The years since the war with the humans have been nothing but peaceful. Of course, there had been squabbles between the courts and their high families, but nothing ever amounted to the war that had passed. The war that had taken so much from all of us. The fae in Prythian have long since renounced their human slaves, abiding by the treaty, and we have been separated from them by the wall ever since. Staying on our side of the wall has remained relatively easy. I have been spending most of my time in Velaris, the city that I had done so much to protect. I had thought that my life would have returned back to normal after the war, though I had no such luck. Even with spending all of my time with the members of my Inner Circle, planning on how we could uphold our image to the other courts as the Court of Nightmares, as we shrouded our true natures from the world as we always had, I felt as though something wasn't right.
At first, I thought it was an impending threat, just my mind and soul trying to heal from the horrors of the war. The things that I had seen as a prisoner of Amarantha had made me count my blessings and consider myself lucky for all that I had waiting for me after the war, for Velaris, for my Inner Circle, for the entirety of the Night Court in general. After some time, however, I realized that it wasn't the war, it wasn't the wounds that had bothered me so, the nightmares that I still had, it was her. My light during the war. My mysterious maiden. If I was lucky, the Cauldron would grace me with a dream of her. I still haven't seen her face, I still do not know who exactly she is to me, but if the Cauldron deems it appropriate to be sending me brief images of her apparent difficult life, as the war had taken as much (if not more) from the humans as it had from the fae, who am I to complain?
I could hardly call them dreams in all actuality, when they were just about the only thing that made me feel awake, made me feel alive. Being back with Cassian, Azriel, Amren, and Mor was what I'd dreamed of during the war, though something was missing. Something that painted delicate flowers on the legs of a table and watched them slowly fade away. Not a something, but a someone; a girl who painted the night stars on her dresser drawer based on an image that I had somehow pushed through the apparent bond that we had. I did that sometimes, sent her things through that invisible bond. It could be anything: a view of my city from above, the night sky, bright as could be, even a bit of music that I remember hearing walking through the streets of Velaris. I never got much of anything back, except a surge of warmth, a kind of glow that I knew was an unwilling response to my images. I'd always been able to play with minds, but this was different. I had no desire to read her thoughts or climb inside her head, I only wanted to feel that lovely, addicting warmth. To bathe myself in it.
They've all told me it's useless to go in search of her. I can tell through our bond that she isn't fae, she's simply a human. Mor swears she'll probably try to kill me, her exact words being "Rhys, that's just what they do." Cassian swore to me that human women aren't as good looking as the fae women, and to trust him because apparently he had experience with both. Amren and Azriel had both agreed that some dream, some hallucination, wasn't worth all the fuss. "After all", they claimed, "what if she wasn't even real?" But I couldn't give up because thanks to the bond that we shared I just knew that she had to be out there waiting for me, even if she didn't realize it yet. It's out of pure curiosity, I told them, that I had to discover who this young maiden was. There was no way around my wonder with her. I'd probably be back within a day, losing interest as soon as I heard her speak, or, at least, that's what I told them. I was fairly certain a bond like this wasn't for nothing. It had to mean something. She had to mean something. And I was going to find out who she was and what exactly this bond between the two of us meant if it was the last thing I did.
I was just about to leave for the mortal realm, preparing myself mentally for whatever I may face, when I got the feeling that I was being watched. Looking up, I saw none other than Mor.
"You know, Rhys, curiosity can kill the cat." I wasn't sure when she had entered the vast dining room, but looking at her, sitting at the other end of the large, empty table, something looking like concern was etched onto her features. Worry, I realized after a moment. She was worried about me.
"I'm the same as an animal now? That's cruel, cousin, even for you," I drawled, eyes dancing with mischief to help her relax.
But her worry wasn't going anywhere. "You've been different, more compulsive since⦠since you were her prisoner." A wave of darkness entered my mind, creeping slowly at first, attempting to turn me back into who I was during the war, but I fought back against it. Prisoner to Amarantha, her little whore during the war, kept so cruelly from fighting for my own cause, for the cause of my family. I shook my head, attempting to expel the dark memories. "We just want to make sure this isn't some kind of rash decision, one that could hurt you."
"We?" I growled, eyes narrowing. "Did you just draw the short stick, Mor? Are the others waiting outside to see how you fared?" I asked, feeling a spark of hurt in my chest. "My business is my business, Mor, and I just have to know her." I pleaded, hoping that of all of them, she would understand.
Mor stayed remarkably still, considering it was the High Lord of the Night Court glowering at her. She didn't so much as flinch. "If this is something you have to do, Rhys, then so be it. We just want to make sure you come back in one piece."
"Oh, please," I purred, a smirk crawling onto my lips, "They're only little humans. How much harm could they do to someone like me?" And with that, I stood, wearing the clothes that I thought would best fit in in the human realms, which included a pair of dark pants and an easy, knitted sweater.
Mor didn't look pleased, but she, I could tell, was at least sympathetic. She understood that I needed to get out, needed to be free of everything. Amarantha had taken a considerable toll on me, one I hadn't fully healed from yet. "I'll send word of how I'm faring," I told Mor, placing a firm hand on her shoulder. "Don't kill anyone of importance while I'm gone."
