Say it.
Say what? Eragon asked. The sapphire dragoness looked down at her rider and glared.
You know what. I was right. Say it. He turned away to stare at the vast blackened soil where his former village used to remain. Burnt pieces of lumber lay in crumpled masses where huts and markets used to stand and all vegatation around it was completely decimated. Roran, who was to the left of Eragon, placed his hands on his hips and shook his head; he could tell it was going to be a long day of work.
I'm waiting, Rider. Eragon groaned and muttered a swear.
"Alright," he spoke aloud. "The task seemed easier to say, and not to do."
Well, Saphira replied smartly, I was expecting an apology for doubting me, considering I used to hunt around here numerous times. I suppose that your remark is close enough. She chuckled amongst herself and slid down to her paws so Roran and Eragon could remove the pack of tools from her saddle.
Why must you torment me? Eragon asked, untying the few knots that held the pack against the saddle.
Because I love you, she replied smugly. Now hurry and get all these things off of me. I think the straps are starting to wear on my scales.
And you say I whine?
All the time, she shot back wittily. I'm surprised you didn't when it came to starting work in Carvahall.
I was raised here, Eragon argued. He loosened the strap that held the saddle on Saphira's back and pushed it off of her and onto the ground to her right. Saphira stood up on all fours and stretched her back in a sign of relief.
Ah, but when it comes to the time to clean our home in Ellesmera, you whine more than any youngling this side of Alageasia. Roran, sensing his cousin was involved in another conversation, decided to step away and begin clearing the way for the other helpers who were due to arrive shortly. Eragon was on his own in this debate, but neither he nor Saphira was willing to back away.
Well if you didn't leave your scales lying around on the floor, it wouldn't be so terrible.
My scales are not the problem, she replied calmly. It is the reeking stench of the clothing you wore two weeks ago that are still lying in a pile almost directly below my nose. I'm surprised that those tunics you've worn haven't gotten up to walk down to the lake themselves. She chuckled at her comment and let out a sigh. Shall we just call a truce for the rest of the day?
Yes, but we both know it won't last past the evening. Eragon crouched down and removed a hammer from the pack of tools. So, are you going to help us?
How? I've seen your accuracy with a hammer and I refuse to hold a nail for you. Now Roran, he uses hammers as a weapon. I'd figure accuracy is a bit better on his side of the field.
Traitor, Eragon joked.
You may say so, but I rely on reason, not relation. She gazed at Eragon and showed her teeth. What else could there be for a dragon to do, anyways? Besides, more workers are supposed to arrive in just a few moments. I know I don't say this much, but wouldn't I just slow progress? Eragon couldn't help but smile.
"Very well, Saphira," he told her out loud. "You can do what you'd like, but tell me before you leave this place."
Of course. With that said, Saphira padded away to wander on her own.
"Eragon!" Roran called out from a few meters away. "The wood's here. We can get started on the frames of the houses and the other workers can help us lift them up when they arrive." A horse-drawn carriage rolled up beside Roran, and the operator dismounted his seat and clasped his right hand into his.
"Just as you ordered, Roran," the man said. "Our woodsman gathered for a long time to get all of this. We cut the lengths you requested too. Where are you going to begin?"
"Right here, sir," Roran replied. "These are the frames. The Shadeslayer and I will attach the frames and the other workers will aid us to lift them up and fill them in." Eragon finally made it to Roran's side and reached out to take the deliverer's hand for a shake.
"You two have plenty work to do, I see," he gathered from the look of the charred and broken village. "There is a caravan of people making their way up the Eastern trail and towards you, but it will take them longer than it took me. Horse is faster than foot."
And dragon is faster than horse, Saphira couldn't help but comment to Eragon. The young rider turned around to see Saphira already standing beside the carriage. Well, this thing will not unload itself, will it?
"Be careful with that, Saphira," Roran cried out when he noticed her bring her foreclaws up to set them behind the wooden planks. With one push behind her, all the wooden beams slid out of the back of the carriage and clanked against each other after impacting with the hard packed dirt. Saphira held up one claw and turned to look over to Eragon and his cousin.
Simple as flight, she said amusingly. Now, you can say I helped. I'm going to see what I can find to eat further into the mountains. Care for anything? She broadcasted her question out to Roran and Eragon so they both could answer.
"I don't eat meat, remember?" Eragon explained. Saphira cocked her head and flicked her barbed tongue out.
Well then, I suppose a blade of grass will do you well? What about you, Roran?
"Katrina is supposed to fix supper later in the afternoon. I think I will be fine."
At least I offered, she replied smartly. I'm off to hunt.
Be careful, Eragon advised. Saphira let out a raspy chuckle and turned her back to them.
Speak for yourself, little one. I am not the one holding a nail or hitting it with a hammer. The young rider shrugged his shoulders towards Roran while Saphira flapped her wings and leapt into the air to disappear, blocked from sight by the millions of tall trees lining the hillsides. Roran grabbed his hammer and twirled it with his right hand.
"What is the matter with her?" Roran suddenly asked. "Why is she being so...kindly towards both of us?" Eragon took another look back where Saphira took off and shrugged yet again.
"To be honest, that was the first time she asked me, too. On most occasions, she tells me she is going to go hunting and just flies away. Maybe the fact of our freedom has finally connected with her?"
"Or maybe she's trying to get something out of you," Roran suggested.
"Like?"
"Oh come on, cousin! You of all people should know women act kindly to get something in return. Saphira is a woman..."
"...female," Eragon corrected. "There's a difference." He headed over to one of the wooden beams and slid it into position perpendicular to the end of another piece. "Maybe she just is in a good mood? After all, she was raised around here as well. It is possible that she is just as willing to help rebuild the village as we are."
"Speaking of rebuild," Roran said with a snicker. "Any chance of building a family, Eragon?" The rider looked up at his cousin and shook his head.
"There is no way possible," Eragon commented, placing a nail at the corner end of the connected pieces of wood. "I have made up my mind that the Great Shadeslayer will be the only one as well." Roran looked hurt by his remark and suddenly took to his knee beside him.
"Eragon, love finds even the most unlovable person at times. But if you give up, it has no choice but to move on to someone else."
"Then they can have it," Eragon replied with a laugh. "All love brings is heartache and a lot of mead."
"Or, in my case, it brings a family."
"Just you and Katrina, right?" Roran smiled and shook his head.
"Add one more."
"You mean?"
"In my eyes, you will be an uncle." Eragon leapt from his position and wrapped his arms around Roran's neck, almost taking him to the ground. "Easy Rider!"
"Congratulations, cousin...I mean brother! I'm going to be an uncle!"
"Yes, but it only means that the torch will be passed onto you. You have to make me an uncle as well, it's part of our trade." Eragon crossed his arms.
"I will tell you this, there is no way in or under any circumstances that I'd become a parent. Look at me!"
"Well, looks do matter, I suppose," Roran shot out with a chuckle.
"That is not my point, Roran. I am a dragon rider. My duties will always remain with the country. How could I possibly take the time to raise a family of my own?" Roran thought for a second and then set the tip of his hammer into position for Eragon to set the nail.
"Sometimes you must learn to move with the unexpected, Eragon. I never expected to fall in love with Katrina, but look at me now...look at us! Planning for love is..."
"Who said anything about planning, Roran? I am not planning, I'm not dreaming, and I am not loving. That is the end of the discussion." Eragon blew his seriousness away when he ended the sentence in laughter. Roran chuckled to himself and drove in the nail Eragon was holding, linking the two pieces of wood together.
"Do you ever think about Saphira?"
"Hmm?" Eragon asked.
"You heard me, Rider. Do you ever wonder what might become of her? Thorn and Shruikan are still alive, but that green egg hasn't even twitched. She must feel pressured beyond any belief." Eragon sighed and reached out to grab another wooden beam.
"I bet she does, Roran. I choose not to love anyone, but she...she has no choice in the matter. It is either she chooses one, or she lets her race die."
"Knowing her opinions on both of those dragons, I suppose we should take a good look at what we still can see, eh?" Eragon shook his head and ignored the question completely, grabbing another nail for Roran to force into the wood.
"I hope not," was all he was able to reply.
- - - - - - - - -
Saphira managed to catch a fully-grown buck off guard by a nearby meadow after several moments of searching. After devouring the creature, Saphira took towards the stream at the meadow's end to assist her in cleaning off the blood from the hapless animal.
Why must the things that taste so good be so messy? Saphira thought to herself, dipping her blood soaked talons into the water and watching the thick saucy crimson glide off of her sharp claws and disapate into the stream further downriver. She took her head and dove in with it, cleaning her teeth, scales, and horns, as well as providing her with a refreshing drink. The sapphire dragoness took another hearty sip and cocked her head backwards, gurgling some of the water as a method to clean the ripped meat from in between her teeth. After a few moments, she opened her mouth and let the blood red water pour from her maw.
Much better, she said to herself, completely satisfied and full. She turned her back towards the stream to start walking away, but something very familiar caught her eye atop the hillside. It was a large tower built with black stones and decorated poorly by overgrown moss. Her eyesight was keen enough to see the crumbling blocks nearest to the top of the strange building. Once she gathered her thoughts, she came to a conclusion.
Edoc'sil