Answers to reviews:
Skumi: I already had ten of these written and ready after the first chapter had been posted.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything but the OC.
While Eragon and Brom went off to the town called Therinsford, Saphira and Ancalagon spent time together flying over the valley. Saphira taught Ancalagon what she instinctively knew about flying, as well as a few tricks that she had developed, such as giving their tails a subtle twist to provide better aerodynamics. Ancalagon learned quickly, and soon was following Saphira through aerial stunts in the air, matching her move for move.
Right now, they landed by a stream for a rest after a particularly tiring set of tricks.
You...learn fast, Saphira told Ancalagon wearily, her exhaustion evident in her voice.
Well, I have an excellent teacher. The silver dragon replied.
Aww, you're sweet, Saphira said, nuzzling her neck against Ancalagon's. She moved away and craned her neck down to drink from the stream.
Ancalagon stared wide-eyed at her. Okay, that's like the second time she's done that. Was that what I think it was? he asked himself. If the stories he'd read about dragon relationships on the fanfiction site were correct, that was a sign of affection. That meant that she liked him, which was too much for Ancalagon to handle. After all, he was still a human at heart, despite his new body's rather convincing arguments.
Shouldn't we be getting back to camp? He asked, trying to change the subject.
Don't you want to hunt? Saphira asked, wanting to just spend more time with him before they have to go back.
Ancalagon paused, considering it, then he nodded. Sure.
Well, I'm refreshed, do you need a drink? Saphira nodded her head towards the stream beside her.
Uhhh, no..no I'm fine, Ancalagon stuttered. If dragons could blush, he'd have been beet red at that moment. It seemed as though she was trying to get closer to him.
Ok, let's go, she said suddenly, launching into the air with a powerful leap of her hind legs. Ancalagon took off after her and several seconds later, the two dragons were searching the forest below for a target.
Ancalagon's eyes snapped onto a buck bounding through the brush below, breaking through brittle branches to bury itself in the brambles behind a bush. He dove between the trees to chase the evasive prey. The buck panicked and tried to veer left to avoid Ancalagon's reaching claws, but to no avail. Piercing white talons punctured the buck's side, and warm blood flowed over Ancalagon's silver scales. He brought his head down in a vicious arc towards the prey's neck, tearing a large piece of flesh out with his teeth. It was exhilarating, to say the least. He placed down his catch, and began to devour it, bones and all.
Saphira landed nearby with her own prey, a doe. Well done, she said.
Ancalagon spat out a hoof. Thank you.
They finished their meals there, washed the sticky bloodstains off their scales in the stream, and then lounged in a nearby glen beside a calm pond. They talked for hours about nothing in particular. Saphira spoke of her early days after she hatched for Eragon, and their subsequent adventures before they found Ancalagon that day in the woods.
Ancalagon knew all of this, but listened anyway. He wished that he could tell her of his past, if only he had one that could compare with hers. They relaxed in the glen, forelimbs in the cool water, simply enjoying each others' company.
The sun had sunk low in the sky, painting the clouds with the hues of an early sunset, when they heard the mental call home from Eragon. They took to the skies and returned to the camp.
Brom and Eragon were waiting for them when Saphira and Ancalagon landed side by side. Brom gave the golden dragon a harsh look while Saphira was conversing with Eragon, then plastered on a fake smile when the dragoness turned towards Ancalagon and Brom.
So, Saphira asked Brom, what did you discover? Were the Ra'zac spotted anywhere near here?
"The guard at the front gate said that he saw two dark shapes flying through the air the night before last, but no sign of anything since then."
It isn't much to go on, is it? Saphira said, head drooping.
"At least it's something, Saphira, and something is better than nothing." Eragon said, "So cheer up, we'll catch up to them." She hummed at his attempts to cheer her up.
You are only heading towards death if you pursue the Raz'ac. Ancalagon said seriously. He had to stop this pointless chase before the incident outside Dras Leona that would end in Brom's death. As much as he disliked the old man, he simply couldn't let Eragon's father and mentor die.
"Really, and why would you say that, oh wise dragon?" Brom said sarcastically.
Ancalagon's gaze snapped to him. Just a feeling. Do not pursue them or it will end in one of you dying.
"Well, unless you can give me a reason, we're going to continue following them until we find their lair." Brom said, crossing his arms and almost daring Ancalagon to come up with an excuse for them not to go.
Ancalagon growled in frustration. On your own life be it then. He said before he walked away towards his usual sleeping spot.
"Brom, what if he's right? I can't risk losing you!" Eragon blurted out.
"Eragon, relax. The words of some half-witted, unskilled silver dragon are not enough to scare me. I mean, first he's coincidentally near your farm, now he's a seer? Please." Brom said skeptically.
Their argument faded as Ancalagon tuned them out. It was pointless. Brom was what he had always called Eragon: one part brave, three parts fool. He would just have to try to alter events when they played out.
Ancalagon, lost in his musings about the future, almost stumbled over Saphira, who was laying under the old oak, next to Ancalagon's spot.
Saphira? Don't you want to rest next to Eragon? Ancalagon inquired, tilting his head quizzically.
I have done so for months, let me rest with you. He can get along without me for a night. Saphira looked up at him, sapphire eyes almost pleading.
Argh, he couldn't say no to that face.
Very well, if you wish to slumber together, who am I to deny you? He sunk down beside her and lowered his chin to rest upon his forearms. Saphira inched closer, resting against his side.
Oh geez... this is getting complicated, he thought to himself.
Early the next morning, Ancalagon was surprisingly the first to wake up. He blinked his eyes groggily in an attempt to clear his vision. He looked sideways at Saphira to find with surprise that his wing was draped over her side. With wide eyes, he slowly eased the wing off of her back, noting with regret that she began to shiver in the absence of his wing's insulation.
Ah hell, he thought in resignation. He gently moved his wing back over Saphira, whose shivering ceased. The blue dragoness nuzzled Ancalagon's wing in her sleep. This isn't so bad, Ancalagon thought, as he slipped back to sleep, there are worse fates.
The dawn arrived in an unusual blaze of blood-red clouds. Feathery bands of white, red-tinged vapor drifted in the heavens, reflecting the strangely eerie light of the rising sun. Ancalagon awoke as the sun rose in the heavens, rising carefully from Saphira's side as not to wake her, and padded over to the center of the clearing. He launched himself into the air and soared over the forest, searching for prey.
Ancalagon soon spotted a deer bounding through the forest. Swooping down upon the unsuspecting doe, he speared it with his claws and plunged his head down to rip its throat apart, ending the prey's suffering. As he dined on the creature's flesh, his thoughts turned to his former life.
When he had been yanked from his world and into Alagaësia, he had left behind people who would wonder where he had gone. His friends, his family. They would look for him, of course, perhaps finding empty clothes on the cold sidewalk; an iTouch laying on the ground, screen cracked, reflecting the sky above. They would mourn for his disappearance, but in time, would move on, carrying a burden in their hearts. His brother would likely finish the book that they had been planning, dedicating the work to Michael, who had inspired it.
Ancalagon felt a sudden pang of loneliness and homesickness.
He stayed there for half an hour, eating his food, then he decided to get back to camp... but not before he went after a buck that had stumbled upon him.
Saphira woke, immediately noticing the absence of Ancalagon's warm body. She raised her head to look around for the golden dragon. Not finding him, Saphira rose to her feet, stretched, and yawned. Ancalagon must have gone hunting. She turned to the two bundles where the humans slept.
The rising red sun had painted the sky an unusual crimson hue, the red colors dulled by Saphira's color-selective vision. Clouds dotted the horizon, looking like so many airborne rubies. The sun's red light was cast across the campsite in bright scarlet bands, interrupted at intervals by long shadows cast by the tall trees.
Saphira then turned to her sleeping Rider. It's time to wake up, Eragon.
"Already?" Eragon mumbled groggily, rubbing his eyes. His hair was in disarray and his clothes were wrinkled.
Indeed, little one. In fact, we have slept too long. It is early, yet we should resume our journey now so as to get a good start.
Eragon woke Brom, who was much less of a morning person. The old storyteller looked around, noticing Ancalagon's absence like Saphira.
"Where's your silver friend?" he asked Eragon and Saphira. Eragon shrugged.
"I'm pretty sure that he's just off on a short flight." Eragon said, knowing that Brom was really asking if Ancalagon had abandoned them.
I agree, Saphira said, If my habits are anything to judge by, he's likely off hunting.
As if to confirm her guess, Ancalagon's gleaming form appeared in the air over the treetops to the east, a deer dangling from his mouth. He landed smoothly.
A successful hunt? Saphira questioned
Yes. Ancalagon replied as he approached Saphira. A doe tried to escape, but she didn't get far. The same with this buck, but I decided to bring it back to you. He placed the stiff deer on the ground. Releasing the deer from the strong grip exerted by his jaws, Ancalagon licked his bloodied muzzle a couple of times to clear the viscous red liquid.
Before he was able to finish and move off, Saphira darted her head forward , gently brushing her snout against the smooth golden scales. Ancalagon flinched, then pulled back in surprise, interrupting the contact.
Saphira blinked once, a hint of surprise present in her deep sapphire eyes. I did not expect you to hunt for me, Ancalagon, This is very nice of you, she said as she sniffed the deer a few times before picking it into her jaws, dragging it closer to her. Then, she placed her forepaw on it and tore into the corpse, blood gushing from the flesh as it was ripped open.
Did I miss anything important? Ancalagon said, turning his gaze from Saphira to Brom and Eragon.
"No. But the Raz'ac's tracks suggest they have gone to Yazuac." Eragon said. "We were just about to pack up and leave."
Yazuac... how far is it? Ancalagon asked, even though he already knew.
Due east and four days away, if all goes well. It's a small village situated by the Ninor River." Brom gestured at the Anora, which streamed away from them to the north. "Our only supply of water is here. We'll have to replenish our waterskins before attempting to cross the plains. There isn't another pool or stream between here and Yazuac."
Ancalagon looked to the sky, narrowing his eyes. It's best we wait a few more days. A storm's coming.
"Oh now you can tell the weather?" Brom asked sarcastically. "There isn't a single indication that anything larger than a gust of wind will cross our path."
You must believe me, Ancalagon said, blinking once, calmly looking back at Brom's distrusting glare, the storm will cause pain to all concerned.
"If it's so important, tell me how you know this!" Brom retorted.
Ancalagon merely narrowed his eyes. Never question a dragon's wisdom or intelligence, old man.
With that, Ancalagon walked away while Brom grumbled under his breath.
As Ancalagon predicted, the signs of a storm began to gather as a wind began to pick up. Since there was no shelter, they were forced to camp in the open. Eragon and Brom had to sleep underneath the dragons' wings, though they were grateful for the shelter and the warmth provided from the body heat of the dragons.
The morning after, Eragon woke well rested. This, combined with the wind becoming calm, left him in a good mood. These feelings of joy were brief, and the high spirits were dampened when Eragon saw that the sky ahead of them was dark with thunderheads.
Brom grimaced at the clouds, "Normally, I wouldn't go into a storm like that," he glanced at Ancalagon, who was looking at him with what passed for a smug grin. "But we're in for a battering no matter what we do, so we might as well get as far as we can before it hits."
The calm lasted until they reached the storm front. As they entered the storm's shadow, Eragon looked up to find it curved in intricate arcs. Returning his gaze to the ground before him, he spotted what seemed to be a ripple of air ahead of them. And it was heading for them fast. Eragon had a terrible feeling of foreboding as he and Brom hunched their shoulders, bracing themselves for the wind's impact. Eragon suddenly remembered the dragons and twisted in his saddle, mental words already shouting a warning that only had time to begin forming on his lips: Saphira, Ancalagon, LAND!
Ancalagon was already in motion, having suddenly remembered what had been about to happen. He had seized Saphira with his front claws and dove, pulling her down next to him. She struggled against him at this sudden indignation as they streaked towards the ground, but once she heard Eragon's mental scream, she went still, doing all she could to speed up the dive.
Brom's face paled, and they watched as Ancalagon and Saphira barely managed to reach the ground before the tsunami of wind struck. Saphira made to extend her wings to balance herself, but Ancalagon growled and pinned her wings to her side and pulled them both to the ground. The wave of wind blew past the dragons in a hurricane of dirt, rocks and blades of grass. Ancalagon kept Saphira down on the ground until the wind subsided, then released her.
That's one problem avoided, thought Ancalagon.
Lightning crackled across the sky and thunder rolled as they continued on, the dragons now on foot to avoid another wind-related catastrophe. Saphira cringed as a particularly large bolt of lightning forked through the sky nearby. She moved closer to Ancalagon, who seemed unphased by the display of light and noise. In fact, his eyes almost seemed to leap with excitement with each flash of light and each rumble of thunder.
How can you watch that terrible light and not be afraid? Saphira said, cringing again as another bolt flashed.
Lightning is not feared, but welcomed. It is... quite a sight to me.
Saphira pondered this, wondering how lightning could be a sight for anyone.
A loud rumble of thunder broke through her thoughts, making her cower against Ancalagon's side again, shaking uncontrollably. He draped his wing over her side, and she stopped shaking.
Sleep, Saphira. Ancalagon said softly, watching her until he was sure she was asleep. Then he laid his head down to go to sleep himself, then felt a tongue against his cheek.
Thank you, Ancalagon...
And I think I'll end this one here.