Chapter Thirty-Three: Arya—Kindred
Time, Arya reflected, was a funny thing.
She found it odd how it could flux; how years could pass by in a blur, yet some days felt like forever. Even after living for over a hundred years, time was still so strange.
She remembered her first decade clearly enough. She remembered the brief time she had with her father, and the cold aftermath of his death. Those days had seemed like they lasted too long and not long enough.
The two decades that followed were a bit faster. Her mother had thrown herself into ruling their domain and Arya dedicated herself to her lessons. She spent much time with Oromis and Glaedr, who became the closest things she could have to fathers after Evandar died. She met Faolin during that time, and she remembered how they had been such close friends.
But she grew restless beneath the trees. Her decision to leave and become the elven ambassador had not only seen her banished from her mother's presence, but caused time to flow faster than ever. The years began to rush by before she knew what was happening.
Then Durza and Gil'ead, and those days had been long and hard, indeed. Every day was an eternity of pain and misery, until that strange, dragon-eyed boy came in out of nowhere and broke them out in a matter of minutes.
Firnen hatched for her. Time slowed to a crawl.
Even in her youth, the days had never felt so long, but it was a good sort of stretch. She felt like she was experiencing the world again in a way she'd almost forgotten she could.
She was torn from her wayward thoughts as Saphira rushed above her and Firnen, causing Arya to gasp. Her dragon partner roared at the blue female, who bellowed in response. Firnen's wings pounded on the air as he pursued her, and Arya leaned low over his back as they picked up speed.
Saphira was in a much better mood now that she'd laid her eggs. They'd claimed the eggs for the Riders not long ago, and already the blue dragon was back to her old self—as was her Rider.
She watched as Thorn descended from the clouds above them and playfully snapped at Saphira, only to get whacked in the face by her tail. Illgra chased after him, but she was still getting used to Garzhvog's weight at her back and was noticeably slower.
Arya grinned as the three dragons ahead of them began to dive towards the cliffs and she nudged Firnen's mind. Shall we catch them?
You needn't ask me, he responded eagerly, then tucked his wings in and launched himself after their friends. She felt the rush in her blood and knew that this was where they belonged. In the sky with the Dragon Riders that were quickly becoming as close as kin.
The Crags were quiet.
Arya watched the sun as it began to set on the horizon, prodding at her soup absently. Garzhvog was across the fire with Oromis, getting clarification on a passage in the Ancient Language he was reading. The Kull Rider learned quickly, but like Eragon and Murtagh, he had much to learn of the elven tongue.
The brothers in question were abroad. Eragon had taken the egg in his care to Silthrim with Saphira, while Murtagh and Thorn were back at the Varden. It was quiet without the pair of them talking. Oddly enough, she kind of missed it despite her content with silence.
Is it so odd that you miss it? Firnen asked beside her. He was grooming himself of his most recent kill while Illgra slumbered next to her Rider across the fire.
Arya tilted her head in thought. No, I suppose not.
Garzhvog completed the passage in question Oromis had tasked him with and the elf reclaimed the book before standing to return to his hut. "That will do for today. We'll pick up where we left off tomorrow."
The Kull grunted in agreement. He took a stick and prodded at the fire, shifting some of the burning lumber, and made himself comfortable for the time being. After a few minutes of silence, he looked up at Arya.
"I saw the elf-children today."
She blinked and he went on. "I believe the werecat guided them here. They wished to see the dragons, I suspect. I think, however, that my appearance may have frightened them. They fled rather quickly after catching sight of me."
"They are young. They will learn."
Garzhvog waved the comment off. "I was not offended. Children will be children. It is the way of young things."
Arya nodded slightly. "If I might ask, what are Urgal children like? I have only ever encountered the adults of your race."
The Kull considered her question for a moment. "Offspring of the Urgralgra resemble human children for their first few years, save the color of their skin and eyes. They do not begin to grow their horns until they near their first decade."
He snorted suddenly. "They are mischievous and get into everything. They will wrestle one another for hours on end, regardless of if they are male or female, and many times they will try to wrestle with the adults. It is most amusing. A sizable gang of Urgal children can be quite a handful."
"You were a chieftain, were you not? How did you find time for such games?"
"I was not a chieftain all my life," he reminded her. "And I made time. It was my duty to lead my tribe—including the little ones. I would have been a fool to not spend time with those growing under my care. I found it rewarding, as well; a sign that under my leadership, the tribe was thriving."
It made sense, though she could hardly imagine her own mother playing with children. Then again, leading a tribe and leading an entire race were two very different things. Arya studied him for another moment. "Are you a father?"
Garzhvog shook his head. "No. My mate could not have children. She suffered a terrible wound in her youth that nearly killed her, and it left her barren. Even so, she was a fierce warrior. I was proud to be hers when she accepted me as her mate."
The elf cautiously asked another question. "Was?"
"She and two other members of my tribe were ambushed by warriors from another group. She gave her life so the others might escape—she slew all five Kull before she died of her wounds. It was a warrior's death...I carried her back to our home and buried her with all the honors of Urgralgra custom."
Arya dipped her head. "I am sorry for your loss."
"Kalga knew what she was doing. She saved the lives of the people she and I were bound to protect. There is nothing more honorable than that."
"You miss her."
"Yes," he sighed. "As I always will."
The Kull peered at her then with keen eyes. "You have known your share of loss, too. Have you not?"
Arya pursed her lips and glanced over her shoulder, but Oromis was still inside of his hut. Perhaps he was giving them some privacy. And…perhaps it was because Garzhvog had shared his loss with her, but she felt compelled to do the same.
"I have. When I was captured by Durza, I lost two companions who had traveled with me for over fifty years. One was a…friend from my childhood."
"Your mate?"
"No," she said quickly. "We were close friends, but…no. I think he wished we were mates, but as time went on, I realized more and more that we wouldn't have been suited for each other. By the time he died I was…adamant that we would not be more than friends."
Garzhvog inclined his head. "Still, you cared for him. The loss stings."
"Of course."
The Kull grunted to himself and stared into the fire. "Love is a strange thing, Arya. Strange and beautiful and terrifying all at once."
"You would know better than I."
"Would I? Are we not both bound to dragons?"
She rolled her eyes at the slight grin on his face. "You know what I mean."
Her fellow Rider chuckled. "I know. But humor does one more good than you know, especially when times are hard and the nights are long."
Arya had to agree with that.
Garzhvog poked at the fire again, stirring up cinders that danced into the air, and the quiet between them was friendly. Arya felt they understood one another better for the conversation they'd held, and that pleased her.
Being around the other Dragon Riders had seen Arya start to open up in ways she never would have done before Firnen hatched for her. Perhaps that was why she was more inclined to share with them—because she was sharing her mind with a dragon who would be her partner for the rest of their lives.
She still kept herself closed off from most other people, but among the Riders, she was willing to be more…herself? She didn't know if that was quite the word for it. It felt like a veil had lifted—well, was lifting. It was a process.
But even so, scenes like tonight were nonexistent before she joined the Riders. They were in the wilderness on a brief trip further away from Ellesmera. All the Riders had gathered, and they were enjoying their time together. Being away from civilization, with only each other and their dragons for company was oddly liberating.
"You are not telling them about that!" Eragon protested.
"I am definitely telling them about that!" Murtagh exclaimed gleefully.
Garzhvog and Oromis looked far too amused as the brothers bickered, and Arya felt her lip curve up into a slight smile. Around them, the dragons were brimming with mirth.
Eragon glared at his older brother. "Don't do it."
Do it, Saphira encouraged, laughing.
"SAPHIRA!" He sounded so betrayed that Arya's small smile broke into a full grin.
Murtagh got started before any more protests could be made. "So during this latest trip the two of us took to the Varden, Eragon and I decided to do some exploring after we finished our tasks for the day, right? There's a lot to see in Farthen Dur, after all."
She understood that well enough. The dwarven stronghold was an enormous and mysterious place. She had explored it often over the decades.
"Anyways, we've come back to Saphira and Thorn so they can fly us to the Dragonhold," Murtagh grinned at Eragon with pure devilry in his eyes. The younger man groaned, almost whining, and covered his face as he blushed furiously. "And a woman comes out of nowhere."
Arya raised an eyebrow. Saphira and Thorn were already laughing so hard they could barely control themselves.
"I'm already on Thorn and Eragon is just about to climb onto Saphira when this beautiful woman comes over and tries to seduce him. She was not discreet about it, either."
"I am going to kill you," Eragon muttered. Garzhvog started to chuckle deeply and Murtagh's smile threatened to split his face in half.
"And Eragon," Murtagh wheezed, trying to keep himself under control. "He—he just stares at her like a deer being hunted by a wolf. He looked so lost! She starts whispering pure sin into his ear and—pfft!"
Murtagh doubled over and lost control. Garzhvog growled at him, half-laughing. "And what?"
"He—he," Murtagh heaved a gasping breath. "He turned red and put her to sleep!"
Arya's other eyebrow joined the first in rising high above her eyes and she couldn't even hide her snort. Even Oromis cracked a slight smile as Garzhvog started howling. The other dragons—save Glaedr, who only shook his head in amused exasperation—began to laugh as well.
"You should have seen his face!" Murtagh was cackling madly. "He just—he jumped onto Saphira so quickly I don't think she even knew he was there for a moment!"
I didn't, I was laughing too hard, the dragoness confessed, still dying from humor.
Eragon still hadn't uncovered his face. "I hate you both!"
Thorn grinned mockingly. Who would've thought the great Shadeslayer would be terrified of a seductress?
"I hate you, too!"
Murtagh was crying from mirth. "Saph-Saphira flew him up to the Dragonhold when she got herself under control, but gods, it was hysterical!"
"Did you just leave her there?" Oromis asked, frowning.
"Oh, of course not," Murtagh chuckled, looking tenfold too ornery. "I woke her up and she was rather confused, but I explained the situation delicately. I told her my preciously innocent little brother was shy and inexperienced in matters of intimacy—"
"YOU DID NOT!"
"YES, I DID!"
Eragon forgot his embarrassment and tackled Murtagh to the ground, and they started scrapping it out while Garzhvog and the dragons howled with laughter. Arya couldn't fight the trilling laugh that left her as she watched the two Riders wrestle like children in the grass.
Then Murtagh threw Eragon into Garzhvog with his enhanced strength and a friendly brawl broke out.
Her sides were starting to hurt as the playful fight grew more and more absurd, and Arya was laughing so hard that she didn't even see Firnen reach over to push her into the thick of the brawl.
She was even more surprised by herself when she actually found it enjoyable.
Amidst the chaos, she found herself on Garzhvog's shoulders, trying to pin the Kull to the ground despite his incredible power, but he broke her grip and tossed her aside. Arya scrambled back to her feet, full of energy and joy, and spotted Eragon kick Murtagh off of him. The young man stood up just in time for Arya to sweep his feet out from under him.
He yelped and looked up at her, bewildered, as she grinned down at him. "Oops."
Eragon growled, dragon-eyes gleaming playfully, and lunged at her. Arya danced away, even leading him over Saphira's back and jumping onto Firnen in her effort to escape him. But Saphira was feeling as ornery as her Rider and whacked Firnen's flank with her tail, causing him to jump. Arya lost her balance for a split second that Eragon took full advantage of.
She had the wind knocked out of her as he pounced, driving them to the ground, but she didn't give up. They rolled on the ground, struggling for dominance, until finally Arya grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head.
She grinned down at his face, both of them flushed and panting gleefully. "I win."
"Can I beat you at anything?" He giggled.
"Only time will tell," she laughed.
Oromis stood and clapped his hands together. "Alright, I think that's enough."
Arya looked up and Eragon craned his head back on the ground to look at the older elf, then glanced at Murtagh and Garzhvog before laughing again—the Kull had grabbed Murtagh by the ankle and was holding him aloft five feet above the ground.
Glaedr rumbled more firmly. Settle down, hatchlings. We have a long day tomorrow. Rest. You shall need it.
Arya let Eragon up, pulling him to his feet, and even when they all settled down for sleep, she still felt the light, warm spark in her body that set her blood thrumming.
She belonged here.
Of course, Arya wasn't only a Dragon Rider.
That fact was made abundantly clear every time she returned to Ellesmera. It wasn't a bad thing—she had served as Ambassador for her people for almost eighty years before Firnen hatched for her. She took pride in her work, and since reconciling with her mother, she also had duties as the Princess.
However, it was becoming clear she would be unable to balance all three of her major commitments at once. There was simply too much for any one person to do—she had to train with Firnen properly if they were to help the other Riders overthrow Galbatorix, which left her unable to split her remaining time between her duties as Ambassador and Princess. She couldn't shirk one in favor of the other; she had to make a choice.
In the end, she knew what had to happen.
Arya sat down with her mother one evening and they discussed her situation. She was grateful to have Islanzadi's council again—her mother was wise and frankly, she had missed their once-close bond.
"I have to give up my role as Ambassador," she said at last.
Islanzadi blinked at her slowly. "You do not want to."
"No," Arya admitted, sighing. "I have served my people as Ambassador for nigh on eighty years. Even for our race, that is no short span of time—and it has been a massive part of my life. But I cannot neglect Firnen and my role as a Dragon Rider, and I do not wish to see us at odds again, mother. Even so, it feels as if I am going against the oath I made when I took the yawe on my skin."
She was keenly aware of the tattoo on her shoulder, which had symbolized her commitment to her duty as Ambassador.
Islanzadi inclined her head. "I understand your feelings on the matter, Arya. You have never been one to take your duties lightly. You have dedicated all that you are to your task, and even though we had our…differences on the matter, I am exceedingly proud of how hard you worked. I know that to give it up must seem nigh criminal.
"But as you said, you were chosen by the dragons, and your life is tied to Firnen's now. There is no shame in changing hands—and indeed, you may find it is not so different from what you used to do. You still travel to and from the Varden, do you not? Even if you no longer serve as the Ambassador of our people, your role is much the same as it once was."
"I know," Arya said. "I know that, and yet…"
"It is still a change, regardless."
"Yes."
"You will adapt. You always do. Your strength of will exceeds even that of your father's and my own, I think."
The rare praise gave Arya more comfort than she could voice.
She took a breath. "Then I will resign officially from my role as Ambassador—but before I do, there is still the matter of finding a successor to my role. I will not leave it to a void."
"Agreed," Islanzadi pondered the issue for a moment. "Who do you think would serve best in your stead?"
Arya had already considered this beforehand. "Initially, I had thought of asking Yaela, but she is one of our most elite spellcasters. We will need her to support the Dragon Riders when the time comes for open war. A few others were considered, but I spoke with them and none were interested in leaving Du Weldenvarden for such lengths of time—that cannot be acceptable in a candidate for the role. We must not give our allies the impression that we view them as nothing more than a bothersome task."
"A valid concern."
"In the end, only one elf has truly stricken me as a potential candidate," she said at last. "Vanir."
Islanzadi tilted her head. "He spars with the Riders often, does he not?"
"He does. He's built up something of a rivalry with Eragon and Murtagh. Eragon especially, it must be said," Arya remarked. "But he has interacted with both humans and Urgals over the years, and when I spoke with him last, he expressed an interest in seeing the other races for himself. He may be young, but he is gifted for his age and I do not believe he would shirk the task were he to commit himself to it."
"Hmm…" The Queen considered her daughter's assessment for some time. Arya was patient and steady as her mother pondered; Islanzadi valued her opinion, but in the end, she was the elf in charge of leading their race. She would undoubtedly need to think on the matter and discuss it with her council.
"I will certainly consider him," she said at last. "I think I will meet with him in-person first, then discuss the possibility with the council. But we will see to it that you are not overworked much longer, my daughter."
Arya raised an eyebrow. "I can handle my tasks as long as need be."
"I believe you," Islanzadi said, reassuring the Princess that her mother was not taking her lightly. "But nonetheless, I will make it a priority."
She relaxed and dipped her head. "Thank you, mother."
Islanzadi smiled slightly. "Enough of that for now. How goes your training with the Riders?"
"It goes well. We are progressing quickly. Master Oromis and Master Glaedr seem pleased with our performance," she said. "Firnen has been learning some of the most advanced aerial maneuvers as of late. Saphira is helping him—she's mastered them already."
"Glaedr has taught all of them well," Islanzadi agreed. "I do not know if I ever saw dragons so talented even when the Riders were at the height of their power."
"They would be most pleased to hear you say that," Arya smiled.
"Yes, I imagine they would be," the Queen matched her. They both knew how much the dragons loved praise.
"If I may, Arya," Islanzadi started. "Firnen and Saphira…"
Arya knew what was coming and held a hand up briefly. She considered the question for some time, debating on what she should and shouldn't say regarding her partner.
"They have grown close," she admitted. "Saphira and Thorn have long-since accepted that they do not desire to be mates. Illgra has been persistently pursuing Thorn, and Firnen has done the same to Saphira, albeit more cautiously. I believe Saphira and Thorn are taking more time to consider their possible mates than they did previously. Not, I think, because they find them lacking, but perhaps because they wish to be as certain as possible about the matter."
"I see. Is Firnen more cautious because of Saphira's eggs?"
"Oh, hardly," Arya's smile grew some. "He claimed her offspring would be as beautiful as she is…although he also confessed that any offspring borne of a union between Saphira and himself would be even more so."
Islanzadi laughed. "Was that comment directed at Thorn?"
"It was. They got into a rather…lengthy spar as a result."
"I can only imagine," her mother leaned back in her seat; a rare display of relaxation, and Arya felt just as easy in their conversation. "Will you tell me more?"
"I will."
Of the other three Riders, Eragon was without a doubt the one Arya had grown closest to over the years.
They spent a lot of time together. Partially because Saphira and Firnen were steadily growing more interested in one another, but also because they just got along. Even outside of their training and tasks, it wasn't uncommon that the two of them would be together all day when they could manage it.
They spoke often, though it wasn't unusual for the pair of them to find a quiet space and simply share their company. Eragon often brought books with him wherever he went, and Arya would usually take the opportunity to get some work done. Sometimes, Eragon would bring Saphira's egg out and tuck it close to him to keep it warm, and he'd speak softly to baby inside.
Once, he'd caught Arya looking at the egg in silence for some time. He'd simply stood up with the egg in hand, walked over, and offered it to her to hold.
It was nostalgic and strange to hold a dragon egg again, but also warm and welcome. She appreciated that gesture of trust more than she could find words for.
They learned one another's body language surprisingly quickly. The two of them could hold short conversations without saying anything at times. A glance here and a slight tilt of the head there; silent questions and answers without speaking at all.
There was a click between them that was easy to understand.
Watching Eragon grow had been an interesting experience for her. He'd been sixteen when they started training under Oromis and Glaedr, and now he was almost twenty. He'd matured a lot—oh, his personality hadn't changed much, for he was still ornery and curious of everything, but he had grown into his position as a Dragon Rider well. He was less and less like a child every day and more a full-grown adult.
He'd become more elf-like in some ways. As a physical example, it became clear not long into their apprenticeship that he wouldn't be able to grow a beard as humans did. While Murtagh was forced to shave infrequently to keep his appearance trim, Eragon's face didn't bear facial hair at all, just like elves.
He hadn't grown much taller, which made sense. Brom was of average height, and from what Arya understood, Selena was no taller. At this point, Eragon stood eye-to-eye with her, if perhaps the slightest bit taller. Murtagh had nearly half a head on them.
He didn't like that. Murtagh felt his height made him resemble Morzan more, but he got over it quickly. It wasn't as if he could do anything about it.
Eragon had also—for the most part, anyways—tamed the wildfire blood within him courtesy of the dragons. He was still by far the most aggressive fighter they had, but his draconic instincts didn't get the better of him these days.
It did, however, become something of an unspoken tradition for them to spar all night during Dagshelgr. The event always got him riled up, even with the protective spells. Murtagh and Garzhvog found it hilarious.
Their friendship had grown a lot faster than she would have thought possible. It had been only three years and somehow, it felt like time was dragging so they could cherish every moment. The passing of time under Du Weldenvarden's leaves had never seemed so slow.
Arya was called to meet with the other Riders early one morning. Spring had just begun and the forest was steadily warming. Even so, flying on Firnen, she dressed warm for the chilly air in the sky.
She met her friends outside of Oromis' hut, at a small table they'd constructed just for outdoor meetings like this.
"Is something amiss?"
"No," Oromis shook his head and gestured for them all to sit. "But there are a few topics we need to discuss. We are growing ever closer to open war with Galbatorix, and I would like to prepare some assurances for any outcome."
Garzhvog frowned. "Such as…?"
"For one, in the event that we should fail, we will need places to hide dragon eggs and Eldunari from Galbatorix."
"Why not here?" Murtagh pointed out.
"Ideally, I would like to keep them here," Oromis admitted. "However, we cannot bet all of our chances on a single location. We need other safe places around Alagaesia that we can rush to should the worst happen. For example, if reaching Du Weldenvarden is not possible in such a scenario, we must have alternatives."
"Makes sense. But I still see some issues," Garzhvog grunted. "For one, if we were to fail, Galbatorix would undoubtedly tear these locations and information from our minds. The whole purpose of these safe places would be for naught."
And that is where your next lesson comes in, Glaedr rumbled. Memory-alterations and enchantments.
"We would enchant such locations with spells to erase or alter memories, much like how Opheila and Illgra's hiding place was constructed," Oromis explained. "By doing so, Galbatorix would be unable to find such places in your minds because, quite simply, you would not remember them."
"And then we give the information to those who will stay clear of the conflict indefinitely," Arya concluded. "So they can find any eggs and Eldunari we manage to save?"
"Ideally, yes. It is a worst-case scenario that we should have to utilize such places, but nonetheless, I believe it wise to do so. Our primary safe place will of course, be here—at the Crags of Tel'naeir. But we need a few others, as well. Thus, we must scout out and take note of possible locations."
He pulled out a map of Alagaesia and unfurled it for them all to see. Eragon tapped a finger on the tiny mark of Ristvak'baen. "I think we should avoid using this place again. It's too structurally unsound to use any longer, and someone will notice if we try to rebuild it."
"I agree," Arya nodded.
"But a hiding place in the northern reaches of the Empire, or just outside its borders, is a good idea nonetheless," Murtagh pointed out.
Eragon pursed his lips, considering something in silence. "It is."
Arya blinked at the thoughtful expression on his face, but Thorn interrupted anything he might have said. The ruby dragon's nose dipped carefully towards the map. It is dangerous, but we could also use the middle of the desert. There are mountains in the very center that are too deep for anyone but Riders to explore safely. It would be risky, but it is warm, and if we were to find a cavern, it could be a safe place for eggs and Eldunari to survive in.
"It would certainly be dangerous," Oromis mused. "But the Empire would never venture there. That is for certain. Even the Forsworn, at the height of their power, never went that deep into the desert."
He dipped a quill in ink and circled the location. "So, we shall consider the desert mountains. Where else?"
The Beor Mountains are a possibility, Illgra pointed out. They are vast and dangerous. If we could find a place safely hidden from even dwarven civilization, we might yet identify another suitable location.
"True," Garzhvog admitted. "But we have to consider the packs of Shrrg and Nagra we'd undoubtedly run into that deep in the mountains, to say nothing of the Urzhadn. That may be too risky of an endeavor, even for our dragons. They can breathe fire, yes, but in close quarters, a bear can do terrible damage to any living thing."
Oromis tapped his finger on the table ponderously. "We will consider them. I think, however, that we will have to narrow down possible sites much more closely. Caves become risky when the bears use them so often."
Eragon looked up, finally breaking from his thoughts, and glanced at Murtagh. When he spoke, he sounded hesitant. "What about Moonlight Lake?"
Arya frowned. "Moonlight Lake?"
Oromis looked confused as well. "There is no such lake on the map, nor is it any place I've heard of."
"You wouldn't have heard of it; Murtagh and I are the only ones who know where it is," Eragon told them. "We discovered the lake on a hunting trip deep in the Spine. It's very well-hidden and as far as we know, there are no Urgal tribes in the area. There are wolves, sure, but as far as native wildlife goes, mostly everything there we can handle."
He and Murtagh shared a long look. The older man was quiet for some time.
"I do not wish to disturb it," he murmured.
"There are plenty of other locations in the Spine," Eragon told him. "But it might be worth seeing if we can find something close to the lake. That far out, it'd be safe enough."
Murtagh pondered for some time longer before sighing. "Very well. But we should not interfere with the lake more than necessary."
"I know."
"Why not?" Garzhvog asked curiously.
"And why, pray tell, have you not mentioned this lake before?" Arya queried.
Eragon pursed his lips. "The lake is unique. Of all the places I've seen in Alagaesia, there's nowhere quite like it. It's important for a number of creatures you won't find anywhere else in these lands, and I do not wish for it to become common knowledge. I would not see it overrun by people of any race."
Murtagh nodded in agreement and Arya was surprised at how defensive they were of the location. Oromis as well seemed rather intrigued.
"If you believe it will be secret and safe, we would be remiss not to consider it," he began carefully. "As Eragon said, we do not necessarily have to choose a hiding place at the lake itself. If it is as deep in the Spine as you say, the Empire will not dare venture near it."
"As long as we do not disturb it," Murtagh murmured.
"Very well. We have two potential locations and a third under consideration," Oromis decided. "Glaedr and I will spend the next few days teaching you about memory-altering spells and how to work around them. Then we will send you off in pairs to investigate the locations for yourself. Survey missions were common for the Riders of old, though it has been some time since we led one. We will consider this to be one of those. Any questions?"
There were none. "Then let us begin."
Arya leaned low over Firnen as they followed Saphira deep into the western mountains. The Spine was vast; an immense wilderness of forest and craggy peaks, and it was an excellent place for anyone to hide.
They had started at the remains of Carvahall, which was quickly becoming overgrown by the wild once more. The ash blanket was gone. In a few more years, one would never be able to tell there had been a town there at all.
Eragon had been saddened by the sight, but he managed his grief better than he had the first time he saw it. His friends sent him pulses of reassurance and he steadied himself before long.
They flew north, altering their course slightly west closer to the ocean. Though they could not yet see the water, Arya knew they couldn't be far from it. She was surprised by how far they were going. They travelled for hours before Eragon signaled for them to land at a small, stubby peak.
She pulled her cloak around her more tightly as she dismounted Firnen. Eragon did the same as he looked around to get his bearings. While Arya waited on him, she looked west—almost a straight shot out lay Vroengard; the former island stronghold of the Riders. It was a long flight away, and they would not go there anytime soon, but she was curious of the legendary island nonetheless.
How could she not be?
Eragon got her attention with a quiet whistle and pointed towards the woods. "This way."
She frowned. "We can't fly there?"
"No. The trees around the lakeshore are too thick, and spotting it from above is virtually impossible," he said. "You'll see what I mean when we get there."
She had to admit, her curiosity was piqued. He had been very close-lipped about the lake, and Murtagh had been the same. Even Oromis and Glaedr had been unable to get much of anything out of them.
They started walking through the dense pine forest, through which Saphira and Firnen barely fit. It was roughly midday, and yet there was still low-hanging fog along the ground as they walked, silently, on fallen pine needles and soft foliage.
"Why did you and Murtagh come out this far? This is almost a week's worth of travel away from Carvahall on-foot."
"Several reasons," he murmured, gently moving a branch out of his way as he spoke. "The lands immediately around town and our home were frequented by other hunters. The game knew to be wary of people and they were difficult to track down. There was also competition from those hunters, and wolves who knew they might steal a kill from us. In harder times, we ventured further out to avoid that issue altogether. The game this far north knows little to nothing of people. It makes them somewhat easier to hunt, although they are harder to reach."
He stopped for a moment to look up, gauge the sun's position, and then directed them a bit further northeast. "Murtagh and I also liked to explore, as I'm sure you know. We thought maybe we'd get to see the ocean, but we never got that close. The trip would have been too long, what with Garrow and Roran waiting for us to bring food back.
"And if we were to head too far east, we started to see Urgal tracks. We avoided those lands altogether, as you can imagine. We were only boys. I first saw an Urgal track when I was…oh, maybe twelve? When I realized what it was, I ran all the way back to the farm. I promised Garrow never to go that far east ever again. We made sure the rest of the town knew about that, too."
"You never saw them, though."
"No, and for that, I am grateful."
"How old were you when you found this lake?"
"Thirteen. That was a rough year—it froze terribly throughout the winter and the animals were scarce. We had to travel deeper into the Spine to find anything for our family to eat."
Eragon led them through the woods for nearly two hours when they came across dense vegetation the dragons could not pass through. They decided to set up camp then; a short task while Saphira and Firnen made themselves as comfortable as they could manage.
When they were done, Eragon looked back at them. "Stay here. The lake is perhaps a hundred yards north of us. Be quiet, ideally. The animals that live there are very shy, and they do not take loud noises well."
Saphira snorted, but inclined her head. Very well, little one.
He smiled at her and then led Arya through the massive pines. Traversing through them took a little more time than she expected; she knew the underbrush was thick, but it seemed to form a living wall of vegetation.
As they passed through it, she began to see trees she hadn't seen before in the Spine, with thinner roots that protruded above the soft earth. Eragon glanced back at her. "Mind your footing here."
She nodded as he retreated back into silence. He seemed very cautious of making any noise at all, she noticed.
They emerged on the other side of the vegetation wall, standing on roots for footholds, and Arya got her first look at the lake.
Immediately, she was struck by how unbelievably clear the water was; she could see all the way down to the bottom. It was like peering through glass. She could see every little fish and creatures swimming through it, and she saw the lakebed itself was covered by a thick blanket of underwater grass. It was rather large—certainly bigger than she was expecting. She looked to the west and realized that side was walled off by an enormous cliff, at the base of which were a series of large cave openings. She guessed that was where the water came from.
Trees were growing in the lake, as well—or at least, in the more shallow locations. They grew high, covering the water with their canopy of leaves, and Arya realized then why it would be difficult to spot the lake from the air. In fact, as she looked around, she saw that event the trees lining the lakeshore were so wide with their branches that they cast the water in perpetual shadow, which no doubt shifted for the sun above them. To further hide it, there was a blanket of fog delicately roiling over the surface of the water.
It was beautiful. She had only ever seen water this clear deep in the Beor Mountains. Even Kostha-Merna wasn't so glassy. But she wondered on the name…
Arya looked at Eragon curiously. "I assume there is a reason you call it Moonlight Lake."
"There is," he admitted, smiling a little. "And we will see it in moonlight. This place is one of my most preciously kept secrets."
His expression became more serious as he met her eyes. "I do not share it lightly. But I think you will understand why I wish it to remain hidden."
She nodded slowly. "We shall see."
"We shall. Now—come. I will show you some of the places Murtagh and I have explored while there is still daylight. We must remain quiet."
They were quiet. Eragon seemed to go out of his way to make scarcely a sound, and Arya mirrored him. They explored a few possible sites to hide dragon eggs and Eldunari around the lakeside and in the forest surrounding it.
But when Arya pointed out the caves half-hidden by the water, Eragon immediately shook his head.
"No. We don't go anywhere near those caves. I will not disturb those who call it home."
He was adamant and firm. She frowned at him. "Are they dangerous?"
"No."
Her frown deepened at the short answer. "Tell me about them."
"Not yet."
Arya's eyes narrowed. "And why not?"
Eragon met her gaze, undeterred. "There are some things, Arya, that you have to see before you learn anything about them. Some things you must have no knowledge or expectations of beforehand."
"You are not making any sense."
"Do you trust me?"
"Of course."
"Then trust that you will understand in the evening."
Her curiosity was brimming beneath her skin. He was never so secretive.
"Very well."
The sun's leave plunged the forest into darkness.
They had returned to the dragons as the sun set, eating in silence and communing with their minds while they waited for the night to claim the Spine. Eragon glanced up at the sky frequently, and explained that he was waiting for the moon to emerge over the trees.
When they saw the silver orb high in the sky, he stood up. Arya matched him.
Eragon looked at his companions. We must be completely silent from now on. There are creatures that leave the caves and come to the lake only at night. They are shy and will flee immediately if we make too much noise. And above all, do not touch their minds.
The dragons tilted their heads, bewildered by the condition. Arya raised an eyebrow. Why not?
I have a hypothesis, he told them, glancing towards the lake. I suspect I know what they really are, and if I am right, they will see mental contact as an attack. They will not risk such a thing and will retreat before we can attempt any sort of communication with them. No touching their minds whatsoever. Am I understood?
Firnen seemed a little perturbed. You will not be threatened?
Eragon smiled a lifted a hand to pat the dragon's snout reassuringly. They are very kind. When you hear them, do not fear for us. They love to sing in moonlight.
She could feel Firnen's fascination bleeding off of him and mixing with her own. Eragon was only stoking their curiosity more and more. He faced her at last. Come.
They walked out to the lakeside again, even more delicately than before, and when they reached the water, her eyes widened.
The underwater grass at the lakebed was glowing a soft, yet vibrant blue. It flowed gently, shining in tandem with the moonlight pouring down on the lake. It was bright enough that she could see the fish still swimming above the grass. Larger fish had emerged; perhaps from other parts of the lake, or even the caves, and they were schooling around the submerged trees. They moved as one, slow and ponderous.
Eragon nudged her mind slightly to regain her attention and she blinked at him, then watched as he did something she did not expect at all.
Slowly, delicately, Eragon slipped into the water. He looked over his shoulder at her once he was submerged up to his shoulders and inclined his head towards one of the trees growing in the lake, near the submerged caves at the base of the cliff.
Arya hesitantly put a foot in and was startled.
It was warm. This far north? Even at summer's height, she had no idea why the water was at such a temperature.
She slipped in easily and followed Eragon as he quietly swam to the tree he'd pointed out and climbed up onto the roots, where he sat down. She followed him and took a seat beside the other Rider.
He held a finger to his lips and then tapped his head. She nodded and opened her mind to him.
Now we wait. It shouldn't be long; I think we've been quiet enough.
Why the need for silence?
Sound travels further in water, he reminded her, and she remembered that from her lessons with Oromis when they discussed the oceans around Vroengard. And they live in the caves, where sound reverberates. If it is not a noise they are used to, they grow wary.
How did you and Murtagh see these…creatures, then?
Pure luck the first time, and a lot of patience afterwards. It took us nearly a year to figure out how to behave around them.
She could only imagine the pair of teenage boys trying to sort all of this out on their own.
They waited in silence, and Arya was content to watch the fish swim above the shimmering, silver-blue light of the lake grass. Minutes passed them quickly. Almost an hour went by.
Eragon lifted a hand slowly and nudged her arm. Arya's sight followed his pointing finger to the entrance of the submerged caves.
She only saw the slightest movement first, then watched as a gray, serpentine shape left the darkness of the caves. It moved oddly at first, sweeping from one side to the other as it scanned the lake, and then she realized the length of the animal was just its neck. A streamline body followed, swimming with four, paddle-like flippers, and then an oddly short tail behind it.
She'd never seen anything like it. The creature came out further into the length and she realize that it was large; the neck accounted for half the body length, but she estimated it to be perhaps as long as thirty feet—perhaps even more so.
It rose slowly to the surface and as it breached the water, she felt the breath leave her lungs all at once.
The creature's gray scales shimmered upon contact with the air and began to glow starlight-silver in the most incredible, dappled patterns she'd seen in her life. It was an ethereal bioluminescence the like of which she could not have imagined. She watched as its neck curved elegantly, arching until it was nearly ten feet in the air and dripping water like liquid crystal. As its delicate head left the water, Arya realized it had a small crown of horns, almost like tiny antlers, decorating the sides of its head. They glowed as well, but they were a deep gold, framing the creature's similarly-colored eyes.
The animal surveyed its surroundings in silence, making scarcely a noise as it continued to drift lazily. Its eyes found Arya and Eragon, and it stilled. She did not move as it made its inspection, following Eragon's lead to judge how to act around it.
It tilted its head at them curiously for several minutes, but then seemed to decide they were not a threat. It completed its scan around the lake and glanced at them once more, then lifted its head and parted its mouth to make a soft, mournful cry.
It was a heartbreakingly beautiful sound she had nothing to compare to, the sort of sound that made her feel things she did not even know she could feel, and her eyes stung until she had to blink tears away.
As the creature's cry faded, she realized that more animals just like it were coming out of the caves. It must have been a leader, scouting the area out before bringing the rest of the group in. The first one submerged and its incredible glow faded back to gray.
She watched as eight more animals swam into the lake of various sizes. Two others were as big as the first, which she suspected was fully grown, and the rest were of differing sizes, but noticeably smaller. The smallest wasn't even as long as she was tall, and she almost missed it because it was tucked under the fin of one of the adults, hidden and safe in its shadow.
They began to swim towards the school of large fish she had seen earlier, and Arya watched, fascinated, as two of the big ones herded the fish into an open area. As the fish began to get nervous, the pair of hunters descended deep in the lake and began to blow bubbles from their nostrils, creating a net-like circle around the school of fish. When the net was complete and the fish were panicking, blinded by bubbles, the entire group of creatures darted in with startling speed, taking turns to snap their elegant jaws around the trapped fish.
Arya and Eragon watched them continue their hunt for some time in silence. She was fascinated by the creatures; what were they? She had never heard of anything like this, nor had she read of such animals in any book the elves possessed.
Eragon shifted slightly and Arya glanced at him, eyes going wide when he began to slip into the water.
What are you doing?
He looked up at her and his smile was giddy. Are you coming?
She sucked in a sharp breath and looked at the creatures, who were by now mostly sated and hunting more lazily than before. Her gaze fell back to Eragon, bathed in mountain water and moonlight with a gleam in his dragon-eyes, and she knew her answer.
Arya quietly followed him into the lake and swam out with him towards the creatures. The leader took notice of them quickly and lifted its head above the water, which once more glowed. It studied them curiously, but she could see caution in its eyes, and she had to remember not to try and reassure it with a touch of her mind.
Eragon took a quiet breath and submerged beneath the water, so she followed him. Her eyes remained open beneath the surface and it was just as clear as before. The leader of the creatures followed them underwater and swam closer at a sedate pace. She felt a deep rumble travel through the water from the leader's throat, and then suddenly, all nine of the animals were circling them at various depths, inspecting the two Riders with interest.
The leader approached them from the right, coming so close she could have reached out and touched it. She met the luminous, golden eye as it passed her by. It was an elegant animal, with clear intelligence in its gaze, and she couldn't help but compare its noble form to a dragon's. Were they related in some way? She thought it likely.
The leader continued past her to look at Eragon, and here it almost stopped completely in the water to stare at him. It move closer, opening its mouth and flicking its tongue at him. Arya watched, heart hammering, as the appendage brushed Eragon's face, but he looked so happy.
Its golden eyes gleamed suddenly with recognition and it made another rumble, lighter this time, and darted downwards. The other creatures backed off slightly, but kept close.
Eragon touched her mind with his own. Get behind me and hold on tight.
What for?
Just relax and do not be afraid.
Endlessly curious, Arya did as he instructed and swam behind him, wrapping her arms around his torso. They began to sink and she caught a glimpse of movement beneath them. Her blood pulsed furiously in her veins at the sight of a graceful neck slipping between their legs until a vast, gray back was directly beneath them.
Then it rose and they were pressed between smooth, strong scales and the water, which pounded down on her shoulders until she felt her mouth part in a gasp, and then there was light.
Starlight glimmered beneath her as the creature's head, neck, and back all breached the surface. It lifted that elegant head again and made another mournful cry, and Arya looked up with wide eyes to see the rest of the animals surface along with their leader. They matched its cry in a gorgeous song that made her heart ache, and she was breathless for how beautiful it was.
The leader turned its head slightly to watch the Riders upon its back, its golden crown a noticeable difference to the other animals whose antlers were silver. It trilled and one by one, the rest of its family swam close to its back to investigate the newcomers for themselves.
One of the big ones lowered its head to Eragon and he slowly lifted a hand, waiting for the animal to complete the contact. It sniffed him, then pressed its snout to his hand, rumbling with content. This close, she could see the delicate, yet sharp teeth as it opened its jaws slightly, and yet she didn't feel threatened at all.
A smaller animal craned its neck up to investigate her and she held a hand out for it to inspect. The creature tilted its head as it caught her scent and opened its mouth to engulf her fingers, but it was gentle. She could feel its tongue pressing to her fingertips as the juvenile tried to work out exactly what she was.
Eventually, it must have decided she wasn't food, because she was released and it decided to rub against her arm instead. It got some of her hair in its nose and snorted, shaking its head, and she couldn't help but laugh. The noise made the little one tilt its head dubiously, but the leader was not threatened by the peals of laughter and so it did not flee.
Eragon looked back at her and his smile was wide and joyful, and Arya felt like she could be happy forever.
They were only on the leader's back for a few short minutes when it decided to submerge again. Arya held onto Eragon until they were fully underwater and then let him go, watching as the animals began to swim again as they pleased.
Two of the smallest creatures—including the baby that had been tucked beneath its parent's flipper—circled them especially closely. The baby bumped its head into Eragon's chest and he lifted a hand to delicately rub its back. It wriggled beneath the water and darted back its parent, but the adult only seemed amused, for it snorted bubbles.
The other decided to test Arya's sleeve, nipping it lightly before it determined her clothing was not food. It swam off to look for more fish. Eragon regained her attention when they were mostly left alone and pointed to the surface. She nodded and followed him.
They swam back to the tree and climbed onto its roots, where they sat down, breathing audibly and completely drenched in mountain water.
"Well?" Eragon prompted, dripping wet and watching her with a large grin.
Arya opened her mouth and closed it. She tried again and shook her head when words failed her, and Eragon laughed. She couldn't help but laugh with him, giddy and still unbelieving of everything she'd just experienced.
One of the creatures lifted its head above the water to watch them quizzically as they laughed themselves silly, but it didn't seem bothered. It appeared the Riders had been declared non-threatening by the animals.
She finally caught her breath and stared at Eragon, eyes sparkling. "Tell me everything."
He regained control of his giggles and looked out over the lake, where they could see the animals continuing their hunt. "Murtagh and I call them Moon Singers. They only emerge at night, when the lake glows in moonlight and the weather is good. I think they're actually the Sea Serpents the Riders spoke of, but they never got close enough to see them."
"Why not?"
"Sea Serpents are hunted by the Nidhwalar," he explained, and she recalled the great aquatic predators Oromis had told them of. "Do you remember how they attack?"
"They paralyze prey with the power of their minds," Arya remembered, and clarity struck her. "That's why you didn't want us reaching out to them…"
"Exactly. I think they react to any mind breaching theirs as a predator's. They can't afford to take chances—it could cost them their lives."
Arya nodded and then frowned. "How are they here? This is leagues away from the western sea."
"I think it's because of the caves," he supplied. "I haven't explored them, but the only logical way they could get here is if there's an underground river system or something similar leading all the way from the ocean out to here. Maybe there are lakes underground as well—there has to be more than this small handful of the species."
"Why would they come here in the first place?"
"I can only guess, but I think it's where they raise their young," Eragon told her. "Every time I've seen them here, they bring little ones. I imagine these underground rivers and caves might be one of the few places where the babies are safe. They certainly aren't as well-protected in the ocean, and they're probably extremely vulnerable to Nidwhalar and other predators until they're a bit bigger."
A thought struck her. "This is why you go out of your way to read about sea serpents so much."
He smirked at her and she knew it was the truth. "I admit, I was curious. Murtagh and I knew little about them save what we saw here, and I was hoping the elves or Riders would know more. Imagine my surprise when I found out they knew even less than we did."
"They were hidden here all this time…" Arya shook her head in amazement. "And you kept this a secret?"
Eragon's smirk faded and he looked out at the swimming Moon Singers. "When I saw them for the first time, I thought for sure this was what magic must look like. I was just a child; barely fourteen, and it was…"
He opened his mouth to continue and then shook his head. Arya understood and nudged him, smiling a little. He smiled back, small and somewhat bashful.
"I couldn't tell anybody about them. Murtagh and I—we both swore on our lives we wouldn't speak of the Moon Singers to anyone who wouldn't understand. No one from Carvahall knew. Not Brom, Garrow, Roran…our dragons knew, of course, but they honored our wishes to keep it secret. This place should remain untouched and unmolested by civilization forever. That's how I feel when I see this."
He looked at her and his dragon-eyes were steady. "This secret was ours. Now it is yours."
Arya saw the unquestionable trust in his eyes and was touched. She lifted a hand to her heart for a moment, then reached over to his with that same hand, feeling the way his life pulsed strong beneath his skin. "Elrun ono, Eragon iet-fricai."
Eragon blinked slowly, appreciatively, and she removed her hand, turning back to watch the Moon Singers—she liked that name much better than Sea Serpents, she decided. It suited them.
A few of them would swim by occasionally, breaching the water to observe the Riders sitting on the tree roots. One of the big ones came close a few minutes later and Eragon started to sing.
He sang lyrics in the Ancient Language she recognized easily—it was a gentle tune elves sang to their children to guide them to sleep. He sang light and soft, and the Moon Singer lifted its head to listen to him curiously. Across the lake, the rest of them rose up as well and listened.
The leader threw its head back to make a soft cry, and the others began to sing with it. The melody somehow flowed with the elven song that left Eragon's lips, in a way that seemed exotic and familiar all at once.
Arya watched them for a time and then turned her eyes back to Eragon. His eyes were closed and his lips curved up into a gentle smile as he sang with the Moon Singers; peaceful and happy and free in a way only a Dragon Rider could be.
Did he know how beautiful he was when he looked like that? When he was so joyful it seemed nothing in the world could ever go wrong?
His voice was musical and sweet in the cool mountain air, and Arya felt like she could remember the sound of it forever.
The months passed slowly.
The time for war had come.
Arya looked down into the valley as the Varden filtered out of Farthen Dur—perhaps forever. The dwarves would follow them in a few weeks, but the time for the humans to march was now.
She lifted a hand to Firnen's jaw, scratching his scales as they watched the exodus. Beside them, Murtagh and Thorn stood close and also observed. They could see Nasuada and Brom at the head with a number of their best warriors, including a company of thirteen elven spellcasters selected specifically to help the Riders. Jormunder was helping to guide the rest of the Varden out, and he would eventually take up the rear of the massive company.
Next to Brom and Nasuada, Arget stalked with long strides of her legs, shoulders rolling with muscle. At her feet, Maud padded close to the great Shrrg—Arya never thought she'd see the day when the werecat would leave Du Weldenvarden, but Maud had expressed a desire to see Solembum in Surda, and she wished to help them.
Eragon and Garzhvog were in the northern reaches of Alagaesia, seeking out the Urgralgra to hopefully form an alliance. The Blue Rider would return when Garzhvog began to hunt for Kulkarvek; that task had to be left to Garzhvog, Illgra, and Opheila. Maud would undoubtedly make her nest in Eragon's tent when he joined them, for Arget most often slept near him and Saphira.
Arya's kin were almost ready to march as well. Islanzadi was moving the army south to the edge of Du Weldenvarden. They estimated that by the time Surda was reclaimed from the Empire, the elves would be ready to strike.
Either the Mad King would die within the next two years, or they would.
Her eyes were flinty and sharp. Murtagh and Thorn brushed her and Firnen's minds.
Come. We must scout ahead.
She nodded and the two Riders leapt onto their dragon partners. Thorn and Firnen loosed bellows and the Varden cheered as both dragons jumped into the air to glide over the valley of warriors, leading them on.
Arya and Firnen glared westward, where they knew Galbatorix was lurking—the same man who had murdered her father a century ago.
We are coming for you, Traitor King, they thought as one. And we shall slay you.
A/N: Whoa, this ended up being way longer than I thought it would be.
Just a bit of supplement when you read the chapter, but when the first Moon Singer emerges, try listening to the sound track from How to Train Your Dragon 3. The ost in questions is "The Hidden World" and it greatly inspired the visuals and atmosphere of the scene.
The next chapter will be Eragon's POV, and then the story will move into the Surdan War/Kulkarvek arc!
As ever, please review and thanks for reading!