Miantha followed the man down winding streets, keeping Sarama trotting to keep up with his tense, quick pace. Suddenly he whirled around, and she cringed, wondering what she could say to make him understand. He would think she was crazy if she told him that she had seen him in a dream and so followed him. But all he did was punch the wall. That was close, Miantha thought, as he started his fast walk again, clenching his fists.
I bet that hurt, she observed, after all, his knuckles are all scraped up. He was as angry as I was about the treatment of those people, Miantha surmised. That's a good sign. She followed him until, finally, he slowed. They had arrived at the large cathedral that she had seen earlier. Its twisted spires were covered with statues and scrollwork. Snarling gargoyles crouched among the eaves. Fantastic beasts writhed on the walls, and heroes and kings marched along their bottom edges, frozen in cold marble. Ribbed arches and tall stained-glass windows lined the cathedral's sides, along with columns of differing sizes. A lonely turret helmed the building like a mast.
Miantha watched as he walked forward, to the iron bound door, and he paused at the silver script that she couldn't make out from there. After he had entered, she followed tentatively, first tying Sarama to the gates, praying that no one would take offence. She slowly walked to the entrance. She saw the script, but it was in a language she did not recognize. The language was soft and flowing, however, and as she sounded out the foreign words, the meanings came to her mind: May thee who enter here understand thine impermanence and forget thine attachments to that which is beloved. How depressing, she thought. She quickly followed the man into the cathedral, where he had sunk onto his knees and was speaking words in a language she did not know. She quickly went up to him, determined to confront him before she lost her nerve.
Before she could, he spun around for the second time, this time roaring and drawing his bow. Miantha looked at him, mouth open. What had she done to deserve this? His arrows went right past her, however, and hit something behind her that let out a horrid screech. Miantha turned - and saw what must have been the Ra'zac that her mother had talked about. The hooded black cloaks, the beaked mouths...She let out a whimper of terror and then steeled herself as the soldiers came through the doors as well. This was not the time to be weak. She drew out her own short bow, grabbing an arrow and nocking it.
Her first arrow hit right on target - the Ra'zac that was about to attack the man that she now recognized from her dream. The dream had come quickly to her memory once she had seen his face - it lit up the corners of her mind and she knew. Together, Miantha and the man from her dreams managed to kill more than half, but the Ra'zac and the soldiers just kept on coming, and eventually she was overtaken, and she knew no more.
A dull throbbing woke Miantha. Every time blood pulsed through her left arm, it ached. Instinctively, she stayed on the ground with her eyes closed, and tried to go into the Trance, sensing that this was what needed to happen. At first, all she felt was the chafing of rope around her wrists and feet, but then she saw, with her minds eyes, two more souls near her, one of them ebbing slowly. Somehow, she knew that this meant that this person was dying. Slowly, she cracked one eye slowly, and took in the whole horrific scene. The man she had been fighting with earlier was on the ground, his hair matted with a dark substance that Miantha suspected was blood. There was another man, an older man, right next to him. And then, as she cast her eyes around the rest of the camp, she noticed...a dragon. At first she thought, irrationally, that it was Balefire, but this dragon was large, and obviously older. Then she saw Sarama, unhurt, tied at the edge of the camp. She sighed with relief. They had not caught Balefire, and they hadn't hurt Sarama. She turned her attentions next to the two men tied with her. The man she had met first opened his eyes and opened his mouth at what he saw. Then Miantha saw what he was looking at - a Ra'zac. They must have been captured by them after they lost the fight, she surmised. But then who was the other man?
Above them, the Ra'zac laughed chillingly. "The drug is working, yessss? I think you will not be bothering us again." The man cursed and struggled with his bonds, but stopped when he noticed a second Ra'zac putting a muzzle over the dragon on the other side of camp. "She was most cooperative once we threatened to kill you," it hissed. Apparently, though Miantha, that dragon is a girl. Then a brilliant thought came to her mind - she would contact Balefire! Balefire! She yelled in her mind. HELP!!
What is it? He answered abruptly. I've been waiting for hours. Where are you? Don't come, She begged. I've been captured by Ra'zac. She sent a mental picture of the creatures. They captured two other men as well. I think...I think that one of them is a Dragon Rider, like us. She paused. [I don't know what to do. Do you have any ideas? Meanwhile, the Ra'zac were arguing about her. "She is not necessssary," One hissed. "If she is Eragon's companion, we will be killed for killing her," The other replied. So - one of the men was named Eragon. Her mother had told her the story of the first dragon Rider, named Eragon. Perhaps, the man she had seen in her dream was named after this man. Meanwhile, the man who was perhaps named Eragon argued with the Ra'zac. Miantha chose to stay quiet as she waited for Balefire's reply.
I do not know either. Balefire finally said. There is nothing I can think of. But then Miantha's attention was diverted by the harsh cry of a Ra'zac with an arrow in his back. The second Ra'zac scuttled to its wounded companion. They made no noise as Eragon and the other man stood, and Miantha followed suit. She felt Eragon's curious eyes on her as she did so but did not answer them. She was focused on staying safe. More arrows hissed into the camp from behind a rock. There was a lull, then arrows came from the opposite direction. Caught by surprise, the Ra'zac reacted slowly. Their cloaks were pierced in several places, and a shattered arrow buried itself into one's arm.
With a wild cry, the smaller Ra'zac fled towards the road, kicking Eragon viciously in the side as he passed, completely ignoring Miantha. Its companion hesitated, then grabbed the dagger from the ground and raced after it. As he left the camp, he hurled the knife at Miantha. The second, older man looked at her for a second, then jumped to intercept the knife. She jumped in the opposite direction, knocking him backwards. "No," screamed the man Eragon belatedly, though he was already doubled over in pain. Miantha heard footsteps, and a thump. She flew around, noting Eragon lying on the ground, and saw yet another man, staring at all three of them.
Though the situation was far from humorous, Miantha began to laugh hysterically.