she let out. Perhaps she was still fighting that unknown battle with her power or some other force.
Rhys glanced at Azriel and Mor. “Remove her jewelry and the sword at her back. I would like for the female not to wake up and attack us on sight.”
Mor nodded as she carefully slid the ring off the woman’s finger. Cassian crouched down beside them. Pushing the woman up so he could take the sword strap to her back. The sword slid out of its sheath with ease. The silver glimmered in the brief night. The hilt was golden all the way down to where the ruby burned. Its color went down to a dull crimson as Cassian held it further away from the unconscious female.
Cassian let out a whistle as he held the sword, turning it over to view it. “That’s one nice sword. That ruby is brighter than my Siphons.”
“Don’t play around with the damn thing, boy. For all we know, the female could be wielding a sacred weapon. Perhaps made.” Amren seethed. Those words made Cassian stiffen as he handed the sword to Azriel.
Azriel frowned. “There are only 3 made weapons in existence. Along with the great sword Gwydion. It wouldn’t be possible for there to be a fourth.” “And yet before tonight, it was possible for a fae to hold power strong enough to surround Pythian.” Amren countered back.
“Her amulet..” Mor uttered quietly.
Rhysand crouched down. “What of it, Mor?”
“It has the same marking as the one on her forehead.” She proceeded to hand it to Rhysand.
The amulet looked delicately made, like something belonging in a vault sealed away. His fingers traced the stag before flipping it back and touching the marking. His power hummed, recoiling a bit. Whatever this necklace was, it was important. He felt nothing from it now, but perhaps it had been something ancient in its past life.
“It looks precious,” Azriel murmured from beside him.
“I feel that it is,” Rhys said. “Something about this amulet is special. Or at least it was, I still feel faint traces of something within. From magic or something else I can’t quite figure out.”
“It looks like it could be a family heirloom,” Mor uttered, now standing by the group again. “Perhaps…“Rhysand mumbled. “But I know of no family in Pythian having a sigil like this. "
“Maybe the woman just found it? There are many treasures lost from long ago that have yet to be found again.” Cassian added.
Rhysand noticed Amren moving closer to view the amulet. He lowered it for her to see. Watching as his brows pinched. “Looking at it more closely, it could be another language. It reminds me of the ones I’ve seen in the books of breathing.”
“So what you’re trying to say is this female has markings of an ancient language no one knows about? Totally not concerning.” Cassian said under his breath.”
“I don’t know if that could be the case. The book of breathings is gone, lost in the cauldron forevermore. Whatever that symbol means, we’ll have to find out another way.”
Rhysand nodded and glanced at his cousin. “What of her ring? Did you find anything special about it?”
“Besides, it being crafted well and beautiful? No. I simply think it was for show.”
“Good. One less thing for us to worry about.” Rhysand continued on.
Cassian placed his hands on his hips, stretching his wings out a bit. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way. Whatever are we to do with her?” He ushered towards the unconscious female.
Rhysand frowned, staring down at the woman. This fae woman could have very well been innocent. Someone who was possibly caught up in something bigger than she was ever meant to be. And perhaps she was, but the thought didn’t change the fact that she was the star gliding across starfall. That she had let out such power, power that rivaled a high lord’s, the cauldron. Perhaps something greater than this world could comprehend. It strikes a certain fear in the High Lord. Fear he had not felt in a long time.
Rhysand finally raised his head to face his inner court. “As of now, she is to be treated as a threat. Anyone with that much power is either a lucky born bastard or someone with goals that shouldn’t come to the light of day.”
His court all stood and stared with serious looks. They all understood what it meant when their high lord became serious. This matter was far from over and would be one that would, without a doubt, affect their court deeply.
Azriel moved forward, picking up the female and holding her in his arms. He glanced at Rhysand, and in turn, Rhysand gave him a nod. You know what to do. With that, Azriel disappeared in a swirl of shadows.
Rhysand turned to the other 3 members. Placing a hand on Cassian’s shoulder. Amren moved close to Mor as they all stayed silent. And with that quiet conversation, the night court disappeared.