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57. The Burning One

Please read the end notes!

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The other half of Azriel's soul rushed headlong back into his body as if it'd been waiting for this moment for centuries — and it probably had.

A pain like no other emanated from his fingertips and toes, and right when he thought it couldn't get any worse, it did; it combusted, erupted. Silver flashed, and then warm, Autumnal colors flickered and flamed. Azriel heard music and cheering and laughter, children.

The pain burned through every inch of his body, blinding him. A female whose face was blurry but familiar danced by him in a white dress, her ruby ring tugging at his heartstrings for some reason. Her dancing partner, a redheaded male whose face was also hazy, picked her up and spun her around in slow motion. Azriel's hands moved to (Y/n)'s waist, and then he was whirling her around too. Little by little, her face — her scarred face? — crystallized, glowing, dappled with firelight.

The tears flowing down her cheeks glimmered until they confronted the shadowy curve of her neck.

The pain reduced Azriel to stardust and then brought him back to life, Making him from nothing.

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As if it was alive, as if it was a monster, the dark swallowed Azriel whole and then spat him back out. He hurtled through space until he landed in a body.

"Do you know who you are?"

When Azriel blinked his eyes open, they were encountered with the Illyrian countryside in the west. The sun was setting, but it was unnaturally bright. He squinted against it and then looked up at—

His mother was already looking down at him, waiting for an answer. She repeated her question, "Do you know who you are?"

"Mama . . ." Azriel tried to hold her hand, his own chubby and scar-free, but when he touched her, she moved away, blocking out the sun.

His mother's silhouette caught fire. She repeated her question again, "Do you know who you are?"

Azriel's eyes widened. "Mama . . !" He tried to run to her but couldn't. The distance between them was growing. "Mama!" He covered his eyes when the sunlight became too much, and then the world turned upside down.

Azriel scrambled for purchase, but there was only grass, and then suddenly, he was falling into the sky. He screamed and screamed and screamed as he fell through clouds, as he fell through reds, oranges, yellows, blues, and purples. And even though he'd never been taught to fly, he flapped his wings.

The colors of the sky faded to black.

"Mama!"

Azriel's deep voice scared him. He blindly touched his hands in the dark and knew he wasn't a child anymore.

"Do you know what you are?"

Azriel looked down and crashed into a chair. It broke, and he bellowed as he rolled across a black marble floor. He sat up, expecting to be in pain, but nothing hurt.

And then something moved out of the corner of his eye. He jumped to his feet. Even though he was a danger to himself and useless without his siphons, he wouldn't go down without a fight. But when he saw what he was up against, not who, he went very still.

Night and starlight sheathed in silver flames stood from their throne and descended their dais. "Better yet," —the being's androgynous voice made Azriel shiver— "do you know what I am?"