"Halt," Arya said softly, then murmured to the horses. All came to a stop, forming a line across the path they were traveling. Embrald crept up next to Mellary, lying low to the ground. In the dim twilight beneath the tall canopy, his scales blended with the ground. The dusk gave everything a solemn and mysterious feel. Even the air here was charged with memory, curling and languishing in her lungs.
The dark in front of them parted around a pool of light, revealing the guardian of Ellesméra. Though she had been expecting it, the sight took her breath away. Despite the lines that had marked his face, the elf gave off a sense of boundless energy, of timelessness. The light seemed to come from him, instead of from above, emanating in shimmering waves.
Somehow knowing what was expected, feeling like she was caught in a dream, Mellary tugged the glove off her palm. The sight of mark on her hand made her pause for a second. The gedwëy ignasia seemed to fit perfectly in the center of her hand, swirling loops of silver etched beneath her skin forever. Taken together, the lines reminisced of strong winds and high, airy clouds.
She raised her hand, palm out to the elf. The light caught the silver and reflected it back, making her hand shine. Eragon mimicked the motion, displaying a sigil ring as well. Mellary raised an eyebrow; very few of those had been handed out, and only to select people cherished by the elves. She wondered how he had gotten his hands on one. Or, more accurately, one on his hand.
The elf, Gilderien, her memory whispered, raised his arms. A powerful pulse of magic rolled from him and lifted the potent shields around the city, shields strong enough to stop an enraged dragon.
"The way is clear," Arya said. Their company started forward. As Mellary passed Gilderien, a presence brushed up against her shields. Mellary tensed, but the touch was already gone, leaving behind a message.
Welcome home, Ithestra. The elf clapped his hands and vanished, taking his light with him. Dusk slunk back around them.
Ithestra? Embrald asked.
You heard? Mellary asked needlessly, trying to gather her scattered thoughts.
Clearly. What does it mean?
Some would say that it means Lost One, but a more accurate translation is Wayward One. Mellary stared at the trees, not seeing them. He's wrong.
As they drew deeper into Ellesméra, the trees began to twist and take on shapes that bordered on artificial, but retained flowing, natural forms. It was a perfect union of the two, one that caught eye with majestic swoops and whorls.
Elven architecture. Unique among all others, and stunningly beautiful. Mellary sighed.
The inhabitants of the lovely buildings began to emerge like wraiths. Ethereal beings, clad in autumn that seemed too beautiful for this world. Their bright eyes were locked on the dragons and Riders. The weight of so many gazes pressed on her, making her shrink down. She murmured almost inaudibly to Nafín, and the horse shifted back half a step. It wasn't much, but it was enough to put her in Saphira's shadow. Embrald faded back as well, but nothing was going to help the green dragon hide. His scales blazed like burnished emerald in the light of the setting sun.
Eragon touched his lips, and the entire crowd bowed. They began to laugh, the sound like thousands of silver chimes. Someone began to sing an ancient ballad in a trilling voice. They dismounted and sent the horses on their way. Mellary reached out and put a hand on Embrald's shoulder.
"Come." Arya began to walk up the path, her boots silent on the stones. Mellary allowed Eragon to go first as she trailed behind.
Astonishingly, the singing and the crowding and the calls helped her loosen her tense shoulders. It was something she had never seen before, different enough to take the edge off of her memories. She had been afraid that she would drown in them, weighed down by decades of repression. She recognized buildings and faces, her mind providing names to many of the elves that surrounded them. But the fanfare, the celebrity, kept her head above the water.
Let me help, Embrald said, reaching out.
I can handle it, She insisted, shrugging him off. Embrald didn't respond, but she could feel his rebuke.
Mellary took a deep breath and shoved all the memories back into the space in her head, slamming the door shut. There would be time enough later to dwell on the past. Now, she needed to figure out what she was going to say to the Queen. She wouldn't be able to dodge questions, not like she had with Arya.
The road ended too soon. They ascended into a great hall, a canopy of emerald suspended by great trees that rose up from the floor. Chairs surrounded a table that had been grown out of the floor and smoothed by millennia of hands. And beyond the lords of war with swords on their belts sat Islanzadí on her white throne.
Eragon's jaw dropped subtly. He was seeing her beauty, wrapped up in fragility. Many did. Mellary saw the shadows. Shadows that clung to her face, lining her sharp bones. Shadows that shifted around her as she moved. Her dark eyes hid a cunning and fierce intelligence. Islanzadí knew how to get what she wanted.
They crossed the hall, the dragon's claws echoing on the floor. The non-scaled members of their party knelt, the winged ones dipped their heads. The Queen rose and approached them. Mellary's unseen hand clenched into a fist. She had run into the Queen rarely in her years here. She could only hope that the elven monarch had not felt it necessity to remember the face of a half-blood.
She needn't have worried just then. Islanzadí's eyes slid over her and locked onto Arya.
"My daughter, I have wronged you!" She cried in a musical voice.
You bet you did. Mellary snarled at the Queen silently. You have no idea how much pain you put her through. Fifteen years later, she would still side with Arya against her mother.
Arya greeted her formally, a slap to the Queen. Mellary bit her lip to keep from smiling.
"Ever since you disappeared, I have barely slept or eaten. I was haunted by your fate, and feared that I would never see you again. Banning you from my presence was the greatest mistake I ever made."
You meant every word you said to her then. Mellary said coldly. The Queen looked distraught.
"Can you forgive me?" Islanzadí asked softly. The elves in the room stirred in amazement. Mellary looked on coldly.
So cynical for one so young, Embrald commented.
I'm not the only one. Everything Islanzadí does is calculated. This is simply another game to her.
She certainly seems upset.
She's had thousands of years to practice her already excellent acting skills.
"And I cannot forget what I endured." Arya said. The two had been talking as she and Embrald had.
"Nor should you. I love you. You are my only family. Go if you must, but unless you wish to renounce me, I would be reconciled with you."
Arya is backed into a corner; refusing her magnanimous mother could make her seem childish and petty after that proclamation.
"No, Mother. I could not leave," She sighed. Islanzadí smiled and hugged Arya. For an instant, Mellary could see triumph in her eyes.
So she got her way after all, Embrald commented. Mellary wondered if he could sense the subtle tension in Arya.
She always does. Islanzadí is an expert at manipulating people.
"You must excuse me for being discourteous to you, our most important guests," The Queen proclaimed as she turned to the Riders and dragons.
Eragon gave the traditional greeting, to be parroted by the other three. Mellary kept her face blank as she did.
"Dragon, what is your name?" She asked Saphira. Even Eragon had to catch the look of recognition as the blue dragon responded, it lingered to long on the face of the queen.
"And yours?" She asked.
Embrald. He replied. Mellary knew the names of every dragon and Rider pair; Embrald was unique.
"Welcome, Saphira and Embrald. And yours, Riders?"
"Eragon Shadeslayer, Your Majesty." Even Islanzadí was stunned. Mellary raised an eyebrow. "You carry a powerful name, one we rarely bestow on our children. And you?" Her eyes swept over to include Mellary.
She tried not to hesitate. The question was vague, and if she didn't speak in the ancient language….
"Mellary, Your Majesty." She said.
"Welcome to Ellesméra, Riders. We have waited long for you."
She had been able to speak. She could have sighed in relief.
Why so concerned? Embrald asked.
Because my name is not Mellary. I adopted 'Mellary' when I left, to avoid notice. I cannot claim to be Mellary, because I am not. She sighed. Humans may not notice or care, but elves know that saying 'call me this', or 'I am called that' does not necessarily mean that the name given is your own.
So in fifteen years…
I have never said 'My name is Mellary'. No.
"I wish to hear your full story, Eragon Shadeslayer, and yours as well, Mellary. I wish to know how you came into possession of a dragon's egg, when we had not heard of another being liberated." She sat back and laced her fingers together.
Eragon spoke first, relating his tale. When he finished, silence rang through the hall.
I…I had no idea he had been through that much. Mellary said softly.
Impressed? Embrald asked.
Yes. But don't you DARE tell Saphira. I have a cynical and condescending reputation to maintain.
The Queen's eyes turned to her. Mellary raised an eyebrow, inviting her to ask.
Islanzadí must have sensed her reluctance. "Where did you find Embrald's egg?" She asked, her question razor sharp.
Everyone's attention locked onto her. Mellary stifled a wince. She wasn't going to weasel her way out of this one.
"In Dras-Leona," She admitted. There was a collective gasp.
She started with hearing Embrald's call in the northlands, giving as few details as she could get away with. Embrald curled his tail around one of her feet, offering strength. She left out the part about the Wandering Soul. No need to tell them that.
When she stopped, it was quiet. Islanzadí studied her with those dark, shadowed eyes. Mellary's stomach clenched.
Don't ask any questions. Don't ask any questions. Don'taskanyquestions!
Her eyes slid on to Orik. "What is your mission here?"
Don't sigh with relief. Don't sigh with relief.
Mellary, Embrald sighed. Relax. What if they did know? What would they do? What could they do? You're a DRAGON RIDER. There's not much walking this earth that we need to be afraid of.
Physically, no. But, if I get thrown out again…
You were never thrown out. You left.
Because my life was in danger! I just… I pretend to be so…. She stopped talking, imagined her glacier. Forget it.
Don't close off.
Forget it.
Mellary….
Silence.
I'm getting frostbite. Embrald commented. And I thought the upper air was cold.
It is. Every time we fly up there I come back with ice crystals in my hair.
Ice wouldn't dare to cling to your hair-of-fire.
Islanzadí turned to Arya. "What befell you, my daughter?" She asked. Arya locked her eyes onto nothing and began to speak in a flat voice. She normally kept her emotions to a minimum, but even that trace had been stripped away. She had divorced herself from the memories completely. Listening to what she had gone through, Mellary couldn't blame her.
They hadn't spoken in years, hadn't parted on the best of terms, but there were some things that a person couldn't listen to and not feel rage. Her fingers tightened around her swords. Embrald rumbled quietly.
She couldn't have endured that, not with her mind intact.
The elves were outraged, and Mellary didn't have to be able to read Eragon's mind to feel the anger rolling off of him in waves. The tale was over, and she forced her hands to relax away from her swords. She flexed her hands, cracking her knuckles.
"Enough. Our guests wait tired on their feet, and we have spoken of evil things for far too long."
If the elves have one fault, it is that they have trouble dealing with 'evil things' for an extended period of time.
"I will not have this occasion marred by lingering on past injuries."
Despite the fact that your daughter was flayed within an inch of her life. And part of the blame is yours.
Could you please cut the internal commentary? Your cynicism is astounding.
Nope. And it's ingrained.
"My daughter has returned, the dragons and their Riders have appeared, and I will see us celebrate in the proper fashion!" Flowers appeared out of the air, swirling around them like a floral blizzard. Mellary resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Islanzadí lean forward and say something in Arya's ear.
"It was my decision to make." Arya replied. Mellary knew enough of her history to guess what the Queen had said.
Controlling wyvern. She didn't feel the need to share that thought with Embrald.
They followed the Queen as she strode through the hall, elves bowing right and left. A flick of her fingers and a single word and the doors blew open, revealing hundreds of elves. Mellary immediately tensed. Islanzadí called food and wine. She began to thread through the crowd. Mellary followed half a step behind Embrald, letting the dragon clear her way. Crowds were something she was not fond of, no matter what race they were made of. Embrald appeared to share her sentiment; he kept rustling his wings as if he wanted to take off.
Get used to it. You're going to be the center of attention, Mellary advised. For once.
You don't like attention? Shocking!
Mellary gave him a smug smile.
They stopped at what Mellary privately referred to as the 'banquet glade': a large open area set with massive tables and chairs. A roaring fire, at least as tall as she was, already occupied a large circle near the table.
Someone pressed a cup into her hands. Mellary delicately sniffed the clear liquid inside and rapidly determined it wasn't water; it was faelnirv. She gave the elf that had handed it to her a bright smile and, as soon as they looked away, set it aside.
Elves flocked to Embrald. She guessed that it was something about the deep emerald of his scales, a color that mimicked the rich color of the greenery around Ellesméra. Her dragon was smaller than Saphira, younger, but he was arguably getting more attention. After the first few greetings and questions, Mellary managed to partially fade into the shadows around the edge of the clearing. She stood back, laughing at the uncomfortable look on Embrald's face.
"Like Rider, like dragon," She murmured. She had found a wooden cup filled with a delicious juice, and was sipping on it as she watched the activity in the clearing.
"What did you say?" Eragon asked, coming up next to her.
His eyes were locked on the crowd around Saphira.
"Jealous?" She asked.
He looked embarrassed. "A little. I'm used to being the one that people talk to."
"Elves were speaking to dragons long before they were talking to humans." She said. "And I said 'like Rider, like dragon'. It appears that Embrald has my… distaste… for attention."
They watched the celebration for a minute.
"You snuck into the Palace at Dras-Leona?" He finally asked. Mellary sighed and rubbed the bridge between her eyes.
"I did." She said. "Sometimes it's easier for a mouse to slip through the wall than a pack of dogs." Eragon looked slightly confused. "I'm one person. It's easier for me to slip through a guard. Besides, Embrald didn't leave me much choice in the matter." She said it with a small smile.
"Where were you living before?"
Mellary shrugged. "I was roaming." She said, remembering the guardian's greeting. A slight frown creased the corner of her mouth. Then her gaze slid sideways. "I didn't realize all that you had been through."
His face grew shadowed, and she could see pain beyond his years in his eyes. A twinge of regret for her words shot through her.
"For what it's worth, I think you did a decent job with what you had been given," She said. "Not many would have been able to adapt so quickly."
"I appreciate it." He said sounding surprised. Mellary wondered if she had been too closed off.
I told… Embrald began.
Shut it!
A delectable scent drifted in with the slight breeze. Mellary sniffed the air and was instantly transported back decades. Her mouth began to water, and she licked her lips.
Elves began to flock to the table. Islanzadí sat at one end, her 'important people' gathered around her. Arya sat next to her, then Eragon, and only then Mellary. Saphira dominated the other end. Embrald was down there as well, but didn't have the auspicious place at the end of the table; he had a spot slightly off to the side. He didn't seem to mind being out of the center of attention.
Mellary ate slowly, relishing the food. She didn't get to eat good food often, and wasn't about to let her anxiety get in the way of her appetite.
No meat. Embrald observed as his long fangs bit into a massive pile of honeycakes.
Elves don't eat meat.
You eat meat, and you lived here for….how long?
I ate meat because there wasn't much growing in the areas I was traveling in. Not much that wouldn't kill me after the first bite, and quite a bit that tried to kill me before.
A white form stalked past her on black-tipped claws; the raven, heading for the end of the table. Mellary set her utensils down and rested her chin on her hand, her eyes on the bird.
Blagden stopped in front of Saphira, rustling his wings. He opened his beak and croaked out his mildly offensive little poem. Everyone paused, waiting for Saphira's reaction.
Embrald's deep chuckle rolled across the table.
Saphira looked up, puffed a clouds of smoke at the raven and retorted. Everyone laughed and relaxed again. Blagden stalked back down, shaking wisps of dark smoke from his light feathers. As he passed her, he dipped his dark beak.
"Ithestra." He squawked quietly. Mellary's smile vanished, and she glared at the raven. It cackled at her and hopped back over to Islanzadí.
"What does that mean?" Eragon asked.
"It's none of your concern." Mellary snapped quietly.
"Is it a greeting?"
"It is none of your concern." Mellary said, warning dripping from her words. Nonplused by her intensity, he looked away.
The Queen stood, everyone around her scrambling to their feet. She called for the dragons and Riders to follow her, then swept off into the night. As Mellary passed by the werecat, Maud nodded to her.
"Ithestra," She purred.
"I wish everyone would stop calling me that." Mellary growled. Embrald next to her rumbled.
"It's what you are, no?" Maud said wickedly. Mellary sighed in defeat and walked on. Behind her, Eragon paused to speak to the werecat.
Islanzadí led them to the base of a massive tree honeycombed with rooms. A spindly, unguarded staircase vanished into the depths of the tree. For as long as she could remember the tree, and the ones behind it, had stood empty.
"This is where the leader of the Riders would dwell while in Ellesméra." Islanzadí said, her eyes locked on Eragon. "I give it to you now, for you are the rightful heir to that title."
Mellary smiled wryly. In the few moments that she had spoken with them, the Queen had easily dissected the situation. That, or she believed that she could manipulate Eragon better than she could Mellary. On that count, she was entirely correct.
Eragon looked at Mellary out of the corner of his eye.
"You were the first." She said with a shrug. "It's your right."
"It is your inheritance." The Queen said. Eragon nodded.
"Mellary, there are other rooms in the surrounding glade. You may have your pick."
Mellary nodded. Islanzadí returned the gesture, then swept off. Arya followed behind her. Mellary bid Eragon good night and turned to survey the rest of the trees. Embrald leapt into the sky and began to swoop between the trees, twining through the branches. Mellary walked over to one of the massive, aromatic redwoods. She ran her silvered palm down the smooth, almost fuzzy bark. She could almost feel life humming under her fingers, a stirring of the magic that made her palm itch. The Riders may have left the trees, but the redwoods remembered the Riders.
This one. She said. She tugged her glove out of her pocket and onto her hand. The silver glimmer vanished. Up top, to cut down on visitors?
But you don't want to be too unreachable. Social, remember? A third of the way up.
Three quarters.
Half.
Two thirds, and I'm not budging.
Deal. See you up there.
Mellary looked up in time to see the stars blotted out by a massive spread of wings and felt the downdraft touch her face. Growling about inconsiderate winged lizards who left their partners to climb up massive trees when it wouldn't have been an inconvenience to fly down and get them, she forced her tired limbs to climb up the steep stairs. While Eragon's redwood had only one suit inside it, there were at least four clusters of conjoined rooms. Mellary arrived at one down from the top, running her hand down the side of the door. A spiraling dragon had been carved into the door. When the artist had been cutting it out of the tree he or she had hit one of the lines of sap in the tree; it had bled sap that had filled the carving and dried, leaving behind a green stain and an emerald dragon. If Mellary had put any weight in omens, she would have taken it as one.
She pushed the door open. A dark room greeted her. She could sense Embrald somewhere in the room, but the scattered starlight coming in wasn't enough to determine her surroundings.
"Brisinger." The word rolled off her tongue, tasting vaguely of woodsmoke. Three lamps flared, lighting the room with a soothing glow.
Embrald was curled up inside a deep and blanketed indentation in the wooden floor, his chin on the rim and his tail tucked around his claws. Across the room, a bed was tucked up against the wall. Next to the door rested a thick desk made of a richly colored wood. The room was round, with no corners. A third of the wall was simply missing, furnishing an excellent view of the night sky. The floor continued out past the edge of the wall, creating a landing platform for Embrald.
Mellary dropped her pack next to the door; the bag had been waiting for her at the base of Eragon's dwelling, as had his. A row of pegs jutted out from the wall at her eye level, right next to the door. Mellary unbuckled her belt and hung it up, her daggers and swords dangling down. She shucked her boots and left them by the door as well. Sliding one of the sheathed blades from its place, she padded across the floor in her socks and out onto the balcony.
The world opened up beneath her feet. Darkness stretched away and Ellesméra was spread out before her like a map, fires glittering like constellation. Mellary leaned against the wall and sighed.
Are you happy to have returned? Embrald asked quietly. Mellary turned to find one great eye on her.
I never imagined coming back, She replied, turning back to the night.
What did you believe would happen, when you left?
I just assumed that I would wander until I came across something stronger than me.
And then? He asked when she paused.
And then I would die. Alone. Her voice was soft and flat. Not bleak, but simply stating a fact.
You didn't think you would settle somewhere?
No. I…. knew. I just knew that I would never find a place. She tipped her head back to stare at the stars. They're not wrong. Maud, Blagden, Gilderien. I am wayward. A drifter. I don't belong anywhere.
You're not alone anymore, though. Embrald said softly.
Mellary beamed at the dragon. I know.
She wiped a tear out of her eye and turned away from the darkness. She walked over to the bed and stood next to it, studying it. Now, what is this strange contraption? It appears to be a sack full of feathers on four sticks, but for the life of me I can't figure out what its purpose is.
It's called a bed, Embrald supplied helpfully. Humans sleep in them.
Why would I need a 'bed'? There's a perfectly good blanket next to a dragon right over there.
Because not everyone has the luxury of a dragon.
That sounds terrible, not having a dragon. How do they fly?
I believe they don't.
That's awful. They can keep their 'beds'. Mellary curled up next to Embrald, her fingers just resting on the hilt of her sword.