A Court Of Shadow and Blood

☆ Attack From Above ☆

The warm interior surrounded him, making his leathers nearly unbearable within the heat. He ignored it however, and made eye contact with Feyre. The female shook her head.

She'd heard nothing about Eblis.

Azriel took a deep breath through his nose and released it, the small inkling of hope falling away. He'd been waiting for word from her ever since the last time they'd spoken, where he had first heard about the child in Feyre's arms, and was given another shard of Eblis's past that cut him just as deep as every other one. She'd left his mind shortly after that, making him regret the few seconds before that he had attempted to push her out. He had not known how much it would pain him for her voice to be ripped away, even if it had only been three days since they'd spoken in person.

Feyre had appeared a day after that, letting him know that nothing had happened, and that they were well on their way to success. She'd filled them in on everything, but only after Rhys had relinquished her. He, like Azriel, had hated every second she'd been in Hybern.

Now, he watched Lilith and Feyre separate. Feyre, in simple leggings and a loose shirt, set Lilith on the ground, gold-brown hair swinging across her face with the movement. Lilith still held on to her pants, as if hanging on to the main thread that linked her to her mother, as they swiveled to him. The small girl beamed.

A scream echoed.

Sharp and piercing, a startled moment of confusion passed along Lilith's face before it shuddered close, her wings tucking into her back tight. Both he and Feyre left the small girl in the Townhouse for a brief few seconds, and stepped outside once more.

The sky, once blue and clear, was nearly black.

***

He launched into the sky the same time Feyre winnowed Lilith away to somewhere safer, the young Princess stoic and still. His wings beat hard as he crested the copper roofs of Velaris, and his vision swam open and wide. The scent of decay huffed over him, faint screams echoing far beneath his legs. The wave of attors, bearing at least two faebane-cladded soldiers a piece, undulated and began a sharp dive. Feyre entered his mind, and that of the rest of the Inner Circle. She warned all of them about the attors and fae, and they responded in kind.

Chaos had descended.

The army had arrived.

Blue blasted out of him in a wave, rising to stop the oncoming forces. His siphons flared over and over as he shielded as much of Velaris as he could, but it did no good as the faebane pierced his magic, and one by one, soon hundreds by hundreds, they descended upon Velaris. He cursed, diving for the foremost point of the wave, and started slaughtering.

Silver and crimson blood and the dark blue of his magic filled his vision, the kiss of shadows sometimes whipping forth to protect him. Though he tried to shut it out, his mind was filled with the voices of his friends and family as they organized themselves. Through the gore, he was alerted that he was to shield the Bone Quarter, and Feyre would handle two other quarters while Amren fought through the forth. Cassian, far away and faint in his mind, was getting Illyrian's airborne and flying to aid others, but it seemed they had their own contingent of soldiers to deal with.

Azriel soon found himself on the ground, booted feet quick upon the stones, and he sliced left and right. Death surrounded him like a fog.

Rhysand handled the Nightbringers, Morrigan winnowed to contact the nearby Dawn Court, and Nesta, a silver fire in her eyes, helped Cassian. Elain and Lilith were watched over by Priestesses of the Library, so he did not worry about them. Instead, he focused on the bat-faced opponent before him.