She woke up in her gravity-enslaved body. The ground clutched at her, refusing to give her up. After a night of gliding easily among the stars, it was mind-numbingly depressing.
Her body felt limp, her mind like it was trying to swim through thick mud. She felt for her reserves, and found dull grey embers where a roaring white fire should have been. She had burned through almost all of her magic last night. It would take at least two days to recover. She sighed in dismay.
Her magic wasn't the only thing that was missing. Her connection to Embrald was dim. She had relinquished her grip on his mind far away, once the sun had risen and the music and magic had ceased. Using the tenuous slim thread to her body she had reeled herself back in, burning through power like a fire through dry leaves.
Mellary cracked open one eyelid and pain shot through her brain. She closed her eyes with a groan.
"You are alive," Arya said next to her. Barely contained rage colored her voice. Mellary would have cringed if she could move her muscles.
"What happened?" She asked, her voice grating her own ears. She had been hung over once, and this was unbelievably worse. Someone had dropped a thousand marbles in her head, and they were rattling around inside her skull.
Despite the marbles, she sat up. Someone had wrapped her up in a blanket and slid one of the softer packs under her head.
"We need to talk elsewhere," The elf said, ignoring her question.
"I can't stand," Mellary said. Her arm flopped as she tried to move it, reaching for her pack. Arya reached past her and moved the pack to within her reach. Mellary weakly tugged her water skin out of her pack. Her thumb kept slipping from the top, but eventually she popped it off. She drained the skin dry.
She set the skin aside and pushed the blanket off. Her balance was completely gone; as she tried to stand she almost pitched forward onto her face. Mellary caught herself, her muscles growling in protest. She forced herself upright and almost overbalanced again. It was like she was horribly drunk.
Arya didn't offer her an arm to lean on. They moved slowly out of earshot of the rest of the group. Well, earshot if they had an intensely whispered conversation. It was as far as Mellary could go without collapsing. She stopped, leaning against a tree.
"Who are you?" Arya demanded.
"Excuse me?" The question caught her off guard.
"Who are you?"
"Why are you asking me this?"
"You just performed one of the rarest and most difficult spells in existence."
"I would not have had to if you hadn't messed up. I did what I had to in order to protect my dragon!" She was way too out of sorts to have this conversation now. This conversation required finesse. An army marching through her head was not conducive to finesse.
"You used the Wandering Soul."
Mellary had no response for that. There was no point in denying it; the Wandering Soul was a distinctive spell, impossible to mistake.
She had thrown away all her planning, scattered the ashes to the wind. She had used magic she wasn't supposed to have and demonstrated a comprehensive knowledge of the ancient language she wasn't supposed to know. On top of it all, she had a raging, inferno-like headache.
"What happened?" Arya demanded.
"I heard the Dagshelgr and I thought that it might be….prudent…. to put more distance between the dragons." Mellary said slowly, watching realization dawn. "I reached out for Embrald, but the distance was too great. I remembered the spell and I realized that if I used it, I would be able to reach him. I did what had to be done."
"What happened after?"
Mellary paused. "I found reached him, and his mind was in turmoil. I tried to shield him but… I don't know what happened," She admitted. "I ended up in control."
Arya's eyes snapped. "The hostile takeover of another conscious mind is forbidden," She almost snarled.
Embrald's presence flared on the edge of her consciousness. It was not hostile. From the look on Arya's face, Mellary knew she had heard the dragon as well. I allowed Mellary control, as I was too emotionally disturbed to focus on flying, and since she was so weak. Mellary bit back a comment about weakness.
Arya considered it. "It was still a foolhardy attempt." Her black eyes locked on onto Mellary's. "Do not risk yourself again. We will have need of both of you before this war is over. Still, how did you know the spell?" The question was a trap. The creator was an elf, and consequently her works had stayed in Ellesméra.
"The Scrolls of Elyse the Wanderer are rare." Mellary admitted. "The Varden have a copy. I discovered it in their library during my stay there." Arya's expression betrayed nothing, but Mellary was willing to believe that the elven scholars would not be happy to learn about the existence of the replicas.
Arya turned to leave. Mellary remembered something, calling the elf back.
"When I was flying, I saw something," She said in a low voice, her words circling around the two of them. "A line of torches, heading towards the forest. Someone is coming." She watched the elf's face go slightly paler. Arya nodded once and stalked away without another word.
Mellary sagged against the tree, her legs giving out. She lowered herself to the ground shakily. Arya hadn't pursued an answer to her first question, but Mellary would be a fool to think that it wouldn't come up again. All she had was a temporary reprieve.
I'm coming, Embrald said shortly, his voice sounding off. Mellary focused on him. He was approaching quickly, flying at his top speed. His mind was hidden, his barriers impenetrable.
Mellary turned her mind back to her conversation with Arya. Despite how little was said, it revealed entirely too much for her comfort. There were very few magic-workers that could read a complex spell and perform it perfectly the first time, much less under stressful circumstances without causing serious damage.
Assuming no serious damage had been done.
A human dragon Rider of four months should not have had that amount of power or training.
Embrald was drawing near to the campsite. Mellary pushed herself away from the tree, looking up to the canopy to greet her dragon.
The branches exploded downward as the dragon barreled past, fangs barred. He flared his wings as the last second, hitting the ground with a clap of thunder. His tail swept around, slamming her back into the tree. Mellary gasped as pain flared all along her spine and struggled against the band of iron holding her in place.
She looked up to find brilliant eyes glaring into hers.
Are you trying to get us both killed!? Embrald snarled at her, his rumbling growl filling the clearing.
No! Mellary shot back, refusing to back down even though her feet hovered several inches above the forest floor. I was trying to protect you!
I am a dragon! I don't need protection!
Against a physical threat, most likely not. But you don't have the experience necessary to protect your mind from magical influence!
So you decided to risk your life.
I couldn't reach you! If you weren't out of range, it wouldn't have been a problem!
Embrald sighed. I do not like it any more than you do. But we agreed that it was necessary considering the circumstances.
The circumstances changed, Mellary said. I know it was dangerous. I wouldn't have done if it I had not believed, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it was necessary. You know me. I don't do reckless things.
Yes you do.
Without good reason, Mellary amended with a smile. The expression in Embrald's eyes softened. His tail relaxed away from her, and Mellary dropped to the ground. Her knees trembled as she landed, and she sat down hard. Embrald curled up around her, and she leaned back against his sun-warmed scales.
I missed you.
I missed you too, Reckless One.
Her eyes closed against the growing exhaustion.
What was that? Embrald's tone revealed all the pent up, mixed up, and tangled emotions his words didn't. Pity filled her. She remembered the first time she had felt the influence of the song.
The Dagshelgr Invocation. She said. A yearly ritual where the elves sing to the forest, encouraging Du Weldenvarden to grow. They infuse everything with magic; no living thing is exempt from their song.
I see.
What did you feel? Mellayr asked, leaning forward so she could look him in the slit-pupiled eye.
My blood on fire, He said, closing his eyes. She waited, but no elaboration was forthcoming. The dragon remained silent, keeping his thoughts to himself.
I had many years of practice shielding my mind from the influence of the Dagshelgr, Mellary murmured. I had it down to an art.
I noticed; that was a very precise shield. He paused. Why?
Mellary was quiet as she mulled over the question. It was a reminder that I was alone, She said finally. Very, very alone. Embrald snaked his head around and pressed the tip of his nose against her forehead. Mellary reached up and hugged him.
Someone shouted her name. She disengaged with a sigh, grabbing one of Embrald's neck spikes and letting the dragon haul her to her shaky feet.
The pair made their way back to the clearing. Just as they left the woods, Mellary felt the weight of two pairs of eyes. She looked up and found Eragon and Saphira staring at them.
"What?" She snapped at them, exhaustion cutting her short temper in half.
"Nothing."
Nothing.
Mellary shot a fire-filled glare at the pair, then turned to Arya. The elf was having a hushed conversation with one of their guides.
"Alert the Captain that Ceris requires reinforcements." She said quietly.
"Arya." Mellary called. "Are we going to be leaving the dragons behind again?"
"Yes."
"I'm requesting to be able to stay with Embrald." She lowered her voice. "I'm tired. I'm going to be falling asleep over my paddle."
"We shall be riding."
"I'm going to fall off the horse! I'm in no shape to ride."
"I will not leave a Rider alone in the woods, just as I said yesterday," Arya explained with exaggerated patience. "Our horses will not let you fall."
Mellary gave up, knowing she didn't have the resolve to argue at the moment. Embrald was as drained as she was, the feeling compounding and dragging them both into the mud. She laid down on the ground and closed her eyes, to get what natural sleep she could before the horses arrived.
Someone was shaking her, dragging her out of the sweet darkness. Mellary tried to shake them off, but whoever it was had a grip on her that would put a coiling snake to shame.
"Let go," Mellary growled, her graveling voice promising violence. The hand vanished. She opened one eye and found Eragon regarding her. "How long was I asleep?" She asked, pushing herself up onto her elbows and looking around. Their guides had returned, holding the reins of majestic horses. The sight of the animals took her breath away, as it had in the past.
"Three hours," Eragon informed her.
Not long enough, Embrald growled at the same time. He must have woken up when she had.
It will have to do, Mellary returned. She still felt pulverized. She rolled to her feet, stretching as she did. Her muscles complained so loudly she suspected Eragon could hear them.
"Arya said to hide the dragons," He volunteered. Mellary placed a hand on Embrald's neck.
"Very well," She sighed. She started into the forest, Embrald following her. His tail rasped against the dry forest floor. A little ways away from camp, they found a tree with a hollow worn into its trunk, just the right size for Embrald to curl up in.
"Sleep it off," Mellary advised, knowing he was as drained as she.
I'm beginning to see what Saphira means, when she complains that misfortune always calls when dragon and Rider separate.
Luckily, we haven't had reason to be apart as much as… have you two been talking? The full meaning of what he had said finally sunk into her mind.
Embrald looked at her with amusement, curled up into a ball, and to all appearances went to sleep.
I know you're awake, Mellary snapped. Embrald! His mind was closed off and, with now emergency evident, her morals wouldn't let her barge in.
Fine. Keep your secrets. She stalked away, nose in the air, and tripped over an upraised branch. A quick forward roll save her from landing on her face, but nothing was going to save her dignity. She heard Embrald chuckling behind her. Mellary stuck out her tongue at his back and walked away.
She emerged just as they began loading the supplies onto the backs of one of the magnificent beasts. Mellary stepped forward, and the nearest creature raised its head at her approach.
Mellary held out her hands, murmuring in the ancient language. She moved right up to one of the horses. It dipped its head down, velvet nose dropping into her palm. The horse snorted against the leather of her glove, but didn't move its head. Mellary stroked its neck, still murmuring. The horse relaxed.
"You are very good with them," One of the elves observed in his musical voice. Mellary looked at him out of the corner of her eye.
"I spent a lot of time in the stables when I was younger." She said softly, changing neither her tone nor her language.
"A lonely childhood?" The question bordered on rude. Mellary raised one flaming eyebrow.
"You could say that," She said amiably.
Stay grounded, Embrald mumbled a sleepy warning.
But flying is so much more fun. Visions of the sun breaking over the rolling swells of green forest, seen from high above, flashed through her mind. Mellary shook her last air-born memories from her sight and focused on the horse. The elf was explaining how to control the horse. She didn't need to listen; Taniyan had followed the same commands.
She paused. She hadn't thought about the copper horse in months.
Mellary realized that the elf had fallen silent. She thanked him for the instruction, and leapt easily onto the white back. The steed, a steadfast horse names Nafín, didn't even shift. She turned to the rest of their party.
Saphira was watching her again. The blue eyes pierced her, locking her in place. Her world shrank to those sapphire spheres. The weight of the dragon's gaze woke Embrald's presence in the back of her mind. Unbeknownst to Mellary, her eyes flashed emerald. The contact broke, and she could look away. Nafín, who had not reacted to presence of two dragons, shifted nervously beneath her. Mellary absently stroked the smooth neck, soothing him. Embrald went back to sleep.
Arya took the lead, the other's trailing behind her. Mellary whispered to Nafín, and the horse started forward. A few minutes later Eragon caught up to her, having left Saphira to find a place to hide on her own. He was silent, and a snuck glance revealed that he seemed to be deep in thought. Mellary had no doubt it had something to do with the strange and pointed look she had received from Saphira.
An hour into the ride he shook it off and broke the silence.
"What was that spell you used?" He asked. Mellary shot him a grey glare, but he continued. "Arya said you were gone."
Her focus snapped to him. "What do you mean, 'gone'?" She asked sharply. The edge on her voice made him still.
"After you could not be woken, Arya attempted to reach your mind. She said that it was 'gone'."
Mellary sighed and rubbed her eyes. She almost refused to answer the question, but the openly curious tone of Eragon's voice cut through her annoyance.
"Five hundred years ago there lived an elf mage by the name of Elyse was experimenting in long distance viewing."
"Similar to scrying."
"No. Completely unlike scrying. To scry something is to focus on a certain object; the caster must have complete knowledge of what they are searching for, and they cannot view things that they don't know of, such as surroundings. What Elyse wished to do was to be able to reach across distances and view entire scenes. However, her main interest lay in contact. As I'm sure you are aware, you can only initiate mind-to-mind contact with people inside your range. This is because the mind is anchored to the body by ties that are not quite of magic, but of something else. Elyse called it the soul. She determined that, in order to reach beyond her range, she needed to loosen the ties of the soul."
"And that was what you did." The awe in his voice was evident.
"She developed a spell that allowed the user to loosen the ties, casting their mind outside of their range."
"Why loosen? Why not sever?" Eragon wondered. Mellary looked over, capturing his eyes with hers. It was important that he understand this.
"Once the ties are severed, they can never be reformed. The mind drifts and the body dies, or can be taken over by another presence." Her words made him pale slightly. Good.
"The Wandering Soul, as it is called, was the pinnacle of her work. I was forced to use it last night because I needed to reach Embrald. If the circumstances had been less dire, or if I had not had the tiniest thread to guide me, I would not have used it." She paused to make sure she still had his attention. "The Wandering Soul is a delicate and dangerous spell; it is very easy to lose control of, and requires an immense amount of power. Do. Not. Attempt. It."
The ripples of her words spread through the sudden silence.
"What happened to Elyse?" Eragon asked after a while.
"She found the limits of her own spell." Mellary said quietly. "While the magic greatly increases the range, it is not, as she found out, infinite. She moved outside of her boundaries and snapped the ties. Her body died a natural death a few days later, the only one to do so since the elves became immortal."
"I did not even know many of the words you used. How did you know?" Eragon asked.
"I traveled for a long time after my mother died. I learned much."
"Including the ancient language?"
"I specialized in ancient and elfish scrolls. Part of my apprenticeship," She lied easily.
"How much do you know?"
"Quite a bit." Mellary said, traces of self-depreciating humor in her voice. "Quite a bit."