Chapter One
She was falling. Fast.
Flowing locks of silver blocked her vision as if trying to reach the heavens from whence she once came. Aquila blinked against the glaring sun that seemed to threaten her with every passing metre with which land grew closer. Limbs like rocks weighed against her sides as she spread her arms in some vain hope they might slow her impact against the terrain below.
It was no use. It was inevitable.
The ground soared to meet her as the large mountain took shape, she twisted not wanting to see the impact she would make. Her two sets of white angelic wings tightened around her to cushion the fall as she could just make out an onyx obelisk atop the mountain she was careening towards.
The mountain shook as she made her entrance on this world with little more than her feathered wings and harsh rock to break the long fall. The wind was knocked out of her instantly as she lay curled within her wings hoping that hadn’t just truly happened.
-=********=-
The House of Wind was full of loud, heated conversation after the news of something crashing into Ramiel’s peak. Rhysand and Amren were concerned as to what this could have been to have caused such uproar within the Illyrian camps who had initially reported this disturbance. Azriel was hesitant of the dangers that could be posed and Cassian was on his side, as brothers are, but was more curious than the former. Nesta, however, felt as if this was a waste of time, some freak weather event or whatever the High Fae gods thought might be funny to ruin her night absorbed in a good romance.
Feyre, who had been silent this whole time, started with a scrunched forehead “What if we all went, leave Mor and Elain to watch Nyx and Velaris while we all check out the possibility that a catastrophe has just hit Ramiel.”
Rhysand inclined his head towards her and said “That sounds good, safer that way,” while Cassian quipped in “the more the merrier.”
After everyone had wrapped up warm and prepared for whatever might be waiting for them on Ramiel’s peak the group headed out into the harsh winters of the Night Court. Nesta and Cassian were winnowed by a less than happy Rhysand whilst Feyre, Amren and Azriel made their own way to the meeting place a few metres from the peak of Ramiel, in case any deadly surprises were lying in wait.
A short walk up the side of the mountain with wind whipping Nesta’s loose strands of hair into her face showed a small crater where whatever had fallen from the sky in some blazing glory which had Illyrian leaders asking for help, a miracle, had landed.
Cassian snorted “Some sort of oversized bird? Look at all those feathers”
Rhysand shook his head “No, it seems to be more like us… but not. Amren, any clue?”
The short fae shrugged “Looks like a different version of the people in the Dawn Court”
Azriel’s shadows had started towards the body curled in the centre of the crater to investigate before shortly flowing back to the Illyrian male to whisper the secrets untold. His eyes widened slightly before turning to Feyre and Rhysand who waited for the update, “It’s alive, but my shadows have little idea what it is either.”
At this the figure curled on the ground unfurled slightly to show a pale, seemingly High Fae female, clad in a thin white nightdress with silver hair framing her face as she glared up at them in confusion.
Everyone’s eyes widened in shock at the golden trickle that slid down her face from her hairline. Rhysand composed himself first to assume the arrogant swagger of the High Lord of the Night Court, hands in pockets to complete the look. He looked down at her, still curled with wings around her, with all the arrogance a High Fae male could conjure as he asked “So, what exactly are you? Lies will not be tolerated here.”
Nesta simply stared at her, realising her hair was a similar colour to the flames she produced and thought that something looked simply odd about her wings but chose not to interrupt Rhysand lest she be reprimanded again in front of strangers, now was not the time nor the place for any of that, they had to show a united front in the face of possible danger.
The female on the ground simply smiled at Rhysand’s statement and said in an accent foreign to all present, “That is none of your concern.”
Cassian scoffed at her, “You’re speaking to the High Lord of the Night Court, show some respect as you are in his territory.”
Waves of laughter overtook the female’s body, which reminded Nesta of the songbirds she would sometimes hear outside her manor, prior to being turned High Fae against her will a handful of years ago. Somehow this gave her the inkling that this female posed no threat but she was not prepared to voice that in front of everyone standing there.
Feyre was next up to question the being at the centre of the crater as she shrugged on the High Lady persona, much like Rhysand, and asked “You will answer, we will obliterate any threat to our court, without hesitation.”
The female nodded, finally controlling the laughter that had wracked her elegant body as she raised herself to her feet. She stood barefoot on the snow without a hint of discomfort. Nesta sensed a vague power emanating from her, not one she recognised. After rising to her full height, only slightly taller than Amren, her wings unfurled from around her and people were stunned to realise she had two pairs of stark white feathered wings, the bottom of which were slightly tinged in a purple hue, like some child had started trying to paint on them.
Amren muttered, “She definitely is not from the Dawn Court.”
Cassian echoed his agreement as Azriel said “I’ve never seen someone with two pairs of wings.”
The female mimed flipping her hair over her shoulder and smiled innocently, “full of surprises, hope I can live up to the excitement.”
Rhysand continued to glower at her but inched closer to Feyre at the reveal of the unheard of form of wings that this female sported, “State who you are now or we will consider you a threat.”
Echoing chuckles resounded from the small body, “I can assure you I am no threat, unless you give me reasons to be.” Nesta decided she liked this smaller female for being able to stand up to Rhysand for once in his life.
-=********=-
Aquila stared at the people before her who stood on the cracked lip of the crater that had formed from her ungraceful descent from above. A swift look down at her silk nightdress showed the occasional stain of dust and dirt from her landing site which did not come off with a poor attempt to brush it off without the people before her noticing.
At her slight movement she saw one of the male’s with leathery wings reach for a sword at his back and the movement gave way to a slight chuckle to herself at their fear and distrust just because she looked slightly different to others with feather wings in their world.
As she lifted her back up to the group she tried to plaster her face with innocence and asked, “Perhaps a change of clothes, I have come such a long way.”
The comment was met with a “The sky is truly a long way,” from one of the female’s who stood off to the side with neatly done hair on her head and a silver fire deep within her eyes. Aquila, who hadn’t really been previously listening, finally looked her straight in the eyes as she spotted those familiar silver flames and gasped, “You. It’s you.”
Everyone present had confused looks as Rhysand pressed her, “Explain. What is Nesta?”
“Nesta…” she rolled the name over her tongue as if trying it out, then said, “I guess this means I have places to be.”
The female next to Rhysand stopped her, “Oh no, you’re coming with us to the House of Wind where you will explain what you mean by all this as well as explaining who exactly you are.”
“And what you are” added the female with the black bob.
“Well then let's get going, better to start sooner than never.” She replied to them. The male with the blue siphons stepped towards her as the others around disappeared and she felt herself being dragged by shadows through space before finally arriving on a veranda of a beautiful house overlooking a city lit by starlight with a winding river cutting through the centre of it. A smile crept over her face at the serene beauty of it all before she was tugged into a spare room and sat on a chair with everyone surrounding her once again.
“Done with the cold air, decided to move the interrogation indoors?” she asked.
No one laughed. Too serious, she mused to herself. Again Rhysand moved towards her with renewed vigor at discovering her identity. They were determined and persistent, she could give them that to their credit. However, she had little care for their wants or needs as she came here with a purpose, a reason, and she wasn’t going to let these people get in the way of that.
“I’ll ask again, who are you and what do you want?” he pressed.
She smirked at him, “surely you’re bored of this back and forth by now. I have a purpose and I promise it doesn’t involve you personally.”
He raised an eyebrow at that, “It might not involve me personally but I still need to know since you dropped out of the sky and crash landed in my court.”
Aquila sighed, tiring of this quickly, “Look, I’ll cut you a deal. Let me shower and change from my crash landing as you put it and I’ll tell you who I am. Deal?”
He turned from her towards the female clad in a dress seemingly made of stars, twinkling and dancing at her beautifully, and her eyes went distant as almost having a silent conversation with the male. Finally, Rhysand turned back to her and flashed her a smirk of his own before calmly saying, “Deal. You can use the shower in the room next to this one.”
With that slight dismissal she slipped out of the room into the one next door to tell a well deserved shower, who knew how long it had been since her previous one. As the soft water cascaded around her, she reminisced in simpler times from before and what a momentous task lay before her and whether she would have the faith and devotion to accomplish it.
As the water cascaded she let it wash away her doubts, there was no room for them on this road. As the water cascaded she let it wash away her fears, they held no weight on her journey. As she stepped out of the water she was not only clean of the dirt on her body but also the fear and doubt that dirtied her mind before.
They had left a simple dress of lilac for her to wear and as she stepped into it she stepped into her responsibility for what would happen to this world now, this country, these people. She left the bathroom and went back to where everyone was waiting for her, patient yet expectant. As she stood before them she allowed some of her true self to shine through, which she had previously hidden out of habit.
A halo made of pure power sat atop her head as she did so and she watched as their faces looked up in shock, awe and confusion at what it could possibly mean. With a deep breath she finally uttered these words after 15 000 years and spoke with a clear yet firm voice, letting them see the truth within her pale eyes.
“I am Aquila, the scale of justice, the storm’s fury. I am Aquila, Goddess of Prythian.”