Chapter 3
It has been a long time since Arya last traveled out of the safety of Du Weldenvarden, leaving behind the comfort of the place sizzling with magic. She was the queen of the elves, and that meant she had little time for herself, and almost no time to rest, even if her race didn't need much.
She is going to Gil'ead by dragonback, and Fírnen was curious about the world of men. He didn't see a lot of them, because he hatched just a few months before Eragon and Saphira left for Arngor Mountain. They were gliding among the clouds, relaxing and basking in the morning sun. Winter had just ended, but Arya still needed extra clothes. Using magic for maintaining body heat is impractical, anyway. The only thing that worried her were the rumors of hostility toward the elves around Lake Isentar and Ninor River. Separation alienates, after all, and what you do not see you do not know. Men are afraid of the unknown, and fear causes violence.
Something on your mind, Arya?
She is not startled by Fírnen's deep voice, but she stops to think of her answer.
...Yes.
Eloquent enough.
Is it Eragon again, or is there something else this time?
No. I'm just thinking about the contract we will sign. I have not yet met the new queen, but I am wary about King Darrin. He is as prideful as his grandfather, and I fear Surda is getting greedy again. Eragon still worms his way to my thoughts every few minutes, but you have known that for a long time.
That does not mean I should deprive you of the joy you feel when talking about him.
Now you're just teasing.
What if I am? It doesn't mean it isn't true. We may complete each other, but you and Eragon have the potential to complete each other in a different way. Saphira and I were mates, but we didn't spend enough time together to see if we truly are soulmates. I have a feeling this kind of magic bled over from dragons to their Riders. It certainly wouldn't be the first time.
Thank you, Fírnen.
Always.
Arya let herself relax even more into her saddle, distracted. At least until Fírnen sent a warning mental nudge to her.
This time she was startled.
What is it, Fírnen? What's happening?
Open your mind.
She immediately lowered her barriers enough to get a feel of what's going on in the nearby area, and she sensed a group of very agitated villagers near Lake Isentar.
Well, this isn't a very time-consuming detour. Let's see what's going on.
She instructed Fírnen to alter their flight path slightly to the right. They should be there in about half an hour. The edge of Du Weldenvarden is near.
Toothless was worried. Hiccup wanted to spend the night somewhere populated by humans, to 'learn about the society of this world'. He supposed it was the chieftain in him that was curious, but Hiccup did not yet master protecting his mind, or communicating with more than a hundred meters in distance. Hopefully he won't meet any spellcasters. It's only one night, anyway. And besides, he still had a full bucket of fish that Hiccup caught him in the Ninor River.
Distress. Alarm. Fear. Danger. Hiccup is in danger. He only got those few sensations before he felt a sharp pain in Hiccup's head, and then... nothing. They knocked him unconscious! How dare they?
What did Hiccup do anyway? He is a sarcastic little twerp sometimes, but not enough to offend someone that seriously, is he?
All Toothless had was a vague sense of direction where Hiccup went, and his scent. He followed it on the ground until he reached the village. He didn't pay much attention to it in his past life, but he read the name in runes he hadn't seen in nearly eighty years.
Daret.
He jumped on a rooftop, barely even making a sound. Where would they keep a person who they knocked out? Is there a prison here of some sorts?
No matter. He was livid and thinking less clearly by the second. He would knock a few houses down, but he would not kill anyone, except if one of their lives was on the line, and then he would find his Rider.
For Hiccup.
He reviewed some of the last memories and sensations he could have glimpsed from his human, and decided he would indeed wait one night to attack.
Morgan was closing his inn later than usual. That Haddock person was really giving him the creeps, whether he admits it or not. He didn't feel safe last night after they bound the man with ropes, in spite of evidence in the contrary. There is no way he could free himself, but he kept going on about giving the dragons and the elves a chance. Ha, like he could actually know. They weren't seen for over fifty years in these parts, and no sane man trusted the rumors from them southerners. Dragon eggs indeed. And he was a Shade. Hah!
He was polishing his last glass when he thought he heard a faint screech. He dismissed it, but it kept getting louder and louder until...
He felt it, rather than heard it. The very ground seemed to shake, and when he looked out the window he could only watch as the Mayor's workplace was being engulfed in a blazing inferno. People were going out on the streets, against all common sense. The screech seemed to repeat, until he remembered what Haddock was talking about.
Erik seemed to be having the same idea, but was unfortunately much more superstitious than Morgan.
"It's the Night Fury!" he shouted.
Whatever it was there was a fireball incoming! "Get down!"
Morgan's inn was the next house to go down. And then he saw it, a black silhouette against the fire, blending with the night, whizzing past the buildings with unbelievable speed. And that Haddock guy had the nerve to tell them what an amazing friend he has. Bah!
"Does anyone 'ave arrows?", someone yelled.
That god-awful blood-curdling screech.
The watchtower went down, and the fireball seemed to spread blue shock waves into the night sky.
And then...
Silence.
Everybody is out on the streets, warily watching the sky.
"Any of you idiots think of WATER?", Morgan's daughter, Ninor, shouts. That gets everyone moving.
"Y-yeah, everybody, get some buckets, form a line! The river isn't that far!", the Mayor continues.
No one will forget the Night Fury any time soon, but only one person listened to the full story of dragons, the dragon riders and the island of Berk. Ninor's head was still spinning with the stories of the crazy, cute and overprotective Toothless, of Hiccup's amazing wife and family and the story of Viggo Grimborn and his redemption. Is she the only one in this bloody little town with an open mind? Well, after her grandma, of course, but everyone declared her a crazy old bat. No, her only chance was to keep her mouth shut until she gets a chance to travel Alagaësia before she settles somewhere and gets married. She would visit, of course... Well, probably. She hoped she would see Hiccup and his dragon again, even if they act a bit irrationally when in distress.
Hiccup had a habit of frequently calling himself idiot, but it was snuffed out by Astrid's love and support. She is the reason he walks with his chin up and his shoulders straight. Well, right now he and Toothless were both idiots: Hiccup for trying to be dramatic at the wrong moment and with the wrong crowd, and Toothless for, well, almost leveling a village. He couldn't really blame his dragon for losing control over his emotions, not with what he must have been through. This land was bringing back all his repressed memories, and he had little time to make peace with them, if at all.
It was almost fun to hear people shout 'Night Fury! Get down!' once again.
Almost.
But this is a new world, and Hiccup didn't want people to fear dragons, and he might have made a mistake that could cost him a lifetime's work.
Idiot.
We both are. I'm sorry for losing control. I should have known better, but when I saw those guards in front of the only entrance...
Hiccup took his dragon's head in his arms. Hey now, bud. All those years with the mad king must have left some impact. It's not an excuse, but it is something to consider. I saw that look you get every once in a while. We'll manage. Somehow. We've been through worse.
Yeah... we really have. And we were idiots even then.
You're my best friend, bud, idiots or not.
You too, Hiccy! Let's go find that egg.
Hiccy?
Got something against it?
As a matter of fact, yes, I do.
Too bad.
Toothless...
Hiccy...
Oh come on, really?
Aaaanyway, which way should we go first?
I have no idea, you're the native.
Toothless whacks him with the tip of his tail, careful about his prosthetic part. Well, the Spine is always a good place to start looking. I can train you while we're at it! The circle is now complete. When we were on Berk, I was but an apprentice. Now, I am the master!
Where did that come from?
I have absolutely no idea.
Oh, this is going to be easy.
Don't worry, Hiccy. This is where the fun begins!
They were currently going north. Hiccup was aiming to visit the traders who were traveling out of Palancar Valley to the south, if he got it right. Toothless told him he once heard of a beautiful waterfall of the Anora River in the Spine nearby Carvahall. The surroundings weren't much to look at, if you don't count Toothless the Goof rolling around in small patches of dragon-nip. That gave Hiccup time to work on his leg (he got the idea after meeting someone who invented a similar knife, which he later found to become famous), and a new version of Inferno. He made Toothless' rigs more times than he can count, so that is something to worry about later.
Murtagh wasn't sulking. He had a spat with Thorn and he was just in... a bit of a bad mood. Who could blame him for that, anyway? The trees and the endless snow? Yes, alright, they went too far north again, and he hadn't been paying attention to where they are, but how could he know his dragon could fly while asleep?
Bah, he'll come around. He always did. After the bloody dragon stopped sulking.
I'm sorry, alright?
He received no answer. He probably wouldn't for a few more days. He knew; after all, it wasn't the first time they fought. Anyway, he didn't need Thorn to keep him warm, even if he did make that particular detail a lot easier...
Where is this land that the dragons originated from, anyway, and where did Thorn get that idea into his head? And how would they find it? They were looking for two years now, and all they did was get lost in places that got increasingly interesting. Well, at least he learned a few fun survival tricks from a cave-dwelling tribe for which he did not need to use magic. And he had all the snow covered evergreen trees for target practice. Throwing what? Snowballs? Eragon would probably have a witty comment about that.
He could scry a few villages to see if they had some games going on, if it was that time of the year. Yeah. Daret, for example. For a place with that bloody a history, it sure recovered. Remarkable, men are. Short memories and even shorter tempers.
That thought made him laugh. Wasn't he a right hypocrite right now?
"Draumr kópa", he murmured, and he would have fallen on his ass from shock if he wasn't already sitting down. The village looked alright, but several buildings were burnt to the ground. If it was one, he wouldn't be suspicious, someone could have dropped a candle or something, the houses were wooden, after all. But this? This looked like dragon fire. And all the other riders were prancing around, exploring off to the east, or cooped up in Du Weldenvarden with miss Princess, Queen, whatever she was now. And Eragon was, again, nowhere to be found.
Was it time for him and Thorn to return? They were off gallivanting around for a hundred years, give or take, after all.
He could think about it later. For example, when his bloody dragon returned.
Pining over Eragon is usually the worst time of Arya's days, so she really doesn't have much to complain about. When one is immortal, days can become insignificant, even with spending them with a partner-of-heart-and-soul, like her Fírnen. There is a downside, and elves have suffered gravely for that mistake, and for someone like the Queen of the Elves it is a very bad idea to ignore that it exists. When elves become disconnected and ignorant of the events going on in Alagaësia in exchange for their forest, one can overlook the fact that some men have bloody short memories and have bloody FORGOTTEN WHAT THE DRAGONS HAVE DONE FOR THEM! Never mind the hundreds of eggs circulating the area west and south of the Hadarac Desert, dragons are suddenly once again unwelcome and worthy of fear.
"So tell me, Mayor, if Fírnen wanted to eat you, wouldn't he have done it by now?", she asks, her voice calm and her face blank.
She rarely resorts to reading minds of unsuspecting humans, but the Mayor's stuttering is really time consuming, and the broadcasting of aggressive feelings of the crowd and the distress of an individual is increasing by the second.
Is that... an elf? Weak and bound to a pole? And the Mayor is ignoring it? Or allowing it? The Queen of Elves barely repressed a fierce glare, energy cracking at her fingertips, just asking to be used for magic...
This is almost the closest she ever came to losing her temper. It's not about the power controlling you, but making a conscious choice to let it. It's not giving in to her anger either, but when people with a lot of energy lose their temper it tends to be destructive, but not out of any wish to do foul things. More often than not it doesn't even really matter, because she is usually calm enough by the time she would get to a place where she is free to lose her temper in earnest. It's a waste of energy anyway; energy she could be using on blasting the crowd to tiny. Little. Bloody. Mangled. Pieces.
She felt Fírnen's soothing presence push itself from the back of her mind. Now you're just working yourself up, Arya.
You're right. Sorry.
I mean, feel free to lash out, but don't restrain yourself because 'it's unbecoming of an Elf Queen'.
Now you're teasing.
Yes, I am. You have learned that lesson. Do you want me to get her?
Her!? Oh, this day is getting better and better. You know what? I'm really really tempted to take that offer right now.
Haven't you noticed she doesn't know how to protect her mind? She's bound to make something explode soon.
You're right. She was... fairly organized, but now she's disoriented and scared and... is that energy gathering around her? Does she even realize she is doing that? It's dangerous!
I told you.
She pushes her way past the Mayor into the street and follows the sounds her keen pointed ears pick up, and not soon enough, she finds the mob.
She magically enhances the loudness of her voice: "Everyone get away!"
The crowd stops for a second, but doesn't continue to pay any attention after that.
Fírnen!
The bellowing dragon's roar silences them. "Get away, it's dangerous! You don't know what you're doing!", she shouts.
Fírnen roars again; that gets them moving, but something's wrong-
She is able to throw a quick shield against the debris flying in all directions, but it does nothing about the shockwave which throws people, including her, all over the streets and the roofs. Her wards protect her from getting her spine broken against the edge, but some of those people will have earned broken bones at the least.
She runs toward the unlucky elf examines the Mayor's mind once again, this time more thoroughly.
Bloody hell.
They found an elf and decided to turn her over to the crowd for some 'crimes' without a second thought... And this city holds an unhealthy grudge toward magic because the founders fought on the losing side in the war. Is this where the elves started becoming enemies to men?
She rushed to the elf's side. She was trying to tell Arya something, her mouth opening and closing, but no voice coming out.
She is about to pass out from exhaustion.
"Ru... Run, my Lady", she barely whispers, and goes completely limp.
And then Arya realized her mistakes. She just interfered with these men's misplaced justice on behalf of one of her own, and are now more than likely be even more hostile and blame her for the explosion. She felt no loss of life, but that is all she could sense without lowering the defenses around her mind. She had to get out of here because those people's minds were made up.
Before they can blink she throws the elven girl's body into the air, where it gets snatched by a great green dragon, and Arya jumps to a rooftop and onto Fírnen's back, careful not to impale herself on any of the spikes. She can reminisce how and why age doesn't mean wisdom later.
How many times have you said that exact sentence and still didn't do anything about it?
Sometimes she doesn't know if that nasty little voice in her head is Fírnen's or her own.
Oh, it was mine this time, but you do get very confusing every so often. I even hear your nasty little voice inside my head.
Shut it.
I don't open my mouth to speak.
Quiet.
Nor do I make a sound.
Ugh.
Yes, and here is an example of a completely dignified elf queen. Mighty and proper, not to mention blank-faced and polite.
I'm not even going to answer that.
You just did.
Ugh.
Whatever she may say now or later, Fírnen did bring her mood back up, if only a little bit.
They landed on a grassy plain nearby, with Arya almost absentmindedly casting a spell to scare off any possible little bugs or ticks. She can now only take care of the girl until she wakes up. Now that it isn't covered in dirt and dust, Arya can see her hair is blonde. Her figure is delicate, but strong. Her ears are just barely pointed. Like Eragon's. Another hybrid? If so, how did that happen? Most magic users would have felt that event, if it wasn't hidden. She briefly wondered what the girl's name was.
Astrid started waking up. Which was weird, because she was fairly sure she felt her life leaving her. Her aches and pains were also absent, and she felt better than ever before. She also felt... more. She did have quite a large vocabulary, but she couldn't name that feeling or remember any time she was so... hyper-aware of her surroundings, even with her eyes closed. She felt her hair being ruffled by a gentle wind, she heard the grass shuffle around. Her head was supported by what felt like an uneven bundle of clothes, and she could smell cooking. Someone who walked softly, too softly, was going toward her, and she almost reflexively reacted violently, but this could also be the person who saved her from those villagers. And so she waited.
"You are awake. You have been out for a couple of days. You should eat.", the person, no, lady, said.
Astrid opened her eyes and saw a beautiful woman with midnight-black hair, looking down on her with emerald green eyes. She accepted the meal without complaint.
She discreetly marveled at her smooth arms and delicate fingers, as if she used to play an instrument instead of waving her axe around. Where was her axe, anyway?
"Can I ask you your name? I am Arya. It's nice to meet you", the lady said. She sounded awkward, as if she isn't at all used to conversation. Well, Astrid wouldn't want to make this situation even more uncomfortable.
"It's nice to meet you too. My name is Astrid."