Page 180 of The Shattered Rite
She forgot she had just been named sovereign.
She forgot she was a dragonrider.
She forgot she had ever been strong.
There was only instinct now—the instinct of survival, the desperate urge to make herself smaller than the chaos battering her.
She felt… helpless.
Vaeronth!Her mind screamed for him, panic clawing.Vaeronth, I can’t—I can’t see—I can’t think—I need you!
I am here.
But his voice was thin, strained.
Her terror sharpened.
Why can’t I feel you? Why do you feel so far away?
A pause. Weighted.
Something cloaks you.
She shook her head frantically. “No! Not now—”
You must anchor. Eliryn—listen to me—something is clouding our bond. I—cannot see you.
She couldn’t breathe.
She pressed her forehead to the cold stone. All her fear from the trials, from the attack, from the endless dark—none of it compared to this. This hollowing emptiness clouding her mind.
A body collided with her, driving her sideways. She choked on a cry as another boot kicked her ribs, whether by accident or design she didn’t know.
Then another scream. Closer. The Flame still burned at the dais and she could feel a spark of it inside her—but she could not see.
She couldn’t move.
I can’t do this, Vaeronth. I can’t do this blind.
You are not blind.His voice frayed.You are a Dragonrider and you will use my eyes.
But she couldn’t remember how to clear her mind and focus enough to do that.
“Eliryn!”
Garic?
She forced her battered body up, scrambling to her knees—reaching, searching for the voice.
Hands closed on her.
Rough. Familiar.
“I’ve got you.”
She gasped. “Garic?”
But the grip was wrong.
