The bright light of dawn lanced unhindered into Mellary's east facing room. It danced over the emerald dragon, making his scales shift and shimmer. The sharp light would have woken Mellary instantly. If she had been asleep.
The soft light of the false dawn had been enough to draw her from her uneasy sleep. She had woken to find her fingers aching as they clenched around her sword. Mellary pried her dead digits from her hilt, wincing as pain wormed up her fingers. She massaged her hand, trying to work some feeling back into it.
She rose silently and crossed to the balcony, looking out over the forest top. The vibrant colors were muted by the night, the stars gone. A pearly grey sheen clung to the eastern horizon, warring with the deepest blue of the sky.
Turning away from the scenery, she quietly poked around the room. A second doorway had been sunk into the wall, tucked into a niche that she hadn't seen the night before. Mellary pushed lightly and the door swung open to reveal a small circular room with a bath set down into the floor.
An actual bath. Mellary almost shivered in delight. She almost flew to fill the tub and, when the water wasn't scalding enough, poured magic into it until steam filled the small room. She shucked her clothes and sank into hot water, eliciting a heartfelt sigh of satisfaction. Steam curled up around her like a content cat.
Her fingers worked the ties in her hair, setting the cords to the side. Wiry hair sticking out in all directions, she ducked her head under the water and raked her fingers through the tangled curls. When her head broke through the water the cool air caressed the pointed tips of her exposed ears.
What are you doing? Embrald asked sleepily.
Bathing, Mellary said joyfully. She twisted around and saw a lump of soap sitting in a carved shelf. She scooped it up, working it into a sweet-smelling lather in her hands.
Why?
I may be half human, half elf, a loner, a wanderer, and who knows what else, but above all else I am female, and I will be CLEAN.
Layers of road dirt, impacted mud, and traveler's dust lifted off her skin and soaked out of her hair. A murmured thought cleaned the water, leaving it crystalline.
Hmm, I'm not as tan as I thought I was, Mellary commented wryly. Embrald chuckled and went back to sleep.
She finally stirred when the sun neared the horizon, making the sliver of visible sky pink. Mellary rose from the water, her hair plastering itself to her lower back. The weight of the water had tugged her curls into struggling waves.
"Adurna," She said. Water fell like rain, dropping from her skin and her hair until she was completely dry. Her hair sprang up, haloing her head in fire.
A soft knock on her door made her tense, reaching for a length of thick, soft cloth that she wrapped around her body. But no door opened and, after a tense minute, the smell of warm bread drifted up to her nose. She hadn't heard anyone go back down the steps, but she didn't expect to.
Mellary glanced at her clothes: dirt visible in the seams, leather worn to the thickness of paper, darned patches barely visible but present. She really didn't want to put them back on. Not when she was completely clean for the first time in far too long.
She swept up her clothes and crept back down the stairs, dropping the worn garments next to her still packed bags. Pausing by the door to ascertain that there was no one on the other side to the door, Mellary cracked the door open and almost squealed in delight when she saw the bundle of cloth waiting for her with a tray of fruit and bread. Mellary brought both into the room, setting them down on the empty desk. She glanced impatiently over the note on top of the clothes then shook out the garments, gasping in delight.
A soft white shirt went under a tunic as green as Embrald's scales and trimmed with red as bright as Mellary's hair. For a second she feared that she had been given some type of skirt, she would have vehemently protested being put in a skirt, but a pair of light brown pants with wide legs followed the rest, with a brilliant red sash and a downy pair of socks to finish.
Mellary dressed, enjoying the feel of the soft and clean cloth on her skin. She magicked the dirt off her boots until they were slightly presentable. A few splashes of water on her hands and she smoothed the cloud of hair down, quickly braiding it to cover her ears and twisting the braid up into a complicated knot. The final touch was the blazing sash, which Mellary knotted around her waist. The beaded ends dangled down one leg, knocked against each other softly.
Prepared, the sun just cresting the horizon, Mellary sat on the edge of the balcony with breakfast in hand. Her bare feet dangled over the lip and into empty air. She ate the still warm bread as she watched the sun rise.
Embrald woke once the brilliant orb cleared the horizon.
Did you have a bad dream? He asked as he stretched. Because my scales are ruffled.
That would explain why I awoke with a death grip on my sword, Mellary replied. But I don't remember any of my dreams last night.
Her lie slid by without a question as Embrald swung his head, eyes focusing on, but not seeing, the northern wall.
Saphira says that Islanzadí is waiting at the base of Eragon's tree, He reported, focusing back on her.
Here we go, Mellary said grimly. She walked over to the door and buckled her sword belt around her waist, arranging the sash to hang on her other hip.
Is that necessary? Embrald asked, eyeing the plain scabbard.
Yes. Her tone forbid contradiction.
It's a meeting, not a war zone, Embrald contradicted. Leave the sword.
Fine, Mellary snapped, unbuckling the belt and hanging it back in place.
And the dagger you slid into your boot. His eyes were laughing.
Mellary growled wordlessly and complied, hitching the knife back into its place. She stalked over and climbed onto his back, settling easily into the groove in his neck. Embrald surged forward and dropped over the edge, falling straight down. Mellary clung to him as he twisted, flaring his wings and spiraling upward.
We could just drift down, you show-off.
Yes, but that's not our style.
At least go around the back so they won't know where we are.
Mellary, the delivery of clothes and food this morning already proves that they know where we are.
….. Excellent point.
Embrald landed with a thump that rocked the ground under the feet of the Queen's entourage. Mellary jumped down, landing easily.
Islanzadí was cloaked in swan's feathers over a white gown. In the bright morning light, it glowed. Mellary greeted her and Arya politely as Eragon emerged from the stairs with Orik, and Saphira drifted down like a cloud.
"Follow me," The Queen said, tension in every line of her body. It turned her gliding walk into a graceful stalk, like a hunting predator. Mellary wished Embrald hadn't made her leave her weapons in her room.
They crossed Ellesméra. Mellary pretended not to notice the anxious and appraising looks they were receiving from the elves loitering on the streets. Eventually they passed out of the heavily inhabited areas of Ellesméra, into a section of the city that she had never been before. A different, smoke-tinged smell filled the air. It tickled her memory, but just what it was eluded her.
Their group stopped at a flat-bottomed glade. A single, narrow trail continued on, almost invisible from disuse. Islanzadí paused, looking at them with serious dark eyes, and demanded their oath not to speak of what they were about to see.
Should we? I know how much you don't like giving oaths… Embrald began.
Yes.
That was quick.
We're already here. Just give it.
Do you know something? Embrald asked suspiciously, but before Mellary could answer Islanzadí turned to them.
Mellary gave the oath again, echoed by Embrald. Islanzadí continued on.
What do you know?
You're about to find out, Mellary said, then lapsed into silence. Nervous energy radiated through her.
The group came to the edge of a massive cliff. A sweet, cloying smell rose up from the carpet of bright, blood-colored flowers crushed beneath their feet. Islanzadí stopped, well back from the edge of the cliff that dropped off into nothing. The tree-tops were so far below that they became indistinct, running together into a seamless green plane.
The air itself shivered, making the inexperienced members of the party swing their heads around in confusion.
Were those…. wing beats? Embrald asked as another peal of thunder rolled through the air.
Yes.
A golden dragon exploded over the edge of the cliff, massive wings blocking out the rising sun. The Rider on its neck was dwarfed by the massive size of the beast; the dragon was so big, nature demanded that it shouldn't have been able to fly.
Eragon fell to his knees, shocked beyond words. Saphira almost leapt back, her wings snapping. Embrald sat hard, rumbling deep in his chest. His glowing eyes were fixed on the dragon.
Mellary couldn't help her jaw dropping open. She had known what to expect, but the sight was grand enough to astound anyone. The Rider's eyes flicked to her and Embrald, and she thought she saw his brows draw together. The expression was gone so fast she wasn't sure if she had seen it.
The dragon landed hard, in a windstorm that whipped her hair around her face. If Embrald had made the ground tremble, this great creature made it buck and roll like a storm-ridden sea. Its club of a left foot dangled in the air. A feeling of deep sadness and compassion filled Mellary when she saw it
The Rider dismounted easily. He was an ancient elf, flowing hair bright silver. He drew himself up to his impressive height, as if centuries didn't hang on his shoulders.
"The Mourning Sage. As you asked, I have come," Eragon said, awe overwhelming his voice.
"Oromis is my name, Eragon Shadeslayer," The elf said, pulling the boy to his feet. Mellary's eyes were locked onto the elf, absorbing everything.
"You knew," Islanzadí accused. "You knew of Eragon's existence and yet you did not tell me?"
Oromis looked at the Queen with his dark gaze and softly chastised her for sinking into her depression. Mellary waited, tense, for the exchange to end.
It did when the elven Rider turned to her, a confused and guarded expression on his face.
"Your presence, green Rider, I did not see," He said softly. His eyes caught her up, drowning her in their dark depths until her words froze in her mouth. Mellary cleared her throat and lowered her eyes, breaking the spell.
"My presence did not cause the eddies that Eragon Shadeslayer's did, Rider," She replied, her voice demure for the first time in her life. She hope the mention of Eragon's accomplishments would be enough to pull the attention off of her.
It wasn't.
"What is your name, Rider?"
"I am called Mellary, and this is Embrald," She said reaching out to lay her hand on Embrald's shoulder. The dragon rumbled.
The golden dragon dipped his head, his breath ruffling Eragon's hair. One golden eye fixed on her as well, and his message rang through her head.
We are well met, Eragon Shadeslayer and Mellary the Rider. I am Glaedr. His voice had the same deep timbre as Embrald's, but was earthier than her dragon's windswept crystalline tones.
Gleadr's attention turned to the dragons. First Saphira, who trembled under the golden elder's gaze, then to Embrald. The green dragon, smallest of the three, shrank back as Glaedr towered over him. Mellary pressed her hand against his scales, and he leaned into her palm.
You smell of your Rider and of the high cold winds. He informed Embrald.
Anything else he had intended to say what cut short by Orik's blunt question, drawing the attention of everyone in the clearing.
"Why have you remained hidden for all these years?"
It was the dwarf's turn to be caught in the Rider's gaze. "Many sorrows exist in this world, and one of the greatest is being unable to help those in pain. I couldn't not risk leaving this sanctuary, for if I had died before one of Galbatorix's eggs had hatched, then there would have been no one to pass on our secrets to the new Rider, and it would have been even harder to defeat Galbatorix."
No smart comments? Embrald asked.
I can't be clever all the time.
"That was your reason? Those are the words of a coward!"
A coward with extenuating circumstances, perhaps.
I was beginning to wonder if you had fallen ill.
"If you were not my guest here, I would strike you down myself for that insult."
She would, too. We would be wiping his remains off the ground with a cloth. Actually, I take that back. There wouldn't be anything left to wipe up.
"Nay, I am not offended. It is an apt reaction. Understand that Glaedr and I cannot fight. Glaedr has his disability and I am also maimed. The Forsworn broke something within me when I was their captive." He continued on, but Mellary tensed at his words. There were only a few spells that could cause that type of damage, and all of them would have been torturously painful.
You know of these spells? The idea that she might be able to command such dark power clearly bothered him.
I have read many spells. Not all of them caused flowers to fall from the sky. But knowing of their existence does not mean that I could ever find the strength to perform them. Those are the types of spells that twist the user as well as the victim.
Oromis finished his explanation, leaving the dwarf babbling apologies. The Rider inclined his head graciously.
"By your leave?" He asked the Queen.
"Go, go and be done with you."
Her Majesty is royally out of patience. That didn't take long.
Oromis climbed up into his saddle so quickly he appeared to fly. "Come, Riders. We have much to talk about."
Are you ready? Embrald asked.
Can anyone ever be ready for this? Mellary asked back.
Perhaps not. But it appears that the only option is to jump into the void and see what becomes of us.
More accurately, to jump off of the cliff and see what becomes of us, Mellary corrected as she climbed onto Embrald's bare back. It occurred to her that she hadn't even unpacked the saddle; Embrald hadn't worn it during the entire trip north. She shrugged the thought aside, unrepentant.
Embrald crouched and surged into the air, catching the massive updraft rising off the heated face of the cliff. They rose high, the strong wind lifting Embrald's slight frame much higher that Glaedr's time-bulked one. Keeping apace with Glaedr and Saphira, the trio flew along the cliff face.
The trees pulled back from another clearing, and they set down. Between the three dragons, there wasn't a lot of space left for the Riders. Luckily, compared to the dragons, they didn't need that much. Mellary ducked around Embrald and dodged Glaedr's massive whole foreleg, following the elven Rider and Eragon to a quaint little hut set against the cliff face. Embrald followed her, head over her shoulder.
Oromis vanished through the door and reappeared with three stools and water. Mellary accepted the glass of water and sank down. Embrald curled up around her, letting her lean back against his side.
Silence reigned. After five minutes of waiting for someone to speak, Mellary opened her mouth to make some inane comment, just to break the silence. Embrald's tail tapped against her leg, startling her.
Patience, He advised. Mellary sighed silently. She rolled her shoulders, trying to release the tension built up there.
How did you know? Embrald asked quietly.
I wasn't supposed to, She replied, just as softly. They would have been much happier if I hadn't known, but it's not easy hide a conspicuous golden dragon, not one that's that big. After I pointed Glaedr out to my teacher at the time, they pulled me aside and made me swear that oath we just took.
So you couldn't tell me?
No. I wish I could have, but my tongue was tied.
Will he know of your nature?
I don't know. A Rider of that age should have enormous magical capabilities, but he is injured. I'm not entirely sure what would happen.
Mellary returned her gaze to the green ocean in front of the cliff shore. She let her mind wander, ending up back in the skies over her glacier. Drifting lights obscured her vision.
You're going to have to take me to see those sometime. Embrald's voice broke through her revere.
We will, Mellary promised. Some day.
She drifted again until Oromis spoke. "You have learned the value of patience well. That is good."
Embrald chuckled. Mellary poked him with her elbow.
"Let me see your hands. I find that they tell me much about a person." Oromis said. A feeling colder than the glacial winds shot through Mellary, freezing her in place. She clenched her hands, the leather of her gloves creaking. Eragon offered up his hands.
Dread sank through her stomach as Mellary listened to the detailed description of Eragon's life, right down to minute aspects of his personality.
I don't suppose it would go well if I left my gloves on, Mellary commented grimly.
Those are barely gloves. They don't have any fingers.
Mellary pulled them off slowly, moving to tuck the gloves into her pocket, only to find that the pants didn't have any.
Who makes pants without pockets? She demanded.
Mellary looked up to find Oromis looking at her with his kind eyes, hands extended. She sighed, shifted on her stool, and slowly extended her hands, her battle written all over her face. Her wrists kept twitching, jerking her fingers back. Oromis waited patiently.
Her fingers came to rest on his. The elf looked at her long, slim fingers, so very like his own, and a slight frown creased his forehead. He ignored it, turning her hands over to look at the calluses.
"You are a scholar by choice, a warrior by circumstance." He said after a long pause. "You are an expert swordswoman, and can use a bow although you prefer not to. You have been traveling for a long time, often in the north."
"Why would you say that?" Mellary asked as she absently ran her thumb over the pads formed from gripping a quill.
"You have deep pads from holding reins for long periods of time, and your skin has the feel that comes from cracking and healing many times over. Also, you are much older than you appear." He traced a deep scar across her palm. "The faded marks on your hands have been healing for many decades."
He finally looked back up into her eyes. "These hands do not belong to who you claim to be." Mellary couldn't contain her wince. "Show me your ears," He commanded.
There was no way to get out of this. Mellary's eyes slid sideways; Eragon was looking at her in confusion, Saphira with narrowed eyes.
She reclaimed her hands and raised them to the cord in her hair. Embrald wrapped his tail around her ankle, the light touch lending her strength. She pulled it out slowly, then ran her fingers through the braids, unraveling them.
Her pointed ears plowed through the curls like the prow of a boat through waves, sails flying high.
Eragon gaped at her, jaw open. Saphira looked pleased, for some reason. Mellary looked down and away, embarrassed.
"Your mother…." Oromis said softly, compassionately.
"Emary," Mellary said.
"And your father…."
"A human sorcerer."
"You're a half blood?" Eragon exclaimed. Mellary hissed under her breath. That name had been thrown in her face far too many times. "How… how did you keep it a secret?"
"People don't see what they aren't looking for," Mellary said. Her fingers danced through her hair, rapidly braiding it back into place.
"You could have told me," Eragon grumbled.
I knew, Saphira said proudly. I sensed it when we first met.
Mellary raised her eyes to Oromis's. "Is this going to be a problem?" She asked, her voice softly menacing.
"You are a Rider. That is all that is important," Oromis said. "But I must ask; why are you here?" His gaze swept wide to include Eragon, but the question was pointed at Mellary.
"To learn about the Riders. I've read many scrolls, but I also know that there are secrets that are not written anywhere, things that can only be passed down from Rider to Rider."
"To complete my training." Eragon chipped in.
"And what do you think that entails?"
"Learning more about magic and fighting," Was Eragon's answer. Mellary remained, silent, eyes narrowed.
"Magic, swordsmanship, and other such skills are useless unless you know how and when to apply them. This I will teach you. However, as Galbatorix has demonstrated, power without moral direction is the most dangerous force in the world. My main task, then, is to help you to understand what principles guide you, so that you do not make the right choices for the wrong reasons. You must learn more about yourself, who you are and what you are capable of doing." Mellary shifted uncomfortably, and the elf's eyes slid to her. "That is why you are here."
When do we begin? Saphira asked. Mellary looked to Oromis for an answer, and saw a shadow pass over his face. The cloak of magic that Mellayr could sense over him ripped, shredding like mist by a strong wind.
Immediately he tensed, hands curling into claws and jaw locking into place. Veins bulged against his skin, and his eyes widened impossibly.
In a heartbeat it was gone, all energy seeming to drain from Oromis's slim frame. He slumped down, exhausted.
"Are you well?"
Obviously not.
"Less so that I might wish." Oromis replied with a hooked smile. "We elves fancy ourselves immortal, but not ever we can escape certain maladies of the flesh, which are beyond out knowledge of magic to do more than delay. No, do not worry, it isn't contagious, but neither can I rid myself of it. I have spent decades binding myself with hundreds of small, weak spells that, layered on another, duplicate the effects of enchantments that are now beyond my reach."
You could perform the enchantments, Embrald said.
Perhaps. The important question is, why haven't the elves done so already? There must be a reason they haven't, and if a circle of elven healers couldn't help him, I don't have a chance.
"How long until…"
"Until I die? We have time, but precious little for you or me, especially if the Varden decide to call upon your help." He looked at Mellary.
"I am not bound to the Varden." She said quietly, her tone daring him to ask why.
Oromis didn't accept the challenge. "To answer your question, Saphira, we will being your instruction immediately, and we will train faster than any Rider ever has or ever will."
"You do know about my… my own infirmity." Eragon struggled with the words, his face flushing redder than her hair in the sunlight. Mellary immediately felt pity for him.
Your turn. What's your damage? Embrald quipped as Oromis pacified Eragon.
My severe trust and inadequacy issues are no business of theirs, Mellary snapped back.
"The pain is unbearable! It would kill me-"
Poor kid.
"It will not kill you." Oromis interrupted. "That much I know about your curse. However, we both have our duty; you to the Varden and I to you. And you, Mellary, what is your duty?"
"My duty is to myself and Embrald." Mellary replied.
"You have sworn no oaths?" Oromis asked. Mellary shook her head, and he looked bothered by this. Mellary shrugged one shoulder defensively.
The elf considered this, sitting in silence for a minute. Finally he straightened.
"I would like to see what you are made of, individually. Mellary, would you be willing to return at noon?"
Mellary nodded once, standing. Embrald rose when she did, and Mellary climbed nimbly onto his back. The dragon took one leap, landing on the edge of the cliff, then dove over and out of sight.