Perhaps you could make us invisible long enough to get close, Embrald suggested. The two of them were standing side by side at the entrance to the crag, contemplating the icy structure in the distance.
Mellary winced at the very thought. It would break me; I'm not skilled enough to hold the spell for more than a few seconds. I'd be worse that useless. She shook her head. What if we dropped in from above?
We would still be see against the sky, and we would still be forced to land in front of the entrance. The roof of the thing is solid. He thought for a moment. We could simply fly up.
Whoever lives there has enough power to overwhelm an elven quartet. We can't give them time to prepare a defense.
Then, O Wise One, what is your plan?
I'm going to walk up. The winter coat she had was the same soft grey as a birch tree. With her hair tucked away beneath the hood, she would hopefully go unnoticed, a dim grey against the white and blue.
That is your idea? Embrald asked incredulously. To simply walk up alone? There could be a whole battalion of soldiers in there. It is insanity. No.
Not this place, Mellary argued back. Can you imagine the logistics of trying to garrison soldiers here? Not to mention morale. No, there's only one creature in there, and it is powerful enough to use this magic. The very air seemed to thrum with the strange power. It resonated in her bones, trying to whisper strange secrets in her mind. Mellary had locked her shields down tight after they landed, but nothing she did could stop the constant sense of strangeness. Though he hadn't said anything, she knew that Embrald was feeling it as well.
It was rubbing them both the wrong way.
If I approach alone, then they won't know that you're here, she pointed out.
Holding me in reserve, Mellary?
Yes.
He fixed her with a disapproving emerald glare. I do not like this plan.
Do you have a better one? I'd love to hear it.
Embrald argued, but in the end even he had to admit that his brilliant green scales stood out against the white glare and deep blue ice. They simply had no alternative.
Mellary braided her hair back firmly to keep it from blowing around, binding her ears almost flat against her head. The thin skin at the elongated tips would freeze almost instantly in the freezing chill.
She unbuckled the bags attached to Embrald's saddle and tucked them deeper into the crevasse, leaving him unburdened and unadorned, except for the simple leather saddle.
Mellary pulled on her magic, sinking spells into the thick fur of the coat to augment the enchantment already on it. The magic locked in her body heat, settling a blanket of warmth around her. Her fingers moved restlessly, checking the straps of her weapons, the ties of the coat.
Do not die on me, Mellary.
You either, you big lizard, she teased affectionately. Don't wait too long. If you freeze solid, I'm not walking back to thaw you out. She threw her arms around his neck for a brief moment.
With nothing else left to prepare, she took a deep breath and walked out of the crack and started towards the citadel.
The wind bit into her as soon as she stepped out of the shelter. Mellary hunched her shoulders against the wind, feeling it tear into the heat spells with a predatory viciousness.
She walked and walked, but the passing of ice beneath her boots was the only marker of passing distance. The soft brown leather of her boots was the only hint of color in the barren landscape. They drew her eyes until she was walking with her gaze locked on the ground, her head bowed against the wind.
Suddenly a shadow fell across her. Mellary looked up, and found herself staring at the wall of the Citadel.
The first thought in her frozen mind was that they had been wrong. Massive slabs of granite had thrust up through the glacier and formed the skeleton that held up the towering structure. Layers and layers of ice had grown over it in swooping and elegant patterns. The harsh edges of the sheets of ice and the frozen spires gave the citadel a rugged look, but the designs and spirals were too perfect to have been natural.
The ice in front of her was solid, without a single break. Mellary turned and began to walk around the structure. The wall curved in an unnaturally smooth line, yet another reminder that some powerful force had created the place.
She had traveled almost halfway around before she found it. The wall seemed to have been rent open by a massive force. A ragged tear ran from top to bottom, revealing the shadowed interior. A single dark blue tunnel stretched into the interior, curving away out of sight. The slight breeze coming from the inside seemed colder than the air outside. Mellary shivered as the cold sank into her bones.
Mellary?
I'm fine.
She took a slow and deliberate step forward. The tunnel closing over her head sent a spark of fear racing down her spine. She had the distinct, unpleasant sensation of being swallowed alive.
The hallway unspooled in front of her, curving away. There were no turn offs, no intersecting hallways. The path kept going, winding around and around. Mellary noticed the curves were getting smaller and smaller, as if she was in a large spiral, walking towards the center.
The walls and ceiling peeled back, and she stepped out into a large hollow cavern. Light filtered through the ice, painting everything a matte blue. The ceiling reached high overhead, to the junction of two slabs. Icicles dripped down, creating an inverted forest of sharp points that shimmered.
"You," a rich voice said in accented elvish. "You have strange magic around you."
Mellary's gaze tore from the icicles and snapped down. The middle of the room dropped clean away, as if a massive force had punched a perfect circle in the ice. Slowly drifting above the abyss, something that snagged her attention for a moment, was a cluster of perfectly cut crystals. They hung suspended in the air, drifting slowly and shimmering with their own ethereal light.
Something moved at the edge of the hole. The murky blue light hid everything but the ragged outline. The figure raised its hands and clapped once. Light blazed from the crystals, refracting from the hanging icicles and scattering it around the cavern.
Mellary blinked at the elf that was standing next to the abyss. Black hair hung down to her waist, tangled and curled. The tattered remains of a coat hung from her shoulders and her trousers had been shorn at the knee. Her pale feet were bare on the ice. The sleeves had been ripped away, but she didn't seem to mind all the exposed skin. Her fine aristocratic features clashed with her ragged trappings. A least a third of one of her long ears had been ripped away, leaving a rough edge. Her eyes were a deep, absolute obsidian color.
That strange magic that raised the hairs on the back of her next was rolling from the small elf in waves.
"What manner of creature are you?" she asked, walking closer. "Not an elf. Not a human. Not a sorceress. Where do you belong?" She stopped a few feet away, her head tipped towards the side.
Deciding to attempt manners, Mellary opened her mouth.
"No, don't answer that." The elf looked at her, a slow smile spreading across her face. "There's nothing you can say that I do not already know." She waved her hand dismissively.
Mellary frowned. "Who are you?"
"Identity is such a strange thing, is it not?"
"Says the elf out of time," Mellary commented wryly. Her breath crystalized against the fur lining of her coat, and she couldn't help but notice that the air around the elf was clear. Her words conjured no clouds from the frigid air. "I haven't heard a dialect like yours."
"And you are well traveled." It wasn't a question. The knowledge glimmering in the elf's velvet eyes was beginning to unnerve her.
"You don't really belong anywhere, do you?"
Mellary rocked back like she had been slapped. "Why would you say that?"
"It's written all over your soul." The elf closed her eye, slowly rolling her head on her neck.
She is mad, Embrald observed. Those black eyes snapped open, focusing on her with crystal clarity.
No, Mellary said.
The elf crept forward, her bare feet silent on the ice. Mellary met her gaze and sucked in her breath. Brilliant points of light flared across her black eyes, shimmering and shifting in the dim light.
"The stars show me things. Strange things, secret things. I know everything about you." She raised her arms to the ceiling, as rhapsodic look on her face. "I know the secrets of existence itself. What our brethren could only dream about." She giggled.
She's not mad, Mellary said slowly, dread coiling in her stomach. She's Starsighted. Power drunk, inundated with magic until it consumed the mind and addled the wits. It made people careless with power. Mellary knew that intimately.
The elf took a quick step forward, almost brushing against Mellary's coat. She jerked away, her boots rasping against the smooth ice as she backed up.
Too late, she realized her movements had caught her squarely between the power drunk elf and the abyss. Magic swelled from behind her, battering against her shields. At the very edge of her mind, she could hear strange whispers, just outside of her comprehension. She could almost hear what they were saying if she would just listen….
Green fire rolled through her mind as Embrald's magic surged into her, silencing the whispers and snapping the thin threads of magic that had been ensnaring her.
Thanks, Mellary said roughly. The crystals are one of the wellsprings of natural magic, unbound by the Grey People. She's been overwhelmed by their power.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"I have many names," the elf said. "For names are power, and I have power over names. You may call me Wyrda."
Pretentious little thing, isn't she? Embrald commented.
Mellary snorted silently. I never called Oromis 'master'. I refuse to refer to this power-drunk elf witch as 'Fate'.
The elf's eyes narrowed. "You mock me, Meladania?"
Mellary only had time to blink in surprise before chains of pure magic wrapped around her mind. She yelped in surprise as, against her will, her fingers stripped off one of her gloves. Embrald's roar was echoing through her ears as the world sharpened and time seemed to slow. The wild magic had encompassed her, flooded her, and she was powerless to stop it. Her arm came up, palm out. Silver light blazed from the mark on her hand.
The elf glared at her, true hatred flickering through her eyes.
"Rider," she snarled.
The magic released her, draining away all her strength as it did. Mellary slumped down to the ground, her knees unwilling to support her.
A single thought shone in her mind, left there by the magic.
"Raelia," Mellayr croaked. "Your name is Raelia. How do I know that?" Her voice cracked on the last syllable.
Raelia looked at her, one eyebrow raised.
"It would seem that I am not the only one attuned to the magic here. How very interesting, Rider."
If I titled this chapter 'Frozen' or 'Let it Go', how loudly would people groan?