Calmer of the Storm: Well, I guess a few of you are reading it…may as well keep going for a bit ^^; I'm not really one to beg for reviews, but…is this even a good idea? Haha. Oh well…here goes nothing!

Disclaimer: I own nothing save for the character that I've created, whose name I may-or-may-not change.

Chapter I: Meeting

One Year Later

Ilia was standing at the base of the Menoa Tree in the Elven capital, Ellesmera. She was not alone, for with her there were five others; a female dwarf, an urgal (Ilia was pretty sure that one was female as well, but she couldn't be positive), a man and two elves, one of each gender, as well as their respective dragons. This small but important group comprised the next generation of dragon riders, apparently, to be shipped off and given 'proper' training.

Really, the young woman didn't want anything to do with this. Her refusal to join in any of this sort of thing had been adamant, though there was nothing in this world that could tear her away from Luan. In spite of everything he was her saving grace; she would do anything for him. The silver dragon had grown into a splendid specimen, in her own humble opinion. His wingspan was vast and seemed to grow every day; his body long and thick and his tail broad and strong. The talons on each clawed foot were razor-sharp and shone the colour of pearls, as did his teeth, and the colour of his scales glinted a brilliant silver in the sun. It was in the moonlight, however, that he held his true beauty; when flying in the air he seemed but a spectre; a figment of imagination or perhaps a trick of the light. His scales bended and shaped the moonbeams, casting a light of their own, and his eyes had settled to a deep shade of cobalt blue. The skin stretched between the bones in his wings was a darker colour, more grey than silver, but still not lacking in metallic quality despite that. Luan was not the biggest of dragons but he would grow; after a year's worth of expanding he carried with him the telltale bulk of a typical male, and it would only increase with time.

Without him, Ilia wasn't sure what would have become of her. Had he not decided to hatch for her that night she was certain that she would have ended up at least in prison, perhaps to rot forever. She was a member of society that could easily be forgotten, and she suspected that that had been the initial response. The daughter of a slain noble turned street-rat…she was nothing but a blemish on the majestic city of Ilirea. If one were to ask her what she was perceived as amongst the riders she would say that she was only a blemish here, and that it was not her sour attitude towards the whole system but her birthing and circumstance that had done it.

This attitude of hers had not earned her many friends during the year-long journey. She was distant and cold, quick to defend herself and quick to lash out and lay blame on others. According to her the misery that she felt was solely at the hand of others; how could she bring such things on herself? It wasn't as if she wanted to suffer. She hadn't wanted to lose her family and her home, and also the man that she loved. No; none of it had been her idea. This whole Dragon Rider thing hadn't either, but Luan was perhaps the only creature in this world that she didn't blame for anything. She knew his heart and mind as he knew hers; she knew that there was no deceit in it. He had her best interest at heart, and she loved him dearly for it.

The only thing that they did often disagree upon was the matter of protecting the lands. They were to have no affiliation with any one race (which was completely fine with Ilia) however they were also to remain at the beck and call of the rulers. It was on this point that Luan was apprehensive; not of the point itself but of his rider's reaction to it. Her view was jaded and her opinions formed on her past experiences.

"Luan, I'm not protecting a land with a broken system," she'd told him, once.

The dragon had responded with a gentle 'Perhaps you should change it, then.'

That had not gone over all that well, for she'd bristled and almost lashed out at him. "You weren't there, Luan! You didn't watch as the guilty were acquitted and you were not the one painted a fool. Your father's name was not slandered and your lands were not taken from you as a punishment for trying to do what was right!"

To that he had no rebuttal, but still felt as though her words were borne more of anger and her opinions formed on the bias of her pain. Did he blame her? Of course not. He would follow her anywhere, no matter what she decided to choose, for he knew that she would never turn him against his own kin. He knew the dark corners of her mind; he knew what lay hidden there, and it did not frighten him any.

The gathering had been made because they were making their final preparations for the departure to Arkenea; the lands beyond Alagaesia. They were to leave tomorrow, but there were things that needed to be covered now. It was boring and logistical stuff; what to do once they got there, what to say and how to act. Who they would be meeting and why, as well as what they were to accomplish there. Ilia knew what it was; training. Training so that they could become further dogs of the empire, and while she quite liked that they were leaving this forsaken place she didn't relish the thought of having to come back. A Rider's training was not quick, however it was expected that they would, one day, return.

"Your teacher will be Eragon and his partner Saphira," came the regal voice. It was this that piqued the young woman's interest and she turned to look at the woman who had spoken. She was the Queen of the Elves; the Queen Arya. Behind her rested a dragon whose scales seemed to be made of emerald. He was massive; at least twice the size of Luan and much thicker. His large eye was half-lidded and he seemed to be apathetic about this meeting himself, but all would know that he was watching closely.

"Eragon, as you know, is the oldest Rider of the new Order and is wise and powerful," there was a slight twitch of the Queen's lips as she said that, as if the thought amused her, "and his partner, Saphira, is the oldest living female dragon and certainly not to be trifled with."

There was a feeling that came from Luan that was rather interesting in that Ilia couldn't place it. Whatever it was he hid it from her and made no mention of it but she wasn't daft; whatever was getting to him it had to do with this dragon, even if it was nothing more than a curiosity to meet the oldest female of his race.

"Your training will be difficult, and its length will be decided by your proficiency in the various tasks set before you. You will return to Alagaesia when required, to act as guardians of the peace. You are the subjects of no nation, however you will be under the direction of Eragon and Saphira. It is not an invitation to act autonomously, for your oath as a Dragon Rider is binding and sacred, and will be treated as such." There was a severity in her tone that told all who listened that, if this trust were to be broken, the consequences would be dire.

A smile touched the Queen's lips and she looked over them all, though Ilia could not help but notice that it was a rather stately smile, and therefore one that lacked any sense of genuine feeling. She smiled because she had to; not because she felt anything genuine for these recruits. Really Ilia didn't blame her; it wasn't as if the Queen knew any of them.

"Tonight, however, you will dine with us. A feast is to be held in your honour, as is tradition for all departing riders. Atra esterni ono thelduin, Shur'tugal, un se onr sverdar sitja hvass." With that the Queen withdrew herself, climbing onto the back of her massive dragon before taking off.

She watched with slight awe as the Queen flew off, though Ilia knew it would not be the last time they saw her. The Riders were each to have a private audience with the pair before the night was through, and she hadn't decided if that as a good thing or not. Ilia's reluctance to take up her mantle was not a secret to anyone, let alone the Queen herself. What would she think of her?

'May good fortune rule over you, Riders, and may your swords stay sharp.'

The girl was snapped out of her state by the sound of her dragon's honey-smooth voice penetrating her thoughts. 'What?'

A rumble escaped his mass that sounded suspiciously like laughter, which draw a few pairs of eyes. 'Those were the Queen's parting words. I thought that you would like to know.'

The girl's face reddened, though she thanked her partner. It was also no secret that her grasp on the ancient language was not all that great, though that was mostly due to her unwillingness to take it seriously than anything else.

Later that evening, the feast had commenced. The weather was fine and it was held outdoors as to accommodate the dragons; not even elf halls were accustomed to such beasts. It was true that the elves had revered them longest, but much had happened since the first alliance. Both Ilia and Luan were full and satisfied, though it was clear that her partner was having a much better time that she was. He was cavorting with a brown dragon; Elen, she thought. It was the urgal's partner, a female of no mean size despite her age and gender. All the while she knew that he was paying attention to her, though she assured him time and again that she was quite alright on her own.

Except that she wasn't. Truth be told, this whole thing was rather intimidating. Oddly enough she'd found comfort with the urgal, whose kind she had not really ever been fond of. While they hadn't killed her family they had started the events of their downfall…but even she was smart enough to know that she couldn't begrudge the whole race. Narqa was surprisingly intelligent and even eloquent, and out of all of them (other than the elves) she had grasped onto the ancient language the best.

The two were engaged in idle conversation when an elf interrupted them.

"Forgive me, Shur'tugal, but the Queen Arya requires the presence of Lady Ilia," he stated smoothly.

Ilia almost snorted; it had been a long time since she'd been called 'Lady'. Nonetheless she followed, bidding goodbye to her newfound friend for the moment. Luan was also summoned, and the silver dragon quickly made his way over to where his rider was going.

The pair was led into a clearing, though the place had been set up more like a building than anything. The trees lined the pathway and at the end they parted, opening up to a curiously circular area. The trees that lined this were especially tall and thick and were almost silver in colour, their branches extended upwards and covering the space in a cathedral-like manner. Even still the moonlight filtered down through the trees, and there was a fire pit (Ilia thought that too crude of a word; 'hearth' might be better) in the centre that cast dancing shadows upon everything around it. In its light basked the massive green dragon and his rider, the Queen, who sat comfortably in front of him on a large cushion.

"Atra esterni ono thelduin, Ilia," greeted the Queen.

Ilia stood there a moment staring blankly, and was spurred otherwise only by the mental urging of her partner. She recognised them as the words from before; a greeting and blessing in the ancient language.

Bowing slightly, she returned, "Atra du evarinya ono varda, Arya Dro…Drottning." The girl flushed, having almost forgotten the last word.

A light smile touched the Queen's lips, "You'll have to work on your pronunciation, for that is quite important when casting spells. Nonetheless, I'm glad that you have come." There was no reproach in the Queen's tone, and this was the first time that Ilia felt any sort of remorse for not taking things more seriously.

"Come, sit down," Arya instructed lightly, motioning to another cushion with an elegant hand.

Ilia sat down, Luan moving in behind her. It was at this point that the green dragon finally stirred, shifting his great head so that he was looking at the two of them. In her eyes Luan always seemed so big, but this dragon dwarfed him significantly.

'Greetings, Ilia and Luan,' came the dragon's deep and melodic voice. It was what she had been expecting; the depth of his voice seemed to match his age and size.

'Greetings, Firnen-elda and Arya Drottning. It is an honour to be in your presence.' Luan was speaking for them all to hear, and Ilia was rather impressed with his manners; he certainly hadn't gotten them from her.

"We're meeting with the Riders and dragons individually to see how you are faring…I know that it is a lot to ask of you. While it is a great honour to be chosen as a Rider, to leave everything you've ever known behind is not easy. Riders do occasionally return to ensure that there is peace throughout the land, however most choose to remain in Arkenea to build their lives there. The Riders will, of course, be called on in times of need." There was genuine concern in the Queen's voice, and Ilia wondered why she hadn't decided to go. She was a Rider too, obviously, and she wondered which duty had come to her first.

However, she couldn't help but scoff. "I have no home here…in all honesty, your majesty, I am quite glad to be rid or Alagaesia. It's never done me any good."

A light frown touched the Queen's lips; it was obviously not the answer she had been expecting. Arya knew some of the girl's past, but only because they had done extensive research on each of the upcoming riders; those that would be the last for quite some time…until Eragon called for more. Her attitudes and sentiments, however, had not been assessed.

"How do you mean?"

Ilia bristled; this wasn't what she wanted to talk about. "Nothing…it's just that the Riders never did anything to save my family. King Aurian did nothing to punish the barbarians who ravaged my home, despite the evidence. So why would I be sad to leave such a broken system? No…not sad at all. Have they not told you that I am the 'accidental' Rider? That I was chosen because I broke the rules?"

Arya sensed the defences in the girl's mind going up, and she was rather surprised at how strong they were considering. As far as she knew, this girl had no magical ability…but perhaps they were wrong. "Forgive me, Ilia, I did not know. But understand that there are no accidents when it comes to the Riders. Luan chose you, not anyone else, and he would have remained in his egg until he found you. From now on you will only answer to Eragon and Saphira, and even then only because they are much more powerful than you are."

Ilia didn't like the thought of answering to anyone, so to go to a place where there was no real ruling power, where she would have almost absolute autonomy…it was far too good to pass up. And what would the loss of one Rider do to Alagaesia if they were to be under attack? As far as she knew in Arkenea there were dozens, and if Eragon and Saphira were so strong, then there was no need for her to come at the beck and call of the land that had treated her horribly. No, once she left, she wasn't coming back.

There was a strange sort of feeling that came from Luan again, that same one from before when it came to the mention of the female dragon. Firnen seemed to pick up on it, for the green dragon lifted his head. The tenor of his thoughts were slightly amused; he was obviously intrigued by the younger dragon's mind.

'You anticipate your meeting with Saphira,' he said, scaly lips upturned into some sort of smile. In the tone of his voice though there was something else; almost a sadness or perhaps a longing…did he know the dragon?

Luan looked slightly embarrassed; the dragon blinked and shrunk back just a little, as if he had been called out for something shameful. 'She is…my mother,' he answered sheepishly.

A general sense of surprise swept over the group, and Firnen seemed to eye Luan with a greater sense of scrutiny than before. Why that would be, Ilia didn't know.

It was the Queen who broke the silence. She had reached back and had curled a hand around one of her partner's claws; she looked to be comforting him. "You come from a strong parentage, Luan," said Arya softly. There was a smile on her face that spoke of something else, but neither the rider nor the dragon questioned it.

Their meeting ended there, then, each parting with their own thoughts of the other. Tomorrow morning the ship would leave, and Ilia would never have to set foot on this godforsaken land again.

Calmer of the Storm: Alright! So there you have it. You know the drill…review!