OathBlade (Wattys2015)

18. The Great Brewing Storm*

Heavy rain drenched the field again as the group rode toward the bridge. It scrubbed the scent of death and smoke from the air and provided false purity to Leria again. The clouds knitted across the sky in a great, thick blanket and distant peals of thunder warned of heavier storms moving swiftly from the south.

No amount of rain could wash away the horror they'd escaped. Nor could the thunder deafen her to Isandel's last words before they rode away from the lycar clan.

Elery gripped a pair of braided leather reins around her fists, keeping her gaze steadily ahead. Her mind stayed far from the questions which prowled the outermost edges of her attention. Questions that threatened to inject themselves to the forefront of her mind should she let her composure waver.

The soft patter of rain on grass turned loud and hard when the molner set hoof on the bridge. The droplets slammed into the wood, rapping so loudly it masked the sound of the hooves beating against the lumber. Night crept closer as they rode. Once again darkness swept over the land and the storms intensified.

"We cannot ride all night through this!" Cylphi yelled.

Even with Cylphi's voice raised, Elery struggled to hear her. "We have no choice! We've no resting point until the waypoint inn."

Isandel swooped down to fly low above them. So low, should she have chosen to, Elery could have reached up to brush her fingertips against the smooth scales of his underbelly. "The Princess is correct, we cannot stop. Dread energy flares from behind us. Necrocasters have no doubt cast their phantasma once again."

"Can you not do as you once did with Dakkan?" Elery yelled. She sputtered as rain splashed down on her tongue. "He told us of his trip to your den. How he turned back and found himself at the entrance of the tunnel. Can you not transport us?"

"Simply an illusion, Princess. I did not transport him. He walked, afflicted with a powerful hypnosis."

"How much of your power is simple trickery, dragon?" Elery snapped. "I should like to know, before you confess that our fight was an illusion as well!"

"No need to worry, Princess. What you experienced was quite real. If you don't believe me, you can always summon Misani."

She lashed the reins and spurred Ishthemir on. Her eyes stung from raindrops hitting against them, forcing her to squint and narrow her field of vision to a thin line. Steely clouds blotted the moons and stars, darkening their path.

In the cold, dark, wet night Elery thought would never end, anything could have been an enemy in waiting. Knowing this rose the fine hairs on the back of her neck.

They could not see the inn until it was right before them. The lantern above the door swung in the wind, which had picked up steadily until it meant traveling could prove deadly.

By then Elery could feel the swell of darkness of which Isandel spoke. It was like a claw around her chest, squeezing the air from her lungs.

The wind-beaten group sheltered the molner behind the inn and filled the food and water troughs, then retreated inside. The innkeeper lay sleeping on a cot behind the desk.

"I'd hate to wake him," Cylphi said.

"Take the others up to the rooms to dry off. Keep Dakkan out of sight; I don't know how welcome his presence would be."

Cylphi, Zethir, Taelin, and Dakkan walked upstairs, dripping water on the hardwood floor.

Isandel, again in his seryn/dragon hybrid form, stood beside Elery and pushed his drenched hair from his face. How he continued to re-emerge from his dragon form with his strange robes she could not guess. For the moment she was too preoccupied to ask.