Chapter Text
The guilt weighed heavily on Azriel, Rhys, and Cassian as they crouched in the shadows, listening intently to the conversation unfolding inside the healer’s chambers. They hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but they couldn’t bear to leave, unable to escape the suffocating regret that clung to them all.
Lady Aurelia paced, her usually calm demeanor shattered by the worry clouding her eyes. Beside her, Lady Seren stood with a hand resting on Eris’s forehead, her face drawn with concern as she watched the young prince’s unconscious form. The flickering light of candles cast long shadows on the stone walls of the chamber, making everything feel even more oppressive.
"Madja," Lady Aurelia’s voice trembled slightly as she spoke to the healer, "is he going to be alright?"
The healer, Madja, was an elderly woman with hands that shook only slightly as she examined Eris. Her eyes were sharp with years of knowledge, and she didn’t mince words.
"He is strong," Madja said softly, her gaze flicking to the young prince’s pale face. "But he overexerted himself far too much. The fire, the heat—he’s exhausted himself in ways I can’t repair with the herbs and remedies available here. His body is already struggling to recover from the damage done."
The words struck like a physical blow to the three boys listening from outside the door. They exchanged glances, guilt mounting in their chests like a suffocating weight.
"It’s not something we are equipped to handle here in the Night Court," Madja continued, her voice low, almost apologetic. "We cannot risk further damage. He needs to be moved back to Autumn, where they have the resources to treat his internal burning properly."
Lady Aurelia nodded, her face tightening with a mixture of fear and concern. "When he wakes... if he wakes, we’ll move him at once."
The finality in her words made Rhys flinch. He had promised to keep Eris safe. He should have known. He should have known better than to let things get this far. His mind screamed with accusations, his guilt gnawing at him like a constant reminder of his failure.
Cassian, his posture stiff with distress, clenched his fists. Eris had been his friend, his ally . He had fought alongside him, trained with him. And yet, when Eris needed him most, he had let him go out alone, trusting he could handle the threat. He had stood by, watching, unable to help, letting Eris face that creature without their support. Cassian’s stomach twisted in knots. He should have done more. He should have done more.
Azriel’s guilt was the heaviest of all. His mind kept replaying the events of the day—his reckless insistence that Eris could handle the challenge, that he could prove his strength. His eyes had watched the battle from the edge, too paralyzed by his own fears and insecurities to step in when Eris needed him. He had known from the start that it was dangerous, but he’d pushed Eris into it anyway. And now, Eris was suffering for it.
"I… I led him into that," Azriel muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, though it felt like he was screaming inside. He couldn’t shake the image of Eris, exhausted, fighting alone, surrounded by flames and chaos. "I played with his life… all for a stupid game."
Rhys, who had been silent until now, reached out and placed a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. "We all share this guilt," he said softly, his voice raw with emotion. "But blaming ourselves isn’t going to change what happened."
Cassian nodded, though his jaw was clenched with frustration. "We let him down. I let him down."
Madja’s voice cut through the heavy silence once more. "He may not wake for a while, but when he does, you’ll need to get him to Autumn. Only there can he truly heal."
Azriel’s heart ached as the words echoed in his mind. Autumn—the one place Eris was supposed to be safe. A place where he should have been nurtured, not left to fight alone. His head lowered in defeat.
"We need to fix this," Rhys said, his tone firm, though the guilt in his eyes was undeniable. "Once Eris is well again, we will make this right."
Cassian’s voice trembled with emotion. "And we’ll make sure he never has to face anything like that again. I swear it."
Azriel swallowed hard, his voice tight with regret. "I just… I don’t know how to make it right."
Rhys gave his brother a meaningful look, his eyes hardening with resolve. "We’ll find a way. But we need to focus on getting Eris back to Autumn, where he belongs, where he can recover."
The guilt would remain with them, but in that moment, the only thing that mattered was helping Eris—making sure he woke, making sure he recovered, and, above all, making sure he knew that they would never make the same mistake again.
The atmosphere in the main sitting room was thick with shame and guilt, a heavy silence hanging in the air as Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel sat together. Each was lost in his own thoughts, brooding over the events that had unfolded, each one struggling with his own part in what had happened to Eris.
Cassian sat with his head in his hands, his normally confident posture crumbled. He had called Eris a friend, someone he fought alongside and respected, yet when Eris had needed him most, he had let him face that battle alone. He had been too focused on the plan, too confident in Eris’s strength, and now his friend was lying unconscious and hurt.
"I should have been there," Cassian muttered bitterly, his voice rough with emotion. "I should have known better."
Rhys, sitting stiffly beside him, clenched his jaw. He couldn’t escape the crushing weight of responsibility. As the heir to the Night Court, it was his duty to care for the future, to protect those in his court, and to ensure their safety. He had failed his mother, his people, and most painfully, Eris. He had been too passive, too complacent.
"I’ve failed him," Rhys whispered, his voice heavy with self-loathing. "I should have seen this coming. As the heir, it’s my job to keep this court safe. But I didn’t. I failed my court, my family… everyone."
Azriel sat in silence, his mind racing with a whirlwind of guilt. He had been the one to push Eris into that dangerous situation. He had been the one who led him into the path of danger, who stood there helplessly while Eris fought alone, burning himself out.
"I did this," Azriel’s voice broke, barely audible, but it carried the full weight of his regret. "I led him into danger. I let it happen."
The door to the sitting room slammed open, and Nesta stormed in, her eyes red from crying, fury radiating off of her. Her gaze immediately fixed on the three of them, and her voice was a sharp, bitter lash.
"How could you idiots let this happen?" she shouted, her voice cracking with frustration and anger. "Eris could have died out there! And for what? Because you three couldn’t get your heads out of your asses?"
The three boys winced at the fury in her voice, but none of them dared to speak. They were already ashamed, their guilt too raw to defend themselves.
Feyre entered quietly behind Nesta, her face pale, her eyes red and puffy from crying. She refused to meet anyone’s gaze, the anger in her expression barely veiled by the sadness that hung over her like a cloud.
"You think you’re so clever , don’t you?" Nesta continued, her voice rising in anger. "All this time, you’ve been playing some stupid game with Eris, thinking it was just a prank, just a joke! But look at where we are now!"
She took a few steps closer, her voice shaking but her anger still blazing. "You think the prophecy makes it okay? That you can just throw Eris’s life around like it doesn’t matter? That you can manipulate him for your own twisted games? You’ve ruined him !" Her eyes burned with the fire of her fury. "All of you, especially you , Azriel! You were the one who dragged him into this mess. You played with his life, and now look at him!"
Cassian, Rhys, and Azriel could only sit there, their eyes downcast, feeling the sting of her words like a whip across their backs. Nesta was right, and they knew it. They had failed Eris in the most unforgivable way.
Feyre’s voice, low but filled with anger, cut through the tension. "She’s right. You’ve all let him down."
Nesta’s fists clenched at her sides, her anger finally bubbling over. "I curse the prophecy! I curse it, and everything it’s done to Eris!" She took a step back, her breath ragged. "I wish Eris never had to suffer because of it. I wish none of this had ever happened."
And with that, Nesta turned on her heel, storming out of the room, her footsteps echoing in the silence that followed. Feyre lingered for a moment, her gaze filled with fury, before she too followed her sister out, her eyes never once meeting the three boys who were left in the wake of her anger.
The door slammed shut behind them, and the room fell back into that heavy silence. Cassian rubbed his face with his hands, and Rhys stared blankly at the ground, his mind a whirl of self-recrimination. Azriel, too, felt hollow, the weight of Nesta’s words sinking deeper into his chest.
They had failed Eris. And they had no idea how to begin making it right.
Azriel, Rhys, and Cassian moved swiftly down the hall toward Eris’s room, their hearts pounding with a mixture of anxiety and guilt. They had spent the last few hours stewing in their shame, but now, with Eris awake and aware of the aftermath of the battle, they knew they had to apologize. They needed to make it right—somehow.
But just as they reached the door to Eris’s chambers, Lady Seren appeared from around the corner, her stern face a clear warning.
“Stop right there,” Lady Seren said, her voice firm and cold, the unmistakable weight of authority in her words. She stood in front of them, blocking their path, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.
Azriel instinctively fell silent, the guilt in his chest only growing heavier as he realized that they weren’t welcome to enter. Rhys and Cassian, however, bristled with frustration.
“Mother,” Rhys began, his voice edged with impatience. “We just want to apologize to Eris. We need to—”
“No,” Lady Seren interrupted, her gaze sharp and unwavering as she leveled them with a glare that was enough to make even Rhys pause. She raised a hand, silencing him with an almost invisible, yet unspoken force. “You’ve done enough.”
Cassian took a step forward, his fists clenched, frustration bubbling to the surface. “What do you mean, ‘enough’?” he asked, his voice rising slightly. “Eris is our responsibility. We—”
Lady Seren’s gaze turned icy, her eyes narrowing as she raised her hand again, effectively cutting off any further argument. She didn’t need to raise her voice; her presence was enough to silence the three of them.
“I said,” Lady Seren’s voice was calm but tinged with a warning, “you’ve done enough.”
Azriel, still standing silently, could feel the weight of the tension hanging in the air. He wanted to speak, to apologize, but the words lodged in his throat. The guilt was suffocating, and Lady Seren’s harsh tone only made it worse. He could feel his entire body stiffening, wishing for the ground to swallow him up.
Lady Seren didn’t spare them a second longer. “Eris is not your concern right now,” she continued, her voice now quieter but no less commanding. “He needs peace, not your guilt or your apologies.”
She paused for a moment, as if weighing something in her mind, and then spoke again. “The Autumn Court is leaving tomorrow,” she said, her words heavy with finality. “There is nothing you can do for him right now except allow him to rest. And do not mistake this for me being merciful. You have put him in enough danger. Don’t make it worse by forcing him to hear your excuses.”
Rhys and Cassian exchanged uncomfortable glances, but neither said anything. They knew they couldn’t argue with Lady Seren—especially not after what had just happened.
“Come,” Lady Seren continued, her tone softening just a touch as she turned her back on them, gesturing for them to follow her. “I’ll escort you away from his chambers. I’m not certain that Eris is safe here anymore. I’m debating letting Aurelia come next summer, to ensure he’s properly protected.”
The words hit Azriel like a blow. Lady Seren wasn’t just angry—she was worried . She didn’t trust that Eris was safe here in the Night Court anymore. The guilt swelled in Azriel’s chest, choking him as they all followed Lady Seren down the hall. He couldn’t shake the image of Eris, exhausted and vulnerable, lying in the arms of his mother after the battle. He had failed Eris, and now, Lady Seren was questioning whether they were even fit to look after him.
Rhys and Cassian walked quietly behind Lady Seren, both lost in their thoughts, but Azriel remained at the rear, feeling the weight of Lady Seren’s words like a constant reminder of his failure.
Azriel, Rhys, and Cassian stood in the shadow of the distant trees, watching from afar as the Autumn Court’s people prepared to leave. The docks were bustling with movement as members of the Autumn Court boarded their ship, heading back to the familiar, safe confines of their home. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the wooden planks of the dock.
Lady Seren and Lady Aurelia stood on the edge of the ship, exchanging heartfelt farewells. Their words were soft, but the gravity of their departure hung in the air. Lady Aurelia held Eris close, her arms wrapped around him tightly, as if she could shield him from the dangers of the world by holding him near. There was a tenderness in her embrace, a love that seemed to surpass the chaos of everything that had happened.
Azriel couldn’t look away as Lady Aurelia’s gaze shifted toward him, Rhys, and Cassian from across the dock. Her eyes flicked to Eris, her expression unreadable, before she gave one last squeeze to her son and turned toward the gangplank, preparing to board.
Eris, flanked by Nesta and Feyre, made his way slowly toward the ship. Nesta was supporting him, her presence protective and unwavering, while Feyre walked beside them, her eyes burning with a quiet fury that Azriel could feel even from a distance. Eris, however, moved with the same impassive expression he had worn ever since that fateful battle. The cold exterior that had been a shield for so long remained intact, but Azriel saw the faintest flicker of exhaustion in his eyes.
Rhys and Cassian exchanged a glance, each of them swallowing their guilt before stepping forward, their steps slow and heavy as they approached Eris, Nesta, and Feyre at the gangplank. They didn’t know what to say, but the apology had to be made. It was the only thing left.
Rhys spoke first, his voice low but filled with remorse. “Eris, I—”
“I don’t want to hear it,” Nesta snapped before he could finish, her voice sharp with frustration. “You’ve done enough damage.”
Eris didn’t respond. His eyes were distant, focused on the ship ahead, as if he were somewhere far away, untouchable. Feyre, standing beside Nesta, was still glaring at them with so much anger that Azriel could feel it cutting through the air.
Cassian opened his mouth to speak, but Nesta's glare silenced him. "Don’t bother," she hissed. "You had your chance. You all had your chance."
The words were a sharp sting, and Cassian looked down, his shoulders slumping in defeat. Rhys, too, remained quiet, his head bowed in shame. Both of them knew that no matter what they said, nothing would be enough to undo the damage.
Azriel, standing a few steps behind, felt like an intruder in this moment. They had been waiting for their chance to apologize, but now, in the presence of Eris’s family—of Nesta’s raw anger and Feyre’s quiet fury—he felt small. His chest tightened as he tried to find the words, but they wouldn’t come.
And so, as Rhys and Cassian turned and left in shame, Azriel was left standing there, unsure of what to do next. He wanted to apologize, to explain himself to Eris, to tell him how sorry he was, but the words remained stuck in his throat.
Just as Azriel began to turn, preparing to leave, he heard Eris’s voice—a soft, teasing challenge, but it hit Azriel like a lightning bolt.
“See you next summer, Shadowsinger," Eris called out, his tone playful but with a hint of something more, something deeper. "But I’ll win our little game next time.”
Azriel froze, his breath catching in his chest. He didn’t know what it meant, whether it was a joke or something more serious, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. The words rang through him, and he realized that Eris had broken his vow of silence. The teasing challenge, the return to their old dynamic—it was a sign.
Eris had forgiven him.
Azriel stood there, unable to move as he watched Nesta, Eris, and Feyre board the ship. His mind was spinning, emotions crashing through him in waves. He didn’t know if he deserved Eris’s forgiveness, but the fact that it was given—whether in jest or not—was enough to make his heart tighten with a mixture of relief and guilt.
He watched as the ship began to pull away from the dock, the figures of Eris, Nesta, and Feyre growing smaller with each passing moment. Azriel knew there was a long road ahead, one filled with more mistakes to be made and lessons to be learned, but for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he was grateful.
Grateful for the chance to make things right.
And grateful for the fact that Eris had forgiven him, even if it wasn’t in the way he’d imagined.
As Azriel stood on the dock, watching the ship carrying Eris, Nesta, and Feyre disappear into the distance, something inside him began to shift. The tension in his chest loosened, but it wasn’t entirely from relief. It was something deeper, a realization that had begun to form when Eris had spoken to him, even in jest, before boarding the ship.
Maybe Eris wasn't that bad, Azriel thought, watching the ripples of the water left in the ship’s wake. For so long, he had been haunted by the prophecy, by the idea that this bond between them—this shared destiny—was some kind of curse. That it was something forced upon them, a cruel twist of fate to bind them together in a way neither of them could control or escape.
But now, standing there, the truth started to become clear in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to see before. Maybe the prophecy wasn’t a curse at all. Maybe it wasn’t something to fear, to resent, to hide from. What if the bond it spoke of wasn’t about manipulation or suffering? What if it was about something else entirely? Something that didn’t have to be a burden, but a connection—one that could be turned into something stronger than either of them imagined.
Maybe Eris had a future beyond the anger and the curses. Maybe they both did.