"The truth about being a rider", thought Eragon, "Is that we are forged by our circumstance". The wind blew gently through the window of the keep, following his unsteady, yet smooth gait as though even Mother Nature was keeping a watchful eye on the Rider. His bare feet made nary a whisper on the dark stone he strode across, not did his breeches or tunic rustle around his body. If one closed their eyes, his presence would have been nonexistent. However, it was a moot point. The keep was home only to himself and his elvish companions.
Eragon felt his life partner a few miles out from the keep, hunting her breakfast. Saphira, he thought, had grown beautifully in the last few years since they had left home. Her azure scales shone with unrivaled sheen, even in the pitch black, he could see the glint of blue reflecting off her scales. He could feel her pleasure through their link at his thoughts, and his grin spread across his face.
His feet carried him down hallways and stairs, to the bottom floor of the keep, and into an unassuming kitchen. The fire was burning merrily in the fireplace on the far wall, a pot boiling above the flames. Eragon approached the hearth, retrieving a cup from the mantle, and a handful of leaves from the pot beside the cups. He dipped the cup into the pot, and crumbled his leaves into the water, setting the cup back on the mantle to steep. He waited patiently for his tea to steep, before he took it out the other door in the kitchen, an out side door that led down a set of stairs to an almost endless lawn.
Trees and plants dotted the surrounding area, but flat ground and dark green grass were predominant in the center. Eragon sat on the steps and pulled out the small book from his tunic. He leaned against the railing and began to read, studying yet another subject that had struck his fancy. The soft sound of wind in the leaves and birds calling to each other played softly in the background. When Eragon finished his tea, he closed the book and put it back in his tunic pocket. He gained his feet gently, stepping out onto the grass, and began his morning stroll around their home. When he reached the edge of what he considered their territory, he turned and followed the edge around the keep.
The keep was enormous, carved from the side of the only mountain for leagues. There was no attempt to hide it. No wall was built, no visible defenses. One massive door on all four sides of the mountain, and countless large windows and cavernous entrances. The dark stone, when chiseled out of the way, had actually revealed a beautiful silver-grey, that reflected light well. Eragon was still in debate with Blodgharm about whether to polish the walls or let it remain rough. At night, when the fires were lit and the flameless lanterns were unshuttered, the near empty keep shone in a beautiful way. One day, Eragon supposed, it may echo with the life of the order he had been tasked to rebuild.
As Eragon continued his walk, he began to sing songs of protection and happiness, channeling bits of his energy into the spells. From the first day the Mountain had come into view of the Talita, when Eragon and Saphira decided that this was to be their home, Eragon had walked the perimeter of their new home, weaving small weak spells of protection. Five years of small weak spells of protection and care had built upon themselves to be nigh impenetrable barriers. Still now Eragon cast them every day, adding protection.
"How go your studies of metal, little one?", asked Saphira in his head, a tone of amusement present. He gave a mental nudge her direction, never ceasing his song. It had become their game to learn to communicate without ceasing outward activities. It had started as a game, that is. They soon found that it made their wits sharper. "I find it a very intriguing subject, this is true, but I feel in this subject, it would be helpful to have a tutor. Perhaps I should scry with Orik and request he send someone to educate me on our clan's in depth knowledge of metals and forging methods." Saphira hummed in his head, sending only a picture of a gnarled weathered face back in response, as she was in the middle of a corkscrew. "Perhaps she would deign to educate you?" Eragon sent back a run of mixed emotions. He did not want to slight his clan, but they couldn't afford to slight Rhunön, either.
Eragon thought at length, keeping his connection open to his life partner, and his voice and feet on the right path. As he came full circle around the keep, he also came to a decision. Reaching back out fully to Saphira, he informed her of his decision. "I shall scry Orik, as he is easily reachable, and send a letter to Rhunon, as the wards around Ellesmera will not bend for anyone. This way I may start my education as soon as possible. Besides, with my other project, I could use a knowledgeable stone worker as well. Maybe Orik knows of a dwarf proficient in both areas." Saphira sent affirmative feelings his way. "You should also send a letter to Queen Arya, informing her that we have settled and where." Eragon stumbled before catching himself. Saphira's voice was very blasé, doing her best to come off indifferent, withholding her personal feelings. It still put him in a darker mood, as he stopped by the stairs leading to the kitchen. He sent only the faintest feeling of agreement, before closing most of himself off from her.
Eragon topped the stairs, making his way back into the kitchen, scouring the cup that held his tea clean with magic, and placing back on to the mantle. He stepped back into the corridor, following a well worn path back to his study. Murmuring a few words at a blank stretch of wall, it faded, revealing a room rich in dark wood and sunlight. The windows were protected with the same spell that Eragon had encountered in Helgrind. The room had no visible walls, save for the fireplace on the east wall, and the large stack of wood beside it. The rest of the walls were bookcases, built around the windows on the north wall, even the secret door he had entered from. Directly in front of the north wall was a large desk, with papers stacked neatly to the side, and a small mirror in the other corner. Where there weren't books on the shelf, there were a variety of objects; a dazzling blue sword upon a stand, a scroll in a decorated wooden box, two large glowing stones upon velvet bags, and an elvish sung bow, and several hand bound books kept separate from the others. The stones glowed white and gold, respectively.
Eragon sat behind the desk, propping his head on his hands, staring into the mirror, thinking. He knew if he requested Blodgharm to have letters ran to Ellesmera, he would do it. It would likely take months to reach there on foot, even for the fleet-footed elves. Pondering on the dilemma, he opened a drawer, pulling forth parchment and a quill, and began composing his letters. His letter to Rhunon was blunt, not the political letter he knew he would be forced to compose next.
Rhunon-elda,
The elves and I have settled some four hundred leagues from Hedarth, down the Az Ragni. I have recently been studying the art of smithing, and am in search of a tutor. I am reaching out to King Orik, of the dwarves, requesting he send me a tutor learned both in metallurgy and stonework to begin teaching me the skills necessary to excel. I would have preferred to travel back to Ellesmera to seek an apprenticeship with you, however my duties would never permit it. If you have any advice or anything you would like to speak with me about, you can scry me or send a letter to me through another elf. Arya Drotting will know where to send it.
Regards,
Eragon Bromsson
Eragon laid down his quill, setting the parchment to the side to dry, staring at the other blank parchment in front of him. Feelings of dread and hopelessness wrestled inside of him. He felt Saphira draw further from him slightly, avoiding his thoughts.
Arya Drottning,
It pleases me to inform you that Saphira and our companions have found a safe place to fulfill our duties. Enclosed within this letter is a token that is enchanted to direct the holder to the chosen meeting place for new riders to come to me, located but a few leagues past Alegaesia's civilized border. The other token enclosed is for you and Murtagh only, given in the highest confidence. Only you will be able to make use of it, for it shows the way to our new home by dragon back. It would please me greatly if you will ensure Murtagh receives this. The last item enclosed is a letter for Rhunön-elda, and it is my hope that it finds her with the necessary speed.
May your reign be peaceful and prosperous,
Eragon Bromsson, Lead Rider
Eragon put away his quill and ink, unclenching his fingers from the edge of the desk. He could feel waves of pride coming from his life partner, and his lip twitched, if barely. It gave him no joy to dwell on thoughts of Arya, for fate had separated them by a nigh insurmountable barrier. Only time would clarify how it would end, or if it would even begin. Dwelling brought nothing but bittersweet pain and a longing that was hard to conquer.
Eragon's gaze drifted to the mirror on his desk. He sat up in his chair, leaning towards the mirror, and breached the magic in his mind. He bothered not to speak any incantation, focusing only upon opening a scrying connection with the Dwarf king. He felt a sense of satisfaction at the feat; his mental fortitude training was improving his abilities in leaps and bounds. A dwarf in black and gold robes was in the room conversing with a dwarf woman. Eragon cleared his throat softly, drawing their attention. "Hvedra, could you let Orik Konungr know that I would like a word if he has the time for it." The dwarven woman smiled at him. "I don't recommend calling him by that title, Shadeslayer. You know how my husband takes that from you." Eragon couldn't help but grin. "Why that's what makes it so fun, my lady." She smiled back at him, before leaving the room.
Minutes later, a dwarf entered the room, clad in chainmail, and a war hammer in his hands, he smiled at the mirror, approaching swiftly. "Eragon, mine brother, it is good to see your face!" Orik exclaimed, clasping a fist over his heart. Eragon grinned, and decided to bypass the game they typically played, trading greater and more ridiculous titles back and forth until they found themselves at a stalemate. "My brother, it is good to see you as well." Orik shifted himself slightly, settling into a chair. "What can I help you with, my friend? For you to pass up our normal game it must be rather pressing." Eragon smiled, before replying "I fear my reason for contact is selfish, brother. My endless curiosity has put me in need of a mentor that only a skilled dwarf can possibly fill." Orik's bushy eyebrows rose. "Tell me what you require, Eragon, and if it is within my abilities, it will be yours."
"I find myself in need of a dwarf skilled in the art of forging and stonework." Orik grinned. "You are a dwarf after all, stone head." He sat back in his chair, rubbing his beard with his hand. "Of course, brother, I shall send someone suitable to teach you that which any dwarf should know, and maybe some brothers to be of assistance. With the elves present, it seems only fair that a few of your blood be there as well. If you would offer them hearth, they will come to support you." Eragon only thought on it for a few minutes, before he agreed. "This seems more than fair, and extra hands are welcome. I appreciate this, brother." After they hashed out all the details, Eragon closed the scrying session.
Eragon leaned back into his chair, staring unfocused at the bookshelves. Thinking on his dwarven brother brought a smile to his face. They had remained in close contact, shield mates that they had been. It did Eragon good to see a friendly face. Not, he thought to himself, that the elves were unfriendly. They kept to themselves most of the time. Of course, Eragon also preferred his privacy. Maybe it wasn't all the fault of the elves. He smiled to himself, but if anyone had been there to see it, they would have claimed it was a grimace.
Eragon's attention was quickly drawn to the mirror, as it began to shimmer. The mirror eventually faded to reveal the face of his cousin. Every time he saw him, he seemed to age drastically. Maybe it was time, or maybe it was raising his children along with all of his other responsibilities. Eragon felt a pang if loneliness, once more wishing he could be home, among the only family he had left. Saphira quickly soothed his soul, embracing him mentally.
Roran smiled at him, dipping his head, not in a bow, but an acknowledgment of brotherhood. Eragon sat up in his chair, smiling back at his cousin. "Roran, my cousin, how fares life in the valley?" Roran grinned knowingly at him. "In the valley, life is grand, under my roof, however, it has moments of hell." Roran a reply was promptly followed by a loud crashing, making both cousins flinch. They both heard muffled screaming, that which could only be Katrina, berating a child. Eragon grinned. "At least they keep life interesting, eh?" Roran and Eragon conversed back and forth, trading stories of their current escapades, until Eragon was hit with a realization. "Roran, could you get a messenger to Ellesmera for me?" Roran thought it over for a minute. "I couldn't send a messenger, however, there is an elf that comes through town on his way to Illirea, trading messages back and forth, no doubt. He goes by the name of Vanir. He passed through but two weeks ago to Illirea, and should be back through in three weeks or so." Eragon quickly responded, thinking fast. "I have need to send you a package through magic, to be sent by Vanir to the Elven Queen. It would take months for an elf to deliver it from here, and the wards of the forest will prevent me from sending it directly. Is this agreeable?" Roran nodded quickly. "You need not even ask, cousin."
"I will send this package tonight, to the farm. It will be easier for you to find it if I am off by a few hundred yards or so." Roran nodded again. "I will receive it myself, Eragon." Eragon gave him a genuine smile. "The help is much appreciated, Roran. This package must be protected well, but it is too important to not be sent." Roran waved him off, and they cut the connection.