After the first couple of years, I lost track of how much time passed. Or perhaps it was just because I didn't give a shit anymore.
Dron wasn't making idle threats. I did beg for mercy from the Mother and on my bad days, I begged for death from the Cauldron.
He taught me everything I would need to survive; to wield a sword and shield, and to fight any sized opponent with or without weapons. My body ached every day, following the hours he would have me practice my footwork and stances before I was allowed to touch a blade. In the skies I would have to hover for hours with a heavy shield and wooden sword, forcing my muscles to strengthen and keep my balance under the weight.
The day I felt my power surge within me for the first time, it was overwhelming. Like a violent storm that raged uncontrollably within. Because I did not know how to hone it, I would spend hours meditating to calm it until the waves of power lapped gently at the shore of my mind.
Being deep in the Illyian Stepps, there were only a handful of small villages nearby. On occasion, Dron would let me come with him to gather food and supplies. I stopped worrying anyone would recognize me because no one ever glanced twice at me.
"Here, you're going to need this." Dron tossed a small box at me. Opening it, inside was a silver rope necklace with an ebony pendant at the center "It's a siphon."
I've seen siphons on Cassian and Azriel "What does it do again?"
"They help filter and concentrate power, for most Illyrians it is given to those with large amounts of power to give them advantage in battle. The user focuses their power into the siphon to manipulate and create weapons, shields, or armor. Your meditating," he says the word like it's foreign on his tongue "Does you no good if you cannot use your power so for now on, you are going to wear this and learn to focus your power. Traditionally, an Illyrian would wear it on gauntlets or in their armor but as a female, this is better suited."
The necklace was heavy but cool against my skin, almost immediately I could feel the siphon pulsing as my power rushed into the jewel. I worried it would burst similarly to how Rhys told me his would when they gave him one. To my evident relief it never did, instead it made me feel lighter as if the stress of being overwhelmed by my power vanished.
It took a while, but I focused on how it felt to feel my power in the siphon and tried to do as Dron instructed to shape a blade. My first few efforts were pathetic; I was able to get the shape of a dagger down, but it was paper-thin. On a separate occasion I managed to form a shield only for it to dissolve into ash after taking one hit from Dron's sword.
But soon gauging how much power was needed to keep their shape and sharpness became as simple as breathing.
I was sharpening one of my favorite daggers when Dron landed a few feet away. "There is nothing more I can teach you." His words made me raise my gaze. "As you know, female Illyrian warriors are nonexistent."
I smirk as I drag my blade over the whetstone again "Yup, you used to tell me I was lucky my father didn't clip my wings. Not that he ever would've, he saved my mother from losing hers."
He glares at my response; I'm used to the permanent frown on his face. I think the only time I caught a smile from him was when I finally knocked him on his ass while fighting with our daggers. "Aside from being able to hide your wings," he gestures to my back, bare beneath my dark green tunic, "Can you hide anything else?"
Glamouring was the art of shrouding a body part or a whole object from view, hiding it from not only sight, but touch and smell. I would watch Rhys hide his wings, but at the time I didn't understand how he did it. That was until a year ago when I woke up screaming because my wings were gone. It was safe to say that Dron was not happy with me that morning.
He watched closely as I closed my eyes and delved into my power, it greeted me like the sun rising over the horizon. The siphon pulsed against my collarbone as I willed the filtered power to change the shape of my ears, curling the pointed tips.
"If you leave these mountains and try to take residence in any of the other courts, it will get back to your father. Or even worse, the High Lord of Spring will go hunting for your head again. So, leave Prythian, find sanctuary in the mortal lands and live out your days."
Shame and humiliation were the first emotions to rise up within me but then the truth behind his words hit and I knew he was right.
I packed up the clothes and weapons I had acquired over the years. In typical Dron fashion, he stayed quiet as I thanked him for everything, he had done for me before I took to the sky, heading south for the Wall.