Chapter 3
Inspiration had struck Archayne at midnight, when her eyes were drooping shut from exhaustion.
You need a name, she thought to herself as she lay on the bed, her eyes on the dragon.
An air of sarcasm seemed to emanate from the dragon as it rolled its eyes. It hadn't been too personable, and didn't communicate too much with its rider.
Archayne racked her brains. She considered naming him Shruikan, but immediately discarded the idea. Not only would it immediately raise question, but the violet dragon also edged nearer to smack his tail against her cheekcrossly. Wait... I just thought of it… as a he… she paused, then narrowed her eyes at the dragon. You're a boy dragon?
The dragon lifted its tail in assent.
She bit her lip thoughtfully. Zavon? She sent the thought across.
The dragon lifted its head in thought, and then shook its head.
Archayne suggested more, including Eridor, Ohen, and Vanilor. The dragon rejected all of them with a careless swish of his tail.
What else? She asked herself, sighing softly. Then the idea came to her… Shenkuu? She asked, looking at the dragon with hope in her eyes.
The dragon lifted his head once more, warmth for once appearing in his eyes. Yes, he replied. Now sleep. The corners of his mouth seemed to twitch upwards as he rested his head on his paws.
Archayne smiled cheerily. Finally, her dragon had a name! "Good night," she whispered to the small dragon.
A soft growl answered her, and she then drifted off to sleep.
It seemed like seconds later that something small and hard jabbed her cheek. She opened her drowsy eyes to see Shenkuu using his head as a battering ram against her face. "You'll bruise me," she groaned, turning over to her other side.
She squeaked as he poked her back with a claw. Morning. It is time, he responded calmly as he clambered onto her shoulder.
"Oh no!" she exclaimed as she leaped out of the small bed and began rushing around the tiny, cramped room to pack what few souvenir possessions she possessed. She packed the dress from the day before, the heavenly leather boots, and an old sketch of her and her mother. She slipped out of her nightgown, forgetting all about Shenkuu for the moment, and dressed in a simple, comfortable dress. She combed quickly through her hair and packed the brush. It was old, an heirloom that remained from when Morena fled from Urû'baen. Looking over the rucksack, she nodded to herself. That's everything, she told herself, and turned back to Shenkuu.
He was cowering in a corner, one of his wings covering his eyes. She raised an eyebrow at him and asked aloud, "Are you alright?"
He responded with an image of her bare body.
Archayne flushed with mortification, covering her cheeks. "Sorry," she mumbled.
Strange noises made her peek through her fingers. Shenkuu lay curled up where he had been before, his wings folded. His violet eyes shined with amusement, and a weird yuck-yuck was coming from his opened jaws, the corners of his lips drawn backward, his head bobbing slightly.
It took her a second to realize that the dragon was laughing at her. She narrowed her eyes, realizing that his disgust had been a mere joke, and turned away. She grabbed her rucksack and pulled its straps over her shoulders, proceeding to the small kitchen in the home.
Ingrid was there already, dark circles under her eyes. "Never will I drink again," she told her daughter as the girl walked in.
Archayne laughed. "I'm sure, mother," she replied, sitting at the table. Shenkuu slithered off her arm to sit on the table. "Be careful while I'm gone," she cautioned the older woman. "I'll do what I can to send help back!"
A shadow passed over Ingrid's brow. She knew this moment would eventually arrive, had known since her daughter had returned with a dragon hatchling on her shoulder. She had tried to prepare herself for her daughter's departure, but had failed. Her voice shook as she responded to her daughter. "Once moment, my dear," she told Archayne as she set down a bowl of soup before the girl.
Archayne's eyes followed her mother with her curiosity. She knew the older woman would return, and began to eat. Shenkuu caught the scent of a mouse and jumped down to the floor. He sent an image of himself eating it to Archayne to tell her what he would be doing, and the girl nodded.
Ingrid returned with an oblong object wrapped in cloth. "This was your father's," she told the girl as she pulled back strips of the cloth. A long, thin sword was revealed. It was old, as could be seen from the scuffed leather hilt. Archayne stood and took the blade, sliding it out of its sheath. The metal was clean, despite its age, and then edges were sharp. A soft burp emanated from behind them: Shenkuu had eaten his mouse. Victorious content emanated from him, lifting Archayne's own sprits.
"Thank you, mother," Archayne murmured, returning the blade to its sheath, her voice thick with tears. She took the blade, and with her mother's helped, fastened the thing and its belt around her waist. The blade felt heavy on her hip. "This will take some getting used to," she told her mother with a playful smile.
Ingrid waved her daughter off. "Off with you, or they'll leave without you!" She paused and stepped up to her daughter to wrap her in a last embrace. "May luck be with you," she murmured.
"And you," Archayne replied, returning her mother's embrace.
Shenkuu, sensing Archayne's emotions, flitted up to land on the blonde girl's hair. He touched his muzzle to her mother's head, replying in kind, And you.
Ingrid pulled away, smiling at the two, and nodded.
Archayne straightened her spine, pulling her shoulders back as she lifted her chin, and turned on her heal. She and Shenkuu left Ingrid's doorstep forever.
Shenkuu reached the hill before his Rider did, his purple scales flashing in the morning light. The three egg carriers looked up at the sound of his squeaks and growls. The elf smiled softly, murmuring a greeting in the Ancient Language.
Shenkuu returned the greeting. He landed heavily in the grass, clearly tired from flying.
A huffing and red-cheeked Archayne appeared soon after, pausing to rest her hands on her knees. "I apologize if I'm late!" she told the three people before her. "I'm not used to carrying so much."
"Worry not," the dwarf replied cheerfully, "Your escort has not arrived yet."
"Escort?" Archayne squeaked as she reached down to pick up Shenkuu, transferring him to her shoulder.
Her squeak was drowned out, though, by the loud sound of beating wings. She looked up, only to stumble back in mingled fear and shock. A huge, red dragon seemed to be falling from the sky, landing with a thud that shook them all. A human Rider slipped off its back. "Hello there," he waved to the small group around him. "I'm here to deliver!"
The elf seemed to roll his eyes, but nodded towards the girl. "You will be taking her to.. Wherever you train."
The human turned to the girl, his eyes rising as he noticed the unusual shape and color of her eyes. "Well, you're different," he noted, the shrugged. "I'm guessing that there is your dragon?" he inquired as he stretched his hand out to help her climb up onto the dragon.
Archayne swallowed, disconcerted by his comment, and then nodded in response to his question. "Aye, he is mine," she answered, taking his hand.
The human nodded, keeping his eyes averted as he helped the girl into the saddle. "Might I ask his name?"
The girl made sure she was comfortable before responding. "Shenkuu."
"Aye, that is different, too. You're an unusual one, aren't you?" he smiled, raising an eyebrow.
Archayne shrugged, glancing down towards the egg carriers below. The elf, aware of her gaze, nodded to her. The dwarf waved. The human flashed Archayne an encouraging smile. "Don't worry about that guy," she called, motioning to the Rider that clambered onto his dragon. "Andreus is annoying, but he means well!"
Andreus, as he was apparently named, grunted in response and threw the human on the ground a furtive glare. He swung into the saddle, saluting the three on the ground. "I'll see you three next time!" he cried. Suddenly, the ground was falling away.
Archayne squeaked, clutching to the man's back, her frantic eyes wide. Shenkuu had curled around her neck securely, a bit like a scarf. After a rough ascent, the red dragon leveled out. Archayne gasped, not having realized that she was holding her breath. "Do dragons always do that?" she half-whispered.
Smugness came in answer from Sheknuu.
Andreus turned slightly to the side, his eyebrow rising. "You say something?"
"I said," Archayne repeated, raising her voice, "Do dragons always do that?"
Andreus laughed in response, shaking his head. "Lanidor just decided it would be fun to scare ye. Don't worry!"
Archayne flushed with anger, and then shook her head. This wasn't something to get worked up over. Instead, she focused on communicating her thoughts to Shenkuu. He responded, most often, with sarcasm. He seemed like an ornery dragon, yet at times he was perfectly friendly and warm. Of course, those times were rare.
The red dragon, Lanidor, flew on, bearing his rider and the accompanying girl with ease. He was ten years old, having been one of the first eggs to hatch for the new Riders. He was strong, and was able to make the full flight across the desert within three days. His training was specialized in long-distance flights, so for him, it wasn't all that much of a hassle. Except for the fact that every few hours, the humans on his back had to perform certain bodily functions that required him to land. Though he was prepared for it, it annoyed him nevertheless, and so it was on purpose that when they finally arrived at the new training grounds, he landed with a jarring jolt, nearly sending the thin girl flying off his back.
Archayne was all but dozing when they landed. A jolt the magnitude of an earthquake, or so it felt, made her yelp in terror, her lack of grip almost making her tumble to the ground some twenty feet below. Still, she was able to just in time clutch the back of Andreus's shirt.
The Rider laughed, climbing down after he saved his shirt from her hands. "We'll take fewer bathroom breaks next time, Lanidor! I promise!" He landed lightly on the ground and then helped Archayne down, patting Lanidor's side. A moment of silence passed, in which the two discussed the next move. Lanidor turned and lumbered off, no doubt to find food.
Archayne, in the meantime, was speechless. They stood in a clearing skirted by the thickest trees she had ever seen. Windows were in the trunks, and there were doorways placed in the roots of each tree.
"Aye, the elves know their singing," Andreus remarked, noticing the girl's expression.
She barely heard him.
The Rider allowed her to dawdle for but a moment before grabbing her by the elbow, leading her on a path boarded with dark blue flowers. "Come on, you'll have time to gaze later."
She nodded meekly, her wide eyes still flicking from place to place in wonder.
Andreus led her through the forest-like city, stopping at a gate formed from the branches of a dogwood tree. The Rider murmured a few words in the Ancient Language, and the gate opened with a soft sigh. It closed after them as they passed. Inside, a number of elves and humans meandered around, some in groups. Anderus lead her past them, and deep into the hall. He finally stopped at a large, official-looking door formed by the branches of a pair of gnarled olive trees. The branches appeared to form a pair of flying dragons in the center. Archayne eyed the door in wonder, unable to believe that this was possible.
A voice from inside boomed, "Enter." The doors opened.
Archayne and Andreus entered. Five seated elves greeted them with grave expressions. I don't think he's an elf, though, Archayne thought as she looked at the elf seated in the middle. His short dark brown hair fell over his eyes, casting shadows over a face more rugged than the faces of his companions. His jaw was too strong, his body slightly wider. In his hands, which were not as slender as those of the rest, he held a golden, light-filled object. She had no idea what it could possibly be.
Andreus, Archayne noticed, was making a strange motion, twisting his hand over his sternum. Archayne watched him, biting her lip in confusion. The elves looked at her expectantly, and realizing these must be the leaders of the Riders, Archayne dipped a curtsy. They nodded in response, and the one in the middle, evidently the head, began to speak.
"Greetings, Andreus," he began, nodding to blond Rider. "We thank you for bringing the girl here. You may leave."
The blonde Rider nodded, and departed, leaving Archayne alone.
She straightened her back, watching the elves cautiously.
"Greetings, Rider," the center elf began. "My name is Eragon Shadeslayer." Archayne's jaw almost dropped open. "Welcome to the city of the Dragon Riders, Arucane. What are your name, and your dragon's name?"
Archayne took a moment to compose herself. "My name is Archayne, and my dragon's name is Shenkuu."
Eragon nodded slowly, his dark eyes flicking towards the golden object.
One of his fellow elves suddenly said, "Your eyes… they are strange. Have you any elven blood in you?"
The girl shook her head. "None that I know of."
The golden object flashed. It was Glaedr's heart of hearts, and he was unsettled. Something was vaguely familiar in her stance, and in the way she held herself. Her voice, too, struck chords in his memory. He could not place where, though. All he could think of was that he had not seen that bearing in many a year.
"Glaedr wishes to ask…" Eragon continued, the shadow of confusion passing over his face. Archayne noted quickly that he was also more likely to display his emotions than his companions were. "If you have any notable… ancestors?"
Archayne stiffened, trying to decide whether to answer. Shenkuu lifted his head to look at her, surprised that he suddenly could not hear the flow of her thoughts. Her jaw worked for a moment, then she shook her head. "I have none."
That's when Glaedr suddenly remembered. Images flashed through his mind: a young man standing before the council, the same man but older begging the council for a new dragon, and finally that man atop a giant black dragon. Gravely, he translated those images to the open minds of Eragon, Shenkuu and the elves. Their reaction was immediate.
The elves' expressions changed drastically: shock, anger and an almost-fear mingled across their faces. Shenkuu sprinted away from the girl, hissing as he hid behind a leg of Eragon's chair.
"You,"Eragon growled. His voice was hard, threatening, unforgiving. "You are the descendant of Galbatorix!? And you dared to lie about it?"