Whoaa…I'm honestly, really sorry for not updating, but my phone-line broke, and so I didn't have any Internet access except for at school, where they block everything -scowls-. I'm going to try and update as frequently as I can –desperately searches for a computer with broadband- huh…mmm…-sigh-

Quiz Answer: b) Melisande knows her father, but not her mother.

:x:

Chapter 24- Dishonest Truths Varden

:x:

Trianna sniffed in revulsion at the concoction she was brewing. It was hot, translucent, and a light red in colour. The corners of her lips tilted slightly upwards when the solution changed from light red to a dull pink. Lifting the ivory dagger she had stolen from out of her robes, Trianna dipped the weapon into the boiling liquid. It hissed, and smoked, changed to a translucent red, and then faded. She peered into the reflection of the cauldron, pleased, but all of a sudden, her smile faded. She paled.

"I'm not going to turn back," she hissed at the solution. Whatever she saw in it, it wasn't good. Trianna wrapped the dagger in a piece of shorn black silk, and placed it carefully in the pockets of her dress robes. She steamed, and for a second, she dropped her guard. The face of a child, scared, full of remorse…with a hint of bitterness…

:x:

Arya stood, towering over the small child, fuming, her emerald-green eyes blazing with anger. Melisande shook her head.

"Master, I really don't know," she said in a small voice.

"Don't call me that!"

Melisande faced the penetrating gaze that held her vision, hoping that the princess could see the truth in her reply.

"I really, really don't know who my mother is," she said quietly. "I only vaguely remember a face, nothing more."

Arya surprised her by sitting down on a flat slate of rock. She contemplated for a while, before asking,

"What do you think she looks like, from your memories?"

Melisande frowned, as though trying to recall, though she remembered perfectly well.

"She was tall, with long hair, the colour like mine, but a lot darker," she whispered. "She had such a happy, but sad smile, and she was so…so beautiful."

Melisande trailed off, and looked far into the distance, losing the child-self part of her once more, as Arya had only seen too many times before.

"Do you remember anything that belonged to her?" Arya asked, her rousing curiosity taking over the better side of her.

The child hesitated before answering.

"She once carried a large and old brown book, but I'm not sure if it's hers. She put it in a leather bag that she sometimes carried," she added.

Arya's eyes flickered. An old brown book in a leather bag…

She remembered where she had first met the woman- another tent in the middle of nowhere. How she had walked in, and saw the works of him.

"I understand," Arya said curtly, and stood up, turning around to leave.

"Wait!"

Arya paused in question. Melisande looked anxious.

"Will you still teach me?" she asked, almost pleadingly.

The corners of her red mouth tipped upwards, as Arya said,

"If you keep your part of the bargain."

Melisande stared.

It was Selena who was confronted the next day, and Arya smiled ruefully as Selena sighed a sigh of renouncement.

"I was going to tell you that the child didn't know, but you had already left the room." She grinned. "I've never been a good runner, even compared to other humans."

Arya's stone gaze didn't waver.

"Melisande is your daughter," she said candidly. Selena bowed her head.

"I told you just before you left," she replied calmly. Arya's face knitted in concentration as she decided on her feelings. Was she angry, or would she take it with peace and reassurance. Finally, she said,

"You have a lot to explain to me."

Suddenly, there was a loud bashing on the door. Arya turned sharply to see what it was. Before Selena could even look at the door, Arya had already leaped up to open it.

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Eragon paced back and forth in his quarters, and Garhvog watched him warily.

"Are you saying that someone in our midst is trying to destroy us?" Eragon asked. Garhvog grunted.

"We have to get it back," Eragon said, and his panic rose. The Urgal seemed unaffected at all, and only the distress in the lines of his eyes could hint at all to any signs of worry. Garhvog stood up suddenly.

"Firesword, I will return soon to meet with you- I have something to do."

Eragon nodded.

"I think I'll go down to Saphira- she went hunting somewhere, and should be waiting somewhere outside for me."

Garhvog bowed, and then closed the doors behind him. Eragon sighed, and then reached for his saddle, preparing for a relaxing flight with Saphira, hoping to relieve him of his worries. A soft knock suddenly sounded.

"Enter," Eragon said guardedly, thinking that it was probably Garhvog, returning with one last message. Eragon looked away. He had enough to deal with now.

"Hello, Eragon," said a light, musical voice, that seemed familiar, yet different at the same time. He turned around just to hear the door close behind his visitor. Eragon unconsciously put the saddle back onto a side desk, and tried to smile.

"Lady Trianna; it's good to see you."

She smiled a beautiful smile that seemed almost inhuman.

"I found this out on the grounds," Trianna said, her voice simperingly soft. "I thought it belonged to you- I recalled it being given to you by one of the Urgals."

She rummaged for something from her robes, and then found it, holding out an ivory dagger; pale white, harmless-looking, but lethal within itself.

Eragon stared, before his face relaxing to a warm smile.

"I thank you, lady Trianna. I've been searching for it." He reached out to take it.

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The end of another chapter!! Mua hahaha… sorry if it's a bit short, but it sort of just…stayed this length. Will definitely update soon- hols are coming up!!! –cheer-

Quiz: "An old brown book and a leather bag…the works of him." Who is "him"?

a) Eragon

b) Galbatorix

c) Fäolin

d) Garhvog

Have fun guessing, and please review!!

-Evalia