The One Originally Written After I Met Christopher Paolini
or, not so simply:
Chapter 8: A Promise, A Name, And A New Appreciation For Art
Or, even, Chapter 8: Chloe's Chapter
!REVAMPED!
CHLOE
"How's training going?" Chloe looked up from her bowl of soup to her mother's questioning eyes. Chloe have always wanted the same captivating eyes as her mother. Instead she had inherited her father's dull grey ones.
"Chloe?" Viviana prompted softly. She was still set against her daughter becoming a dragon rider, but Chloe knew that she was trying to make an effort to maintain their relationship as it was.
"Training is…fine." Chloe finally answered, tone horribly monotonous as she lifted another spoonful of soup into her mouth. It was cold from her eating so slow, and had probably tasted better when it had been warm. It was a mixture of roots and spices that Angela was teaching Viviana to pick. Viviana watched her worriedly for a moment until Chloe sighed in exasperation, tossing her wooden spoon onto the stone table with unnecessary force.
"You know what? No it's not. I'm completely horrible at all of this stuff. I can't fight, I can't say the right things, and I still haven't been able to do any magic. I'm failing him, I know I am. Eragon is—" Chloe stopped, taking in deep, unsteady breath. "I don't know what's wrong with Eragon. For the past few days he's been so impatient and in a black mood all the time. I know he's trying to teach me and begin patient isn't easy, but something has gotten under his skin, and I have no clue what. I don't even think it's my suckish skills at being a rider anymore," Chloe said with a bitter laugh.
"Love, I'm sure it'll work out. You're a good girl. You can do anything you set your mind to. I understand this is overwhelming for you. But I know you can do this. You just have a block in here," Viviana tapped Chloe's head lightly with a finger. "You need to believe you can do this, or then you will fail."
"But what if I do fail?" Chloe whispered, trying to keep the her tears in their proper place: out of sight. "Mom if I fail, it's not just me. You remember the little white dragon that started all of this in dragon rider business? Well I've got him too. If he—" Chloe stopped as her breathing hitched and the tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. She blinked rapidly, trying to hold them back.
"I should go. I need to practice my swordsmanship or whatever." Chloe said, hastily standing up. Viviana watched her sadly.
"I love you, Chloe." Viviana said. The concern was evident even in her voice. Chloe offered her a shaky smile.
"You too," she said, before quickly leaving the room. She follow the stone hallway to the outside, and then retraced her steps to what she had begun to refer to as the Training Glade or the Mini Arena of Death. Eragon had yet to arrive, so she picked up one of the old swords leaning against a tree where she had left it the day before. Angela had picked them up along with a few other supplies from wherever the hell she had been before. Chloe hadn't bothered herself with the details. The swords were battered and dull, and Chloe had been weary of having to actually use one against Eragon. It turned out that her concern had been unfounded. The blades could be blocked by magic, something Eragon didn't even do. She's seen why after their first lesson. He was fast and skilled enough that she never even came close to actually hitting him, though she had received quite a few bruising blows by the flat of his blade. She'd been careful to hide those form her mother.
Picking up the blade, she eyed it critically. In theory, swordplay didn't seem all that difficult. She thought it was something that she might even start to like, until she had to actually use it against people to defend her life. And while Eragon had praised her footwork—a skill that stemmed from her long years of dancing—his praise had turned mocking as he instructed her to stop dodging his blows and actually attack back. Because that was what she tended to do; side step and duck his blows, parry a few, and dance out of the way of the rest, much to Eragon's frustration.
Taking in a deep breath, she recalled the moves that Eragon had been teaching her since her lessons started three days ago. Basic blocks and thrusts, nothing fancy. Finally ready, she took her stance at the center of the clearing. Slowly at first, she ran throughout the motions. Thrust, block. Thrust, block. Her movements began to flow together, and her swings picked up speeds as an imaginary foe began to take form before her. She blocked, thrust, and then blocked again. Parry, duck, sidestep, disarm. She pivoted and she was standing before the same tree that the two swords had been leaning against, only now the second sword was gone. Just as she heard Eragon's voice in her head (figuratively) telling her never to let her guard down, she spun to her left, and then brought her sword up to block an imaginary blow out of instinct. Only it wasn't imaginary, and the sound of metal against metal rang through the clearing as strain from the unexpected blow shot up Chloe's arm. Her dark haired opponent smirked.
"What the hell are you doing, Murtagh?" Chloe asked in surprise.
"I have seen you train. You do fine until you begin to doubt your abilities. You execute a motion well enough—for a novice student—but just when you start to string them together you fall apart. You are not confident enough in your abilities," Murtagh said with a shrug as though he were commenting on the whether.
"Shut up, Murtagh," Chloe warned, shoving his sword away with a push of her own. She began to walk away, only to freeze as Murtagh's blade appeared in front of her.
"Ah, ah, ah," Murtagh said, smirking once more. "I can't let you go that easily," he said. Then his smirk disappeared as he barked, "Defend yourself!" he whipped his sword towards himself, only to stab back at her. She knew the move; Eragon had shown her the exact parry to counteract it, but Chloe spun to the side instead at the last moment, unsure. She tried to evade most of Murtagh's sword thrusts, blocking a few with the flat of her blade. But she never attacked.
"There are times when you must attack, Chloe!" Murtagh instructed as she moved away from another one of his blows. She shrieked as his sword flew through the air where her head had been just a moment ago. She froze alongside Murtagh as she reached a hand a hand to her cheek. A thin crimson line was there, nicked from a chip on Murtagh's sword. She moved further up to her hair, eyes widening. Murtagh was fighting laughter.
"You did not just cut my hair!" she screeched as she fingered the severed lock. The smug look set her off. She jabbed her sword forward, resuming their fight. Not that they were exchanging blows. Whoa, I'm doing it? She suddenly realized to herself. She faltered, and Murtagh easily knocked her sword out of her hands, advancing so that one boot was over her blade. Chloe stumbled backwards and tripped, landing hard on her backside.
"You doubted yourself," Murtagh informed her as he offered her his hand.
"You just tried to kill me." Chloe spot as she slapped his hand away and pulled herself up.
"If I wanted to kill you, make no mistaken you would have been dead already." His confident smirk disgusted her.
"Was there a point to any of this, or were you just bored and thought that antagonizing me would be fun?" Chloe asked. She knew he was right. Hell, he didn't need magic or a weapon to kill her if he wanted her dead. His bare hands sufficed, what was of course if his stupid, arrogant smirk didn't do her in first. And boy was it close. No, it wasn't the fact that he was so capable of killing her that made her angry. She doubted he'd lay a hand on her here, in the dragon hold. And she didn't think he was the type to killed for the sake of killing. It was that he could see right through her that bothered her.
"Yes, actually, I did have a point to make. You can do all of this—" Murtagh gestured vaguely around them. "You are your only obstacle. If you would just—" Murtagh began, but Chloe shook her head furiously.
"Would you stop that?" she demanded. "All of you! You all keep saying I need to believe in myself and that if I do I can do anything I want. Well did any of you consider that maybe I just can't? I can't? I can't, I CAN'T, okay? I just…can't." She said. She turned to leave. "Just do me a favor and leave me alone, all right?" She called over her shoulder.
"Of course. Your wish is my command, princess. Next time I see Galbatorix, I will be sure to pass the message along." Murtagh called out from behind her. Chloe turned around, flashing a rather rude hand gesture at Murtagh. It didn't look like Eragon was showing up any time soon anyway.
Without conscious thought, her feet began to take her to her waterfall, the one that she had discovered on her fist day at the hold.
Where is Moony? Chloe thought to herself. He had taken to hunting small rodents and then coming to find her when he was finished eating, curling up next to her. As he licked his paws clean she would talk to him, and though he couldn't answer with words she knew he listened attentively, and she couldn't help the rush of contentment that flew through her at the importance he could see him give her in his gold eyes. His unofficial name was Moony, something that he hated. But it gave her a small dose of comfort, and so he tolerated it.
Moony! She called out with her mind. She was much more confident in that ability, and no longer felt she would lose herself outside of her body. Not to mention she liked the privacy it allowed her with her dragon hatchling. She felt her companion's presence, and she looked to her left to see the white dragon padding beside her. She smiled down fondly at him.
"D'you eat already?" she asked. The feelings she received were affirmative. Chloe tickled the back of the dragon neck. He snapped his jaws playfully at her, and then squealed excitedly and dived into the water. Chloe laughed at him, her anger with Murtagh settling in the back of her mind. She sat, content to watch the little white dragon swim through the water, jaws snapping excitedly at passing fish. Suddenly he stopped, methodically using his paws to stay afloat in the water.
"Something catch your eye?" she asked out loud. The dragon dived quickly under the water without bothering to answer her with some any sort of brush of the mind. Chloe rolled her eyes as she watched the spot where the little dragon had dived.
Ten seconds passed.
Fifteen, and Chloe began to feel uneasy.
Twenty seconds and Chloe reached out frantically with her mind, alarm spreading through her as she felt the barest thread of a connection between them.
"Damn it," She hissed, kicking off her boots and rushing into the water. She dove after her dragon, and was immediately engulfed in the icy depths of the water. She struggled against the instinct to shut her eyes against the raw coldness that stung her eyes. She allowed herself to skink deeper into the water, eyes scanning the increasingly darkening water. She realized that the small lake was much deeper than she had originally thought, and that it resembled more of an abnormally large well as the earth around her was lined by flat stone bricks. Just as she reached the bottom of the murky pool, her eyes caught sight of a ghostly white snake poking from in between a pair of rocks. Not a snake, a dragon's tail! She realized.
Both puzzle and relieved, Chloe was finally able to acknowledge the burning pressure in her lungs. So she swam upwards until her head broke free of the surface, and he took in a deep breath, diving once more, prepared to help her little dragon from wherever it was stuck. Chloe swam down to where he had been, but she couldn't spot him. Panic overtook her once more as she swam towards the spot where he had been just moments before, and she began patting at the rock frantically, trying to find the small indentation that he must have swum into.
There was nothing, until her arm shot through the rock unexpectedly, and her arm was buried to her shoulder in the rock, or lack thereof.
What the hell? She thought to herself as she felt around the gap in the rock. It was and dark enough to be overlooked by the eye as mere rock, yet large enough for an infant or lithe human body to swim through. Chloe carefully pulled herself into the space, wincing as the rock scratched at her bare arms and the same cheek Murtagh had cut. She kept her arms out in front of her to prevent herself from swimming headlong or face first into anymore rock. She was stunned to realize that she was in something of an underwater tunnel. Fear twisted her gut, for both herself and her dragon. She either had just enough air to swim back, or to hopefully find her dragon now.
A slight encouraging warmth brushed against her mind, alleviating her forming headache. With determination, Chloe pushed forward. She hadn't been swimming for much longer before the tunnel opened up, and she instinctively swam for what she hoped was the surface.
With a gasp, Chloe inhaled a lungful of air. If possible, the underwater cavern—for that's what she assumed it was—was even darker than the water she had just swum through. She couldn't tell if the air was warm or cold as her body had gone worryingly numb, and the only sounds in the cavern came from the sloshing water against the cavern walls and her own teeth chattering in between her labored breaths. There was a squeal and a splash, and then she was being nudged by the unmistakable scaly snout of a dragon hatchling. She set a trembling hand on his back, allowing him to guide her through the water in the opposite direction she had been facing. She felt what seemed like an elevated floor or rock, and pulled herself onto it. She lied there for a moment, groaning from the stiffness in her muscles even as her body trembled. When she had regained herself a little, she pushed herself to her feet cautiously, just in case the ceiling was low. It seemed that it wasn't, and once she reached full height she stretched her arms out. She couldn't touch the ceiling. At her feet, she felt her hatchling wrap himself around her leg like a cat.
She wished more than anything for warmth right now, for fire. But how would she create a fire without wood or even a flint to start a spark? She was reminded all too well of the overwhelming darkness she had experienced arriving to this world. Pushing those thoughts away from her mind, she tried to recall instead the words of the Ancient Language that Eragon had used to summon the werelights, but then she realized that she couldn't remember the exact pronunciation. Deciding that she would rather live than be drained of life, she discarded the idea. Unsure whether it was instinct or fatigue or some unknown third factor, she commanded, "Brisingr!" Her voice rang strongly throughout the cavern in confident echoes, and flames erupted along the walls around her. Chloe felt her already weak energy drop alarmingly fast, and she swayed in place for a moment. The unexpected magic had drained her even more than the swim into the cavern. She staggered over to one of the flames on the walls, which she quickly learned were actually lit torches. She squeezed the water out of her hair, and then unhooked one of the heavy torches from its bracket in the rock wall. She took another deep, steadying breath, and then slowly turned to face the ret of the cavern.
Obviously someone was once here to have put the torches, but the tunnel… the way its shaped, Chloe thought. It seems too perfect to be natural… The tunnel and torches reminded her a lot of the tunnel they had all used to reach the Dragon Hold. Some sort of backdoor, then? In case of emergencies? No, it would be too small to be used like that. The elves were lithe, sure, but the human riders were surely burlier than could fit. I barely made it through. And the dragons? Ha! As if they could fit, and their riders wouldn't leave them behind. So what the heck is this place? With her dragon at her heels, Chloe proceeded forward carefully, her torch held out in front of her. She noticed the cavern walls slowly transition from rugged to smooth seamlessly into a perfect tunnel, confirming her belief that magic had been present.
It almost slipped past her, and she did a double take to make sure she had really seen it. Chloe walked closer to the wall, touching the chilled stone. Only it wasn't stone, or at least not the stone that it was before. Her fingers glided over smooth tile that was nearly the same color as the wall. She'd only spotted it by the glint it cast by the torchlight. She turned, realizing that a sprawling mosaic was set into the cavern wall, stretching out further into the tunnel. She glanced down at her hatchling, who seemed just as curious and intrigued.
The images were breathtaking. Incredibly realistic pictures made of precious stones and gems came together to form what seemed like a live and moving picture. At first there was only countryside; rolling plains willed with gorgeous flowers that gave way to a tall forest; a great sandy desert became a flowing sea that rose into mountains that reached into the sky. The farther she walked, the more intricate the mosaic became. Suddenly she spotted great beast composed of rubies, sapphires, and gold every other precious metal and gem she could think of.
"Dragons," she breathed. She recognized them, yet she did not. They held not the same composed form that Saphira and Thorn possessed. They were wild and untamable; their eyes held no compassion for their prey. Impressive jets of fire spewed from their cavernous jaws, engulfing that which stood in their path. Then, just as suddenly, the mosaic changed. There were thin figures, all carved beautifully. Men and women, some with hair of silver, others with hair of onyx took shape. They danced across the cave walls, joyous smiles lighting their faces. Even carved from stone the elves where graceful, and Chloe was certain she could hear their melodious laughter ring through the cavern, but she couldn't bring herself to look away from the mosaic to see if she was truly alone with her dragon.
Once more the mosaic changed. The image of a forest clearing came into view, a ruby dragon hatchling in the center. A surge of affection flowed through Chloe at the sight. The red hatchling. She was about to move into the next picture scene when a prickle of unease filled her. She studied the mosaic closer, until her nose was nearly pressed against the rubies that made up the hatchling. Was that…fear that carved in the hatchlings eyes? Unease drifted into dread inside of her. No, this couldn't be…
It was evident in the next scene. The dragon hatchling was backed against a tree, fear clear as daylight in her golden eyes. Before her stood a young elf, a spear at hand.
No…
But it was too late. Her eyes had slid onto the scene after, unable to block the image of the black haired elf as he stabbed at the hatchling. There was a pained wail that echoed in the cave, and Chloe was surprised to find that it came from her. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she continued to gaze at the mosaic killing, unable to tear her eyes away. It seemed that the image had come alive, and repeatedly the elf stabbed, and repeatedly the hatchling cried as she sobbed. She wasn't sure how long she and her baby dragon lay there until she finally willed herself to stand, to continue the story.
She wished she hadn't.
War, death, and destruction stretched its ugly claws across the next scenes. It never seemed to get better. Dragon deaths. Elf deaths. The young. The old. No one was spared. Both races fought brutally, killing many but saving none. The dragons and elves were each too strong for the other, not to be bested. So many perished. Chloe could feel her strength ebbing away, the images sapping her will to continue, her will to live as her eyes took in the mosaic. Abruptly the bloody scenes came to a halt and she found herself studying a forest of emerald, jade, malachite, and jasper. In the center of a clearing, was a hatchling. But this hatchling was different, much different from the ruby female she'd seen before.
Because on the cavern wall was a mirror image of her own dragon. White scales that glittered like snow, the same curled talons. She knew this time, without hesitation, that this dragon was male.
That this was Bid'Daum, the first bonded dragon.
The dragons could have been twins, their only difference in eye color. Where her companion's eyes shown gold, Bid'Daum's were a piercing silver. Bid'Daum's eyes were even arched in the same manner of curiosity as it studied the world around him. Only now the dragon was curiously observing a young silver haired elf. This elf, unlike its kin from the previous clearing, held no spear, only a look of curiosity as to rival that of the dragon hatchling. The first Eragon, she knew.
Chloe's spirit lifted over the next few scenes. She felt as though she were watching a movie. She looked on eagerly as the hatchling and young elf met what followed next needed mo words to convey itself. The pair simply became friends, yet their bond was of a complexity never before seen. It was a bond that Chloe only now was beginning to understand. She saw time passed as Bid'Daum grew, and Eragon taught him the Ancient Language until the dragon could recognize the words and their meaning. Their haphazardly thrown together method of communication was not perfect; often the two misunderstood each other. But they strove to understand each other. Finally came the scene when Bid'Daum and Eragon flew together. They left their peaceful clearing, flying to meet the rage and carnage created by the elves and dragons alike. Chloe held her breath as the wards ceased, Bid'Daum and Eragon becoming ambassadors of their races. Slowly an agreement was formed, and thus the Dragon Riders were established.
The mosaic continued , showing prosperity among the races. Later, once they had arrived, the humans were added to the Dragon Rider pact. Peace to the land. A chill crept up Chloe's spine as she saw a handsome rider, a human, ride upon a dark amethyst dragon into wild, untamed lands. She watched in horror as they were attacked, and the dragon slain by large, brutish creatures. The lone rider, deranged with loss, returned to the Riders, begging for another dragon. He was denied, and Chloe watched as he was depicted plotting. With the help of another Rider the mad Rider stole another dragon egg, and with dark magic he forced it to hatch for him. The next scened made Chloe sick to her stomach.
War again as once more she watched dragons murdered along with their human and elven counterparts. She saw Galbatorix's rise to power, the destruction of the Dragon Rider island, Vroengard. A golden dragon and his Rider betrayed and attacked by fellow riders. They managed to escape, though seriously wounded. A sapphire dragon eerily similar to Saphira was killed as she and her Rider fought against a Rider and his red dragon, who was just as smilier to Thorn. The blue Rider nearly killed himself exacting revenge on the red Rider and his dragon. She saw a party of three elves attacked, the only survivor a raven haired beauty whom Chloe recognized was as Arya. She was fleeing through a burning forest, clutching a sapphire blue egg in her hands as her enemies pursued her.
But the mosaic didn't stop there. The little stones, metals, and gems continued to flow together to create whom she recognized to be Eragon—the Eragon she knew today. But his ears were not yet pointed, and he lacked grace. She followed him in his journey as a budding Dragon Rider, of how he trained with Brom and met Murtagh. Brom's death, Murtagh's indispensable help, finding Arya and then the race to the Varden. The battle of Farthen Dur…everything that Eragon had explained to her days ago, she now saw for herself. But then the mosaic conjured up an impossible image. Because there, clearly depicted on the cavern wall, was Chloe herself with her hatchling's white egg.
"Impossible…" she trailed off in disbelief. "This just can't be," she whipped around, half expecting someone to be behind her, watching her, casting magic. But there was no one there. She carefully did as Eragon had instructed her, casting her mind about for signs of a presence. But she and her hatchling were alone, and the only other energy she could feel seemed to be emanating from the expansive mosaic. I think we're the first to be here in a very long while, Chloe realized, looking down at the white dragon.
He stared back at her, a newfound intensity burning in his golden eyes. As she locked gaze with the dragon, she could see herself reflected. She had changed, as had he. They were the same as before, and yet not. They had grown into something more, in a way. Chloe new that however young he was, the dragon had understood the mosaic as much as she had, if not more so. She felt an unspoken agreement being forged between them, their bond strengthening.
Whatever it takes we will not disappoint those whose wisdom prevailed us, Chloe said determinedly. The white dragon snapped his jaws, and then roared as only a hatchling could in approval.
I know who you are, she realized. The white hatchling stared back at her with solemn golden eyes.
She spoke his name, and he considered it for a moment.
Then the cave was filled with the hatchling's pleased humming.
