Without the light
Oh, the darkness comes
Hold through the night
Mmm, the shadows will run
Mmm, fend off the enemy
Sing out the jubilee
With all the fire we can breathe
We're singin' all day
and you can't tame it
High tide, low tide, you know
Night time, mornin' time, and
We're goin' strong
Headed up, down the river
Oh, Lord, I feel the reveling
I feel a change on the rise
What good's a man
Who's lost his soul
Can't take a stand
Mmm, when his flame's gone cold
Mmm, fend off the enemy
Sing out the jubilee
With all the fire we can breathe
Change on the Rise, Avi Kaplan
I floated there in the darkness, cradled in the songs of his soul, in the gentle whispers of the shadows wrapping around me like gauzy blankets. Ever so softly, his voice murmured, the deep rumble like darkness given sound, "Sleep, my mate."
Wanting to answer, but unable, trapped inside my mind, I curled within the confines of his soul, tied to it as I was. I could not remember where I was from, or why I fell from the sky to the person by my side. I tried to remember, but all that came was visions of red, a scarlet shade of blood, and things that I could not recall, fuzzy, escaping me like sand through my fingers. I made a sound of frustration, running my hands through my non-existent, imagined hair, and winced as I felt something sharp pierce my soul, imagination-body. Pulling my hands away, I looked at them. Neatly honed to a point, my nails looked more like claws, glinting faintly in the soft, starry light of his soul. My hands were covered in blood-no, scarlet-and-black dye, tattooing my skin with faint swirls of unidentifiable symbols and images of what reminded me of the phrase "death on wings". At the center of each palm was a stylized image of two wickedly curved blades, edges like waves of fire, the shape, the feel, so intimately familiar. Without warning, blood appeared on my hands, looking like I had dipped them in it. I blinked, trying to clear my vision, if it was actually there. Inching its way up my arms, my legs, drenching me in blood, I was swimming in it. I started screaming, losing control of my body, my mind blinded by the blood and the anger and the fear running through, and my heart stopped.
I heard it stop.
I heard it cease pumping.
I felt my body turn cold, the blood drenching me, filling my mouth with salt and tears and pain.
And I felt a tug on my soul.
"I see blood on my hands too."
Like the mountains' deepest roots.
I looked up.
Cold, infinite night.
He pulled on my soul, and I came to him. Like a moth to a flame.
"It helps if you don't hide in the darkest parts of your soul."
He held a hand out to me. I resisted the tug, hesitating. The darkness was the only place I had left.
"Azriel is waiting for you. It is time to wake up. You have slept long enough."
A female voice joined him, matching his like a huntress tamed her dogs. But no, this huntress tamed wolves and monsters, the feral creatures of the night.
"It was...hard...to find you."
She added. The tug stayed, but so did I. Stubbornly, I resisted the loving, gentle pull. I didn't deserve it.
"Who is Azriel?"
The name flowed off my tongue, smoothly, like shadows slid with the moon. They both hesitated. I waited as they quietly deliberated, then finally asked.
"Where am I?"
A quiet sigh from the male figure, both obscured from my vision.
"In Prythian, in a world our Seer tells us is separate from your own."
My confusion was overridden by an immense sense of relief I didn't know.
"I don't know where I am from."
I sensed hesitation from the both of them.
"We don't know either. But we can explain all of this when you awaken. It was hard to find you, and hard to stay."
She answered, swiftly, as their images began to fade. He added, a faintly amused tone emanating,
"And do wake up soon, Az is worried, and he's not moving."
She swatted at him. He avoided her primly, her voice echoing, as if over a long distance.
"Don't tell her that now! You just saw her mind, she has other things to worry about than Az-"
Her voice faded too much for me to hear. I knew something was different, and somewhere, I knew here, this Prythian, was better. This Azriel, the tug, the bond, was waiting. I followed the tug, and my heart began to beat, slower than before, and the blood dripped off my skin, escaping into shadows that swept it away and returned to my side, supporting me with a warm darkness like his voice when I had heard it.
My body stirred. I forced open my eyes, shuddering as pain splintered through my body. My newly opened eyes were unblurred, seeing gauzy curtains, flowing down from a hoop, like a circlet of twisting, spiked silver, from which they hung. It connected to a high ceiling of what looked like stone, a night sky shimmering with stars painted upon it. Moonlight filtered in, and as I turned my head, I could make out a terrace, and beyond, a frigidly snowy mountain range. It was strangely warm, almost suffocatingly so, despite being so high up I could see the stars and moon beyond, as they set above a peak. I turned my head the other way, seeing a dresser near the foot of my bed, my own form under white, silken sheets, and finally, the man named Azriel. The tug on my soul, the warmth, the missing piece of my soul. "Azriel."
My voice rasped with unuse, cracking with dryness. He stirred, limp shadows on his back rising slightly, his head coming up to look at mine, our eyes meeting. Those intense hazel eyes set against an ethereally elegant, and beautiful, more beautiful than a man should be, face, unreadable, shadowed, hollowed with exhaustion. His hand came up to cup my face, and this time, I could see the horrific scarring I had felt before. "You're awake."
It was more of a question than a statement, his own voice, like darkness given sound, rusty, cracking. I answered, clearing my throat, my voice a little stronger.
"I'm awake."
A quiet sense of relief came from his presence in my mind. I reached up to brush his fingers, and he jerked back, both mind and body. "I-"
I was cut off by the sound of the door opening with a bang. "Azriel."
A petite woman with stormcloud-silver eyes and shoulder length midnight hair glided in, following the form of a taller golden haired warrior princess, eyes of chocolate brown flashing with some nameless emotion. She looked like the female Day counterpart of the man's infinite Night. The other woman-I shuddered. Silver eyes flashed with power, unsettling, and I saw a flash of wings made of fire, swirling, glowing mist trapped behind glass, some otherworldly creature, so much like me. "Mor."
His voice was flat, emotionless. Mor, as he called her, recoiled. "She-she really..."
Her honey-smooth voice trailed off, her eyes showing concern, and then worry, then freezing into ice-cold emotions, set off by the flowing blood-red dress she wore. Citrus and cinnamon, she was. But the girl behind her...I scented the air, my senses stronger than ever. Involuntarily, I gasped, and Mor looked at me sharply. Azriel shifted, ever so slightly, and his hand slid to mine. The woman behind her crossed her arms and laughed. Mor and Azriel both started, and Mor not-so-subtly stepped away from her friend. "This one has sense!"
"You smell like blood?" I asked stupidly, my voice rising higher with every word. She waved her hand. "Don't worry about me."
I looked curiously at her. "What about your former form?"
She looked at me. "You can see that?"
"Should I not?" I asked, my head cocking to one side. Mor cleared her throat, bringing our attention back to her. "I came to introduce myself. And to see if Azriel was awake. My name is Morrigan. Lil Miss Firedrake here is Amren."
Amren shot her a glare that could kill. I shuddered at the sight of it. "Mor, Amren, what are you doing here?"
Azriel growled, voice filled with tightly checked anger. Morrigan shrugged it off. "Checking on you. I'll see you later-ta-ta!"
With that, she swept out of the room, but just as she left, I glimpsed an expression of deep remorse. Amren looked at us, not having followed Morrigan out. She looked at Azriel, then me, and simply said, "Don't do anything idiotic."
We looked at each other as she also swept out of the room, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Azriel, was it?"
I said slowly, as we came out of our reverie. He looked down at our intertwined hands, and the shadows swirling around him came to explore the path of my skin. He nodded, and asked, "And you are?"
Squinting, I attempted to remember. Like a pet, I absentmindedly stroked his hand through the shadowy substance, somehow familiar, not so frightening. "I...I don't know."
"Do you...want to know?" He asked, his voice just as slow, curious, questing. My confusion must have been evident on my face. "We have a Seer, who saw glimpses of you."
A face flashed into my mind, beauty in pure sweetness, eyes glazed in fury, a wicked knife, hilt of obsidian, sheathed in black embossed with silver runes, gripped in a white hand too soft and too clumsy to be used to it. A name appeared in my mind. "Truth-teller."
"What?" His gaze snapped to mine, no longer shy, hidden by the darkness drifting around him. I realized I had spoken aloud. "Truth-teller. Elain Truth-teller."
"Another like the Morrigan." He murmured in reply. Then he realized something, and his face flashed into confusion. "How do you know her name?"
"Whose?" My voice softened, trying not to anger him, a natural response I didn't know. "Our Seer. Her name is Elain."
His voice was patient, yet I could hear the confusion, and slight worry in it. We sat for a moment, until a rumble, not unlike an avalanche, sounded in the room. My own stomach echoed it. Azriel and I looked at eachother. "Hungry?"
He asked, blushing lightly. I nodded. "I'll go get us some food."
Standing, he offered a hand to me. I took it, and throwing back the covers, I stopped. I was clothed in a soft white nightdress, but underneath, glowing bronze skin covered toned, but thin legs. Everything in my mind screamed 'Not mine!'.
Releasing Azriel's hands, I looked at my own, the same bronzed skin covering thin, pretty fingers, tapered forearms leading into barely rounded forearms. Hairless, beautiful nails. Leaping off the bed, uncaring of the wide-eyed Azriel, I ran two steps to the mirror and tore off the nightdress into strips, my strength different, the length of my stride different. I didn't know who I was before, but this was not who I had been, that I knew. Tears, unbidden, came to my eyes, and I traced my hands over my body, making sure it was now mine. Dancer's legs, long and fragile-looking, but strong. Wide hips, a slightly rounded stomach, a matching slightly chubby waistline, but I didn't care. Whoever I used to be, subconsciously, didn't care. My ribs didn't show, but I could feel them as my beautiful hands glided over them. Soft, peaked breasts. Angled shoulders with a clear neckline, chin lifted high, tapered ears. Smooth, bronzy skin with the glow of life, blushing high on my cheekbones, a more rounded face that still had that strong jawline and high forehead, but features softer and pretty instead of masculine and chubby. "I'm beautiful."
I whispered. Then I turned. My back had two long scars, parallel, from the middle of my shoulder blades down to the top of my pelvis area. Azriel cleared his throat, loudly. I turned to look at him, shaken out of my reverie by the scars. He had his back turned, the tips of his pointed ears slightly pink, a hand extended behind him holding a set of clothes. I blushed, and covered myself instinctively. "Sorry."
Azriel nodded, still looking away, while I grabbed the clothes. "Bathroom is through the open doorway. If you...want to take a warm bath, just turn the knobs."
"That...sounds nice." I turned and took a step towards the opened door, only for my legs to falter beneath me. Falling, I didn't even see Azriel move until I found myself in his arms, bare skin against his body. "Oh."
I said, rather surprised, still clutching the clothes against my body. He hefted me in his arms, then looking past me, strode towards the bathroom. I could see the blush starting just past the shadows drifting around him. Reaching out an arm past his shoulder, I traced a finger down the slightly furry membrane of his wing. Azriel shuddered, uttered a growl, and stopped. "Please...don't...do that."
He dropped to a knee, balancing me there for a moment while he caught his breath. "Sensitive?"
I asked. "Extremely."
He gritted out. Then, like a dog shaking his head to free it of water, he shook himself free, stood, and continued striding towards the bathroom. The interior was beautiful, one wall open, with the bath the size of a small pool flowing out the side and into nothingness. He set me down carefully at the edge. "I'll get someone to help you."
And like that, he turned and left, the door slamming shut behind him, not looking at my blushing face, or the fact that I hadn't minded his touch, despite only having met him properly today. Carefully testing, I reached out with my mind towards his, only to find a wall of shadow blocking the trail of glitter that led me to his soul. A soft knock sounded. "Come in."
I called, A tall, slender girl with caramel brown locks entered, wearing a simple robe, an ethereal glow emanating from her pale skin. "My name is Feyre, I'm one of Azriel's friends."
Her voice was like that of a hunting goddess, powerful, yet lovely. I recognized it. "You're the girl in my dreams!"
She considered this for a moment, head tilted to the side. "I suppose you could call them dreams. I would call it mind, but I suppose that doesn't quite fit either."
Taking the clothes from me, Feyre set them aside on a low table, and, lifting me with strength belied by her slender form, she dipped her toe in the water, and immediately, steam burst from the surface of the water. "Tell me if it's too warm for you."
Feyre lowered me into the water, and I sighed, relaxing into the warmth so different from when I had been falling. The door slammed open, and both of us jumped. Standing in the doorway was a naked Morrigan. "I'm going to join you."
She announced, and marched in, throwing a fluffy towel over the clothes, and taking a leaping step in, splashing both Feyre and I. "Mor."
Feyre's tone was reproachful. Morrigan waved a hand at her. "It's alright, it's alright, get in here. There's room enough for Amren too."
"Pfffft!" I laughed, and it echoed off the bath tiles. Both Morrigan and Feyre looked at me and smiled, and I could see some measure of relief in their faces. All of a sudden, my stomach growled. And this time, Morrigan and Feyre laughed. "I'll get Nuala and Cerridwen to bring us some food if you're hungry."
Feyre gasped between giggles. I nodded emphatically, and Morrigan said, "I want some too."
Nodding, Feyre entered into the water, and as it touched her skin, little butterflies of steam fluttered away. I gasped in amazement, reaching out to touch one as it landed on Morrigan's hair. Seeing my interest, Feyre waved her hands, and they turned to little star balls floating in the air. Nuala and Cerridwen soon arrived, introduced themselves, and hurried away, as we continued to splash, play, and eat bites of food in between soap and cleaning. After all was done, Feyre and Morrigan helped me into a silky night robe, and led me back to the bed. The last thing I saw before I closed my eyes was Feyre and her dark mate looking at me, Azriel joining me by my side, worry and sorrow in their gaze.