Blödhthringa spent the next month familiarizing herself with the Ancient Language until Arya was more than satisfied with her knowledge and pronunciation; so that she was sure Blödhthringa would not fail when weaving a spell. Fortunately, Blödhthringa may not have had an extensive knowledge in the Ancient Language, but her mother taught her the basics and she was familiar with it's sounds and vowels. During that month, Bleithr grew larger, to the point she was now larger than Blödhthringa and was able to breath fire, a blinding white torrent twice the length of her own body. When she had finally mastered it, she had been very pleased with herself. As the two of them learned, they learned through each other, Bleithr learned about the Ancient Language and Blödhthringa learned how to breath fire.

Fírnen and Arya brought her and Bleithr to the Crags of Tel'naeír, where she explained Eragon and Saphira had been taught her by their predecessors, Oromis and Glaedr. Blödhthringa was humbled, she had never met The Cripple Who is Whole or his golden dragon, but she still had a place in her heart for them, as did the whole of her race. They still mourned the passing of Oromis, Glaedr lived on, however it was unclear to Blödhthringa as to how.

There Blödhthringa was instructed in magic and mental combat, whilst Bleithr went off with Fírnen, to learn air movements and how to identify air currents and their direction.

Many many months passed as they learned under Queen Arya and her dragon, Bleithr was at least a quarter of Fírnen's size, surprising growth for everyone. Her white scales glittered brilliantly in the light, illuminating everything around her, always demanding the attention of everyone around her. They learned exceptionally fast, Blödhthringa learned that she had been gifted with a natural vast amount of magic, however she failed at controlling it, often losing control. Arya told her she had the potential to be the strongest spell caster in the present save for Eragon and herself, if she mastered it. Bleithr had no such inhibitions, she continued to advance. It was around another month later that Queen Arya walked with Blödhthringa through Ellesmera and to a low hut with a forge outside. As they approached, an elf with long red hair tied back into a long messy bun, with a tight black shirt that cut off at the shoulders and black pants, she labored over her anvil singing while hammering the white hot metal with practiced percision. Queen Arya stopped and seemed content on waiting for her to finish so Blödhthringa stood and waited with her. The elf finally stopped hammering and held the blade up and examined the blade, runes glowed along it's surface, then stuck it back into the burning forge and stirred the coals; then stepped on the bellows and the forge glowed brighter. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, then finally turned towards them. "Yes, My Queen?" Arya inclined her head slightly, "Urreal, I wanted to place an order." Urreal's brow furrowed. "I'm already up to my neck in orders, but for my Queen I can make an exception. Very well, what would you need? You already have Támerlein. My master worked on that sword for you, hadn't she? Are you displeased with her work?" Queen Arya shook her head. "I do not come to complain, I've come," she gestured to Blödhthringa, "To place an order for a Rider's Blade." Urreal rose an eyebrow at Blödhthringa. "A rider, huh?... Very well. It has been... some time since my master passed, she taught me everything she knew before then, I have not crafted a Rider's Sword before, but I believe I know how. My master and I created a new metal, one that works just as well as Brightsteel, but thankfully there is still some left from the ore that Eragon and Saphira had found under the Menoa Tree, I'll use a combination to save the Brightsteel we have."

Blödhthringa dipped her head in understanding, believing Urreal to know what she was talking about, then, "Who is this master you keep referring to?" Urreal seemed saddened. "The master I speak of, refers to the elf Rhunön, she was a master blacksmith -such a great blacksmith that even the Dwarves mourned her passing- and forged all the rider swords from the ancient times, and was the oldest of our race. She took me in when I was orphaned and taught me everything she knew and more, before deciding to pass into the void; saying that she had witnessed the Riders in their golden age, their fall, and their return, she did not want to see them fall again if they had to. Nor did she want to forge the weapons for their doom anymore. I was... saddened for awhile, but decided It my duty to live up to her expectations. I am not as good of a blacksmith as she, but I am confident I can follow her likeliness; as I have learned from the best."

Blödhthringa nodded, feeling humbled. "Thank you for shared, Urreal-elda." She shrugged, "Don't think much of it, everyone should know master's tale, as many already do. Now, where is your dragon?" Blödhthringa looked up, Bleithr who had been circling overhead while listening, floated down and landed a few feet next to them. I am here. She declared. "A magnificent hide," Urreal said, looking at Bleithr with a gleam in her eyes. "What is your name, mighty dragon?" Bleithr. She said as proudly one might when declaring their child had gotten into a prestigious college. Urreal stared at Bleithr, even circled her a few times, when she was confident she knew the color of her scales, walked over to the edge of her forge. She shuffled around in a bin and pulled out two rods of metal, then tossed one to Blödhthringa, "Let's see what you got!" She said, Blödhthringa quickly came over her surprise and crossed iron rods with Urreal. She relied heavily on the training she had received from Arya, she had no battle experience to back it up. When Blödhthringa believed Urreal would overwhelm her, she stopped, then marched inside her hut and pulled out large multicolored rock of some sort. That must be the Brightsteel. She thought to herself.

For the rest of the day, Queen Arya, Blödhthringa and Bleithr, watched Urreal as she worked and Blödhthringa couldn't help but sway in the melody as Urreal weaved magic into the blade. As she paused to put the blade back into the forge, Blödhthringa spoke up, "Um, Urreal-elda, could I make a suggestion?" She rose an eyebrow. "During the coloring phase, which is soon I think, could you put in a little drops of red?" Urreal continued to stare at her with a puzzled look until Blödhthringa realized she wanted her to explain why. "Because, I want the sword to represent me and Bleithr, our sword, but since it is me who will wield it, I thought I'd include a little of myself into the blade. As you know, my name translates to "Blood Rain" so I was wondering if you could give it a little... blood rain." Urreal was silent for some time and Blödhthringa thought she had misspoken, then she turned and pulled the blade out of the forge, "very well." She said at last, "Unlike master, I have flair for aesthetics."

After that, they continued to watch as she worked and as the night grew old and Blödhthringa's hunger began to settle in, Urreal held up the gleaming sword, "Finished," she sounded tired, but that was to be expected. She took a deep breath, then brandished it towards Blödhthringa and she caught her breath. For a instrument of death, the sword was a beautiful work of art. The sword was long and heavy, as Blödhthringa liked, her fighting style needed more weight to it, the blade itself was iridescent white with beautifully crafted red dripping from the tip of the blade, running seemingly as naturally as water down to the base of the blade. It was truly a magnificent blade and even the scabbard was white and red. "Here." Urreal handed the blade to Blödhthringa and she admired it up close. "Thank you, Urreal-elda." She shrugged. "Now then, what shall we name it?" Blödhthringa looked toward Bleithr who was curled up nearby, watching them with a large purple eye. "Silverlight." They agreed on. Urreal nodded, "simple and fitting." She then engraved the runes for it on the blade of the sword and the scabbard then sheathed the blade and held out to Blödhthringa again. "Rider." She said formally. "I offer you the first Rider's blade I have ever forged, it is the best blade I have ever forged, do you swear to only use it to carve yourself a righteous path; to never wield the blade with evil intent?" Blödhthringa bowed. "I swear." Blödhthringa said in the ancient language. Urreal smiled, "Then straighten yourself, Rider, carry Silverlight into battle and make enemies fear your name. Carry the legacy of mine and my master with you, always." Blödhthringa accepted the sword and strapped it to her waist. "I cannot thank you enough, Urreal-elda." She shrugged. "I am sure you are all tired and hungry after so long, I certainly need to rest. Go, I will expect my payment as soon as possible, My Queen." Arya nodded to Urreal, "of course."

Blödhthringa, Quen Arya, and Bleithr, set to return to the Crags of Tel'naeír.