OathBlade (Wattys2015)

42. Seedling*

"Misani has a voice," Zethir said. "Can she not teach Elery? Granted we have some time, and the ability, but the largest block we casters have always faced is the inability to converse with the spirits as we do with each other."

Isandel shook his head. "Could you explain the most basic functions of your existence to a being that does not understand them? Perhaps dreaming? Forming thoughts? What language would you use for one who does not understand? Misani could explain the great intricacies of casting, but for one who has never done it those explanations would be useless. So far the princess knows only to react defensively. She's shown this to me twice now. She must learn to consciously control and direct, rather than allow her instinct to rule. Especially when such instincts only come in times of great danger."

A loud boom echoed through the fort and Dakkan raised his head. His lips drew back in a snarl.

Elery turned her head but could see nothing but the mist of the barrier. As another crash resounded through the fort she flinched. The mist cleared just enough to see the broad chest of a dragon against the barrier.

"Easy," Cylphi said as she put her hand on Elery's back. "Brute force will not cause this barrier to fall. We are safe."

"For the moment," Isandel said. "You'd do best not to grow complacent. They may not be capable of bringing the barrier down by force, but the casters cannot hold it forever. These seryn do not sit upon a constant stream of etherium as those guarding my forest were. Once their stores are depleted the barrier will fall."

"There is a training hall in the east wing for casters," Cylphi said. "Come, they should have ample supplies."

Elery tried to stand but the tension of her muscles caused a spasm through her shoulder. She cried out and collapsed back to the bed.

"Pain will be a hindrance," Isandel said. He stood and paced the floor, then stopped after several steps. "Do training halls typically possess medicinal seeds?"

Cylphi nodded. "Quite often. They are used to aid beginners who cannot handle vines."

"Come." He took her hand. "Help me gather whatever might be of use for pain and swelling."

Elery noted the brief discomfort that flitted across Cylphi's delicate features as she stumbled from the room with him. It was a look that brought a smile to Elery's face despite the pain and throbbing in her shoulder.

"He doesn't seem quite the same as when we left him," Zethir said as he placed an arm around Taelin's shoulders. "What did you do to him, Elery?"

She looked toward the door. "I can think of nothing special, though...perhaps he is simply showing more of his true self." She looked to the rags on her shoulder. They remained frozen even against her warm skin. "The cold is beginning to cause as much pain as the injury."

"It cannot be helped," Taelin said. "Bear it for a while longer. Once the area is numb we will remove it."

The treatment seemed as horrible as the injury itself compared to the care soldiers were given in Lyewryn. It seemed strange, somehow impossible, that cold and pressure could do anything to aid in healing. Still, she could not bring herself to doubt Taelin. Living as he had, devoid of the luxuries she took for granted, he'd learned far more than she had the capacity to imagine.

Dakkan approached the window and thrashed his tail, staring at something beyond her sight. His thick toes flexed and his claws scratched furrows in the floor. It was an action she might have once reprimanded. Instead she remained silent and allowed him to keep watch undisturbed.

Time wore on, counted in thundering clashes of dragon against barrier. No one spoke, as if the sounds of impact left them hypnotized. They played a song of impending death for all those who listened.