Her fae & His fairy

Chapter 30

Emerie:

It's the eerie silence that alerts me to her presence. The city's soldiers part like a silver wall, creating a path for her. She emerges, wings spread wide and majestic, a remarkable sight despite her petite frame. Shadows dance around her, and her black eyes seem to steal all the light, giving her an otherworldly appearance. Her wings, resembling those of a butterfly, capture the ambient light around her, appearing almost transparent in places where the colouring outlines the buildings like a skeletal framework.

In her grasp, she holds two little Illyrian girls, one in each hand, their eyes wide with a mix of fear and curiosity. The darkness around Euodia frames her small figure, making her resemble the painted picture of darkness. As she approaches, a group of young boys trails behind her. Spotting their fathers, the boys rush forward, eager for the safety of their arms. However, the girls linger behind, aware that being an Illyrian girl means their fathers might be their greatest adversaries.

With regal grace, she leads the little Illyrian girls beside her, emanating an aura of authority that transforms her from a lady to a queen. The murmurs and rustling around me grow louder, prompting me to turn my head. An elderly Illyrian female takes charge, forcefully pushing aside one of the males. The action sparks a collective response from other Illyrian females, forming a barrier that shifts the males to the periphery. The atmosphere crackles with anticipation as the females and girls prepare to greet this mysterious figure.

Out of my line of sight, I catch Cassian attempting to step forward, but Azriel restrains him with a firm hand on his shoulder. As the enigmatic being approaches, I sense an unusual aura emanating from her—a pervasive nothingness. It's like darkness, yet devoid of fear or panic. Instead, it engulfs everything, a vacuum of sound and sensation. When her black eyes fixate on an Illyrian male, he instinctively recoils, taking several steps back with a gasp. The effect is both mesmerising and unsettling.

The eldest of the Illyrian females, Finola, steps forward with an air of authority. Her long, white hair is meticulously braided and cascades down her back, adorned with iron jewellery. Intricate tattoos of cuffs encircle her wrists—a traditional symbol signifying a female bound to a male in the ancient Illyrian way. Finola stands as a formidable figure for every female in the Illyrian camps, a rare feat given that many do not live to reach her age of nearly 1300 years.

Her wings, still attached to her back, bear the scars of a tumultuous history. Instead of having them removed, large holes mar their surface, rendering them incapable of catching the wind. The visual testament to her resilience and defiance against a world that has tried to take away a piece of her identity is evident in the worn yet majestic appearance of her wings.

Finola steps purposefully toward Euodia, her gaze unwavering, as if daring the unknown being before her to reveal its true nature. The silence among the gathered Illyrians is palpable, and the air crackles with anticipation. Euodia, cloaked in an ever-expanding darkness, meets Finola's steady gaze, creating an eerie tableau.

Time seems to stand still as Euodia releases the hands of the young girls and moves closer to Finola. The tension in the air is thick, and I find myself holding my breath, counting the seconds. Sixty-two heartbeats pass before there is movement once more. This time, it's Finola, tears streaming down her weathered cheeks, who leans her head forward. In a gesture both tender and powerful, Euodia kisses Finola's forehead.

The Illyrian males, caught between awe and trepidation, exchange glances, unsure of how to interpret this unexpected communion between two powerful females. The shadows seem to linger, amplifying the mysterious encounter between Euodia and Finola.

Euodia, surrounded by a silent assembly of Illyrian females, raises her arms skyward in a gesture that seems to invoke a powerful force. The air becomes charged with an otherworldly energy as the dark-clad females stand in solidarity behind her, and their collective gaze focused on the males who have inflicted pain upon them. The shadows seem to deepen, embracing them like a shroud.