I usually don't post such short stories, but I found this in my documents file. Apparently I'd written it forever ago and rather forgotten. If you have an opinion on this story, please tell me.
"So how is Arya?"
Eragon flashed Angela an irritated glance. "How am I supposed to know?"
Angela smirked and cocked her head to the side, sending her corkscrew curls bouncing. "I can't see the noble Rider leaving the woman he loves alone during such dangerous times." She winked mischievously.
Eragon barely concealed his astonishment. "Arya?" He feigned incredulity.
"Do you take me for a fool?" She demanded. "No, on second thought don't answer that; I don't want to know. I am the person who cast your future, Eragon."
"And what makes you think that Arya fits that prediction?" Eragon groaned inwardly. If there was a list of all the people that he didn't want to know the truth about this, Angela would be near the top.
"Alagaesia has a fairly slim selection of beautiful, powerful, and wise women of noble birth. Assuming you don't want someone who will die of old age before you turn around twice, you can't marry a human. Dwarves are just plain ugly, and I never thought you were the type to fall in love with an animal species. That leaves the elves and maybe a Rider or two. Now Murtagh doesn't seem your style and neither does Galbatorix. So we have the elves. Currently I'd estimate their number of nobility at about 50, give or take a dozen. Most are millennia old or already have a mate. Therefore, by process of elimination, I can say with confidence that it is Arya that you do or will love."
He stared at her in shock. Desperate to dissuade her, he spluttered, "What makes you think that she's even from Alagaesia? You said that I would leave someday, so I might find her in another land."
"No," she replied sanguinely, "'Beautiful beyond compare.' You would compare any other woman to her, thereby negating one of the qualifications."
"You gave that way too much thought," responded Eragon after a moment.
"So I'm right, then." Angela smirked again. "How goes it then, Shadeslayer?"
Eragon gave up. "She thinks I'm too young."
"What is time to an elf?" Angela paused for a moment as Solembum strolled up. The werecat turned a lazy and amused expression to Eragon.
Ah, the troubles of an adolescent boy unlucky in love.
Eragon felt his face flush.
You should give some thought to your true name.
I have, replied Eragon sullenly, finding Solembum's amusement offensive. But I honestly have no idea what it might be.
You must know yourself before you can know your enemy. Do you think that Galbatorix doesn't know his true name?
Is it really that important?
Yes. Solembum replied carelessly, stretching and arching his back. Without it you will have no chance against Galbotorix and Alagaesia will be ruled by him forevermore. He turned and left the sunny clearing, stepping lazily into the forest shadows.
"Great," muttered Eragon.
Angela looked after Solembum pensively. "You should probably pay a good deal of attention to whatever he just told you. He's been out of sorts for a while now. But where was I...?" She trailed off and mumbled to herself for a moment. "Oh yes, I remember now. Don't worry about Arya. She'll come around."
"You don't know Arya."
"Perhaps not," she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back slightly as if to study him carefully. "But I do know two things. One is that dragon knucklebones are never wrong. And the second is that I have a very good command of this language and an excellent vocabulary." Her smile suddenly became quite smug. "I promised you an epic romance, Eragon, and an epic romance you shall get. I hardly think that unrequited love qualifies."
He stood there, gaping in disbelief. "Wha-… How…?"
"Just give it a bit of time," she replied, turning to go, "You never know with an elf. It could be tomorrow or two centuries from now. Dragon knucklebones never lie. And shut your mouth because you remind me of a very unattractive fish I once ate with your jaw hanging open like that."
