Ismira Stronghammer, son of Roran and Katrina, sighed and settled back into her chair. There were many benefits to being a Dragon Rider, she reflected, but these meetings were not one of them.
Her dragon, Farneth, grumpily agreed, watching through her eyes from the courtyard outside. Her purple companion attempted to convince her to leave and go flying, but the sudden interruption from Nasuada, Queen of Algäesia, stopped her. All eyes turned to the Leader of the Varden, as she was still known to many of the older Riders, as she banged the table to get their attention.
"Citizens of Algäesia, we must now start our annual meeting. I would first introduce some important figures in our crowd. We have King Orlen of Surda, due to Orrin's death earlier in the year. We greet this new ruler, and hope he will be a worthy leader."
Many heads nodded to Orrin's son, before turning back to the Queen.
"Then we have King Orik of the Dwarves, Nar Garzhvog of the Urgals, and Rider Queen Arya of the Elves."
Ismira glanced over at the Elven Queen. She had liked her initially, and still respected her swordsmanship and loyalty to her people. However, Ismira had become very close with her Uncle while learning to be a Rider, and had learned of their strained relationship. The pair had not seen each other for around 23 years. Ismira knew that her Uncle Eragon still loved the elf, so she had no one to blame but her. She silently wondered why Arya had not gone to see him.
Farneth agreed, murmuring, Saphira told me that they had been great friends. Certainly Firnen would have wanted to see Silvertongue, and as it was always unlikely that Ebrithil would ever return to Algäesia, it must have been the elf who ended their friendship. Surely they could not still be friends after 20 years of no contact.
Ismira pondered her dragon's words as Nasuada continued to introduce the many Riders in attendance. There were over 30, though their dragons all waited outside the meeting hall. Every Rider nodded as their name was called. Many looked bored already. The life of a Rider did not call those who enjoyed meetings, and, glancing around at the blank stares many had adopted, some were just talking to their Dragons rather than listening. Ismira wondered how Arya coped with the duties of being Queen.
Suddenly, Nasuada finished the introductions and turned serious.
"First off, there have been many reports of murders and looting in the area near the Spine and Beor Mountains." Ismira sat up at the mention of her home region. "Many Riders have reported extensive violence in the area, and civil unrest. Roran Stronghammer, leader of Carvahall, also reported a rise in the number of deaths of travellers in the Spine. Last week, a number of villages were entirely wiped out. I have brought forward the only witness of one of the mass killings, as he was the only man that survived in the village of Oronbaen."
At a motion from the Queen, a man was lead into the chamber. He was unarmed and wearing ragged clothing, and Ismira did not recognize him. However, many did. Arya, Orik and Nar Garzhvog all stood and drew their weapons, and several of the long-lived elves stood also.
At a low growl of, "Murtagh..." from the Elven Queen, the Riders stood as one.
"Peace, PEACE!" Nasuada shouted. "He is here to help us!"
The monarchs and Riders reluctantly returned to their seats, but remained wary.
The Red Rider bowed to each leader before starting his account. Instead of looking amused at the havoc he had caused, the man seemed tired and worried.
"Me and Thorn were staying in a cave near Oronbaen. I was traveling down in the evening to trade, when I heard screaming. I ran to the village to find heaps of dead bodies; men, women and children alike. A group of kids stood in the centre of the village, armed with sticks, looking terrified. I went to join them, but before I could a black shadow tore through the group. This shadow was dark, like the pits of Hell, and it did no more than pass over the children, but it left them dead. It came for me but I threw up every defensive spell I have and it left me alone. I ran back to Thorn and we tracked it, but were always too late to save the people. We lost the trail around Dormenger, the valley across from the Beor Mountains."
There was silence in the hall. Even Farneth was stunned.
"Do any of the Riders know of such a beast?" called out Orik, worried for his people.
All shook their heads.
Shadeslayer and Flametongue would know.
Ismira couldn't help but agree with her dragon. Her Uncle had always known what to do.
He's half way across the ocean Farneth. Seven more towns could be decimated before we reach him. No, we must do this. We must stop it or die trying.
All the Riders looked like round doubtfully at each other. The same thought had obviously just reached them. They would have to fight it. To save Algäegsia from this new threat, just like her Uncle had done during the war. They would have to be brave and attempt the impossible.
Silence ruled the chamber.
Orik tried once more. "So, does no one know what it could be?"
The great oak doors opened, and a figure stepped through. "It was once known as the Black Shadow. A force to be reckoned with, as it cannot be stopped with weapons. The Riders of old banished it to a prison, deep under Vroengard, but the wards have worn thin, and it has escaped. Luckily, I know the spell to trap it." The man called out in a clear voice.
Before the man had even stepped forward into the light, Ismira recognized him. "Uncle!" She called out as he came into view, but Arya had been quicker. As soon as Eragon began speaking, she had stood and jumped over the table towards him.
Her Uncle Eragon wore his customary brown trousers and boots, with a blue tunic to represent Saphira. His brown hair was ruffled and slightly wind-swept. While all of the Riders had looked worried and serious, his chocolate brown eyes showed kindness and warmth. His expression calmed her. He had always been able to solve any problem. Her Uncle Eragon was here now. Algäesia was safe.
She felt a twinge of unease watching Arya run towards him, thinking of her dragon's earlier words about their relationship. However, it seemed their friendship was just as strong as it had been 23 years ago when Eragon had left.
Her Uncle opened his arms and Arya flew into him, forcing him a step back. The elf buried her head into his shoulder, and his strong arms wrapped around her. His chocolate eyes closed as he bent his head down towards her ear. Ismira's enhanced hearing enabled her to hear her Uncle's whispered words. "I'm so sorry Arya. I never should have left. Forgive me?" And then he whispered a word that she couldn't catch, and Arya shivered against him. She replied with another word, and he seemed to wriggle in reply.
Arya raised her head to grin at her Uncle, who had no eyes for the Riders who had stood, or his Queen, his adopted brother or his niece, only for her.
He returned the grin and brought his smiling lips down onto hers.
Ismira heard two dragons trumpet outside in triumph, before the green and blue jewels soared past the window and spiralled upwards above the clouds for their own reunion.
Luckily Eragon and Arya parted before they were influenced by their dragons' emotions.
Arya suddenly seemed to remember where they were and who was present, and, too embarrassed to confront them, buried her face in Eragon's blue shirt.
Her Uncle had no such qualms, and looked over her head to greet everyone. He smiled when he saw Ismira, and laughed when Orik asked him to pay up on a wager they had made many years back. Then his eyes registered Murtagh.
Ismira was about to reassure her Uncle of his side in this, assuming that he would feel the same about this man as the others had. However, Eragon actually smiled, nodded and acknowledged him. "Brother."
The Red Rider smiled back. "Brother. Good to see you back home; it's way past your bed time. You've been out far too long."
Her Uncle snorted at the comparison, and suddenly became Ebrithil once more. Ismira could see how he had acquired the names Shadeslayer and Argetlam as he directed his Riders as if he'd been planning battles his whole life. Ismira supposed he had had practice, though the effect was spoiled somewhat by the elf with her face against his chest.
He seemed to notice how awkward Arya was, and took leave, pulling the elf with him.
None of the monarchs seemed to mind that he had left momentarily. Now that Eragon Bromsson had returned to his homeland, Algäesia was safe once more.
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