Today was the day. Fallon jumped out of bed, ready for the day trip.
Cassian and Azriel had left two days ago and would meet up with Fallon today at Windhaven, which gave her a few hours to herself before they'd arrive.
She gobbled down her breakfast, earning a side glance from Mor, but she didn't care. Today was the day she'd finally see Phoenix again. She flew south as soon as she was dressed in her Illyrian leather.
It didn't take long before she was soaring over the mountain peaks of the Illyrian mountains, nearing her Camp.
Fallon tried to let go of the endless worries forming in her brain but she couldn't help wondering if things had changed since she'd left. Would they even notice her arrival? Maybe it'd be better if they didn't.
The Camp slowly started to form and Fallon was hit with a mix of homesickness and dread. Hoping she'd managed to slip in unnoticed, which was highly unlikely considering the way the Camp was protected, she landed near her former tent, praying Phoenix would be around somewhere. But before she could even look for him, trouble crossed her path.
"Well, well, well," Mhark drawled, "who do we have here."
Mhark, a peer, but also the one who'd always told on the other boys if they'd done something wrong at practice and the trainer hadn't noticed. He still looked the same as he had as a young boy, with his hair buzzed and his lip always busted.
His tone and the predatory look in his eyes made Fallon's blood freeze. She only nodded and tried to walk past him.
But he caught her arm just as the wind blew over the reef. She watched Mhark's eyes widen and then take on the completely opposite look - disgust. In a mere second she'd gone from being one of his fellow warrior to his enemy. Although, she wasn't entirely sure she'd ever been his equal in any way, soldier or not.
Fallon realised her mistake a second too late. Her ears. Fallon cursed at herself. How could she have forgotten? She'd let herself live in comfort and safety of Velaris that her defences'd been lowered. And now her mistake could cost her her life.
Fallon's heart began beating agains her chest so hard it hurt as Mhark's grip tightened and his siphons gleamed as he dragged to the centre of the Camp.
"Commander," Mhark's tone was laced with cunning and hatred.
Fallon had lived with them for all those years, fighting against control of the Fae. Their Camp had been attacked quite a few times by Fae who'd wanted to use them. And Fallon'd fought against them every single time.
And now they would realise she was part Fae. She was part what they despised. And she couldn't even form a word, she couldn't shake Mhark's bone-crushing grip.
The man Mhark had called Commander turned to face them.
Fallon's eyes widened. It was the Second in Command of her former Commander. Why had Mhark called him that? What'd happened in the weeks she'd been gone? She could barely control the panic threatening to drown her. Since when did the mountain range become airless?
"Came to show off or have you already been thrown out?" the Second smirked at Fallon as a larger crowd started to gather.
She tried to form words as her throat was closed up, but she didn't even have to try because Mhark's elbow struck her ribs, taking her already breathless breath away.
"There's more," Mhark said viciously and the Illyrians came closer. In her blurred vision Fallon could see Phoenix in the crowd. His eyes were wide in surprise and his mouth slightly agape. He was staring at her, and even though she saw his legs move, it was as if he were glued to the spot. Dread spread all over her body. Would Phoenix not even try to help her?
"For decades we have been fighting off the Fae," Mhark started, looking at his fellow warriors. "And in all that time not one has managed to control us!"
Fallon swallowed, she could only imagine the reaction when Mhark showed them her ears. If only she could whisper into her bracelet. It was risky with her ribs hurting and head spinning from the punch, but she had no other choice.
She lifted her left arm, the bracelet shining on her wrist. Everyone was too focused on Mhark to pay her attention. Her wrist was already at her neck, only a little more.
But Mhark turned abruptly and gripped her arm and looked at her as if to say not a chance.
"We were so focused on the enemy from the outside," he continued, "that we didn't see what had been hiding right under our noses."
Loud murmurs rose from the crowd and Mhark gripped Fallon's dark hair, but she wouldn't go down without a fight, even if her head was spinning and she had no idea how to get out of this mess. Willing her strength, she shoved him away with her side, wincing as he ripped off stands of her hair, before she kicked him directly in his stomach.
Before she could land another kick, hands were restraining her, forcing her down onto her knees. She pushed and kicked but the grip on her held like iron.
Mhark stood up and Fallon looked pleadingly at Phoenix, who still stood on the edge, his face frozen. She could feel her heart crack, see all the memories they'd made together flash before her eyes, his laugh ringing in her ears.
Held in place, she couldn't stop Mhark this time as he tucked her hair away from her ears. The crowd went silent for a moment before the shouting and cursing began.
Fallon was struck on the head from behind, making her unable to fight back as they dragged her to the stone wall and chained her onto it.
The men she'd trained with, flown with, drank with, now looked at her as if she were the monster, the enemy.
Fallon threw one last shot in the dark, "Phoenix," her voice broke when she saw the disgust on his face. A tear escaping her eye, she faced the Second whose eyes were gleaming with malice.
"Spread her wings," the Second commanded. Fallon's heart sunk to the ground. No, no, no, this couldn't be real. She stopped breathing. She'd rather die right now than have her wings ruined.
The wings were an Illyrian's life, without them she'd be nothing.
"She is not one of us," the Second yelled, "she is not worthy of wings."
A deafening scream rose in her throat as they hammered the ends of her wings to the stone wall behind her. She had to keep fighting, she wouldn't let them mutilate her wings. But with every move more blood gushed from her beautiful, ruined wings.
She could see a tall figure break from the crowd and rush forward, yelling, "What are you doing?" Phoenix's angry voice made Fallon tear her gaze from the blood pooling under her.
"What she deserves," the Second didn't even spare him a look as Phoenix lurched forward to free Fallon's wings.
But he was stopped after a step and two warriors held him back.
Fallon's head was swirling in pain, but the fact that Phoenix had fought for her put back together a small part of her shattered heart. At least she'd go out knowing he was her true friend.
She didn't know how far away Cassian and Azriel were. They could arrive in a matter of minutes, or hours. And frankly she was afraid she didn't have that much left.
"You are despicable," the Second spat at Fallon, "for your betrayal of the honour of Illyrians, you will receive the proper punishment."
A blade glistened in his arms as he stepped closer. The blade caressed her left wing as she trembled in anticipation. Would he gut her? Stab her in the heart? Slice her throat?
But what he did was far worse. She should have expected a slow death from these brutal warriors.
The Second dug his blade into her wing and dragged it, slicing a thin cut into her wing. The agony and pain of having her wings cut made her vision blurry. And the scream that came out of her could have woken the dead.
But the Second only smiled at her and said, "There won't be anything left of your wings once we're done, Fae."
Fallon couldn't piece together what he'd meant - the pain was too excruciating. So much so that she didn't even notice as Mhark came closer, a blade in his hand. She didn't notice until another wave of pain shuddered her body as Mhark cut her wing open again.
From then on the pain was the only thing grounding her to this world, because this felt worse than death. Her wings would be cut so badly that she'd never be able to fly again. She barely heard Phoenix's screams while she focused all her energy into her knees not bucking.
They came, warrior after warrior, their eyes full of hatred. Fallon barely dared to breathe since every breath she took sent her body into a spasm of pain. She had closed her eyes a while ago, not daring to look at her wings.
---
Azriel and Cassian were flying from Batden, having finished inspection and were heading to the third Camp on the list, Windhaven.
By the time they'd arrive, Fallon should be done with her catching up and they would head home together after the report from the Second in Command.
Even from above they could see the crowd in the centre of the Camp. Were they waiting for them already?
Azriel caught Cassian's eye and they nodded at each other, pleased they would be saved the dreadful task of trying to round them up.
But as they flew closer they could feel the tension in the air. They could smell spilled blood.
The closer they got, the better they could see that there was an Illyrian tied to a stone wall.
"Why do they have to deal with their business the day we come?" Cassian complained just as Azriel froze mid-air.
This couldn't be. Azriel's hands began shaking.
Cassian stopped next to him and was about to open his mouth when he saw it too.
The crowd beneath them was gathered at the stone wall, observing the Illyrian tied to the wall. But that wasn't any Illyrian.
Azriel's eyes flared with rage while his blood froze over.
The wings of the Illyrian tied to the wall were in scraps. And the Illyrian was Fallon. Even from a distance Azriel could see her Fae ears exposed and her body motionless.
Cassian snarled next to him before they shot to the ground. They landed with such force that the crowd was pushed back from the wind their wings created.
"What is going on here?" Azriel roared. Even Cassian's eyes widened as his friend yelled.
"This one is a traitor," the Second merely said, his tone bored, picking at his nails with a blade.
Azriel looked at Fallon and his heart broke. Her wings were ruined, her cheeks were stained with tears and she was barely breathing.
If they wouldn't release her right now he was going to rip this Camp to shreds.
"Release her," Azriel gritted his teeth.
Fallon's friend, Phoenix was now standing before her and was trying to lift her limp head.
She didn't seem conscious, but Azriel saw her lips move although barely sound came out. But Phoenix nodded as if he'd understood her and he reached for her arm. And Azriel's decades of spying didn't fail him even now.
I want you to remember me by something.
Azriel observed the gentle touch with which Phoenix'd taken Fallon bracelet off.
Azriel's chest tightened, she thought she'd die. There was no other reason she'd take off the bracelet her mother had given her.
They couldn't wait another second. Azriel only glanced at Cassian and they were moving forward to get to her.
But suddenly a wall of Illyrian warriors appeared before them at the command of the Second.
Cassian roared, but they didn't listen.
Phoenix was now looking at Azriel and Cassian with tears in his eyes. She was gone.
No, Azriel's siphons glowed and the Illyrians in his way flew away.
A bright light tore Azriel's attention from the Illyrians he'd been fighting. Everything seemed to stop for a moment as everyone looked at the source of the illumination.
Fallon was glowing. A blue flame engulfed her like a shield. Flames were dancing in her hair, but none burned her.
Azriel stood in front of Fallon and watched, not bothering to hide the surprise on his face. For the first time in centuries he didn't bother with concealing it.
The blue flames spread from her body to her wings. All the tears in her wings were slowly being patched up, but Fallon's body was still limp and unmoving.
Another wave of bright light hit the gaping eyes and Fallon finally raised her head.
---
Azriel and Cassian stood in front of her, their siphons shining and their faces laced with deathly violence. She only hoped it wasn't directed at her. She felt warm, like life'd returned into her body.
On her right, Phoenix was staring at her open-mouthed, her bracelet glistening in his hand.
She was terrified to look at her wings, but when she did they were complete. No blood, no cuts.
Azriel kneeled before her, his eyes bright with more than just surprise. The way he looked at her made her heart clench.
"How?" Azriel breathed as the daggers keeping her wings in place burned to ash, freeing her.
But Fallon couldn't answer the beautiful man before her. She didn't know what was happening.
She spotted Cassian, amazement coating his expression, but there was also rage. Not towards Fallon though, no, his eyes were remembering every face that'd disobeyed him.
Suddenly a warrior flew up after having seen the threat in Cassian's eyes.
But before he could take the skies, a dome of blue flames spread above the Camp. Fallon's eyes gleamed and her expression was fixed on the Second. The Camp was trapped here, under her mercy.