Azriel, the spymaster of the Night Court, one of the most powerful Illyrians to walk Prythian. He was damaged, he was broken, and he thought himself evil. He found solace in his darkness and in his shadows.
Gwyneth Berdara, a priestess in the libra...
"holy water cannot help you now, thousand armies couldn't keep me out, i don't want your money, i don't want your crown. see, i have come to burn your kingdom down." - seven devils
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Gwyneth Berdara was always comforted by the stars. There was a time when she too, had doubted the beauty of the Night Court, and she could not see much of Velaris from the library. It was only when she began her training, that she could truly see.
That was part of her reason for loving nightly training sessions, that and too make sure she was not rusty for training. When she wanted something, she worked at it until she got it.
It came as a surprise to her when she found herself in the company of the Night Court's shadowsinger once more, after the winter solstice. She had been practicing her sword-work, when she heard light footsteps, so light she would not have heard it if she did not have fae hearing.
She turned, and found the shadowsinger surrounded by his shadows that coiled around him, enveloping him in a darkness that made him look so ethereal.
Like a prince of the shadows. She grinned at him, and the shadows.
"Hello," she greeted. The shadowsinger turned around, surprised at the presence. His shadows had once again, not alerted him. He eased when he saw the coppery-brown hair and teal eyes of Gwyn, and smiled faintly at her.
"Hello, Gwyn." He said simply. His heart fluttered as he heard a slight giggle release from her lips, and his eyes darted to her and he saw a few shadows swirling around her, whispering their adoration for the pretty redhead. He blushed in embarrassment.
"I'm sorry," he muttered. "They don't usually do that,"
"Don't be sorry!" She insisted, playing with the shadow that coiled itself around her finger. "I like them."
His heartbeat sped up at that. She liked his shadows?
She raised an eyebrow at his silence. "What, shadowsinger?"
"It's just, nobody has ever said they liked my shadows before." he said simply, and she frowned.
"Why not? They're lovely, like little friends." She cooed, at the shadow who Azriel had lurched back to him.
They were whispering in his ears. We like the pretty nymph, she is beautiful.
