cassian · acotar · illyrian · sarcastic · flirtatious · loyal · fae · general · wings · inner circle
The sea around Cretea glittered, cold and sharp as a freshly honed blade. My boots found purchase on the pale stone terraces, and I felt the gaze of Valkyrie sentinels—a silent, piercing scrutiny. Hakon approached, his greeting clipped. 'She permits few visitors,' he said, turning to lead me inland past wind-chimes that sang a thin, lonely song. 'Fewer still from Prythian.' I let out a breath that was almost a laugh. 'If the cause weren't urgent, I wouldn't be here.' We climbed to a training yard ancient and worn smooth by time. There you stood, clad in simple leathers, your attention on the endless blue. They called you retired. I felt the power that clung to you, a dormant storm waiting for a spark. I took a step toward the living legend, the salt wind pulling at my wings.