#sapphireillyrian

Females in Windhaven and the rest of the camps in Illyria were now to be trained for battle and self defense if they should so choose. The heads of households, lords, or any other males were to have no rights to refuse them under any circumstance. We were nearing an all out war with the Illyrians if the Camp Lords didn't step into line quickly.

The females of Illyria are regarded more as property than as people. Housekeepers, childbearers, and playthings, but little else. It's a part of the reason why I loathe the nature of this place so deeply. From the moment our trio had winnowed into the soulless heart of Windhaven once again, it was as if a tarry black pit had settled within my stomach. The females often avoided meeting my eyes, quickly scurrying away at the sight of my sword sheathed proudly between my shoulderblades, and the assortment of knives wreathing each of my powerful thighs. If they were bred and brought up to remain obedient, quiet, and helpless, then I was the physical embodiment of their opposite. I was wild, outspoken and strong. I looked it, felt it.

My heart strained in my chest any time I spotted a young girl here. The kind of future that awaited a little soul in this frozen hell was often not a joyful or free one, and that's what every babe deserves. To run freely through the cobblestone streets like the children in Velaris, with full bellies and imaginations abrim with wonder and possibility. It's hard to have dreams as a child in a place like this, much less as a female. A fact I knew all too well from my own upbringing.

My attention tuned back in to the painstaking quarrel at hand when Devlon's voice rose thunderously above the howling of the wind outside the Camp Lord's official tent.

"I cannot accept this outright distruption of my entire camp and my men. Not to mention the great inconvenience that it places on the training programs already in place within my command! Females have a purpose and a place here and it has remained as such for good reason!" His weathered face was blotched with red. His nostrils flared, and his fists clenched tightly as his dark eyes burned with disdain. One look at the male's face to my right revealed the barely restrained rage painted across Cassian's features. His hazel eyes flashed a warning in my direction as I rallied the words I had been been holding back.

My head whipped back to Lord Devlon as I met his stare from across the worn wooden desk he was caged behind, my restraint snapping. My blood heated as I let my power emanate through the tent in one pulsing heartbeat. At once the air hung still and heavy. Suspended. In-between. The howling of the wind choked upon a silent breath.

He didn't take his eyes off of me. His face blanched. Good. I had always been untameable, and I never let him forget it. I took a step towards him and braced my bare hands on the chilled surface.

"You can, and you will accept this Lord Devlon. Your High Lord has declared it so. As you have spoken from your own tongue, Windhaven is your camp, and these are your men. Therefore it is your responsibility to keep them in line, and follow your godsdamned orders as your High Lord commands."

My words were dripping with a venom I relished in as I sent yet another wave of dark oppressive power through the tent, through Devlon, as I continued. "Females do indeed have a purpose, and a place, but it sure as fuck is not to live a life at the mercy of the males in this territory. If you are all so fucking affrighted about the potential change to the quality and continuance of the lives that you live should your females find themselves armed and capable, then maybe it's finally time to improve their quality of life around here. Do not for one moment forget who truly rules this region of the Night Court, and do not disrespect his Highness' authority again." My admonishment struck across his features as if he'd been dealt a physical blow.

A tense moment passed with no verbal acknowledgement from Devlon, and I used it to take my final shot. I slunk through the flimsy walls around his mind and snarled a poisonous, "Am I fucking understood?" His eyes widened as he muttered through gritted teeth, "understood."

"Good!" my frostbitten hands thumped down on the desk, startling Devlon as he lurched back in his chair. The word punched through my lips with a feigned cheeriness, and I reeled my simmering power back into my body with nothing more than a thought. The wind resumed its wailing cry. "See you bright and early at the training rings in the morning. Do not keep us waiting." Righting myself with a start, I spun on my feet and marched out of the tent before he had a chance to reply, the two warriors at my heels.

Once we were out in the assault of freezing night air, I made it just out of earshot from Lord Devlon before halting to let my companions reach my side once more. "Fucking hell. I thought he was about to soil himself there for a moment," Cassian remarked, running his gloved hands over his stubbled cheeks as he threw me a grin, "I'm glad you came with. Saved me and Az from another two hours of his ranting. Pretty sure he's more scared of you than he is of Rhys."

I looked over a shoulder to meet Azriel's warm eyes, trying to calm myself in their embrace as he studied my expression intently. His arms were crossed over one another, and a frown adorned his brow as I willed my heart to cease its pounding within the walls of my chest. "I don't care if the bastard is afraid of me or not, I just want this entire mess dealt with. Quickly," I replied with a heaving sigh. "Let's get back to the cabin before I run my blade through the brute's gut just to warm my fucking hands." The shadowsinger's expression lightened at that, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards as Cassian howled a laugh, "and that's why we love you sweetness, your penchant for violence is so endearing."

I swatted a hand across one of his broad shoulders, and turned before I let him see the grin he pulled out of my fury begin to form, then made my way towards the cabin.

The trek back to Rhys's mother's cabin felt miles longer than usual, but the sight of the cozy and modest home took me back to my faeling days. So many cherished memories had been made within its walls. Centuries of family dinners shared together at the table, adolescent wounds mended from many a brawl in the bright little kitchen. Even nights where games were played as younglings on the frayed woven rug beside the fireplace. Stepping through the door was like walking through a portal. To an echo of a life not yet marred by the heavy weight of loss and grief, war and unrest. All of us had this place, this home to thank for the last few years of relative innocence we shared in the terminal stages of our youths.

The air was stale from the long period of disuse, and the frigid temperature inside was a far stretch from the warm abode it had once been. It had often been filled with the chattering of friends and family, with warm simple meals being served at the end of long days. However despite that difference, everything else had remained the same here. The fraying rug still sat near the fireplace, the hand sewn curtains still framed each small window, and the dining table littered with dents and grooves from centuries of use still stood proudly in the corner of the room.

We dumped our bags and blades in various places around the living area as Cassian began working on starting the fire. I rubbed my hands together in an attempt to gain back any warmth or feeling as I made my way over to the kitchen at the house's western end. Heavy but gentle bootsteps sent the floorboards creaking behind me as Azriel followed, and I made quick work of acquiring the teabags inside of a cupboard above the sink. I didn't turn to look up at him. I rifled through the many cupboards lining the walls in my effort to locate the teacups. His tall frame cast a shadow from the faelight flickering softly above us as he reached an arm around my head to open the cupboard door to my right.

"You really should know where these are by now," he chided softly, and the low timbre of his voice sent the hair on the back of my neck bristling. His large hand retreated from the cupboard with three mismatched teacups in his grasp, and set them on the counter with a soft clink. I spun around to face him and tilted my chin upwards to meet his gaze. "Not everyone feels the need to catalog each and every piece of dishware within a home you know," I retorted. He was driven half mad by the way Cassian and I tended to haphazardly discard our dishes wherever there was an empty space at the House.

We'd even turned it into a game of sorts, with Azriel the unknowing participant. The way his wings twitched and his jaw clenched every time a cup or plate was put into the wrong place was nothing short of amusing, and we'd developed the habit of doing so often. The moment each of us would leave the room, everything was removed from the cupboards with haste, and returned to their rightful places as Cassian and I stifled our giggles from down the hall.

"You're just a mess," Azriel replied, a soft smirk resulting in his eyes creasing at the corners. He leaned forward just enough to brush his lips against the shell of my ear as he added, "but fortunately for me, you make quite the beautiful mess." His scent enveloped my senses and I nearly whimpered at the loss of his warmth as he backed away. The skin beneath the sleeves of my leathers pebbled at his tone. This dance we'd been doing as of late was fuddling my mind, and I was unable to tell what it meant, or what, if anything, it was leading to.

500 years spent together, and we had always been friends. We shared a bond forged by centuries of loyalty, fired by trust, and sharpened by war. Now... I wasn't sure what we were.

We had all grown up together, with me being a distant cousin to both Rhys and Mor. The father that had scarcely bothered to look in my direction as a youngling had never noticed when either of them spirited me away to Windhaven for weeks on end. Mor and I had shared a childhood of darkness in the Court of Nightmares, but our time away with those that dwelled in this cabin had been a most welcome reprieve.

Meeting Cassian and Azriel was like a breath of fresh air in those days. They lacked any cruelty when compared to the boys in Hewn City. Most of them adopted vile behaviors from their fathers and brothers at such an early age. Nurture had won the battle against nature, generation after generation.

My beautiful aunt however, had imbued her kindness and fairness into each of us in our youths, and it had served our souls well ever since. Her loss, and the loss of my dear cousin all those years ago still haunted my very being. Ara had been a surrogate mother after the death of my own at the young age of four, and Seren my closest confidant and best friend. The nickname she had given me rang more true to my ears now than the name I was given at my birth. It was that same name that now called to me from across the cabin and jolted me out of the haze induced by Azriel's proximity.

"Raven! Az! Stop the flirting and start the tea already! I'm colder than Kallias' tits over here!" My eyes instantly rolled into the back of my head. Az snorted at my ire before shooting me an amused expression, and made his way back into the living room with Cassian. I caught the sounds of muttered whispers between the two, but as hard as I tried, I couldn't quite make out the words. It took several long moments and deep breaths to collect myself once more, before gathering our tea supplies and joining the males by the now crackling fire.

Water had been added to the kettle hanging on a hook above the flames, and I was doing my very best to avoid making eye contact with Cassian as I arranged our cups on the small table before the sofa. He was the only one of our inner circle to notice the shift in the dynamic between Azriel and me, and though he hadn't confronted me directly about the subject, the teasing was becoming all the more frequent whenever the three of us were left alone. Our constant proximity these days—living in the House of Wind and working together—left little room for secrets among the three of us.

Cass and I had always shared a special bond. Even during the years I spent on the continent, or when the trouble with Mor and the Autumn Court had shaken our inner circle. Even when Rhys's father had been High Lord, and we were all split up during The War, we always reunited as if not a single day had passed.

Nowadays, however, he was pulling away from me at the same time that Azriel had begun to draw closer, and I was starting to wonder if that was no coincidence. We still trained together on the roof of the House whenever we had the time. We worked through our troubles or simply enjoyed the feeling of the sun on our backs and the burn of our muscles as we danced across the roof. They were moments we had always enjoyed, being in that space where time ceased to exist and we tuned so closely into one another that Azriel's occasional presence had often gone unnoticed for hours at a time.

Sometimes he would join us, our three bodies forming a triangle as we sparred and fought. Other times he would take up a seat at the edge of the training area, watching us with a honed and appreciative eye. Now though, those mornings with Cassian had become more infrequent, often halting abruptly the moment Azriel appeared.

Just last week Cassian had caught Az's gaze from over my shoulder, and I saw something flash in his expression that stopped me in my tracks. I almost opened my mouth to question what exactly was going on between them, between us, but for some reason chose to hold my tongue.

We all sat around the living room now, defrosting in the heat of the fire while we sipped from our teacups. Quietly contemplating how we were to approach the fledgling warrior females' lessons in the morning. I spared a glance at the males seated to my left on the worn fabric of the small blue couch. Just one flick of their gazes, umber and hazel bathed in warm firelight sent my stomach tumbling and my chest pulling in tight.