Intangible - An ACOTAR story

Three: Flight or Fight

"Higher! Higher!" Nyx shrieked with glee as Az swooped over the city toward their training spot. He obliged, flapping his wings furiously and sending them soaring higher over the city. It was only on these mornings with Nyx where he could truly be himself. He could let his shadows fly with him like a second skin, knowing the child would not fear them. They were all he had ever known. Azriel could laugh and smile and share jokes with the boy, freeing himself from the masks of the spymaster and the feared assassin. Here, he was simply... Az.

They landed in the clearing, Nyx taking a moment to straighten his tiny flying leathers. So much like Rhys already.

"Alright kiddo. Have you been doing the strengthening exercises I gave you?"

"Yep. I did them every-" the boy broke off, scrunching his face, "well, almost every morning." Az grinned.

"Good. Show me."

Nyx concentrated, flaring his wings as wide as they would go before tucking them in tight. He then lifted them up, so the tiny talons were over his head, then returned them to their original position. Az got him to repeat the moves a few times before he nodded his approval. The boy's control was incredible for one so young.

"Can I fly now?" Nyx asked eagerly.

"You most certainly can."

Azriel lifted the boy up to a tall rock. It stood about two feet taller than Az and was perfect for a beginner. Nyx perched atop it, waiting as Azriel took a few long strides back. The distance was short, and Nyx was only gliding, but Az knew he had to take it slow after the long break.

A grin spread across his nephew's face as he braced his feet. Nyx ran the three steps to the edge of the rock, lifting his arms smoothly over his head and spreading his wings wide. The boy kept the glide almost perfectly controlled, catching Azriel's outstretched arm to break his momentum, just as they had done hundreds of times before. Nyx dropped to the ground and Az turned to him, crouching down, and raising his hand for a high-five.

"That, kiddo, was awesome!"

Nyx just giggled, slapping his palm.

"Now do it again," Az said, his smile turning wicked.

They repeated the glide over and over for the next hour, Azriel stepping further back each time, sometimes running just out of the boy's reach to keep him focussed. Nyx fell once, accidentally relaxing his left wing too early. Az had felt a spike of fear as the boy dropped to the considerable distance to the ground. This wasn't like when he'd trained Feyre. A child's wings were so delicate and a fall in the wrong direction could cause serious damage. Az knew that from experience. Nyx was on his feet in moments though, shaking off the fall and brushing the dirt of hiss wings.

Azriel called for a break when he sensed the boy getting tired, as he knew Nyx would never admit it; he was stubborn as his father and uncles when it came to showing weakness. They made their way to the nearby bank of the Sidra, seating themselves on a fallen log.

"Az," Nyx said, sounding a bit hesitant.

"Yeah?" Az took a swig from his water bottle.

"When did you learn to fly?" The water caught in his throat, and he coughed. "Because Cass said you didn't learn to fly like him and Dad. He didn't want to tell me what he meant though." Nyx looked at him expectantly, sapphire eyes wide. Dammit Cassian. Way to throw me in the deep end.

"Cass was right. I learnt differently to the others." Azriel paused, trying to find the right words, even as the memories of his formative years clawed at his mind. The cell. The darkness. The humourless laughter. His power and instincts screaming at him to get out, out, out! The shadows beginning to whisper to him in his dreams, then during the day, although it was often hard to tell which was which during those eleven years. The burning. Burning. Burning. Burn-