The artwork above is not mine.

•༻☾☽༺•

    By the time Azriel finished sending out messengers and reached Windhaven, the war camp was already prepared for battle. He scanned the ranks of warriors, searching for his brothers. Azriel found Rhys standing near Jorah.

    "Cassian took Gwyn and Emerie to spread the word to the other camps," Rhys explained. "They'll be getting back soon." Azriel crossed his arms with a nod. "Jorah."

    "Yes?" She straightened at once.

    "You'll lead the grounded Illyrians when we reach Hybern. They trust you and I know you'll do well."

    Jorah's eyes widened. "I...thank you."

    "Does she get a title and rank?" Azriel asked.

    Rhys gave Jorah a sideways grin. "Cassian picked it out, so if you don't like it, blame him." Jorah bit her lip excitedly. "General of the Illyrian Infantry."

    "It sounds very professional," Jorah chuckled. "I like it."

    "Also known as General of the Harpies," Rhys finished. Jorah raised an eyebrow. "That was Devlon's addition."

    "Of course." Jorah rolled her eyes and turned away. Azriel saw a hint of color in her cheeks as she did.

    They waited another hour before Cassian returned with Gwyn and Emerie. Devlon emerged from his hut. "The camps are ready. They'll take off when we do," Cassian reported to Rhys.

    Rhys sighed. "Then let's go. We should have a campsite set up before the others arrive. We'll need a place to treat the wounded." He faced the gathered Illyrians and began to call orders.

    Azriel tuned him out as the shadows pulled his attention to Jorah and Devlon. The shadows remained quiet and Azriel listened. "General of the Harpies?" Jorah huffed. "I'm not sure if I should be insulted or honored."

    "That depends on how you define harpy," Devlon replied. His hazel eyes remained impassive as he looked her over.

    "And how would you define it?"

    Devlon smirked and lowered his voice. "A beautiful and devastating predator."

    Cassian appeared beside Azriel. "Tell me I did not just hear Devlon flirting with my little sister," he growled.

    "It's better than him degrading her," Azriel replied.

    "I'm not sure I agree." Cassian glowered at Devlon as he walked past. Jorah joined her warriors and Cassian fell in place beside her.

    Rhys nodded to Azriel. The Illyrian Legion took off, headed by Rhys and Devlon. Azriel let his shadows expand across the remaining warriors. He measured his breaths, already feeling the strain of transporting so many people. The shadows grew thick around them. When they cleared, Azriel stood once more in Hybern.

    Cassian began shouting orders and the Illyrians were quick to obey. Tents were erected. Medical supplies were stashed in a few of them. Weapon racks, armor supplies, and makeshift smithies were put into place.

    Azriel flew up onto a stone mesa and examined the landscape. This part of Hybern was nothing but despairing stone. The ground was gray. The sky was a dim blue. The sunlight was cold. A few flakes of snow swirled down from the clouds overhead.

    There would be very little cover for the ground forces. Only crumbling bits of the mesas provided sustainable cover. Azriel scanned the skies once more. Drakon never mentioned whether the Vanth could fly or not, he thought. If they can't, we might have some advantages. Of course, Koschei could always create winged creatures from the Cauldron as well.

    He turned, hearing the flap of wings. The Illyrian Legion was arriving. Many warlords now accompanied Devlon and Rhys at the head of the Legion. They landed and more work began. Rhys joined Azriel atop the mesa shortly.

    "We need to locate Koschei and find out what he's doing. I'm sure he already has eyes on us," Rhys said.

    "I'll scout him out. He can't be far." Azriel jerked his head towards the valley. Rhys followed his gaze. Hunkered down behind part of a collapsed mesa was a Vanth. Rhys stared at the creature until it melted back into the shadows.

    "Be careful. If those things can move through shadow, they might be able to see through them too," Rhys said.

    Azriel nodded and jumped into the air. Shadows curled over him. He soared above the somber land. The Vanth reappeared a short distance ahead. Azriel began to track the creature. It would disappear for a few minutes, before manifesting in another spot just ahead. The creature did not fly. It didn't look up. It just continued to travel.

    Gradually, sounds rose on the wind. Azriel could hear the clang of metal and raised voices. A tremor of power rolled over him. Azriel froze and stared in terror at what he beheld. The land was covered for miles around. Vanth, Illyrians, Humans, and Fae alike made up Koschei's forces. But not only them. The longer Azriel looked, the more creatures he saw. Wings, fangs, talons, scales...each creature was more horrible than the last. The worst of them resembled a creature he'd only heard stories about, the Wyvern.

    These Wyvern were not like the ones in the stories, though. They were larger than the Vanth. Their frames were sturdy. Their wingspans were four times the size of his own. From his vantage point in the sky, Azriel could see the glint of their onyx teeth, the length of his arm and twice as thick. Azriel sent the images to Rhys swiftly, but didn't bother with words.

    He squeezed his eyes shut momentarily. Those creatures would tear through the Illyrians, Peregryns, and Seraphim as though they were nothing but moths. Azriel forced himself to continue on. He flew closer to the camp, aware of the creatures below him.

    Tents had been put up beyond the army lines. Beron Vanserra emerged from one, followed by his three sons. Erebus, Osiris, and Seker left another. They were joined by a fourth Illyrian, who Azriel recognized as his own father. There was no sign of Koschei or the Queens.

    "The Illyrian Legion is gathering just beyond the mesas," Seker said. "It won't be long before the rest of their forces arrive." His amber siphons flashed.

    "Patience," Beron snapped. "We need them all here before anything can be done."

    Osiris picked at his nails, seemingly disinterested. "Have you come up with a plan for dealing with him?"

    "If you have an ounce of sense in that brain of yours, you'll be quiet."

    "And if you have an ounce of sense in yours, you'll tell us your plan before it's too late to enact it."

    Beron has a secondary plan? Azriel wondered. He flew closer.

    "Fine." Beron waved the group closer. "I've made a deal with the eldest Queen. When the time comes and the other High Lords have been wiped out, she will wield her power against her sisters and the creatures. With their aide, we'll be able to kill him."

    "And then?" Osiris prompted.

    "We kill the Queens and I take the Cauldron and Trove for myself. I rule Prythian and Hybern, but leave the Night Court lands and the people therein to the lot of you. You can kill each other over who rules there. I don't care who wins."

    "Well, it certainly won't be you." Osiris fixed his golden gaze on Erebus. Azriel saw a promise in those eyes. Osiris already saw himself as ruler of the Night Court. Anyone who refused him that power would meet a quick end.

    Another ripple of power came over him. Azriel lifted his gaze to the flatlands beyond the camp. A wave of Wyvern flew towards him. He soared higher, narrowly avoiding running into the creatures. They landed with their own kind. Azriel looked back the way they'd come.

    A tall white haired male stood before a large black Cauldron. He touched the rim of the great and terrible object. The Cauldron's surface was still once more. He's been creating creatures in small waves, so the surge of power was undetectable in Prythian, Azriel realized.

    Four women stood beyond Koschei. The eldest wore the Crown. The second's face was covered by the Mask. The third held the Harp. Around Vassa's neck rested an Amulet. The three older Queens each held one of Nesta's weapons.

    Azriel examined Vassa closely. Her eyes were empty. The Queen is silenced, the shadows whispered. Her thoughts are blocked. She is not living. She is trapped.

    I know. The Crown is being used to control her. Azriel turned away from the scene. Shadows carried him back to the Illyrian's encampment. When he landed, he saw that the Seraphim had already arrived. The Peregryns were there too, accompanied by several of Thesan's High Fae warriors.

    Azriel landed and allowed the shadows to draw back. More and more High Fae were arriving now. Amren fell in step with him. "Your messengers delivered the news fast. All of the High Lords are here and their warriors are on their way."

    "Good."

    "What is it?"

    Azriel paused, looking Amren in the eye. "We aren't going to win this."

    "Why? What are you talking about?"

    "Az!" Rhys appeared up ahead. He sprinted towards them. The other High Lords followed. "I showed them."

    "Showed them what?" Amren asked. Rhys fell silent and Azriel knew his brother was showing her the terrible truth. "He's been keeping himself busy," Amren murmured at last.

    "I might have an idea," Rhys said.

    Eris shouldered his way in between Kallias and Helion. "You'd better be sure about this. I don't think we're going to get more than one chance to stop Koschei. We can't afford to waste lives."

    "Beron is planning to kill Koschei as well, once all of you are dead," Azriel interrupted. "He said the eldest Queen will use the Crown to turn Koschei's forces against him. Once he is dead, Beron will have the Queens killed. He'll rule Prythian and Hybern, and told Erebus, Osiris, Seker, and my father that they could fight amongst themselves over who gets to rule the Night Court lands."

    "Like hell any of them will rule my lands," Rhys snarled.

    "So what's your plan?" Tarquin asked.

    "Gather your generals and bring them to the war tent. I'll explain there." The High Lords nodded and the group dispersed.

•༻☾☽༺•

    Night had fallen by the time Seren finished cleaning up the art studio. Nyx was already sound asleep in his room, with Cerridwen watching over him.

    There was a soft rap on the door before Madja entered. "How are you feeling?"

    "Exhausted. Restless." Seren set several jars of paint in a cabinet. "Anxious."

    "You should try to sleep."

    "Do you think I can stomach sleeping in my cozy bed while knowing my family is out there on some Mother forsaken battlefield?" Seren hissed. She clapped a hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry, Madja."

    Madja waved a dismissive hand. "You're concerned. I understand." She guided Seren out of the art studio. "But you need to rest. Trust me."

    "I won't be able to." Seren gritted her teeth, feeling a harsh wing flutter. "And this one wouldn't let me even if I thought I could."

    Madja smiled. "You'll get even less sleep once the baby arrives."

    "That's good to know," Seren groaned.

    She began climbing the stairs. Madja followed until she reached her room. Seren fell onto the bed and closed her eyes. Shadows wove through her hair. The baby kicked and Seren twisted onto her back. Try as she might, she couldn't manage to fall asleep.