Apologies to all for the last seven months of silence. Since august I lost my job (even though I didn't care for it much), had to move house (losing internet and computer privileges along the way) and had the worst case of writer's block ever.
Though I have a long way to go in making it up to you guys, I'm going to attempt a return to this series in the hope that I haven't put the noose around my own neck creatively speaking.
You've waited long enough, so here's two chapters on the trot for you.
Chapter 25 – Dangerous Shadows
Geran was not a solitary person by a long shot, but he did like some peace and quiet every now and then. His present situation afforded him neither unfortunately, so it was strange to him that, whilst it was in the company of the elves and other nobles of the city, the elven queen Arya seemed as distant and ill at ease as he did. Geran's keen observational skills caught her expression when she thought no one was looking, and he saw that she was as melancholic as he felt, albeit for different reasons.
The only times he had seen her truly smile since his great-something-or-other uncle Eragon left for Surda was when they spent time outside and the great dragon Firnen was with them. The luscious green dragon bonded to her was of a size to Thorn and Saphira, making the other dragons that remained look tiny in comparison. Their bonded Riders required intense instruction even here in the capital, which took up even more of the elven queen's time.
Geran couldn't help but puzzle once more of the duality of the Riders and their powers. Queen Arya in herself wielded the power of a monarch to her people before she ever became a Rider, but she seemed at her happiest in the company of her dragon before others.
He continued to ponder the issue as he flashbacked to the previous day, which had seen him outside with the elves and the dragons.
Geran and Mirien both marvelled as the elves practiced their archery on a target some fifty yards distant, if only with a little effort beside their human, dwarf, and Urgal counterparts. Sat on the grass to the side, the two of them could see that even the Riders in training that were present did not yet come close to possessing the physical strength of the elves. As the others struggled to hit the centre of their targets, the elves were firing them off quicker than the eye could see, and still hitting the centre every time.
Queen Arya's retinue looked on from their canopied couches under the shadow of Firnen as he lay on the ground, his giant head only inches from where his Rider sat and eliciting an absent-minded scratch on the nose from her every-so-often. The elves around her conversed in low tones but the faraway look in her eyes told them that her mind lay elsewhere. Finally, the elf known as Vanir stood up and stretched his lithe body; the movement letting the others know the conversation was at an end.
Their Queen came out of her reverie long enough to dismiss them, her eyes catching Geran's for a brief second before passing over Mirien as well. He watched as the small crowd around her dissipated and was surprised to see that she had stood up and was walking over to him on the arm of her ambassador, though walking was an unfair reflection of her grace and poise so he amended it to gliding in his mind. Firnen made no movement save to adjust his head, making his right eye visible under a half-closed eyelid.
"Greetings Geran and Mirien, how are you today?" she asked as they approached, in a voice suffused with the likeness of birdsong.
Geran paused for a second as he got over the beauty of her voice as Mirien came to her feet and replied, "We are well Your Majesty. Our parents are dining with some minor nobles about the city and we begged leave to remain here instead."
Before Geran could copy Mirien and stand, the Queen of the elves lowered herself to the grass without ceremony and ran her fingers through the luscious grass around her. "Just Arya will be fine between us," she said as she gave them a soft smile. Vanir, having seen Arya's air of relaxation sat down next to her and Geran.
"A…Arya then," Mirien hesitantly obliged.
Arya looked at her with a keen eye, "we haven't had a chance to talk properly since meeting, so I thought this would be an excellent chance to get to know each other better."
"Even had I not known of your lineage, there is no mistaking you are of Eragon's family," Vanir said as he finally spoke. As Geran and Mirien looked at him, he nodded almost to himself as he added, "you share Roran Stronghammers' eyes, the two of you."
"And Mirien's hair has been kissed by fire the same as Katrina," Arya put in as the two siblings blushed under the attention and the praise.
"We know so little of our own family besides their names," Geran said, stunned by the elves familiarity with his famous ancestors. "Could you tell us a little about them, the only heirlooms we have are these rings spelled by Eragon," he asked as he held up the hand that held the enchanted ring of gold.
Arya's eyes passed over his hand as she replied, "Roran and Eragon were much alike, brought up together as they were. When I first met Roran, I found him to be made of sterner stuff than even Eragon. His devotion to Katrina became legendary amongst the Varden in those days as he enlisted Eragon's help to free her from the Ra'zac."
"But Eragon was a Rider; surely he was stronger than Roran?" Mirien asked, confused.
"He was, but he was also unsure of himself and felt the weight of being a Rider. I regret the times I spent making him feel so when he first came to us, even more so when he later showed me the memories of his pain at the hands of the shade, Durza" Vanir explained.
The conversation went on and on until Arya and Vanir were called away by a messenger of Queen Serai who said news had been received from Dauth. The interruption was welcome as it allowed the children to digest the new information about Eragon, Roran, Katrina and even some of the other villagers of Carvahall at the time.
That was how Geran came to be wandering the halls of the citadel alone, having shaken off the crazy old man Eragon called Tenga. No doubt the wiry-haired man was still talking nonsense about rocks and dwarfish religion to himself and had failed to notice his absence. Lost in his thoughts, Geran absentmindedly found that he'd wandered into a corridor devoid of people and lined with tapestries.
Ahead of him, he could hear voices raised in argument and hesitated as he realised that one of them was none other than the Queen herself…"We need to reinforce our frontline and send aid to Dauth, I don't care how many Riders have been sent, they can't be everywhere and they still need the support…"
The voices had gotten louder as Geran realised the owners were coming his way. Torn between staying where he was and stepping out of sight, perhaps behind one of the tapestries, he suddenly noticed that not only was the corridor empty of people, but also empty of guards and sentries. Every corridor he had seen before had had at least one armed guard at either end, if only to make sure people didn't go where they shouldn't.
He froze with indecision even as he made to hide behind one of the rich tapestries when he saw it move in a way that had nothing to do with any errant breeze coming down the hallway. A split second later he saw two things happen at once; the end of the hallway was suddenly filled with the people whose voices he had heard and he saw the tapestry move once more to reveal a figure hiding behind it. Already wary of the lack of posted guards and a foreboding feeling in his stomach, it was all Geran could do to shout, "Get Down!" as he leaped into motion, descending on the figure even as it threw something shiny at the group.
Geran tackled the man and caused him to lose his concentration even as his eyes followed the path of whatever the stranger had thrown. Thankfully the warning he had given was all it had taken for the elf Vanir to intervene, catching the knife in his bare hands even as it streaked towards him.
"What the hell?!" one of the group shouted as weapons came out and the Queen was pushed to the rear.
Vanir however did more than just bare weapons; he raised his arm and a streak of blue-green light shot from his hand. The stranger didn't stand a chance as he rounded on Geran, furious that he'd failed to hit his target, the light dying in his eyes as he toppled forward and fell to the floor at Geran's feet.
Vanir was the first to see Geran as he looked from the stranger on the floor, "I think the danger has passed," he said calmly as all eyes settled on the young man. The elf came over to examine the body and Geran heard him mutter to himself as he touched the man's head and gave the dagger a closer look.
"There you are! What have you gotten yourself into now?" Geran reeled as Tenga appeared at his side, the old man's hair sticking out at all angles as if he'd run through corridors to catch him.
"I was just looking around, I haven't seen much of this place yet" Geran replied defensively. His hands twitched nervously as he put them behind his back.
"Bahhh, you younglings always seem to just be looking around don't you? It's what your dear uncle said when I first met him too you know," Tenga said as he looked to the man lying at their feet. "I should have known the worshippers of Helgrind couldn't resist crawling out of the shadows when Eragon came back, no doubt there are more where he came from."
"He's a death-worshipper? How can you tell?" Geran asked, surely the religious fanatics of that ugly religion were wiped out at the time of the battle of Gil'ead he thought.
"They always seem to keep coming back, like the vermin they are. This one has crude spells of concealment on him that I recognise as their work from the time they thought to come after me. Curious though, that you were able to detect him at all, only those with an adept turn of mind can look beyond such spells without training," Tenga explained. His gaze returned to the bewildered boy, "You haven't had any mental training have you, or manifested a talent for magic?"
"N…N…No master Tenga!" Geran replied quickly, I'm a nobody, a descendant of someone whose name carried weight two hundred years ago.
"Humph!" the old man lost in thought as Vanir finished examining the body and stood up.
"You were right, the spells on this man were poor at best, the intent of which was to make the uncurious mind ignore him completely and eyes pass over him unseen." Vanir said, turning to where Queen Serai had moved to the head of her escort and guards. "I suggest your spellcasters be more visible from now on, should this attempt be repeated. If men of this talent were recruited by the cult of Helgrind, they should be easy to spot but also unpredictable and rash over their betters," he added with great distaste, whether for their methods or lack of knowledge regarding gramarye.
The Queen nodded in agreement before sending a runner to the leader of Du Vrangr Gata, pausing only to say "thank you for your assistance," to Vanir and looking at Geran with a piercing gaze. Hesitating as if unsure what to say she also added, "And to you, young man," before spinning on her heels without a reply and leaving as quickly as she'd appeared.
A single guard remained to carry away the body, as Geran stood shocked. It was the first time he had seen someone die, and he wished it could be the last.
He started as Vanir put a hand on his shoulder. Meeting the almost-alien gaze of the elf, he could see a shadow of something similar behind them also, a loss made more profound by the years of the one who carried them.
"I read what I could from his mind before he died," Vanir said, "his guilt and crimes were laid bare for me to see, a man consumed by a darkness he'd allowed to grow inside him." the elf's expression took on a strange edge, "and yet I saw a memory of him being someone else, a man who had a family and a life. That was all he'd become….a fading memory from which a part of him was glad for release."
Tenga cut in, "the elf's right boy, to end up in the kind of cult that asks this of their members, the only thing human about that man was his appearance, everything else had long departed."
Geran thought on their words as Tenga took the other shoulder and he allowed them to lead him away from the corridor. He had a family and a life once, he thought.