─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
"I will always be your sword."
─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
BEING IN Rhys's arms again, against his body, was a test of stubbornness. For both of us. To see who'd speak first. Maybe things had been semi-normal earlier in the day, but having more than an hour or two to think about the events of Starfall had instilled a sort of...tension between the two of us. I wasn't sure what kind yet.
Remembering Starfall was both a blessing and a curse.
The way we had danced. All of us together. And I had never seen Rhys so happy, laughing with Azriel, drinking with Mor, bickering with Cassian. I'd danced with each of them, and when the night had shifted toward the dawn and the music became soft and honeyed, I had let Rhys take me in his arms and dance with me, slowly, until the other guests had left, until Mor was asleep on a settee in the dining room, until the gold disk of the sun gilded Velaris.
He'd flown me back to the town house through the pink and purple and gray of the dawn, both of us silent, and had kissed my brow once before walking down the hall to his own room.
And then I had gotten a restless and fitful hour of sleep, leaving me entirely delirious and leading me to make a fool's bargain with Rhys when my mind was not clear as day. Foolish of me.
And now it was...silent. Both of us having had time to mull over the night. Of this change. Of whatever had gotten into my head when I had decided to let down my carefully placed guards.
Rhys and I had been flying over the most beautiful mountains I'd ever seen—snowy and flecked with pines—heading toward the rolling steppes beyond them. My eyes eagerly drinking in every line of the scenery. My ears memorizing every chirp and rustle from the forest. Committing every picture to memory.
My voice was distant as I finally broke the silence, my focus still elsewhere as I spotted a bird flying over head. "You're training female Illyrian warriors?" I questioned.
I had read much about Illyrians at my time with the flame—most of which was about their traditions and prejudices. About their stupid and idiotic misogyny against women. It made my blood boil simply thinking about it.
Though I had grown up in the Flame, I had never experienced that level of sexism. Yes, I had had to work harder because I was a woman—thus the burden of being born without a cock to parade around—but it had never once held me back from becoming the best. I had worked and suffered and cried, but as did those around me. All of us.
It didn't truly matter in the Flame whether you were a man or woman; male or female. Most of us died anyway, it would be stupid to lose recruits over something so trivial as to what lies between your legs.
But the Illyrians did not hold that same value. I pitied the women who longed for more than the life they had been given.
"Trying to." Rhys gazed across the brutal landscape, "I banned wing-clipping a long, long time ago, but...at the more zealous camps, deep within the mountains, they do it. And when Amarantha took over, even the milder camps started doing it again. To keep women safe, they claimed. For the past hundred years, Cassian has been trying to build an aerial fighting unit amongst the females, trying to prove that they have a place on the battlefield. So far, he's managed to train a few dedicated warriors, but the males make life so miserable that many of them left. And for the girls in training..." a hiss of breath. "It's a long road. But Devlon is one of the few who even lets the girls train without a tantrum."
"And in your world, disobeying orders is 'without a tantrum?'"
"Some camps issued decrees that if a female was caught training, she was to be deemed unmarriageable. I can't fight against things like that, not without slaughtering the leaders of each camp and personally raising each and every one of their offspring."
I tilted my head slightly. "And yet your mother loved them—and you three wear their tattoos?" I asked. There was no judgment in my voice, just curiosity.
"I got the tattoos in part for my mother, in part to honor my brothers, who fought everyday of their lives for the right to wear them."
"Why do you let Devlon talk to Cassian that way?" I questioned. Again, mere curiosity.
"Because I know when to pick my fights with Devlon, and I know Cassian would be pissed if I stepped in to crush Devlon's mind like a grape when I know he can handle it himself."
I snorted with a tilt of my shoulder, "Then you exercise more restraint than I ever could."
Rhys chuckled a little. "Don't be so sure," he muttered, "I thought about doing it just now. But most camp Lord's would never have given us a shot at the Blood Rite. Devlon let a half-breed and two bastards take it—and did not deny us our victory."
Blood Rite. Where had I heard that before?
"What's the Blood Rite?" I inquired.
"So many questions today."
I pinched his shoulder hard enough that he hissed. "It's clear which of us is the smart one. Only those without pea sized minds have the depth to ask questions." I spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, inspecting my nails as I held the hand that was not clinging to Rhys out in front of me.
"Cruel." he practically purred.
"Always."
He chuckled again, the sound a whisper against my ear. "It's when you go unarmed into the mountains, magic banned, no siphons, wings bound, with no supplies or clothes beyond what you have on you. You, and every other Illyrian male who wants to move from novice to true warrior. A few hundred head into the mountains at the start of the week—not all come out at the end."
"Do you kill each other?"
"Most try to. For food and clothes, for vengeance, for glory between feuding clans."
"Sounds like fun." I chirped, "Can I try?"
His brows raised, eyes slightly wide as he gave me a disbelieving look simply because he knew the statement was serious. It truly did sound like fun. I needed a good challenge, Cassian trying to best me and failing over and over again was getting quite tedious.
I arched a brow at the look, "What? I've done worse."
"I doubt you'd be able to survive in the mountains after being accustomed to the mortal lands for so long."
I gave him a look that said 'do you doubt my skills' "Nonsense, I once spent weeks alone in a forest, forced to fend for myself without food or shelter. I did just fine."
"And what exactly elicited that particular situation?" Rhys answered in turn.
I shrugged in his grasp. "It was a part of my training."
Rhys nodded his head in a gesture that said he understood. After all, he was likely put through much of the same in his training. The High Lord continued on with the explanation I had interrupted. "Devlon let us take the Rite—but also made sure Cassian, Azriel, and I were dumped in different locations."
"How did that end up?"
"We found each other. Killed our way across the mountains to get to each other. Turns out, a good number of Illyrian males wanted to prove they were stronger, smarter than us. Turns out they were wrong."
Now I really wanted to try.
Rhys set us down in clearing, the pine trees towering so high they seemed to caress the underside of the heavy, gray clouds passing on the swift winds.
"So, you're not using magic—but I have to?" I said backing away and taking in where we had landed.
"Our enemy is keyed in on my powers. You, however, remain invisible." he waved a hand. "Let's see what all your practicing has amounted to."
I knew why they tracked Rhys's power instead of mine. A cruel game meant only for me. Stijn's idea no doubt. I should have killed my mentor when I had the chance. And I really should have done a lot worse after Astrid and Flynn.
I didn't speak for a long moment. Contemplating how to form my words. Rhysand had knowledge of Hybern. More than me. But I possessed the scope of what the Flame was capable of. And if we wanted to survive...he had to know. Gory details and all.
I didn't look at him, drawing on my magic and shaping it into what I wanted. I spoke as my magic reached out through the clearing, "You know, I remember the day I arrived at the academy as though it was yesterday. The way the rain pummeled against the carriage window, I distinctly recall the smell of salt and roses." magic veined at my feet, drawing fire across the clearing and spiraling throughout. Simultaneously melting the last of the snow that resided here.
If I was forced to train, it didn't mean I had to sit in misery the whole time while my clothes soaked through with snow.
I continued watching as the white powder began to disappear, "When I arrived, a male greeted me. White hair like mine, pure black eyes, High Fae. The first faerie I'd ever seen." I snorted. "I was terrified. My pretty pink dress getting wet in the rain. He asked me all these questions: name, age, some other things. But the only thing that really stuck was the last thing he said before he took me inside the academy."
"And what was that?" Rhys asked, his eyes leaving the melting snow and traveling back to me.
"'You'll learn to kill, little Archeron.'" I answered in a far off voice. "Stijn was a very...poetic...male in the most brutal of ways. He became my overseer for the two years of my basic training, and my employer in the years after." I pulled my power back into me, closing my eyes as I did. Feeling as the magic whorled around my very existence. "Stijn was the best warrior alive—at least in the Flame's ranks. He was also the cruelest."
I sighed as my eyes opened again. My magic refilled and was born anew. I looked over the now snow-less and muddy clearing thanks to the water but made no move to fix it yet. Instead, I looked to Rhysand. "His ways were...there's really no way to describe it. But it was effective nonetheless."
It was odd opening up. It went against everything I had been taught; Everything I had used to value. But it was necessary if Rhys was to understand.
I huffed a breath as I continued, "I received my first punishment two weeks after I'd arrived—me being me, decided to sneak out and steal food from the kitchen, mainly dessert of course. I received five lashes." my amusement faded at the memory that bloomed in my mind. My screams louder than ever, being unaccustomed to such pain.
"You were a child."
"I was a soldier."
Desperate to escape his piercing gaze, I looked back to the clearing. Again my magic pooled within the forest, reaching out it's hand as I drew upon inch after inch. And this time I allowed it to connect. To form bonds with the plants, to create ties of life. It was draining, but I did not falter. It wasn't draining in a way that I felt like my magic was near its end, but more of I hadn't used this much power before and had never truly felt the magic leave my body in this way. It was worth it as I watched the water begin to sink into the ground. As the grass began to grow color, and flower began to sprout.
I pushed on, "I made friends in my two years there, each of us bonding over our shared hatred of the Flame. I made three that I became very close with." I gulped, my throat drying at their memory. "One was killed after he went rogue and attempted to take on an enemy by himself." I looked over to Rhys again, steeling myself as I tried to force the words from my mouth. "I'm sure you wondered why they threatened us with that severed head before the Court of Nightmares. My friend's head had been shipped to my doorstep in a gold flecked box."
Rhysand's eyes darkened, understanding taking over. Maybe realizing why I had fled so quickly after seeing it.
He never looked away. Never cowered away from my stare nor did he seem anything but understanding. The High Lord's voice was low, "And the two others?"
I paused. Inhale. Exhale. Breath. You can do this.
"Just before Feyre and I went Under the Mountain, Tamlin had sent us back to the Mortal World. I knew that the second I stepped foot in my village I would be summoned. And I was." A pause and another breath. "I knew better than to fight when I met with Stijn. Knew better than to lie when he asked me precisely where I had been and why it had taken my so long to come back.
"What Stijn lacked in magic he made up for by being an unbelievable warrior. But the little power he possessed helped him see. See lies, though glamors, anything that needed to be concealed. And so when he asked, I answered. And I told him that it had taken me two months to return because I had not made a single move to escape; because despite myself I had enjoyed it in Prythian." I swallowed the tears that threatened to form in my eyes. "And I paid the price."
Rhys's gaze was solemn—bordering on murderous, if anything.
"They restrained me when they brought them out, holding me back as my two friends were held with knives to their throats." I closed my eyes, again pushing away the burning of tears. "I remember thinking that it was happening too fast, that I had to act, and yet the most I could do was thrash in the hold of those who restrained me. And then I just remember a...blank feeling as I watched as their throats were slit in front of me. As I watched the light fade from their eyes and their chests cease falling."
I looked up at Rhys, my eyes hardening as I said. "And then I killed every last person in that room."
His gaze pierced into me. His voice was no more than the darkness of the night as he said, "Good."
"Stijn got away though. I don't know whether it was a blessing or curse because he likely would have killed me. But I think it would have been...honorable to die that way."
"Preferably, I should hope you don't die at all."
"Careful, Rhys. I might start to think you care." I said as I arched a brow at him
He returned the gesture, stuffing his hands into his black pockets. "Is that supposed to be a secret?"
I rolled my eyes at his antics. Such a flirt.
But I wasn't just rattling off memories of my childhood all willy-nilly for no reason at all. "I'm trying to make a point here."
Rhysand waved a hand, "Continue."
I scoffed, "Thank you, Your Highness." but I listened. "The Flame has access to portals. Other worlds, other realities. An amount of power no one should have and yet they go unchecked. Answering to only themselves and giving nothing. I was sent to many of those realities." Another breath. Another thought. "They would sell us off. Giving us to the highest bidder for whatever the reason, be it for problem, entertainment, or pleasure. Assassinations, wars, battles, coups, I have seen it all in a million different ways and a million different scenarios."
"They're smart and manipulative and they do nothing without calculation. And yet they waited to act for so long? Waited to make a move to assassinate me when there have been so many other opportunities?" I stopped, my eyes closing. "The Flame surfacing to kill me, as well as Hybern coming out of hiding..."
"You think they've allied together." Rhys realized with no small amount of shock.
A shake of my head..."I don't know. The Flame has never really had allies but...it's a possibility." I knew he saw the fear in my eyes. "And with the Flame's power, numbers, and armies combined with the King of Hybern and the Cauldron..." I shuddered, "they'd be unbeatable."
Wariness seeped into Rhys's gaze. "Why are you telling me this?"
I didn't answer for a long moment. The silence stretching taught between us as the tears I had pushed away now formed in my eyes.
"I am already dead." I finally shattered the looming quiet. "No matter how this plays out, my life is forfeit either way." I breathed, "I am telling you this because I want you—I want them to have a chance at survival. The Night Court, Prythian, our friends. You all have a chance to survive; to build and live, so long as you take it."
Shock rippled in his eyes and he visibly recoiled at the thought. The sacrifice. Rhys began shaking his head, absent thought running across his gaze.
"I won't let them get to you." he swore, nothing but truth in his eyes and yet I saw the uncertainty he tried to hide. The fear that he could not stop the inevitable.
And that was okay. I did not want, nor did I need him to spare me. I had known my fate for a very long time and I had come to terms with it. I didn't like it. But whether I liked it or not didn't matter. So long as he and these people survived it didn't matter.
I let a sad smile form on my features as a tear spilled. I wiped it away as quick as it had come. "Do not make promises you can't keep, Rhysand." I had said the same words Under the Mountain. In that moment of vulnerability as I let my walls fall away on a rooftop with him. I had asked the High Lord of the Night Court about what it had felt to be free.
He took a step toward me. "I will keep this one, Danika."
He would not relent on this. Would not let it go until I told him I accepted his words. "Okay." I whispered, "I believe you."
I lied.
A/N: Will I start a chapter countdown for suspense? Yes. Yes, I think I will.
Chapter countdown: 10
Also! As some of you know I'm writing an original book that I hope to get published at some point, but I'm thinking of adding the Flame into that? Whatcha think?