36 years after The War
A six year old girl lay on a cot in a tent in an Illyrian war camp. This camp in particular was one she was not familiar with, but Illyrian war camps in general she was. As the granddaughter of the High Lord of the Night Court and an Illyrian female, and the daughter and niece of two half Illyrians she'd spent a third of her life traveling to these war camps to visit her uncle and his brothers in all but blood. She slept fitfully after they'd arrived, her mother had scolded her believing it to be the trip and excitement to see her uncle that had the girl anxious with too much energy but unable to settle. Being only six years old, Eclipse did not have the words to express to her mother that it was bad. There was a badness looming over them, having followed them since yesterday afternoon and grew only stronger when she had learned her uncle Rhys had been called to a different war camp and would not be meeting them that night as planned. She had finally settled some hours ago and settled into a sleep just from pure exhaustion.
She was startled out of the sleep by unfamiliar voices coming from outside the tent. She looked around looking for her mother, or even her grandmother, but neither woman was in the tent. The voices sounded again, muffled but a maniacal chuckle sounded out and the badness swooped back in, in full force chilling the girl deep to her bones in a way she had never experienced before. She stood planning to go in search of her mother.
Stop. The word clanged through her mind as she carefully climbed off the bed, shivering at the cold sinking further into her bones. She recognized the voice, but her young mind was unable to comprehend from where. Years later after reflection on the memories and training she would come to realize it was her own voice, her intuition. She would learn to listen, to trust herself without hesitation, but as a young child untouched still, for now from the horrors of the world, she did not listen. She did not listen as the voice grew louder. Yelling at her to stop, don't look, go, sneak out the back.
She padded towards the opening, the breeze ruffling the night darkened tent. As she drew closer to the door of the tent she tried her hardest to stay quiet. As she peaked through the opening her heart stopped. Her mother and grandmother lay in the dirt umoving. A large pool of dark blood spread out from both of them a sword protruding from her grandmother's stomach. There were three men standing beside them laughing callously. A fourth stood off to the side glancing nervously, the smell of roses drifting towards her on the soft breeze, a smell that would nauseate her for the rest of her life.
"I say we send their heads down the river, keep their wings , maybe hang them in the parlor." One of the males sneered. The eldest of them chuckled and nodded. The third stepped forward removing the blade from her grandmother, a scream ripped out of the woman. Eclipse's heart thumped loudly, bile rising up in her throat. The man kicked her grandmother harshly in the head silencing the scream, then moved to her mother.
Run, don't look. The voice sounded again, but Eclipse couldn't take her eyes from the scene. She watched, unable to look away, as one of the males grabbed her mother's wing. He spread it, pulling it taught, extending it to its full length. The male with the sword turned and in a mighty swing cleaved the wing from her back.
Eclipse let out a scream, startling the men. They spun to her, night erupted from the girl stars and darkness rushed toward the men shoving them away from her mother. A burning light rose up to meet the darkness blinding them from seeing her. She kept screaming darkness, swarming and thickening, threatening to crush the males. She heard the eldest curse.
"Tamlin! Kill the girl!" She saw him move, and then hesitate. The voice sounded again.
Go! It was louder this time, drowning out all other sound. Suffocating her with the need to leave. Get to safety, survive. She knew without a doubt that if they reached her, she would end up like her mother and grandmother. The darkness swelled, the light grew brighter burning hot, one of the males cried out. Tamils broke from his stupor, and the girl listened to the voice. The darkness and light rushed back into her, and all she could think about was getting away, getting safe. Safe. Safe. Safe. The thought clanged around in her head the last of the darkness seeping back under her skin the light disappeared altogether. Tamlin took another hesitant step toward the girl, and she disappeared.
The light and darkness swirled around her. Safe. Safe. Safe. The thought clanged around in her head again. She dropped from that swirling darkness and light above a house, in the mountain lights from the city glittering in the background. The feeling of falling had instinct spreading her wings out, catching on the air around her and she sailed down to the terrace, landing next to the training ring. She ran as soon as she hit the ground fae lights illuminating, a door flung itself open. She rushed through it, the door then slamming itself shut. She threw herself into the couch, breath coming out in gasps. The girl sobbed clinging her knees to her chest, the scene playing out again in her mind as a fire blazed to life and a blanket wound its way around her shoulder. She sobbed uncontrollably. Her breathing escalated, coming faster and faster darkness hedged at the corner of her vision, closing in around her. And then she fainted.
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Azriel jolted awake from his sleep. His shadows swirling around him in a frenzy.
Find her. Find her. Find her.
He was startled unsure what was sending his shadows into this state. He rose from the cot and moved towards the door as he heard a commotion from outside. He stepped from his tent at the same time as Rhysand in the one next to him.
"What's going on?" The shadow singer asked, but Rhysand ignored him. His face was pale, paler than Azriel had ever seen.
Find her. Find her. Find her. Azriel sent what shadows he could, racing past Rhys. Rhy disappeared, reappearing a blink later in the middle of the commotion.
Dead. Dead. Dead. The shadows raced back to him screeching as Rhy let out a roar on the ground, the mountain shaking around him, darkness erupted blanking the area. If there was any doubt that Rhysand was the heir to the night court, that the power would pass to him after his father's death it was dispelled at that moment.
Azriel rushed into the darkness, heart thundering at what he would find. The sound of retching hit him before he spotted Rhysand knelt on the ground staring blankly at a basket, his body shaking uncontrollably, tears lining his eyes. The retching was from Cassian who stood beside their brother. Azriel took a tentative step forward and his heart stopped catching sight of the two female heads in the basket. He realized then what the shadows meant. It was the only thing that kept him from mimicking Cassian and spilling his guts on the ground next to him. Azriel had fought in the war, had tortured countless people for information, but this. The sight in front of him, the heads of the lady of the night court, a woman who had taken him in as her own, and a girl he had considered a sister, severed from their bodies and rested in a basket. This was the worst thing he had ever seen.
"Rhys." Azriel spoke softly. The son of the high lord didn't respond. Didn't take his eyes off the faces of his mother and sister.
"Rhysand." Azriel spoke again, voice harder. "Where is Eclipse?" Rhysand blinked and startled.
"What?"
"Eclipse. Where is she? Did she make the trip with them?" That spurred him into movement.
"The war camp." The males face hardened. He grabbed Cassian who had stopped puking at the words Azriel spoke. Compartmentalizing the horror in front of him and focusing like Azriel on the child. Rhysand reached forward, grabbed Cassian and winnowed away, Azriel melting into shadow and following.
The scene they stepped into was just as bad if not worse than the sight of the heads in the basket. The camp was small, only a few Illyrian males had been stationed there, the camp set up beginning only days ago. No female or children had been brought in. Half the males were dead swords through their hearts. The other half cowered befor the High Lord as he misted an Illyrian male.
"WHO DID THIS?" The High Lord thundered. The three remaining Illyrian males stood before him unflinching. No one spoke. Azriel caught sight of the defiled bodies by a tent set back on the outskirts of the camp. And it was all he could do to not vomit. Their heads were gone. In the basket that had been delivered to the other camp. And their wings. Their wings were gone. He picked up on the scents. He could smell her, his heart clenched. She had been here. Had likely witnessed the horror. But there was no child sized body and her scent was faint, as if she had gone hours ago.
He scattered his shadows one strong command. Find her. There was no metallic tang to her scent. She had left here unharmed. Whether she still remained so was another mystery.
Rhys stared at the bodies of his mother and sister. A tear leaked from his eye before he strode for his father.
"Where is Eclipse?" Rhysand spoke. The name gave the High Lord pause, his head snapping towards his son.
"What?"
"Eclipse. She came with them. Was she here when you arrived?"
"No." The High Lord and his heir stared each other down. Ariel's shadows swarmed back.
Safe. Safe. Safe. They chanted to him curling around his arms traveling up to his face.
Where? Azriel shot back.
House of Wind.
"She's at the House of Wind." Azriel shouted, breaking the staring match between the father and son.
"Cassian. Find Mor. Get Helion." Rhysand ordered and winnowed away. The High Lord and Azriel winnowing after him.
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Eclipse woke to a shadow tickling her face. It swirled around her nuzzling into her hand and then her face.
She started as the door to the terrace opened and her Uncle rushed in followed by her grandfather and Azriel.
Safe. That voice whispered through her mind. Rhysand rushed to her and grabbed her; pulling her into his arms. He squished her to his chest.
"Are you hurt?" He asked as he squeezed her. She couldn't talk as sobs over took her. She was safe. She felt him then. In her mind. Sifting through her memories and discovering what had happened. He went stil and darkness began to creep in. Cold suffocating darkness. The young girl whimpered and then she winnowed again.
Scared, not of her Uncle, but of the memories she had relived as he witness them in her mind. Her own darkness and light enveloped her and Rhys let go in shock.
She shoved away, and rushed to Azriel. He instincts over taking her and taking her to the safest place and the house. She grabbed onto his leg sobs wracking her body.
Azriel froze, unsure of what to do. His shadows however, moved wrapping arounds her.
Safe. Safe. Safe. The shadows whispered to him as they swirled comfortingly around her like a blanket. He could almost taste their relief as strong as his own.
Safe. Safe. Safe. The voice rang out in the girls mind. An ease settling over her as the shadows swirled around her, settling against her warm and heavy.