Chapter Forty-One

There's Always Something Else

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That night, everyone had received their own, personalized lecture.

Inerys sat upon one of the two cots within the sage’s medical tent, ears still ringing from her own recent scolding. She was a woman grown and yet in the span of a few short minutes, she’d been reduced to some obedient, reprimanded child. Sorisanna hadn’t even raised her voice. Hadn’t needed to. In truth, she was frighteningly similar to Nan in that regard and the shame Inerys felt was all the deeper for it.

After learning the sage had indeed drugged a certain firstrider in order to ensure his rest, she wasn’t eager to test her own limits any further. So, she sat and waited while Sorisanna prepared a medicinal tea and riffled through her chest of books. What the woman was searching for was beyond her, but whatever it was must have been important. The muttered, incoherent curses indicated as much when she didn’t immediately find it. Inerys thought to offer her assistance, but quickly thought better of it.

Instead of tapping her foot or toying with the cuffs of her sleeves, she decided to actively cycle in order to pass the time and take her mind off the incessant desire to find Ephaxus. She shifted between techniques at regular intervals, doing so with far more fluidity than she’d been able to achieve before her latest advancement. Her essence flow was strong and sure and maintained a steady passive current she no longer needed to tend. There was no pain either. The dull, consistent aches were gone. She hesitated to say she felt normal again, what with the profound changes she’d incurred, but perhaps something akin to it.

“Finally,” Sorisanna muttered. Straightening, she ran a hand along the cover of her leather bound tome, “You’re not where I left you.”

“Is everything all right?” Inerys asked.

“Hmm? Oh– more or less. My trunk is just a bit out of sorts.”

She dared a peek, noting the perfect disarray she’d come to associate with the sage.

Sorisanna glowered, “Believe it or not, I do have an order to things.”

“I wasn’t suggesting otherwise.”

“You’re giving me that same look Rhydian does.”

“I’m sorry?” She tried.

“It’s fine,” she sighed, tucking the book under an arm as she ran her fingers through the loose curls framing her face, “It’s just been one of those days. I probably set it aside without thinking while searching for something else.”

“I didn’t mean to add to the chaos.”

“Don’t worry too much about it. The past few days have been hard on us all. It’s hardly the first time things have gone awry around you and I’m sure it won’t be the last.”

Inerys was inclined to agree.

“Cydan says I keep things interesting,” she said, attempting to ease some of the tension.

“Some might say you do an awfully good job too,” Sorisanna said, patting her book as she took a seat beside her on the cot, “I started a record to keep it all straight when you first arrived.”

“You did?”

She couldn’t say she was entirely surprised, given how thorough the woman was when it came to most everything involving her craft.

“Have a look,” she said, offering it to her.

Tilting her head, Inerys thumbed through the first few pages. Most were introductory notes and basic observations regarding her fever and pallor. Though, such quickly changed after she regained consciousness. There were intricate drawings of her claws, fangs and jaw, the accompanying observations posing theories as to how everything worked, connected and functioned. Shy of dissecting Inerys outright, speculation was all the woman had. Even so, her documentation was remarkable, her penmanship excellent. She was a tad jealous of the latter, really. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d had to write anything. Her skills were likely no better than a child’s.

“You haven’t missed a single detail, have you?” She asked, amazed.

And only a touch disturbed.

The woman knew more about her than she did, apparently.

“It pays to be exhaustive. You never know what might be important or what you might have missed in the moment.”

“I see your point,” she said, skimming and rereading certain sections, “You really think my venom could be used as a field anesthetic?”

“Mmhmm. You, my dear little vampire, may just bring about the next medical advancement.”

“Vampire? Is that what we’ve decided to call me?”

“Vesryn’s convinced it's the name of the species you belong to and from what I understand, the Wardeness all but confirmed it to Rhydian during their last meeting. I’ve been picking his brain on the matter, but he's been a bit scattered recently.”

Some of Rhydian’s memories were still hazy and incomplete, but the term sounded vaguely familiar. His meetings with the Wardeness had grown entangled and challenging to separate. She should have the answers she sought, but she simply couldn’t access them.

“Scattered? How do you mean?”

“It’s difficult to explain. For the most part, he still seems like himself, but every now and again, Vesryn gets this hazy look and suddenly can’t remember things. Like the other day, for instance. I asked him how he knew what you were, but he couldn’t give me a straight answer. I thought he may have been tired, so I let the matter be for a few days. When I asked again, the same thing happened, only with a slightly different explanation,” she said, brow furrowed, “I fear the stress may have triggered some sort of mental decline. I was planning on talking to him about it, but I don’t know how to broach the subject.”

“I’m sorry,” Inerys murmured, “I had no idea. He seems well enough whenever I see him, but it’s only ever in passing. Has this sort of thing happened before?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest. I’ve been trying to remember if there was anything out of the ordinary prior to us coming here. He was more reserved after everything happened at Mistwatch, but it didn’t strike me as odd at the time. We were grieving, so we were all a bit out of sorts.”

“Do you think it might pass? Once all of this is over, I mean?”

“It’s possible, but mental afflictions are hardly my area of expertise. I was trained to mend bodies, not minds. Even if I was, I don’t think there’s anything I can do about it until we reach Cyllicia.”

“Which we can’t leave for until I get a better handle on myself?”

Sorisanna nodded.

Sighing, Inerys rubbed at her temple, “I’m not sure I’m ready to face whatever’s hiding behind those shackles.”

“I can only imagine how intimidating it must be,” she said, placing a warm hand upon hers, “But we’re here to help you through it. I promise. You’ve faced the hardest part already and come out the otherside, no?”

Her gaze fell to their hands, studying the golden scars lacing her fingers. Beneath Sorisanna’s smooth, unmarked skin, they appeared utterly out of place. More like a painting, than actual flesh.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“I guess I have,” she said.

“We’ll take the next few days to rest. After that, we can begin preparations.”

“But–”

“No buts. You’ll take the time to settle into this new body of yours, which means nothing physically strenuous or new until I say otherwise.”

“I just sprinted who knows how far without issue,” she argued.

“And nearly got yourself eaten in the process. Your coordination is impressive, I’ll give you that, but proper acclimation takes time. I have plenty of other tasks to keep you busy in the meantime, but I will give you the firstrider treatment if I have to.”

Inerys narrowed her eyes, “You wouldn’t. You’re bluffing.”

“Are you willing to test that theory?” Sorisanna asked, pointedly crossing her arms.

She held the sage’s gaze, debating. For all the effort it had taken to process the drake, she still had energy to spare. It thrummed in her veins, aching to be used. This body was whole and strong and she would be lying if she claimed she was not anxious to see what more it could do. The feats she’d achieved tonight, natural as they had been in the heat of the moment, were of the sort her former self could only dream of. How was she supposed to spend days idling about?

Sorisanna, for her part, simply stared right back, daring her to pursue the subject further and dig her own grave. Inerys muttered something under her breath. Sorisanna was a sage, after all. She supposed she did know best when it came to these sorts of things.

“Fine, I’ll take things easy. Am I allowed to go out for walks, at least?”

She had to do something other than laze about all night until Sorisanna said otherwise.

“With someone accompanying you, yes.”

She breathed a sigh of relief, not about to argue the stipulation.

“Do wyverns count?”

“Don’t be silly, of course they do.”

Well, in that case she’d be inviting Ephaxus to accompany her. For whatever reason, she’d had a certain underlying anxiety ever since they’d parted ways. She imagined it had something to do with the fact he’d saved her. A walk might help steady her nerves, provided they could find the right trail. His size wasn’t conducive to most hikes or other ground treks.

“You already have someone in mind, don’t you?” Sorisanna asked.

“Is it that obvious?”

“You have a certain look about you, that’s all.”

“He saved my life out there, it’s hard not to think about. Besides, he’s good company.”

She crossed one leg over the other, hands settling over the book after Inerys returned it.

“He is,” she agreed, “I still can’t thank you enough for the effort you’ve gone through. It’s made quite a difference.”

Inerys didn’t think she deserved such praise, but she nodded.

“It was easy, once I saw him as a person and not some monster.”

The sage fell silent for a moment before asking, “What did Ayduin have to say about the matter?”

“Not as much as I thought she might,” she admitted, “She wasn’t pleased, but I’m still breathing. That has to count for something, right?”

“If that’s the case, she handled it better than I expected. She’s always had a temper.”

“Honestly? I’m just as surprised as you are. I wasn’t really a part of the conversation, but I think she and Ephaxus reached some sort of understanding.”

“That’s good,” she said, then bit her lip, “When you can, you should talk to Rhydian. He’ll be out for the next day or two, but he’ll want to hear of this.”

“I know,” Inerys said, beginning to toy with her fingers.

They had plenty to discuss already. She’d planned on telling him for weeks now, but after all that had happened within the last few days, her dealings with Ephaxus seemed little more than a paltry footnote. If he was willing to forgive her for feeding from him, surely he wouldn’t be too upset over her sneaking out every night?

“You’ll be glad you did,” Sorisanna assured.

“I’m not offering myself up for another lecture, am I?”

“Hardly. It will be good to clear the air, though. Make sure we’re all on the same page going forward.”

With an unknown future looming on the horizon, they would be her only allies. Despite everything, she trusted them. Trusted Rhydian. These people were her friends and keeping secrets from them would only jeopardize what they’d built.

For the briefest of moments, Inerys considered telling Sorisanna about her passenger. Would she have an answer as to what it might be or where it may have come from? If anyone could, it would be her. Perhaps she’d even have a way to help rid her of it entirely.

She sensed it along the periphery of her being, curling its spindly, shadowy legs in response to her thoughts. There was worry, there. Fear, even. Revealing its existence could be dangerous for them both. What if shedding light upon it somehow made things worse?

Perhaps now was not the best time for such things.

“I’ll seek him out once he’s awake and feeling better,” She said, studiously ignoring her unwelcome guest and dismissing any thoughts related to it.

“It’s for the best,” Sorisanna said, rising, “Now, are you ready for your next round of shackles or would you prefer to wait?”

Taking a deep breath, Inerys made to stretch out along the cot.

“Do your worst.”

~*~

Half an hour later, Inerys was curled up beside the fire, sipping her recovery tea. Ephaxus’ snout rested beside her in much the same fashion Vaelor and Inet’s did beside their respective bondmates. His presence soothed her, but unfortunately did little to sway the ache around her core. She rubbed at it from time to time, cursing the shackles.

At least you are no longer coming apart at your seams, Ephaxus said.

It still hurts, she muttered back.

You will live.

For a while longer, at least.

He audibly snorted, drawing a raised eyebrow from Ayduin.

“Sorry,” Inerys said, “You were saying?”

Admittedly, her mind had wandered away from the conversation. Adyuin had been filling Cydan in on the details of their impromptu excursion, so doing so had been rather easy. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t heard or experienced a majority of the developments already.

“That instead of waiting around for the Wardeness, who may or may not see fit to share anything with us, we should test your little blood memories ourselves. I’m hesitant to say they were a fluke, but we should see if they happen again the next time you feed,” Ayduin said.

“To see for certain,” Cydan clarified.

Inerys glanced between them, unsure if she liked this particular line of thought.

“Right,” she said, drawing out the word, “Please tell me you’re not expecting me to bite anyone else?”

“No, no. We were thinking of testing it out on the drake’s blood, actually,” he said, “Seeing as how you haven’t had any yet.”

“No bone-crunching required,” Ayduin hummed.

Inerys grimaced and shot the woman a small glare.

She only smiled back.

“We’re testing more than the ability itself, aren’t we?” She asked.

The two exchanged looks, Cydan being the first to speak up.

“We’re curious to see if they’re something you might be able to control or glean specifics from. They seemed spontaneous, aimless, from what Ayduin’s told me.”

“If there was a rhyme or reason to them, I didn’t see it.”

“Yes, but what if you could?” He asked.

“I suppose I could see it being useful, but I doubt anyone is going to let me take a nibble once they learn what I can do.”

Ayduin shrugged. “Simple. Don’t tell them. The knowledge doesn’t have to spread beyond us.”

“She has a point, but that’s not exactly what I’m saying. We’re not asking you to become some sort of spy, we just want to see what you can do.”

“You’re awfully interested in all this,” Inerys said.

“I’m surprised you aren’t.”

“Being inside someone else’s head isn’t all that fun. To say it’s disorienting is putting it mildly. I was more than just inside Rhydian’s head, I was him.”

“But that makes it all the more fascinating.”

Inerys groaned and rested her head back against the log she’d propped herself up against.

Ayduin nudged her with an elbow.

“Don’t tell me there isn’t a part of you that isn’t curious?” She said.

Inerys only huffed. There was, but the stubborn part of her didn’t want to admit it. Exploring the changes to her physique were one thing, but this was something else entirely.

“There’s a high chance you’re going to encounter the memories regardless, right? If you learn to control them, maybe you can learn to keep them at bay?”

She paused, for they would happen again, wouldn’t they? She’d go through the same dizzying experience every time she fed. Spirits, but she was growing tired of this. Was a break too much to ask for?