A Court of Golden Shadow || Elain x Azriel

Chapter 41 - Firedrake

"We have to help him." Elain pressed the damp cloth against Lucien's brow, her dark eyes flashing with concern, her face all but drained of color.

Azriel stared toward the collapsed male, now sprawled out across the small living room sofa in the townhouse, an amber fire crackling in the fireplace nearby.

Leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, Azriel steepled his hands, drawing his fingertips to his forehead as he rested his face on his thumbs. No. This... this was just... no. He had just gotten Elain. They had just begun their new life, their new routine here in Velaris—they had just begun healing from the stress of the summer, the drama of the meeting in Winter... and then that knock on the fucking door.

From the moment Lucien collapsed through the front door of the townhouse, Azriel had been stunned into silence.

All throughout the belabored explanation the roused fireling had offered between breathy sobs, Azriel had sat silent, calculating the risk, the odds, the likelihood of death. Elain had sat on the floor near the settee holding Lucien's hand as she looked up at him wide-eyed, raptly listening to the horrific story.

Vanserra had apparently invited Vassa and Jurrian to Patras.

His "found family" or whatever the hells it was called... Vanserra missed them. The summer with Elain had been long enough, and after the drama in Winter and Tamlin, he had longed for the normalcy of his friends. Lucien had been riding with Vassa, traversing the vineyards near Helion's sprawling palace, showing her some of his favorite pastures and the prized collection of Pegasi when he heard her shriek.

"I turned in my saddle and she was there, fallen on the ground, her face white and her body nearly aflame." Lucien shook his head, gulping down breaths of air as he struggled to maintain his composure, Elain still at his side, nodding encouragingly for him to continue. "I was worried she was transforming—her firebird form taking over perhaps? So I went to her, calling her name, but she wasn't there. I shook her, screaming her name, but she just stared blankly, her skin warm as her jaw fell open."

Elain shuddered, casting a worried glance to Azriel before turning back to Lucien. "But you were holding her? How did he take her?"

Lucien closed his eyes then, a single tear traveling down his face. "Yes. I was holding her. Her face swiveled to me, the blank hollow expression flooding her eyes as her mouth opened, and an eerie voice, one that was not hers. It was ancient... cold." He shuddered, now opening his eyes, gripping Elain's shoulder again. "The voice—it told me: you have until high noon. If you want to see her again, bring me the Cauldron."

"The Cauldron?" Elain whispered, her voice terrorized and shrill as her eyes searched Vanserra's face.

"I said the same thing." He whispered as well, shaking his head as his eyes closed again. "I said that's impossible."

"Well, it is impossible. The Cauldron is behind a barrier, on an island!" Elain furrowed her brows, shaking her head as well.

Lucien seemed to be growing faint again, the overwhelm of the day threatening to swallow him whole. "Vassa... or I guess, the voice... it just laughed before saying these words: 'there are yet Daughters of the Cauldron walking these lands: kin and offspring to whom the Cauldron will answer. And then she dissolved... in my hands, the laugh echoing through the vineyard."

And at those words, Elain recoiled, her entire body separating from Lucien as she scrambled backward, moving toward Azriel, as she uttered a single word: "No."

Coming back to the present, Azriel glanced toward Elain, his eyes dark and brooding.

"What choice do we have," she looked toward him, her voice a low hiss as she poured another cup of warm tea for the silent Shadowsinger. "I'm the only one who can save Vassa. Lucien, you heard him! He went to Sandrielle before coming here—he asked her, about the possibility. About my powers and the concept of being 'Made.' She said it was possible: that I could help."