Private Tales Constancy

[Faolan]

Faolan was having the second-shittiest day of his life.

The ley line spat him out from between like a cat vomiting a hairball. He looked about the same as he lay in the mud gathering the strength to continue. He struggled to rise, stumbling before finally standing upright and lifting his face to the rain. It was hot, sobering, but offered him no relief from his pain and exhaustion.

Attempting to get his bearings, Faolan surveyed the surrounding wilderness. There were no visible landmarks in the dense forest, so he reached his senses out to the leys – to no avail. There was nothing left of his magick to wring out, all of it used up getting him this far. He could feel the ley beneath his feet but no further.

He was close. He had to be.

Capable and self-assured, there was typically very little that could shake Faolan. Yet as he stood in the downpour, trying to determine how close he was to the southern border of the Summer Court, his chest constricted. His heart thundered, he choked on his labored breaths, and his head was spinning. It was a feeling he'd never truly experienced before he’d discovered that Amaryllis was missing: panic.

Titania’s justice had been swift and, though the investigation supported his innocence, nearly fatal. If it hadn’t been for his brother’s quick political maneuvering, Faolan might have been burned before the Court for failing to protect the Summer Princess.

Living had not been much of a mercy. Faolan had been stripped of his rank, fitted with a charmed tracking and tethering bracelet, and shipped off to a shitty job in the hottest part of the Summer Court. His family distanced themselves from him, hoping to save their good reputations from the dark smear on his. Whispers followed him, hushed voices accusing him of the unimaginable. He had lost everything. Worst of all, Amaryllis was gone.

Years were nothing to the duanann, but Faolan had felt every day, every minute like a stone slowly crushing him. For years he had cried out for her in the dark, reaching down the bond between them to prove that she was still out there. There was never an answer.

Silence, agony, guilt – they circled him like sharks, chipping away at his will to endure.

Then, a voice called to him through the dark. Clear, sweet, and so painfully unsure, he'd mistaken it for his cruel imagination at first. He'd wept at the chime of Amaryllis’ voice in his mind. She was alive. She was alive. The line of promise encircling his pinky had burned with his renewed conviction, with hope. Once more his life had purpose.

It had been easy to decide to leave the Summer Court. As soon as he knew she was beyond its reach, he’d abandoned his life without saying goodbye to any of it, without regret or even hesitation.

Getting out of the Summer Court wasn't easy. Lorcán was certainly helping, but he couldn’t cross into Summer territory to pull Faolan out. It was on him to cross the border, which meant traveling to the remnants of the Spring Court was his best shot at escape.

At first, it had been almost too easy. Then, without warning, he'd been yanked from between. Faolan stumbled, alarmed and confused as he tried to keep his feet under him. His wrist burned like it was on fire, the bracelet superheated from traveling between. He had the distinct feeling of someone pulling his hand… toward Vhora. It was a warning that he was beyond the permitted length of his leash. It was a gods damned alarm alerting Summer of his flight.

Over and over, he dove between only to be pulled out. He'd cloaked himself in magick, given everything to make it. He had to make it. There was nothing left for him to give now. He'd have to go the rest of the way on foot.

Pain shot up his arm, white-hot. Faolan looked down and pushed back his sleeve. The bracelet was bright in the darkness of the stormy forest. Dark, spidery tendrils crept over his skin and his limb was heavy. The acrid scent of burned flesh stung in his nose and he quickly yanked the sleeve back down.

Panic seized him, nausea making him unsteady. No. She was alive and waiting for him. He had to make it. He had to keep going.

Faolan slogged for what felt like an eternity through the dark until he finally reached a vantage point. In a flash of lighting he could see a river in the distance and he sucked in a breath. That was it: the border between Summer and Spring.

Strength renewed, he picked his way down the steep incline. Rain continued to pour down, making the way treacherous for his tiring body. Faolan pressed on with as much speed as he could manage. Help was on the other side of that river, waiting for his signal.

The trees grasped at his clothes and hair. The muddy bank sucked at his boots. The current struck him hard, pulling him under. Everything in this humid, miserable corner of nowhere held him back, but Faolan refused to fail now. A little farther and he could rest. A little more, and he'd see her again. He grasped at their bond like a lifeline and his hope carried him forward.

As soon as he pulled himself up onto solid ground on the far bank, Faolan withdrew a wooden cylinder from his pocket. He twisted it, the top half splintering off with a loud crack, and held the open end skyward.

An arrow struck his shoulder with a wet thunk and a second whizzed past his ear. He cried out, staggering. The flare shot off at a sharp angle, twisting and squealing over the treetops. Faolan dropped the spent flare and whirled around in time to avoid being skewered as a Summer Court soldier rushed him.

Adrenaline supplied the strength he didn't have to meet the attack. The former Knight Captain grabbed his adversary by the wrist, angled the blade away, and locked him in melee proximity. The soldier maneuvered and his elbow jabbed Faolan's chest. With a grunt, he drove his knee up into the soldier's gut and his opponent wheezed. As he doubled over, Faolan shoved his fingers into his helm for purchase. He spun them both and used the soldier as a shield against two more incoming arrows. Both shots penetrated the soldier's plate armor. Faolan took the sword from the dying soldier’s hand and let him fall limply to the ground. He reached back and snapped the shaft of the arrow still protruding from his left shoulder with a string of curses.

Two archers stood on the Summer Court bank, already preparing another volley. Beside them, an individual dressed in the garb of a Knight Captain stood with his hand extended over the water. Two more soldiers were crossing the river – running over the top of its frozen surface.

There was no possible outcome where he won this fight. The adrenaline that had fueled his defense was quickly draining out of him, replaced by a bone-deep weariness. The rain on his shoulders felt heavier than before. Faolan had a moment to feel sorry that he'd made it this close to freedom, to Amaryllis. He regretted that his death would sadden her. He regretted a lot of things, actually. Gritting his teeth and ignoring the tremble in his whole body, he braced himself to meet the approaching soldiers. He wouldn't go down without a fight.

|| Lorcán • Amaryllis ||​

 

[Lorcán]

Perched on the highest branch of an ancient oak, Lorcan shifted restlessly, his raven form blending seamlessly into the shadows of the storm. The storm clouds rolled overhead, casting everything in shades of grey and black, the wind carrying the scent of rain and blood. His sharp eyes scanned the distant forest, looking for any sign of the male he'd reluctantly agreed to help.

Every second that passed gnawed at his patience. Trusting anyone from the Summer Court at this moment was reckless, especially with a price on his own head. But Amaryllis had asked him to do this. For her, he would.

So Lorcan waited, listening for the faintest disturbance in the leys, watching for the smallest flicker of movement beneath the forest’s veil.

Then, movement, sound, light - tore through the sky with a sharp crack, bright against the storm’s dark belly.
Without hesitation, Lorcan spread his wings, and launched himself toward the source of the light. He moved like a shadow, slicing through the air with deadly precision. As he neared the riverbank, his keen vision caught sight of Faolan, and those that hunted him.

Shit.

Faolan was barely holding them off, an arrow already lodged in his shoulder. Lorcan felt the cold weight of the shadow stirring as his body began to shift mid-flight. Feathers bled into muscle, talons morphed into feet as he hit the ground in a low crouch, silent as death itself.

The nearest soldier didn’t even see him coming. Lorcan called the darkness around him, the shadows extending like tendrils from the earth. In an instant, they solidified into a sharp, gleaming spear, which he hurled toward the first archer. The soldier's bow dropped as the shadowy weapon drove through his chest, a gurgled scream escaping his lips before he collapsed.

Lorcan rose, his eyes a storm of fury. Another archer loosed an arrow in his direction, but Lorcan’s hand snapped up, summoning the shadows to form a barrier before him. The arrow shattered harmlessly against the wall of darkness, scattering like dust. With a flick of his wrist, the shield dissolved, reforming into twin blades of shadow that glinted wickedly in the dim light.

“Get behind me!” Lorcan called out to Faolan, his voice sharp but steady. The Summer Fae's exhaustion was palpable, and the soldiers were closing in, their eyes filled with the kind of zeal that comes from orders straight from the top. The kind that shone with the daydream of potential praise they'd receive should they win this particular bounty.

Another soldier lunged toward them, sword raised. Lorcan’s blade met him mid-swing, deflecting the blow and sending a surge of shadowy energy coursing through his opponent’s body. The soldier froze, his eyes widening in fear as darkness engulfed him, snuffing out his life like a candle.

The remaining soldiers were regrouping on the far bank, the Knight Captain's eyes fixed on the pair. It wouldn't be long before they tried something bold. As much as he'd have loved to stay and play, this wasn't about his own rage, or his ego. It was about getting Faolan out of here.

“We need to go,” Lorcan growled. He didn’t wait for an answer. Reaching out with his magic, he wove the shadows together once more, pulling them into a thick veil of darkness that stretched between the trees. The oppressive blackness expanded, swallowing the little battlefield and shrouding them from the enemy's sight.

"Move."

 

[Faolan]

The soldiers’ boots hit the shore, and Faolan tightened his weak grip on the hilt of his sword. He was as ready as he could make himself when a bolt of darkness struck the ground. Dark wings and shadows unfurled, heralding the rescue Faolan hadn't dared to hope for. Lorcán. He'd made it in time.

Now they had a chance. And by they, he meant Lorcán. He watched the Autumn Prince dispatch the Summer soldiers with vicious efficiency and immediately followed his order. Faolan hustled to get behind Lorcán’s path of death, but he kept a sharp eye on the fight, analyzing, measuring.

They didn't have long after Lorcán snuffed out the last guard on this side of the river. Before the wall of darkness obscured them – and their enemy – Faolan could see the Summer Forces regrouping. The Knight Captain was shouting orders, his words lost beneath the hiss of the rain.

Faolan turned to follow Lorcán, already breathless.

“Lorcán,” he panted. “They put a tracker on me.” No time to express his thanks right now. He shoved his sleeve up his arm and thrust it out for Lorcán to see. The band dug into his skin, blotchy and bruising. His fingers were sickly pale, barely retaining feeling now, and the dark tendrils were visibly expanding.

A bolt of fire hurtled through the dark cloud, narrowly missing both Faolan and Lorcán. Where it hit, the ball began to spread, a line of fire racing to cut off their path. Overhead, a pair of falcons dove out of the dark branches and shifted, the forms of two Summer soldiers glinting gold in the dark as they launched their attacks. One moved to Lorcán, the other to him.

The soldier moving toward Lorcán carried no weapon and wore lightly armored robes. They raised their hands with a flourishing gesture and the air pulsed, drawn in as the caster created a vacuum. No oxygen, no sound.

Faolan slid to a halt and raised his sword to block his opponent's strike, his defense weak. He ground his teeth and his arms strained to thrust back, but before he could make a defensive action, the soldier thrust their off hand forward, palm out and fingers straight. A gust of air pummeled him. Faolan was knocked back, wheezing as he hit the ground, but he quickly regained his footing. Just in time; the soldier was already coming at him.

He swung low, cutting upward, but the soldier was quick. He blocked and turned his sword, slashing toward Faolan. Craning back, Faolan narrowly missed losing the better half of his head. Taking advantage of the opening, he drew the dagger from his belt and slammed it between armor plates.

Blood squelched out over his hand and chest. Faolan pushed, throwing the soldier's weight away from him and removing the dagger as they stumbled apart. They both staggered to their feet but Faolan was quicker to the draw; he threw the dagger. It flew with deadly precision through the ocularium in the visor.

The soldier was dead before their body hit the ground.

|| Lorcán • Amaryllis ||​

 

[Lorcán]

Lorcan's heart sank as Faolan's words echoed in the chaos. A tracker. The weight of the revelation anchored him with the grim reality of their situation.

“Fuck!” he spat, frustration mingling with urgency. Fleeing wouldn’t do much good now, and there was no way he was taking Faolan anywhere near Endora until that tracker was removed. There was little choice but to deal with them here and now, though without backup, he could only hope their numbers ceased to evolve.

Before Lorcan could formulate a plan, a bolt of fire shot through the darkness, igniting the ground beside them. The explosion of heat and flame surged toward them, forcing him to pull Faolan closer. He scanned the battlefield, eyes narrowed against the pelting rain as they followed the brief flight of those falcons before they shifted. Their arrival done absolutely nothing for Lorcan's rapidly deteriorating mood.

"Don't die." he warned Faolan as the soldiers approached without hesitation. Clearly his reputation wasn't quite terrible enough.

The autumn prince flourished the dark blades in his hands as the soldier approached him, though the smirk on his lips was short lived as the air around him seemed to halt. He tried to breathe in, but nothing filled his lungs. The rain, the fire, the sounds of battle all snuffed out, and all he could hear was the pounding of blood in his ears.

He mouthed an insult as he staggered, disorientated, his lungs instantly burning with hunger. Golden eyes darkened as they settled upon the Summer soldier, a length of conjured rope twisting in the air, ready to bind him. If he had the ability to speak right now, he'd commend his optimism, but Lorcan wouldn't come quietly.

He dropped to one knee, his weapons dissolving into wisps of shadow that fell lazily to the ground. Like snakes they slithered to meet the boots of the would-be captor, stopping the male in his tracks as he attempted to kick the shadows free. They only multiplied, coiling around his legs, climbing his body and tightening around his throat. His mouth opened instinctively, and the shadows invaded his mouth and dove down his throat, solidifying and smothering the cry he no doubt tried to make.

In his fight for breath, Lorcan forgot about the archers. At least until an arrow skewered his bicep. He couldn't throw out whatever expletives he tried to, he remained focused on holding his attack. The magic around Lorcan flickered, trickles of sound returned, small slivers of air pulled into his screaming lungs. He planted a hand on the sodden ground, his vision darkening at the edges as he watched the horror on the male's face the moment he realised that death had come to collect, until all at once he crumpled in a smoky plume of shadow, and air rushed back into Lorcan's chest.

Lorcan fell onto his back into the mud, choking on every greedy gulp. Someone else fell, and his head turned sharply to make sure it was not the one he'd come here to retrieve. Thankfully, Faolan still had some fight left in him. But, there was no time to celebrate. The air crackled with the promise of more danger, the oppressive rain now mingled with the acrid scent of blood and smoke. He threw up a hard wall of shadow to ward off another assault of arrows.

His eyes were black now, his mind giving way to the fury he felt. The wall of shadow surged toward the archers, obliterating everything in its path.

 

[Amaryllis]

At their reunion, when Lorcán revealed the truth about Titania’s conspiracies, the full extent of her sister’s schemes had been unravelled slowly, and piece by piece. Amaryllis simply stood frozen, unable to comprehend her sister’s betrayal. She trusted Lorcán without question, their bond unbreakable, but as reality sank in and she realised there were no misunderstandings, no mistaken intentions, her world had shattered.

The weight of Titania’s actions put a heavy burden on the delicate princess; every lie she had been told, all the words whispered behind her back resurfaced, and Amaryllis had to accept that none of it had been done out of love or concern, but deception.

Now, in the harsh light of the truth, the familial relations she’d once proudly represented were tainted by lies, but deeper still was the ache of her betrayal.

Could the bonds of family survive such deep hurt?

Anxiety was gnawing at her core, and a wound had festered at her heart – Amaryllis was depressed.

Since then, she’d been hesitant about contacting Faolan. Their bond lay dormant for years and she caught herself hovering over their connection several times, the familiar warmth of his presence just within reach. One thought, one pull at his heartstrings and she’d be within his mind again – but did he even want to hear her voice after all this time?

An ugly mix of longing and fear twisted inside of her, and Amaryllis spent all of her nights at the autumn court in sleepless agony. She wanted to reach out, bury herself in the safety of his voice, but the silence between them felt safer – and maybe less painful.

After all, Faolan was Titania’s Knight Captain, and not hers. What could he possibly have left for a forgettable princess such as herself?

After days of moping and wallowing in self-pity, the autumn prince couldn’t stand it anymore, and with Lorcán’s firm encouragement, Amaryllis had surrendered and finally reached out. Faolan’s response had been overwhelming and as soon as she realised that he wanted to see her again, the princess had, under tears, begged Lorcán to join her in a rescue mission (where he had to do most of the rescuing).

The outcome of this was now.

A large river marked the border between summer and the spring court, which represented neutral territory at this time and their only realistic chance at reuniting with Faolan. At Lorcán’s request Amaryllis had remained hidden behind the treeline and as the two men fought off the summer court’s soldiers, the severity of the situation dawned upon her.

Once again, Amaryllis stood frozen. The battlefield unfolded in front of her, and she could only watch in horror as both Faolan and Lorcán were injured in combat. Her hand instinctively moved to her shoulder, where Faolan had been struck with an arrow, and as she was reliving the pain alongside him, the absurdity of it all consumed her.

These were her soldiers. Precious members of her court, with honourable duties to fulfil and families that eagerly awaited their return. The more she thought about it, the less sense it made.

Is this what you wanted, sister? Were you not happy with how things were before?

At that moment, Amaryllis felt an emotion previously unknown to her: shame. Deeply troubled by the sight of others fighting her battles, and bleeding in her stead, the princess steadied herself and came to a decision.

Titania would stand trial for this.

Stage 2: Anger.

Summer hat sent plenty of reinforcements, clearly interested in keeping Faolan a prisoner in his own home, but Amaryllis was no longer having any of it. The sensation of raw, unforgiving rage was foreign to her, so for now she settled for irritation instead. She felt irritated that Faolan had been injured, irritated that Lorcán had to expend himself to such an extent, and irritated that the soldiers that were supposed to be under her command kept spawning and trying to keep her from reuniting with Faolan. Her Faolan.

Snuff them out at the source.

Cold resolve settled over her, Titania’s betrayal now stoking clarity alongside anger. A large flame engulfed her and carried her onto the battlefield in a split second. Amaryllis appeared behind the newly appointed Knight Captain, who merely stuttered at the sudden sight of her and failed to resist. She took him in for a moment, and upon recognising his garments as Faolan’s former attire, Amaryllis felt that itch of irritation again – and for the first time in her life, she acted on it.

“Imposter.”

Her hand found his throat, and fire erupted from his body, swallowing him up in a blinding blaze. His body crumbled to ashes shortly after, and only the Knight Captain’s garb remained perfectly intact. The sight was disturbing, but she’d re-think her actions and pay her respects later.

“This should scatter their forces,” she mumbled, more to herself than anyone, and swiftly lifted up the hem of her dress before running towards Faolan and Lorcán. Her eyes settled on the tracking bracelet, and Amaryllis furrowed her brows.

You can’t have that one, sister. That one is mine.

She sighed in exasperation, her patience worn thin as she faced yet another obstacle to keep her from returning Faolan to safety. With a flick of her wrist (and a lot magick), Amaryllis melted away the stupid bracelet until only its charred remnants were left.

Her eyes found Faolan’s immediately, and all those strange and alien emotions she’d felt earlier instantaneously evaporated.

He looked absolutely miserable. A worse condition than she’d ever seen him in, stripped off his rank and duty, with no home to return to and nobody to take care of his grumpy needs.

Her lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, emotion pooled in her eyes and Amaryllis burst into tears, gently holding his face in between her small hands. “Look at him,” she hiccuped, relief and heartache tinting her voice. She lovingly squished his cheeks, turning his face towards Lorcán so that the autumn prince may also have a look. “I have never seen him look so pitiful before,” she sobbed and began to caress his face, wiping off specks of dirt and blood. “Oh Faolan.” Amaryllis shook her head in disbelief.

The state of him broke her heart more than any sisterly betrayal ever could.

 

[Faolan]

“Don’t die.” At least Faolan had managed that much. Barely. He was panting, breathless as he whirled to see if Lorcan had managed to do the same. Of course, he had. Relieved, Faolan braced his hands on his knees and gulped for air. The wall of shadow hardened behind him and he craned his neck to see as it thrust outward. Shouts and cries were muted on the other side and the grass was streaked with blood in its wake.

Brutally efficient. He would have to remember that one.

Pissed didn’t suffice to describe Lorcan’s dark eyes and severe brow. Faolan hesitated. When he finally mastered himself, reassuring his frightened senses with memories of the beloved friend Amaryllis had spent so much time with, he positioned himself closer. Or, rather, he tried to. Whatever oomph Faolan had mustered for his final stand gave way to his exhaustion. He hit his knees in the rain. His vision smeared, colors streaking, and Lorcan’s dark, ominous form blurring.

He had to get up. Lorcan was injured now, but he’d come to save him. If he didn’t get up, if he didn’t find a way to get this bracelet off, he’d never see Amaryllis again.

His mind was playing tricks on him in his exhaustion, because he could have sworn he saw her running toward him. Faolan blinked, eyes blurry and rain pelting his face. It couldn’t be real. Amaryllis wasn’t here. Gods, was he dying? He was too tired to feel frightened by that possibility.

Then she touched him… and he felt it. Her gentle hands turned over his wrist. Another blaze of fiery pain he barely felt and the sudden lightness in his limb he did. His vision cleared to the sight of Amaryllis looking down at him.

Amaryllis.

Something inside of him snapped taut. Faolan’s eyes widened, clearing as reality burst into sudden focus. Small hands cupped his face and twilight eyes shimmered with tears.

“Look at him.” When she spoke, that tight thing inside him wound around his lungs, squeezing the air out of them. Amaryllis smooshed his face in her lovely warm hands. “I have never seen him look so pitiful before. Oh Faolan.” He couldn’t draw in a breath, so he looked up at her like the sight could sustain him. It could. He hesitantly lifted his hands to touch her arms, feeling that she was real. She was real. She was here. After everything he’d lost, she’d found him.

“Amaryllis,” he whispered hoarsely. He couldn’t find any of his usual wits to reply with something smart. Faolan was suddenly able to draw a breath and it came in ragged and harsh. His fingers weakly gripped her arms and he squeezed his eyes shut against the tears that rushed out of him.

Any help he’d been to his own rescue was now gone. Spent mentally and physically, Faolan sagged against Amaryllis and wept.

|| Lorcán • Amaryllis ||​

 

[Lorcán]

Lorcan's heart twisted as he watched Faolan collapse against Amaryllis, the sight of the proud Knight Captain reduced to tears igniting a firestorm of conflicting emotions within him. He was angry—angry at the situation, at Titania, at himself for feeling so helpless despite having fought to save Faolan.

The arrow lodged in his arm throbbed with an insistent pain. Ash wood. It burned through him, a searing agony that mirrored the rage clawing at his insides. He clenched his teeth, trying to temper his fury in the presence of Amaryllis, who was so vulnerable, so fragile in this moment of reunion.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, feeling the heat of the ash intensifying as he willed himself to stay composed. With a fierce motion, he grabbed the shaft of the arrow, determination coursing through him. He snapped it clean in two, the sound echoing like a thunderclap, and a wave of pain surged through him, grounding his anger in the reality of their predicament.

“Faolan, get up.” he said, his voice sharp and commanding. The urgency flared anew as he saw the Knight Captain crumple against Amaryllis, consumed by emotion. “We can’t stay here! If they catch us—”

He forced himself to take a breath, the weight of his fury colliding with the protective instinct surging for Amaryllis. “You'll have time for this later,” he said, his voice steadying despite the turmoil within. "We need to get you out of here.”

He stepped closer, his gaze fierce but filled with an underlying urgency. “This isn’t over. If we don’t move now, this has been pointless.” he said, reaching for the male with his good arm to pull him to his feet, and offer him support to walk. They leyline wasn't far.

 

[Amaryllis]

When Faolan slumped against her, Amaryllis composed herself and guided him into an embrace. His breathing was ragged and his eyes teary and dull. Every scar and bruise on his body told the stories of all the battles he had fought to return to her side – and how it had cost him everything.

The former Knight Captain was a mere shadow of his old self. He lost his valour to grief and he suffered the consequences of Amaryllis’ absence more than anyone else had in those three years.

How had he allowed himself to be worn down like this?

For a moment, Amaryllis drowned out the noise of battle and warfare and focused solely on Faolan’s shallow breaths. The princess tightened her grip, holding him close until their heartbeats aligned and she felt the steady rise and fall of his chest.

At his miserable sight, a fierce protectiveness had risen in her, mingled with frustration and regret. Faolan had always been the one to bear the weight of everything and right now, when she wanted to hold that weight herself and make it even a little easier for him, she simply could not. At this realisation shame surged through Amaryllis and she began to wonder what she did to deserve these two.

All of this could have been avoided if only she had seen through Titania’s lies, but like everyone else the summer princess had been blind and oblivious to what was happening in her own court and under her very nose.

“Forgive me, Faolan.” Her words were spoken quietly and her apology came with no small amount of remorse. “I never meant for you to go this far for me. I thought that this peace would last, and that you could simply stay at my side forever. I was wrong,” she paused and pushed a strand of his reddish-brown hair out of his face. “..about many things.”

At Lorcán’s words, Amaryllis' touch became a little more urgent and she pulled Faolan up, willing him to hold on just a little longer. “He’s right, we must go now.”

She had purposefully ignored looking at Lorcán, uncertain how much more of this she could bear. He was gravely injured and an ash arrow – a deadly weapon to any fae – was lodged deeply in his arm. All of this made Amaryllis feel a lot, and most of it was new and overwhelming.

I’ll make this right, she reassured Lorcán through their bond. I promise you, I’ll make this right.

The princess raised her head, hazel eyes catching fire in the bright evening sun.

As Amaryllis called upon her ancient powers, a heat wave swept across the battlefield, earth trembling beneath them as scorching flames erupted at her feet, travelling towards the summer court soldiers and roaring upwards into a wall of wildfire. Their enemies halted, surprise flickering across their faces at the rare display of ability from their princess, who was not at all known for being a fighter. At this, the Princess of Twilight could only scoff.

If war came for summer, it would come during the long night.

And it would last for as long as she was able to sustain it.

 

[Faolan]

Forgive me, Faolan.

A line of worry creased his brow. He had long ago promised his life to hers, sworn to serve and protect her, always. Did she think he had not meant it? Was that promise not worth every drop of blood, sweat, and magick he had?

“Amaryllis,” he began quietly.

Lorcan’s sharp words jostled him, and he looked up at the prince with watery eyes. He was right. He’d bought them time, but that time was useless if he couldn’t stand, if he couldn’t walk. Faolan looked up at Amaryllis, needing the reassurance that she hadn't disappeared in the moments he'd looked away, then nodded in acknowledgement. They would have more time than this.

Leaning into Lorcan’s strength, he stood and they began to move toward the ley line. Amaryllis’ hand was firmly in his. He might have been exhausted, but he could still manage to cling to her ha—

She pulled away. He opened his mouth to caution her, to tell Lorcán to drop him and save her, when she threw her hands forward. Heat erupted. A wall of flames blazed skyward, sufficiently blocking the soldiers an preventing them from pursuing. When Amaryllis turned, the firelight silhouetted her. She glowed like Shaevwa, but her face was set in a familiar expression. It was the same stubborn look she got when she dug in and prepared to fight. The Princess was a gentle spirit, but she had the heat of the House of the Phoenix burning inside her. Tonight, however, it looked different – sharper. Something had changed.

He would have a lot to say about this later, but he was relieved to see her following them once again and they hustled onward. They were getting closer to the ley line; even Faolan could feel its strength calling to them through the ground.

 

[Lorcán]

Lorcan froze as he watched Amaryllis turn back, her fury directed toward the approaching Summer soldiers. His dark eyes were blown wide, transfixed by the fire that erupted from her, a fierce wall of flames surging skyward, scorching the ground in its wake. She’d always been so soft, so quiet and delicate a creature, but now, standing amidst the blaze, she looked as if she’d been born of it. Power poured off her in waves, revealing the strength that she had always kept hidden. And in that moment, he glimpsed just how deeply she must have been hurt, how betrayed she felt to wield this power against her own court, and his chest ached.

He could see it in the tight set of her jaw, in the determination flaring in her eyes. She was all fire and fury now, the weight of her court’s treachery heavy upon her heart, and yet she had chosen to bear it, to burn for those she loved.

“Ama…” His voice came softly, barely more than a whisper, yet it carried through the crackling of the flames. He reached out, ignoring the agony radiating from his injured arm, feeling an overwhelming need to pull her back to him, to ground her before she lost herself to the blaze. “Ama,” he repeated, gentler this time, as if any louder word might shatter her. “Let’s go.”

She’d unleashed her wrath on her own kin, and Lorcan could feel the conflict storming behind her eyes—the quiet Amaryllis who’d once held no violence in her heart now waging a war against those who’d betrayed her.

They turned, moving toward the ley line, Faolan still leaning heavily on him. The air around them thickened, warping and shimmering as they approached the border, the leyline’s power thrumming beneath them, promising safety just a breath away. In one final surge, they crossed together, the ley sweeping them from the Summer Court to the sanctuary of Autumn.

 

[Amaryllis]

The screams of the wounded were barely audible from where they stood; desperate cries were swallowed up by the blazing fires of her magic. Amaryllis had lived over a thousand years without killing a single creation of the goddess, and it was with weary eyes that she watched it all go up in flames in just one day.

She had been an utter fool for thinking that she could overshadow the cold truth with warmth and kindness, that she could smile away Titania’s thirst for power and compensate for her brother’s cruelty simply by being good. It was never going to be enough, she was never going to be enough and the reality of this tore her apart inside out.

Amaryllis felt hollow, and when she watched the inferno incinerate the bare bones of the summer court soldiers from afar, all she could think about was Faolan, who had waited for three long years to hear her speak again, until she finally called out. Faolan, who came running through a sea of arrows and swords at her request. Faolan, who lost his rank and abandoned his family to be with an exiled princess.

And Lorcán, who’d become the target of her sister’s cruelty and a victim to her wickedness. Lorcán, who endured years of silence, nearly succumbed to the weight of his responsibilities and the sacrifices he had to make over and over again. And yet he had never stopped searching for her and when Amaryllis had been found, it was by him.

“Ama..”

Lorcán’s voice sliced through her trail of thoughts, pulling her back to the present. “Yes please,” she responded with a slow blink. Her voice was low and the princess suddenly seemed depleted. “I don’t know how much longer I can bear this,” she admitted quietly.

Amaryllis still managed half a smile for her former Knight Captain, who was being dragged towards the leyline by the two of them. “Endora is a beautiful place,” she told him. “You’ll like it there, I’m sure of it.”

After she had spoken those words the trio reached their destination and, through the magic of the ley, travelled from spring to autumn within a few moments. Amaryllis, who was fatigued but not on the verge of falling asleep, was spat out by the leyline rather unceremoniously. A wince escaped her, but she ignored the sharp pain in her hands and knees and sprang up, reaching for the ash arrow still lodged in Lorcán’s arm.

She hoped to catch him off-guard before he could protest, and although the weapon burned her too, Amaryllis’ magic was able to overpower it. It turned to ash momentarily, leaving behind a flesh wound on his arm and searing pain in her palm.

For some reason, the sensation of pain brought her an indescribable sense of relief.

“I think it’s best if we take him to my chambers, and I’ll do my best to take care of him.” Amaryllis didn’t want to burden Lorcán and the people of his court any more than she already had. She side-eyed Faolan, knowing better than anyone that he could make for a difficult patient.

Turning towards the autumn prince, Amaryllis made one final request. “But first, a word in private, please?”

 

[Faolan]

When at last their feet reached the ley, Faolan fell into Lorcán and Ama’s magick like a child into a mother’s comforting embrace. His mind was as weary as his body, too worn to truly process what had happened. Not yet, at least. Relying on their strength to carry him to safety, Faolan rested. The ley was a warm stream of power, all colors and light and nothing at all as they zipped between toward the Autumn Court.

On the other side, Faolan wasn’t initially aware of their surroundings. He sat on the ground in a very undignified manner that he would be horrified about later. For the time being, he gave himself the patience to be tired and hurt. His mind spun, still reeling from between and struggling to ground himself back in material form. He wobbled precariously and was very, very slow to lift his head and open his eyes with any clarity.

Looking around, he still didn’t recognize where they were. Where had Amaryllis said they were going? Endora? Then this was where Lorcán had hidden his Court? It was such a highly guarded secret. Faolan’s mind cleared enough to recognize the trust he was given by simply being in this place. Titania would have killed men like Faolan a hundred times over to know the location of this refuge.

He had enough wits to think that it was a very beautiful place. He was very glad Titania did not know where it was.

Amaryllis was talking. He turned his head, the movement lethargic, and his brain sluggishly caught up to the words she’d spoken. Her rooms? How long had she been here? Something sharp pierced his chest. When Faolan looked down, however, he was unharmed. He clutched his shirt over his heart, frowning as he tried to analyze what he was feeling. It was too complicated for right now. He shook his head and looked up at Amaryllis and Lorcán.

“I will wait for you here,” he offered with a note of confidence and a heavy slur. He waved his hand, a twinge of pain making him wince and reminding him of the arrow still lodged in his shoulder. Faolan looked down at his hands, his clothes, and the blood, mud, and water slowly pooling around him.

“Oh," he murmured. "I've made a terrible mess." Then, he lost his flagging grasp on consciousness and slumped over.

 

[Lorcán]

The ley spat them out just feet from the courtyard of Lorcán’s home, and for a split second, the breathtaking view from the Orchard seemed to soften his tension. Nestled halfway up the tallest peak of Endora, with the Azure lake reflecting starlight far below and the distant hum of Silver Forest on the breeze, it was as close to a paradise as any place could be. In the air lingered the gentle perfume of citrus and honeysuckle from the fruit trees that surrounded them. The smell of home.

But any sense of calm disappeared as Amaryllis reached for the ash arrow embedded in his arm. The moment her fingers brushed the wound, he sucked in a breath through clenched teeth, feeling the sting of his flesh as the arrow dissolved into ash. He shot her a glare, his voice sharp with reproach as his hand slammed against the wound. “Really, Ama? I’d have handled it in my own time..” he grit out stubbornly through his clenched teeth, his eyes on her hand.

Lorcán ran his hand down his arm, his jaw tight as he watched her quietly tuck away her pain. For all her bravery, he knew she felt hollow, and though her gaze was steady, he could see the exhaustion of it all in her eyes. A sigh tumbled out in apology, his expression softening.

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you need,” he replied gently, his gaze shifting from Ama to Faolan as he slumped over in an undignified heap on the ground. Lorcán knelt down beside him, reaching out as though to steady him, even in sleep, before looking up at Amaryllis with a short nod. With impeccable timing as always, a male and female puca glided down the steps, concern written on their faces as their eyes scanned the three of them.

"Take him to the Princess' chambers, please?" he gestured to Ama, and both did so at once.

He reached to settle his hands on Ama's arms, looking her over with a gentle frown. "Are you alright?"

 

[Amaryllis]

Urgency laced Lorcán’s words as he instructed two puca to assist in getting Faolan to Amaryllis’ chambers. The former Knight Captain had succumbed to exhaustion and collapsed into the steady hold of the autumn prince.

Amaryllis simply stood by, silently watching as a small whirlwind of emotion began to stir inside of her. The sight of her two closest and most cherished companions in such a state caused her heart to ache and a hollow sensation of pain and dread welled up in her chest. Anxiety blossomed, but there was also a fragile sense of peace alongside flickers of happiness and relief—Faolan was safe.

The princess exhaled deeply and the knot in her chest loosened, albeit only a little, before she turned to Lorcán’s servants and bowed in gratitude. “I am in your debt,” she spoke quietly with a small, but genuine smile. Amaryllis had already had the honour of enjoying these two’s kindness and helping hands and she was glad that Lorcán had such good people around him.

“I will be with you in a moment,” the princess whispered into the mind of her knight, uncertain if he could still hear her. Her gaze lingered on Faolan and the two puca until they disappeared into the Orchard. Her thoughts drifted off, almost getting tangled up in memories again, when a warm hand settled on her arm. Lorcán’s touch grounded her and Amaryllis lifted her head to meet his eyes. “No,” the princess admitted in quiet defeat. “I'm not okay. I think today is the worst day of my life, having to do what I did.”

Amaryllis looked empty, as if something vital had been drained and taken from her. Her eyes held unspeakable agony, hazel irises swallowing up the light of Endora’s warm afternoon sun and reflecting nothing but darkness. “But I could not stand the thought of living in a world where he does not exist, so I would do it again.”

It was a sudden confession, the gravity of its meaning likely going over her own head in that moment. Amaryllis was simply glad to have Faolan back and although the road would be all but easy from here on, it was at the very least a start. A reunion. “You saved him, and thus both of us, today. For that, I have nothing to give but my own life.” Knowing Lorcán would hate to hear her say those things, the brunette leaned into her friend and, with a gentle embrace, conveyed what words alone could never possibly capture. “Thank you for always keeping your promises,” she said to him, her voice now small and trembling. “I will never forget this.”

When Amaryllis pulled away after a moment, the princess’ eyes glimmered with unshed tears. A deep breath steadied her and she forced a smile, swallowing the emotion that had nearly broken through. “I’m going to tend to Faolan, and also speak to him about what he knows about my sister’s movements. I’m sure his knowledge will prove useful in this war.” Apart from being her personal warden, Faolan had been a member of Titania’s royal guard for centuries – no doubt he’d know something.

Amaryllis dreaded having his conversation with Faolan, for it would be difficult and full of unwanted truths. The princess took a step towards the stairs and offered Lorcán a polite little bow.

“Until then, please give us a few days.”

 

[Lorcán]

Lorcan’s throat tightened as he watched Amaryllis, her pain laid bare in the sunlight that dappled across her worn features. For a moment, the prince couldn’t breathe; the weight of what they had all endured sat heavy on his chest, tightening like an iron vice.

“I understand,” he said, voice low and rough with emotion as his arms wrapped gently around her. He hoped she saw the sincerity etched into every line of his face, the way his dark eyes reflected the depth of his understanding. In that instant, he thought of Maeve—her laughter echoing in the halls, the warmth of her hand in his, the way he had been consumed by the mere possibility of losing her. The darkness he had fought to keep at bay stirred within, swirling like a storm at the mere notion.

Lorcan let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. "You've given me more than you know. There is no debt here." he chided quietly, softer this time, the edges of his voice frayed but steady.

He took a moment to commit this fragile reprieve to memory: the sunlight warming their skin, the faint hum of the island, and the sight of Amaryllis standing before him, exhausted but alive. The prince’s gaze swept to the horizon for a moment, catching the outline of the Silver Forest in the distance. It was strange how the serenity of Endora could remain untouched despite the chaos that had just transpired.

The weight of the coming days pressed against him, the war that loomed like a shadow across their path. His eyes shifted back to her, dark and resolute. “You have all the time you need.”

He reached out one last time, squeezing her shoulder with the briefest touch before stepping back. “I should find Mae. Go, rest, tend to Faolan, and gather your strength. I’ll ensure you have everything you need."

 

[Amaryllis]

He heard her in silence and reserve—a constant in her everlasting chaos. In return, Amaryllis saw the weight Lorcán carried but rarely spoke of and the clarity that lay between them removed the need for masks and explanations, for they simply understood.

Her gaze drifted from the autumn prince towards the realm he ruled over and Amaryllis realised that its warmth had become another constant in her life, a sanctuary she now called home. A small wish blossomed in her heart – it was the hope that Endora could one day become Faolan’s home too.

They bid their farewells and where Lorcán no doubt made haste to meet his mate, a quiet Amaryllis slowly walked through the corridors of the Orchard until she came to a halt in front of her chambers. The two puca who had so kindly assisted them earlier informed her that Faolan’s attire had been changed and the red-haired fae had been put to sleep in her bedroom.

The brunette thanked them and hushed inside, carefully closing the door so as to not make a sound. Faolan had fallen into a deep slumber and Amaryllis began tending to his wounds. The puca had left her several wash cloths, warm water and ointments to ease his bearings and heal his injuries and while she worked, she avoided looking at his face.

Amaryllis felt complete with Faolan at her side, but there was an inner conflict brewing inside of her with a mixture of feelings she found difficult to sort out. Her memories were still a little hazy, but no longer forgotten and a part of her was fearful of Faolan’s reaction now that he could gather his thoughts and challenge her for answers. There was even a hint of awkwardness thinking back to that fateful night and although it was not like her to be deceitful, Amaryllis convinced herself that it was for his benefit if she continued her pretence.

He still slept when she wiped sweat and grime off his face, combed his hair and gently held his cheek, fingers brushing over his pale lips ever so slightly. In her heart, Amaryllis felt a selfish desire bloom: the deep wish to have Faolan entirely to herself and completely unburdened by the events and happenings of the past. She wanted to relive a moment of normalcy, through and with him.

With a heavy sigh, Amaryllis put her hand into his, silently marvelling at the small, intricate lines across and around their pinky fingers that symbolised their bond.

He’s probably going to sleep for a while, she thought to herself, rationalising that any fae who had taken an ashen arrow to the shoulder (or elsewhere) needed plenty of sleep to speed up their recovery. Fatigue was now gnawing at her as well, and knowing that this would be the first night in many that Amaryllis would be able to sleep through, the princess lay down beside her knight guard, her hand still in his, and drifted off.

 

[Faolan]

The flame was hot. He was too close; it was burning him and he couldn't pull away from the heat he wasn’t made to withstand. His edges darkened and curled, scorched, and then his whole body was enveloped as the flame swallowed him.

Faolan's brows pinched together as he roused. Warm sunlight kissed his cheeks and eyes, and he raised his hand to block the light. A deep, throbbing ache radiating from deep within his shoulder was almost as unbearable as the light and the discomfort of both drew him further from sleep.

Wherever they were, the sun shone differently. Beams of light poured through tall windows. Trees turned vermillion and gold on the other side of the smooth panes rustled on a breeze against a pale blue sky. His vision adjusted but his mind was still sluggish. This wasn't his room. He'd been fleeing the Summer Court. He had been racing to the river, toward a rendezvous point.

The flash of the flare. The sting of steel and ash. The heat of the flame.

Adrenaline skittered down his spine. He clutched at the sheets, squeezed his eyes shut, and pulled in a steadying breath. Waiting for his pulse to level out and his mind fully caught up to the present, he focused on his other senses. Something was in his other hand and someone was asleep beside him, but he didn't need to open his eyes to see who. She was breathing in a slow, familiar pace that assured him that she was fast asleep. A scent as smooth as jasmine and peonies, and the earthy spice of cinnamon confirmed it. His breath caught in his throat. He fought to keep his eyes closed until he was breathing evenly once more, and only then allowed himself to look at Amaryllis.

His heart lurched and he exhaled a long, trembling breath. Needing a job to help put himself at ease, he made a quick visual assessment of her condition. The princess appeared to be in good health. Her nails were clean and neat. Her hair was shiny and tidy. There was warmth in her complexion. No outward signs of harm marked her in any way.

“Amaryllis,” he whispered, his voice laced with hope and worry. He shouldn’t wake her, but he needed to. Impropriety be damned. He dared to reach out and brush his fingers against her shoulder. She was solid, warm, real. Tears pricked his eyes. “Amaryllis.”

 

[Amaryllis]

Her slumber fell short and her eyelids fluttered open to the sound of her name being called, soft but urgently.

Amaryllis.

A nudge to her shoulder along with his voice breaking the silence were enough to stir her from sleep. A moment passed, and Amaryllis could now clearly feel the weight of Faolan’s distress, and the anguish in his tone.

“There there,” she whispered, sitting up and leaning toward him before pulling her former knight into an embrace. Her thumb gently wiped away his tears before she tucked him against her chest, cradling him in her arms until their breathing aligned.

Truth be told, Amaryllis didn’t have the words to make the situation any better for Faolan. While the princess felt relieved to see her closest ally alive and well, her mind was guilt-ridden, and uncertainty gnawed at her. She didn’t know the circumstances Faolan had found himself in after her… unexpected departure, and she didn’t know how much he knew about how they’d gotten to this point.

“Look at you,” she said, steadying him by the shoulders to get a better look at his condition. Her voice was gentle, and a smile curved her lips. “And please, there’s no need for tears,” she added, pinching his nose. “I’ll reinstate you as Knight Guard once everything is in order, and in the meantime, I’m sure Lórcan would be happy to offer you... a part-time occupation of some sorts,” her tone lightened, and she brushed a strand of orange hair from his face.

Faolan was injured. On top of that, he had lost his composure on the battlefield and made his distress visible to everyone around him. Amaryllis knew she couldn’t approach him the same way she had in the past without a proper assessment of his well-being and whether he was ready for what lay ahead.

And if he wasn’t, then so be it.

He had already spent the majority of his life devoted to her, and Amaryllis was done being his burden.

Faolan had always deserved much, much better than this anyways.