---


Azriel could barely keep his rage in check as Rhys questioned the Capitan of Illyrian forces in EastSky, a Camp near the sea. His spies had informed him about a correspondence with the Faerie lands.

If there was any kind of alliance forming, they had to crush it before they could be betrayed.

Rhys was getting impatient after countless interrogations that'd led nowhere.

"Leave," Rhys said, his tone cool as he took on the persona of the High Lord.

The Illyrian warrior spat back as he stood up, "It's not us you should be focusing on, but rather the traitor in your circles."

Azriel's blood boiled as he struggled to keep a hard face.

Next to him Rhys purred, "Is that so?"

Azriel observed how fear struck the warrior's features as he stuttered, "Yes, just ask Maurice, he will tell you." The coward ran out of the tent like his legs were on fire.

Rhys turned back to his friend with a raised eyebrow. His question didn't need to be spoken aloud, Should we hear what this Maurice has to say? Azriel just nodded and a minute later Maurice was sitting in the chair before them.

He was not what Azriel imagined a warrior should look like. Maurice was old, his different-coloured eyes watched the High Lord with ease, like he'd seen worse things in his long miserable life.

"Well," Rhys said at the old man who just stared back at him blankly. "We were told you had information about a particular 'traitor'." Rhys's violet eyes darkened as he tested the knowledge of the old man.

"So it would seem," Maurice spoke, his tone was husky with a mysterious question in each word.

"Tell us what you know," Rhys demanded, not intimidated by the man in the slightest.

"Why don't I show you, your Highness," Maurice was without a doubt establishing his position. His far older and wiser position.

Without a sound Azriel stepped closer to Rhys so that he too would see as the old man closed his eyes, allowing them a view of his memories.

---

"We can't just leave her here," a tanned, tall man said. His eyes were hazel and his long hair unbound and flowing in the harsh winter wind.

"Talos," a shorter man said, his skin tan as well, but his eyes peculiar. One was green, while the other was brown. Maurice. "There is no way the Capitan would allow her to stay in Camp."

"We can think about that later," the determination in Talos's voice was final, "Right now, she's leaving with us."

"I don't-" Maurice objected again, but was cut short.

"If she doesn't leave, she'll end up being hunted down and killed like her father." Talos's jaw tightened at the thought of Liath getting hurt.

"Fine," Maurice gave in, "but after we get to Camp, she's your responsibility."

The pair of soldiers entered a tent, the only escape from the brutal weather on the border of Autumn and Winter court.

Their league had come here to train in the cold conditions, in order to prepare themselves for any and every option of a battlefield.

"Liath," Talos said gently and a small figure turned her hair into his direction.

Liath. It didn't matter how she'd stolen Talos's heart, it was hers now. In a different world she would be choosing a fitting husband in Autumn Court, but she'd been taken away from the royal life. Her father, a Lord who'd abdicated the throne and disappeared to the border with Winter Court, raised her so that she'd be able to fight if the time of his assassination ever came.

He had been seen as an abomination to the throne, willing to marry a commoner. For love, he'd abandoned the court. And for that he knew he would some day have to pay.

That day did come. Liath was of age already, but nevertheless still staying with her parents, taking care of them. Perhaps by sheer luck she'd been in the attic that early morning. She'd fallen asleep while reading and didn't bother going down to her room. She didn't awake until she'd heard a scream. Her mother's, followed by a plea from her father.

She could hear his last words: she abandoned us for Winter Court a long time ago.

With that her father had saved her. The assassin hadn't come looking to the attic where she'd stayed hidden well after the the killer'd been long gone.

The sun was shining brightly, melting the thin coat of snow by the time Liath crept down from the attic. She held her breath as she opened her parents' bedroom. The smell of blood hit her long before she saw the bodies.

Still in their nightclothes, they were splayed in bed with their throats cut from ear to ear.

Liath screamed. She didn't care that her powers were sneaking out of her control. Her family was gone and whoever had done that would suffer. She'd make them.

Another sob shook her and that was the last push her powers needed to break free.

The fire grew. From her hands to the tree-embroided rug and then to the curtains and from there it was out of control. Not that she cared for the steady flame had been the only thing to keep her from joining her parent in their fate.

She'd barely managed to get out before her home burned to the crisp, taking with it everyone she loved and every memory dear to her.

That big flame had been what the fleet of Illyrian soldiers saw as they'd been flying over. That'd been when Talos saw a girl, still in her light blue nightgown, her ember hair unbound and her bare feet in ash. When he'd first seen his mate.

---

Azriel had to brace himself on the table on his right while he processed Maurice's memory. He'd known Fallon's mother and father. He'd known about Fallon all along.

"There you go," Maurice's look was still distant, caught in his memories, "I loved them both, but they were careless, and Talos didn't care that she was a traitor to her own Court." Maurice kept shaking his head in disapproval of his dead friends' actions.

"And yet you've never exposed their daughter," Rhys said, purposely avoiding using Fallon's name.

"She didn't know about their sins, she shouldn't be punished for them. But now, she has proven herself to be just like her traitorous mother, burning down an Illyrian Camp." Maurice simply said before leaving the tent.

Rhys caught Azriel's eye. How were they going to tell all this to Fallon?

That night Azriel didn't get much sleep - whenever he closed his eyes he saw Fallon, heartbroken to learn her true history that her parents'd kept from her. He kept dwelling on that until a loud yell jolted him awake.

"Now!" someone barked the command, followed by tens of wings rustling and weapons drawing.

Fire On Fire - Azriel's story - acotarWhere stories live. Discover now