Edited 1/29/22 - all chapters are getting a overhaul. Things might not match until this process is complete.

I do not the Inheritance Cycle

Enjoy,


Voyage

Rose was not quite sure where it was that they were at, only that a small woodland surrounded the deer trail they had been following since leaving the cabin days before. They had hopes that the trail would eventually lead them to a road, and later a village. It had been to their dismay discovered that their provisions were getting low. They needed food, and soon, else they were danger of becoming fatigued or ill or starving.

In all truth she missed the shelter of the capital; she was never hungry there as she was out in the wilds nor was she ever quite so cold. Always had she had a warm bed to sleep in and never had to worry if she would eat that night or not. She had never before had to worry about those things, though she did not. When she had left, she hadn't realized the hardships she was about to face. It was those hard hardships that made it seem as the winter had a harness to it unlike any other. She couldn't lie to herself, she missed Urû'baen and the safety it provided, despite the threats, it had been her home.

In the wild the days passed in a blur of mind-numbing tiredness, and her body was constantly sore, as if she had been beaten all over with sticks. Their travel has slowed to mere crawl yet they kept the grueling pace of traveling from sun up till sun down. Whereas before they had been traveling solely by horseback, moving avidly and swiftly, now they frequently journeyed on foot beside their steeds, their boots disappearing in the layers of snow. The dragon followed slowly after them, and often they had to stop completely to allow it to catch up.

The clear weather had gone way, and now they traveled through a miserable blend of snow and icy rain. It agitated them, placing them in foul tempers and it was not long before many unpleasant words were exchanged, the weather also made them all the more determined to find either town or shelter.

Ailis guided them westward by the sun and stars, and on clear nights they watched the moon growing thinner until it was waned to a nail paring and disappeared, and then witnessed its gradual return. The land itself prohibited swift movement; the ground was uneven and strewn with small rocks and treacherous holes, hidden underneath a thick blanketing of snow, that threatened to twist or even break the horses legs if they were careless, because of this they could travel at most three leagues in a day and it was more than thirty leagues before they sighted the rising peaks of The Spine in the distance. As they neared its shadowing peaks the level plains were soon exchanged with rolling foothills. Rose, elated at seeing the change at first, found the foothills hard going; dreary, empty and dispiriting. Before the last of the light left the sky Ailis would ride ahead of them to check for any signs of road or life and every time she would return grim faced with heavy disappointment, and together they would quickly set up a makeshift camp in the frequent small dips or hallows that were untouched by the worst of winter's tempest. Far too wary for much else, the travelers would eat an insipid meal of berries and the last of their hardened rolls of staled bread, and afterwards Tornac would force both Rose and himself into action and tutor her in swordcraft, pushing her far past her limits, only then the three of them would gather theirselves under the meek sheltering of their blankets.

During the fruitless marching, the dragon matured drastically, and soon it was safe from most dangers, doubling its size in the first week and when it was a fortnight old it was the size of a small horse, its shrill squawking deepened into a deep bass grumble. Repeatedly throughout the day the dragon would take off, away from the group, to hunt but it always kept within mental contact of Rose. Their mindtouch expanded as quickly as the dragon grew, so that they could communicate anywhere within the distance of three leagues.

Finding that the dragon, which seemed wholly unaltered by the freezing conditions, to be the only single affable company she had during these lengthy days, Rose turned towards its steady composure. Even with her continuous contact and the swift growing relationship with the dragon and the contentment she felt in its presence, she would more offend than not stubbornly rebuff the dragon's attempts at furthering their contact past their mute discussions directed purely through images and emotions.

"Don't be so severe with him," Ailis told her one morning when she hastily strode away from the clingy dragon.

Rose frowned quizzically. "It's a male?"

Ailis sighed and rubbed her face with her bare hands in exasperation. "Yes, Rose, do you have ears of cloth?"

Rose felt a new kind of fear stirring within her, a fear of the intimacy she was forming with the dragon, knowing its gender only worsened her uncertainties and prickled at her anger. She glanced at the dragon, and it flickered its tongue out and blinked at her, sending her its feelings of contentment. "I could leave you here, you know," she him bitterly, "seeing as you enjoy the cold so."

The dragon stiffened and turned away, his head raised to sky to watching the dropping snow dance in the wind. The little menace closed his mind to her, and she was once again her own person. She leapt onto the saddled back of Starshine, and looked into the countryside with resigned fury.

That day they cheerlessly rode, as the snow was low to the ground and permitted them to do so, in silence with the muted halo of the sun rising high above them before disappearing behind the rocky crags of the mountains, at times the dragon glided dejectedly above or stumbled loudly behind the steeds, tentatively commuting without words to Rose.

As Ailis took her twilight exploration for the road that night, Rose and Tornac huddled under an inadequate shelter of a small fir, with the dragon close by, sitting on his haunches his clawed hands resting on the ground in front of him. Tornac had, to cap the misery of their flight completely, developed a heavy cold with a lurid cough, and when Tornac began to shudder intensely, Rose unwrapped herself and draped her blanket over his frame. Then she wandered around the evergreen picking off their green gristly needles for a luscious tea and when she had, what she thought to be, enough she set them on the top of her saddlebags. Ambling tiredly around the tree Rose collected enough tinder for a small fire, the dragon trailing her with its bright eyes.

"Where is the tinderbox kept?" asked Rose as she positioned the kindling the same way she had seen Tornac and Ailis do.

Tornac coughed. "It is broken," he said breathily.

"I know but that's where the stones are kept."

Tornac slowly leaned over and prodded through his bags before pulling out a steel cylinder with a damaged rusty chain that linked through its center, fastened to the fetter was a long horizontal ovoid ring. He handed the tinderbox to Rose and leaned back against the base of the tree, watching her with heavy eyes.

Rose turned the object over and peered inside where a corner of soiled fabric poked out of the center, pinching the silky fabric she struggled with it until the scrap of cloth was out of the tinderbox and was resting on her palm. Placing the metal tinderbox onto the ground, Rose bent down resting on her knees and unwrapped the fire starting stones, a chipped white and gray banded disk of agate and tarnished dark yellow cluster of marcasite lay between the folds of beaded cloth. She dropped the strip of fabric on top of the tinderbox and looked at the tinder uncertainly.

"Strike down," advised Tornac between coughs.

Nodding in understanding, Rose held the stones between her fingers and struck them together, jumping back onto the balls of her feet as they collided together with a deafening clap. Calming herself, Rose struck again and again watching transfixed as ember sparks dashed off the surface of the rocks, and so she did not notice when the tinder caught. The dragon mind-touched her with a image of the smoldering tinder and the small trails of silvery smoke that climbed into the evening sky, and she started slightly before dropping the stones into the snow and leaning forward to blow gently between the stocks of timber. When a small golden flame wavered, Tornac leaned forward in front of Rose and placed a hand full of dried grass into the leaning tinder then he leaned back he pulling Rose back with him. The flames quickly ate up the brown tuft stuttering out portions of sparks as it crackled gleefully.

Rose smiled, pleased with her feat, and admired the flickering flames for a long moment before she stood and rummaged through a bulky saddlebag in hunt of the cookware. Pulling out the coarse iron pot and ladle, she walked a short distance to a patch of pure snow and scooped a small pile into the pot and walked back. Rose placed the pot close to the fire and sat between Tornac, who was leaning heavily against the fir tree with his eyes close, and the dragon. They rested in silence for a time. Then Tornac stirred and leaned forward coughing violently, Rose looked over to him with concern.

"We're lost," said Tornac when the coughing subsided.

Rose started. "Pardon?"

"We are lost," he cleared his throat. "Ailis will never admit it but we're lost."

"I'm in the understanding that we are being directed by the stars," said Rose with a frown, thinking that perhaps fever was affecting Tornac once again.

"We are. Not so much before, and so now we are lost." Tornac shut his eyes.

A long silence fell between them, and Rose mixed the melting snow, dully clanking the ladle against the pot's rimming, when the snow had melted wholly she dropped in the fir needles so to let them seep. She was so weary that she scarcely noticed what she was doing, and the pot almost fell over and into the fire. The dragon, who was resting contently nearby, growled deeply so to get her attention and Rose unthinkingly raced her hands out to seize the handles. Hissing in response to the heated metal, she quickly jerked the pot straight and inspected her hands. It was not a severe burn only a thick glossy pink band on her palms. She submerged her hand into a cooling piling of snow.

The dragon leaned in closer and snaked his head around to her, nuzzling her arm with his snout in interest. Rose looked up at him, she could see herself reflected in his eye, and they regarded each other then she felt his mind, tinted with curiosity, touch her own and instead of the images she was customary with she heard a deep, almost musical voice.

Hurt. Are you?

She started in alarm and nearly toppled over.

He blinked, and the ridges above his eyes shifted, no longer emitting curiosity but wryness and, even, amusement.

You hurt?

With her mouth agape, she stared at the dragon as he shifted, his scales, covered in globules, shimmered in the firelight like hardened gems. The dragon thumped his tail loudly and Rose shook her head in astonishment.

"So you talk now, is that it?" she asked the dragon, struggling to compose herself.

Tornac stirred beside her and opened his eyes looking at her feverishly, his were eyes glossed over. Rose simply pointed to the dragon, and seeming too tired to inquire about it he quickly fell back to sleep.

Maybe. The dragon beat his tail against the ground.

Her eyes widened at the unexpected reply and she glanced at the dragon questioningly before turning away to mind the fire, drawing the hood of her cloak snugly over her head she pushed the dragon from her mind. Rose felt rather thick for disregarding the dragon's intelligence, she had heard various rumors that the King's dragon Shruikan had the ability to speak with words but she always thought them to be just that; rumors and nothing more.

Rose was scooping out the boiling tea into the wooden mugs with the ladle when Ailis returned, seated regally on top of Arvid, looking both grim faced and proud. Ailis slid off the mare's stooped back and quickly unsaddled her before dropping close to the fire next to Rose.

"I'll have some of that," Ailis said pointing to the green tinted tea. Rose offered Ailis her untouched mug which Ailis took greedily, and stood up to fetch a third out of the pack. Placing a mug filled to the brim with tea on the ground next to Tornac while walking past him.

"This is a pleasant change," Ailis commented, tugging off her tatty fingered gloves. "What brought it on?"

Rose glanced at Ailis and sat in the same place as before and stirred the tea. "Tornac is getting worse," she said quickly, "We cannot keep going scrambling around like dogs in the wild, we have to move and find some shelter soon."

Ailis shot Rose a look of black anger. "Do you think that I do not know this?" Ailis retorted crossly, causing Tornac to flinch violently, gasping for air and looking around startled, both Ailis and Rose looked around at him as he settled. Then Ailis took a deep calming breath and said in a kinder tone, "Forgive me, Rose. I know your concerned for him, I am as well, but I cannot simply magic a road to appear."

Rose hesitated. "I was not asking you to," Rose said softly, pouring herself tea. "I've never seen him so ill in my life. I wish we were in a place to allow him to rest.

"As do I, Rose," Ailis stated softly, taking a sip of tea and swallowed loudly, sputtering with distaste. "This very pungent! Did you add in a whole tree?" she said with a cough.

"I suppose so," Rose said smiling faintly as Ailis peered inside the pot and groaned.

"That would an understatement. You've added a whole forest!" mumbled Ailis, standing up and walking away. When she came back she spread some food between them: dried fruits and meats and a single tough looking biscuit. "Eat," she said. "Then we'll labor through your swordcraft before bed which has been sorely neglected since Tornac fell ill."

Rose broke the biscuit in two in response.

When they were done eating, Ailis lead Rose to just past the reaches of the fire's glow to and looked Rose over sternly before unbuckling her shortsword from her belt, requiring that Rose do the same. Rose found Ailis to be more severe than Tornac, constantly growling out bizarre remarks to bewilder, anger, and one time insult her, and Ailis was not as talented as he; her reflexes were swift and she was very strong despite her size, but she was no elegant fighter though she was just as instance. When Rose quietly remarked on this, Ailis simply laughed.

"You have been sparring only with Tornac," said Ailis, "who comes from a family where a great skill of swordcraft is their birthright, so its no surprise that I do not meet his abilities."

Frowning Rose tightened her grip on her sword thoughtfully. "I've been meaning to ask you, Ailis, where did you learned your skill?"

"I'd rather not say," said Ailis, her face hidden in shadow. "Now let's start again."

Ailis took over the swordcraft lessons for about a week, and under Ailis' tutorage Rose's accuracy and skill grew with her confidence. Ailis, despite her occasional remarks, was a patient and encouraging teacher and Rose also was no longer a raw beginner: holding the sword no longer felt strange and she had quick reactions and had a good natural balance. After a time Ailis began to coach her in unarmed combat, and Rose began to feel for the first time that she might be able to hold her own against attack.

"Don't get over overconfident," Tornac warned breathlessly from the sidelines. "You are still only a beginner. It's the stroke you don't see that kills you."

Rose simply looked at him sourly.

That night they were camped in a deep hallow in a shelter of two huge rocks that leaned together at a rough angle, creating a natural roof. Rose was on first watch and sat at the edge of the dell, looking over the silent hills and the stars burning over them. She was very tired, but she was use to fighting her wariness, and to pass the time she sent her mind out in search of the dragon. She felt and heard nothing. The dragon had taken off late in the afternoon that day and Rose has not been able to touch his mind since. She shifted on the hard ground nervously; it was very cold, and her legs cramped with stiffness.

Three hours after sundown the half-moon climbed into the starry heavens and cast a chilly light over the landscape. Rose was thinking that it was time she moved about in attempt to warm herself, when she heard a noise. Immediately she sharpened her mind and sent out after the noise; it was barely distinguishable from the wind but she heard the familiar flapping of wings. A mind connected with her own, and the dragon sent a warm emotion her way in greeting and she stood looking into the sky. The dragon had not spoken to her in words, not since Ailis taken over her lessons, instead returning to his silent emotions and visions to communicate.

At last Rose spotted him as he descended from the darkened sky. The snow swirled into the air as he loudly landed in front of her. She frowned at him.

"Where have you been?" she asked.

A vision of a shaggy kind of deer darting down a hill, flickered across her mind, it turned its head around with gleaming black eyes wide with fear, its breath was rapid and shallow from the exertion of its run, and its bulk trembled in fear, its tail twitching. The creature dashed to its right and stumbled into a hole twisting its limbs, and the cracking of bones could be heard. The loud sound of flapping wings, not unlike the deafening boom of thunder, and the deer was getting closer until it could be seen with one eye, it twitched and attempted to stand only to fall back down and screech in panic. Rose pushed the dragon's mind away with disgust.

"No need to go any farther, I understand, you were hunting," said Rose, a vile taste in her mouth. She swallowed. "You've been away for quite some time, it's a wonder that you spent all your time catching a meal."

The dragon pounded the ground with its tail and folded his wings.

Feeling the dragon's mind touch her own once more, she opened to it and gasped. A vision of a small town, from high above in the sky, leagues from where they were now, with a beaten dirt path down its middle.

Rose turned toward the dragon.

"You came across a town?" she asked.

The dragon established that he had indeed glided over a settlement with another image of the town.

Rose grinned openly, truly enlivened for the first time since parting from Urû'baen, at the dragon. "Thank you!" she said breathlessly. "Oh, thank you, little menace, I cannot say how grand of news this is."

The dragon's ruby eyes gleamed happily and she looked at his bulk thoughtfully. He was now taller than she.

"You can no long go by 'little menace', I think," she said suddenly.

The dragon merely blinked.

She sighed, a curl of vapor churned into the air. "You ought to have a name to go by."

An image, crossed Rose's mind, of tingled briar branches and attached to the vision was an emotion. Recognizing the dragon's tinges of amusement, she narrowed her eyes at him angrily.

"Sweetbriar?" she asked raising an eyebrow, "You wish to be called 'Sweetbriar'? That's rather formidable. All shall fear the almighty Sweetbrair!"

The dragon sent his disapproval. No.

She momentary started as his voice echoed loudly in her mind.

"What then?"

Grumbling, the dragon faintly drummed his tail against the ground and sent another vivid vision of the sweetbriars.

"I don't understand," she said. "Can you not tell me instead of sending me riddling images?"

The dragon thumped his tail loudly causing Rose to flitch, and focused the vision of briars to its small sharp details. Thorn, he said.

She stared at him in surprise.

"Thorn, indeed," Rose muttered.

That next day they awoke early and Rose hurried told Ailis about the town. The woman listened, asking for further directions. When it was decided that they would change their direction north, Tornac called out to her, having wondered into the woodland quite some time ago.

She turned at the sound of her name and worried, hurriedly made her way through the underbrush towards him. Thorn followed her, nudging her arm with his snort. Pushing the dragon away, she walked around a tree, listening to the crushing of snow beneath hers and the dragon's feet or watching for wildlife, though very little was seen, until she reached Tornac. The man was bent down in front of scraggy bush, his cloak pulled around him. She ran to him in alarm. He looked up and smiled at her.

"I'm alright," he said with a cough, hiding his hands from view. "Hold out your hands."

Rose looked at him warily but did as he said. She felt him take her hands and pull off her gloves, and she felt as three somethings, small and cold and hard, fall into her palm. Then she opened her eyes and looked at the objects in her hands in disbelief. "Oh! Blueberries!" She exclaimed, "I can't believe you've found berries in winter!"

He grinned at her for a moment, and handed her a small bag filled with them. "I had thought you'd enjoy them," he said, and she helped stand up.

As they began to walk back, she put the berries into her mouth. They were and dried in the harshness of cold, but at that moment they tasted better anything she had ever had. The dragon beside her, nudged her elbow again, and this she looked at him and rubbed its snout. Quietly, she thanked Tornac, and tucked the sack of berries away. Blueberries were a favorite of hers, and they were quite a treat to have. Perhaps not everything was as bad as it seemed…

Once they returned to the encampment, they left following the path Thorn had seen. When the sun was at its highest, as Thorn had promised, they saw thin lines of smoke rising on the horizon far in front of them. Forcing the horses into a fast gait, they rode throughout the day hunched against the icy rain, their cloaks clapping loudly behind them from the chilling wind.

They reached the unwalled hamlet well after dark that day. The hamlet was a collection of maybe two dozen houses, looking less like a habitation and more of a battlefield. At least three houses had been burned down, and nobody seemed to have bothered to clean away its remains. Other houses seemed to have been abandoned, their shutters swinging in the breeze, their doors hanging drunkenly off their hinges.

They entered the town quietly and headed to a small and a, surprisingly, comfortable inn called the Lazy Oak. Rose was numb with cold and tiredness, and was grateful for the respite from the rain. It wasn't long before Ailis roused the inn keeper, who looked curiously at them but admitted them cheerfully and, after stabling their horses, showed them to a small pair of low-eaved rooms linked by a comfortable sitting room, in which he lit a fire.

"Too late for dinner, by some hours," said the innkeeper with a slight accent. "Can I get you anything? Some spiced wine perchance? You look half frozen."

He bust out eagerly not waiting for an answer, and did not return that night. Tornac wasted no time falling into one of the beds as Ailis threw her cloak onto a chair and leaned towards the fire.

"Perhaps it is a good thing our large friend hatched for you," she said covering a yawn.

Rose nodded tiredly and explored the rooms, and she found, to her delight, that there was even a bathroom, although it didn't have a way to heat water. With intense relief she washed hair and body, and changed into the last set of clean clothes from her pack. She returned to their sitting room to find Tornac swiftly asleep.

"We'll stay here tomorrow and the next day," said Ailis slumped by the fire. "I think we're safe enough; I doubt anyone will notice us here. I want to buy some supplies and we need to do some washing. It will do us good to have a rest before we go on."

Rose agreed and sat down close to Ailis. She contacted Thorn through her mind to tell him the information and to see if he was settled. They, Rose and Thorn, had decided that he was to stay near a knoll veiled by thick trunked trees just within their mind-touch should they needed to contact one another.

Safe? he asked.

Rose rubbed her hands together, still uneasy with his voice. We are. And you?

He grumbled through his mind. Yes.

Ailis says we shall stay here awhile. I cannot say I disagree with her, and Tornac is in a rather ill state.

Thorn paused, sending his emotions to her instead of words.

I don't understand you, Thorn, Rose told him. Use your words.

She felt as he began to thump his tail. When you come, I will be here, Thorn said before breaking off their contact. Looking around, Rose noticed that Ailis had also gone to bed and for the first time since Thorn hatched she felt completely alone.


A/N: I'm iffy about Thorn's naming. Saphira first talked to Eragon when she was little over 14 nights old but unlike her, Thorn waited until he felt that it was nessacary to do so. A lot of time passed in this chapter and to those who want to know, Brom, Eragon, and Saphira are probably well out of Palancar Valley at this point.