Archayne squinted at the notice on the post, for a moment forgetting the pails of water in her hands. "Dragon Eggs! Arriving the Second of March!" the poster proclaimed, accompanied by a sketch of several eggs. Archayne's lips stretched into a grin. She was 19, finally old enough to stand in the line, waiting to see if a dragon would choose her! She smirked faintly, remembering the stories her mother would tell her of her ancestor, the great Dragon King Galbatorix. I could be just like him, she mused.
A rock to her back startled her out of her reverie, making her squeak in surprise. She spun around to see one of the town boys her age, Richard, smirking at her. "Hey, Chainy," he called, referring to her by the nickname he had given her.
Archayne sighed, turning away. I should tell Mama about that poster… Will she let me go?
" Oi!" he yelled behind her. "I'm talkin' to ya, Peabrain!"
She paused, sarcastically replying, "I had no idea."
Richard, for once, caught onto the sarcasm, and replied to it with another rock to her back. "Where ya going?"
"Somewhere." Archayne never gave them straight answers. Always, they were vague. No one ever could get anything out of her. Not her parents' identities, not where she was from, not even where she lived. She always managed to sneak away at just the right moment.
"That ain' helpful," Richard's goon, Marcus, whined.
"I'm not here to be helpful," she answered serenely before disappearing into the crowd on the main street.
With the boys behind her, Archayne weaved several circles through the streets, then snuck down several lanes and found herself at her small home. She nudged the door open with her hip and called out, "Mother, I brought the water!"
The haggard old woman turned from the fireplace, where a cauldron full of soup hung boiling. "Oh good, put those over there," she replied, motioning to a shelf beside the fireplace.
"I saw a notice in town today," the girl continued, "They're bringing the eggs about tomorrow. I should have seen the notices earlier since they're all over the place but, "she paused, a self-conscious smile on her lips, "You know me."
Ingrid nodded, shuffling over to pat the girl's cheek. "At least you saw it today," she told the girl and returned to the cauldron. "Perhaps, we'll dress you up for tomorrow. Braid your hair. Just so you look presentable."
Archayne pouted, resting a hand on her hip. "And I'm not already presentable?"
The old woman turned and gave her a frank look, her hands resting on her hips, the very image of a scolding mother. "You're covered in dirt, you stink and your hair is all tangles!"
"So?"
"So, we want you to look at least a small bit elegant tomorrow!" the old woman retorted.
Archayne knew she wouldn't win this argument. With a resigned sigh, she softly asked, "What shall I do first?"
"Why don't you go down to the river?" the woman suggested. "You know the spot I used to take you to. Take a bath, seeing as we don't have enough water here at the moment, and we'll do the rest when you return!"
"Can I eat first?" the girl whined. "I'm hungry!"
The old woman nodded, motioning to the chipping wooden table that stood in the middle of the kitchen. "Sit down, then," she ordered and shuffled to a cupboard, retrieving a bowl, and then grabbed a spoon. She poured soup into the bowl, filling it almost to the brim, and set it down on the table. Archayne already sat waiting. The girl scarfed her food down and packed the dirty dishes into a leather bag. She then quickly retrieved a fresh set of clothing and a towel from her room, as well as a bar of soap, a comb and a scrub. After planting a gentle kiss on her mother's cheek, she left the little house, heading straight for the river that was less than a mile away.
Archayne couldn't help but grin at the river as she approached it. The cheerful gurgle of the water over stones always put her in the good mood. She skipped towards the grove where trees hid a section of the river, where she would be hidden from prying eyes. Once hidden within the foliage, she quickly washed the dishes, and the bag, and stripped down. She folded the dirty clothing and placed it within the bag. With that done, she slipped into the cold water and began to clean her body, first covering herself with suds, then scrubbing herself, finishing off with a good rinse. Once she deemed herself clean, she slipped out, then dried and dressed herself. She combed every knot out of her hair and lazily braided it, rolling it up into a bun at the back of her head. With her washing done, she slipped out of the grove and headed home.
Archayne's mother greeted her with an excited grin as the girl stepped into the door. "I found some things I salvaged years ago!" she confided in the girl excitedly.
The girl set her bags down raised an eyebrow at Ingrid, wondering what she could possibly have carried all this time. "Show me?"
The old woman waved the girl into her bedroom, and Archayne followed inside. On the bed lay a pair of short, simple leather boots and an elegant purple dress. The girl's eyes widened at the intricate design that curled over the cloth- swooping dragons and vines done in golden thread. "Oh, Mother! It's lovely!" she exclaimed.
"Calm yourself, deary," the older woman replied, patting Archayne on the shoulder. "We still have to get you into it!"
Archayne only groaned in response. Clothing! Why can't everyone just live without it?
