3rd POV
Eris winnowed away with Carina in his arms, and half a second later, Beron followed with a wicked grin. A victorious grin.
Keir excused himself from the room, silently celebrating a victory against his High Lord. There would be consequences for him, but they would be tame; lest it get reported back to Beron, and Carina be used like a pawn.
A cool darkness exuded from Rhysand, a strange fire in his eyes, as he contemplated the ways to save his sister. He didn't calm down until Feyre put a hand on his back. She brought him back to the moment. He was angry, furious even, but that wouldn't help his sister. Carina needed a way out, not a fighting chance.
Cassian stepped back, he had only seen Rhysand turn this way a few times, the number could be counted on one hand. All in times of war, or losing a family member. And once he got into a destructive rant, there was no stopping a High Lord.
Cassian told his brother, "We just got Carina back. We're not giving up on her now."
"You saw the agreement." Rhysand seethed, "Beron wouldn't have claimed her if there was some way out of it. He wanted her, so he got her."
Azriel growled, "We have to get her back. I can go and get her—"
Rhys commands, "No. We're not starting a war. Carina wouldn't want that. We can't afford that, not with the War Camps. Keir has their favor... for now."
"With all the change you keep pushing with the War Camps, they aren't going to be siding with you. Especially with banning clippings." Cassian reminds him.
"If you let the Camps overturn that, you'll destroy years of work. And Carina would never forgive you, Rhys." Mor says quickly, not even waiting for Rhysand to debate that option.
"I would never." Rhysand shoots at her, offended that she would think the worst of him.
Nesta offers to break the tension, "I'm can begin to search the library, see if there's anything that can break the agreement."
Feyre suggests, "Can we tempt Beron with something else? To trade for Carina?" Perhaps she was thinking about the Cauldron made knife Nesta made, or the way she danced in and out of Eris's arms. They were greedy creatures, most Fae were, but they wanted power. That was dangerous to barter with.
Amren chuckles darkly, "This is a power move to him. To put Rhysand in his place, you realize that, right?"
The room goes silent for a moment, as they consider the Second's words.
"But why?" Mor was brave enough to ask.
"Rhysand is the most powerful high lord, and the most controversial. He is the only one with a High Lady. He came back from death, bringing me with him. The Fae don't like to see their rivals thriving, cheating death and the laws of nature. Beron reminding you of your place as the High Lord of Night, which you have been slightly overstepping lately."
Rhysand sighs, "And Carina's paying the price for it."
Feyre pointed out, "We still have Eris on our side."
Mor snorts, "Do we? His father is manipulative and controlling, no one is safe in the Autumn Court."
"If he knows what's good for him, he'll protect her. If he wants that throne, he has three, or two other brothers set to inherit the crown." Feyre said, cringing that she forgot about Lucien's banishment, and the dead brothers.
"We need answers." Rhysand says and he gives Feyre a solemn nod.
"The Prison?" Cassian shudders.
"Who's bones?" Amren asks, intrigued what they have to barter.
Rhysand says, "If I have to cut off my finger and give him that bone, so be it." He was serious too.
Feyre questions, "Rhys?" She had rarely seen him like this. Situations like this seemed to put the centuries between them.
"What?" He asks.
She brings up, "Does this have something to do with the prophecy Elaine gave last week? She said that touching Carina triggered the vision."
"No wonder she loves the gloves. It helps her feel normal." Nesta recognizes. It also made sense why Elaine tended to isolate herself from everyone. The voices could seem so loud sometimes.
Mor says, "There is no such thing as normal now."
Rhysand pulls Carina's memory, and begins to write the prophecy on a page.
"Serpent's bone cut from teller's blade
Stars burn by the seeker's sword
All to stop the undead horde
Fate prevents an ancient strand
Of one who calls to fire
To save his land from decisions dire
Reflections show ghosts
Only so many secrets can darkness hide
Before her river of stars have dried
Shadows mix and visions tangle
Sun shall shine true and brave
Only division shall save
The fate of Fae
Of suns, of clay,
Of flames, of swords,
Of shadows, and of chords"
Azriel asks, "Is it about Carina?"
"She triggered it from Elaine, so possibly. Should we ask your sister about it?" Rhysand asks.
"Yes. She has to know more than we do." Feyre states, and Nesta agrees.
Feyre steps out of the room, and pulls her sister into it.
Azriel steps closer, and Elaine backs away. For once, she avoids his gaze.
"Did you see anything from the vision?" Rhysand asked his sister-in-law.
"Glimpses. Of the future and the past. Of Eris, and Carina. They are connected, but I don't know how. Other than that, it's spotty," Elaine admits.
"The end seems to be talking about multiple people though. Six, in fact." Amren tries to piece together.
"One away from perfection. The number might have meaning to the prophecy." Feyre offers.
"Shadows?" Mor asks sarcastically, and then points at Azriel, "That's you."
Azriel clears his throat, questioning, "Who's the sun?"
"It's not Helion." Elaine says, only confusing the group further.
"Clay? Is that literal, or is that referring to the earth? Or the ground?" Nesta moves on quickly.
"Prophecies are rarely literal." Amren speaks from her experience.
"Chords?" Feyre questions. "Not cords, but musical chords." She clarifies.
"Music is powerful, think of the Syrens." Mor brings up.
"They have magic of their own. And besides, they are lesser Fae." Azriel says. They don't even speak the common tongue.
"Flames." Cassian states.
Nesta snorts, "Like we have to guess that one."
Eris.
"Ghosts, night, sword, stars, all those could be Carina. It makes sense," Rhys said, thinking of his sister. His magic was superior, but her aim was sharper. A sword fight between the two siblings might end in a High Lord at a loss.
Nesta pressed on the subjects they didn't know, "What does it mean serpent? Or undead horde?"
"Could it mean the World Swallower?" Mor asked Rhys gravely.
Cassian cringed, and Azriel bristled. From Illyrian lore, the World Swallower was a snake that slept deep in the Earth. One day, it was said to have a hunger that could eat the Earth. But an Illyrian witch binder the creature to a sword, and whoever wielded, controlled the snake. They bided it back to sleep, and the sword, was long forgotten with history.
"Let's pray it is not." Amren said.
"And let us hope Carina is doing better than we are," Mor says, wondering what her cousin was doing in the Autumn Court.
YOU ARE READING
The North Star
Fanfiction[DISCONTINUED UNLESS I HAVE READERS COMMENT ME THAT THEY WANT MORE, IF SO, VERY SLOW UPDATES] As much as he'd like to forget, Rhysand isn't an only child. It's been a few hundred years since his sister had died, and every since that day, he had neve...
