Disclaimer: All but Lyra belong to Sarah J Maas

They were outnumbered, so vastly outnumbered it made Lyra's chest clench painfully. She stared out at the forces, how far and wide they stretched on the field and couldn't help but wonder if the five of them would ever make it to the Cauldron across all of that. Even if she used her power, she didn't know if she had enough to carve a path through to where he held the Cauldron.

"How long do you think we have?" Rhysand asked, looking at Cassian.

The General sighed, his face grave and jaw clenching. She saw his gaze slip to Nesta and Elain for a brief moment and Nesta stared back, waiting. "We have five High Lords, and there's only one of him. You all could shield us for a while. But it might not be in our interest to drain every one of you like that. He'll have shields, too – and the Cauldron. He's been careful not to let us see the full extent of his power. I have no doubt we're about it, though."

"He'll likely have spells." Feyre reminded them, frowning unpleasantly. Lyra did too. If his book had spells strong enough to pull her from another world, she worried what else that thing held.

"Make sure Helion is on alert." Azriel said, standing next to her. "And Thesan."

"You didn't answer my question." Rhysand said.

Cassian looked out again, those hazel eyes taking in that large host and then he looked to theirs. "Let's say it goes badly. Shield's shatter, disarray, he uses the Cauldron… a few hours."

Lyra saw Feyre's face, saw she was thinking the same thing. They would have to get all the way across that field, and then on top of that find where he had shielded it.

"My shadows are hunting for it." Azriel said, seeming to read her face. He frowned as he did and she saw how his wings stretched and then pulled in again, as though showing them he was now fine. But she could see it, feel that he wasn't completely ready after the blood loss. "But the wards are strong, no doubt reinforced by the king after you shredded through his at the camp. You might have to go on foot. Wait until the slaughter starts getting sloppy."

"You'll know when." Cassian assured Amren, nodding to her.

Amren nodded back, still gazing out at that army with her arms crossed.

"On your command," Cassian said, laying his hand on Rhysand's shoulder. "I'll get the Illyrians into the skies. We advance on your signal after that."

Rhysand nodded, those violet eyes still staring and staring at that army.

Cassian's wings spread as he stepped back, but just as he looked like he was going to take off, he looked at Nesta. They both stared at the other, silent and Cassian opened his mouth, but decided against it. Instead, he shot off, growing smaller and smaller as he went toward the Illyrian forces and Nesta watched him go the whole way.

"I can fight on foot." Azriel said and Lyra turned toward him sharply. He steadily ignored her, keeping his eyes on Rhysand.

"No." Rhysand said immediately.

Azriel's face went hard and he looked like he wanted to argue, but thankfully Amren shook her head and he didn't push further. Lyra glared at him, but when he met her gaze, he only stared, anger and pain in his eyes and she knew he only wanted to defend his own.

Lyra watched as their armies formed into neat, straight lines divided only by the color of their armor that separated the courts. Amren was explaining quietly to Nesta that magic would be the first sort of fighting, both sides trying to break through shields and spells to get to the other before the real bloodshed would begin. As she did, Lyra felt the other four High Lord's powers rise over their own forces and then descend on Hybern's like a deadly rain. It broke through some of the shields, killing some and injuring others, though it wasn't as many as Lyra would have liked to have seen.

"I forget how boring this part is." Amren grumbled, which earned her a sharp look from Rhysand. She merely shrugged, her little shoulder rising.

Rhysand was holding back, keeping his behemoth might for last as a way to strike when the shields were down. Azriel rallied his own power, ready to use it as soon as he could.

"I never got you a mating present." Feyre said, coming to stand beside Rhysand. He remained silent, watching and waiting for his moment, but he still looked to Feyre. "I've been thinking and thinking about what to get you. But I'll admit, this mating gift is probably for both of us."

Lyra shuddered when magic blew from Feyre, Helion's gift of spell cleaving shattering through Hybern's shield. And it shattered through one of her own, a glamour that faded away as her magic brushed over it to reveal what looked like a writhing column of smoke, shifting and twisting in on itself. Lyra felt it from her place on the hilltop, that horrible awful thing that felt like fear itself.

"Mother above." Azriel whispered, his wings snapping in tight as he stared at the thing wide eyed. And then another appeared and she felt another sort of power, equally as powerful and just as horrid in its own way.

"You retrieved the Ouroboros." Rhysand breathed, looking down at his mate in wonder.

"I did." Feyre said, a feral smile on her beautiful face.

Lyra heard Feyre speaking again but she couldn't hear it, too distracted by those things on the field. She watched as Hybern shifted, pausing as it assessed the two figures on the field. She could tell they sensed the darkness within them both, the swirling power that made Lyra shiver.

"Fucking hell." Lyra hissed, shivering as she felt the two figures draw in their power, holding it to them as they waited. It was horrible, the breath they drew in. It felt like death and anguish and dread.

And then a third figure appeared, drifting out into the field with her hips swaying and hair blowing out behind her. Even though she had a beautiful face, a slim, lovely body, whatever lurked under that skin was horrid.

"You're not the only one who can offer bargains, you know." Rhysand purred from behind, grinning at mate.

"How?"

"I sent Helion to bargain on my behalf – that was why he was in the Middle that day he found you. To offer to break the containment spell on the Weaver… in exchange for her services today." Rhysand explained, that smile spreading.

"Hybern has no idea about the hell that's about to rain down upon them, do they?" Feyre breathed, and Rhysand's answering grin was wicked.

"To family reunions."

All Lyra could do was stare, eyes wide as those three figures launched at Hybern's army, their combined powers making her queasy. But she blocked it out, watching as the female and male swept across the beginning lines of Hybern, slaughtering and leaving nothing but dead husks behind. The other had some of them screaming, scrambling to get away from that large column of horrid smoke as it swept over them and then crashed down on them.

And then she felt Rhysand's familiar power as it speared out and night kissed power erupted around a massive portion of Hybern's army, right down the middle. When the black retreated, nothing but red mist remained in its place. Just moments after, before Hybern could even realize what had happened, Azriel's power blasted through it, causing an even larger divide. The Illyrians came then, like dark stars shooting from the sky to hit that gap. But something flew up from Hybern's massive army to answer, bat like creatures that looked more beast like than humanoid.

The Illyrians did not faulter though, they merely locked their shields of blue and red into place before sending out arrows to take down the beasts. Hybern sent arrows of their own and Lyra knew they were tipped in that faebane because it broke through the shields, sending some of the Illyrians dropping.

It went on and on, those deadly creatures that Rhys and Feyre had bargained with slaughtering and then the other High Lords sending their soldiers to fight as well. Until there was nothing left to do but have the forces on the ground meet, clashing together. Lyra flinched at the sound of it and she felt Azriel lay a comforting hand on her back.

She hated this, just watching. She didn't think she could hate anything more in the world.

Azriel seemed to sense it, the pain it was causing her because he stepped closer to her and pressed a kiss to her temple.

"It's already getting messy." Amren muttered, those smokey eyes flickering over the fields.

"Not yet." Rhys said, shaking his head. "Much of the army isn't yet engaged past the front lines. We need Hybern's focus elsewhere."

Shouts echoed in the air, different High Lords giving orders for their forces to push in or send attacks back. Those three figures kept pushing, eating their way through Hybern's soldiers.

"This will be over before we can even walk down this hill." Amren hissed, flashing her teeth at him. But Rhysand snarled back.

" Not yet."

Lyra froze as a horn sounded, far to the north.

"Now. You have to go now." Rhysand whispered, looking at Feyre with wide eyes. Lyra's heart quickened, fear sliding down her spine. More… how could Hybern possibly have more -

But it wasn't Hybern. It was three separate armies, though they marched together toward their side, ready to join their forces.

Beron, Tamlin and a small band of humans led by Jurian.

Eris appeared, his hair rippling and armor glinting as he gave them all a sly grin. "We thought you might need some help." He said, laying a metal clad hand on his sword.

The armies were now smashing into Hybern and Lyra and the others stared in shock to see Beron himself on the field. Eris seemed to sense it because he explained, "Tamlin made him. Dragged him out by his neck. It was delightful."

Lyra snorted. She wasn't sure what was more surprising, that Tamlin had actually come through or that Beron listened to him.

"Tamlin wants orders." Eris said, becoming more serious. "Jurian does too."

"And what of your father." Rhysand asked carefully, raising a dark brow.

"We're taking care of a problem." Eris supplied, jerking his head toward his father's army below. As he said the words, Lyra saw his brothers winnowing past the front lines, further and further in and then-

Blazes of fire rose as they lit the caches of Faebane, leaving it nothing but useless ash. It was like a chain reaction, watching them all light one after the other through the field.

Lyra was still watching when she felt Amren tug her arm, signaling her it was time to go. She couldn't stop herself from looking at Azriel as Amren warned the sisters and found him staring back, his jaw clenched and face tight but he nodded to her and as he did, she felt him down the bond, pressing against her and she knew what it meant. She smiled at him, nodding back as Feyre jerked her chin toward where they would follow around the outskirts of the camp and follow that woman's deadly path.

"How does the Weaver know how to find the Cauldron?" Amren asked, eyes flicking of the carnage.

"Because she appears to have an unnaturally good sense of smell." Feyre answered and Amren snorted. They began to gather around Nesta and Elain, forming a loose circle since they were the least trained and Lyra looked at Azriel one more time, sending her own feelings down the bond. Just as it seemed to hit him, Nesta let out a horrible gasp, her body lurching and Amren was jerked down with her when she tried to catch the eldest sister.

Rhys was there beside her, eyes wide before Lyra even could figure out what had happened to her. But she felt it too, not in the same way Nesta did, but she could feel the Cauldrons power begin to stir and churn. The feeling was as awful as it had been the night she had emerged from it or when she felt the Wall come down. It was cold and dark.

"Shields!" Amren cried, shoving out from under Nesta. Lyra reached down, helping her up as Eris winnowed away to warn his own troops. Rhysand sent his power over the field, more and more and more to try to protect all he could. Azriel did too, his teeth gritting as he pushed out that blue shield and she could feel him straining.

"CASSIAN!"

Lyra started as Nesta screamed, her eyes wild and frantic as she pushed herself up. She was staring out toward a large Illyrian force in the sky and Lyra swore she saw her eyes glow briefly as she screamed for the General again.

She pulled herself up, only able to make it a couple of steps before she collapsed and heaved again. But she looked back up at the sky, lips white and body trembling as she screamed, "CASSIAN!"

Lyra saw him break from the unit, still surrounded by that red shield as he raced toward Nesta. And as he did, she felt it coming, that horrible power and it made her shake with fear. Azriel saw her reaction, his face lined with worry and she couldn't do anything more than shudder as she felt it blasting out.

He grabbed her when he felt it too, wrapping himself around her like he did at the High Lords meeting but it didn't stop her from feeling the heat of it, the earth shaking might as it crashed into the Illyrian forces that Cassian had just broken away from.

Azriel's grip on her loosened, both from shock and pain as his shield was shattered. And then he looked out in horror as nothing but ash remained of his fellow Illyrians, raining down below. She could see Cassian in between where he had come from and them, just flapping in place and she knew the pain he must be feeling now. All of those soldiers, his soldiers, gone.

Nesta groaned again, breaking them all from their shock and Rhys and Azriel immediately sent their power out again, trying to shield where they could as the Cauldron rose again. It didn't hit the same space again, instead it went right into Hybern's own forces and that hot power crashed down on the spot where one of Feyre's creatures had been.

And obliterated him completely.

Cassian had reached them and as soon as he landed, he was at Nesta's side, his face lined with so much pain it broke Lyra's heart. But he focused on Nesta, pulling her up as she panted. "It's gone quiet again."

"Get back in line." Rhysand said, jerking his chin back out toward the chaos. "The soldiers need you there."

"What the hell can we do against that?" Cassian snarled, though his grip on Nesta was light.

"I'm going in." Azriel said and Lyra looked toward him sharply, immediately beginning to shake her head.

"No." She said, Rhys echoing her words just seconds after.

"Chain me to a tree, Rhys." He said, his voice soft and he wouldn't look at her, wouldn't meet her pleading stare. "Go ahead. I'll rip it out of the ground and fly with it on my damned back."

"Azriel, no." Lyra snarled and he finally looked at her, his eyes softening as he took her in. He opened his mouth to argue, but another horn blasted from the sea.

Lyra tore her gaze away, fear settling into her stomach as she saw more ships making their way toward the shore. With the ships at their back and his army at their front… they were trapped.

"We might need to run, Rhysand. Before they make landfall." Amren warned, those smokey eyes staring out at the host.

Rhysand paused, looking to his mate and Lyra could feel them communicating frantically. Whatever he was saying had Feyre's face crumpling and her eyes filling with fear. Finally, Rhysand looked away, his face grave. "Azriel, you lead the remaining Illyrians on the northern flank."

Lyra shook her head, beginning to argue and she saw the guilt that the command gave Rhysand. For not only putting Azriel in danger, but for the pain and fear it would cause her.

Azriel nodded quickly to Rhysand, then looked at her and before she could protest again, he grabbed her to him and pressed a frantic, harsh kiss to her lips. She felt the fear and pain in it, for both of them and the little time they had.

"You make it out." He whispered, his voice a hoarse rasp as he pressed his forehead to hers.

"We both will." She growled. His lips lifted just a tiny bit before he pulled back and shot into the sky, flapping madly to get toward the Illyrians. She stared, her chest aching as she watched his figure become smaller and smaller.

"Cassian," Rhysand continued as a cheer erupted from Hybern as they saw their reinforcements and pushed in on the Illyrians. "You take the southern flank."

There were too many. Even with the creatures and their High Lords and the new arrivals, it wasn't enough. Lyra could feel the truth if it settling into her and she was surprised when she felt the fear recede. She looked to her family, these people she loved so much and she knew if she did die today among them… it wouldn't be so bad. She would be happy to die with those she loved.

Even now, knowing she was going to die, she was glad the Book had brought her here, had brought her to her family. To Azriel.

"I'll see you on the other side." Cassian said, looking to each of them before he spread his wings, ready to fly and-

Another horn blasted from the sea and then more, echoing it over and over. Dozens of them. But something about these horns made Rhysand's eyes widen and before Lyra knew what he was doing he had Feyre in his arms and had launched into the sky.

Cassian began to follow, but Nesta jerked his arm, ordering him to take her too. He did so quickly, following after his brother.

As he did, thousands and thousands of winged soldiers shot from the ships. Amren watched them, her eyes lighting before she laughed. "They took their time."

"Who? Lyra demanded, looking at the small women at her side, that smile on her lips.

"Mariam and Drakon."

Lyra followed slowly behind Amren, behind the bloody path that the Weaver had left for them to make their way through. She felt that beautiful creature ahead and her own power churned the closer they drew, seeming to sense the threat of her, despite the things promise to only harm their enemies.

Amren made quick work of shattering through any wards that were in their way. With a swipe of her hand they were gone and the three of them went on unnoticed.

Lyra could hear the whispers and hisses of the Hybern soldiers and commanders they passed, each of them throwing out names of who they wished to destroy or harm or rape on their side. She knew Feyre heard it too, could feel her power writhing in her to kill them. It took everything she had to walk away from one of the men who laughed and bragged about what he would do to Mor once he got a hold of her.

They began to climb a rocky hillside that led to the Cauldron, up and up. Feyre was just beside her, Amren's small frame above them as she climbed up the various rocks easily. The reached toward the top, Lyra about to move to the edge and pull herself up but Feyre grabbed at her, shaking her head. Lyra paused, following where Feyre turned to and stilled, her stomach turning when she saw that horrid woman there. She sniffed delicately in the air, a bloody, awful smile spreading across her radiant face as she looked toward their direction.

She ran her fingers over a crescent moon tattooed against her white, flawless skin and Lyra knew it was the bargain mark that connected her with Rhysand. A taunting, reminder to the High Lady.

Then the Weaver sauntered toward the guards nearby, flashing that bloody smile, before she leapt onto them in a swirl of black hair and white limbs. Amren ushered them forward now that they had a distraction and they all pushed to the top and began running.

Lyra hissed when she felt the Cauldron's swirling power, but Amren grinned, looking over her shoulder and whispering, "Good girl." Behind. This draw of power was behind them, being gathered instead by Nesta this time.

And then there was footsteps, drawing closer and closer and Lyra saw the King of Hybern for the first time.

He was almost plain looking, normal. For some reason that surprised Lyra, that he looked so incredibly ordinary instead of some evil villain she had built up in her head. But she could see that glint in his eye, that anger and madness that had rallied all this to destroy and hurt so many.

She watched as he moved past them, straight toward the Weaver, where she had finished with his guards and paused as he approached, that blood filled smile wide. He looked her over, not even flinching at her appearance as he drew closer. "How beautiful you are." He purred, almost flirtatious and it made Lyra shiver. "How magnificent, ancient one."

"You may bow, king." She whispered, her voice as beautiful as her face and she swept back her mass of black hair. "As it was once done."

The King drew close to her, gazing down at her and a smile spread across his face. He reached up and for a moment Lyra thought he was going to caress her pale, bloodied face but then, so quick, he whipped her head aside and broke her neck with a horrible crack.

And then he pushed her body back, sending it tumbling down toward some snarling beasts down below. They descended on her greedily and Lyra flinched, trying and failing to block out the sound of them ripping at the Weavers body.

Amren gave a sharp gasp, eyes wide as she took in the horror.

The King didn't hear her though, too distracted by that power being pulled by Nesta. He stared for a moment, seeming to take it in before he winnowed away.

"Now." Amren urged, beginning forward. Feyre hesitated and Lyra could see the terror in her eyes, the fear for both her sister and Cassian.

"We have to go." Lyra whispered, pulling at her friend's hand. "They can make it if we get there."

"We make it count." Amren added, her eyes shining with pain and grief.

Feyre nodded, steeling herself and they pushed up the hill to where the Cauldron sat, waiting for them. It was just as Lyra remembered it, just like that little gold figurine at the Hewn City. Tall, made of a dark stone and black water, filled with death and power and life.

Amren pulled the Book to her from that pocket realm and Lyra shivered against the combined awfulness of the two. The Book let out a low hum and she felt a tendril of it drift toward her, running along her like a caress. She tried not to flinch back.

"Put your hand on the Cauldron." Amren ordered, nodding to the both of them. Feyre looked to her, taking a deep breath and they both lay their hand against it at nearly the same time.

Lyra was almost instantly lost in the sweeping power of it. It pushed over her, threatening to consume her, to wash away every part of her. She fought to keep herself above it, to remember herself but it was the hardest thing she ever had to do.

But she fought to remember all of it, every part of her and her past, good and bad. And finally, finally she was able to come back to herself, to those hands that were touching the Cauldron. She panted, shaking as she forced herself to look at Feyre, pale and just as terrified as her and then to Amren.

The small monster looked at them both, those eyes flashing as she shut the Book with a clang and sent it into the grass behind her. Instead she just looked at them, those eyes swirling and said, "I'm sorry I lied to you."

Lyra stared, unable to fully pull up the shock that was running through her as she fought to keep herself in her body, in her own mind. She jerked her body, slamming her knee into the stone of the Cauldron, using the pain to keep herself there, just like she did when she bit her nails into her skin. It helped… just a bit but the Cauldron itself, its coldness began to draw closer to her, curious and alert. It seemed to recognize her as that human girl it had pulled through, but it felt something else, something more.

Hello, sweet Child.

The Cauldron paused, seeming to almost shiver as that voice rang in her mind. It was the same one from the Hewn City and it held that same warmth that had drawn her too it. The Cauldron wrapped around her tighter, probing and Lyra squirmed against it as it became even more suffocating. She pulled at her power, desperately clawing at the armor around it to pull it out, but she couldn't reach it.

It tightened around her and she could feel it's curiosity, it's yearning to see that power that she held. It wanted to dig into her, pull it out and take it for itself. She fought it off, desperately shoving and fighting and jerking away from those strangling tendrils wrapping around her. But it kept coming, pulling her closer and closer.

Then something made it pause and it shuddered as Lyra felt that warmth draw closer to her. The Cauldron froze and Lyra felt that warmth spread around her, making the Cauldron writhe in protest. It leaked away from her, retreating from that warmth and her until Lyra could breathe again. When it finally fell back from her, that warmth brushed against her and before Lyra could even turn to look, it shoved her forward and with a wild gasp, she was back in her body.

As she fully came back to herself, she realized Amren was shouting and cursing at both her and Feyre. The fighting outside had grown louder and Lyra shook as she heard it. Amren seemed to realize she was back, so she whirled on Feyre, who's eyes were vacant next to her, face blank and Amren shook her. "Feyre! Come back, girl!"

And then Feyre was there, her eyes lighting and they flashed wildly. But she was still struggling under the weight of the Cauldron, fighting that power.

" Stupid girl! Fight it!" Amren snarled, shaking her again.

Feyre came back fully then and Lyra felt the Cauldron recede, slipping back into that stone completely. Feyre breathed, the sound coming out a hiss as she glared at Amren.

"What in hell-"

"The king is dead." Feyre said, her voice lined with icy cold. Lyra had never heard that voice from her before. "And you're going to be soon, too."

"I know." Amren said, shrugging as she looked between Lyra and the High Lady. "And I need you both to help me do it."

Lyra shook, her body still not feeling like her own and she fought to take a step back. Amren hissed, shaking her head at her. "Don't break it – the contact. I need you to be… a conduit."

"I don't understand." Lyra rasped, jaw clenching.

"The Suriel, it gave me a message. For me. Only me." Amren whispered, lifting her chin. "The answer in the Book was no spell of control. I lied about that. It was… an unbinding spell. For me."

"What?" Feyre gasped, realization flickering in her blue grey eyes.

No. Amren couldn't…

"I thought I'd need your sisters to help us control the Cauldron, but after the Ouroboros and after our training, I knew you could both do it. Because when you both unbind me with the Cauldron's power, in my real form… I will wipe that army away. Every last one of them."

"Amren-" Feyre started.

"Don't."

Varian was there, pushing toward them, his eyes blazing and blood splattered on his armor. He stared at Amren, those crushing blue eyes pleading.

"Like a hound on a scent." Amren smiled, taking in every inch of him.

"Don't." Varian repeated, but Amren turned away.

"Unleash me." Amren said, looking between the two of them. "Let me end this."

"You said you wouldn't remember us." Lyra said, swallowing thickly as she stared at Amren with wide eyes.

"You won't be you anymore." Feyre pushed, shaking her head. "You'll be gone."

Amren looked between them again, looked at Varian and offered a faint smile. "I watched them for so many eons. Humans, in my world, there were humans, too. And I watched them love, and hate – wage senseless wars and find precious peace. Watched them build lives, build worlds. I was… I was never allowed such things. I had not been designed that way, had not been ordered to do so. So I watched. And that day I came here… it was the first selfish thing I had done. For a long, long while I thought it was punishment for disobeying my Father's orders, for wanting. I thought this world was some hell he'd locked me into for disobedience."

Amren sighed, swallowing thickly.

"But I think… I wonder if my Father knew. If he saw how I watched them love and hate and build and opened that rip in the world not as punishment… but as a gift. For it has been a gift. This time with you both. With all of you. It has been a gift."

"Amren." Varian cried, sinking to his knees before her. "I am begging you-

"Tell the High Lord to leave out a cup for me." She whispered, looking to Feyre, a soft smile on her lips.

"Amren, no-" Lyra whispered, unable to stand it.

"I will." Feyre answered, her voice shaking. She looked to Lyra, tears lining her eyes, but she lifted her chin and she saw the High Lady simmering there. An order. An order for Lyra to obey, to help with this, even if Feyre herself didn't wish too.

"I watched them most – the humans who loved." Amren said, looking to Varian with a smile. "I never understood it, how it happened. Why it happened. I think I might have learned with you, though. Perhaps that was a last gift too."

Varian's face crumpled, twisting with pain. But he stayed where he was.

"When I am free," Amren said as Feyre showed Lyra the words, the actions needed to release her. "Do not run. It will attract my attention."

She came toward Feyre, gripping her arm. "I am glad we met, Feyre."

"Me too, Amren." Feyre smiled, bowing to her. "Me too."

Those swirling eyes turned to Lyra, chin dipping to her. "You are in control, Lyra. Remember that."

And then she swung her tiny body into the Cauldron, sinking below the depths and disappearing.

Feyre reached out, gripping Lyra's hand tightly. "You feel the spell in all of you, every single part, do you understand?"

Lyra nodded, taking a shuddering breath as she pushed down her pain, her grief and prepared herself. Feyre reached out, brushing against her mind and Lyra allowed her in, her power pressing in on her and they began together, speaking the spell both from their mouths and in their minds. But even deeper than that, in their blood and bones and very selves.

She felt Amren pulled under as the spell ended, further and further down until Lyra couldn't feel her anymore. She yanked back, wrapping her arms around herself as she backed away from the Cauldron. Varian caught Feyre when she stumbled, looking to the black waters, waiting.

Slowly something began to spear up toward them, faster and faster, shaking the earth, the Cauldron. And when it drew close enough-

Feyre grabbed her, yanking her with Varian behind the nearest rock as the Cauldron shattered, three pieces falling apart and that black water leaked out. But Lyra didn't have time to worry about that because Amren exploded from the ground.

She was flame, white hot flame and so blinding Lyra had to look away. A mighty cry left her, echoing through Lyra and when she dared to look back, she swore she saw a great figure inside those flames, a crown atop her head and powerful wings at her back.

She lingered there - lingered and looked over them and then their armies.

Amren shot out, becoming a swirling column for flame and began her destruction. Her flames ate at Hybern's army, consuming them as she rushed by. They ran from her, screaming in fear and panic, but even just being brushed by those flames was enough to send them to their deaths. She pressed on, growing closer to their own troops and Rhysand yelled out, a warning for their own people not to run from her.

She continued, sweeping over the full battlefield and left dust of the soldiers behind. Then to the sea, burning the rest of the ships and as she grew smaller and smaller and by the time she reached the last one, she was gone.

And their people cheered.

Lyra couldn't quite believe it, even as their troops began a roar of victory, their happiness and relief spreading throughout the ranks. Varian rose, helping her up with a shaky hand and she saw tears were running down his dark cheeks, washing away lines of blood. She squeezed his hand and when he met her eyes the sadness in them made her chest ache.

"We should go." Feyre said, her face grave and tired despite their victory. From their loss.

Lyra reached out, helping up her friend and she couldn't stop herself from wrapping her in a hug, relief and grief and pain all churning in her. She didn't know who survived, who else they had lost, but she was glad that Feyre remained. The High Lady hugged her back tightly, her heart still hammering before she pulled away.

But when she did, Lyra felt that familiar dark power of the Cauldron. She turned toward it and saw it wasn't the Cauldron itself, but the power inside it, that black liquid that was nothing and everything at the same time. It was leaking from those massive broken pieces and as it did, it seeped into the ground, into the very world itself.

It was wrong. Whatever that stuff was it was not meant to be outside of that stone of the Cauldron.

"Are you hurt, are you-"

Rhysand had found them and he pulled Feyre close, took her face in his hands and looked her over frantically. He still had a slightly wild look in his eye and when Lyra looked closer she saw talons on his fingers and sharp teeth in his mouth. "You freed her." He breathed and Feyre nodded weakly, seeming unable to speak. She saw them communicating, Feyre seeming to relay what had occurred and Rhysand pulled her to him when she was done.

Lyra looked back toward the Cauldron, that break becoming bigger before her. Her stomach turned, fear spreading as she watched it seemed to eat away at the world itself.

"What did we do?" Feyre breathed, her eyes wide. She rushed forward, grabbing at the Book, flipping through those pages in a foreign language that none of them understood. She growled, slamming it shut before she flung it into the blackness.

"Well that's one way to try." Rhysand muttered and Feyre whirled on him.

"I don't know what to do." She whispered.

But Lyra did. She didn't know how or why, but she knew what she had to do.

Creation and Destruction.

She moved toward it, the sound around her fading away until all she heard was the raging silence of her own mind. She drew closer, moving past Feyre and she felt the High Lady grab for her, but Lyra pushed her away. She dropped before the largest shard and as she did, she pulled apart those walls, every last one of them, until that light of her power was free, pulsing and writhing within her.

She almost stumbled from the lifelessness of it, the cold that made her shiver. But she held fast, focusing all of her power, all of herself on those broken pieces. She didn't draw on bits of her power this time, but she immersed herself in all of it, letting both parts flow over her, into her.

When she was intertwined with it, so tight she didn't know where she began and her power ended, she pushed, letting it flow over those broken shards. She pushed with everything she had and to her relief, one of those jagged fissures began to mend and that dark essence from within the Cauldron began to pull back into the part that was sealing itself.

She felt something come toward her from behind, watching her. She thought perhaps Feyre or Rhysand, trying to help, but it lingered there, just watching and waiting.

Lyra pushed again, forcing more and more of her power over the second shard. It too began to seal up again, drawing back the rest of what had leaked from it.

Very good, sweet Child.

She shivered at that voice, but ignored it as she kept going. She was weakening, that light around her fading but she kept going. She had to. For this world, for her family. For her mate.

He would make it.

The third piece rose, her magic smoothing the break in it until there was no crack left and the last of those black waters was sealed inside. She reinforced it, what was left of her little flickering light flowing over it, repairing it once and for all. She shuddered as it did and with a gasp, she stumbled back.

Sound and feeling and her surroundings came back to her in a mad rush. Her hands still glowed, so faint now and Lyra could barely feel any of that pulsing light anymore. She swayed, black eating at the corner of her vision as someone grabbed her face, pulling her to look at them.

It was Feyre, her eyes wild with fear and Lyra saw her shouting, but her voice was muffled. Garbled.

"I did it." She whispered, relief flooding her as she fought against that darkness pulling at her. "I did it."

And then she was gone.

There was nothing here but blackness and that cord, glittering and flickering before her. Lyra felt light, weightless and warm as she stared at it. It pulsed and Lyra felt something on the other end fighting, pushing to get to her.

Something… that warmth from before came to stand behind her, so close the heat enveloped her into a cocoon of comfort.

You did well, sweet Child.

Lyra felt the thing behind her run over her, brushing her hair in what felt almost like a caress. She leaned into it, a sigh leaving her.

I am so very proud.

It stroked her hair and the gesture made Lyra ease. Though Lyra couldn't see it, she felt as that warmth smiled.

You can go home now. A gift for your sacrifice.

Home. She smiled at the thought but then she saw it, images it showed her and realized it didn't mean Velaris, but her apartment from her world. That lonely, sad apartment.

"No." Lyra whispered, her voice seeming to echo in the darkness.

But that warmth kept showing her that place and she saw herself, her life playing out if she went back. Finishing school, becoming a nurse like she had wanted so badly, the people she could help.

But it all was so hollow. So lonely.

"No." She repeated, shaking her head. "No, please."

Going back, you will face hardship. There will be battles ahead.

She didn't care. She would face anything to get back. She had to.

She wanted her family. She wanted her friends. She wanted Azriel.

"Please." She begged, that warmth still stroking her hair, her arms. "I want them. I choose them. Please."

The thing paused, running along her. A gentle caress, one Lyra had yearned for as a child, but never got.

A mother's caress.

Then go, my Lady of Life.

And then that cord pulled, dragging her away to the other end.

Go home, sweet Child.