The artwork above is not mine.

•~ ❘ ۞ ❘ ~•

    "You call yourself a High Lord. How did you claim your power?"

    Eris covered his ears to the voice that roared in them. He drew his knees up to his chest and breathed. His heart was racing in fear.

    "Well, you can have the power if you want it. I have something better," the voice laughed. "Look."

    He wouldn't. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. The male who carried that voice was dead. Eris had killed him.

    "Yes, you did kill me," the voice whispered. "But I have not left you. Look."

    "I won't." Eris kept his eyes closed and touched his forehead to his knees.

    "Look, my son."

    How he longed to rebuke that statement. How he wished he was anyone else. How he longed for Lucien's hidden identity. Oh to be anyone else's son...just not his father's.

    "Look!" The voice of his father demanded. "Look, Eris! Look!"

    An unseen force jerked Eris' head up. He was back in the lowest part of the Forest House. The torture chamber was intact. Every piece of metal he'd melted had been restored. The bloodstained table stood in the center of the room. Chained atop it was his mother. Her eyes were closed. She drew no breath.

    "Do you see what you've done?" His father sneered. "Look at her. Look at her and know you were the cause of this."

    "This isn't real. She's with Helion, in the Day Court." Eris stared at her body in horror.

    "Is she? Or is she here?"

    He...he didn't know. Eris turned his face away. He wouldn't look at this. It wasn't real. It couldn't be.

    "Look again, my son. Look."

    Eris unwittingly turned his head. His mother was gone. In her place lay Evren, covered in bloody wounds. Blood gurgled in her throat and leaked from the corners of her mouth. Eris pushed himself to his feet and ran to her.

    "This isn't real. This can't be real," he whispered. Evren's distraught gaze searched his. More blood dripped from her lips. Eris cupped her face in his hands. She felt real. It couldn't be real.

    "You are pathetic," his father growled. "You have allowed a Human to soften your heart. A Human! You are weak! You must be weak, or you would have a powerful High Fae as your equal!"

    Eris didn't answer. He was too busy trying to convince himself that his surroundings weren't real. Evren's breath rattled between her teeth, then fell silent. Eris felt her death as sharply as though his very soul had been torn in half. Tears sprang into his eyes. This was not real. This couldn't be real. He couldn't lose her. His mother. This couldn't be real.

    His father was laughing at his pain. "Weak. Pathetic. Just a boy pretending to be a High Lord. You are nothing. You have always been nothing. That is all you will ever be!"

    Eris whirled with a roar. Flames sparked to life around his hands. His father's form wavered with a laugh, then vanished. He fell to his knees as the room went dark. He was the only one there now. His hands were stained with her blood.

•~ ❘ ۞ ❘ ~•

    Evren entered the house quietly. Her bracelet and daggers vanished at once. It seemed Eris had upgraded his wards to recover those items from her when she returned from assignments.

    She mounted the stairs wearily. Her target tonight had given her a hard time, but she had succeeded as usual. She'd give her report to Eris before going to bed so she could sleep in later in the morning, she decided.

    Evren reached the stair landing and started down the hallway. A dim light flickered from the crack beneath Eris' door. She knocked lightly. The door creaked open. Evren poked her head inside.

    Eris was asleep, but judging from his expression, his dreams were not pleasant. His breath quickened and flames crackled over his fingertips. Evren entered the room. She let her footsteps fall loudly for once.

    Eris bolted upright, pulling a dagger out from beneath his pillow. Sweat gleamed on his bare skin. Evren lifted her hands. "It's just me." He set the dagger down. "Why didn't you pull that on me when we first met?"

    "Because I was curious." He dropped his head into his hands.

    "My target is dead. It took longer than I expected. He put up a fight." Eris didn't reply. Evren crossed her arms. "Are you all right?"

    "I was dreaming," he murmured. "My father was talking to me. He called me weak. Pathetic. Nothing. He took me to the lowest chamber in this house. My mother was there, dead. And then..." he scrubbed at his face. "You were."

    "I was what?"

    "You were there. I watched you die."

    "Do you have nightmares like that a lot?"

    "Occasionally. They started after I killed my father."

    Evren sat down beside him. "Do you feel guilty for killing him?"

    Eris' gaze hardened. "No. He was a cruel bastard who deserved death. He betrayed all of us and sided with Koschei during Prythian's last war."

    Evren was silent as he began to tell her the tale. "Koschei was an ancient creature, once revered as a god by Fae. He took control of the four living Mortal Queens and harnessed the power of Prythian's most devastating artifacts. The Dread Trove, the Cauldron, and weapons that were Made by Nesta Archeron."

    "My father recruited people for his army. He managed to secure the loyalty of several Illyrian warlords and their forces. Koschei used the Cauldron to create terrible beasts to send into battle as well. During the battle, my father led an attack on Tamlin in the Spring Court."

    "Azriel and I went to stop him, because we'd learned that Seren had gone to warn Tamlin. She was pregnant at the time. When we got there, Seren had gone into labor and my father was winning. Azriel got Seren to safety while I confronted my father."

    "I killed him with Seren's sword, Elysian. When he died, the powers of the High Lord of Autumn passed on to me. My other brothers were already dead. I left my father's corpse in the Spring Court. Tamlin left him in the open to rot and be eaten by scavengers."

    Eris sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Even though he's dead, sometimes it feels like he hasn't left. He's watching me from somewhere, waiting for me to slip up. Waiting for his next chance to hurt me. To hurt those I've come to care about."

    "He's dead now and he can't harm you or anyone else," Evren said.

    "He can in my dreams." Evren slid off the bed and began undoing the buckles on her leathers. Eris' eyes widened. "What are you doing?"

    "When I was little and had a nightmare, I would go into my parent's room and sleep with them. Just having them nearby was comforting." She shucked off the leathers, leaving her dressed in a thin undershirt and a pair of fitted leggings. "If I woke with another nightmare, Father would get up and search the room for monsters. Mother stroked my hair and promised the monsters couldn't get me.

    She kicked her leathers aside and twisted back onto the bed. "What are you doing?" Eris repeated.

    "I'm going to stay. You're going to sleep."

    "You don't need to."

    Evren slipped a pillow beneath her head and curled up on top of the covers. Eris sighed and rolled back onto his stomach beneath them. "Do you always sleep on your stomach?" She asked.

    "Yes."

    "Why?"

    "So that if someone tries to kill me in my sleep, I'll have a slightly higher chance of surviving their first attack. And if they succeed, everyone who sees my body will know that the person who killed me was scared to confront me face to face when I died." He smiled a bit. "If you had killed me, there would have been some confusion. I would have died on my stomach but with a slit throat."

    "I never have been one who likes stabbing people in the back."

    She let her gaze wander. Especially not when their back looked like his. It was marked by a few scars. She wondered about their origins, but didn't ask. Almost without thinking, Evren reached a hand towards him. He didn't move as she ran her nails across his shoulder blade. His breath hitched. She did it again.

    Evren pulled her hand away abruptly and rolled over. She could feel Eris' gaze on her. When she looked back over her shoulder though, his eyes were closed. His breaths had evened out and were heavy with sleep. Evren closed her eyes and slept too.

•~ ❘ ۞ ❘ ~•

    When Eris woke the next morning, Evren was soundly sleeping. How anyone could sleep without at least one blanket, he didn't know. Still, he understood why she avoided them. He'd avoid them too if he'd been buried alive in something similar to one.

    Eris touched her hair lightly. Dark curls hung over her face. She made a small sound as one brushed against her nose. Eris moved it away, then rolled out of bed. He pulled a shirt on quickly and headed towards the door.

    Eris paused, looking back at Evren's sleeping figure. He grinned to himself. He could get used to seeing her in his bed, that was for certain. He ducked out the door and made his way outside.

    The morning was cool and his breath hung in the air. Frost would come soon, which meant a holiday was coming up. The Frost Festival. It fell on a different day every year, but usually within the same time frame. The Festival began the first morning there was frost on the ground. It signified the height of Autumn across Prythian, mostly in the Mortal Lands and Solar Courts. It was a revered holiday to the members of the Autumn Court.

    Of course, Eris had never gone to a celebration. His father had found it ridiculous and forbade his family from attending. This year, though, he would go. His people would see that their High Lord valued the same things they did.

    Eris reached the training ring and set to work. He ran through several warmups, then began working on his hand to hand combat forms. Something caught his attention from the corner of his eye. Evren stood out on his balcony, watching him. He grinned and looked away. Maybe, just maybe, she would agree to attend the Festival with him.