Vanyali Knurla of the Durgrimst Ingentium
Part one
Note: This chapter has been revised as of the 14 July 2009 Due to the kind and helpful comments made by you the readers. :) Hope you like it better than the origional chapter.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters in this story except Vanyali and any other OCS I create
As the star sapphire shattered, Vanyali looked up to the dragon hold. Tears where in her eyes, for it was precious to the dwarves and so to her. She had spent all her life wandering these halls and those of Tarnag with her 'father' when he had the time. This was becoming less and less often, these days. Arya had, had to break it to distract Durza from Eragon. It was yet another sacrifice to the cause. It seemed that this war would take everything, if given the chance. But no-one could afford to give Galbatorix the upper hand, to do so would mean death and slavery. She hoped that it could be repaired and set, when all of this was over. Vanyali knew the dwarves stubbornness would mean that they would attempt to fix their beloved jewel even if it was beyond saving. Heat. Unbearable heat blasted through the dwarven city, as Saphira roasted the surrounding Urgals with her fiery breath. Even her elven endurance had long run out, the humans of the Varden and the dwaves of this fair city were starting to grow weary. And so were becoming clumsy and prone to getting injuries. To late did she notice one of the larger shards of rose colored sapphire falling, with a grace (it seemed) that defied its size. With increasing speed it plummeted towards her. It was all Vanyali could do, to brace herself for the impact of the beloved jewel. The only thoughts to cross her mind were how ironic this was and sadness that she would never see her father or brother again.
Bright light stung her eyes as she struggled to heave herself out of the deep mud of the river bed. Vanyali cursed her luck. Durza would pay, for this had to be of his doing. He had denied her the afterlife, but that had to mean that she wasn't dead. A gloved hand wiped the sweat from her brow from both the fighting and her current actions. In her heart she was well and truly glad. Transporting her from Farthen Dur must have taken a large amount of energy. That would be energy that wouldn't be directed at Eragon, meaning that he had a larger chance of prevailing. As he was the new dragon rider they had waited for, all these years, he needed to be protected as much as possible. It seemed that all their hopes and dreams for the future seemed to depend on him. And if her transportation had saved his life, or helped him to defeat Durza she was ecstatic.
She was disorientated and the stream was cold. Not unbearably cold, as she was of elven kind, but none the less it was not comfortable. A soft breeze pulled at her silver hair (rare among the elves of Du Weldenvarden), straining to lift, the dwarven war braids that she had put in only a few hours ago. Her father had smiled at this Vanyali remembered fondly. He had then pronounced her a true member of the clan. To which everyone else had chuckled, she was part of the family, always had been always would be. Ever since that fateful day on the shoulders of Tarnag when she had been found beside the half eaten corpses of her parents she had become one of them. Dwarves may have hearts of stone but they don't posses hearts made of ice. The trees here, where not of a nature she recognized. They were straight of trunk and the bark the colour of silver. Straining her head upwards she glimpsed the golden leaves of the canopy. At the side of the river bank grew strange flowers in hues of purple and gold. Strange bird calls echoed around her each coming from a different direction and never moving. Vanyali smiled at the obvious fakeness of it all, she doubted that even humans could be deceived by it. Scouts!
Vanyali stretched her arms as far out as she could, up onto the grassy riverbank above her head. If she was not so desperate to get out of the river, she would be laughing at the situation that Durza had gotten her into. She smiled at least she wouldn't be caked in Urgal blood any more. "Concentrate!" Quietly, but sternly she warned herself, listening to the quickening footsteps around her that were closing in. Her hands found a rocky outcrop and she used it to pull herself from the sucking mud that had tried to hold her prisoner in the icy cold river. Pain lanced across her side, as she reached for the hilt of her sword, her axe being too heavy for her to lift in her weakened state. Damn Galbatorix's soldiers for slicing her side with that ugly looking scimitar and damn herself for not being fast enough to deflect the blow. It had happened not long before Arya had broken the star sapphire.
"There are not many Eldar who would choose to bathe in the waters of the Celebrant!" Vanyali shivered uncontrollably, as she drew the sword and dropped into an attack position. Her eyes widened at the sight of the speaker. He was an elf!