There are those who'll tell you you're wrong

They will try to silence your song

But right here is where you belong

So don't search anymore

You are the dawn of a new day that's waking

A masterpiece still in the making

The blue in an ocean of grey

You are right where you need to be

Poised to inspire and to succeed

You'll look back and you'll realize one day

Wanderer's Lullaby, Adriana Figueroa

"Azriel, wake up! You're going to sleep right through Starfall!" The man named Azriel groaned in his sleep, pulling the dark covers over his head. "Go away, Mor."

"Starfall is already spectacular tonight, you missed the first star of the night." The bright-eyed Morrigan quipped. The blankets stopped shifting, and Mor took the opportunity to yank them off.

A sleepy-eyed Az sat up. "I'm coming."

True to his word, a sleep-mussed Azriel in his less-than-rumpled finery joined his friends, the closest to a family he had, on the balcony of the House of Wind about a half-hour later. "Sorry to drag you out of bed, shadow singer, but you had to see this Starfall."

Cassian said, standing by Nesta, or as close as he possibly could get. As soon as the man really saw what tonight's Starfall had, his eyes widened. Even Amren, as much as this night unsettled her, had made a rare appearance. Feyre, glowing the same pale shade as the falling stars, sighed from the other side of his High Lord. "I will never get enough of this night."

"Do you truly like this so much you're glowing? Maybe I should bottle star-spirit and give it to you." His High Lord, Rhysand, said to his High Lady. She laughed in return, "But Rhys, you make me glow too."

"Oh yes, I haven't forgotten that, Feyre darling." Rhysand purred. Cassian, looking interested, asked Nesta, "Is it a sisterly thing for them to glow when they cum, or is it just Feyre? Because if it's sisterly, I'm sure I can make you burn, firedrake."

"I think it is the wrong type of glow you want from me," Nesta snapped and went to stand by Elain, pointedly ignoring the fact Elain was hand-in-hand with Lucien. Amren laughed, "You are living on borrowed time, Cassian."

Cassian chuckled in reply, and Nesta huffed angrily. Azriel spoke, the first couple of words since emerging. "I wonder what made this night in particular so beautiful."

Elain gasped, and collapsing into Lucien's arms, she tried to lift herself, limbs moving as if in freefall, then, just as suddenly, she froze, and seemed herself again. "What is it, Elain?"

Nesta asked, shoving Lucien out of the way to cradle her sister. Feyre drifted away from Rhysand and settled next to the pair. Elain lifted a pale, shaking hand, and pointed to the sky. "Watch out!"

She took a breath and fainted. Azriel looked to the sky as the others tended to her, eyes wide as he watched the sky for what had frightened her so. Whether it was an attack or a meteor, he did not know, but their enemies had lain dormant since their great defeat, and there had been no warning signs of something on a crash course to destroy their home. And he saw it. Running towards the edge, he leaped into the sky, winnowing from mid-air to space, avoiding falling stars and splattering star-spirit alike still flying, winnowing, flapping, winnowing, rising, winnowing again and again, as the distance he winnowed got shorter and shorter, to collide with the thing he had seen, catching a body in his arms. He flared his wings, gliding gently down, a blackened, glowing body smothered in star-spirit and fire, still burning. Cassian flew to greet him. "Elain's all right, but it frightened her, whatever she saw. She didn't say. She won't say."

"Are they...whatever they are...alive?" Azriel, still flying, shifted the body to check for a pulse. He nodded grimly when he found one and flew noticeably faster. Cassian grimaced and held his arms out. "I'll winnow them down. Go rest. You're too tired to winnow again."

The burned body shook, coughing, and reaching as much as they could, gripped Azriel's hand. Azriel turned to shadow, and blinking, found himself standing amidst his friends. Cassian was right behind him. "Fuck, Az, you don't have the energy to do that! You're gonna burn yourself out!"

"I didn't." He replied, surprised. Everyone froze, and then, there was a sudden riot of action. Az stood in the middle, still as midwinter earth, as the girl was bundled out if his arms, as his burns were treated and healed. A touch at his shoulder startled him out his statue-like state. "Azriel, what's wrong?"

Feyre asked softly. He turned to look at her, arms finally falling to rest at his sides. "I'm…"

He started. All this time, and here he was, about to lie to his High Lady. He didn't know what was wrong. Her touch...the touch of that girl, her hand on his arm, the rush of white-hot and the sudden avalanche of burning emotions. Unknown to him, the shadows wrapped around him deepened. He finally told Feyre, "I don't know. She's...the emotions...they're..."

"They're unexplainable. Aren't they, Az?" Rhysand cut in smoothly. Azriel nodded, sinking further into his shadows, face expressionless, but his eyes showing everything. "Feyre darling, go back to tend to her. I have a feeling your skills will be necessary here. I will talk to Azriel."

Rhysand strode over in time to catch Az as he stumbled. Feyre helped him down to the couch, then left in the direction of the girl. "Did Feyre ever tell you about what I told her? That I stumbled back and winnowed away before she could say anything? That is what I did when the bond snapped into place between us."

"She never told me. I...I've never felt something like that before." Azriel replied slowly. Rhys smiled. "Yes, you have. Not quite to that extent, but something similar. The Morrigan."

"Though it wasn't quite as overwhelming, was it?" Rhysand added quietly when Az looked sharply at him, his shadows fading ever so slightly. Steps echoed across the room, and both looked up. Amren stood at the entrance to the hallway, hands on her hips, still somehow terrifying despite not having her former aura. "Azriel, she's asking for you."

The shadowsinger's eyes widened. "She...she is? She's awake?"

"Of course she's awake if she's asking for you!" Amren snapped. Az flinched, having realized the stupidity of the question, but stood up and walked towards her, the shadows fading and deepening with every alternating step. "Elain's fine, Nesta's hovering over her, but Elain finally said what scared her."

Amren said matter-of-factly. Rhysand shifted, Azriel pausing at the doorway. Amren continued grimly. "The girl is made High Fae. She's not only that however, but she also comes from another world. Not mine, not Bryaxis's, nor the Bonecarver. Elain glimpsed what she could possibly do, and what she did to fall here. She was-"

"I don't care," Azriel growled suddenly, unnervingly un-Az-like, his eyes flashing, shadows slinking away from him. "I don't care if she was a murderer of children or if she was the King's friend or the Cauldron itself, but what room is she in?"

Amren fell silent. Rhys looked at Azriel and laughed, surprised, eyes crinkling with both mirth and surprise, as if the laugh had not been expected, even by himself. "Even your shadows are scared of you right now."

Amren explained when Azriel tilted his head, looking somewhat peeved, and his shadows swept back, like a tidal wave to swirl around him, his own little whirlpool of darkness. Amren joined Rhysand's mirth quietly, hand sliding up to cover her small mouth. Rhysand gestured towards the hall, now purely amused, still chuckling. "I had them put her in Feyre's old room."

"Oh!" Amren said just before Azriel stomped off. He did not turn to look at her, but paused in the hallway, hand on the wall. "You may be surprised, for she looks much different now."

Turning, he stared hard at her, hand tightening into a fist, then swept out of the room, shadows snaking after him.