Intangible - An ACOTAR story

Five: Red, Green and Glorious Blue

Azriel glided toward it on silent wings, his hand resting on Truth-Teller's pommel. As the green glow drew closer, it seemed to pulse, as if beckoning him toward it. Azriel was flying low over the trees now, the world strangely silent around him. He tried to listen to his shadows, to hear what they could tell him about all this, but they were quiet too. An uneasy feeling was building in Azriel's gut. Something about this wasn't right at all.

Az contemplated finding the others so they could approach whatever this was together, but then he felt it. Azriel's ears grew muffled, as if he had ducked his head underwater. He felt a slight throbbing in his temples and shook his head to try and clear it. It just kept getting stronger. Shit. Azriel tried to pull out of his glide toward the clearing, but his wings wouldn't respond. Shit, shit, shit. He had completely lost control of his body. Azriel tried not to panic, keeping his breathing even, but his mind was screaming at him that this was wrong. Screaming at the loss of control.

As he finally cleared the trees, Azriel flinched at the blinding light that greeted him. He realised that the source of the green glow was a writhing, flaming serpentine creature. It hovered at about head-height in the centre of the clearing, twisting and slithering through he air in a cocoon of green fire. Its scales were the same sickly green as its flames, and as it turned toward him, Azriel caught a glimpse of its eyes. They were blood red, with a slitted black pupil. He landed silently in the grass.

He couldn't move. He couldn't look away from those eyes. The throbbing had reached the point of agony, as if someone was banging on the inside of his skull with a hammer. The pressure in his head was growing unbearable, blocking out all other sensations but the pain. Those red eyes. The green fire.

A tendril of that flame snaked toward him, and Azriel had enough sense left to know he shouldn't let it touch him. With a massive effort of will, he summoned his shadows, which had fled from the light of the flames. They crawled toward him from the tree line, so painfully slowly, even as that tendril of fire slunk forward from the other direction. Then the voices started. He didn't know what the others had meant by whispers. The sounds that filled his head were deafening.

"Are you scared Az? Are you scared of us?" His stepbrother's mocking laughter echoed around his mind followed by a chorus of insults from his father and stepmother. He tried to push them out, to will his shadows closer. Then it was Gwyn's sobs before he'd rescued her from Sangravah. The sounds of his friend's pain and terror tore at Azriel's heart. Elain came next, her voice full of cold venom. Her words speared above the chorus of screams and insults in his mind, and he heard those words over and over and over again. Az yanked on his shadows, trying to wrap them around himself like a cloak. Shield himself from the fire and the voices, even though he knew they wouldn't reach him before that repulsive fire did. He wasn't strong enough. Wasn't-

A bolt of darkness cleaved through that tendril of green. Those red eyes broke Azriel's gaze to his left. They narrowed, then widened in what could only be called shock.

That shadow. It wasn't his. It had a slightly different quality, a different shade of black maybe. Another deadly bolt of darkness shot for the serpent just before its owner barrelled into the clearing.

With the flaming serpent's gaze averted, he knew he could move, but Azriel just stood there, staring. The male was... he was stunning. There was no other word for it. And, Azriel realised with fear or joy or shock or something he couldn't quite place, that the male was a Shadowsinger.

He had short, black hair scattered with streaks of brown. The male was slightly shorter than Azriel and had a lean, slender build. A tattered, black and grey cloak was slung across his shoulders, pulled back to reveal Illyrian leathers that appeared old and far too large. It was his eyes, though, that had Azriel frozen in place. Ice blue, flecked with cobalt. He'd never seen such beautiful eyes, despite the sick green glow that reflected off them. The other Shadowsinger was sending spear after spear of darkness into the heart of that green flame, the blood-eyed serpent twisting and shrinking from the power. The male's teeth were bared in a grimace and veins were popping out on his neck as he held his ground against the serpent. He turned those stunning eyes of his to Azriel, who wanted to shrink from the intensity of that stare.

"Move you idiot! Move!" 

Az was snapped from his trance at the male's sharp voice. He sprinted in the direction that the male had come from, noting the almost silent footsteps that kept pace with him as he ran. Azriel tucked his wings in tight, although he still felt the sting and bite of twigs and brambles as the forest tried to ensnare him. Tamlin really had let his hands go if the forests had grown this wild. 

Az hurtled in the general direction of the willow grove, not knowing where else to go. He would have flown, but the other male didn't appear to have wings, despite what the reports had suggested, and Azriel wouldn't leave him. So, they ran. Two Shadowsingers fleeing the tendrils of sickly green flame.

***Guess who! Haha. I'm so excited to start writing this new charaacter!

Thanks for getting this far. I hope you enjoy the next chapter. You could say it's something a little... different. Comments and votes appreciated as always. :)***