#Spring Court

[1800naveen]

Real life places I think that the Courts are based on

Spring Court: Scotland, obviously. Tamlin originates from the ballad of Tam Lin, a Scottish folklore story. And Scottish people have awesome accents, I'm jealous.

Summer Court: Either East Africa, West Africa, and/or the Caribbean. I'm East African myself so I'm biased and put that in there 😊.

Autumn Court: This is a tough one but I'm going with Germany.

Winter Court: Russia, like all that snow and winter, it just fits.

Dawn Court: Asia. Mainly South Asia and East Asia.

Day Court: Ancient Greece, because of the outfits and stuff. (SJM said that she sees Helion as Persian but I see him as a black guy).

Night Court: America. A shitty government with citizens they don't care for unless it's a place with a bunch of other rich people or privileged people.

If you think otherwise, share a comment or reblog with your idea!

[ignite-the-stars]

Imagine you're a farmer faerie in the Spring Court and your harvest depends on Tamlin having good sex in the magic cave.

[theladyspring]

pov : you live at the Spring Manor 🌿🪽

[loonylooly]

After like, waaay too long, i finally finished prythian fashion the second 🤭

Hope ya'll like them

[olenvasynyt]

i'd like to know your thoughts on how fae politics work in Prythian? like canon-wise? You seem like someone who could dissect ACOTAR worldbuilding. hope you have a good day! 🥰

Omg hi anon thanks for the question! I love thinking about fantasy poiltics and worldbuilding. I will say though, I might not be the best person to go to when discussing canon ACOTAR stuff lmao; when it comes to canon I'm like 😬ehhhhh😂😭 Besides the basics like the 7 High Lords and their powers as well as Rhysand's general relationship with the other Courts, we don't get a lot so we are left to fill in the pieces. And that's my favorite thing to do! Fill in peices, add or takes away pieces, saying fuck it and designing my own puzzle. Sooooo I am happy to share my headcanons that I come up with based off of logic as well as just vibes and "hey this would be cool".

Politics is a broad word but a few important details to discuss would be relationships, trade, gender roles, wealth disparity, and race. SO here's a little list of my ideas (and I do have a bit of a SJM critical rant so sorry lmao)

Race:

The lesser fae racism plays a "semi-significant" role in ACOTAR politics (I think it's lacking and only mentioned to give context to other stuff but whatever this is about headcanons). With what we see from Winter and Dawn in ACOWAR, I would say that these two Courts are the most accepting when it comes to the lesser fae. We have Kallias' diverse army as well as Thesan's Peregryn lover, who is the General of Dawn Court's army. Summer and Autumn are probably the most racist to the lesser fae, though Tarquin has been trying to make reforms in Summer. I feel like Spring was very bad when Tamlin's father was alive, but Tamlin made reforms when he became High Lord since we see lesser fae and High Fae alike during the Summer Solstice, the blue faerie came to Tamlin for help when he lost his wings, etc.

Relationships and Trade:

Autumn, Winter, Night, and Spring depending on the time are the most closed off from the rest of Prythian, which influences their relationships with the other courts. Autumn restricts the sale of smoekhounds outside of court, Night has their whole thing of being completely isolated from Prythian and only showing one side of themselves. Night Court very rarely gets goods outside of Night, which we see "often" in the series (SJM touches on it a bit but not much). And after UTM, Winter was careful in closing themselves off do to mistrust and attempting to heal.

There could be some courts that lead in tourism. Summer is the first one that comes to mind haha, and I feel like Day and Spring would be on that list too! Winter fae might travel to Autumn because the climate is warmer but also manageable, and the environment is so vibrant compared to Winter's cold white haha. The different Seasonal Court could have a burst of tourism on certain holidays: Spring could have a huge burst of tourism on Prythian's version of Valentine's Day and on the Spring Equinox, stuff like that.

It is so interesting to think about the trade agreements between the Courts and who has the most leverage when it comes to export / import. Autumn might have to most leverage since their main thing is produce (because of the harvest and all that), and Beron would probably love to use that to his advantage. Beron might restrict trade with certain courts based on pettiness and his dislike for their politics. Maybe he dislikes how Tarquin is supporting the lesser fae so he starts trade wars (huh sounds oddly familiar to a certain country's current leader...). Winter might have magic produce that can grow in the cold climate (I have a lot of headcanons for that) but maybe they depend on a lot of export since they might not be able to produce as much?

Day and Dawn's main product could be knowledge. Maybe it's common for fae to travel to these two courts for education, trade opportunities, medical assistance, etc. Dawn was described to be pretty unpopulated and with mostly small farming towns, so maybe Dawn isn't super wealthy compared to the other courts that produce tons are metals and gems and agriculture, but they make up for it with their knowledge and invention.

Gender Roles:

Gender and sexuality is almost impossible to talk about canonically because we genuinely don't get a ton...I feel like sexism might be common in Pyrthian due to the leaders being primarily male, but there's just this weird and annoying lack of...anything from a lot of the courts? Night is very sexist, given the treatment of females in the Hewn City, and same with Autumn. But Viviane played a role in the guard/army before, during, and after UTM, so it seems like females play important roles in politics in Winter. And same with Summer too because we see Cresseida kind of play important roles? She is Tarquin's close advisor, she's invloved in the army. There's this general sense of sexism that the main characters are trying to fight but also 🤷‍♀️ not really. Same with sexuality too, because Mor is hiding the fact that she's gay but we also see Tarquin and his male lover in an open relationship, Helion is very promiscuous and stereotypically bisexual. So how are the LGBTQ treated in Pyrthian besides this generic disappoval that's not really there for most of the time? It's really up to the discretion / imagination of the reader!😀😐

I went on a bit of a rant, I'm sorry about that 😂😭 I have a list of fun ACOTAR worldbuilding headcanons here, including primary exports for the different courts and stuff, and a list of lesser fae headcanons.

[jennastokesart]

🍁🦊~ Lord of Foxes ~ 🦊🍁

Updated

Felt like Little Luci needed some attention and a makeover. Couldn’t leave my favourite ACOTAR character with crusty old rendering, so he deserved an update.

This was the fanart that started it all not even a year ago. Oh how time flies 🍂

[pegasus-anarchy]

I have lots of memes still in my camera roll.

Tamlin remains unbothered.

[sirenpearldust]

Found you 2

Baby Daddy Azriel!

Series masterlist ⋆ Part one ⋆ Part three

Pair: Azriel x Spring Court! Reader

Word count: 3.050

Warning: fluff

Summary: conditions are set

Azriel sat up straighter in his seat, he cleaned up, looked more put together. He wanted to make a better impression on his son than last time. The memory of his terrified face hasn’t left him, it has been haunting his dreams. Just the reminder unsettled him. 

A hint of nervousness crept in, what if one misstep meant he wouldn’t be allowed to see his son again?

Meanwhile, you watched him as he sat across from you, dressed in black pants and a blouse that accentuated every defined muscle he had honed through years of training in the illyrian camps.

His piercing hazel eyes wandered intensely as he surveyed the room. Until they locked onto you, sharp and unyielding. His knuckles repeatedly tightened until they turned white before he forced himself to let go. Black massive wings folded tightly against his back, his shadows swirling around him, still inspecting the unfamiliar space. 

Instead of his usual cold, detached demeanor, irritation flickered across his features. 

That’s a first, you thought. 

For once, he wasn’t emotionless.

For once, he was unraveling and it was because of you.

You had to hand it to his genes, you had basically birthed his twin. Amias was the spitting image of him, inheriting the same elegant planes of his face, a beauty that was almost otherworldly. He had his hair, his wings and even his skin tone.  The only feature that set him apart were his eyes. Those were yours, a striking reminder of your Spring Court legacy shining through.

You still remembered the sadness, the ache in your chest as you watched your son grow into the features of his father. 

The same scowl, the same smile, the same dimples. 

It felt like a cruel twist of fate that your son had to look so much like the man who had caused you so much pain.

Sipping your tea, you deliberately avoided his gaze, focusing instead on the view outside.               He didn’t deserve an ounce of your attention, not anymore. 

You two were here for one reason and one reason only; to discuss Amias.                                        You had to push your feelings aside, no matter how difficult it was.

It hadn’t been part of your plan for Amias to get to know Azriel. He wasn’t supposed to find out about him, he was meant to be raised by you, away from any danger.

Azriel’s presence now posed a threat to your role as a parent and as a noble in Spring. His work was dangerous enough and his ties to the Inner Circle only added more risks. The already volatile situation in Spring was bad enough already. You didn’t need to be accused of treason or colluding with the enemy, you’ve already had enough problems.

“Are you going to sit there silent again and not say anything?” Azriel asked, his shadows darkening around him.

Your lip curled in a faint smile. It was almost amusing, holding something over him, having a semblance of power for once. You might have felt guilty for using your son in this way, but Amias didn’t even know his father, not really, not the way you did.

He had no idea of the darkness and cruelty Azriel was capable of.

“You’re too loud,” you said softly, setting your tea cup down. His wings bristled, and you could tell it had pissed him off.

“I’ll lay the conditions out for you,” you continued, calm and unwavering. 

“Be against even one of them and you’ll have no right to see my son.”

“Our son,” Azriel corrected, his jaw tightening as his knuckles turned white again. He knew, he knew you had set traps, and he wasn’t sure if he was prepared to navigate them.

“He’s my son too, Y/N,” Azriel said, frustration lacing his voice as his hand ran through his hair roughly.

“I only want what’s best for him.”

You ignored him. 

Without a glance in his direction, you opened the folder and slid the sheet in front of him, wordlessly demanding his attention to what truly mattered now.

The conditions were clear and non-negotiable. They were there to protect Amias and you.

1. You are not allowed to take Amias without my permission.

2. Wherever you go with him, you must inform me first.

3. He’s my heir and will receive his education in Spring.

4. He will not train in the Illyrian camps unless he is of age and wishes to do so.

5. You will have no authority over me as his mother.

6. You will be a present father unless he chooses not to see you.

7. Your highest priority is to protect him, cherish him and ensure his safety.

8. You will treat him with respect, kindness and love.

9. You will not arrange or force any marriage upon him.

10. You will not harm me, kill me, or order anyone else to do so in order to have Amias.

11. You will not inform your family of his existence without my permission.

12. You will protect Amias before anyone else, this includes you protecting and serving your High Lord or your mate.

13. You will protect what is mine and what is automatically our son’s legacy.

14. In the event of my death, you will safeguard his wealth, inheritance and well-being. No one shall touch it.

15. You will not take Amias out of Spring unless he is in grave danger, or I am dead.

16. If you choose to have any other children, you are to treat them the same as Amias.

17. Any woman you decide to stay in a relationship with and who is to get to know our son, you will introduce to me first.

18. In the case of a mating bond between us, you will not force it upon me and will let it go if I do not want it.

19. You will not disturb my private life, you will treat me with respect and courtesy.

Azriel rubbed his temples, clearly irritated. 

Most of the conditions were reasonable, but the restrictions on when and how he could see Amias gnawed at him. 

Why did you have to control every aspect? Why did you have to approve when and if he could spend time alone with his son, or when his family could know about his existence?

“Can I introduce him to my family?” Azriel asked, his voice tight with frustration.

“No,” you replied coldly, your gaze unwavering. You hated the Night Court, they were the reason for Spring’s ruin and had caused multiple issues in Prythian across almost every court.

“He has a cousin,” Azriel pressed.

“You and I have no living siblings,” you shot back.

Azriel’s temper flared. 

“Rhys has a son.”

“He’s your High Lord,” you responded flatly.

“He’s my brother.”

You sighed rolling your eyes. “Sure.”

“So can he see his cousin?”

“No!”

Azriel groaned in frustration, his patience running thin. 

“Will you ever allow any of this to be permissible?”

You shrugged, taking another sip of that damned tea, that Azriel now seemed to take a dislike to.

“You either accept the conditions and make this bargain, or you can say goodbye to the future you’ve imagined,” you said, your voice steady but firm.

Azriel sighed, knowing full well you were serious. 

“These conditions are set to protect Amias. He doesn’t know you and I won’t thrust him into your world directly.”

“What about condition 18?” Azriel asked, his voice tight,.

“What about it?” you responded, your gaze unwavering. 

“Will you reject it?”

“There is no bond,” you replied, your tone cold.

Azriel’s jaw clenched again, the tension rising in his chest. “If there is one, will you reject it?”

“Most likely.”

His heart twinged painfully and an uncomfortable feeling settled in his stomach, like a bad omen. He hoped he wasn’t your mate because if he was, you would let him suffer. He was sure of it especially after what had happened.

“You know I’ll go insane from a rejected mating bond.” 

You hummed in response, uncaring of the worry in his voice. 

“Let’s then hope it doesn’t happen,” you said, a sharp smile playing on your lips as you met his eyes.

Azriel’s wings shuddered as the weight of the situation settled in. He didn’t feel good about this, not one bit.

“Fine,” he said, his voice resigned, “I accept all 19 conditions.”

You smiled and extended your hand. He took it without hesitation, his rough, scarred hand engulfing yours. The touch brought a flood of memories, both beautiful and painful.

Azriel couldn’t help but notice the softness of your skin, a stark contrast to the calluses and scars that marked his own. 

In that brief moment, you both felt something, an electric jolt, a slight burning sensation. You felt the tattoo spreading under your chest, across your ribs. You were glad that you could hide it, no one had to know about what was happening.

Azriel’s breath caught. He opened his top, revealing the tattoo spreading underneath his pectorals. Tracing the lines with his fingers. You almost choked on your spit. What was he doing?

You quickly turned your face away, not wanting to see the sudden state of undress. It was nothing you hadn’t seen before, nothing you wanted to revisit, either.

In the brief glance you noticed something else, new scars. Some were fresh, still pink against his skin, while others had faded to white, stark against his tan.

“Roses,” Azriel murmured to himself.

“Now that we have a bargain, you can see him.”

You stood up, the white floral dress a stark contrast to Azriel’s dark attire.

Azriel was just a step behind you, he was eager to see his son. 

He wanted to teach Amias how to fly, how to fight, to show him the things a father should. He wasn't going to abandon him the way he had been. No, he would be present. He would be the father his son deserved, a steady presence in his life.

For the first time in his life he had hope for a bright future, he wants to build something better, to give Amias a future full of care, love and guidance. 

⋆ ♡ ⋆

Amias had been full of questions ever since he first met Azriel. His curiosity was boundless, he would comment on Azriel’s wings, marveling at how similar they were to his own. He spoke of the shadows, how they moved like his did.

Azriel’s shadows mingled with his own, twisting and swirling in a gentle dance and Amias couldn’t help but laugh whenever they played with him. They were soft and cool against his skin.

Azriel’s gaze softened when he heard his giggling. He felt this immense feeling seeing his son’s joy, feeling his happiness, hearing it, being a part of it.

He had come with presents - toys, books, sweets.  He bought him books, child stories from the night court, stories of Illyrian legends, a little teddy bear and a bag filled with small cherry candies, you know Azriel enjoyed. 

“Amias,” you called softly, lowering yourself to his level with open arms. He ran toward you, his little face lighting up as he kissed you on the cheek. You smiled, warmth flooding your chest as you gave him small kisses back, holding him close for a moment. You breathed him in, he smelled like a baby, you didn’t want him to grow up. He was already bigger than the other children his age. 

Azriel watched the scene from a few steps behind, it stirred up memories he had long forgotten, pushed away. It reminded him of his own rare moments of excitement as a child, the joy he’d felt in those fleeting times he was allowed to see his mother, when he was out of the cell.

He observed how animatedly Amias spoke to you, his small hands gesturing wildly as he recounted his latest “battle” with his plushies. Azriel couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, he was in awe as he took in the pure, unrestrained joy of your son, their son.

Amias’s eyes wandered up to him. He immediately recognized Azriel, but this time, instead of looking scared like before, he smiled at him.

He was taken aback by his reaction. His eyes immediately searched yours, knowing you had something to do with it, but you ignored him, focused on brushing Amias’s hair. 

It had grown long, already reaching his shoulders, he was in need of a new haircut.

Amias slowly slipped from your arms and stood in front of Azriel, his clothes a soft baby blue. His wings pressed tightly against his back and a shadow lingered at his feet. He stood there in awe, his eyes wide and round, smiling and giggling up at Azriel.

Azriel slowly lowered himself to Amias’s level. Even kneeling, his towering figure still loomed larger than both you and Amias. His sheer size stirred something hot inside you, something you’d buried long ago.

“Hello,” Azriel said softly.

Amias took a step back, looking at you for reassurance, as if searching for confirmation.

You smiled brightly, nodding and giving him the encouragement to go ahead. Amias turned toward Azriel again, his hands nervously fiddling. “Are you my daddy?”

Azriel’s breath hitched. There, standing in front of him, was his son, real and alive.

 “Yeah, I am.”

Amias took a step toward him, wrapping his small arms around Azriel and pressing his tiny head into his chest, sniffling. You and Azriel watched as Amias’s small hands clung to him. Without hesitation, Azriel held him close as he cried silently, his heart pounding in his chest. He sat on the floor, embracing him tightly, gently caressing his head, whispering apologies for not being there all this time.

That’s how the three of you spent the afternoon into the evening, watching Amias play, him eagerly dragging both of you into his games.

Yet, he was always a little nervous, always turning toward Azriel, as if he feared his father might disappear again.

You both sat on the floor next to each other.

“Thank you,” he said, watching you. Your eyes never leaving Amias.

“For what?” 

“For birthing, raising and loving him.”

“He’s my son. That’s a given.”

Azriel searched your eyes and this time, you didn’t look away. His gaze was soft and you hated the vulnerability in it.

“You know how they treat bastards.”

“We’re in spring,” you replied softly, making sure Amias wouldn’t overhear. 

“Bastards are a given. What do you think happens after Calanmai?”

He nodded, relieved that his son wouldn’t be ignored or left alone.

“Even if he is Illyrian?”

You laughed softly, a touch of amusement in your voice.

“Yes, even then.”

“They don’t care about that,” you said, your tone steady. “You’d know that if you picked up a book once in a while.”

Azriel winced at the jab, his eyes narrowing slightly. Here he thought you were finally opening up to him, but your words made it clear how you felt about him.

“Spring is inherently open,” you continued, “We accept everyone and everything. That’s why festivals like Calanmai exist and the land prospered with children, happy, healthy children. At least, before Amarantha came and your Lords, or shall I say your “brother” and his runaway whore”

Azriel’s jaw clenched, the urge to retort rising in him. He wanted to tell you that Tamlin had been warned, that he had continued despite it all, but he couldn’t. Your son was here and he shouldn’t witness his parents fighting. But god, the way your eyes burned with hatred whenever you looked at him or spoke about the Night Court, it stung.

“Daddy are you angry?”

Azriel noticed the worry in Amias’s face and immediately smiled, shaking his head. “Just tired.”

“Mama tired too,” Amias added.

You chuckled softly at his cuteness. 

You felt Azriels rage just a few seconds ago, you were thankful that he was still good at lying. You only cared about your son, Azriel’s feelings couldn’t interest you in the slightest.

“Amias, full sentences, please.”

“Mama, I am tired too.”

“You wanna go sleep with Daddy?” Azriel asked gently.

Amias nodded, his tiny arms stretching out toward Azriel. In his fathers arms, he stopped you from going to the office, where you usually spent your time.

You looked at him, noticing the expectant look in his eyes. “Can you both come?”

You nodded, glancing at Azriel. “You’ve got time, or do you need to go to work?”

Azriel smirked, scaring you. “I’m on vacation.”

The surprise was evident in your eyes as Azriel caught you off guard for the first time. Before you could respond, he scooped up Amias, who giggled in delight.

“Where is your room, little prince?” Azriel asked, holding his son up in the air with a grin.

Azriel’s smile was radiant and Amias looked so happy, it made your heart swell. Even if the reason behind it all was the sperm donor, the sight of your son so content made everything feel right.

“Let’s go,” Azriel said, his voice warm as he began to walk.

⋆ ♡ ⋆

There you three laid, Amias down in the middle, nestled safely between you both. 

Azriel had woken up, his internal clock honed over centuries stirring him from sleep. But as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, the sight before him felt almost unreal, like a dream he wasn’t ready to wake from.

His son was here and you.                                                                                                                 There you were, lying beside Amias, your long hair fanned out behind you, arms wrapped protectively around the small boy as he cuddled into you. It was endearing, the way you both slept so peacefully next to him. 

For the first time in what felt like forever, Azriel had slept through the night, no nightmares, no restlessness, just quiet, steady breaths filling the space around him.

His eyelids grew heavy again and he let himself sink back into the warmth of the mattress. Just as he was drifting off, Amias stirred, sleepily turning toward him. Tiny hands reached for him as he snuggled into Azriel’s chest, his breath soft and steady.

Azriel let out a slow breath, wrapping an arm around his son. 

And for the first time in a long, long time, he let himself rest again.

Main Taglist: @bubybubsters @lilah-asteria

Found you - Taglist: @bravo-delta-eccho @katherine-2007 @saltedcoffeescotch @the-onlyy-angie @sidthedollface2 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @asahinasstuff @azriels-human @ashjade19 @booksnwriting @starryhiraeth @anon1227 @1enas-12 @alittlelostalittlefound @queenoffeysand

[prettypinkkat]

The spring court

Its style is based off of ancient greece

Sex and nudity are treated as normal natural things

Casual nudity and public sex are often found in the spring court

Sex can be used in several ways such as a greeting , an apology , a way to calm someone down , entertainment and so much more

The energy of the spring court is naturally fertile and calming making anyone who enters it relaxed as soon as they step foot on its soil

Its for this reason that most peace conferences are held in the spring court for fights are very unlikely to break out there

Though because the spring court is inherently peaceful because of its aura it keeps itself away from the rest of the courts , quiet people not often coming in or out

And because of this the energy of thee court clings on to the people due to prolonged exposure without break so whenever a spring faerie enters a room there aura of calmness affects everyone else there

Also because of the fact that everything is constantly in bloom no one really has to work for anything so jobs aren't really a thing. The only time people work is on holidays when they need to send magic back into the land

They kidnapped children in the past , mainly abused kids or orphans and they would often be adopted by the fae or made into servants

They really like humans they view them a cute little things like rabbits or a cat , adorable and non threatening

Made deals with humans alot in the past , and the mark fo their deal making was really obvious be use everything got a burst of life to it , people randomly became pregnant , rats multiplied , flowers came back to life ect ect

The directions in the spring court will make no sense to anyone who isn't a native , some places can only be reached by climbing trees , some you have to stand and wait for it to appear and others you simply have to ask to be there

the places have strange names such as “the spring fields” and the “crystal lake” nothing is labeled and almost everything looks identical they just know which field is which

Your considered an adult after you turn one hundred untill then your a little baby child

Children are raised sperated from everyone else in the far fields of the spring court

Money just isn't a thing they don't understand it or why it's necessary

Marriage is literally just a title to show how much you love each other it's not an external commitment to them and it's not a sign you should stop sleeping with other people

Platonic marriages happen constantly and are seen as normal to them

Pt 2 _ pt 3

[silverflameataraxia]

The IC want to hate how Tamlin treated Feyre after she saved Prythian, but yet they treat Nesta even worse after she just saved all worlds. They hate Tamlin for locking Feyre up, but yet they did the same to Nesta. They hate Tamlin for ignoring Feyre's well-being, but yet they do the same thing to Nesta. They hate Tamlin for letting Feyre become withdrawn, but yet Nesta is in an even worse emotional state in HOFAS because of them than Feyre was in ACOMAF.

The Night Court is to Nesta what the Spring Court was to Feyre. At some point, the Court of Dreamers need to realize that they're Nesta's Court of Nightmares.

[cozy-brew]

something for people who miss spring :)

Source

[little-fireling]

Lucien, Tamlin, and Nesta are such beautifully flawed characters, and it goes over so many readers’ heads. Sigh.

[parcai]

wip. tamlin, high lord of the spring court + also loml but that's unrelated 💀🌻👍

tbh one of my fav characters. working on finding that balance btwn feral animal, shapeshifter spring court, + otherworldly faerie beauty. :) i know his mask should cover more of his face but i love his face too much to do that LOL

[azrielsshadows42]

Tamlin: I don't want Feyre to die

Tamlin: You don't want Feyre to die

Tamlin: So now we need to make sure that Feyre doesn't make Feyre die

Lucien: Fantastic plan, but have you fucking met her?

[lady-selenee]

Something I will never understand is how some people claim that Feyre destroying the Spring Court was some sort of girlboss moment.

Because it definitely wasn't. What she did caused instability and allowed Hybern to take control of the Spring Court.

And people say this was okay because of Tamlin? Forgetting that he's not the only one who suffered but also probably the majority of his court. Because I doubt that people weren't hurt when Hybern took over. And most of those people were innocent.

[achaotichuman]

The thing is, Tamlin should have the ability to grow any kind of plantation. He should be able to clench his fist and cause an entire forest to shoot up from the ground. He could snap his fingers and where there was once an army is now a rich, dense wood with bodies and scattered limbs spilling out from the roots.

And Eris should be able to cause decay, whatever he touches begins to wilt. He can reduce any life to rot. Wave his hand and entire Court's crops is gone. He should be able to clench his fist around an entire Kingdoms food supply and have self-proclaimed Gods wrapped around his finger.

Kallias should be able to reduce an entire land to a desolate wasteland of snow and ice with a single glance. If he raises his eyes to the sky the sun should be blotted out with darkness and the world should be reduced to freezing temperatures and sudden deadly frosts.

Tarquin should be able to entirely consume land with the sea. Taking a small puddle and turning it to a devasting flood. He should be able to drown entire Courts, and swallow islands and countries with a sweep of his arms.

Helion should be able to reduce a land to scorched earth, withering corpses. He should be capable of shining the sun down on a people and causing things to instantly turn to ash in the wind. With a single command an entire continent could be absolutely nothing but an empty corpse.

Rhysand should be able to drain the light from a kingdom, cursing them to eternal darkness. Leaving them in a kingdom wide blindness and watch as people slowly succumb to their own madness. On the battlefield, their sight is entirely taken and they die at the hands of their fellow men and weapons in blind panic.

I am not too sure about Dawn or Dusk's powers, since that is very much an inbetween. Someone figure that out for me.

But anyway, my point is, the power of the High lords should be directly tied to the magic flowing in their Courts. They should embody the very essence of their Courts, they should be raw, unstoppable power, with no one 'more powerful' than the others. They all balance each other out in some way.