Hello Sunshines! I'm new to the fan-fiction writing area. Please be kind when posting comments. If there is anything that you would like for this story to have please suggest it.
I'm writing this story because when I read the books Azriel became my favorite character and i wanted to learn more about him and his story. So I'm making him one. Thank you so much for reading.
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Illyrian is a race of people with large bat like wings. They are a warrior race and can have massive power. Being born weak was something that they didn't know. Once a child was born they will train to be warriors until the day they die. They can have a mate, or soulmate, but is was very rare and many married for power. Life was even worse for the half breeds.
Hidden in the shadows glowing eyes stood out. It was as if the Illyrian child was the shadow and was trying to hide from something darker then what he was. Even at the age of seven his powers were strong and his wings were large for his age. His hazel eyes shone through the shadows that encased his body like it was another coat of skin.
Heavy footsteps slamming on to old stone stairs, laughing from the drunk guards and moaning from the other prisoners. That's is all the life this small child who thrived in the shadows has known. His step mother would keep him locked up in fear of him trying to take his father over.
Occasionally, his father would let him eat dinner with his step-mother and step-brother but never let him see his mother more than once a week. The boys mother called him Azriel, his father called him a bastard, his step-mother called him a demon, and his brothers called him a toy.
One day when Azriel was eight his brothers came to visit him while it was one of those rare times his father would let him out of his cage.. They had visited before and when they did Azriel almost always had a new scar.
"That's fathers bastard" a taunting voice announced. Azriel looked up to see both of his brothers. To which he didn't even bother learning their names because he knew deep down that he wouldn't be stuck in this cage his whole life. Azriel was use to the abuse his family showed him and kept his head down because he knew that acknowledging them the punishment would be much worse.
"I wonder how this will play out." one of the boys laughs. Then pours an oil like substance on Azriel's hands while the other tosses a lit match unto the oil.
The screams that came out from that small child caught the attention of one the warriors in the Illyrian lord's war camp. The healers did everything they could to try and save Azriel's hands; the scars on his hands would remain there until the day he would lose them.