Chapter 8: The Couples

"Greetings friend, you must be Deaother, aye?" Kielle said as Deaother appeared in a light brown tunic and leggings, his bright sword on his left hip, hanging from a leather belt.

Worian and Vaelia turned to him, and he smiled and nodded at Kielle, "Aye, I am here. I believe you know my name, but I do not know yours."

Kielle smiled at him, "You may not know me, but my name is Kielle, daughter of Veorien."

"Well met, Kielle." Deaother said. "I was wondering . . . Will anyone spar with me?" He turned to Vaelia as he spoke since she was the one who had invited him.

Vaelia stared at him, then turned to Kielle, who said, "I would, but Worian and I have a competition we must complete. Vaelia, you will have to spar Deaother." Kielle winked at Vaelia, while Deaother raised an eyebrow.

"I don't think Deaother will win against Vaelia, she is the Princess after all." Worian said, and Deaother grinned.

I am not planning to win anyway . . . Deaother thought. He had decided that he would let the person who was going to spar with him to win a few times, because he didn't want to seem like an arrogant person who began displaying his talent from the beginning itself. He was sure it would make a bad impression of him.

Vaelia scowled at Worian, "He is the son of the Lead Rider, show some respect."

Worian just shrugged, not bothering to even look at Deaother, then drew his sword. Kielle pulled a spear and they both blocked their sharp edges. In a couple of minutes, both of them had taken the ready stances, staring at the opponent's weapon, which were shining in the sunlight.

With a yell from Worian, they began the furious match.

Deaother watched for a while, then looked at their surroundings. There were several elves sparring here and there, between the pines. Some were teaching and instructing, while others were just practicing.

Looks like I have to fight her. Deaother thought, and a little unease wormed its way into his mind.

"So, Deaother, are you ready?" Vaelia asked and drew his sword. Deaother imitated her, and they blocked the edges.

"Aye, I am. " Deaother told her, then stood straight with his sword parallel to the ground, its tip pointing at Vaelia.

Vaelia crouched, she was in a red tunic over leaf green leggings. Her dark hair was tied into a long pony tail. Deaother couldn't think anyone who was prettier than her.

Vaelia dived forwards, swinging her sword at his neck in a blur, a focused look on her face. Deaother blocked the blow, moving his arm alone, and not his legs or any other part of his body.

That was too easy! Deaother noted.

Vaelia seemed shocked at the ease with which he had stopped her attack, then she charged again, this time swinging at his chest. Deaother stepped back and avoided the sword easily, and stopped a smile from coming to his face.

Vaelia seemed really astounded by his accomplishment, because then she waited and stared at him with such intensity, he turned down and looked at his sword after a few seconds of gaping into her deep black eyes.

Why do I feel like this? I have never felt so . . . shy, in front of any other woman before. There is something very odd to these feelings I have about her, and I must find out what. Deaother decided.

Vaelia sighed, then charged again, swinging at his knees. Deaother tried to parry the blow, but the blade swung upwards at the last moment, and Deaother was forced to twist painfully to the side to avoid it. Straightening up, he retaliated with a jab, which Vaelia parried. He struck at her again from the side, but she ducked under the blow and swiftly bashed the hilt of her sword into his belly, knocking the wind out of him.

Deaother gasped, then ducked in the next second as her sword came for his neck. He jumped back as soon as it passed overhead, and he ended up a yard away from her.

"You are good." Deaother said, a smile on his face.

"You are not bad either." Vaelia replied.

Her sword whistled at his ribs, and he struck it aside easily. Vaelia's smile vanished, to be replaced by an intense look of concentration. Her eyebrows met, to form a fearful 'V'.

Deaother blocked another blow and pushed her sword down, not letting her pull it back. Vaelia gave a frustrated grunt, first time Deaother had heard a woman make that noise, and she swung the sword wildly to the side. The sword slid away from Deaother, and he hurriedly raised his own sword to block any incoming blow.

Vaelia froze in place as she saw his reaction, then she spun in a half circle and slashed at his knees. Deaother got a sharp rap on his leg, and he nearly lost his balance, but didn't fall forward because a sword's tip placed on his neck was keeping him straight. Deaother smiled, the duel had ended as abruptly as it had begun, and he had lost.

"Dead." Vaelia exclaimed, taking a deep breath, and returning his smile uncertainly.

"You are very good at sparring, Princess Vaelia." Deaother told her, his face warming a bit. "No one has defeated me so easily before." Deaother continued. Though he was telling her the truth, he had just been toying with her.

Vaelia's smile widened, and Deaother smiled back, though his face grew warmer the longer he looked at the elven Princess. Next to them, Worian and Kielle were muttering surprised exclamations, but Deaother didn't comprehend. He was lost in Vaelia's deep, black eyes, which seemed like beautiful black pearls to him.

"Good Morning." A stunning voice said from behind Ephian. The music of the voice washed over him, entrancing him, and made him feel as if he had won the world over. He closed his eyes, wishing for the voice to continue talking.

"I said, Good Morning, Ephian sir!" The voice said again, and he savored the time he listened to it until the word 'sir' brought him back to Alagaesia painfully.

Ephian turned around and saw Elva standing there, her black and straight hair falling past her shoulders. She was wearing a bright red tunic over black, leather leggings, and her eyes were lustrous. Ephian just gaped at her for a couple of minutes, and she gaped back awkwardly, until he caught his tongue.

"Don't call me 'Sir', Elva." Ephian said, and Elva blushed slightly.

"Aye, I won't."

Ephian then looked around, they were still in the dragonhold; it was a bright and cool morning. The dragon were no where to be seen. The wind was blowing inwards, and Elva seemed to be shivering.

"So, how was your journey?" Ephian asked ineptly, eager to begin a conversation. He felt very queer talking to her, and he didn't understand why. As she began to reply, he suddenly blushed without reason, and covered it up by rubbing his face.

"It was fine, enjoyable rather." Elva told him, and Ephian noticed her cross her arms as the wind blew with more force.

"Let us go into the castle, it is cold here." Ephian told her, but she shook her head.

"No, let us remain here. You have to tell me about this mission of ours, and we must wait for the dragons . . . Let us stay." Elva told him, and sat down, leaning against the cold wall.

"As you wish." Ephian said, though he remained standing. "This mission of ours is complicated, and we are the only ones for almost a century to embark on a mission as dangerous as this. Why do I use such heavy words? I shall explain."

Elva crossed her legs and looked at him with excited eyes as Ephian pulled out a map of the Beor Mountains and took it to her. He sat down next to her, and pointed at a mountain just next to Galfni, which was a dwarven city situated in a valley. It was ruled by the Dûrgrimst Az Sweldn Rak Anhuin, which was rather hostile towards the Dragons and Riders, but they did not dare harm them.

"Those rebel magicians are in this mountain, but there aren't just two dozen men there now . . . I had a letter from Trellony, she is the Rider stationed at Farthen Dur, and she says that the dozen dwarf scouts she sent to explore found this group exploring tunnels in that particular mountain for some reason. Of course, only a couple of those scouts survived. I have a feeling that these rebels are looking for the dream well in Mani's caves, they are the caves belonging to this mountain." Ephian told Elva, and her face became rigid. She unfolded her legs, and kneeled in front of the map, a worried look on her face.

"If they are going after that Well . . . but they don't know how to interpret the wild magic imbued into that well, they can't cause too much harm can they? And to interpret it, they would need more men." Elva said.

Interpreting wild magic was a technique used by magicians or sorcerers to control magic, and have take any shape. It had been found by the elves long ago, even before Vrael became the Lead Rider, though it was not encouraged. It was very difficult and dangerous, but once done, the interpreter could control the magic, make it do whatever he or she may want.

"Exactly, but that's the bad news. Now, their numbers have more than doubled, and there are about fifty men there. They wouldn't be a problem for the four of us, but there are rumors of a . . . . Shade. They say that he is tall, has black hair that reaches up to his shoulders in a tangled mess, his eyes are grey and his body appears thin..." Ephian stopped as Elva's eyes widened.

"H-How can there be a Shade with them?" Elva asked.

"I don't know, Elva, and I am not sure if these rumors are true. They probably aren't, but we should expect the worst. Am I understood?" Ephian said. Elva looked at him, and he couldn't help but notice how beautiful she looked even when she was upset.

"Now we-" Ephian stopped abruptly because Elva's hand brushed against his as she moved it on the ground. Elva blushed a bit, as did Ephian, and both didn't look at each other for a while.

After some minutes, Ephian said croakily, "Now, we have to get to Galfni, from Tronjheim of course. Shall we leave today?"

Elva looked up, and they both gazed into each other's eyes, but she hurriedly said, "Y-yes, if you wish." Then stood up and began to walk to her saddlebags.

You are so beautiful, Elva . . . Ephian thought to himself once more, but wrestled with the thought and subdued it. Berating himself for being a fool, he himself stood up, rolled up the map and put it away.

Eridor stared at Jiarha, who was flying several yards ahead of him. She was smaller than him in size, but she was wiser than him in many aspects. When they woke up a couple of hours ago, they found their Riders still sleeping, so they left them to their dreams and decided to fly around and talk.

So, how was it in Doru Araeba? Jiarha asked. They were both flying over the Leona Lake.

It was fine, you know, but it does feel great to be somewhere outside Vroengard. Eridor told her.

Jiarha pulled her wings back and glided for a while, letting Eridor catch up. He did, but he was admiring how the light reflected her black scales all the time. He could feel Elva's emotions of attraction towards Ephian, and he himself was rather fond of Jiarha.

I know, I was stuck there for three decades until I and Ephian finally became Rangers.

Good . . . Elva didn't want to apply for a higher post, she said she was happy as she was. But then, she was bored of it, so the two of us decided that it was time to get a higher rank. Eridor told her. He usually didn't give away so much of himself, but he thought that if he showed that he trusted Jiarha, she would trust him as well. He was right.

Ephian always wants to get better and better. He dreams of becoming the Lead Rider after Eragon steps down.

Does he now? He really is ambitious. Eridor said, impressed.

He is, isn't he? I am really proud of him, though. Jiarha told him, pride bubbling in her voice.

A dragon who isn't proud of their Rider is a fool and that is something I agree with whole heartedly. Eridor told her. She growled in affirmative.

They swept up the lake, then turned and headed for the city again, because both of them realized that their Riders were awake.

So tell me, what are your interests other than just flying? Jiarha asked.

Eridor snorted. Keeping Elva out of trouble. With her, it's a full time job.

Oh really?

Yes . . . What is yours?

Jiarha let out a small cloud of black flames. Trying to keep Ephian happy, and not downtrodden.

Why?

He is always very serious, and takes everything to his heart. He isn't the casual types, you know. She said a little sadly.

Eridor looked at her, and she looked back.

He will be fine, you know that. Don't worry, Elva will make him pleasant. It's impossible to be with her and not change. Ephian will change, I promise you. Eridor told her.

I hope you are right. Jiarha said, her voice a little sweeter than before.

And so, the three couples were, happy and pleased together, not knowing the unimaginable depths of love. Death opposed it, and in the southwest it lurked.