I do not own The Inheritance Cycle.
First I want to apologize for the state the last chapter was written in, I didn't think that when switching from one version on Word Doc to another that it might change words around, so my bad. Also this update is a short story, can't say I'm sorry about that. The next chapter will be up at some point but I had to travel south due to my grandfather's this. If you can spare a moment tell me what you think,


Cyclic

His whistling was truly beginning to bother Ailis, it was not the shrill, piercing sound of the whistling itself but the fact that it held no tune.

Ailis glared into the shining ripples of the water, thinking as she always did when she narrowed her eyes in this way, of her mother. Her mother was a stern, yet, loving woman who had died when she was a young age. It was her mother who had always told her in that calm voice she possessed; "Don't squint," her mother would say, "shade your eyes with you palm, you don't want to gain wrinkles." Ailis scoffed at her mind's echo, gaining wrinkles was not a concern to her.

She pushed the paddle further into the water and drew it out.

Her concerns, Ailis did not wish to think about but always when the thought was in her mind it bubbled and grew until she had to work them out. In her desperation, she had been drawn into the lowly depths of praying to unnamed gods, and to the air and its winds that drew across the lands in hopes to change what was. She had hoped, and lost many hours of sleep due because of her fears and desires. Her fears, oh, how she had gained so many fears over the years.

To distract herself she forced the paddle into the water and drew it back, the pole was slick with water and spun around in the breeze. Heaving the wooden paddle out of the stream, the light breeze that blew caused small droplets of water to splash onto her clothing.

Ailis had been forced to hide away all these years, it was no choice to her. The last three years, she had been hiding from the Empire which forced her to stay hidden among the people within The Varden's stronghold. It was not a stronghold, really, but more of hideaway, as the people of The Varden theirselves were in hiding. Within the hiding strong of the Varden people, and the Empire's spies that walked among the, it was the fear of her discovery was one of her greatest fears, that and what would become of her and the family she left behind.

She placed the paddle across her lap, allowing her aching hands and arms to rest as the slow flow of the stream carried her boatcraft forward. Rubbing her face with her damp hands she glanced behind her. As she looked behind her, at the broad face of her traveling partner, the craft rocked unsteadily beneath her from the slight weight shift.

The boatcraft was a long, narrow craft shaped with a light flexible frameworking, which was covered with a sturdy waterproof animal skin. A sturdy wooden plate sat in the center of the craft allowing a person to sit comfortably. A long wooden paddle that ended in a scoop on either side pushed the boat forward. Ailis had been told that the people of the north called this boatcraft a Qajaq, or the hunting boat in their tongue.

"S'mething 'h m'tter, 'ilis," asked Herb, from behind her on the Qajaq that was trailing through the calm waters.

Ailis looked forward, and picked back up the paddle and pushed it into the water, and heaved it back. "Nay, Herb," she said.

"D'n't s'und like n'thing to me, it d'n't," replied Herb.

"I would not worry about it."

"P'll 'shore, 'ilis," called Herb.

Pushing the paddle into the water with a little more force than necessary, Ailis frowned looking at the high grass walled shores and continued on.

"'ilis!" Herb shouted after a short moment of silent paddling.

"What is it, Herb?"

"I say t' p'll 'shore," he said.

Ailis looked uneasily the shoreline. "When I see a decent shoreline I will, but I am not, by any means, docking in that grass."

"Sc'red of s'mething, 'ilis?"

Yes, Ailis thought, I'm frightened of many things, and I don't fancy our chances of seeing those huge snakes that run about around here. "It is not wise to rest in the tall grasses, Herb," said Ailis.

"'s y'u say, 'ilis," said Herb, dipping his paddle into the water.

Ailis frowned and continued on, wishing to lose her thoughts in the simple rhythms of her paddling. She leaned her head forward to watch where she placing the paddle. She breathed in the spring air, it was fresh and crisp, and her nose itched due to the heavy smell of flowering trees and their pollen.

Before she had come The Varden, Ailis would have invented some way to keep the pollen from bothering her senses. She would have now, as well, if it were not for the pact she made with herself, not in the Ancient Language, oh, no, she could not do such a thing to herself. She knew then when she was making her vow that she took far too much joy in the power that the Ancient Language gave her, and because of this, she had no desire to simply give it up. After all, what could she possibly gain from forsaking magic? Instead of allowing herself to never use the powerful tongue, Ailis decided to only use it when necessary.

While in Farthen Dûr, she seen a number of Dwarf magicians who took on the belief that the use of magic came from their gods, and the gods gave them a limit or what they called a Balance. The belief seemed rather puerile to Ailis, but the idea of setting a balance in how she used the Ancient Language was not, and so she took up as few of the Dwarves did a sort of limitation as to when she would use magic.

Her reasonings for this action were not known to any except for herself, even her beloved, if he still remained loving her, did not know of her reason. It was fear, Ailis knew, fear of herself, of what she has done, of the deeds she has committed, of the child's death: her child's death, but most of all, it was the fear of her losing herself to the horrid creature she once was; these were her reason to give up her free use of magic. Ailis did not regret her choice, she could not because the use of magic was her own undoing, and because of it she had lost so much and gained so little.

The sharp sound of a crane taking off startled her away from her thoughts. She pushed the paddled into the dark inky water and drew it back.

No, she thought, my husband was my undoing without him, I would still be home probably milking some cow with a man I know nothing of and a house full of needy children, that I do not want.

In many ways Ailis was glad, she had met the man she had married, though he gave her little and used her as he fit, he gave her something her birthplace could not. For a time he gave her a family when her own was ripped apart, he gave her a child to love, and later when he left for half a year, he gave her a chance to find love. Alas, the happiness was only for a short time. He found out, she knew, and he ripped her happiness apart. First by twistedly killing the child they created together; her baby who she only just beginning to know, who she loved with her life. He could have stop there, but her husband did not, he then by going after the man she loved but he never got to slay that man, because the man she truly loved killed her husband first. Ailis and her beloved had never gotten the chance to live together, because soon after they arrived at The Varden together Ailis had sent her beloved away.

Ailis had not allowed herself time grieve after arriving to Farthen Dûr, keeping her mind and body busy. Work had always been the best way to clear her thoughts and keep her mind in order, and to Ailis it was the only way to move forward from the black place her mind dwelled in. Even after the years and many hours of work, her mind was still in a dark place.

Perhaps taking on this mission was not a wise idea, it gave her far too much time to reflect on the past, and the cycle the life has turned into to.