Heya, allz! I'm ba-ack! Unfortunately, it won't be for long--but I got back to it! MUAHAHAHAHA!
Ehehe...I'll just let you read now...

Vinarëal

Izayah winced as her eighth arrow flew wide of the target. The jeers of the dwarves around her were breaking her concentration. She had never shot a bow before, and it irked her that all these people were bothering her. And with Eragon off somewhere else, running some sort of errand for Nasuada, they wouldn't leave her alone.

Izayah drew another arrow, and sighted down the bow, as Eragon had showed her.

Feet shoulder-length apart…bow up to shoulder…draw with your back and upper arms…arrow sighted beneath the eyes…and release!

Once again, her arrow sailed over the target. Izayah blushed, hiding her face in her hands as the jeers grew even worse.

"You couldn't hit the broad side of a barn!" one dwarf shouted. "That's why a woman should never have been chosen as a dragon Rider!"

Another dwarf snorted. "What woman? She's just a girl!"

Izayah sank to the ground as the jeers continued. They were right; she couldn't be a Rider. Not because she was too young—Eragon was her age, and had been a Rider for almost a full year—but because she had no idea how to do anything. She couldn't use magic; she couldn't shoot a bow; she couldn't use a sword.

To put it simply, she was utterly useless as a Rider.

Hikaru should never have chosen me, she thought bitterly, tears springing into her eyes. I can't do anything right.

Suddenly, she heard a double-roar that seemed to shake the whole mountain. Saphira and Hikaru barreled down towards the field like bullets, pulling up just inches off the ground and landing on their feet. Hikaru dashed over and wrapped her wing around Izayah, snarling at the dwarves.

Eragon sprang off Saphira's back and landed on his feet next to Izayah. There was fire in his eyes.

"SILENCE!" he thundered, with Hikaru and Saphira roaring again in unison with his voice.

All the dwarves fell silent, shock written across their faces.

"What reason do you have to jeer at her?" Eragon's voice was deadly cool, and if looks could kill, every dwarf surrounding them now would be a fine red mist. "She's no worse than some of you were before you became proficient at the bow. Even I used to miss targets. No one is perfect—not even us Riders. Especially not the new ones."

"But she must have had some prior experience with a bow!" one dwarf protested. "Our children can at least hit the target!" Most of the dwarves nodded in agreement.

Eragon looked at Izayah, who stood up. "Where I come from," she said slowly, "we don't use bows and arrows. We've invented things that are smaller, shoot faster, and are lighter and easier to carry. And they're much more dangerous. I've never needed to learn how to shoot a bow. I know a little bit of swordplay, and that's it."

Eragon nodded, and glared back at the dwarves. "You've done enough. Leave."

Slowly, the dwarves filtered away, grumbling to themselves. They returned to their previous activities in the field.

Izayah stared at Eragon, awe on her face. "E-Eragon…?"

Eragon grinned at her. "Don't worry about them. Few to no dwarves are at peace with the fact that only humans and elves can be Riders." He furrowed his brows. "What you said…is it true? Have you really invented something that is lighter and more deadly than an elven bow and arrows?"

Izayah nodded slowly. "I don't want to talk about it, though."

Eragon nodded. "I understand. Now…let's see what you're doing wrong, shall we?"

Izayah nodded, and took up the stance he had shown her. She drew the bowstring, and sighted down the arrow. Eragon altered her posture a little.

"Now release—"

Izayah let go of the bowstring—and once again, the arrow sailed wide of the target.

Eragon nodded. "I see what you're doing wrong. You're jerking the bow—after you release the arrow. Unless you're really good at shooting, you need to keep the bow still, because too much movement can alter the arrow's path."

Izayah nodded. "Right. I'll remember that." She nocked another arrow, drew, sighted, and—keeping the bow as still as possible—fired.

The arrow flew straight, and hit the bull's-eye dead center.

Eragon applauded. "Great job! You're already almost a professional! Are you sure you've never used a bow?"

"I'm sure," she replied, stunned at her own ability.

Eragon nodded. "Well, I think that's enough archery for today—let's get started on swords."

Izayah glanced nervously at the fighting arena. "I don't have a sword, though…"

Eragon shrugged. "Neither do I." His face darkened for a moment.

That's right, Izayah remembered. Murtagh took it. That evil, conniving little son of a—

Eragon tapped her on the shoulder. "Hello? Are you all right? You're zoning out."

Izayah gave her head a little shake. "I'm fine."

Eragon grinned. "Good. We can borrow swords—that's why it's called a training field." He walked off, Izayah following. Over her shoulder, she saw Saphira and Hikaru take flight again.

Thwap!

"Keep your guard up!"

Thwap!

"Dodge faster!"

Thwap!

"Oh, come on! I'm not going that hard!"

Izayah sank to her knees. The wooden practice swords they were using didn't look like much, but they hurt—especially with the amount of force Eragon was swinging his with. She wasn't anywhere near fast enough to block him—she knew she was going to be in pain the next morning.

Eragon leaned on his sword. "Are you all right, Izayah?"

"No," Izayah grumbled, hauling himself to her feet. "I can't keep up with you—we might as well stop now."

Eragon was silent for a moment. Without warning, he whipped his sword towards Izayah's legs.

Without even thinking, Izayah dodged to the side, catching the wooden blade of Eragon's sword on her own. With a peculiar flick of her wrist, his practice sword went flying. Both of them stared at it as it skittered to a stop at the edge of the ring.

"I didn't know you could do that," Eragon said, impressed.

Izayah slowly shook her head. "Neither did I!"

Suddenly, there was a shout from one of the dwarves. "Look! Look! Up above!"

Everyone turned their heads, including Izayah and Eragon. A huge, black, roiling cloud hung over Tronjheim, casting a dark shadow down upon them.

"This isn't right," Eragon murmured. "There aren't any storm clouds underground!" His eyes widened. "Unless—"

Suddenly, the top of the clouds swirled up, and coalesced into the image of a man's neck and head. His skin was pale, and glowed eerily. His hair was ebony black, and so were his eyes—cruel, sharp, and endlessly black.

He bared his teeth, which were pointed. "Rider! I see you!" His voice was deep and raspy, and echoed strangely.

"A Shade," Eragon muttered. He stood taller, and raised his voice. "What do you want of us, Shade?"

The Shade's grin widened. "My name, tiny human, is Vinarëal. But it is not you I come for."

Izayah shuddered as Vinarëal turned his bottomless gaze on her. "I know from where you come, girl."

Izayah gaped at him. "No…"

Vinarëal laughed. "Yes! Rider from another world—it is you I want! And I will have you!" He licked his lips, and laughed manically. "The Kihaku no Honshitsu will be mine—and I will be invincible!"

There was a deafening clap of what sounded like thunder—and Vinarëal was gone.

Eragon turned his astonished gaze to Izayah, who was shivering out of control. "How did he find us? What's he talking about? And…what in the world is a Kihaku no Honshitsu?"

Izayah slowly shook her head. "I…I don't know…"

"And what does he mean, 'Rider from another world?' I thought you were just from another country!"

Izayah gulped. "Er…"

Eragon's eyes narrowed. "That is, unless you've been lying to us this whole time!"

"Hehehe…funny story, that…"

Eragon's eyes narrowed even further. Suddenly, he turned and ran. Saphira swooped down out of nowhere, and without either one stopping or slowing, he vaulted onto her back. In seconds, they were gone.

Izayah heard Hikaru touch down and dart over. Izayah! What's wrong?

Izayah covered her face with her hands. I've been bad, Hikaru. I betrayed Eragon's trust. I didn't tell him I wasn't from this world, and now…well, you saw.

Hikaru gazed at where Eragon had run, and then looked back at Izayah. There was worry in her silver eyes. This isn't going to be good, is it?

Izayah nodded, leaning against Hikaru's pearly scales. No…it's not. Tears sprang into her eyes. The dwarves were right about me, Hikaru—I don't deserve to be a Rider.

Hikaru's lips lifted in a silent snarl, even as she wrapped a comforting wing around Izayah's shoulders. They're wrong. If they try to take you away, I won't let them.

The two of them remained there for the longest time, sitting in the middle of the deserted training field, Izayah sobbing into Hikaru's side.

Vinarëal:vin-AR-ey-el
Kihaku no Honshitsu: kee-HA-koo no hon-SHEET-soo

Uh...I'm not gonna tell you what 'kihaku no honshitsu' means in English, 'cos that's a spoiler!
Review, please!