A Court Of Light And Shadow

1

Azriel had winnowed as far home as he could before the bloodbane wreaked it's havoc, pulling and pushing until he was forced out of his own circle of shadows, falling and spinning out of a cloud. He was left with the only options of either drowning in the middle of the sea, or flying the rest of the way home in pitch black night.
Although the former was appealing enough, he bit it through while the wind guided him back to Prythian, bumbling and dodging waves as tall as the sky.

About an hour and a half into his flight, his anxiousness began to eat at him, his wounds were pungent even at his speed. And it wasn't just the bloodbane he smelled- the very last of Hybern had played dirty, multiple poisons now streamed throughout, and a fever was already threatening to take over.
Azriel would have dived into the sea to rinse and try to slow the leeching if he was certain he'd survive, but he was all too familiar with the superstitions that plagued it's waters and had enough to worry about just trying to get home. He admitted it was an idiotic move to risk flying home in his condition instead of waiting for Helion's men- all of which was in hopes of avoiding Rhysand's disappointed wrath. But he couldn't turn back now, even if he'd wanted to.

Two hours into flight, his belly was completely emptied and he was dryheaving.
The wind and his stupid stomach had his already broken muscles and bones shrieking in pain and the loss of blood caused dizzying spells- and anytime it didn't, the unrelenting hammering of rusty spikes through his skull took it's place.
His iron will cracked, and he lowered his mental shield, a simple plea to reach Rhysand- only to be met with silence.
That fucking bloodbane... he vowed to take his time in flaying the bastard who'd invented the abomination, if they were still even alive.

Verging on the 3rd hour, the weathering storms had dissipated and a sort of tranquility set in the blackened sky.
But there was a void that began calling his name.
He no longer heard the wind or his wings, or his pounding heartbeat- only an unfamiliar lullaby.
Beautiful and haunting, it was sung in winds dripped in molasses, low and deep, and he found himself slowing down to listen.
The melody was thick and bright, and held undertones of healing..... and he'd decided to find whomever was playing the mesmerizing instrument.
He flew down closer to the water just as his fever broke, positive the musician had to be near. But his shadows slashed at the air tugging him back towards the sky.
He struggled against them.
He didn't understand- the song seemed to dim his suffering, renewed strength in him. His shadows should be thankful, and were sure to forgive whomever was creating the enchanting piece- Azriel was certain of it.
He flew lower, the woodwinds and brass soaring up from the waves, surrounding him in a beautiful painfree dance. He let his mind drift, relaxed and listening, allowing his wing's to skim over the dark glossy peaks of the sea. He wondered how he'd never taken the time to appreciate the wonder over his centuries .
The sweetened melody paused as he flew even nearer... only for the lullaby to begin again, right in his ears, as if someone was whispering a sacred secret only for him. Azriel was taken aback at first, felt his stomach and shadows recoiling. He wasn't sure if it was out of excitement or fear, but decided to ignore all of them- it was too beautiful of music to pass up. He stared dreamily, the water turning to satin and silk, and he could see the stars reflection in the soft ripples, the galaxy's glowing arms shimmering in it's purples and reds and yellows just beneath.
Azriel reached out a hand wanting to feel beauty.
And at the next wave's peak, he spotted the water trying to reach back. It's silver graying fingers glimmered through the night extending out of the water, passing and skimming the bottom hook of his boot.
He paused, unsure, and slightly confused... until the song urged him on again.
And he knew immediately it was the sea that sang to him, that reached out for him in rich tones filled of silky calmness and luring peace.
He knew what was needed and he braced himself to dive in, to let the Mother heal him- reaching his arm down further, almost touching.....
And the long gray hand, slick and graceful, reached out again for him on the next wave. It reached out so far that he could see the black veins encircling it's wrist, it's pale forearm, where it's muscles twitched with excitement.
The faintest hint of lavender filled the ocean breeze, and a loving voice drowned out the song in his head as it whispered his name.
Azriel‐