The Whispers of Shadows - Azriel

1

Pain. The darkness was filled with pain. Arms reaching out, nails snapping against wood as they clawed. Aurora couldn't hear a thing over the roaring in her ears. The darkness was loud.

"Damn it, Aldric! Let your sister out!"

Her father's booming voice broke through the darkness, as did the faint candlelight. The creaking of the door was the only thing that allowed Aurora to breathe. Finally. She scrambled for the dim light, shoving past the door and into the corridor. Her brother was grinning at her as he slammed it shut. He was horrendous, always teasing her about her fear of the darkness. He believed the frightening stories their mother had told them were only to scare the children from being naughty, but Aurora saw the truth.

Auburn hair fell over her eyes as she glared at her fair-haired brother. He only laughed, raising his arms and wiggling his fingers.

"Papa, he put me in the coat room!" Aurora called out, stomping her foot. Merely eight years old, but had the wrath of a centuries-old fae. Aldric, her fifteen year old brother was as evil as their father, had already learned of war at his young age. Oberon was the general of the Winter court armies, respected amongst the High Lord and citizens. Aurora didn't believe he deserved it. He was cruel, mainly to her.

"Silence, child! He meant no harm. It is far past dusk, go to bed!" Oberon bellowed from the sitting room. With another glare, a promise of revenge, Aurora stomped off to her bed chamber. The night was cold, as usual, but it seemed worse this night. Aurora wrapped herself in the warmest blankets, staring out the cracked window to the field of evenly laid snow. The night sky frightened her. She kept candles lit in every corner of the room, afraid that if one blew out, the creatures of the dark would grab her feet and drag her into the shadows.

She enjoyed the peak of stars and the moon through the clouds, but in this court, the clouds seemed to always hang low and coat it in darkness. She dreamed of visiting the Day Court, even Spring and Summer. Anything that would give her a hint of light.

Her brother tortured her, and her father allowed it. Amongst the people of snow-white hair, or hair of the darkest shade, Aurora had copper. Her mother had bed a lord of the Autumn Court, cheated on Oberon three years into the War, and Aurora had not met Oberon, whom she still called her father, until it was over. She was four years old, emerald eyes and crimson hair. Oberon had grown furious, full of uncontainable rage and had slaughtered her mother. Aurora did not remember her mother, but always felt a connection to the woman when the clouds would part and light would shine down onto her.

Aldric was favored, obviously, by Oberon. He was raising his son to be a warrior. At fifteen, he could wield a sword as well as the seasoned warriors of the army. Aurora had always been jealous of her brother, but the brutality of her father made her hate them both.

Aldric would practice his swordplay on his sister, backing her against walls and she screamed and begged for help. It never came. Her skin was littered with scars from being pierced and sliced by the sword over and over again, too often for the wounds to heal properly. Oberon would laugh and pat his son on the back for his experienced work.

Aurora sighed, tucking her legs to her chest and staring up at the one glimmering star that poked through the overcast. She was so tired of being helpless. She wanted to be able to fight back when Aldric terrorized her, wanted to see his face twist in horror when she pierced him with a sword. She was fierce when it came to her voice, but physically, Aurora was as fragile as the snowflakes that melted in her palm.

When the morning came, she had hardly slept. Aldric was peaking up through her window, scratching the steel blade against the glass and scaring her out of her sleep. She had cursed at him, hid beneath the blankets, but it continued throughout the night. She wished their Oberon would scold him for being outdoors during the night. He would always yell at her when she'd run out into the snow on particularly clear nights.