CHAPTER ONE: Fate and a Shade
Two young elves, each only around one-hundred years old, stood huddled together in the wreckage of the once-great city of Ellesméra, each with a sleeping child in their arms. All around them were the remains of magnificent tree-homes that had taken years to sing, no longer a work of art, but charred corpses, crimson with their dead inhabitant's blood. A mournful cry from further in Du Weldenvarden - Nädindel perhaps, or Sílthrim – blended with other voices from elsewhere in the forest to create a melody reminiscent of a funeral dirge as the few surviving elves bemoaned the loss of their city and homes.
But the last two elves of Ellesméra, Kaiyn and Ayasha, had no time to join in lamentations of the past; the couple knew only worse was in the future, and the Alagaësia of old was at stake, the Alagaësia of the Riders. Briefly, they both thought of the Rider Eragon, and how Alagaësia had prospered when he had ruled the Riders.
A cold north wind howled as it blew through the fallen trees, a sound as eerie as the elven voices raised in sorrowful song. The hair rose on Kaiyn's neck; eyes narrowed in anger, he turned to the slender figure beside him.
"Ayasha… She's coming," he whispered.
"This soon? It was predicted that -"
"Damn the predictions, I can sense her! You know you can't help but feel her coming."
Ayasha laughed bitterly, conscious of the Shade now, aware of the grim irony in the situation. While she knew he was coming, there was still no escape from wyrda, no escape from fate. She nodded slowly, a tear leaving a shining trail down her cheek. "…Right. I'll take Terran and you get Laiya ready. They have to survive; be quick."
"I know as well as you do the need. You hurry."
"Iam hurrying. The thrice-cursed Shade will be here in moments. I think I would be hurrying!"
"Aya…"
She sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Oh Kaiyn, I'm sorry, I'm just tense and we're running out of time. If you want to put a note or something in the baskets, do it. But…quickly."
"Yes. This is it, I suppose."
"Eh, at least we got a full five years; most don't."
"No…it would have been five tomorrow…and she's coming now. If you want to bid them farewell, this is the time."
"Obviously. Oh Terran, Laiya, Mommy loves you so-o much; Daddy and Mommy are going to miss you…oh, so much…" The tears fell faster down Ayasha's face; she did not bother to wipe them away.
"Ha-ha, I'm going to cry too. Of all times…"
Kaiyn gently took the children, already safe in the baskets, from his sobbing wife. Searching his mind for the right words in the Ancient Language, he added a blessing - Atra guliä un ilian tauthr ono un atra ono waíse sköliro fra rauthr, baen, un haina. – then in a blinding red flash of light the baskets were gone. Kaiyn wrapped an arm around Ayasha's waist and she slowly stopped shaking. He gently kissed away her last tear, bringing a smile to her face.
"I love you…I love you, baby…"
"I know, I know, I love you too, Kaiyn. I always have…"
His arm tightened briefly about her. "It's happened to others. We should be proud to give our lives for Alagaësia."
Ayasha turned to him, face frantic. "But what if it's not them?! What if this is for nothing? What if…what if this didn't have to happen?! Then Ellesméra was destroyed for nothing? What if –"
Kaiyn put a finger to her lips, smiling faintly. "You know as well as I she would have come anyway; besides, what if it is Terran and Laiya? Eh? What then?"
Ayasha started to respond, but before she could open her mouth she spotted the shadowed figure moving closer. She couldn't talk, her mouth dry with fear, but Kaiyn saw her ashen face and followed her gaze to a figure cloaked in shadow could only be the Shade. It was time.
He swept his wife into his arms, kissing her passionately for what would surely be the last time. He felt her rigid body relax as he held her and wished it could have been only him that had to be there, only him that had to face this horror. But it was too late, and if he had to die, he wanted to die with her against him.
And then the Shade was there. Colorless eyes examined the scene: Two elves stood locked in an embrace, surrounded by the rubble of Ellesméra, a few sparks still carried on the wind. But there were no twins. The Shade needed to ask no questions to know that. She paused for a second, thinking how funny it was that, while children were rare among the elves, this couple had been cursed with twins. And these elves would die for defying the wishes of King Sharauth.
Ayasha heard the sound of metal on metal, sword on sheath, behind her. But she did not need to look, for she knew the sound for what it was: her death.
The Shade drew her sword, a blade the rusty color of old blood. She hesitated, looking around one last time for the children, but there were still no results. The Shade walked up behind the oblivious couple; she thrust forward, the sword passing through the chest of both. She quickly withdrew the weapon, face expressionless as the elves fell to the ground as one. The Shade frowned; something about the image disturbed her. Realizing what it was, she stepped forward, smashing her booted foot between their faces and breaking them apart. Smiling slightly, the Shade stepped back, gliding away from the ruin of Ellesméra, a single goal in mind: find the children and destroy them, utterly and completely. She had never failed before; this would not be the first time. Those in her service would have these twins before next dawn. And they would face the same fate as their parents.