A Court of Scars and Steel (Completed)

Chapter 26 - Aelin

A/N Here's the chapter.  There's a viewpoint switch towards the end, be careful.

"Yes, I have figured out a way for you to go home," Aelin announced impatiently for the third time.

Beron and Tamlin mumbled and glared distrustfully. "Who's to say you won't sabotage us?"

Aelin gave a sickly sweet smile. "Why, I'm coming with you, of course. It would be my own doom if I were to sabotage you."

Beron snorted, "Just a better way for you to backstab us."

Aelin chose to wisely ignore that comment. "Now," she said, "Is everyone ready to go?"

All the High Lords nodded, along with the Night Court and Rowan, who despite her insistance would not let her leave without him coming too.

Feyre and Mor had found it sweet, and then they found that hair smells wonderful when it's on fire.

Anyways, Aelin slung her bag of weapons and armour over a shoulder. Drawing a dagger, she sliced her hand and quickly wrote out the marks for the portal on the forest floor.

The High Lords stared at her marks in curiosity, trying to memorize them, probably.

Soon, a glowing black nebula opened in front of them. Aelin patted her pocket with the three Wyrd Keys, looked around, and walking in, Rowan after her.

The black interspatial winds swirled around them. Suddenly a pinprick of light was opened, and Aelin was dumped back into Thesan's palace, along with all the High Lords and the Night Court.

Beron looked around and humphed. "Well, war strategy?"

Tamlin replied immediately, "Find out where their armies are and attack."

Rhysand smiled dryly. "In a nutshell." Tamlin glared.

Ughhh. It was a four hour strategy meeting. Sooooo boring. And the main battle strategy ended up like the one Tamlin outlined in the beginning.

Rhysand winnowed them all back to the Night Court. Azriel, who had winnowed off to check in with some of his spies, returned panting.

"Hybern's attacking the mortal lands," he gasped. Aelin glowered.

"More battle!" she said with false cheerfulness.

Rhysand frowned, "Cassian, ready the Illyrians. Az, alert the other High Lords. Mor, deal with your father and the Darkbringers. Everyone be ready in an hour."

The Night Court nodded. Aelin hastily double checked the forty something blades on her. Rowan did too, and they kissed briefly.

Amren made eye contact with Feyre and Aelin. Bidding a quick and unsuspicious goodbye to her mate, Aelin ducked into a room with the pair.

"Here's the plan," Amren said briskly. "No fighting until the battlefield is chaos, at which case we will sneak to the Cauldron and you two will perform the spell."

"No fighting?" Aelin complained, "I could single-handedly tip the scale."

Amren nodded. "I know that, but you need your power to solder the Wyrdkeys into the Cauldron."

Aelin sighed. "What about if I fight without magic?"

Amren harumphed. "Fine, but only because I know you're an assassin."

With that, we walked to back to the main group and Rhysand winnowed us to war.

Aelin only had one word to describe it with: h*ll. Without using her magic, she slashed, ducked, and twirled, over and over again.

Until, whether minutes, hours, or days since she started, Aelin felt Amren's magic summoning her.

She quickly disengaged, sprinting towards Feyre and Amren. Rowan, fighting behind her, gave her a quizical look.

She shrugged at him and continued running.

"Over there," Amren hissed, pointing to an outcroppping. "The Cauldron is hidden there."

Feyre and Aelin immediately started to run towards the rocks. The Cauldron was sitting there, so unassuming.

There was nobody guarding it.

Aelin slashed her palm as she ran, offering it to Feyre, who grabbed Aelin's cut palm with her own, placing it one the Wyrdkeys and the Cauldron.

And for the last time, she thought,

I am Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius, and I will not be afraid.

I am Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius, and I will never be afraid again.

The world started to fade as the women, bound together by love and sacrifice, let their magic flow towards the Cauldron in a steady stream, binding the Wyrdkeys in place.

Fighting echoed behind them in the real world. Distanly, Aelin felt a blade prick her neck, and a voice say, "Surrender," but she was entombed in a thick mist, that swirled around her, and her mind could not even sort the meaning of those words.

I felt my magic disappear, drained completely. Yet the Cauldron demanded more, and more.

Distantly, a blast echoed through the mist. A new power flowed towards them, dark and iron-like. It's life bound the Wyrdkeys to the Cauldron. "Don't give up," Amren's voice whispered.

Suddenly, Aelin's tenuous hold on the Wyrdkeys disappeared. Her magic was gone, her very soul drained.

Feyre turned to look at her through the mist, her very appearance being faded. "It's done."

And the world went black.

-- Third Person P.O.V. --

It was a trap. The moment the two women touched the Cauldron, many, many guards sprang out.

The little witch fought valiantly, but soon she was surrounded and a man had laid a blade on the throat of Mala's Heir.

The witch looked around, and darkness exploded from her. Part of it flowed into the Cauldron, using the witch's life essence to bind the Keys to the Cauldron.

All of the soldiers were killed where they stood.

The blast radiated outward, taking out over half of the Eldest Valg King's forces.

Then the witch released her hold on life with a sigh, knowing she had done what she had been meant to do since the day the gods saved her life.

A/N Don't worry, I won't be mean, there's an epilogue.