Disclaimer: I don't own the Inheritance Cycle nor the Harry Potter series. The two series are owned, respectively, by Christopher Paolini and Joanne Rowling. I have just taken the liberty of playing with their works.
Slowly, And Then All At Once
Beta'ed by Byakko no Akuba
Chapter Seven: Magic Philosophy, Lesson One
~ BWaC ~
Helena's snout sniffed along the forest floor. As the rotten smell of the urgals reached her nose, she had to stop to get her stomach under control and to fight the violent urge to gag. One would think that she would get used to it after having hunted them for a day, and thus having already smelt them several times, but that wasn't true. If anything, she handled it worse each time she was met with the stench. Helena shook the thoughts from her head and jumped over a fallen log to follow the trail.
'The targets are only a few hundred metres to the north,' Helena informed Brom and Saphira over their mental connection. 'I'm guessing from the intensity of their stench that there are a few of them. Three or four, is my closest estimation.'
'I hear you. Saphira and I will sweep in from above. You will chase down any urgals which escape our initial attack,' Brom responded.
'They will know not to mess with a dragon and her Rider again,' Saphira's voice sounded determined.
'The idea is that they won't know it,' Brom pointed out gruffly. 'Now, let's attack before they move again.'
As Brom's voice sounded in her head, Helena caught the unnerved feeling that flowed from him, before he got a handle on it. If she hadn't been a wolf for the moment, she would've smirked. As it was, simple amusement flowed from her, and she made no effort in hiding it. She was quite proud of what she could do.
When Brom had discovered what Eragon had done, he had been furious. It reminded Helena strongly of Alastor when he would berate Order members for doing something foolish. And, yes, Eragon had done something foolish, something genuinely moronic and dangerous. While Helena wasn't spewing fire and ash (figuratively), she was also severely disappointed in her fellow Dragon Rider. The dragons weren't much better. It certainly didn't help on Godric's view of Eragon, who hadn't viewed him in a favourable light even before the incident – mostly due to Eragon's unwillingness to fight the Broddring Empire and the Black King. It indeed was safe to say, that Eragon would be facing a severe bollocking when he awoke from his unconscious state.
As soon as they had gotten Eragon back to their camp, Brom wanted to be off to hunt down the urgals. He didn't need time to convince Helena, as she was right with him on that one, but pointed out that they really should leave someone to guard Eragon. If it had just been him, Eragon, and Saphira, she could understand that Brom would've left Eragon alone, but now Helena and Godric were with them. After a quick discussion, it was decided that Godric would stay behind, since he didn't trust Brom enough to let him ride him. That was when Helena had revealed her animagus abilities.
Brom all but falling on his arse as she morphed into a wolf the size of a horse would forever be a fond memory of Helena's. After recovering from his initial shock Brom had seen the advantage in it. So, after flying back to where Eragon had done The Moronic Act, Helena had morphed into a dire wolf and hunted the urgals down from the ground, while Brom and Saphira scouted and supported her from the air.
According to Saphira, there had been twelve Urgals, and so far, they had killed seven – Brom and Saphira had killed three by themselves, Helena had killed two by herself, and they had killed two in cooperation. That sadly still left five unaccounted for – one or two if you discounted the Urgals up ahead.
Her next thought was interrupted by an ear-shattering roar, quickly followed by trees splinterings like toothpicks, and the frightened squealing of urgals. Helena shook her head to be able to focus again. Narrowing her eyes and tightening her muscles to be ready to spring into action, she got her cue when the sound of a body fleeing through the forest sounded to the left of her.
Helena didn't hesitate and sprang into action. Bolting through the undergrowth, under fallen logs and over stones, the female Dragon Rider was soon upon the urgal. Helena snarled loudly before she sprung on the back of the beast-like creature.
It squealed. Loudly. Helena slashed its back with her claws, making cascades of dark red blood spring from the gashes, and managed to get a good bite into its shoulder. She yelped in surprise, however, as one of the urgal's large hands managed to grasp her and sling her head over tail through the air – a part of her couldn't help but be impressed by the feat, and she found a new respect for the urgals' strength (it wasn't hard to imagine why the people of the land feared them). Helena managed to right her body at the last possible moment, landing just a little bit harshly on her paws. She was now face to face with the urgal, her hackles raised and a low and dangerous growl emanating from her. The urgals pig-like eyes widened and it took a step back. Helena wouldn't let it get away.
She charged again.
The urgal, being too frightened at this point – and Helena couldn't blame it, when it had just been attacked by a dragon, followed by a vicious, giant wolf –, didn't think of fighting, only fleeing. It wouldn't get the chance; Helena was too fast. Jumping him, Helena went for the kill, and practically tore its throat out.
It was only a moment later as she spat the mangled flesh out of her mouth that she felt sick. It wasn't so much the killing part – as much as she hated it, she had killed before – as it was the method she had terminated the creature's life. But she didn't have time to be sick right now. She could do that back at the camp.
Shuddering, Helena ran back to where Saphira and Brom had attacked to see if they needed any help. It quickly became clear that they didn't, however, as they stood over the corpses of two Urgals.
Brom and Saphira looked up as she entered the clearing (which hadn't been there before Saphira had attacked). Brom seemed to tense for a moment as his right hand went to the pommel of his sword, but he quickly got it under control. Instinct died hard, after all. Seeing it was just her, Brom went back to examining one of the Urgals. Not wasting time, Helena's form blurred, before her human self stepped up to them.
"I take it you got it?" Brom asked in his own gruff way.
"Yes," Helena nodded. "So that leaves us with two, if I'm not mistaken."
"Indeed," Brom nodded and stood up. When he saw her properly, he stilled. "You got something..." he motioned at her mouth.
Helena frowned before she wiped her mouth in her arm. She shuddered and gagged as her sleeve was soaked in blood. She quickly cleaned the rest of her mouth, and couldn't wait to get back to camp to get the copper-taste out of her mouth. At least the taste of the blood didn't match the smell – not that it was pleasant, anyhow.
"Were there any more urgals around here?" Brom asked.
"Not that I know of," Helena answered with a sigh. "Wherever they are, their scent isn't near here. What about you, Saphira?"
'I can't smell them either,' Saphira concurred with Helena's conclusion.
"All right, then this is what we're going to do," Brom answered. "Helena, you go back to camp. Tell Godric to start searching, and you stay at the camp. We will need to search from the air to get the last two, it seems."
Helena nodded. "I'll be quick."
~ BWaC ~
"Ouch!"
"Keep still."
"Not if you're going to keep prodding my broken wrist."
"Oh, stop fussing about, kid!"
"I already told you, I'm almost-."
"Almost sixteen, I get that! But that means squat, when you go about acting like a complete and utter pillock!"
Eragon glared at her. Helena couldn't care less, as she prodded his wrist again, trying to get a feel for the injury. It only made the farmer's boy glare harder at her – this time she didn't even react to it. If she had had more control over her magic, she would have used a diagnostic spell, but seeing as Healing Magics were right up there with Transfiguration when it came to its difficulty, she had to settle for prodding Eragon's wrist. A small part of her, she would admit, felt that he utterly deserved it, for being as moronic as he had been.
"Okay, I'm going to smear this paste on it now," Helena told Eragon without looking him in the eyes. "It's going to sting for a few minutes, but it will help with the swelling and dilute some of the pain."
"I don't need the pain to be diluted," Eragon told her in a slighted tone.
Helena rolled her eyes. "Oh, right, I forgot. You are a strong and handsome man, who doesn't need anyone's help. Because you are sixteen. In fact, you are so smart, that you landed in front of a dozen urgals, and let them get away! Nice one, really."
Eragon's jaw snapped shut.
"Besides, the potion you'll be drinking won't be painless either," Helena continued in a softer tone. "While it won't be as painful as actually regrowing your entire bone – and believe me, that hurts like you wouldn't believe –, it will still hurt."
"How long until it's healed?"
"Well, if the potion were as potent as the one the professionals use it would only take a few hours," Helena told him, not mentioning that they usually would simply wave their wand over the break and heal it in seconds. "But I need to make it from scratch, so I would say a few days to a week at most."
"But what about my training?" Eragon frowned. Helena shot him an exasperated look.
"I'm sure Brom has thought of something," she settled with telling him. "You could ignore my warning and train with your right hand, re-breaking your wrist and making it that much worse. If it doesn't heal properly, you will have to use your left hand as your late night dates for the rest of your life."
"My late night dates..?" Eragon looked confused. Then he blushed bright red. "I don't-"
"Oh, yes you do," Helena sighed, getting tired of the prudishness that she had been experiencing since arriving in Alagaësia. All right, perhaps she was feeling extra snappy at the moment because of Eragon's actions, but still. "All men, and quite a few women, do it. It's natural – healthy even."
If anything, it only made Eragon blush a brighter red, if such a thing was even possible. It receded a few moments later, though, when the paste began to work. Eragon winced and looked down at his wrist, but didn't complain.
Having made sure that the wrist was fine for now, Helena bandaged it up again, and turned to the copper cauldron. It had taken some time to set it up, as potion-making was a delicate art, where you needed to control everything – even how hot the cauldron got, and how fast it got hot. It was fortunate that she had thought of bringing the field potions set when she had packed before arriving in the Spine. Not that she recalled, she couldn't help but remind herself. Godric brushed against her mind, and she took a settling breath.
Turning to her beaded bag, Helena stuck her hand down in it and began looking for Advanced Potion-Making by Libatius Borage. It took about two minutes, during which time a few books got scattered around her, but she found it.
"Let's see, let's see..." Helena muttered as she flipped through the pages.
"Are you sure it's safe to brew yourself?" Eragon asked as he threw an uncertain look at the cauldron. Helena's answer was a glare, making Eragon raise his healthy hand in defence. "All right, it is. Sorry for asking."
"I will fully admit that I am not skilled enough to be a Potions Master, but I am good enough to brew N.E.W.T. level potions," Helena told him, leaving no room for argument.
"N.E.W.T.?"
"Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Test," the answer came absent-mindedly from Helena, as she began flipping through the pages of the potions book. "It's the last exam you take in Wizarding Schools. You can keep studying to get a Warlock degree, but unless you want to truly study Alchemy or invent new potions – or become a Potions Master –, N.E.W.T. level Potions are more than enough for most professions. Ah, there it is. The Skeletal Regrowth Mixture."
Eragon sat back, watching curiously as she prepared the ingredients. Helena swore she saw him squirm a bit at some of it, and she couldn't blame him. She remembered the first time she had walked into Paldrige's Potions and Pollutes in Diagon Alley. It was safe to say that she hadn't been able to keep anything down that day.
"Are you really that mad at me?" Eragon asked after a few minutes, his voice small. Helena stopped cutting the fillet of a fenny snake and looked up at her fellow Dragon Rider. He wasn't looking at her. Helena began feeling bad at how she had treated him, but knew it was necessary.
She sighed again.
"Yes, because that stunt back there, that was a real cock up if I have ever seen one," Helena answered. And it was saying something, as she herself wasn't exactly a stranger to cock ups. "But I'm also just... so worried for you."
"Worried?" Eragon asked with a tilted her.
Helena set the potion ingredients aside for the moment, and turned entirely to the younger Rider. "You're me. Me from four years ago, from before all went to hell at home. You remind me of myself when I was younger. Before the war back home... jaded me, I guess is the word for it."
"How so?"
"You care deeply for your loved ones, and you have no shortage of courage. For the most part, you are selfless, and you want to help others. You're not perfect – no one is –, but you have your heart in the right place. You're better than most, and that is enough," Helena told him softly candidly. Then her face hardened. "But you're also rash, and impulsive, and act like your actions do not have consequences. You keep learning all these new things, things that are so magical, so much more than you ever thought was possible. You learn these things, and learn that not only do they exist, but you are able to do them, and you forget to ask yourself if you should do these things."
Eragon frowned in thought.
"Your magic differs from my own, I will be the first one to admit that," Helena continued, as she went back to preparing the ingredients for the potion. "I haven't exactly had time to study the differences yet; Brom will be a much better teacher to teach you the finer details. But with that said, our branches of magic have more in common than not. When you use magic, it drains you physically. When I use magic, it drains my magical core. And when we use magic past our limitations, the consequences can be extremely severe."
"Brom explained that…" Eragon admitted.
"As he should have," Helena nodded decisively. The knife in her hand stilled again, as she looked up at the Blue Rider. "Eragon, I lost a lot of friends in the war. I put them at risk so many times, it's a wonder that none of their deaths are actually my fault. You might not see it yet, but the role that you gained when Saphira hatched for you, is more important than you can possibly imagine. Whether you accept that or not, and whether you decide to join the Varden or not, you will have a role in the upcoming war. Even your decision not to fight will have far-reaching consequences. I was like that as well. If the mistakes I made can help me prevent you from making the same mistakes, then it will all have been worth it."
Eragon looked down on the ground, not answering right away. Good: that meant that he was thinking. And then, "I'm sorry."
"I know you are. I always was."
"But what am I supposed to do?" Eragon asked of her, with a mix between frustration and helplessness. "Should I sit idly by when those I care about are in danger? Should I not do what I think is right, because something might happen?"
"You are supposed to see the bigger picture," Helena told him sternly, but not unkindly. "You need to learn to predict the consequences of your actions before you have acted. I'm not asking you to give up on your friends – that is the last thing I will ever ask you."
"What then?" Eragon asked, getting a bit worked up. It wasn't directed at her, but the whole situation. Good thing, too, or she would give him another bollocking for sure.
"You wanted to save Brom? That's fine. But why in the world did you not kill those urgals?" Helena asked exasperatedly. "And why in the world use your magic to toss all twelve of them, when you have learned that any energy you use with your magic, will be taken from you physically? The better action to take would have been to throw pebbles through their heads."
"I didn't want to kill them."
The quiet admission made Helena hesitate. She was prevented from responding, however, by the sound of two pairs of wings approaching. A few moments later, and Saphira's and Godric's bodies blocked out the sun, colouring the ground around Eragon and Helena in sapphire and ruby colours. Helena bit out a curse as the winds from the dragons' landing were blowing away her ingredients. Thank Merlin she hadn't actually started brewing the potion yet, or all would've been wasted.
The moment Saphira had landed, Brom jumped off of her back looking mighty angry. He approached with wide steps, clearly ready to bite Eragon's head off.
"Before you start," Helena stopped him before he could start. "Could you please move it over to the other side of camp. I have a limited supply of ingredients, and I would really appreciate if they don't get ruined in your spat."
Eragon sent her a betrayed look which she completely ignored. Brom looked annoyed but listened, yanking Eragon up by his (healthy) arm, and pulled him away from Helena and her potion-brewing.
As Brom started tearing into Eragon – both figuratively, and a little bit literally –, the two dragons laid down not far from her, observing what she was doing. Saphira was still glancing over at Eragon and Brom, who were now positioned behind Helena, but clearly didn't find it necessary to break them up. The Blue Dragon had possibly been the most disappointed of them all, and Helena didn't blame her.
"Did you get the last of the urgals?" Helena asked the two dragons.
'We did not,' Godric answered displeased, blowing out black smoke from his nose. 'One got away.'
"Son of a banshee," Helena swore.
'Indeed,' Saphira agreed with a huff. 'If I had known what he was going to do, I would've never landed.'
Helena looked up at the sapphire dragon. 'Like I told Eragon, it wasn't as much that he did what he did, it was that he didn't predict the consequences. I can understand that he wanted to save Brom, but he has got to learn to think before he acts.'
Saphira looked at Helena and blinked. 'I truly hope that you will rub off on my Rider.'
Helena gave her a small smile. While it was true that she had spent the last hour or so trying to get that message across to Eragon, there was also a part of her that hoped he wouldn't have to change for a while. He acted like a kid, because he was a kid. He was sixteen years old. Sixteen-year-olds shouldn't have to worry about the fate of the world.
'You were only fourteen,' Godric pointed out. 'That was when Tom was resurrected. And even before then you had a weight on your shoulders.'
"And what does that have to do with anything?" Helena frowned heavily. She looked over at Godric, who was clearly surprised by her sharp tone. It was understandable, as she had never snapped at him before. No matter what he insisted, a part of him would always be her baby. "So, because I suffered more than him, he isn't allowed to acknowledge the pain? Because he had a whole additional two years without having to worry about someone killing for something out of his control, he has to just deal with it? Is that truly how you feel, Godric?"
'I...' it came from Godric, who was clearly speechless and clueless as to how to handle the situation.
"No matter the circumstances of a person's life, there will be hardships. The hardship that a homeless orphan acknowledges is very different from that of a young lady who has grown up and never known hunger. The young lady might think the world is ending because she is sent to her room without dinner, but the homeless orphan wouldn't think of it before she had gone days without food. That doesn't make the hardship any less real for the young lady."
A growing sense of regret emanated from Godric's person, as the blue dragon laid looking curiously at the argument. Helena looked away from the dragons and back at her potion-making, officially beginning the potion by pouring the slime of thirteen slugs into the cauldron.
'I am sorry, Dear One,' Godric finally managed to tell her. Helena's jaw tightened, but quickly eased out again when she felt how awful Godric was feeling.
The witch-turned-Dragon Rider breathed out harshly through her nostrils.
"Unless you have lived another person's life, you don't have the right to judge them," Helena finally told him. Slowly stirring the slime in the cauldron, she looked up at Godric again, who was looking with sadness behind his blue eyes. "Everyone has hardships, and it takes a toll on us all. I get that it is different with dragons, and that you are, for lack of a better term, more brutal than humans... but that does not make it acceptable in my mind. Many things I can and have accepted are different when it comes to you, My Heart, because everyone has their own beliefs, but this is one thing I will not go on compromise with. I can't stand people who act superior and judge others without any foundation for that judgement. It's one of the few things that truly sets me off."
Neither dragon had any comments to that. Helena had learned that dragons did have different views than humans due to their nature, and as she had said to Godric, she accepted that. The way they were so prideful and vain was endearing even. She could understand that, as she also had a streak of pride in her, one she wasn't ashamed of. But the way that Godric had dismissed Eragon's suffering? How his uncle had been murdered, how he had to say goodbye to all that he knew in the world? It infuriated her, there was no other way of phrasing it.
Helena took a deep breath to calm down. She was bound to make mistakes with the potion if she was worked up, and while the potion she was working on couldn't explode and kill her, it could really injure her.
After having stirred the slug slime counter-clockwise seventy times, Helena looked over at the book to see what was next.
"All right; Add five whole eyes of newt and three toes of frog cut just above the second joint simultaneously. Wait then for seventeen seconds before stirring twenty times clockwise: this will dissolve the reagents, and turn the potion a juniper green..." Helena read out loud, doing as instructed, slowly but surely zoning in on what she was doing and ignoring everything else
Forty minutes passed before Helena was jarred out of her potion-making. She blinked twice, the act being slightly disorienting. Eragon and Brom were sitting not far from her. Brom writing by the looks of it, in a small, worn black book. Eragon had one of her books in his hands, The Handbook for Hippogriff Psychology, and she was confused for a moment about where he had gotten it, before remembering the several books she had discarded on the ground in her search for the potions books. At the moment they were both looking expectantly at her.
"Sorry, what?" Helena asked. "I didn't catch it."
"I asked if the potion is finished soon, or if we should expect to stay here for another night," Brom said gruffly. Despite his tone of voice, Helena could read his body-language well enough by now to tell that he actually wouldn't mind. He then cast a queer look at the potion.
"It should be finished within twenty minutes," Helena answered, as she turned her attention back to the potion and the small hourglass beside it. "I just need to add a blind-worm's sting and some grounded dragon-scales."
"Dragon-scales?" Eragon asked with wide eyes.
Helena glanced up quickly. "Sorry, a slip of the tongue: I mean wyvern-scales. I keep forgetting that the term isn't interchangeable here. The wyverns of Earth have become almost immune to magic due to how much wizards hunted them. Adding them to a potion in the right quantity and at the right moment will enhance the magical effects."
"And I really need to drink it? It doesn't look very appealing."
"No, it doesn't, and, honestly, it tastes like goblin piss," Helena answered bluntly and without mercy. Eragon turned a shade of green reminiscent of the potion.
"Got personal experience with that, have you?" Brom asked amused. Helena glared at him. "Oh gods, it isn't like the basilisk, is it?"
"No, it isn't," Helena rolled her eyes. "It's just a figure of speech back home. And, yes, Eragon, you will have to drink it. I've made enough for a week. You will have to drink a small cup of it each morning and evening, and it should speed up the healing exponentially. And like I said when I applied the paste on your wrist, it's not going to be pleasant. I've never tried to heal breaks with potions, only with wand-waving. When that happens, it kind of feel like ants are walking and gnawing on your break."
"What?" Eragon squeaked.
Helena scoffed. "Be happy that you still have any bones in your arm. Repairing bones might be mighty unpleasant, but regrowing them entirely hurts like a bitch."
"You mentioned that before: how do you lose bones?"
"Magic gone awry," Helena grimaced.
"Helena, how does your potion work?" Brom asked with a curious look on his face.
"I actually don't know the details, just that it will work on breaks," Helena admitted sheepishly.
"No, I mean how do potions work in general?" Brom clarified. "While we have something similar here, it is nowhere near as powerful as to be able to decrease the recovery time for a break from months to mere days. Gertrude, the healer in Carvahall, knew a few tricks which would help with a fever, and the elves know more than just a bit about plants and herbs, but neither could make something like that."
Helena looked thoughtful. "Before I can explain it, I need to explain the fundamentals of how wizardkind view magic, as it may differ from your own. I can't be certain, but I would rather be safe than sorry."
Eragon stopped looking sickly at the bubbling potion, his eyes snapping up to look at her excitedly. Even Brom looked excited at the prospect, if it was even possible for the gruff storyteller. Saphira also seemed very interested. Godric, however, still laid over by the edge of the camp, apparently still thinking of the argument he had been involved in.
"Please do," Brom nodded a moment after, trying, and failing, to hide how much he wanted to know.
"It was explained to me by my mentor a few years ago," Helena started telling them, remembering back to what Dumbledore had taught her in her Sixth Year. "He was the strongest wizard in the world at that time, possibly except for the Dark Lord. He explained how it was really only in the last century or so that wizards and witches began wondering how magic worked, as we were influenced by how Muggles had seen the world for several hundred years."
"A century," Eragon breathed in disbelief. "Isn't a century a rather long period of time."
Helena looked slightly annoyed at Eragon for interrupting her, making the boy shrink under her look. Mentally she grunted, realising she probably wasn't over how Eragon had acted yet. With that said, she did answer him.
"For a society which has been around in one form or another for seven millennia, a century is like a blink of an eye," Helena told him. Both Eragon and Brom looked gobsmacked at that piece of information, but Helena ignored it for the moment in favour of continuing her explanation on magic. "There are multiple explanations, but this is the one that I feel comes closest to the truth. The way I learned it, everything has a story. In every action, in every plant, in every creature, and in every rock. Even in the very air. They have their own personality, their own meaning, and their own purpose."
"How so?" Brom looked confused.
"You're probably aware of them already, although you don't pay attention to it," Helena explained amusedly. "A rock is unyielding. A tree is reborn each year. A gust of wind is free. Of course, these are not literal truths."
Brom nodded as he seemed to grasp the concept somewhat. "I think I get it. They are symbols. Like the dawn is a symbol of new hope."
Helena made a face. "Not quite, but close enough. Now, a spell hears the story of the object in focus. With the help of the witch or wizard, the spell then adds to it. It is a symbiosis, if you will." The witch-turned-Dragon Rider paused to see if the two humans and dragon were still with her. "Now, potioneers use that story. A plant is not just a plant, and an animal is not just an animal. It is life. It is death. It is food, or it is poison. It might be pure, or it might be corrupt. It might flourish in the warmth, or shrivel and shy away from it. Those are the stories that you add to a potion, which then weaves them together, making them greater than they were before. If you get it right, you can do nigh everything. Mind you, I'm not quite at that level, and still need my books to brew many potions."
"The way you explain it, it isn't that far off from how the elves see magic, though it does sound like your explanation is a bit more philosophical," Brom admitted, an impressed look on his face. "Your explanation also fits in with the Ancient Language."
"How so?" Eragon asked with a frown.
"Well, in the Ancient Language each object, each person, and even each idea has one True Name," Brom explained. "If how this wizard society sees magic is taken into account, then it would mean that each true name encompasses the object's 'story'."
Helena hummed curiously, remembering how Solembum had mentioned 'true name' in his rant about names. "It is an interesting theory, but not one I can debate on. I know too little of the Ancient Language and how it works."
"And we will have to rectify that in the coming weeks," Brom grunted. She might just be seeing things, but he seemed thankful for what she had shared. "In any case, it can wait. The moment the potion is done, we need to get moving."
Helena nodded and turned back to the cauldron, adding the blind-worm's sting and grounded wyvern scales.
~ BWaC ~
Their small group didn't make much headway that day. That didn't matter much, as Brom had decreed that they would spend a few weeks in the mountainous region training: Eragon would have to learn to use his head, and Helena would need to learn about Alagaësian magic and sword fighting. As she herself had put it, she wasn't without the need of learning how to think in a sword fight. The battles she would undoubtedly be in, in the months and possibly years to come, weren't like the fights she had been in before. This would be with sword and shield and armour and a few magicians, and not with a wand. And even if it was a fight of magic, the magic of Alagaësia she had encountered so far was different enough from her own, that she wasn't even confident that it would be done in the same way as on Earth.
Helena had ridden on Alfsigr, even though she knew now the Cushioning Charm saved her from having her thighs slashed open (though, she should really make a saddle at some point). Eragon couldn't understand why, and was even jealous of her, as he was now earth-bound until his wrist had fully healed. It clearly annoyed him even more that she wouldn't tell him, and she let him be: it was too personal for Eragon to be told about.
Godric had stayed oddly quiet ever since their spat earlier that day. It wasn't like the ruby dragon was a chatty person to begin win, but since setting out for the day, he hadn't said a word to her. Of course, their minds were still connected, but Helena couldn't tell what Godric was thinking. And it wasn't like when he was but a hatchling, when he couldn't form any actual thoughts. Now he was actively hiding his thoughts from her, and although Helena could tell it wasn't because he had taken offence over what she had said, it still hurt.
The witch-turned-Dragon Rider couldn't help but sport a grin when they stopped for the night. Brom had tried to rectify Eragon's... inexperience in thinking, Helena thought was the most polite way of putting it, by presenting him with various scenarios, which the farmer's boy had to solve. Helena didn't go unscathed either, but she had already learned the hard way to use her head. Besides, it was tougher for Brom to come up with scenarios for her, as he didn't know the limits of her magic. Still, it wasn't her who looked like her head was going to explode.
"Eragon-." Brom started as he stirred the rabbit stew. It was from that morning, but the number one rule when you were on the run, was that you shouldn't waste anything. That included rabbit stew, which would be tasteless after spending a day in a plastic bag.
"Can't it wait till after we have eaten?" Eragon whined, throwing a look that was a cross between being exasperated and begging. "You've thrown scenarios at me all day, and it doesn't help that my wrist itches so much that I want to rip it off." As he finished the sentence, he threw a glare at Helena.
"Don't give me that look," Helena dismissed him easily. "It's an itching wrist for a week or a useless wrist that actually hurts for several months." Eragon's face scrunched together and Saphira made coughing sounds which translated to dragon-laughter.
"I still could use a break, just while we eat."
"I wasn't going to throw another scenario at you," Brom told him blandly. "I was going to ask if you could hand me the bag with the herbs in. I'm going to try to make the stew not taste like something Sloan would cook."
"Oh..." Eragon blushed. He handed said bag to the storyteller, who looked mighty amused. "Sorry."
Helena smiled and shook her head in amusement, before she stood up and walked to the edge of the camp. Looking down on her left palm, the one with the mark on it – gedwëy insignia, Brom called it –, and took a deep breath. Reaching for her magic, the mark lit up lightly, and she began reciting the incantation.
"Protego Totallum. Salvio Hexia," it came firmly and without waver from Helena. She let the magic rush out through her mark, a feeling she had gotten used to by now. The magic followed her command and began forming a bubble around the small camp. While it would be invisible when she was finished, while she was still casting, the enchantments could be spotted by the slight colouration and the distortion of light.
"Helena, what are you doing?" Eragon asked. Helena paused and glanced over her shoulder. Both the two humans and two dragons were looking with wide eyes at the expanding dome of defensive enchantments.
"Casting protective enchantments," she answered. "Now, shush. I need to concentrate." She could all but feel the way their eyes bored into her back, but she ignored it, and grasped her magic again. "Cave Inimicum. Muffliato. Repello Muggletum. Absconditia Visius. Protego Totallum. Salvio Hexia. Cave Inimicum..."
The female Dragon Rider repeated the incantations over and over as she slowly but surely made a full circle around their camp. When she ended where she had begun, several bubbles were wrapped around them, giving a light humming as they mixed and amplified each other. Helena poked out with her magic to check if they were working properly, and when she was certain they were, she let go of them. The humming got a bit louder, before fading away as the enchantments became invisible as they should be.
Helena let out a deep breath, as she went back and sat by the fire.
"That was quite impressive," Brom admitted. Looking up at the silver-haired man with a raised eyebrow, Helena had to fight a grin at how disgruntled he looked at having to admit it.
"Why'd you do it tonight, but not the other nights?" Eragon asked.
"Before now, the drawbacks outweighed the advantages of having them up," Helena answered.
"What do you mean?" Eragon prodded again.
"Well, what has changed in the last forty-eight hours?" Helene asked in a deadpanned tone and gave him a meaningful look. The male Dragon Rider winced and looked away. "I have no idea if the enemy can sense these wards from a distance. No wizard should be able to sense them, but my magic and your magic are different, or at least the way it's used is different. I didn't want to alert any potential pursuers of our location. But now we know that someone is after us, with one of the urgals getting away. We don't know when they will be back, nor how many there will be. If they come back, we can be certain that there will be more than a dozen in numbers, as they were beaten rather easily by you – however foolishly you did it. Even if they can sense the wards, the wards will give us the time we need to prepare."
"Good thinking," Brom complimented.
This time Helena couldn't help but grin at the man. "Watch out, old man. People might begin to think that you aren't as grumpy and unforgiving as you would like them to think."
Brom only glared in response, as Eragon and the dragons stifled their laughter.
"As far as sensing your magic," Brom commented as he closed his eyes. Helena perked up and looked intensely at him, berating herself for not asking the story-teller sooner to check on it. "I can sense it, just like I would be able to sense wards of other magicians. With that said, if I wasn't actively sensing for it, it wouldn't pop out at me."
Helena considered it. A part of her had hoped that her magic was different enough that the Alagaësian magicals wouldn't be able to sense it at all, but that was nothing but wishful thinking. It wasn't the worst-case scenario either, however, as, as Brom had put it, the magic didn't 'pop out' at them. She also had to consider that Brom was inside the wards at the moment, and that they were designed to avoid detection from the outside... It was enough for now, but she needed to investigate further. Brom was sure to be willing to assist her in that, as he seemed as fascinated with her kind of magic as she was with Alagaësian magic.
"Helena, what are hippogriffs?" Eragon asked, making her eyes snap up at him.
A fond smile spread across her lips as Buckbeak was brought to the forefront of her mind. "They're a magical species from back home," Helena began telling him. "They have the bodies, hind legs, and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings, and heads of giant eagles..."
~ BWaC ~
'Helena?' Godric's voice sounded in her head. In the silence of the night, which was only broken by the rustling of bushes as foxes and wolves went about and the odd bat flying through the air, it was incredibly loud, even if it wasn't physical.
Brom, Eragon, and Saphira were all sleeping, Helena having offered to take the first watch that evening – that they had wards up now was no excuse to get lazy. Helena had been more than just a bit surprised when the storyteller hadn't argued with her, but simply accepted it with a grunt, after which he had laid down on his blanket and went straight to sleep. Helena hadn't even tried to hide her surprise. Evidentially, the events of the last few days had earned her some trust at least. At that thought, Helena's surprised expression had changed into a soft smile.
The Dragon Rider in question looked up from her book on magical theory. 'Godric?' The ruby dragon blinked in response. 'Is there something the matter?'
'I...' Godric started, and then shook his head. Rising from his position about a dozen metres from her, he walked as quietly as he could over to her and laid down beside her. He moved his head so his blue eyes on level with her green ones. 'I want to talk about what happened earlier.'
Helena's face soured slightly as she remembered, but she didn't deny him.
'I'm sorry for what I said,' Godric apologised, the regret flowing from him. 'I still don't understand, but I want to. I tend to forget that I am barely two months old, and that as much as my instincts tell me, you also have much wisdom to share. You are nothing like the farmer's boy. You have lived through a war and so much more. I shouldn't dismiss that.'
Helena sighed and put her book away. 'I am also sorry for how I reacted. I should've said it in a different manner.'
'Please don't apologise,' Godric insisted, his determination shining through his eyes and his mind. 'You have accepted so many of my... oddities, as you call them, despite not agreeing with them. And I admire you for that. I admire you greatly for your ability to... how did you put it? Place yourself in other peoples' footwear?'
Helena's lips twitched. 'Close enough.'
Godric nodded. 'You try to see things from their view, even when you don't agree with that particular view. You try to understand. But while I admire that, it is also foreign to me.'
'And that is not your fault,' Helena told him firmly. 'You are subject to your instincts more than I. But you are not an animal. You can learn to be more than your instincts.'
'I know,' Godric breathed out. 'I still don't understand what you said earlier, but I am going to try, Dear One.'
Helena smiled lovingly at him. 'I know you will, My Heart.'
Humming deeply in his throat, Godric lowered his head down into Helena's lap, where she immediately began to pet and scratch him.
~ BWaC ~
Author's Noted: There are no entirely new scenes in this chapter, but, as with many of the original chapters, I have expanded on a few scenes. This time it wasn't one particular scene, but simply here and there where I felt it was needed.
To my British readers – or, in fact, anyone with knowledge about British terminology and slang: if you see me slip up with something, then please do point it out, either in a review or with a PM. I've said this before, and I'll repeat it; English is not my first language, and I would argue that I have been influenced more by American English than British English when it comes to phrases and slang. Thank you in advance.
Lastly: I can't take credit for how Helena explained magic in this chapter. The one who made that up is Steelbadger on . If you are interested in Harry Potter and the Lord of the Rings, I really do advice you to take a look at his story, 'The Shadow of Angmar'. It is truly a fantastic piece of work, and, in my humble opinion, one of a kind.
Synthesis
