Hey guys!
I'm not even going to bother wondering how long it has been this time. Suffice to say, it has been a very, very long time. I do not expect anyone to be reading this, and I am eternally grateful if you are.
Furthermore, I am simultaneously pleased and saddened to say that, if all goes to plan, the next chapter of this story will be its conclusion. It's been an incredible journey over the past year-and-a-bit, and I'd like to thank anyone who's still here for sticking at it. As for the sequel, I cannot say when it will be released, but I will warn you not to expect it soon. With the fandom now utterly and irrevocably dead, I'm not sure that another two full-length fics will be achievable for me. However, let's just say that the jury's still out and at this time I am not leaning towards either continuing this story or not doing so.
Anyway, enjoy!
They all took off, racing through the air towards the ruined city. A minute ago Arya wouldn't have been sure Eragon could have managed to fly unassisted, but his strength seemed to have returned tenfold since he'd come out into the light of the world once more. Arya could only imagine what it would have been like to be in that place for so long—Angvard's power had very nearly crushed her in a matter of minutes. Arya herself felt as if a great weight had been lifted off her chest—owing to the fact that she was free of the underworld as well as reunited with her dragon.
They stayed together in close formation as they approached the swirling mass of Grey Folk and Giants.
"Over there!" said Eragon, showing them a mental image of a group of Alaleans on the ground who were quickly being overwhelmed by a much larger group of Giants. They adjusted their courses accordingly and went racing into the battle zone.
Eragon arrived first, slamming into the ground with enough force to cause an explosion of dust and rubble right amidst the Giant's ranks. The force of his landing blew several back, disorienting the group. Angela then followed suit, but immediately after landing she disappeared from sight, her presence only made known by the frequent crackle of her sword-staff and the surprised yells of her victims. Murtagh and Arya landed last in the sizeable hole the other two had made in the Giant's ranks. Now being attacked from two sides and in complete disarray, the group of twenty or so enemies was quickly dispatched.
After the battle the Alalelans, realizing that their king was there, sank to their knees respectfully.
"Oh, get up." Said Eragon with a cough, his voice weary.
Angela swept off her cloak. "Ah, let them be Eragon." She said with her usual maniacal grin. "Just enjoy it." Eragon snorted. The Alaelans looked as if they weren't sure whether laughing would be too disrespectful, so they rose slowly, compromising with a few small smirks.
"Alright," Said Eragon, "all of you, get moving. Anyone who needs healing gets inside the mountain to receive it from whatever healers you have here. Anyone who knows their friend needs healing but won't admit it makes them go inside the mountain. Everyone else, get back up there!"
Galvanized by their king's words, they all leapt up into the sky with enthusiastic yells. Eragon raised his hand and two of them fell to the ground with a flash of light.
"Normally, I'd consider a multiple stab and slash wounds and a missing arm worthy of healing." He said sternly.
"'Tis just a flesh wound, sire." Said the one with the missing arm, the stump of which was currently undergoing the Alaelan equivalent of profuse bleeding, with light shining brightly out of the wound that should be pouring blood.
The corner of Eragon's mouth twitched. "If you call that a 'flesh wound' then I don't doubt your next 'minor cut' will dispel you for an age." He said. "Angela, get these two inside and then tell me what the situation is in there. Especially the situation with Oromis," He added quickly. Angela nodded and motioned for the two to follow. Both looked reluctant, but did so. Together they jogged off through the remains of a door.
"Murtagh, Arya, call your dragons." Said Eragon. A few seconds later, Thorn landed next to them with a great thump.
"That was quick." Said Eragon.
"I was already on my way, two legs." Replied the red dragon. Eragon grinned as Murtagh mounted Thorn. A second later, a Giant who had been pursuing the dragon sent a bolt of fire at him. Eragon quickly deflected it and sent it off into one of the nearby buildings, where it exploded with a great fireball. Thorn breathed fire at the Giant in return, and he was vaporised in mid flight.
"Firnen!" said Arya.
"Yes?"
"It's time we joined forces, my dragon."
"I couldn't agree more."
A few seconds later, Arya saw the dragon swooping around towards them, flying in an evasive pattern as he tried to shake two pursuers. Arya was about to aid him, but the Giants were hit from behind by several bolts of energy cast by a pair of Alealens, causing them to explode in twin blasts of fire. Firnen let out a great victory roar.
A few seconds later, Firnen landed. Arya ran up to him, a warm feeling rising in her chest as she finally greeted her dragon.
"It has been far too long, my rider." He said, letting her feel his feelings of equal joy. She threw her arms around his snout and hugged him tight.
A few seconds later, the final dragon arrived—Saphira. She looked very different now she was reunited with her rider—shining with a brilliant blue-purple light, she looked altogether more splendid and majestic than either of her kin. Arya guessed that this was the dragoness' true appearance, her visage having been drained to what she had looked like when disguised as an ordinary dragon and then by the absence of her beloved rider. Arya couldn't help but admit that they joy written all over Eragon's features at the sight of Saphira made her feel slightly envious, though she hated herself for thinking that in the next moment.
Arya quickly exchanged the memories of all her experiences in the underworld with her dragon. At the bit about Eragon's true identity, she could sense the same shock that had come over her.
"When I first saw him I wondered, but this, I must say is something beyond what I could have anticipated." he said. "I would not have believed you if I was not linked to your mind, or if I did not see him standing here before me."
Glancing at Eragon's expression, she could have sworn that he knew what they were talking about. She wondered how much the king could deduce, and she realized for the first time that this was the son of Angvard and the king of the world. How powerful was he, really?
"Hello again Firnen." He said. "It is good to finally meet you...properly."
"Indeed." Said Firnen. "Well met...king Eragon." Eragon scowled again.
"There is no need for such formalities among friends, Firnen." He replied.
Firnen gave a slight nod of the head. After standing there for a few more seconds Arya jumped up onto his back. Eragon did the same—and for the first time they all stood together as dragon riders. The moment quickly died when a large group of Giants, having obviously slain their opponents, came swooping in towards them.
"Up and at 'em!" yelled Eragon. With roars of approval the dragons kicked off the ground and assaulted their enemies with a stream of fire. Flying in tight formation, the Giants took heavy casualties before some managed to evade the burning torrents. The survivors shot an assortment of blasts of energy at the group. Arya raised her hand to deflect them, but suddenly Arya felt Saphira's presence enter Firnen's mind, giving him a lightning-fast order. A split-second later Firnen folded his wings and dived down—the other two dragons doing the same. The Giants' momentum carried them past their targets and towards the mountain.
Firnen turned around sharply and came up facing the Giants, who were just coming around. Arya raised her hand and shot a beam of emerald energy at one of them, who exploded into dust; Murtagh shot a second bolt of energy at another, who fell limp against the mountainside and quickly burned away into nothing. Eragon held out his hand and swung it in a wide arc, a beam of energy slicing through three Giants at once.
"Show off!" yelled Murtagh. Eragon grinned.
The dragons swooped around again and headed for the battle. At Saphira's command, they turned towards a group of Giants who were heading down towards the base of the mountain. The Giants unleashed a furious volley at a group of Alaelans who stood on the ground, holding a great flood of enemies back from the city's mighty gates. The doors stood ajar, broken and burned, and Arya knew that at least their new allies must have won some ground since arriving, since the city had clearly been breached by the attackers beforehand. The defenders managed to deflect most of the dark energy, but some struck them and several Alaelans fell in fiery explosions.
The dragons put on an extra burst of speed as they approached the Giants, who were now wheeling around for another pass. Saphira, Thorn and Firnen unleashed a storm of fire, but most of the Giants were able to avoid it. The Giants turned to the new threat and assaulted them with blasts of dark energy. Firnen rolled and then broke into a long, arcing turn in an attempt to lose them, but the Giants pursued them. Arya redirected attack after attack and eventually tried to stop her pursuers with a wall of energy, but they were too spread out and broke around it like a wave of darkness.
"Let them gain on us a little!" said Arya to Firnen. The dragon responded by slightly slowing his pace. The Giants, as before, sensed victory, and redoubled their attack. Arya managed to keep them from hitting the pair of them, barely, until one fiery beam got past her and missed them by about a metre, very nearly searing her face off.
"STOP!" she yelled. With two powerful beats of his wings, Firnen came to a stop in mid-air. Not having time to slow down, the Giants came careening towards them. Arya whipped out her sword and slashed one out of the air as he came past, and Firnen turned his head and let out a continuous stream of fire as they passed his head. Only one survived, and Arya quickly dispatched him with a jet of emerald light. Roaring in triumph, Firnen turned back towards Murtagh and Eragon, who were still in combat.
"Nice job." Said Eragon to Arya. "Angela says Orik is in the process of evacuating the dwarves through certain 'secret' tunnels, however the Giants have managed to locate said escape routes and tunnel down into them. Our forces are holding them off but it won't last, as most of our efforts are being directed at keeping as many Giants from getting to the mountain itself as we can. I will go there to assist them—you and Murtagh will remain here."
His tone suggested that it wasn't up for discussion, so Arya sent him a mental nod, despite the fact that the reason he was keeping them where they were was probably because he thought his own mission was too dangerous. "What about Oromis?"she asked.
Eragon's tone turned grave. "Angela is now tending to him—previous efforts to heal him were...ineffective, but Angela is far more experienced than most, and she's doing her best."
Arya's heart rose into her throat. "Does she think he'll be okay?"
"She told me she would...well, do her best." Said Eragon, his mental tone wavering. Arya didn't think that was a very good answer, but she supposed that was likely all Angela had told him, knowing her.
Without another word Saphira set off, though Arya could still feel her mind in contact with Firnen's. Down below them, the Alaealans were regrouping. In front of them, the Giants were doing the same, gathering into a great mass, preparing for a charge.
"Let's see if we can disrupt them a bit, buy the Alaelans some time." Said Arya to Murtagh. He sent her a mental nod of approval. A moment later, the two dragons changed course and swooped down towards the enemy lines. They opened their gaping maws and assaulted the Giants with twin gets of flame.
It was only a few seconds before Arya knew they had made an error—the Giants on the ground, unlike those they had fought in the chaotic air battle, were much more organized. Several of the more powerful ones raised their hands and created a dark shield which absorbed the fire. Firnen and Thorn halted their attack, and the Giants sent the shield roaring upwards as a fire-imbued cloud, racing towards them as if carried by the winds of a great storm. The two dragons broke away and managed to evade it, but as they did so several Giants leapt off the ground and hurtled straight towards them, weapons drawn. Arya had no time to do anything but raise her sword in defence as the blurs of darkness drew level with them.
The first swung his longsword towards Firnen, and Arya swung her sword downwards to parry. Meanwhile, a second attacker came in from the other side, and Arya raised her hand. A blast of energy struck him as he was a metre away and he was hurled back, falling to the ground.
Two more now came down from above on either side, but Firnen rolled down into a dive, coming up facing the other way and extending his wings in a glide, leaving the three Giants behind them. Arya muttered a quick incantation to undo her leg straps and then leaped up onto her dragon's back, facing her enemies. They quickly closed, and Arya got into a fighting stance. Adrenaline rushed through her-the kind of energy that only battle could bring, wiping away the last remnants of the exhausted state in which she had left the underworld. All three came at her at once.
The first swung and Arya parried, swinging her sword to the other side just quickly enough to block the next flaming sword. The third came at her with a spear, but with agility that only her kind possessed she dodged the attack and extended her sword, skewering her attacker. She blocked another two blows, but then one of the Giants broke away and positioned himself under Firnen's belly. Firnen was forced to roll away as the Giant stabbed upwards, and Arya was thrown off into midair.
Reacting swiftly, she willed herself to fly, and as the emerald light burst around her she came up behind the Giant who was attacking Firnen. A blast of light shot from her hand and threw him out of the sky.
Rolling out from under her dragon, she came level with the final Giant. She swung at him and he parried, then counterattacked. Fighting while flying was completely alien to Arya; after all, usually she had a sense of gravity when she was using her sword, and both the fighting and the flying were vying for her concentration. The Giant quickly pressed his advantage, darting around her and making use of all the directions from which he could attack. As he swooped in for another attack though, Arya raised her palm and a shield of emerald light erupted into existence. He slammed into it at full force and recoiled, and she finished him with a swipe of her sword. Swooping sideways, she caught hold of Firnen's saddle straps and clambered back onto his back.
"You fly well, Arya." He said it with pride, but perhaps a little resentment as well.
"Thank you, but I much prefer to do so on your back." She replied, and she sensed his approval.
Meanwhile, the battle on the ground had once again commenced. The mass of Giants, having now regrouped, hurled themselves at the enemy, some attacking with weapons, some with only their dark powers, and some with a combination of the two. The line of Alaelans held, but they were quickly being pushed back by the sheer weight of the Giant's onslaught.
"Let's go around for another pass." Said Murtagh. The dragons responded by wheeling around, turning to once again face the Giant army. As one, they breathed fire onto the Giant's ranks, but a group of Giants who appeared to be forming a rear guard blocked this new assault once more. Arya and Murtagh sent a volley of energy bolts at them, but they were easily deflected as the dragons passed over them and were forced to break off.
"These ones are well organized." Noted Firnen.
"Yes. Perhaps that means they have some sort of leader here." Mused Murtagh.
"In that case, I suggest we take him out." Said Arya. The dragons came around for another pass, and the four of them scanned for a Giant who might fit the description. After a few moments Arya spotted him: a Giant who was standing in the rear of the group, looking closer in stature to the likes of Faolin, Dathedr and Galbatorix than the others—most of the Giants were merely savages, but this one appeared to be wearing armour, woven out of fire; an ornate helm adorned his head, and he was flanked by two spear carrying guards. He didn't appear to be doing anything, but Arya suspected that he was directing the battle mentally, giving orders to his troops.
"There!" she pointed. As she spoke a new volley of dark energy flew at them from the Giant's rear guard. Arya and Murtagh deflected the attacks, and, as one, leapt out of their saddles, hitting the ground and coming up at a roll. The two dragons slammed into the ground besides them. Together Firnen and Thorn unleash their flames, and as they were now coming from amidst the group, the Giants were unable to mount a concerted defence and several fell.
The Giant captain's two guards quickly ran towards them, spears lowered. Murtagh and Arya readied their weapons, but before they got the chance to strike the two Giants were incinerated by a blast of crimson fire from Thorn.
"Thanks!" said Arya to the dragon. Thorn responded by letting out a furious roar.
The captain turned to them, a look of slight annoyance on his face. "Fools." He said. He held out his hand and a long, flaming whip burst into existence. Without waiting for Arya and Murtagh to respond he swung it in a wide arc around his head and cracked it straight towards them. The two dived aside as an explosion of fire incinerated the spot where they had been standing. CRACK! Another strike barely missed Murtagh. Arya broke into a run as the whip lashed out towards her face, sliding underneath it and rolling, coming up a few metres away from her opponent. The captain grinned.
Arya shot a beam of light at the Giant, but he countered with his own, the two beams colliding in mid-air with a great blast of light. He rolled as Murtagh tried to blast him from the side, and lashed out with his whip at Arya as he came up. Arya dodged and broke into a run, and just as the captain was about to follow up with another attack she leapt into the air, her sword raised.
The Giant sidestepped with unbelievable agility, and Arya hit the ground hard. She turned her momentum into a sideways roll, but the Giant knew where she was going to be. He swung the whip, and its point caught her in the neck.
Arya screamed in agony. She was no stranger to this sensation—Durza had pressed a hot iron to her neck like this many times. The whip, however, hurt even more, and unlike the iron, the pain came swift as lightning.
Murtagh charged the Giant, but the captain's hand flashed out and the red rider was sent flying back. Expertly, the Giant used the momentum of his first strike and swung it back around his head, aiming for Murtagh, who had landed on his back. Murtagh, however, was quicker. He rolled out of the way, and with a yell he threw Za'roc, hard. The sword struck the Giant in the chest, and he was blasted to ashes.
Murtagh jumped up and ran over to Arya, who was rolling on the floor, stricken. Dropping down besides her, he held out his hand.
Ribbons of crimson light shot from his hand, wrapping around Arya's neck. Where they touched the burn the pain was alleviated, but not by much. After a few seconds, with little change having occurred, Murtagh cut them off.
"Blast!" he hissed. "I hate doing this! I can't..."
Firnen landed besides them, and Arya sensed his worry.
"Arya, are you alright?"
"...Fine." she managed, but Firnen could obviously see she wasn't. They were interrupted, however, as a group of Giants charged the dragon. Murtagh ran to meet them, holding them off, while Firnen assaulted them with fire.
Arya, meanwhile, managed to regain some of her composure. She managed to hiss out the incantation for healing a burn—but the words of the ancient language had no effect against a wound inflicted by one of its creators. Firnen turned his attention back to Arya, the Giants having been dispatched. Without warning, he touched his snout to the wound, and a soft glow of green light appeared, growing in intensity as Arya's pain receded. Eventually, Firnen withdrew his snout, and the burning was gone.
"How did you do that?" asked Arya.
"Dragon magic." He said simply. "I never know."
Arya got to her feet, and was about to run off to aid Murtagh, who was currently battling a crowd of Giants alongside Thorn. However, right at that moment something slammed into the ground right in the middle of them. Murtagh was thrown back—the Giants he had been fighting were incinerated. The ground trembled.
The thing was a Giant—a Giant the size of a dragon. His face was brutish and ugly. Twin, curved horns protruded from the side of his head, and from his back sprouted a pair of colossal wings. The Giant roared, and the sound was wild and barbaric, like that of an animal.
"Oh damn." Said Murtagh, rising to his feet several metres away from Arya. The Giant held out his hands, and twin weapons appeared, the size of medium-sized pine trees: a massive mace in his right hand, a great spear in his left.
Before they had a chance to do anything more than gape at him, horror-struck, the Giant slammed his mace into the ground. The shockwave tore through the earth, and Arya and Murtagh were hurled skyward. They landed hard on their backs, having flown a good ten metres through the air.
Firnen and Thorn breathed twin torrents of fire at the Giant, but the attack only seemed to leave him momentarily dazed. With a furious roar, he retaliated, swinging his great spear in a wide arc. Firnen took off just in time to avoid being skewered. Arya got to her feet. The impact had left her dazed, but as the Giant stabbed his spear at Thorn, who just barely dodged, she knew she had to get back into the fight.
"Fly!" she said to Murtagh. "We need to split up and distract it!" Together, they leaped up into the sky.
The two of them assaulted the Giant with bolts of light, but as they struck the vast surface of his fiery form, impacting with miniature explosions, they only seemed to anger him. Firnen and Thorn, now airborne, tried to attack him once more, but this time the Giant was ready. Opening his gaping mouth, he breathed fire at them. Completely unready for this, Firnen was unable to avoid the blast completely, and the flames scorched his underbelly. The more experience Thorn, meanwhile, was just able to get out of the way.
"That's not fair!" said Firnen to Arya, and she felt a spike of pain from his mind. "I'm fine." He added, as Arya swerved to get to him.
Arya wasn't about to take his word for it, but the as she tried to intercept her dragon to examine his wounds the Giant now aimed at her, breathing out a blazing inferno. She swerved wildly, but he kept going, his head following her, and Arya had to put on a massive burst of speed to avoid being incinerated. The heat of the fire almost burned her to ash as it was.
It very quickly became apparent that they were outmatched. Knowing it was their only hope, Arya reached out her mind, desperately searching for the one person who she knew was powerful enough to defeat this foe.
The king's mind stood out like nothing Arya had ever felt before—his presence, so powerful, so different, was apparent instantly. "Eragon!" she yelled out to him. Without time to explain, she sent him a rush of images, and he seemed to process them faster than Arya thought possible.
"On our way." He said.
" Eragon's coming!" said Arya to Murtagh. "Keep him distracted!"
They darted around the Giant, sending wave after wave of attacks his way, but to no avail. The beast was getting closer and closer to killing them with every strike he made.
Rising above the Giant's head, Thorn folded his wings and dived him, unleashing a raging inferno against his enemy. For the first time, the strike seemed to have an effect. The Giant lost his balance, looking as though he was going to fall. Then, with a roar of fury, he stood up to his full height and raised his spear. The great monster pulled his arm back as if to hurl the spear at the dragon, but Thorn was already speeding away. There was no way he could hit. The Giant, however, didn't seem to agree. He threw the spear, and it flew through the air so fast that it was no more than a flash of fire. It struck Thorn in the flank, and with a rush of horror Arya saw that it had gone right through—into his side, and right out the other.
Thorn was dead before he hit the ground.
It was at that very moment that Saphira appeared around the mountainside, Eragon riding on her back, his whole form shining like the sun. Arya felt Saphira give an order to Firnen, and the emerald dragon turned so that he was flying towards the great Giant. As one, Firnen and Saphira let loose twin torrents of flame—both were so hot that that they glowed almost pure white. Eragon raised his hand, and Arya watched, awestruck, as the two blasts of flame condensed into jets, entwining with each other to form a great bolt of light. The fire struck the Giant in the chest. He staggered back, and Arya saw that the fire had burned right through his fiery form, leaving a gaping hole in his chest. A split-second later, the great beast exploded in a massive blast of fire and smoke.
Firnen made a heavy landing as Saphira alighted on the ground and Eragon dismounted. Arya's ears were ringing—nothing else could be heard. She muttered a quick spell to remedy them, and heard the renewed sounds of battle around her.
All her attention having been focused on Thorn, Arya had not yet noticed Murtagh, but now she realized that the red rider was lying on the ground before them, unconscious, with Eragon by his side. Arya sprinted to join them.
"Eragon!" "You have to help Thorn! He...he..."
"He's dead." Said the king quietly.
Arya couldn't believe it. How could Thorn be dead? How could Thorn, who had been present throughout their whole adventure, mostly silent but unmistakably present, be gone? But at the same time, Arya knew it was true.
"And Murtagh?" she asked.
"Alive." Said Eragon. "But barely. The loss of their connection...the pain must have been too great. It caused him to black out." He picked the red rider up and clambered up Saphira's flank, depositing Murtagh on her back. Eragon snapped his fingers, and the saddle straps fitted themselves around his legs.
"Get him to the people on the other side! Tell them to take him to Angela!" said to his dragon, and she took off.
"Arya, Firnen, you two go with them. Get inside the mountain." He ordered.
"No." They said together.
Eragon sighed. "Fine then." He said. "Come on. This isn't over yet."
The king charged towards the Giants who were still pressing the gate, with Arya in tow and Firnen flying above them.
Arya guessed that the morale of the Giants was weakened by the loss of their leader and their great monster, but Eragon's power in driving them back astounded her. Despite the fact that he'd been close to death not long before, he swept into their ranks, battling scores of Giants at a time and annihilating them completely. He charged into their midst, his flaming sword smiting enemies left and right. A swirling vortex of power surrounded him, blasts of lightning shooting through the air. Before long he stood in the centre of a miniature hurricane, cutting through rank upon rank of Giants. It was only when all the attackers were slain that he showed signs of weariness. The king bent over, resting his hands on his knees, and Arya thought that she could see a greater amount of grey in his hair than before—but she decided she was merely imagining that.
"I'm fine." He said as she approached him tentatively. "Just need...quick rest..."
The defenders of the gate rushed forwards to meet them. At the sight of Eragon, they all sank to their knees.
"No need...for that." Eragon said to them. "You can kneel...when we're done fighting."
Arya could tell from their faces that they were as concerned about his wellbeing as she was, but they said nothing. Arya looked around. The battle still raged intensely in the air above them, but Arya thought the number of Giants looked diminished. Eragon stood.
"Angela just contacted me." He said to the group. "All the surviving dwarves are out."
"Then what now, sire?" asked the leader of the group.
"...Pull back." He said, still breathing heavily. "Our wards will still not let the Giants teleport around the area, and nor can they sense where we teleport to. We'll set up a rear guard in the passages out of the mountain and hold them long enough for us to teleport all of the dwarves to Ellesmera. It's the only other location besides Illeria that we have wards around, and the latter is too small."
"We're going to abandon the city?" asked Arya.
Eragon nodded. "Tenga's offensive is breaking. He's pulling back his forces as we speak. More Giants will follow him out of the underworld. There's no way we can hold against their number, and we won't get any more warriors in Alagesia without more time to mobilize."
Arya nodded, though the idea still shook her. "Understood." She said.
"Right then." Said Eragon. "All of you, teleport to this location." Arya assumed that at this he sent them all mental images of where they needed to go. "And start evacuating the Dwarves to Ellesmera. I'll see you there."
He then offered his hand to Arya. "Let's get out of here." He said. She took it tentatively, while Firnen approached them, allowing Eragon to place a hand on his flank. and a second later they stood under the familiar pines of Ellesmera.
"Now, Arya, listen to me." He said straight away. "I will see to the organization of our troops as they arrive. You must go to your people. They must all be informed of what is going on. Tell them everything, and let them know that a war is about to befall them. Du Weldenvarden must be evacuated. We cannot protect the entire forest—every elf that does not reside within the area of Ellesmera must relocate immediately. Our warriors will aid you with teleportation, but you must ensure that your people are organized so that this may be done quickly and efficiently. Got all that?"
"Yes...lord Eragon." She said. Eragon's face was a mask. He nodded, then disappeared in a flash of blinding light.
"His powers are...impressive." said Firnen admiringly. Arya sent him a mental nod and leapt up onto her dragon's back.
They reached Tialdari hall within a few minutes. The two elven guards at the gate looked at them, surprise written all over their features, but as they were about to speak Arya cut them off.
"No time." She said. "Need to pass."
They spoke the appropriate spell, and Arya rushed inside, sprinting into the throne room. An all-too familiar scene greeted her: the sight of a large number of elf-lords, each one trying desperately to be louder than the next.
"I don't care what Queen Nasuada says!" Said Lord Filor, who happened to be the loudest at that moment. "Dathedr was one of the agents of the Empire, likely a close servant of Galbatorix himself! How else could he have fooled us all like that?" Arya would have grinned at the idea of Dathedr serving "that oaf Glabatorix" if not for the seriousness of the situation.
"Silence!" she said, in a well-practiced voice. As one, the elves turned to face her.
"My lady!" said Filor, slipping immediately back into his diplomatic tone. "Your arrival is timely. I trust your mission was a success?"
"It was." She said.
"Then Chancellor Eragon is free? This is wonderful news!"
"Indeed." Said Arya. "But I fear I may have to overshadow it with the ill news that I must bring to you."
"Indeed, your majesty, I believe we are already aware. The traitor, Dathedr, cursed be his name—"
"Was one of the dwarven gods." Said Arya calmly, striding up to the knotted throne.
The polite but clipped smattering of laughter throughout the council clearly showed that they didn't think it was the time for jokes. "Amusing as always, my lady." Continued Filor. "Indeed, that would not be the strangest tale we have heard. Some have said they personally witnessed your own father, peace be upon his name, and Oromis-elda himself in Tialdari hall, returned from the dead!" he laughed with a fairly poor attempt at heartiness. "Perhaps you could shed some light on what really happened for us?"
"I most certainly can. I will start by telling you that those rumours were perfectly true." There was no polite laughter this time. The elves seemed to have decided that Arya had gone rather mad.
"My lady, are you feeling—"
"Perfectly well, thank you." Said Arya, cutting off Lady Itallor. "Now, lord Filor, as much as I would like to argue with you all day, our time is short, and so I will ask you all to be quiet along with the rest of this council while I give you a proper account of my travels."
Filor nodded. "Of course, my Queen."
And so Arya began, recounting the events of her quest from the beginning. She told them how she had travelled to Illirea and met with Murtagh and Orik, and how they had set out for Tronjheim together. She told them how they had been attacked by the mysterious wraith on their way later found to be Galbatorix, and how just as he had been about to destroy her, she had teleported them away. She told them about meeting Angela, and then Faolin. How she had been rescued by the Order. She explained everything they had told her, as best as she could remember, and minus the more personal parts. She told them of how they had returned to Ellesmera and met Dathedr, and subsequently extracted the information they needed from him. How they'd travelled back to Tronjheim and found it under attack, leaving Evandar, Oromis and the two dragons to hold off the Giants while the rest of them entered the Underworld. How they'd found out the truth about Eragon. How they had met Solembum and made their way through the underworld. She told them of the assassin's attack, and the imprisonment of her and Murtagh while Angela escaped. How they had battled Faolin with the aid of Angela and Eragon, and made it back to the surface. Finally she came to the battle in Tronjheim, and her voice shook when she described the death of Thorn and then moved on to their current situation. As she'd talked, the looks of horror on the faces of the elves had grown and grown. For once, they were rendered speechless—Arya's apparent insanity had for once silenced them.
"My queen." Said Filor tentatively, "If you were not speaking in the ancient language, I would think that you were trying to amuse us. But the fact that you are...you therefore believe what you are saying. My queen, I must suggest that your mind has been...altered. Or...or controlled." The others nodded in nervous assent.
Arya's eyes blazed angrily. "Firstly, as I have told you, Filor, you can no longer put any stock in the ancient language. If I were one of the enemies you now face, I would by no means be bound to it. And secondly, I am not one of those enemies. You need proof? Fine."
Arya stood and waved her hand. If it was one thing about Angela that had rubbed off on her, it was a certain poetic flair and appreciation for irony. Therefore, the object that she conjured before them and caused to levitate in mid air was in fact an exact copy of Life, Alagesia, and Everything. The elves' gapes grew wider.
"My lady, your magical power is unmistakably great." Said Lord Tasor. "But surely, you do not expect us to believe..."
"My lady, your father and Oromis-elda are dead." Cut in Filor flatly. "I know this must be hard for you to accept, but whatever you have deluded yourself into thinking, please consider what you are saying. You cannot seriously—"
There was a flash of blinding light, and Evandar appeared before them. To say that the elves were surprised is an understatement. Filor, for example, fainted.
"Strong-minded as ever, Filor." Said Evandar. Arya grinned.
"Lord Evandar!" said Lady Itallor, who was having difficulty breathing. "This cannot be..."
"My mind is open to you all." Said Evandar. "Go ahead, look inside of it. You will see that what your queen has told you is true."
Each elf that had retained their consciousness did so, and their astonished gapes grew wider still. Exclamations of amazement filled the room.
"Enough." He said. "You will follow your queen's commands. Now." He turned to Arya expectantly.
"Thank you, father." She said, still smiling. He inclined his head.
"Oromis' condition has improved. He will live." He said to Arya without disguising the relief in his voice. With that, he teleported away.
"Listen to me, all of you." Said Arya. "This city and its surrounding area is about to become host to the entire population of the dwarven kingdom." (Exclamations of surprise and dissent.) "Oh, be quiet, all of you. We have plenty of room, and if any one of you is unwilling to put aside old differences, in light of the enemy we face, you are off this council." (Dead silence.) "That's better." She said, her smile growing. "Furthermore, Du Weldenvarden is to be evacuated. Every elf in the other cities must be here by this day's end. The Alaelan army will assist us with their transportation, but our job is to make sure that everyone is organized and ready to go. Accommodation must be arranged for all our guests, and we must be prepared to work with our new allies to secure this city from attack. The Empire must also be informed of what is going on. I have faith that every one of you is up to this task." (A few elves puffed out their chests slightly.)
"Now," she said, "let us begin."