The next morning, I awoke early and noted with a wry smile Orik sneaking out of Eragon's dwelling. It was a wonder I'd gotten any sleep at all with Orik making so much racket. Alright, so maybe that was an exaggeration, but still, it was Saphira and I that Eragon complained to when Orik nearly fell over, and when he had to wrestle him into bed. He seemed perfectly fine this morning, though.

Briam remained asleep for another hour, and I picked him up when I noticed Eragon and Saphira outside. I went outside and joined them.

"What are we waiting for?" I asked.

"Oromis wants me to spar with an elf for an hour every morning before starting my lessons with him." Eragon replied. Saphira didn't say anything, but I was sure that she was concerned about his back. He wasn't standing straight anymore, and I wondered if he even could.

We stood there for about ten minutes before an elf with black hair arrived. Eragon and the elf exchanged the Elvish greeting, and the elf turned to me, bowing in the same manner as he had to Eragon and initiating the greeting.

"May good fortune rule over you."

"And may the stars watch over you," I responded. Eragon had given me the rundown of the elves etiquette a few days after I'd arrived, and Oromis had helped to explain what Eragon couldn't. It was quite the daunting memorization task.

"Did Oromis send you?" Eragon asked him.

He didn't get a response. Instead, the elf turned to Saphira.

"Well met, dragon. I am Vanir of House of Haldthin."

Well met, Vanir. Eragon scowled with annoyance. I hid a smile.

Just then, Briam stirred and yawned, opening his eyes. An expression of awe washed over the elf, and he reached out to touch him. Briam's reaction surprised me. He'd always been one to lap up the attention. Instead, he snapped at him. Vanir jerked his hand away, and turned stiffly back to Eragon.

"I will show you where you may practice with your blade."

He strode away, not waiting for us to catch up. The sparring yard was amazing. Elves, both male and female, dotted the area and fought in pairs and groups. It sounded like bursts of hail striking an iron bell every time their blades met. Underneath the trees that fringed the yard, there were elves performing the Rimgar with more grace and flexibility than I'd known was possible. I thought I'd been pretty good until I saw all of them doing it.

Everyone on the field stopped and bowed to Saphira and Briam. Then Vanir unsheathed his narrow blade and once again spoke words to Eragon.

"If you will guard your sword, Silver Hand, we can begin."

I watched Eragon as he prepared Zar'roc, and realized that he must've been having a conversation with Saphira, because she was staring at him intently. Then he began his sparring with Vanir. It was horrible; he wasn't even sparring, he was just warding him off, and he wasn't doing a very good job at it either. Vanir touched him four times in rapid succession, then danced forward and wrenched Zar'roc from Eragon's hand. Vanir dropped his sword onto Eragon's neck and said, "Dead." I stiffened, as did Saphira, and we watched intently as Eragon went to retrieve his sword. Briam was growling lowly and sitting up as far as he could in my arms. I stuck him on Saphira's back, and he crawled all the way up to her shoulder and perched there.

"Dead," Vanir repeated. "How do you expect to defeat Galbatorix like this? I expected better, even from a weakling human."

"Then why don't you fight Galbatorix yourself instead of hiding in Du Waldenvarden?" Eragon retorted.

Vanir stiffened, outraged. "Because I'm not a Rider. And if I were, I would not be such a coward as you." His voice was cool and haughty. Everyone was still and silent on the field.

"Coward, I say. Your blood is as thin as the rest of your race's. I think that Saphira was confused by Galbatorix's wiles and made the wrong choice of Rider." He may as well have insulted Briam while he was at it, and Thorn, though none knew of his existence. All three hatchlings chose humans as their Riders'.

The elves that were watching gasped and muttered among themselves with open disapproval for his words. Saphira started forward, but Eragon beat her to it by throwing his sword as hard as he could at Vanir. Eragon then drove Vanir to the center of the field, jabbing and slashing like there was no tomorrow. I sensed that his back wouldn't take this kind of abuse for much longer.

"Eragon, stop-" Too late. I stiffened as the pain rushed up my back, and uttered words in the ancient language to stop the shared pain. I had to remember to put wards around me to protect me from his pain. He fell to the ground in agony, and Vanir stood over him with a sneer.

When the seizure was done, he wiped the blood from his mouth and showed it to Vanir.

"Thin enough?"

Vanir sheathed his sword and began to walk away.

"Where are you going? We have unfinished business, you and I." Eragon told him.

"You are in no fit condition to spar," Vanir scoffed. I had to agree with him.

"Try me," was his only reply.

"Eragon," I said. He ignored me, focused only on Vanir and his getting even streak. That couldn't happen though, because they weren't even on any standings.

When Oromis's assigned hour was complete, Saphira marched up to Vanir and touched him on the chest with the point of one of her ivory talons.

Dead, she said.

Vanir paled, and the other elves edged away from him. I hurried to Eragon's side, but he clambered up onto Saphira's back and rode away. I turned to Vanir, "You would do well to keep your words cordial," I said stiffly. "Could you survive the same attack from a Shade?"

I didn't wait around for an answer. As we left, Briam growled at him.

What's the matter with you today? You tried to bite him before we knew what a complete jerk he was.

I just didn't like him. There was a quality about him that I couldn't figure out, but I just didn't like it. Now I can see that my initial reaction was correct. Our instincts are the things that keep us alive, after all.

His knowledge surprised me, but it shouldn't have. After all, dragons are unpredictable, right?