Gold-tipped arrowheads were aimed at them from massive walls that separated the woods from the Elven border fortress of Kel'am. Elven infantrymen lowered spears at their sides, while Eragon's party remained mounted, hands inching near their weapons.
"Put down your arms, you fools. Don't you know who I am?" Arya bellowed as the elven spearmen inched closer. Eragon inspected the walls that loomed over them. They were of white and gold, dozens of feet high, with strange writing inscribed onto the thatched stone. Guards patrolled the battlements, and archers strung arrows, ready to slay Eragon and his entire party at a moment's notice. Elonubum hissed at the elves, while Brom sat on his horse, silent and resigned. Prince Orik swore, his weapon drawn. Cambion lowered his head, blue hair falling over his eyes.
Ancient trees, unscathed from Laen Elf industry this far from the mainland, grew high above them, with trunks as big as carriages with heavy leaves as large as Eragon's head. The sunlight bounced from each tree, traveling downward, jumping from leaf to leaf, until finally it specked onto the ground level of the forest in heavenly rays of bright light.
"Tiedame alan, Auesame Arya-aftan." A voice called, low and melodic like the soft beat of a war drum. At the sound of the voice, the elves lowered their weapons somewhat, and Arya shot an annoyed glance up to the fortress walls.
"What did he say?" Eragon whispered, eyes darting from Arya to the tip of a serrated spear that was trained on his heart. Arya grimaced in anger, gripping the reigns of her horse while her face grew red.
"He said that he knows who I am." She spat.
"Then why do they halt us?" Prince Orik questioned, black eyes filled with barely controlled rage.
"I do not know." Arya answered simply, and then rose her pointed chin to the shrouded elf who stood atop the battlements, more prominent than the others.
"Jost tied kukal olen, mina estaka minua?" Arya shouted, louder than necessary. The drum-beat voice answered her, and the two Elves conversed, Arya growing more and more enraged with every word spoken from the shrouded figure. Finally, the gate below the shrouded elf opened, but the soldiers made moves towards their weapons. Orik shouted in fury, peeling his axe away from elf hands and striking the being hard across the head. The elf's gilded helmet rang throughout the quiet forest, while the elf himself fell backwards, disorientated as arrows descended upon Orik. Before Eragon could react, the arrows stopped inches away from Orik's opened mouth, his wide eyes fixed on the dozens of arrowheads.
"Let them take your weapons." Arya said softly, her hand outstretched towards Orik. She curled her fingers into fists, and the arrows broke in two as they fell to the ground, useless. Orik grumbled as a new elf retrieved the Prince's ax warily while others came for each member of Eragon's party. Saphira lowered herself to the ground, standing beside Eragon.
What's going on? She inquired, her voice surprisingly adult.
I don't know. I think we're . . . being arrested. Eragon replied as he handed his sword and shield to a waiting elf. Elonubum gave up her bow and daggers, while Arya herself gave up her slim sword. Brom was last, and he dropped his heavy broadsword to the ground with a thud and a plume of smoke. The elf attending to him glared up at Brom, and then bent over to pick up his weapon. After all this, they were urged inside the Fortress walls, the chain gate setting shut behind them.
So these are elves. Saphira said conversationally as the aforementioned beings hurried about them. Some would stop and stare at Saphira, who seemed to absorb all rays of the sparse sunlight that reached the forest floor. They had the same general appearance as Arya: Slanted eyes, bright hair, and tall bodies with long arms. They were dressed brilliantly, blue and red robes wrapping their bodies while their lower mouths were covered by a scarlet scarf. Underneath the robes, however, Eragon saw thin chest-plate armor while their shoulders shined, garbed in spaulders fashioned into lion's mouths. Their arms were armored by belted leather gauntlets, and their legs wore leather breeches with high black boots.
They're impressed by you. Eragon said to Saphira as a young-looking elf was knocked by an older one, who had stopped to regard Saphira with violet eyes.
I am somewhat of an impressive sight, I think. Despite the strange situation, Eragon grinned.
Ah, proud are we?
If you were a dragon, you would be too.
As they were herded into the center of the main square, Eragon saw the shrouded elf waiting for them. The square was crafted of fine marble, their horses clicking as they walked upon the surface. Around them wooden towers stood nearly as high as the trees, with flags waving on the turrets. The buildings of the fort were built of birch and stone, impressive foundations that looked like they could stand the test of time and battle. Beyond the marble square, another large wall stood, spreading to the left and right for as far as Eragon's eye could see. Built onto the wall was a second fort-like structure, dual doors standing firm and resolute against the free grass that waved between the marble square and the rest of the ground, which it shared with dwindling gargantuan trees.
As they came closer to the shrouded elf, it removed its hood, and Eragon's eyes widened as he saw an Elf that rivaled Arya in beauty. She had piercing blue eyes, while dark hair fell down into her shoulders. A small mouth pursed as dimples dug into her cheeks, and high cheekbones rose proudly with her face as she looked up to Arya.
"Auesame Arya-aftan Delana Valbhorethlian," She said with a deep bow. When she rose, her eyes caught the rest of Arya's party.
"Welcome to Kel'am." She said neutrally, voice deep and richly accented. Eragon nodded his head towards the elf girl-commander who stood before him. She wore the same armors that her men did, but Eragon noticed she did not garb herself in the robes, nor did she wear a scarf. However, a quiver of arrows was found on her back, matched with a fearsome bow behind it. On her belt two short-swords hung, and she tickled the pommels of them as she turned her attention back on Arya.
"I am sorry for the inconvenience. We have our orders. " She said apologetically.
"Orders from whom?" Arya said with a snarl.
"Auresoma Islanzadi." The elf girl said with a tint of finality. Arya's face fell as she opened and closed her mouth in surprise.
"Auresoma Islanzadi believed you would take these roads, due to the western entrances blocked from the Sealed Elves rebellion, and she knew you wouldn't take the main entryway, so she had doubled the guard at Kel'am. She waits at Eleena's door." The commander said, pointing to the wall far beyond them.
Arya did not respond to the woman, and she turned her attention to Eragon and the others.
"My name is Deslyewo Aufen, of House Aufen, wardens of Kel'am. If you would follow me please. "
Deslyewo lead them over the marble square and onto the soft grassland that stretched between Kel'am and Eleena's door. The fort-gate seemed to grow larger as they traveled closer to it, and Eragon saw that it even began to cause the ancient trees of the land to seem dwarfed compared to Eleena's massive size. Still guarded by infantry, they came to the dual doors, and the giant wooden frames were pulled open, revealing an ornate building that was a part of the wall. Waiting at the center of the hall was Arya.
Or someone who Eragon mistook as Arya. As he saw the elf woman now, he could see the slight differences. There was an agelessness about her face, and a deeper than normal wisdom glowed from her green eyes. She did not bear the black hair with white-blonde streaks as Arya did, but everything else about her face was almost exactly the same. The eyes, the small but pointed nose, the square jaw . . .
Elven guards stood at the feet of her seat, armed with giant greatswords that bisected their bodies in perfect symmetry. Around them, the room was shaped in a large square, sparsely decorated. Beyond the throne, a long expanse of space stretched until another set of gigantic slabs of wood was found. At Islanzadi's left and right, three elves stood. One on her right hand wore white locks tied into a bun, with skin as black as night and yellow eyes. At her left hand, an elf with brown skin like Elonubum stood with yet another that shared the same look as Arya and Islanzadi.
"Auresoma Islanzadi, your daughter, Auesame Arya." Deslyewo presented, bowing with the rest of her men. Islanzadi simply nodded, and Deslyewo retreated with a soft clink as her armored feet walked across the wooden floor. For a long time that was the only sound as Islanzadi narrowed her eyes at Eragon, Saphira, and the rest of them. Arya looked down at her hands, which gripped the reigns of her nickering horse.
"Arya," Islanzadi said finally. Arya's head shot up, anger in her eyes.
"You see, mother? I have brought you a Rider. Look at how his dragon grows. He will be a magnificent warrior."
The Sealed Elf smirked.
"All I see is a fledgling dragon who has not tasted true battle." He said, and Saphira growled at the Sealed Elf.
"You thought it necessary to involve the Triumvirate?" Arya rasped, her voice taken by fury.
"I did. You say you have brought me a Rider . . . all I see is a green human and a newly hatched lizard." Islanzadi spat.
"Open your eyes! This . . . this boy will grow into something great! We have no dragons of our own, and with him we could win the war." Arya said, her hands curling around the rope of her reigns.
"We? Dilenu, have you made an official statement of war against Galbatorix?" She asked. The Laen Elf shook his head.
"No Auresoma." He said respectfully.
"Blouud, have the elves who remained loyal to their masters found the need to declare for Arya's cause?"
The sealed Elf said nothing, but turned his head in answer.
"Konolum, have the Xoshan attempted to attack Galbatorix as of late?"
Konolum's eyes shot daggers at Elonubum.
"No. But like all three races, some of ours felt it necessary to flee to the aide of human squabbles. Laneyo (Young Girl) does it warm your heart to know that nearly one hundred thousand of ours lie dead? It is good that fighters like yourself have decided to leave us in our time of dire need."
Elonubum lowered her head.
"I did not . . . I did not know . . ."
"Wait."
Islanzadi stood from her throne. She wore a regal black dress that trailed behind her like a traveling pool of shimmering ebony water, while red puffy material flared at her collar. She strode past Eragon, past Arya, until she came to Brom. He looked away from her, but she turned to Arya, her eyes filled with utmost contempt and hatred.
"You have brought a Forsworn into our mist." Islanzadi said as soldiers abandoned their places around the party, and focused their attentions on Brom alone. Arya looked at Eragon with eyes full of shock, and Eragon himself turned in his saddle, and fixed his eyes on Brom. Brom looked at him, but then dropped his gaze.
"is it true?" Eragon whispered. If Brom was part of the Forsworn, it meant he was responsible for millions of deaths. It meant he was responsible for the death of Garrow, the destruction of Carvahall.
Brom returned his eyes to Eragon's, his face so young despite his age. A tear rolled down Brom's cheek as he nodded. Eragon remembered the name, the name that the Shades kept on calling Brom. A name that was filled with malice and contempt, a name built on evil itself.
Caomhim.
"So you did not know, human boy?" Islanzadi said casually as she was handed Brom's blade. She drew the sword out from its scabbard, and Eragon saw the dusky red metal edge, mixed with black metal. The eyes of the hilt glowed as the hilt guard-fashioned in a dragon's mouth, was opened in a snarl. Reptilian feet formed the pommel, which held onto a red ruby sharp enough to impale a man.
"Paljasta." Islanzadi muttered, waving a hand across the flat of the blade. Suddenly, writing appeared on the blade of Brom's weapon, evil in design alone.
"Caomhim the avenger of Alyenne, and bane of the world." Islanzadi said with a small smile as she threw the blade to the floor. It seemed to scream as it slid across the wood, spinning until it finally stopped, the point-end of it directed towards Eragon.
"Imprison them all. Save for Caomhim. I will deal with him directly." Islanzadi ordered, and Eragon could only sit in his saddle dumbly as he heard men take Brom away, while Arya screamed at her mother. Islanzadi simply walked back to her throne, and watched with dead eyes as they were taken away from her baneful gaze.