A/N: "Yay! Another chapter!" right? Thank you, my readers/reviewers. This truely is a great story, and I would like to hear from you. Enjoy your reading. I give you chapter seven.
I do not own the Inheritance series. All ideas contained in this story are NOT original.
The Comfort of a Friend
Orium stood before her with the setting sun turning his scales an inky black, a hare clamped between his powerful jaws. Blood dripped down his chin from the tiny puncture wounds in the animal's side. There was a distinct amount of pride in his eyes as he dropped the hare, limp and oddly angled, to the ground in front of him.
Would you like some? he asked.
No, thank you, Orium. I don't eat meat, Daramay responded, pulling out a piece of bread and a hunk of cheese. She took a drink of water and noted with dull perception that her supply was dwindling. They would have to reach the Ramr River soon, or there could be problems.
She expected Orium to ask why she refused the meat, but he simply went ahead, gorging on the carcass. Not wanting to watch this display, Daramay turned away and began laying out her bedroll. She sat upon this, watching the sun slip below the horizon and munching on her dinner with disinterest. She didn't bother building a fire. She had stopped doing so when she realized that the column of smoke was moving in their direction two days ago. It could be just another traveler like herself, but then again, it might not be. Better not to make a target of themselves if possible. The fire was too obvious against the night sky. As she stared, a pillar of gray smoke began to unfurl a few miles back along the plains, as she knew it would. She sighed deeply.
Does it bother you so much? Orium sat by her left leg, mimicking her gaze as he watched the smoke sway lazily from some unknown campfire.
I know it shouldn't. It's idiotic to assume he's following us, but I can't help but feel that we may have someone tracking us.
She looked down at Orium, and he met her gaze calmly. Does it bother you that it bothers me?
She couldn't help but think she saw a smile on his face.
Of course! Your worries are my worries, remember that. Besides, I have the same feelings. I think whoever is on the plains is trailing us. Whether or not they come in friendship remains to be seen.
Your speech has improved greatly, Daramay commented.
It should be. You talk enough to keep me constantly on the lookout for new words.
He was definitely smiling now. Obviously happy with his tactful, little remark, he got up in an arrogant kind of fashion, took two steps, and fell in a rabbit hole. The prairie was covered with them, and some were very cleverly hidden below knotted spots of grass. Daramay burst out laughing. Orium collected himself, looking sourly at her as he climbed out.
What are you laughing at? he asked sullenly. Instead of answering, she went into another fit of laughter. After a few moments, Orium's rigidness broke, and he joined in. He didn't laugh out loud, but Daramay could hear it in her mind.
The rest of the evening slipped by in similar ways, many jokes shared and a few stories told, all of them from Daramay and her days in the forest. By the time they turned in for the night, all of their worries had been forgotten.
The last bit of sunlight struck the shell and turned it to a brilliant dark piece like a fragment of a mosaic. He sat with its shards scattered across his lap. He had already built the fire, taking special care to fan the flames so that the smoke would rise higher. He wanted her to know he was here.
His anger boiled just below the surface, and it was all he could do to keep from running to her camp and strangling her. He could probably do it. She was young, and therefore given to stupidity and pride. But he wasn't going to take his chances; not with an elf. He could wait a little longer.
When he had first come upon the shards of the egg, a helpless wrath had overcome him. He had been sure that without this treasure, his life would surely come to an end when he reached the capital. Yet, through his anger and fear, he also felt a grim sort of hope. If he could find a way to make his idea work…but he would have to catch up with the girl. That much was clear.
As night fell down around him, he gazed off into the distance. He was smiling.
When Grayson went inside for supper, he ate as quickly as he could, eager to return to Ellesmaria. As soon as he had finished eating, he ran back to the wood.
Ellie, he called.
Grayson, she answered.
She was still sitting in her little hut, but now she was looking up at him. For a while, they just sat staring at one another until she walked over and sat in his lap. With her lying there, Grayson began thinking.
Now I have reason to go away, he mused. I will start training Ellesmaria, and soon, we will begin our training together as dragon and Rider.
He thought of the future a little longer, while absent-mindedly stroking a sleepy Ellesmaria.
I've heard that the elves used to train the Riders, but there are few, besides themselves, who know where they dwell, and I am not one of those.
He was going to have to find someone who could lead him to the elves. The problem was, he did not know exactly where to find that someone. The longer he thought about it, however, one place seemed to be the most idealistic to travel to.
We'll leave in the morning, he said to himself and Ellesmaria. She lifted her head and opened her eyes, jolting from sleep. Sorry, Grayson apologized.
She stretched and yawned, digging her talons into Grayson's leg. He winced.
Sorry, she said. He could feel her sincerity and concluded that she had repeated the word because she had felt the same emotion that he had, when he had said it.
You learn quickly, don't you? he posed. Oh! he said, suddenly remembering. I forgot all about it. Are you hungry? She cocked her head up at him as if trying to understand what he had said. Do you want something to eat—food? he spoke slowly.
Again, Ellesmaria had to think briefly, but this time, she surely understood. She relayed the feeling of affirmation to him and licked her lips.
Wait here.
He took her gently off of his lap and set her on the ground before dashing back to the house. After he was sure that no one was in the kitchen, he grabbed a plate and speared enough chicken for two people on it. Upon returning to the wood, he found Ellesmaria once again in her hut. He set the plate down in front of the opening. She put her face down into the meat and began eating, though not savagely. When she had finished, there were only a few bites left. Grayson decided to leave these out in case she got hungry during the night.
They sat, Grayson talking to her, she watching his lips and listening to his voice, for hours. Long after the sun had gone down, Grayson conveyed the fact that he had to leave her again.
I will see you in the morning—after the sun comes up, he promised. She let out only a small whine in protest, but consented. He scratched the underside of her chin, and she began her odd purring. Stay safe. He hoped that she caught the concern in his voice.
As he walked away, he turned around to see her. It took him a moment to find her in the scene. Just a short while ago, the bright pinks, oranges, and yellows of sunset were glowing on her right side. Now, the night around them was mirrored on her silver scales, the crescent moon reflected brightly on her left side.
Grayson smiled and ran back to her. Picking her up, he carried her to his room where they slept the night through, Ellesmaria tucked against his side, purring with delight.
