Chapter Twenty Nine

Companions

“I was not waiting for him to take off his shirt” Inerys muttered as she and Ephaxus circled the valley for the third time since returning to the skies.

You were, he said matter-of-factly. You forget, I am in your head.

His amusement practically radiated from him, stoking the embers of her annoyance all the more. Nosey creature. She had had one idle thought weeks ago and ever since, she'd never heard the end of it.

There have been multiple occasions, Ephaxus corrected.

She scowled, cursing the sudden, furious heat rising in her cheeks.

“Will you stay out of my head?”

The wyvern cackled, a pitched, flanging sound that had surely alerted anything below them to their presence. For a moment, she thought she had heard another cry on the wind, but perhaps she was only hearing things. She reached forward and smacked one of his boney plate scales with a gloved hand, for all the good it did. He didn’t so much as flinch. Not that she expected him to, but it made her feel marginally better.

“You’re terrible, you know that?”

False. I am observant.

“I think you mean nosey,” she said, surveying the open meadows flaking the main body of the river below. “Don’t think I don’t hear you and Tanuzet gossiping when you think I’m asleep. Don’t you two have better things to do?”

You underestimate our investment, little one, he said, tongue flickering in the night air. A vampire and a desert prince born with an affinity for the sun - the combination alone is fascinating.

Rolling her eyes, Inerys gave a subtle sniff of her own. However, it wasn’t the scent that alerted her to Ayduin’s presence, it was the faint cast of Vaelor’s shadow in the moonlight. She gave a quick glance over her shoulder, finding the pair descending toward them with surprising speed. Ephaxus pulled up, then slowed to hover, but his wings struggled to keep the correct pacing to keep them aloft. Inerys felt a dull ache in her own lower back, the muscles straining as her spine pinched, sending a sharp pain lancing all the way up through her neck.

Ephaxus yelped, wings faltering. He fanned the lesser set at the base of his tail, along with the wide sailfins at the tip, causing his hind end to catch the air and level off. The pain subsided, but the damage had already been done. He arched his neck and opted to land along the grassy banks of the river, growling his frustration.

Inerys rubbed at her back a moment, fairly certain what she’d felt was a sympathetic echo of Ephaxus’ own pain.

“Are you all right?” She asked, once he settled.

He crawled forward, stretching his hind end out with a low grunt one leg at a time. His tail pulled to either side in an effort to release the tight muscles bunched just above his hips. Then, he tented his wings and shifted his weight back like a waking hound. Inerys kept still for him, not that her weight bore any real consequence to him, flinching when vertebrae and scales alike popped and cracked.

Sometimes, it was easy to forget everyone else had placed their own advancements on hold in order to stabilize her wayward cores. Ayduin and Rhydain had meditated with her, cultivating their own Souls, but the bulk of any essence-rich food had always gone to her. Ephaxus had never made his suffering known, but on occasion, incidents like this reminded her that she was not the only one in need of mending. She only wished she knew how to help him.

When his hips finally popped and released, a relieved groan escaped his maw, breath misting in the cool night air. He shook out his hide, jostling Inerys in the saddle. Her grip tightened, but she made neither complaint nor protest.

“Ephaxus?” she questioned.

I am all right, he said, his massive head swinging around to watch as Vaelor landed beside them.

“What happened?” Ayduin asked.

Vaelor crept closer, inspecting one of Ephaxus’ wings with his snout. His concern was evident enough in his eyes, if not the thoughts he blocked Inerys from reading. The compassion the held for one another never ceased to surprise her.

“Ephaxus’ back gave out,” she replied. “I think we’re fine now. Is everything all right?”

They hadn’t wandered outside of their designated safe zone, so Inerys was fairly certain the woman wasn’t here to scold them. Still, she had the sense the woman was nervous. The realization set Inerys on edge on instinct.

"More or less," she said. "It seems we have a guest."

She and Ephaxus exchanged looks, before a series of traded vocalizations carried across the valley. His head perked up immediately. One voice, she knew to be Tanuzet, but the other was entirely new. Perhaps she really had heard another wyvern earlier. It had been difficult to tell over Ephaxus’ thundering laughter.

"Another Talhavar?" Inerys guessed.

Ialet and her rider, Cydan, Ephaxus said, nostrils whistling.

"Two additional members of our wing, yes," Ayduin said, "Rhydian is guiding them back to camp. We're to meet them there."

"What about the other elk? They're not far-"

"We leave them for now, Red. This is important."

Inerys sighed, staring off in the direction of the herd's scent. She supposed there was always tomorrow, but she still felt the remnant thrill of the hunt singing in her veins. It was a difficult high to quell, ordinarily, though Ephaxus' forced landing had dulled it considerably. She had hoped to down one for him as well. As far as she was concerned, he needed essence as much as she did.

"Are you ready to fly?" She asked, trying to gauge his ambient aura.

When she focused on him long enough, she was able to gardner a decent sense of his condition, but never anything definitive. It was only on rare occasions during moments of heightened physical or emotional distress that she could tell anything for certain without questioning him directly. The same went for Ephaxus’ own experience, from what she gathered.

I will survive, he said, a tad too forced for her tastes.

She expressed her doubts through a subtle emotional nudge. If they needed to wait until he was confident and comfortable once more, so be it. The others could wait.

He stretched one wing, then the other before he shifted his weight back and flapped them both a few times for good measure while remaining on the ground. She sensed his spine loosen and the numbness subside from his shoulders and lower back. His spinal crest flared and he nudged her back with a rush of reassurance.

Ayduin silently watched. "Ready?"

"Ready,” Inerys said with a reluctant nod.

"There's something to consider, before we arrive. Cydan isn't aware of your bond. We're not yet sure how he might react, so try to mind yourself. He's on our side, but having an outsider bond the wyvern of his late friend will be a difficult pill to swallow."

Inerys frowned. "I . . .see."

"With luck, Rhydian would have already broken the news, but I still don't want you walking in blind. Not all Talhavar will be as tolerant of understanding as we are. Best you know now."

She knew their bond had been unorthodox and ill timed, but she had assumed the matter would be resolved in the end. However, now that she had a chance to reflect on it, she realized how naive she'd been. If wyverns were as rare as Rhydian had alluded to, of course the Talhavar would take issue. Even if they weren’t, they were dangerous enough on their own.

“I appreciate the warning,” she said.

With a nod, Ayduin coaxed Vaelor into the sky. Ephaxus followed suit, albeit, at a more ginger pace. At the very least, his upward thrust was strong and his wings didn’t waver. She sensed his stiffness, but there wasn’t much she could do, aside from insisting he rest once they returned to camp.

Though, the prospect of another Talhavar and their wyvern awaiting their arrival made her nervous. What would they make of her? Vampires weren’t exactly well received, she knew, but the man already knew of her, at the very least. Her presence would not be a complete shock. Just her bond with Ephaxus. All she could hope for was some understanding on his part. It wasn’t as if they’d meant to bind one another. Not that it changed much, in the end.

Worry not, little one, Ephaxus said in her mind, Cydan is an honorable man and Ialet will understand. I shall speak with her myself. She will expect an explanation.

“Would you like me to come with you?” Inerys asked.

No, I can handle Ialet on my own. Cydan will likely wish to speak with you as it is.

“You’re probably right,” she sighed.

Soon enough, everyone would be seeking to engage her in conversation. Better to get used to it now. She knew there would be no avoiding the questioning of the Council. Or the Patriarch. Speaking with Cydan may give her a better idea of what to expect, when the time came.

They circled the camp once they arrived, the wyverns searching for the ideal roost among the others. Tanuzet occupied her usual lounge near the treeline at the far edge of camp, her deep green hide and faint striping making her near indistinguishable from the vegetation. A second resided near the opposite edge, monitoring the skies. Ialet, Inerys guessed. Her coloration was similar to Tanuzet, though was more gray in appearance. From what Inerys had noticed, the males tended to be the more brightly colored among the species and also, a hair smaller by comparison. Assuming the wyverns were all around the same age. Among their trio, Tanuzet was the largest.

Ephaxus used a gentle updraft to decelerate and guild down to a soft landing near the edge of camp, rather than flap down in his usual manner. Inerys did not fail to notice his subtle grunt, either. She would be asking the Sages what could be done for his back once they returned to Kresia.

Her breath hitched as she climbed down from the saddle, skin prickling with the attention of the others. She had half a mind to scramble back up to the saddle and flee, but the thought passed quickly. Resisting the urge to bite her lip, she eased her way onto the ground, a small hiss issuing from her wyvern. The man, Cydan, watched them with lightly flared nostrils and an air of apprehension. He rose, stiffly, and made his way over.

Like all other Adai, he towed above her. His height was on par with Rhydian’s, though his bright red hair and lightly tanned skin stood in stark contrast to her two companions. His face was not unkind, but held a hard, reserved edge. His short beard matched his long braid, but held a sprinkling of deeper brown throughout.

He bowed to Ephaxus, his hand over his heart until the wyvern acknowledged him with a soft, familial coo. He craned his long neck, posture easing with his acceptance. Inerys had the feeling something important had passed between them, though she did not know what. Permission, of some sort?

Cydan smiled up at the wyvern, before turning his attention to Inerys. She fidgeted, fingers flexing at her side at his approach. As with Ephaxus, he offered a bow.

“You must be our wayward Soul,” he said, “I am pleased to see you survive. I am Cydan Ethraas. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Inerys Sarithael,” she said, repaying his bow with one of her own, “It’s good to meet you.”

He studied her with eyes that reminded her of Vidaar’s, a pang of longing pricking her heart.

“You look quite different than the last time I saw you. Had I not known who you were, I likely wouldn’t have recognized you,” he said.

“I’ve only caught my reflection in the river a time or two. I likely wouldn’t even recognize myself,” she admitted.

If she ever saw Nan or Vidaar again, she may have to explain who she was. The same went for Alaric. She would be a stranger. Was a stranger.

“You look strong. I’m sure both the Council and your Patriarch will be pleased.”

She shifted her weight from one foot to another, unsure of how to answer.

“I’m relieved to be in one piece.”

“The forest has treated you well. Better than your companions anticipated, I’m sure.”

“Fortunately for us, Inerys possesses a stronger will than most,” Rhydian said, joining the pair.

“I assumed as much, considering she survived her Inheritance,” Cydan said.

Rhydian gestured back toward camp, where the logs they’d used as furniture these long weeks waited beside a low burning fire.

“Shall we discuss recent events?” He asked.

“Please,” Cydan said.

“Did the Council send you?” Ayduin asked.

The man nodded. “The Saeducarian ambassador arrived in the capitol two weeks ago and is eager for an update. As is the Council. They sent me to ensure all was still well with our young vampire.”

“She reached her third Ascension three days ago,” Rhydian said, “She should be stable enough to travel to the capitol now, but we plan to have her evaluated by the Sages to be certain.”

Cydan nodded as he took a seat beside the fire, though his gaze shifted from Inerys, to Ephaxus on more than one occasion. She decided to situate herself between Rhydian and Ayduin, rather than beside their visitor. Not because she was afraid of him, necessarily, but because she sought some sort of familiarity.

“How do you plan on explaining this situation to the Elders?” He asked.

Inerys didn’t have to guess as to which one he was referring to.

“I haven’t decided how to broach the subject, but I intend on telling them the truth,” Rhydian said.

“Which is?”

“That the bond, while accidental at first, was a subconscious effort on both their parts. Both Ephaxus and Inerys were in vulnerable positions when I paired them. I wasn’t aware that the connection could be made without the proper training, but I feel it was necessary nonetheless. If what you told me about Nevaret is true, I believe it was for the best that Ephaxus bonded when he did. We could have lost two wyverns,” he said.

“Wait, Nevaret is dead?” Ayduin asked.

A muscle feathered in Cydan’s jaw as he braced his elbows on his knees, gaze set on the ground.

“She passed last week,” he murmured.

Behind them, Vaelor keened into the night.

Ephaxus’ own grief passed through Inerys in a wave. Tears stung her eyes, her throat tightening. It was an effort not to lose herself to his influence, to be swept up in the tide the wyverns shared. She grit her teeth and took a moment to collect herself by focusing on her cycling.

Ayduin placed a hand to her heart, her eyes closed as she murmured something in a foreign tongue.

Inerys dared to ask, “Was she one of the other wyverns?”

“One of two that were injured during the encounter with the Matriarch,” Cydan answered. “Both had lost their riders during the exchange.”

“Wyverns do not take the death of a partner well,” Rhydian explained. “Most die within a few months, if not days.”

“And most do not bond a new one,” the man added.

“It’s rare, but it does happen,” Ayduin said.

“Rare indeed,” said Cydan, “But I’m not sure the Elders will see things the way you do. Ephaxus’ life may have been spared, but if the Council releases her to the Patriarch, the Sanguine Court gains a wyvern for themselves.”

“One wyvern,” Rhydian said, “and we aren’t even certain they do not have any of their own. We know next to nothing about them or their continent.”

“Still, the Elders may have final say in the matter and it may not be what any of us desire.”

A chill shot through Inerys. “They’re not going to try and kill him, are they?”

“The Elders may have their concerns, but they aren’t stupid,” Rhydian said, “Killing him would only jeopardize Inerys. The bond works both ways. Any damage done to her would be seen as a slight against the Court.”

“They would be risking the wrath of the Patriarch,” Ayduin agreed.

Cydan sighed. “I’m not disagreeing with you. The situation is a delicate one. It has been from the beginning, but the bond changes things.”

“At least one of the Elders will be present in the capitol when we arrive to meet with the Council. The matter will be discussed. I’m certain of it,” Rhydian said.