Her words echoed in the silence.
Ice danced across the small room, flakes crusting the lithe fingers of Feyre until they turned a pale blue. Bone-chilling cold wrapped around Eblis, even Cassian shifting his wings tighter into his back. The blue-gray of Feyre's eyes turned distant, and then a far-away tremble rocked the very rock beneath them. Eblis felt as the power rumbled up to meet her, and something sung through her blood with lightning pulses, her nerves skittering.
She didn’t even have time to question the strange magic as that iciness spooled back into her High Lady with a small roll of her neck, as if relieving the tension there.
"We're going," she said, nodding to Cassian once. He sent Eblis a slightly suspicious look before ruffling his mighty wings and exiting the painters-building. Something like envy washed through her when those membranous black wings stretched in the sun's rays, and with one strong stroke, he was shooting into the sky, sure as any Illyrian-trained soldier.
Feyre lingered, gaze flickering between past and present. “Rhysand...he will be here soon. Stay here.” She offered only a long glance similar to Cassian’s before seeming to pause. The High Lady peered at Eblis again. “You really look like him,” she murmured. “Without the blond hair and gray eyes, I think you would’ve been a spitting image of him.” She whipped into darkness, winnowing, and Eblis didn’t have the chance to explain her altered appearance. Eblis was alone once more, in a foreign building and a foreign life.
She couldn’t help her small exhale as she sent a shifting gaze around the room, pointed ears twitching nervously. The cloak around her shoulders was a lifeline she held onto and pulled around herself, even in the humid heat of Velaris. The gray of her eyes were deep and troubled as she felt nervousness drill into her stomach.
She’d traveled across an ocean and continent to arrive in the City of Starlight, her old life in the enemy continent of Hybern left far behind as she escaped the grasp of its dead ruler. And now she’d made it. And her brother…
She hadn’t seen him in five centuries.
As most fae go, he would probably look the same as always if a little older in the eyes. But her problem was that she couldn’t even remember what he looked like: sure she remembered their matching dark hair and violet eyes—though hers were dyed to hide her identity—but she couldn’t remember the tilt of his lips or the crinkle of his face when smiling. Even seeing Cassian had been a shock to her memories as they swam to the surface and ran around in her head, startling her with how much she missed him. Eblis couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would be like to see her brother after so long as well.
Her skin prickled with magic, the writhing beast beneath the crust of her sensing the curling in her gut. She’d kept them tampered down for too long, and it was ready to be let out. Eblis sent a harried gaze out the window, the sun-beat street nearly empty.
She allowed a small, wriggling shadow out. It curled around the nape of her neck, then played with her dark hairs and rustled among her clothes like a small pet. It’s whispers were a rich song in her ear—one only she could hear. Before she could even react, the shadow itself seemed to stiffen before going on alert, a small thrill of warning running up her spine.
And he was here.
Like a crack of thunder, Rhysand gathered from the darkness and then stepped into the light. He was a beacon of crashing power, the well within burrowing deep. Pure night rippled from him like a morning fog, playing between the rays of sunlight that also filled the room. Until it was snuffed out, gone in a wink. With little more than a thought—perhaps even less—Feyre's gallery was bathed in shadows so deep, she could hardly see. But her magic sang louder in its presence, telling her she was home and she was finally free.
It was the most beautiful music she had ever heard, even as part of her trembled at the show of strength.
“Who are you?” a deep, sensual voice rang in the night. Eblis closed her gray eyes, simply enjoying the way the voice raked across her senses, easing a long-lasting itch she didn't know she had had.
“Eblis,” she whispered into the magic, eyes wide now as they searched for the source of the voice. She felt the ground beneath her feet yet could not see it. Vaguely, as if the ground shook, she crouched to the ground and placed her palms flat on the sun-warmed surface. Strange in a room cloaked with swirling night—just like the one she had stared at not just a few hours prior—where one would expect it to be cold. Her own shadows—dissimilar to his—scattered in the darkness, searching until she could feel the slight presence of the male being hidden yet standing just feet in front of her. However much she trusted Rhys, her brother, she also knew how protective he could be. And right now, Eblis was very much a stranger to him that he wouldn’t hesitate to attack if he was to protect Velaris and its denizens. And the not-knowing left her curling with anxiousness.
Her lips trembled. “Rhysand, please—I have something to show you.” She felt his hesitation in the darkness. Drawing forth a memory from her past, she offered it to the High Lord with her daemati abilities, spearing the thought into the darkness towards his mind.
Rhysand started, hesitating. Within those few moments, Eblis managed to reel him deeper into her mind and the memory she was willing to expose to him. Surprisingly, he let her, as if he could sense that she meant him no ill will, that no harm would come to him.
She thanked the mother for that, offering a small prayer of luck before she fully led him into the memory.
And the screaming began.
Sharp, vicious screaming—her memory unraveled like a nightmare flickering through one's dreams. Though she showed Rhysand the glimpse of her past, she fought against really thinking about it. Later. She would relive it later.
Rhysand jerked away as the last echoes of the image drifted away, the night surrounding them collapsing to the ground like a curtain. At once, she felt the sun warm her skin again, and her shadows disappeared in the glaring light. Eblis took stuttering breaths, mind wobbling at having to go through that terrible night again. The screams and spraying blood and tall, winged shadows echoed through her.
But the High Lord of Night kept staring at her. Staring and staring and staring, as if peering into her trembling soul with those damning violet eyes. The earth quaked suddenly, toppling easels laden with drying paintings and causing a few people to falter out in the sunny streets.
And Rhys was there, cradling her face in his warm, rough hands as tears fell silently down his beautiful features. But stars twinkled within that blue so deep, and his eyes crinkled in a wondrous smile that reminded her of every time he had given her that look years before. And, just like with Cassian, though she felt those memories surface with a blinding fondness, she felt her shoulders stiffen and herself jerk away from him. She was cringing involuntarily, her own hands swiping at her face where he had touched her as if to wipe the feeling away. His face faltered, eyes searching her’s as his hands fell down.
"I'm sorry," she croaked, "I don't...uh...it’s complicated."
He nodded, eyes hardening as his lips pinched together. Rhys stepped back, as if putting a cushion between them. She felt more than saw the barrier he put up around himself, the initial burst of shock fading quickly. She could only duck her head, feeling almost guilty for the sharp change in atmosphere. But he was once more a High Lord, the safety in his mind first and foremost.
"I can't believe it's you, Eblis, after all these years." He looked over her shoulder to one of the distant mountain peaks. “I’m surprised the wards let you through after...so long.”
She bit the inside of her cheek. “I guess I was never actually removed from the wards.”
“Yes,” he said, smiling warmly even as his violet eyes surveyed her with more scrutiny than she would’ve expected. “Amren would definitely hear about this.” Eblis glanced up, remembering the fiery demon who served as his Second in Command of the court. She typically controlled the wards and magic surrounding Velaris, her age going beyond recorded books and her knowledge going just as far. Eblis and the demon had never quite gotten along.
Rhysand, dark clothes immaculate, scanned her yet again. “I know it’s you, but...you have grown very much and are not the same as before,” he commented. “From a brother to a sister, I must confess my suspicion.”
Though she had expected the words, she wilted. “Yes, of course.”
“You came from Hybern, you said?”
“I—” she paused. She hadn’t told him that, but rather had told Feyre. Of course, them being mates, the female had probably relayed their entire conversation to him already. “Yes I am. I’ve been there since the day I...left...Prythian.”
Rhysand’s face barely flickered with emotion. “I suppose you have been traveling and aren’t aware of the news, then.” Eblis frowned up at him, fingers fidgeting with themselves nervously. What news? she thought worriedly. True, she had been traveling for several days after an initial winnow into Prythian from Hybern, the continent across a vast spread of ocean. But what had happened during that time of isolation?
Rhysand strolled out of the building after reading her face, offering a small, backward glance to her when she hesitated.
"Don't you think you should tell the High Lady?" Eblis blurted, glancing at the smudged artworks and spilt paints within the colorful room. She stood from her crouch.
"What is it that I have to tell her?" Rhys drawled calmly.
"That you ruined her class, of course. It doesn't help that you also interrupted the High Lady's work as well. If you'd done that to Father, you would have been flayed alive by now."
"What I have now—how I treat my family—is nothing like how Father once did," he said softly, giving her a sidelong glance. The High Lord waited so he could walk along with her, hands tucked into the pockets of his simple black pants. His hair was like shimmering sable in the sunlight, his dark blue eyes showing the hues of violet that everyone mistook them as. But Eblis looked away as she was caught staring. He smirked.
"You could at least inform the High Lady of the mess she has to clean," she murmured, surveying the Artist's Quarter. It seemed wherever she looked, her eyes were to be blinded with colors—none of the housings were the same hue or shade, and the cobbles themselves were flecked with paint as if the fae oftenly worked outside. Some of the looser cobblestones were even replaced with glass ones, she noticed, each one glittering and glowing in the sunlight. Somewhere, music was trilling and thriving.
Rhys chuckled as he noticed her lagging behind, but silently waited for her to get her fill, not wanting to rush or push her too much. He watched her, the sister that had been dead for five centuries and was now back with more than a few stories to tell. She slowly dragged her gaze away, rushing to get to Rhys's side again.
"You don't have to refer to dear Feyre as High Lady, you know. She's technically your sister."
Eblis considered his words for a moment. "I know, but it seems so informal for me to call her by her name." Eblis lifted her face to the sunlight, basking in the hot rays. She turned to Rhys after a moment. “You never told me what the news was.”
“Ah,” Rhysand said. “Not long after the King of Hybern died, a Queen took the throne.”
Eblis frowned. “Took the throne? But she was always there.”
Rhysand glanced down at her, eyes curious. “I suppose your time in Hybern left you well informed?” he prodded.
“I used to serve under the Queen—and her daughter, the Princess.”
It was Rhysand’s turn to pause and frown. “We’ll have to talk about that later, then,” he said. Eblis nodded, a silence falling between them.
A long moment passed as they quietly strolled down the streets. High fae and low fae alike gave greetings to the High Lord, some even offering their wares to him which he denied with a soft shake of his head. She sighed, eyes appreciating Velaris and it’s splendor after one such instance. "I missed this so much. I missed you, Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel and Morrigan and Amren." An even longer sigh. "It feels so good to be home."
Rhysand smiled at her words; it was the most brotherly expression she had seen yet. A wind blew, and her cloak swirled around her, the short locks of her hair—a style almost exactly mirroring her brothers—stirring until she was blinking it out of her eyes.
"Do you want to go to the Townhouse first, or the Estate?" he asked, nose wrinkling as he finally caught a whiff of her eye-watering scent. She noticed the movement and winced softly.
"It doesn't matter. Wherever is fine."
"No questions about what the mysterious Estate is?"
Eblis blinked. No, she hadn’t even noticed him say it. So she shook her head, while her thoughts ran rampant behind her eyes.
Rhysand asked, almost obviously trying to hide a frown, "Thought for a thought, sister?"
She glanced at him, chewing on the inside of her cheek. She considered Rhys and his words, then the City of Starlight. "I'm thinking," she began after a long moment, "that this place is so much more beautiful than I'd last seen it, and I am nothing but a dark stain that ruins the splendor of this city."
Rhysand softened, the understanding in his gaze forcing Eblis to look away. But he said anyways, "I'm thinking how completely unbelievable it is to have my sister back from the dead, even if she looks and smells like a gutter rat," he chuckled, waiting for her to join his like always. Silence.
He contemplated before adding softly, "You're not a stain upon Velaris, Eblis. You never were and never will be."
Tears lined her eyes, and she furiously blinked them away before he could see what the words did to her, the past lies that burrowed into her soul.
"Can I see everyone?" she asked lightly, trying to cover over the words, the truths she had said.
He wrinkled his nose again. "After you take a shower."
***
Loving the story? Help me publish it as an original work by contacting H.M.Q.uincy05@gmail.com!