Author's Note: So, I'm not going to offer any excuse as to why I haven't updated this in two years. It's been two years. No excuse would work. But on that note, I do have a reason for returning to this now, when it's been so long. Three months after I posted that first chapter, I graduated from high school. I didn't write over the summer, and when I went to college, I simply didn't have time, and it got left behind.
But some things have changed in my life (I recently moved from the West coast to the East, switched schools, and things like that) and I have decided to get serious about writing. I like it. I'm good at it. Thing is, it's not easy to get critiques on your writing. That's why I'm here. None of you are publishers or literary critics (or maybe you are; what the hell do I know?), but neither are most people who read books.
So when I ask you all to review this, what I'm actually asking is that you rip it apart. Anything you think needs improvement, let me know. It's the only way I'll get better.
Chapter Two:
Sol
Victoria stepped off the dock onto the shores of Lake Eldor. The sand was wet, and made a squelching sound under her feet. Her golden dragon, still unnamed, plodded along beside her. His legs were short, barely long enough to lift his belly off the ground, and he waddled rather cutely. Victoria smiled down at him. An escort of elven dignitaries stepped behind her, though their steps were light, and made no sound on the wet sand. Victoria grimaced. Some elf she was.
A half-dozen horses followed the dignitaries off the ship, as well as a lone pony. Another hundred paces and the sand gave way to long grass, blowing lightly in the breeze. The plains stretched on seemingly endlessly in every direction; a sea of pale green, as daunting as the real thing, in Victoria's mind. The dignitaries mounted their horses, and one of the women helped Victoria climb atop the pony. Victoria's golden dragon flapped its tiny wings, futilely attempting to lift itself off the ground and up into the saddle with her.
Victoria, it intoned, somewhere deep in her mind. It looked up at her with wide eyes, and Victoria realized that it was scared she was going to leave it.
It's okay, she thought. You're coming, too. She didn't know if he could understand her or not, but she tried to think it as reassuringly as she could. The dragon seemed to calm a little, and when the elven woman lifted him into the saddle in front of Victoria, he dug his claws tightly into the leather. Victoria stroked his back, doing her best to comfort him. She felt him relax a little, loosening his death-grip on the saddle.
It must be scary, she thought. You're just a baby, and you're getting packed halfway across the world.
The little dragon looked up at her. Victoria.
Victoria smiled. Yes, that's me, she chuckled. Given any thought to your name, yet?
Victoria, said the dragon.
No, that's my name,she said, laughing as best she could in her mind.
The group set off at a trot, leaving the shores of the lake behind. They rode for hours, and when Victoria looked back, it looked the same as when she looked in any other direction. She wondered momentarily how the dignitaries knew where they were going, and her fingers began to tap across her dragon's spine. She pushed the thought away. They had done this many times over the years; they knew what they were doing.
They had stepped off the ship at ten that morning. Events had transpired quickly after the dragon hatched; she'd been taken before Queen Arya immediately after the Elders came to get her. The queen was intimidating, to say the least. Her raven hair fell around her sharp features, and her green eyes were penetrating in a way that Victoria had never experienced, like she was looking into or through her, rather than at her.
But she had smiled at Victoria, and spoken with a soft, motherly voice. She had seemed happy, in a rather distant way, as though disinterested in the happenings. She told Victoria that she should be proud to be representing the elves in New Vroengard, just as they were proud of her. "Anyone destined for a dragon is also destined for greatness," she had said. Victoria was too awed at the time to say anything, and the queen seemed to understand.
Victoria was on a horse by the end of the day, her few belongings in a knapsack on her back. She had made the week-long trek to Silthrim, where she had boarded a ship, and sailed down the Gaena River, alongside her dignitary escort. The ship was sped by elven magics, and had reached the Eastern shore of Eldor in under two days.
And then it was off into the Grass Sea. Three hours into the ride, and Victoria's legs were screaming for relief. The dignitaries rode with straight backs, speaking quietly to one another, and looking very, well, dignified. Victoria rode behind them, doing her best to mimic their class. At ten years old, results were questionable at best.
Night was nearing before they sighted their destination. Away on the horizon was a copse of trees, insignificant were it not for the fact that it was the only landmark for miles in any direction. The trees were sparse affairs: thin-trunked with a bush of leaves at the top, stretching up from the ground like bony fingers. The dignitaries visibly relaxed as they came into view. Their journey was nearing its end, and though their elven endurance carried them, the featureless Sea was tiring on the mind just as much as the journey was on the body.
The sun set as they came into what would have been the shadow of the trees. The four dignitaries slid from their mounts, and the same woman who had helped her before brought Victoria and her dragon down from the saddle. They built a small campfire beneath the trees using the dead limbs that had fallen from them, and the flickering light threw unnerving shadows across the grass around them. They ate a traveler's meal of bread, cheese, and nuts. Victoria's dragon curled next to her on the ground, snuggling close to her hip. She reached down and gently scratched him beneath his chin, a gesture she had found he enjoyed.
It was quiet that night, but for the quiet chirp of distant crickets somewhere out in the Sea. The dignitaries whispered amongst themselves, some distance from Victoria. It was strange, she thought, how the deference they treated her with now felt so like the patronization she had been treated with as a child. Of course, she was still a child, but now she was a Dragon Rider, too.
Victoria didn't notice when sleep took her, but when the sun rose, she did as well. Her dragon was curled up in the crook of her waist, and the rays of the sun shone brightly off his golden scales. He was quite beautiful in the morning light, looking something like a tiny sun himself. The dignitaries had already risen, and were packing up their belongings as Victoria rose and stretched. Her dragon roused from his sleep, and gave a small yawn, revealing his hook-lined tongue. It suddenly struck Victoria that in a few short months, he would be large enough to ride. She had known it before, but when she cradled the baby dragon, it seemed odd that he would grow to be so much larger than she.
"Look, Argetlam." One of the dignitaries, a man with shining silver hair, was pointing out to the East, where Victoria could see a fast-moving shape on the horizon. As it came near, she could see that it was a sparking amethyst dragon, souring toward them at break-neck speed. "Your escort is here," said the man.
The dragon closed to the copse of trees; it was huge, larger than Victoria could believe. It must have had a seventy-foot wingspan. On its back rode a stout dwarf with a long black beard. A sword rested in a scabbard at his hip, with leather stained the color of his dragon's scales. He passed his hand over the buckles along his legs, muttering to himself as he did so. The buckles undid themselves, and he slipped from the saddle down to the ground.
"Alrighty, so which one o' ye is the Rider?" he asked, his mustache puffing out as he spoke. The dignitaries parted, bowing as they did so, revealing Victoria behind them. The dwarf smiled when he saw her. "Arright, by that there baby durg'n you got, I'm guessin' i's you, innit?" he said.
Victoria, wide-eyed, nodded several times. The dwarf laughed heartily. "No need to be nervous, lit'l' she-elf. My name's Klok, this 'ere is Fiolem," he said, jerking his head toward the massive violet dragon.
It is a pleasure to meet you, little she-elf. The dragon's deep voice resonated in her head, so low that it felt like her skull was vibrating.
It's a pleasure to meet you, too, Victoria thought, doing her best to project the thought to both dragon and Rider. Judging by the dwarf's reaction, she was successful.
"And just what is yer name?" he asked.
"Victoria," she said hastily, realizing she had failed to introduce herself. She moved her hands behind her back, where the fingers of her left began to tap furiously against the knuckles of her right. She wanted to make a good impression; she definitely didn't want to offend the dwarf.
"Well, that's a preh'y name, innit?" he said with another hearty laugh. "Don't hear nuthin' like tha' among us dwarves! Our women-folk all go' names like Agnes an' Vilka! Sometimes I'm wishin' we could take a lead from you elves!"
Victoria smiled then. Whatever else he was, Klok was certainly quite jovial, and his presence lightened her spirits.
Once again, Fiolem's voice resonated in her mind. We best be off, he said. New Vroengard is still many miles from here, and it would be wise to begin as soon as we can.
Klok nodded; Fiolem was clearly broadcasting his thoughts to all in the group. The dignitaries had stepped back, and now bowed again, signaling their farewell to the two Dragon Riders. Victoria nodded a thank you to them; they had been quite kind to her during their journey, even if they had been distant. They gave slight nods of their head in return, mounted their horses, and turned to ride away, the riderless pony trailing along behind them.
Victoria turned back to Klok, who met her gaze with a wide smile. "Arright, li'l' elf, you rea'y t' see yer new home?" Victoria nodded, her enthusiasm beginning to break through her nervousness. She could feel the little dragon's enthusiasm too, bleeding through their mind link. Victoria couldn't say whether he really understood what was going on, but this was the first dragon he had seen since hatching. If nothing else, he was probably happy for that.
Climb up, little she-elf, came Fiolem's voice. Victoria started, and made her way over to the massive dragon. Fiolem stooped down, and Klok helped Victoria up into the saddle. Her little dragon followed her up, and she took him from Klok's stout hands.
"Righ' in there!" Klok called from the ground, indicating a little sack on the side of Fiolem's saddle. "Don' wan' the li'l' guy ta'in' a fall from this heigh'!" Victoria nodded – again – and gently dropped the little dragon down into the pouch.
Klok chuckled as he climbed into the saddle behind her. "Wha's wrong? Durg'n go' yer tongue?"
Victoria started, and opened her mouth the speak, and she had to force the sound to come. "Uh, no. No, sir," she said, tripping over the three-and-a-half words.
Klok barked another laugh. "I'm no' 'sir' to ye, lassie," he said. "Yer a Durg'n Ri'er jus' li'e me! We're all equals in New Vroengard!"
"Yes," Victoria caught herself before she called him 'sir' again.
"Klok," the dwarf finished for her. "Jus' Klok among Ri'ers." And with that, Fiolem's great wings spread wide, and they lifted off with a great woomph! The air rushed by Victoria's ears, deafeningly loud, as they climbed high into the sky. Her dragon poked its golden head up above the rim of the pouch and looked around. It didn't try to move, clearly aware of the consequences of such an action.
Smarter than an elven child, for sure, Victoria thought.
Or a dwarf, came Klok's voice in her mind. She started, throwing a glance back over her shoulder. He gave a pained look. Sorry, he said. Thought you meant us to hear it. The Masters will teach you not to broadcast your thoughts.
Masters? Victoria asked.
The greatest of our order. Oldest, too, usually. The Shadeslayer up in the Great Tree's the Grandmaster, but we don't see much of 'im anymore, Klok replied. His mental voice carried very little of the accent his actual one did.
Why not? Victoria asked.
Spends all his time pouring over old tomes. Some say he's seeking lost knowledge to empower the order. Others say he's startin' to go senile young, Klok said.
But he's the greatest Rider there's ever been! Victoria thought, as forcefully as she could.
Hm. Well, I won't be weighin' in on that one. Some say that knowin' the Name alone makes 'im the most powerful being ever to walk the Earth. Others say that takin' out old Galby was a fluke that he never would have accomplished on 'is own, Klok said. And while I won't be takin' sides in whether he should be headin' the Order or not, I will say this: he coudln't o' taken Galby alone. That's a fact, one that he's admitted 'imself. But he displays more wisdom than he's got any right to at thirty-eight years, and there's a strength in knowing you can't do it alone. And on top of all that, twenty years is a long time. He's come far since that battle. I don't know how powerful he is, but trust me when I say I've no intention of challenging 'im any time soon.
Victoria was quiet. She'd been obsessed with the Dragon Riders as long as she could remember, and Eragon Shadeslayer was the hero of their story. He and his great dragon Saphira had led the Varden against the Empire, and had defeated the Dark King Galbatorix. He was Victoria's idol, the hero she'd spent her childhood longing to be. She stared at one of Fiolem's amethyst scales, her thoughts spiraling away from her control. How could anyone thing he wasn't the absolute best possible leader of the New Order? It was beyond her. He was a symbol, an effigy of all that was righteous and just in the world, standing against evil and chaos.
Victoria, came the little dragon's voice, piercing her thoughts and stopping the spiraling train in its tracks. He didn't say anything else, but somehow, just that one word settled her racing mind, calming her thoughts. She looked down at him, and he met her gaze with warm eyes. His gaze was comforting, in a very strange way, yet a very perfect way. It dawned on her then, that it was because he understood exactly what she was feeling. There was no miscommunication, no failure of translation. He felt what she did. It was a strange thought.
Victoria, he said again.
Dragon, she replied, a smile tugging at the corner's of her lips.
Sol, he said.
Victoria started in the saddle. Klok looked down at her, a curious look in his eye.
Sol, the dragon repeated. Dragon and Rider locked gazes, and Victoria could feel the pride and excitement pouring through from the little dragon's mind.
Sol, he said for a third time, and Victoria understood.
"Sol," Victoria said aloud. "His name is Sol."
Klok laughed aloud. "I's a good name for 'im don't ya think?"
It is indeed, came Fiolem's voice. You're going to do great things, little Sol.
The little dragon – Sol – beamed.
"Sol," Victoria said again. She reached down, and stroked him across the head. He made a purring, chirping sound, and nuzzled her hand.
"Sol."