Rowan
My chest glowed with pride as I watched my mate challenge these worthless males. I refused to even call them warriors. Any warrior deserving of the title knew that their purpose was to protect those weaker than them, not control and belittle. Add that to the fact that they stubbornly refused to acknowledge the power and potential of females - they did not deserve an ounce of respect. A fact Aelin clearly agreed with as she set them up for failure, flames flickering in her fierce gaze.
Gods, she was glorious.
It was a struggle not to laugh out loud at the dumbfounded face of the war-camp's leader, Devlon, as Aelin laid down her challenge. If there was anyone in all the realms who could undermine my stoic warrior's mask, it was my mate and her flair for the dramatics. Although, honestly after observing these so-called warriors, I had no doubt that she could have defeated a dozen of them without touching a lick of her magic.
The idiots had infuriated her with their thoughtless comments and actions, to their own detriment. Aelin was about to make a statement.
I couldn't wait.
Devlon spluttered, shocked at the wager Aelin had so carelessly laid out. You could see his mind whirring, but he still cast an incredulous look towards Rhysand. The idiotic male unaware that the automatic distrust would only infuriate Aelin more.
"My Lord, surely you prefer we not -" Devlon asked, shocked.
Rhys quickly cut him off, "Aelin speaks with my authority. Any promise, challenge or directive from her should be met with the same obedience as one from my own lips."
I suppose the male wasn't entirely worthless.
Cassian let out a low growl when Devlon continued to stare at Rhysand momentarily, still in shock. Something about this camp and these fae had both him and Azriel on edge more than I had ever seen them. As infuriating as they were, I couldn't stop my own hackles from raising in defense of a member of Aelin's mate circle. I narrowed my eyes at the camp leader, releasing the hold on my power so that the wind whipped through the camp just that much harsher, that much colder, smirking at the barely repressed shivers from the warriors.
Seemingly regaining his senses, Devlon returned his gaze to Aelin, who was still twirling her favorite dagger in the middle of the largest training ring, completely unfazed. He scanned her up and down, no doubt in an attempt to understand how she thought she could win what to them would seem to be an impossible wager.
Finally coming to a decision, he straightened. "Fine," he called to her, "on behalf of all Illyrian warriors, I accept your challenge. Five of my strongest warriors against you, in a fight to either submission or knockout. Only weapons and strength will be used, no magic."
"Oh no, Devlon, you misunderstand." She snickered, "Your warriors are more than welcome to use any magic they possess. That was only a promise that I will not use mine against them." She looked around dismissively before turning back, purring, "I daresay they'll need it." The Illyrians observing startled at her words, a few murmurs surfacing at her unrelenting confidence.
I could feel a smirk pulling at the edges of my lips. My Fireheart, such a menace.
Devlon finally had the intelligence to look nervous at her words, but barreled on, nearly growling, "Fine - agreed. When would you like the wager to take place?"
Aelin blinked innocently at him, "Whenever you're ready, of course."
Cassian couldn't quite hold in his laugh at her words. A quick glance at Rhys saw him smirking, before he said low enough to not be overheard, "I've called Mor back, there is no way she will want to miss this. Five marks she defeats them in under twenty minutes."
Azriel hummed in contemplation behind us. "Ten that she defeats them in fifteen, and breaks at least two bones."
Cassian snorted, "Twenty that it's less than ten minutes."
I wanted to roll my eyes at their antics, but knowing my mate I couldn't help but chime in, "Thirty that she crushes them in under five without even drawing her sword."
I refused to turn towards the rest of her mates when they shot incredulous looks at me, watching as Devlon conversed lowly with his trainers, calling over warriors one by one. Any good leader should know right away who their strongest warriors were - not a good sign for the Illyrians. Finally, they reached a consensus, and five males gathered various swords, spears and daggers from the weapons rack before moving opposite of Aelin in the central ring.
Mor appeared next to us, breathless as she asked, "Did I miss anything?"
Cassian shook his head, smirking, "You're just in time for the show."
We all turned our gazes to the ring, Aelin still standing casually as the males settled into their ready positions. She smiled at them, a cruel, beautiful thing, before calling out to Devlon, "Make sure the girls have a good view, will you?"
The leader's eyes narrowed at her, sharing a look with his chosen warriors. They nodded back at him, exchanging arrogant smirks amongst themselves. They shifted in their positions, weapons drawn and ready. Meanwhile, Aelin still appeared completely at ease, only that same, singular dagger drawn as she twirled it mindlessly. She shot a wink towards us before drawling, "Any time now, Devlon."
Finally, Devlon barked a command to begin, and the fight was on.
The warrior closest to Aelin lunged, sweeping out at her with his large broadsword. She still had not drawn another weapon. The rest of the Illyrians watched with barely suppressed glee, certain this would be the beginning of the end. There was no chance that a small dagger would hold up against a broadsword, even if she managed to deflect the blow.
Their glee faltered when she nonchalantly evaded the swing, the warrior stumbling slightly when his swing did not meet the expected resistance.
His brow furrowed, roaring as he swiped out again - only to meet air as Aelin effortlessly avoided the blow once more. A second warrior took his place as the first faltered, striking out with a pair of curved swords, aiming directly at Aelin's exposed neck. They clashed together as they met in the air - precisely where Aelin had been only seconds before. The warrior's eyes widened in shock, realizing that Aelin hadn't moved her feet an inch, merely bending back in an impressive display of strength and flexibility. Even Cassian whistled at that move, impressed.
Aware now that Aelin was merely playing with them, all five warriors advanced, furious. Each struck out with a series of blows, determined to end it. Aelin was a blur as she easily avoided them - dancing amongst the five warriors who were becoming more incensed by the second. The observing crowd was slowly becoming slack-jawed, as what they assumed would be an easy victory was becoming anything but that.
One minute down.
Fed up with Aelin's evasion, the warriors finally began to use their Siphons, combining their power to create a wall in an attempt to box her in. My eyebrows rose involuntarily at how weak the magic appeared in comparison to what I had seen from Cassian and Azriel. I had to begrudgingly admit to myself that perhaps they weren't completely useless. Not that I would tell them that.
Aelin smirked at their attempt, using the wall against them as she pushed off of it, flipping over all five heads with another glancing push on one of the warrior's shoulders before landing gracefully on the other side of them. The whirled around, starting to breathe heavily as they stared at her in shock. A glance at the watching crowd showed the few girls struggling to observe the fight, so I carelessly cleared away a space for them at the edge of the ring with my magic. They were who Aelin was doing this for, after all.
"Finally. Try to provide at least a bit of a challenge, why don't you?" Growls met Aelin's words. Her opponents exchanged glances before splitting off, circling her.
Two minutes down.
This time, when they attacked, Aelin did not merely avoid their blows. Each weapon strike was met with her dagger. She moved at the speed of light, managing to deflect each sword and spear at the perfect angle to send it awry. Staying firmly in position, each accompanying strike of magic was used to her advantage as she used it to prepare her defense.
She still hadn't gone on the offense.
The five warriors had encircled her completely, and yet they still could not make a dent against her defenses. Eyes alight in fury, they began shifting towards killing blows, aiming for my mate's vulnerable neck, head and stomach.
Cassian let out a low growl next to me, stepping forward in protest. I held my arm in front of his chest, Aelin would not want any interruptions. Softly, I murmured to him, "Just watch."
He stiffened, but thankfully obeyed my command. The Night Court tracked each movement with an increasing intensity as Aelin deflected each attempt by the Illyrians as if it was nothing.
Three minutes down.
A feral grin split across Aelin's face as she moved to the offensive for the first time. Her first strike carved a wicked slice down the face of the most aggressive of her opponents, one of the two males who she had glared at when delivering her wager. He stumbled back in pain and shock, the onlooking crowd gasping.
"First blood, Aelin," Rhys called calmly. His stoic demeanor is almost perfect if you ignore the pride and elation shining in his eyes.
Aelin smirked at him before launching up, and wrapping her perfect thighs around the neck of one of the warriors - I almost growled that he would know what my mate's legs felt like, but managed to control myself. She choked him out with her thighs as she threw two daggers at the male across from her, impaling his wings on the wooden stumps surrounding the ring. He attempted to struggle for a second, only serving to rip his wings apart more, before signaling his submission. The male beneath her grasped at her in desperation before succumbing to unconsciousness. Aelin leaped off him delicately.
It was now two to three.
They sent synchronous strikes of magic towards her, two of which she effortlessly avoided before using the third as leverage to leap into the air. She sent her third dagger flying, the hilt hitting one of the warriors in the side of his head, knocking him out instantly. Simultaneously, she kicked out at another, striking him in the mouth. Blood flew as he collapsed on the ground while Aelin landed beside him, grabbing a hold of his head to crash his skull against the hard ground before he whimpered out in submission.
One against one now.
Aelin had one dagger left. Goldryn was still sheathed at her side.
Slowly she straightened, advancing on the final Illyrian. He appeared to be shaking, almost imperceptibly. With a roar, he rushed her, sword swinging for her neck. The force of the blow had the blade whistling as it cut through the air.
Aelin didn't move.
A split second before it connected with her neck, she shot out a hand, grabbing the hilt and capitalizing on the velocity of the strike to move behind the male, capturing the sword from his grasp. With a fluidity and speed that was nearly incomprehensible, she spun around so that she was behind the male, his own blade pressed against his jugular. A thin stream of blood trickled from where steel met skin.
"Well, do you yield?" Aelin purred, loud enough for the entire audience to hear.
The male, red-faced with shame, struggled for another second before stilling and reluctantly nodding. Aelin released the sword, kicking at his knees so he collapsed before her. As both warrior and sword dropped into the dirt, she looked up, grinning broadly at her dumbfounded audience.
Four minutes.
Four minutes was all it took for Aelin to utterly humiliate five trained Illyrian warriors, a race known for their brutality and proficiency in battle - at least according to her mates from this realm. Fierce, primal pride beat at my chest for my brilliant mate. We were both a far cry from the broken fae we had been at our first encounter.
Aelin turned back to Devlon, whose jaw had dropped open at the scene before him. "It wasn't quite five minutes, but I do believe I've made my point."
At her words, Devlon finally turned from incredulously surveying his defeated warriors. "What trickery was this?" He growled, "There is no way a - a female like you could have defeated even one of my finest warriors." His eyes narrowed at her, "You used some sort of magic against them."
Aelin laughed, a dry mocking sound. Not a good sign. For Devlon.
"Magic? Oh Devlon, you would know had I used my magic." Aelin drawled. She shot a quick glance to me, and I immediately erected a barrier of wind around the girls.
In an instant, the camp was wreathed with towering, white-hot flames. Shouts of alarm rose from the Illyrian warriors. The flames reached even higher than the towering mountain trees, erecting a shield above the camp to cut off any attempts of escape by the winged fae. Raging so fiercely the heat became suffocating, Illyrians sweating in what otherwise would have been the biting cold of the mountains.
"Trust me, Lord Devlon," Aelin spat out, "Your warriors wouldn't have stood a chance against my magic. Not that they were much of a challenge without it."
The flames inched even closer, the warriors jostling each other to stay out of their reach.
Aelin grinned, but it wasn't kind. "The fiercest warriors I know are females. You and your males are just sniveling, chauvinistic cowards. Except now, you are cowards who are bound to your word."
Her eyes gentled as she looked over the gathered girls, all who were awestruck as they gazed up at her in obvious hero worship. Softly, she continued, "How you are born has no impact on your strength, and the impact you can have on the world."
She stilled, sending out a fierce glare to the gathered Illyrians before proclaiming, "And if I ever hear you have gone back on your word and are not offering your females the same opportunities, or that you are disrespecting them in any way, well, nothing will save you then." Her eyes glinted with a feral promise of retribution and Devlon swallowed harshly.
Fuck, I should not be hard right now.
"So, what will it be?" she queried.
"Of course, we will honor our word," Devlon responded, guttural with fear. "The girls will be given every opportunity." The rest of the Illyrians nodded alongside him, frantic to appease my ferocious mate.
"Gods," Mor breathed, "She doesn't even realize what she's just done."
Cassian nodded next to her, eyes shining with unshed tears, "She's changed everything for them. We might actually stand a chance of making progress this century."
Oblivious to the conversation behind her, Aelin finally dropped her flames, ignoring the sighs of relief as she continued to stare down the Illyrian lord. "Swear it. Swear it to your High Lord."
Devlon dropped to his knees, swearing his oath on his life and his magic, but I couldn't tear my eyes from Aelin. In that moment, I understood the complete, inexorable truth.
She was our dark salvation, our brutal hope.
No matter the horrors she had been dealt in her past, or the challenges she would face in her future, she was the realms only savior. She wasn't pure light and goodness as most would expect. She was the sweeping darkness that delivered death and destruction, the night that was necessary before the dawn could rise. And she would rise with it, brighter and more powerful than even the blazing sun, burning anything that stood against her to reforge the world into something new. Something stronger and better.
She was going to remake the worlds, and I would be there with her every step of the way.