A/N: The story is in first person now. I know on the map of Alagaesia, there does not seem to be forest to the east of Urubaen, but I was lazy.
I slid off my horse, still trying to wrap my head around the thought. When I had been free, I had never thought much of it. Once I was imprisoned, I dreamed of it for a few months, but later my optimism gave way to a sort of half-depressed state. The idea of freedom had never entered my mind for a long time. It felt strange. Good, but strange.
I examined the spot the stranger had chosen to camp. We were in the middle of a small clearing in the woods to the east of Uru'baen. Bit strange to use that name; I was still more used to Illrea. The clearing was large enough so that anyone trying to sneak up on us would have to go through some open ground, but small enough so it would be hard to find us and we could escape into the forest easily. Some fallen trees I spotted near here could be used for firewood, and I faintly heard the chatter of a stream in nearby.
After I had gotten firewood and started a fire, and the stranger had collected water in a waterskin from his pouches, I set my sword to the side and began to question him.
"Who are you?" I asked.
"I do not think I can trust you enough yet, but for now you may call me…Merek."
"Okay. But how do I know I can trust you?"
"I did save you from Galbatorix."
"You could be part of an elaborate plot to extract an oath of loyalty from me."
"I might not be. I'm a spy for the Varden who has just given up his position to free you. Good enough?"
"The Varden…do you know where they are?"
"I cannot tell you until I know your intentions."
"Then it seems we cannot trust each other, yet we must work together to leave this area and find a safe haven."
"You could allow me to examine your mind, and I could let you look at my memories. That would solve the problem."
"Yes. I'll have to think about that, though."
The stranger—Merek—grunted, and took out some smoked lamb meat from a pouch. He handed me a couple pieces, which I accepted (they were not likely to be poisoned, since if the king or Merek wanted him dead they could have used much easier, more efficient methods) and chewed while thinking. They were a bit tough and stringy, and also not very flavorful, but they would sustain us for a while.
I contemplated the idea of letting someone look at my mind, seeing my innermost thoughts. What if he was evil? Could he perhaps take control of my body and force me to swear an oath to serve Galbatorix? Even if I did realize he had such intentions as I looked at his memories, I had no doubt I would lose a mental struggle, as I did not even know how one was supposed to go about doing such things. But if I didn't let him, we would be unable to trust each other. I, for one, knew that I would not be able to sleep if there was a possibility of him betraying me.
Finally, I decided the benefits of mutual trust outweighed the possible dangers, and if I was bound to Galbatorix I'd just have to resist him in any way possible.
"I've decided," I declared. Judging from Merek's reaction, it was a bit sudden; he jumped and nearly fell into the fire.
"What?" he asked.
"I've decided. You can do the mind thing."
"Okay," he said, appearing slightly relieved. "You might not recognize the sensation at first; I'll tell you when I look at your mind."
Hello, I heard, as if from inside my head. I looked around wildly. Where was the voice coming from?
I'm Merek. This is what it's like when someone is communicating through thought. Just think your thoughts, and I'll hear them.
Okay, I thought. What do I have to do to show you my intentions?
Nothing. I can see them. You have obviously not been taught to shield your mind.
A slight sense of disapproval came from the alien thing I realized was Merek's consciousness.
Are you done? I asked.
Yes. Here are my memories…
Flash! Elves, gracefully walking about a wonderful city of trees.
Flash! Learning sword fighting and magic from an old, skilled elf.
Flash! Fighting against the Empire, protecting Ellesmera.
Flash! Two old, dead elves with terrible wounds, my mother and father, lying on the forest floor, killed by Kialandi and Formora, both members of the Wyrdfell.
Flash! Taking an oath in front of the Varden, the first elf to join, swearing to defy the Empire with every breath.
Flash! A group of soldiers training in the mountains, and a sense of hopelessness.
Flash! A bearded man issuing orders to me, who felt satisfaction and pride.
Flash! A young man, who I recognized, in a jail cell, being tortured by the mad king himself. Perhaps he could help the Varden?
Flash! Running from soldiers, knowing if I escaped, but not the prisoner, Brom would be disappointed.
Flash! Racing out of Uru'baen on horseback.
I staggered, returning to my body. The sudden rush of memories was overwhelming. I sorted through the ones I remembered, realizing Merek was an elf. It seemed his parents had died during the war between Galbatorix and the Riders, and his want for revenge had caused him to join the Varden. As far as I could tell, he had no harmful intentions towards me.
"So?" I asked. "Do you trust me now?"
"Enough to tell you my name," he replied. "I am Istalir (Istalri means 'flame')."
"I am Alan."
"I was aware of that."
"How come you are an elf, and yet your ears are round?"
"Magic. I could not pretend to be an elf serving Galbatorix. None of our race would ever do such a thing."
"What about the Forsworn?"
"The Wyrdfell? They are no longer considered members of our society."
"But they are still elves."
"Do not say that to my people, lest they kill you for your impertinence and lack of knowledge. An elf who had not left Du Weldenvarden would take great offense at that."
I lay down contentedly, prepared for my first good rest since before I could remember.
"Who will take first watch?" I asked.
"You need not worry about that. I do not need as much sleep as you, and I will set wards about us. If you wake up and do not see me, I am either hunting or…I think humans would call it meditating. Probably in a tree."
Contrary to my expectations, I fell asleep quickly, even though I still had plenty of adrenaline.
I groaned and stretched my arms. Bright light blinded me. Galbatorix was here to torture me! My jailer would not arrive this early.
I remembered the previous day's events, and calmed down. I looked around. Istalir was packing the few things we had.
"Hello," I said.
"Good morning. I see you have awakened at last. We should make haste; it is already midmorning, and I saw some of Galbatorix's soldiers coming through the area. You may want to take a drink of water from the spring. It is over there," he replied, pointing to the north.
I got up and took the dagger from my belt. I realized the handle had been digging into my back all night, and causing me discomfort.
"Here," I said, handing it to Istalir.
"You should keep it for now."
"Alright."
I walked north, picking up my sword from its position near the campfire. The undergrowth was thick, and I couldn't cut it for fear of leaving a clear mark showing our passage, but I managed to reach the stream with only a few cuts and scratches. I decided I would need a new set of clothing at the nearest town, as months of imprisonment and red-hot irons had left my leather tunic and pants in tatters.
I bent down to drink, savoring the feel of the cool liquid. I was so happy at my first drink of fresh water in nearly a year that I did not hear some bushes rustle, and before I knew it I felt a cold, sharp blade against my neck, and a voice in my ear whispered, "Stay still. Where is your companion?"
I rolled to the left, away from the arm with the knife, and pulled out my dagger.
"You dare?" hissed a lean, muscular man. He had been holding the knife. "Kill him!"
Arrows flew from the bushes, but thanks to the undergrowth only one found its mark. It grazed my upper arm as it passed, and I clenched my teeth. I turned to what I hoped was the camp and sprinted as well as I could, yelling out that the soldiers had found us.
I stumbled into the clearing we had been in, and saw only the two horses. I swore under my breath and hid behind one, pulling out my sword and sheathing the dagger.
"There he is!" A small group of soldiers came out of the forest.
"Surround him!" shouted the captain. Two soldiers went to the left and right, and one behind me, with amazing speed. The captain stayed in front.
Thwip! Thwip! Thwip! Three arrows sprouted from the breastplates of three soldiers. The captain remained unharmed, but when he turned to flee, Istalir dropped in front of him, a sword in one hand, a bow in the other. I wondered where the bow had come from.
"Place your weapons on the floor," Istalir said calmly. The captain complied, hands trembling.
"I wouldn't go through the trouble of capturing you just to kill you," reassured Istalir. "How many search parties has Galbatorix sent in this direction, and how far have they got?"
"I'll-I'll never t-t-tell!" stuttered the captain.
"Then you shall die." Istalir put the point of his sword at the captain's neck.
"A-alright, you w-win! Five parties l-like-like my own in four different q-quadrants. I don't kn-kn-know how far the other p-p-parties have g-got."
"Are you sure?"
"Okay, okay, just don't k-k-kill me. Most are f-further behind, some ahead."
"Are you certain you are not lying?"
"Yes! I swear upon my life that I'm telling the truth."
"Alright. You may go." Istalir lowered his arm, and the captain ran into the forest.
"We must move quickly," said Istalir. We mounted our horses and trotted towards the rising sun.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"Once we reach the Hadarac, we shall turn southeast and head towards the Beors, home of the Varden. We must hurry, though; anyone following us could find the Varden and tell Galbatorix. That reminds me; I must cast a spell obliterating our tracks.
He turned in his saddle and muttered something incoherent. The few hoof prints left on the dry forest floor disappeared.
"When we halt at the end of the day, I will teach you to fight. You are not as good as I had expected, but at least you have some basic training. I refuse to return to the Varden with nothing to show but a common soldier."
"Can you teach me to use magic?"
"I do not know how to go about that. Elves are always born with the ability, so I have never seen one been taught to reach for the flow of magic. I have taught a few humans since I joined the Varden, but not to access magic, just to control it."
"Ah."
"In my experience, when a human first reaches for magic it is without thinking. They do not have to try, and it is usually in a desperate situation. Afterwards, they do have to try, although not so much as their knowledge increases."
"I hope I'll be able to use magic."
"I do too."
We rode in silence for awhile. I examined the forest around us, noting that there were many trees. The soil looked good for crops. There was not much vegetation on the floor in this area, probably because much of the sunlight was blocked out. The only low growing plants were near the path, which we were traveling about parallel to.
After a few hours of silent riding, the forest ended, rather abruptly.
In front of us was a vast desert. The Hadarac, covering about half of Alagaesia.
And we would have to cross it.
A/N: I thought it was strange for Alan to let Istalir examine his thoughts so early, but I couldn't think of how else to do it. One review so far! Hooray! Please press that little button and review. It seems to want to be clicked, so click it.
