Hel Istalrí - A Curse in the Ancient Language. Literally Hell Fire.
Shur'tugal - Dragon Rider
Du Súndavr Síclon – The Shadow Cycle
Svit-kona – Honorific prefix for an elf woman of great widom
líf böllr – Life Orb
Atra esterní ono thelduin, Eragon Shur'tugal – May good fortune rule over you Eragon Dragon Rider.
The council of Riders
Finiar gazed up at the sky, watching the birds and wondering what it would be like to fly with them. Eragon and Saphira would know of course, but he didn't feel like asking. They had enough on their minds without his petty questions.
He stood up gave one more longing glance upward before he began the journey back to the village, if you could call it that. The civilization had been started when Eragon and the Elves had relocated to raise the newer dragons. Sadly however, none of the elves had found a match as of yet and riders were still low in numbers.
A dwarf had found a match with one of the eggs back in Alagaësia, a pearly white beast of smaller sized than Saphira, but faster and more agile then any of the others in the land. In addition, an urgal had come to bond with a violet dragon, the second female in Alagaësia, but was still trying to gather the courage to ride it.
Other than these, no eggs had hatched and the Riders were beginning to worry. Five years had passed since the Great Draconian War, as the rebellion against King Galbatorix had come to be known as, and though there had been no real threats, Eragon and Saphira grew anxious to increase their numbers, and the Eldunarí shared their sentiment.
He gazed at the village and saw it was empty of civilians. He wondered why until he noticed the clock.
"Hel Istalrí," he cursed under his breath and ran for the Town Square. The time had come for the annual meeting for The Council of Riders, and the whole of Alagaësia watched in anticipation… aside from Finiar, who had dozed off in the fields.
Granted there wasn't much to miss, but whether something of importance occurred or not, the splendor of the dragons and the Shur'tugal alike would draw any crowd.
He arrived in time to catch a glimpse of the Scarlet Dragon Thorn and his Emerald-Scaled brother Fírnen fly off into the sunset before the group clustered around the square began to disperse, slowly at first, then gradually increasing until only he was left.
He glanced sadly toward the small specks vanishing into the horizon that he knew were bigger than any bird, more fierce than any storm cloud, and trudged off toward his home.
-Du Súndavr Síclon-
"Another year has passed with no events of any significance Arya, I'm well aware of that, but what would you have me do?" Eragon asked furiously.
The Council of Riders didn't have their actual meetings open to the public, those were simply staged. Magical projections of the three riders, Eragon, Murtagh, and Arya were projected and shown flying off, while the real meeting took place in the middle of the night.
"What of the boy?" Murtagh asked. "What part has he played in this ordeal so far?"
"None as of yet, but I suspect that time is coming to an end," he answered gravely.
A silence overcame the group, and a few moments passed before Arya voiced the concern on all of their minds.
"It is not fair to assume that the boy will have anything to do with these events Murtagh. His father was a great man, and we all know it, Glaedr more than any of us, but his father's experience and his son's are two separate stories entirely."
"A good point Svit-kona," Murtagh admitted. "Even so, Eragon's father was Brom, and mine own was Morzan, yet here we are. I think it only right to assume that if history has a way of repeating itself, the boy has a part to play."
Arya nodded her consent to this thought and silence once again swallowed the conversation.
"Saphira, how fares the líf böllr?" Fírnen asked. Saphira took a moment to consider before she answered. After doing so she responded smoothly.
"It fares well," she began simply. "However it grows impatient. It can sense that its rider is nearby, but can't seem to place it. I begin to wonder if Murtagh has a point about the boy."
"A point we might have," Thorn replied. "A rider we do not. Saphira if you ever want that líf böllr to hatch you must meet with Finiar. He might be our only hope if the stories are true… that is assuming that they are."
"Or that Finiar is even the rider we are looking for," Eragon countered. "We have good cause to believe so, but you must consider the number of creatures throughout Alagaësia and the Riders Land combined. Humans, Alfä, Knurla, Urgralgra, Werecats whom we added to the pact just last year, and now the-"
"It would not hatch for one of their kind," Saphira interrupted. "Of that I am sure."
"Not intentionally of course. However we must take into accountthat they could be forced hatchings. Galbatorix himself forced Shruikan to bond with him. Is it really out of the realm of possibility that it could be done while still in the líf bölrr?"
"By a skilled magician such as yourself, easily, but what we are dealing with are not at the level of Galbatorix or any of us," Fírnen noted.
"Not by normal means of course, but you seem to forget that these are not normal standards for their species!" Eragon countered. "The pact does not include their kind, but if they have found a way, then they have found a way, and there is no reason to deny it any longer."
Silence overcame the group after that last statement, after which Arya, who had been mostly silent through the exchange, began to speak.
"Send the líf böllr to the boy Saphira. Whatever happens after that can easily be scryed from here by Eragon and yourself. If it hatches then we have a rider, if not we are no worse of than before."
Eragon and Saphira looked at each other and silently talked over their decision. A few seconds later they nodded, and Saphira set a large Jet-black egg in the room. After Eragon recited a few words in the Ancient Language, it vanished and all was silent.
Murtagh glanced at the moon and turned to speak with the others.
"Thorn and I must be off. I have a meeting with the Dwarves tomorrow and I don't want to be late. Goodbye Svit-kona, Brother, and may we meet again soon."
He and the red dragon exited the area and were flying high in the nighttime sky mere seconds later.
"I should be going as well," Arya said reluctantly. "Atra esterní ono thelduin, Eragon Shur'tugal."
"And you as well," he responded. And then she and Fírnen both exited, leaving the rider and his dragon to their thoughts.