The air was thick and the tension heavy in the expanse of Rhys' study. Idrial watched as Cassian and Nesta strode in, the latter hesitant with her steps. All eyes fell on her, assessing and weighing the potential outcome for this afternoon. No one had spoken a word about Nesta's outburst of power in the time Idrial and Azriel had arrived at the river house but Idrial could sense that Feyre and Amren knew, especially given Amren's scrutinising gaze. Nesta approached the table before them, a map of the faerie lands adorning it with a bowl of stones and bones sat beside the map. Cassian remained close at Nesta's side, looking as though it was taking all of his self-control to not reach for her hand and offer a comforting squeeze to reassure her that he was there. Before Cassian could succumb to the temptation, Nesta cleared her throat as she focused on the map, avoiding all of their stares.
"Let's be quick about this."
Azriel asked from between Idrial and Amren, "When you attempted it two days ago, you felt nothing?"
"Nothing," Nesta replied, fingers hovering over the bowl. "My mind circled itself."
"What did you think of?" It was Amren to ask this time.
Nesta remained calm and her expression appeared aloof as she answered, "The Trove. And what happened the last time I scried."
"We won't allow any harm to come to Elain. Rhys warded her this morning, and we have eyes on her at all times," Feyre offered, a hand resting on the slight swell of her belly. It was only very slight, so small a change in fact that you would only notice it if you were looking, and yet the weight of that protective hand had Idrial's heart twisting. But there were more pressing matters at hand than the worry of Feyre's pregnancy.
Nesta reached for the stones and bones, clenching them tightly in her hands as her eyes closed. Idrial watched as she held her fist over the map, complete silence consuming the room. No one moved a muscle or dared to sigh a heavy breath. Even Cassian remained still, only allowing his wing to shift behind Nesta every so slightly to help ground her and remind her of his presence. They could do nothing but watch Nesta's expressionless face, no signs or signals that the scrying was successful for several minutes.
What felt like an icy breeze fluttered at the back of Idrial's neck and she froze, heart beating erratically with worry. Wasn't this the same feeling from two nights ago? When Nesta's power had near engulfed her? Her rising anxiety was quelled, however, by Azriel's fingertips brushing against the back of her hand. She could feel his shadows curling towards her as though they too could sense her worrisome emotions. Idrial glanced up at him but Azriel was still watching Nesta closely. She averted her eyes and focused back on the scrying, a dull pain in her chest knowing that he likely had done it out of instinct to avoid her emotions interfering with Nesta's scrying.
"Where is she wandering to?" Amren uttered. Cassian's hand was on Nesta's and Rhys moved closer to Feyre in a protective manner.
"This didn't happen that time during the war with Hybern," Azriel noted, voice low so as not to cause any distraction. In that moment, Nesta's eyelids fluttered with the sight of something new. Her brows bunched every so slightly and her grips on the stones and bones tightened, her already pale knuckles whitening.
"If you see the Mask, girl, then now would be the time to let go," Amren ordered, her voice level but wary. Nesta didn't make any movement to open her hand, eyes still twitching as she searched.
"Nesta, open your hand," Idrial spoke, her concern rising along with the others in the room. If she didn't pull out of it soon, who knows what might happen.
"She never lowered her shields. Her shields are…" Feyre started, a frantic look in her eye as she watched Nesta's scrying continue on.
"A fortress of solid iron," Rhys murmured, finishing his mate's sentence. Neither he nor Feyre could get past Nesta's mental shields, her mind guarded with something that no faerie magic could break through, as Amren had commented. Nesta, however, showed no sign of the fear that had consumed her two nights prior.
"Give her time," Cassian muttered, hand still wrapped around hers.
"I don't like this. Wherever she is, it feels deadly," Feyre spoke. They all watched on, noting how Nesta's hands tightened in Cassian's.
"Get her out, Rhys. Get her out now."
Rhys answered softly, his voice tinged with guilt for having no way to pull Nesta out of her own mind. "I can't. I—The doors to her mind were open the other night. They're completely shut now."
"She doesn't want it seeing her. Or us," Feyre added. "She's locked it out, but also locked herself in."
Cassian spoke Nesta's name into her ear, pleading, willing her to come back to them. Her breathing shifted, the coldness of her fingers deepening. Cassian's voice was urgent now. When Nesta did open her eyes, that same silver fire that had raged in her bed now glittered in her eyes. There was nothing Fae within the blankness of her stare, still wrapped up in the scrying. Rhys ushered Feyre behind him, his wings adding a shield to protect his mate and child though she pushed past and back to his side. Idrial barely breathed as she watched Nesta turn to look at Cassian, that cold fire still raging.
"Hello, Nes." How Cassian was able to sound so calm as he stroked a thumb over her hand, Idrial didn't know. "Let go of the stones and bones. Let go of them and then you and I can play." Idrial felt herself tense as Cassian leaned in to kiss Nesta, brushing his lips against hers. As he deepened the kiss, Nesta appeared to react, slowly returning to herself. He whispered to let go of the stones and bones again, voice so quiet Idrial almost couldn't hear him even in the otherwise silent room. There was a definitive clunk as Nesta dropped the stones and bones, her arm reaching for Cassian's shoulder as she leaned into his kiss before realising where they were and what exactly had just transpired. When Nesta looked upon the others, eyes lingering on Idrial, the icy fire was now extinguished, leaving behind the usual blue-grey tone of her irises.
"Interesting," Amren commented, arms folded across her chest with an intrigued smirk stretching across her face. Feyre and Rhys seemed less amused, the former with her mouth agape while her mate gripped onto her hand tightly. Idrial could understand why. She too had felt the temperature of the room rise as Cassian had been able to pull Nesta back from the scry. Caution was etched all over the High Lord's face and Idrial could sense Azriel's wariness from beside her too.
Idrial's eyes fell on the spot where Nesta had dropped the stones and bones. They were sitting right on the Bog of Oorid.
"The Mask is in a bog?" Feyre questioned, confusion filtering in the frown on her face.
"Oorid was once a sacred place," Amren began to explain. "Warriors were laid to rest in its night-black waters. But Oorid changed to a place of darkness—don't give me that look, Rhysand, you know what I mean—a long time ago. Filled with such evil that no one will venture there, and only the worst of the faeries are drawn to it. The say the water there flows to Under the Mountain, and the creatures who live in the bog have long used its underground waterways to travel through the Middle, even into the mountains of the surrounding courts."
"Is there a way to be more specific? Do we have a detailed map of the Middle?" Feyre asked, turning to her mate.
Rhys shook his head in response. "It's forbidden to map the Middle beyond vague landmarks. The Mountain, the woods, the bog…All can be seen from land and air. But its secrets, those discovered on foot—those are forbidden."
"By whom?" Idrial listened as Rhysand began to explain of old High Lords and how the Middle was a place teeming with wild, unfiltered magic. To map it out would be to deny respect of the Middle as its own entity, provoking all kinds of ancient mysteries.
"The Middle is where the Weaver of the Wood dwelled," Feyre spoke up again. "If you go to the bog, you'll need to be armed."
"We will. We'll both be armed to the teeth," Cassian declared. Nesta did not respond, though everyone looked toward her. The elephant in the room that was her power went unaddressed, no one—not even Amren—daring to speak up about that silver fire they had all bore witness to.
"We go tomorrow," Nesta spoke, voice unshaking even after all that she had likely seen.
"But, you'll need time to prepare—" Feyre started.
"We go tomorrow. We'll leave after breakfast. Me, Cassian, Azriel," Nesta said, ignoring Feyre's protest as she continued on. "…and Idrial." Nesta looked up and stared into Idrial's eyes with hope glistening in her own.
"No—" Azriel tried to argue.
"Yes, I'll go with you," Idrial spoke at the same time, a wary smile on her face. The thought of going to the Middle was anything but pleasant but she'd face it if that's what Nesta asked of her. Plus it gave her a reason to leave the House and Velaris for something of far higher importance than she was usually able to do.
"It will be dangerous and you haven't kept up with any consistent training," Azriel tried to reason.
"I can defend myself perfectly well enough should the situation call for it. Yesterday I told Nesta that if there is a way for me to help then I will be there, no questions asked. She has requested I go with you and I fully intend to do so. I may not be as strong or as skilled as others in this room but I won't let myself be relegated to the House when I know I'm capable of more than that."
Azriel appeared dumbfounded at her outburst, not entirely realising he had suggested she wasn't strong enough. He knew Idrial was more than capable of protecting herself if need be, but something in him itched to keep her somewhere safe and away from danger. He muttered an apology, shadows dancing at his shoulders as he stepped back ever so slightly away from her, putting further distance between himself and everyone else in the room.
"Well, with that settled, I suggest you all get some rest for tomorrow. You don't have an easy task ahead of you but I have complete faith the four of you will return successful and in one piece," Rhys spoke, lending some warmth to shatter the tension that had shifted between Idrial and Azriel.
Despite her words of determination, Idrial felt anything but courageous as she laid her head down to rest in her bed that night. Since the scrying earlier, her mind had been moving a mile a minute trying to process exactly what she had signed up for. She didn't regret agreeing to go to the Middle, but she couldn't exactly deny that she was nervous—scared even for what they might encounter. If they were lucky, they would find nothing awaiting them and the Mask would be found with little interruption from unsavoury characters. Something told her that they would not be quite as lucky as she hoped. Still, despite any worries or fears she might have had, Idrial didn't let that stop her from practicing her stances in her room before soaking herself in the bath.
The sword she'd had forged last year for the war with Hybern was still in its same place in her home in Velaris so before returning to the House of Wind, she'd asked Azriel to take a detour into the city to retrieve it. While there, he'd been mostly silent as he stood in the doorway of her bedroom, watching her movements.
"You know you didn't have to agree to go just because of something you said to Nesta," Azriel had said, breaking his silence. Idrial had just sighed, pausing her movements to look back at him.
"Correct. I didn't have to. I wanted to." When he didn't show any sign of speaking up again, Idrial continued on. "Look, I appreciate that you're just looking out for me but I can't help but wonder if you just think I'm going to be some kind of burden on you all tomorrow. I know I haven't kept up with training maybe as much as I should have but I can still fight. It's not like I've forgotten everything about using a sword."
"I don't think you're a burden. I never have. It's just that I don't want you to put yourself in unnecessary danger."
"Well considering this is all for the Mask, I would disagree that this danger is unnecessary."
"You know what I mean. The only reason Nesta is coming is because she's the only one of us who can track it down. Otherwise I'm sure Cassian would have her staying at the House."
"I frankly couldn't care less what Cassian would want. Nesta is coming tomorrow because she is strong and a worthy asset. I am also going because I'm also a useful asset. This has nothing to do with what you or Cassian want. Neither she nor I are anyone's property to be ordered around. We are both capable of making decisions for ourselves."
"Wait, I—I didn't mean to suggest that you weren't able." Azriel sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "I'm simply worried for you, that's all." Idrial tried to ignore the rush of her heartbeat at his last comment, eyes widening. She quickly turned away so as to hide the warmth that flooded her cheeks, returning to her previous intentions of finding the sword. Once she retrieved it from the shelf she'd kept it stored, Idrial summoned all of her restraint and willed the heat of her cheeks to extinguish itself as she strode toward Azriel and brushed past him, headed for the front door of her home. Azriel hesitated, lingering in the doorway before she called his name, asking if he was coming or not. He followed after her, debating whether he should say anything more or keep quiet, opting for the latter as he took her up into his arms and soared into the skies once she'd locked the door behind them.
Morning soon came and Idrial had somehow managed to find sleep relatively easily despite the nerves that bunched in her stomach. Azriel hadn't spoken to her since the previous afternoon, not even speaking to her once they arrived back at the House. It didn't seem out of anger, but more out of a desire to give her space. He must have thought he'd offended her deeply. Granted, his choice of words had not been the greatest, but she didn't resent him for it. Idrial knew he'd only spoken from a place of concern. Still, there was no point in being concerned about that as she layered herself up with what protective gear she had, knowing she wouldn't hear the end of it from any of them if she wasn't fully prepared for their venture out to the Middle.
It wasn't until they were all gathered in the foyer of the river house that Idrial felt her breakfast settle in her stomach. She hadn't eaten much, nerves overtaking her appetite but what she had managed to eat felt heavy. She knew that it was just due to anticipation but it didn't make her feel any more at ease.
"I don't like this," Feyre proclaimed as she approached Nesta. "You haven't had enough training."
Cassian chuckled as he replied, "Relax. She has two Illyrian warriors and Idrial guarding her. What could go wrong?"
"Don't answer that," Rhys said, tone flat as though he could sense exactly how Feyre might answer Cassian's rhetorical question. He then turned his focus toward where Nesta stood beside Idrial. "If you don't want to go—"
"You need me. The big is large enough that you won't be able to find the Mask without my…gifts. So I am going. We both are," Nesta retorted, her hand clasped in Idrial's in solidarity. The two had shared a conversation over breakfast about the males' protectiveness over them both, Idrial lamenting of Azriel's comments in her Velaris home. Nesta had simply deemed him another 'Fae bastard' before happily continuing on with her meal. Her words, while few and far between, were enough to soothe Idrial and remind her that she had a friend who understood exactly how she felt and shared the same sentiments to not allow anyone to undermine either of them.
Azriel stepped forward, extending his hands to Cassian, Nesta and Idrial ready to winnow away. Before they could leave, Feyre stepped forward again. "The Middle is like nothing you have experience before, Nesta. Don't let your guard down." She nodded in response before Azriel's shadows swept around them, casting them all far, far away from Velaris.
As the shadows cleared, the heavy air hit each of them. There was no gentle breeze breathing life into the place, just thick, dead air that echoed the muted appearance of the earth. There was no colour, no life here.
"Look at this hellhole," Cassian breathed, eyes cast upon Oorid. Hellhole was the right word to describe this place. Every one of Idrial's senses barked to get the hell out of there as soon as possible. This wasn't a place anyone wanted to linger for long, if at all; the sooner they found that Mask and left, the better. Even Azriel's usually stoic demeanour was broken, discomfort etched into his features.
"Not one insect. Not one bird," he mused, eyes looking around, assessing the scenery. Not that there was all that much to assess. The trees were all greyed and without leaves, branches looking moments away from snapping and casting debris onto the cracked, dry earth. Not even a sound could be heard aside from their own movements.
"Who would bury their dead here?" Nesta asked no one in particular.
"They didn't put them in the earth. These were water burials." Cassian answered.
"I'd rather be burned to ashes and cast to the wind than be left here."
"Noted."
"This is an evil place," Azriel whispered. For the first time perhaps in all the time she had known him, Idrial saw fear shining in Azriel's hazel eyes. She swallowed, feeling that same fear pulsating through her entire body.
"Agreed," she managed to utter. "So let's get that Mask and get away from here before my breakfast decides to make a reappearance."
Taking a few tentative steps, Nesta looked toward Cassian as she asked, "What manner of creature dwells here?" As Cassian began to describe the kinds of vile things that could be found lingering in the Middle, Azriel softly nudged an elbow in Idrial's side.
"How are you doing?" He asked, voice low and quiet but tinged with concern.
"About as good as anyone could be in a place like this. But I'm fine. I was joking about the breakfast comment. Mostly," Idrial replied. "Although I really wouldn't complain if we did find that Mask and leave in time for lunch."
Azriel let out a low chuckle. "Can't say I disagree with you there. Come on, let's get going." The two strode over to Nesta and Cassian, the former of which looked particularly displeased at whatever the latter had told her.
"What if the Mask is in the water?" Nesta queried, gesturing toward the vast outstretch of bog that lay before them.
"Then Az and I will draw straws like the tough warriors we are and the loser goes in." Azriel and Idrial rolled their eyes in unison, laughing at the light-hearted comment as they took to the skies, Cassian and Nesta following closely behind.