Chapter VIII: Patrols

Over the course of a few months, the six riders in training learned their craft quickly. There was one official day off a week, but it was generally accepted that this was a day for more informal training. At first Ilia had been planning on taking full advantage of not having to do anything, but as she started to spend more time with the others she saw the discipline with which they worked. Each of them had something to prove, and oddly enough she noticed that it was she and Sorren who appeared to be the least concerned about how things were going to progress.

She observed that Althea the dwarf was determined to complete her training for she wished to return to her people. Ilia wondered what Eragon thought about that, since Riders were not supposed to favour one people over another. They were meant to be keeping the general peace in the Empire and the surrounding states without bias. Each time she verbally probed him on his thoughts on the matter, however, he was vague and indifferent in his opinions. Eragon was the perfect master, easily impartial to each new trainee. At least, he appeared to be on the surface, though some were complaining that he was showing preference to her above others.

These complaints mostly came from the elves that had joined with her. The Riders who had come before them and were further along in their training (Ilia was becoming increasingly convinced that training never actually stopped) generally dismissed the claims, stating that Eragon had chosen many trainees along the way and they trusted his judgement on the matter. Ilia was struck by everyone's loyalty to the man, but as she was able to see more through her prejudices she was beginning to understand why. Eragon was powerful, there was no denying that, but he was also wise and incredibly discerning. While she had not been privy to any councils she had observed in other situations that he often took the advice of others into consideration, sometimes above his own opinion. He was quick to acknowledge the strengths in others and the faults within himself, not wanting anyone to make the mistakes he had along the way. These mistakes were more than Ilia had anticipated; he was far from the Eragon that they heard of in legend, though in many ways she thought he was better.

Once, Ilia had questioned him about why he had not personally returned to Alagaesia. He had easily told her that it was simply because he was needed here, first and foremost, but he was also very aware of the power that he held and he did not wish to provoke anyone by returning. The way in which he'd answered the question told her that the discussion was closed, but Ilia thought there was more to it than that. He'd opened himself up to reveal some of the pain he'd encountered, and as time went on Ilia realized that he'd really only shown her a taste of it. What other hurt Eragon was carrying she didn't know, but she wondered if it was greater than he let on for the simple fact that he had not returned to his homeland since establishing the outpost here.

True to his word, Eragon had put Ilia out on patrols. She had been there for nearly six months now and had come far in her training, as had those who had come with her. By now they were starting to specialize, and it was evident that Ilia's strengths were in ranged combat and defensive magic. Eragon had explained that such things as specialties had not been a luxury when he'd first become a rider, but as their numbers grew it made more sense to do it that way. Surprisingly enough it seemed that Sorren had become quite adept in casting illusions, whereas the elves were best a destructive magic. Narqa the urgal was a force to be reckoned with in combat, so much so that only her own kind would volunteer to spar with her. Althea was so reclusive these days that Ilia really had no idea what she was doing.

Patrols themselves were a lonely affair, and she was pretty sure Eragon had put her on them simply because she had teased him about it. Lately her own training had been more self-directed than anything, or she and Luan had been paired up with Torian and Oleg (his huge moss-coloured dragon), in order to practice her defense magic. Eragon was away more frequently and for longer periods of time, and had started to institute actual patrols. At first no one had thought anything of it; they trusted Eragon's word really without question. As time wore on, however, she was beginning to hear whispers amongst even the more seasoned riders. While they still trusted him, their leader was obviously hiding something.

'I think I could navigate this place with my eyes closed,' Ilia complained to Luan with a sigh.

A rumble through his silver body told Ilia that he was laughing. 'It's a good thing that you are not the one navigating, then,' he responded.

Outwardly, Ilia sighed. 'I thought this place was supposed to be safe. I don't know why we're even bothering with patrols. No one ever sees anything.'

Luan could not shrug, but somehow Ilia sensed that one was implicit. 'You know better than most why patrols are important, Dove,' he said gently.

It was the truth, though it surprised her a little to see that it had not been her default to even think of this. She had come a long way in the last six months in regards to her ways of thinking. 'Our village was barely touched by Galbatorix' reign, and then forgotten afterwards,' she responded softly.

'And Eragon has since sent some riders back to care for these areas. They won't be forgotten again.'

This was the truth, and she had been glad for it. Once she'd been able to, she and Eragon had had a conversation about her home. Ilia had not been the only one in the whole estate to survive, but after being taken by the guards with some of the other girls she had been dumped far enough away from her home that she wouldn't have been able to easily return. The death of her closest loved ones was certain, and her pain had then not allowed her to go back. Instead she'd headed for Ilirea and the journey had taken almost a full year from her home in the east.

Ilia and Luan were meant to be out all day, but she was considering leaving a little earlier. She was meant to report back to Eragon before dinner, but it was still early afternoon and she was already bored out of her mind. She liked patrolling the coast but in the last few weeks she'd been relegated to the western side where there were wide plains and then an old, dense forest. Presently she was above it, the ocean of trees making even Luan look small. The first time she'd seen it she wondered what sort of mysteries lay hidden beneath the thick canopy, and she wondered if there were creatures unknown waiting to be discovered. Now that it felt like the hundredth time, however, she just wanted something different.

'No one would notice if we went home the long way,' Ilia said to Luan.

The dragon, however, had a greater sense of responsibility than she did. 'It wouldn't be right. Eragon won't trust us with anything else if we can't do a simple task like this,' he countered.

'It's just so boring,' she insisted.

'Life can't always be exciting. Practise your words in the ancient language,' he suggested, which was what he did when he thought she had nothing else to do.

'Next time, we're asking for somewhere else.'

'That's fine with me.'

Ilia spent the next little while reciting the words and phrases, and Luan corrected her as he needed to. He learned more as she did, but he had a better memory and a better grasp on how it was all supposed to sound and work. If it was inherent to dragons she wasn't positive, but since he'd been her translator from the start she wondered if it was.

They had flown to the farthest edges of where they were told to, and Luan was starting to angle for the flight home. There was nothing beneath them except for trees, though far to the east she could see a spine of mountains rising against the horizon. Eragon and his riders had reportedly flown there before, when their outpost was little more than a camp, and had decided that a smaller territory for the riders would be for the best. He'd stated that the island they were on did not extend far beyond the mountains, and that just on the other side they were fjords and then once again the sea. Ilia had no reason to doubt that this was the truth.

As Luan changed direction the wind shifted, drawing the dragon's attention towards the east. Ilia felt his body tense and she felt the prick of interest in his mind as they were currently connected. 'What is it?' she asked him, unsure what had drawn his attention.

For a moment Luan was quiet, but she sensed that he was deliberating something. 'I'm not certain. Something feels…off,' he explained.

Instead of using words he opened his mind further to attempt to show her. In an instant Ilia grasped what he meant, and it was difficult to explain. It was as if there was a foul scent on the wind, though it was perceived only through the mind and not in the physical sense. It was likely beyond the borders of their patrol, but Ilia did not think Eragon would be so pedantic about it as to tell her off for straying a little further.

Knowing her thoughts, the dragon wordlessly turned towards the sensation. The only sound was the beating of his wings as they flew, and Ilia now focused on the ground ahead of them. What they were looking for, however, neither of them had any clue.

'There,' Luan said finally. It took Ilia a moment, but she could see what he was referring to.

'You think so? It's just a patch of dying forest. It's only natural,' she insisted. There was a clearing in the forest, and it looked big enough for Luan to land in.

'I don't know that this is natural. It doesn't feel right.'

Ilia wasn't certain either of them were right, but she supposed it wouldn't hurt to check it out.

Carefully Luan eased into the clearing, landing on a patch of grass. As he did so a physically smell did come to them, and it was such an awful assault on their senses that Ilia started to wretch. "Letta bran!" she commanded aloud, and the magic that left her was far greater than she had been anticipating, which told her that the smell was worse than she'd thought.

'What the hell is this? It's awful,' she managed, once she could breathe again. Looking around she noticed that the ground was only partially green, and the trees around the clearing were rotten and black.

Luan's eyes were focused on the sight around them, his body tense and coiled to spring at any moment. 'Death and decay,' he answered.

'Forests die all the time,' she stated, but Ilia knew that even this reasoning was weak. She'd never seen anything like this before.

'This feels evil. I don't like it,' Luan told her, ignoring her words.

Extending his neck he touched one of the trees with his nose, flinching back as it disintegrated into a slimy substance at his touch. The black substance covered his snout and he flicked his head to rid himself of it.

Looking around some more she noticed that there were no sounds. No birds for miles and even the air itself was still. Her spell had removed the awful stench for now, and even if it would permanently stop these particular trees from smelling (which was probably why it used so much of her magic) Ilia had no doubts that it would spread and the scent would return. 'We should report back,' Ilia told him, and Luan needed no more convincing than that.

The flight back was quick and quiet. They were a little later than the others and missed the briefing, but managed to catch Eragon and the others as the meeting was breaking up.

"Nice of you to join us," said Eirien, one of the elves. The smooth tone of his voice and the smug upturn at the corner of his lips made Ilia want to slap him.

As a mark of her progress, Ilia ignored the feeling that rose within her and moved passed him. "A word," she said to Eragon, "alone." Had the elf not decided to take a dig at her she might have included him, but she had not made enough progress to not be just a little bit petty. The elves above all were jealous of her interactions with Eragon, and if they were going to be rude to her she was going to milk it for all it was worth.

Eragon was likely aware of the dynamic, but he knew Ilia enough to know when there was something serious afoot. While he figured she was holding out on the others just for the sake of it, he also knew that what she had to say was likely important. After the first few months of being here she had started showing up on time and never missed a scouts' report, and her absence had had him worried.

"Come," he said, motioning for her to join him in the council room.

Ilia brushed passed him and went inside, ignoring the rest of the scouts, though she wasn't entirely sure how she was going to tell him. It sounded odd, now that she was figuring out how to word it, and she could only hope that he would just take her seriously.

"What did you find?" he asked her, for Eragon knew it had to be something.

"It's hard to explain. It was just…dead. Rotting and squishy, and very smelly. I've seen decaying trees, but never like that, and never on that scale."

Eragon nodded, and to her surprise he seemed to know what she was talking about. "Where, exactly?"

"It was just beyond the limits of our patrol, further east. Luan noticed something was off and we went to check it out. Have you seen this before?" His lack of questions told her that he had.

To confirm, Eragon nodded. "It's been cropping up in the north, and we suspected it was coming from the west. This is the farthest south we've seen it."

Understanding filled her then, as his absences started to make sense. "That's where you've been disappearing to," she said.

Again, Eragon nodded. "I've been around a long time, but I've never seen anything like this either. Not here and not on the mainland. At first we thought it was a natural phenomenon, since the land here is a little denser and much wetter. There are bogs in the north and we thought it was all just a part of that. It began to spread, however, and we fear that there is something else at work. It doesn't feel like magic, but it's the only thing I can think of. It's the only explanation."

Ilia was quiet for a moment as she thought about his words. "Or a creature," she suggested, thinking out loud.

"Another possibility, but something of that magnitude we would have encountered by now. We've been here a long time."

He did have a point, but he was right on the other account. It didn't feel like magic. Ilia didn't have much experience with it, however, so she really was no expert. "Unless it's something new. Something that's just arrived."

Eragon looked conflicted, as if he wanted to believe that but was struggling to. Eventually, he sighed. "You are not the first to suggest it, but I find it difficult to believe that there is a creature of that size roaming around. We've been seeing this for months now, and we've only seen the phenomenon spreading and no further evidence of what is making it. We've waited and watched and we've found nothing."

If Ilia were her old self, she would perceive him to be challenging her and completely dismissing her thoughts. However, she could see that Eragon was simply discussing his ideas aloud and not necessarily challenging her. "Perhaps it's smart, sentient. Even wild dragons are that."

"There are no creatures that fit that description."

The woman shrugged. "None that you know of, but does that mean they don't exist? Dragons were virtually extinct until you hatched one, if I'm not mistaken. So far over the course of the last century there has been no conflict here or on Alagaesia, but that doesn't mean something can't change."

"I've worked very hard to keep conflict from happening," he told her. There was a little more stress in his tone, and Ilia realized that this was something that was weighing on him far more than she'd first realized.

"And yet, it happens," she said softly. Her own story was evidence of that.

As if remembering, Eragon sighed heavily, shaking his head. "I know. I know it's not a perfect system, and it's not fool-proof."

"It doesn't mean you've failed," she told him.

The man's eyes went wide for a moment, before shaking his head and chuckling a little. "If someone told me that those words would ever leave your mouth when you first arrived here I probably would have laughed."

Ilia glowered at him, but then softened with a sigh. "You were my hero, when I was younger. Then you represented everything that had hurt me, so I hated you. All the Riders, really, but then I became one. Then you became my teacher, and turned out to be less the myth and the legend that you are on the mainland. Somehow that makes you easier to stand, not being so perfect."

Eragon wasn't sure what to think about that, but he was glad he wasn't so much the subject of her ire anymore. "We'll look into it, and we will keep our minds open to all possibilities," he told her.

"Are you going to let everyone know?" she asked, since his movements as of late had been kept a relative secret.

The man nodded. "Yes, I think it's time. If whatever this is is getting closer to our borders, we need everyone on alert. Perhaps with more eyes and ears we can find out what is causing this."

"Well, there is the most sensible thing you've said all day," Ilia decided.

Pursing his lips, Eragon raised an eyebrow at her. "You haven't heard everything I've said all day," he countered.

Grinning, Ilia turned towards the door. "The comment still stands."

Rolling his eyes, Eragon watched her go. He had reason to stay behind now, for he would let the council of riders know of the information she'd just passed on and his plans for letting everyone know. "For what it's worth, I'm glad I'm not your hero anymore. It gets tiring, after a while," he called after her.

It was probably the nicest thing he'd ever said to her, and it had Ilia pausing for a moment. Glancing over her shoulder, she regarded him before turning back towards the door. "Yes, I can imagine it's difficult being perfect," she returned, then disappeared through the door before he had a chance to say anything else.

Once more Eragon shook his head; she really was one of a kind. Clearing his thoughts he sent out a mental message to his top riders, summoning them back to the chamber where they would discuss the next course of action.

Calmer of the Storm: I had to make up a word because there was no word for 'smell' or even 'nose'. So hopefully that works alright.

Also, I'm really shocked no one's picked up on my wee error...I said there were five riders initially but then went on to talk about six. Lol. Well, I'm only human. Let me know what you think!