A Court of Golden Shadow || Elain x Azriel

Chapter 15 - Yin & Yang

Elain leaned against the curtained archway in her bedroom, staring out across the river toward the Pegasi pasture. She was having a difficult time calming herself down after the argument with Lucien, her heart rate thumping too quickly with the adrenaline of confronting him.

It was so rare for Elain to fight with anyone; it felt like she had expended all her energy on the sheer strength it had taken to speak her mind. Sighing, she allowed her body to slide down the column, slumping onto the cold marble, her skirts pooling around her as she hugged her legs toward her chest, resting her forehead on her knees.

She felt exhausted.

And hollow.

She realized, pressing her forehead into the cotton fabric of her riding skirts, that she had no desire to rush back toward her mate, either to reconcile OR to continue the fight. It was like she had nothing left but empty indifference, both toward how he felt about her, and how she felt about him. She just didn't care if he was angry, or felt guilty, or thought she was silly or crazy, or rude. It didn't matter anymore.

Because they were already going to be together.

The Cauldron had decided it.

And Elain was trusting the Cauldron.

So it didn't matter how many spats, or arguments, or failed riding lessons happened between them. It was already written in the stars: they were mates.

Sighing, she rose from the ground, breathing out a curse word, her eyes scanning her room. Who in the hells had said she was beloved by the Cauldron? Because unless she was in an abusive relationship with the damned magical artifact, this "blessing" felt like a curse. Her eyes drifted across her room, landing on the nightstand beside her bed, stacked with volumes she had requested from Helion's library for reading material during the past month in Patras.

And sitting at the top of the pile was a scholarly tome on the history of Shadowsingers.

Elain recalled the first night reading the book after an evening spent with Lucien and Helion, the latter who had entertained them with stories of how he came to be the High Lord of the Day Court. Returning to her rooms, spent from the conversation, Elain had been pleased to see her requested books placed on the nightstand. She began reading immediately, tucked deep into her comforters, and did not leave her rooms until the following afternoon when she had turned the final page.

To say that the tome had impacted her was an understatement.

It had shaken her to her core: the words, jumping off the pages and falling into the darkest parts of her imagination as she learned the horrific truth of what it was to be chosen by Shadow.

Because Elain learned that to become a Shadowsinger, one must endure horrific torture, depravity, and pain. These acts of violence and persecution must occur during the formative years of a Shadowsingers life, most often when they are children. And because of this fact alone, Shadowsingers are a rare occurrence, even in the magical fae realms, for the sheer depravity one must endure to find the Shadow their only friend and company, yet survive, it is often impossible. It is common for these children to pass away or be killed before reaching adulthood, due to the extreme trauma and torture they had been subjected to.

Violence. Depravity. Torture. Pain.

It was unbearable to read, and to imagine Azriel suffering as just a child, unable to escape the imprisonment and evil, and from his own family, as Feyre had mentioned one time in passing... it was the worst thing Elain had ever imagined.

She had spent that day in her bedroom, crying and clutching the book, her mind unable to release the images of his suffering, her soul filled with gut-wrenching pain at his agony. She imagined him resting his head on her lap in her gardens, stroking his soft hair as he told her of what he endured, finding her a safe place to land, someone who would listen. She found herself wishing that he would someday trust her enough to open up even the darkest side of himself.