The trio, after Arya and Firnen came down from flying, set up camp for the night. Fire came easily, for there seemed to be an abundance of dry kindling and timber, which made making a campfire easier. With their bedrolls opposite of each other across the fire, Arya watched as Brom fell asleep, and envied the man, for she could not.

How could she, for hundreds of thoughts were swirling around her head, each one making her stay awake, pondering upon said thoughts? How was her cousin? For she left him parentless and alone in Carvahall. How was Katrina? For she also was left alone only with an estranged parent and a parentless future spouse. How was Carvahall as a whole? The townspeople surely had given up their search by now, but she knew how stubborn they could be, and she closed her eyes and groaned softly to herself. How was-

Enough, Little One. These thoughts and questions of yours are meaningless. What will happen will happen, regardless of how much you think about it. What happened in the past will always be known as just that. The past. You can't change Garrow's death. Or that we are fugitives from the empire. These events have simply happened, and there is nothing you can do to change it. Arya nodded to herself, a few tears threatening to slip from her eyes as the stress from the past few days caught up with her, and closed her eyes and rolled over.

She was about to try to fall asleep again but was startled awake when she was wrapped up in a scaly tail. Firnen, it seemed, wanted to help soothe his rider's mind, and gently laid her down under the gigantic frame of his body, his wing covering her, protecting her from the cold wind of the night. Managing to shift her body into a more comfortable position, she leaned against the warm, scaly body that was her dragon, closed her eyes, and let sleep take her.

Birds chirping, as well as some sunlight, woke Arya up from her blissful sleep, and when she woke, she was propped up on the forearm of Firnen, with the majority of her body leaning against his. His wings kept out most of the sunlight, but what little light there was cast a glow on the inside of his wings, where Arya was, and after a certain amount of time, it was too bright for her to keep on sleeping.

She stretched her body out like a cat, satisfied to hear the popping of stiff joints and her neck. Sighing blissfully, she allowed herself to melt into the tremendous warmth that was Firnen's belly. Arya knew that her dragon was asleep, due to both his breathing and their bond, and wanted him to get rest. So after she was properly awake, she slid out from his wing and came across Brom, who was sitting on a log with his staff in his hands. Breakfast, or what was left of it, consisted of some bread and some stew that laid in a bowl and on a piece of leather, and Arya immediately sat down and began to eat.

During her meal, she watched Brom as he seemed to be marking areas on the map he brought, and Arya was ready to ask questions when Breakfast was finished.

Wiping off the remnants of her meal that resided on her face, Arya sat the bowl down and turned back to Brom, who was still marking places on the map.

"Where will we go now?" Was Arya's simple question, and Brom stopped what he was doing, and motioned his hand for her to come over towards him. She settled on a log behind the old man and peeked over his shoulder, which was smaller than usual due to him hunching over.

"We… are here." Brom pointed to a spot on the map slightly south of Carvahall "and, from what information I gathered while you slept, the Ra'Zac are traveling the same way. Going past Therinsford and out of the valley of Utgard. From there we will need more leads to know where they are going. If they are heading straight towards the King, here in Uru'baen, then we will have to catch them before they do so. Ten of us could not defeat the king, and we will most likely be caught if we try to kill the Ra'Zac in the capital, especially if they are working for him."

"If they head to Gil'ead, we will most likely also be caught, for that city is a strong military fortress that houses a good amount of the empire's army, and we will also most likely be caught if we chase them inside the city. But it would be easier to catch up to the Ra'Zac if they go to Gil'ead, for the roads are much more in our favor."

"And if they head for Dras-Leona… Well… it would definitely be the longest trip of the three major cities close to Carvahall, and I don't think they would head to any of the smaller cities, for they are not big enough to house and hide the Ra'Zac. Dras-Leona is a terrible city, filled with Slavers and Mercenaries of all sorts, as well as a major strong point for the king, due to its location, but it is the largest of the three, so if they were to hide in one solely due to its size, it would be Dras-Leona, but we have no way of knowing where they are going and why."

Arya, who was taking in all of this information, followed Brom's finger as it pointed to whatever city or location that he was talking about and made mental notes to remember all of these cities. Growing up in Carvahall, she didn't have a single clue to what the rest of Alagaësia was like, and she was amazed at how large Alagaësia was. The few things she knew about her hometown was that it was by the spine, and it was rather small compared to the others, but looking at this map with Brom, blew her away. But she shook her head, ridding her mind of her curious thoughts, for she had a job to do, and Ra'Zac to kill.

"So… we need to find the NRa'Zac's trail, or where they are headed now." At this Brom nodded in approval "And after that, based on what we find, we will be able to learn where they are going, out of those three cities, or if they are going somewhere else. But we will need to be cautious, for if we are caught, they will surely make haste for the empire, with a headstart, so stealth is a priority. We will definitely need code names or disguises of some kind. We don't have many defining character traits, but they most likely know what we look like from the villagers and we can't risk getting caught over something we can easily avoid."

Brom, who hadn't been expecting her to correctly analyze the situation, was proud of the girl. He had been teaching her extensively the few months, and how to interpret a situation was a large part of that training. But she was a young adult, filled with energy, and she often asked more questions than could answer, but this proved she had talent and had actually paid attention.

After their planning session, the pair packed up they could and left the camp.

Afterward, the trio, with Firnen in the skies, made more ground south and passed through the valley of Utgard near the end of their journey. The valley, Arya learned, was where the old leader of the riders was killed by the king, effectively sealing the fate of Alagaësia. Firnen had expressed great sorrow when he learned about Vrael's fate, and his hatred for Galbatorix and anyone associated with him increased tenfold.

When they set up camp, Arya was forced to spar with the old man when he thrust his own sword at the young dragon rider. The attack startled Arya, but she was quickly able to unsheathe her own sword to defend herself.

Sparing with Brom had vastly changed from when he first started training her. For one, they used practice sticks, and most of the training was showing Arya dueling posture and basic attacks and then recreating them in a friendly duel. But now, dueling between the two consisted of all-out warfare between the two, and both rarely pulled back when they struck. And at the end, both were covered in bruises and scratches, with aching muscles and an amused Firnen.

Tonight ended no different, and Arya rolled up next to Firnen and fell asleep.

But before she could, however, she just managed to make out the words Brisingr, and she watched as the campfire was lit before she succumbed to sleep.

Their schedule stayed the same most days as they followed the Ra'Zac's trail along the spine and the small communities that were sprinkled across the northwest part of Alagaësia. They trained almost every night, and Brom often praised her for he unique and creative fighting style.

But the previously uneventful trip got eventful when the trio stopped in Yazuac.

The village had apparently been massacred, and they had to walk through the corpse-riddled streets of the town. Bodies of all ages were scattered around the town like sprinkles on a cake, and the stench was atrocious. A foul odor, accompanied by the sight of maggots eating the corpses, was enough to make Arya vomit into the river that ran through the town.

But upon further investigation, it was discovered rather violently that they were not alone. Urgals were ugly creatures, having horns and greyish skin, along with massive height that towered over most people, and she could see why the king, or anyone for that matter, would want them on their side. And these Urgals were certainty vicious.

The first one Arya came upon was feasting upon a dead body, and when it heard her, it looked up with its yellow, piggish eyes staring at her until it abruptly stood up and began to attack her.

She quickly unsheathed Zar'roc, the red blade glittering in the sunlight, and parried the oncoming sword strike, and pushed the Urgals blade away. It didn't do much, due to the Urgal's strength, and she had to dodge under the next swipe, but she quickly ended the fight when she used her angle to thrust Zar'roc into the belly of the Urgal, causing him to pause with his sword in the air. She immediately pulled the blade out, not wanting to be caught without her sword, and adopted a battle stance Brom had taught her, watching her surroundings while being ready to strike at any time.

Brom, who had been investigating more in the center of the village, heard her yell a battle cry and then he heard the sound of swords clashing and a grunt. And when he came towards the direction of the sounds, he came across the sight of Arya, equipped with Zar'roc, standing in the battle stance he had taught her, with a dead Urgal at her feet.

"What he-" Brom was quickly caught off when he heard a thud behind him, and was barely able to block the oncoming attack and was unable to block the shield strike that knocked him into a nearby alley. The now three Urgals split up, with one chasing Brom down the alleyway and the other pair running after her.

Arya, who was communicating the situation to Firnen, was also trying to simultaneously escape from the arms of two seven-foot Urgals, and was having to zig-zag through houses and alleyways, trying to lose them, for the two of them combined was too much for Arya on her own.

Firnen was on his way, she thought with a sudden feeling of relief, that left as quickly as it came when she missed a step and fell down a hill into the bottom of an alley. The dragon rider found herself equipped only with her bow and a few arrows, and she had lost her sword. There it is! Arya thought to herself, seeing her sword laying a few feet from her, but she had to quickly back up away from it when the Urgals came down the hill, both equipped with swords.

Notching an arrow while she crept away from the two, she released it with the hope that it would kill at least one of them, but she was filled with a sense of dread when the arrow only clipped the horn of one of the Urgals. She backed up until she couldn't anymore, for she was at the river's edge, and she quickly notched and released another arrow, this time near the stomach, but that arrow was also caught, only this time by the other's shield.

Narrowing her eyes in exasperation, she went to grab another but was unnerved when she only found one left, but before she could shoot it Brom reappeared with blood on his head and a bloodied sword and swung it wildly, shouting obscenely, trying to get the Urgals attention.

It worked, and Arya was able to get Zar'roc but Brom had led the Urgals away from the alley entirely, and she had to sprint back up the hill and onto the street to find them. And when she did, she found Brom weakly holding up his sword while one Urgal clobbered down on it while the other was laying on the ground dead. Arya imagined the dread she would feel if Brom died, and her body felt like it was going to burst. A pleasant feeling radiated from her chest and after a few seconds, in which the Urgal was still attacking Brom, she was overwhelmed with the feeling and needed to release this random energy. Not wanting her mentor to die and also not knowing what she was doing, she notched the arrow and breathed in once, then twice, then muttered the words Brisingr and watched as her arrow hit its mark and combust the Urgal in a burst of blue flame. Arya, who had no clue what she just did, stumbled against the building and just made out the figure of Brom and then surprisingly Firnen before she collapsed to sleep.

*page break*

A dull throbbing that originated from almost her entire body awaited Arya when her eyes cracked open, and she winced when she tried to lift herself from where she was laying on the ground. What the hell. Arya thought to herself. She had never felt this exhausted and this sore anytime in her life. The closest she had ever been was when her uncle had forced her to farm and clean an entire day. She didn't know what she had done when she had muttered those faithful words, but it felt right in the moment. The energy in her body at that moment felt overwhelming and apparently, she thought saying those words would release it. It did but it also drained her, making her famished and exhausted.

"I see you are awake." She cracked her eyes open again and slowly tilted her head to the left, where she saw Brom sitting on a stump near a campfire with his staff in hand.

"What… happened after?" The words came out slowly but when she finished, Brom looked back to her from the staff in his hands.

"You used magic. A lot, granted, but you used magic to set that arrow on fire, and that arrow killed the Urgal." He sighed, dejected, and looked back to his staff, then back to her. "I didn't want to tell you this, especially this early in your time as a rider, but I can do magic, using the ancient language, which originates from where we all lived before we came here, to Alagaësia, and once everyone used it, but now only magicians as well as supposedly the elves use it. It encompasses the true word of everything, and the word you used was the word for fire, Brisingr. Magic takes a lot of energy out of you, but the more you use the more you can perform, like a muscle. The more words you know, the more magic you can perform, but everyone has their limits. And if you try to perform magic outside of that limit, you will die. Also, you cannot lie in the ancient language, but you can word the words to omit truths. In a way, the ancient language is the true name of whatever you say. For example, sverd is the true name for a sword."

Arya, who was now blown away at the knowledge of the ancient language, was rapidly processing what she had just learned, was bursting with curiosity.

"Who ma-"

"No. You used a simple spell, yes, but you used a lot of energy. Most people when they start using magic, do it in a very small amount, supervised, and on lots of rest. You used a moderate amount and in the middle of a battle, you need to eat food, then rest."

Arya, who was a bit down at no being able to satisfy her curiosity about the ancient language, nodded and closed her eyes, and went to sleep.