I have had everything planned in this story before I wrote it- I'm following an outline I wrote then.
I do not own the Inheritance Cycle.
Edited 2/2/22 - Please let me know your thoughts throughout the story, I'd love to hear for you :)
Enjoy,
The Flatlands of Leona Lake
That next day they followed the path east, keeping the horses at a brisk trot, through the reedy flatlands. Towards the middle of the afternoon they entered a small unwalled town named Corish, and they rode through it. The narrow unpaved streets stank of middens and their gutters were full of rubbish, vegetable peelings, eggshells, and rotting refuse, and the people watched them pass with distrustful eyes. It was not, thought Rose looking at the pocketed buildings, a particularly pleasant place. Ailis kept a good hold on Shadowless' reigns as she led Rose through the city as if she were afraid someone might try to come and take him, her face set in a grim mask. In little under half an hour, the buildings ended and the road split in two. "This is the main road to Dras-Leona. Here we can make up some lost time," said Ailis, turning her saddle. Arvid neighed and pawed at the ground, and then leapt forward at gallop. It seemed as if he were as eager as his rider to get to Dras-Leona.
They rode quickly, not stopping until they could hear the rushing waters of the Toark River before them, and there the sound of the horse's hoofbeats changed. Before them they saw a broad stone bridge, which had now fallen into disrepair. At the highest point of its span was carved an image of a great bear on the rocks of a gushing cascade, its falling waters rippling off into stone waves down the wide arch; but the bear had almost crumbled out of recognition and the ripples of water was mere runnels in the stone. Despite this the bridge was study, and they crossed safely to the other side and followed the road up along the other side of the valley, and at last they slowed to a trot.
To the west of them the mountains sat heavily on the horizon, and to the east Rose would see the purplish hills of the downs in the distance, but all around them the land was as flat as a floodplain. The Toark River ran towards the mountains, and it looked to Rose as sullen as the landscape, with black reeds sticking out of its churning surface. There were few trees, and those she saw stood solitary, bent by a previous prevailing wind. The land was rich and mucky, fading mounds of snow glittering before they were drowning in sticky mire.
They continued through dismal countryside for the week, traveling as swiftly as they could all day and keeping watch at night. And Rose watched as the river widened and was replaced by a large, gleaming, clear lake, each cloud and bird in the sky reflecting in its mirroring waters, disputed only by an occasional ripple. The bright weather held; Rose's eyes began to ache from the constant glare, and she was tired of the flatlands. They stretched ahead always, pass lone farmhouse and walled town and small rises of stone and blinding white snow- grim, unrelenting, mercilessly there. Despite her boredom, she was thankful for the sunshine, all the same, they had managed to travel a great deal and would be, according to Ailis, halfway through the valley in a couple of days.
As they traveled a contrast between Ailis and Rose seemed wedge itself in their relationship, and soon became a constant thing. They traveled as they always did, out of habit, and superficially things seemed as they always had; they joked, and talked in the evenings, although they did not bring out their swords Ailis taught Rose how to use the bow better and she developed some skill with it although the winds coming off the lake made it tricky to use. But even the brief resumption of Ailis' teaching role could not drive away the shadow that now lay between them, the more powerful because it remained unspoken.
Rose didn't know how this happened. She still trusted Ailis as she always had, but she found that she was less able to speak with her, and the harder it became to find a way to return their former friendship. Ailis who was reserved at the best of times was now mostly silent. Rose resented this, feeling that it was somehow related to Tornac and his death, and at the same time feeling that her silence was being used as a weapon against her.
At noon the fourth day after crossing the Toark, they had paused for their midday meal, near an half burned down hut, its charred wood reaching for the sky like broken fingers. It was not usual for them to eat far off of the road so that Thorn could join them in their brief rest, and he usually did not do so, not wanting to take the time to do so. That afternoon was no different, but the dragon swept down, nevertheless, from the sky in wide, swirling circles causing Rose to shudder in nervousness as a pair of travelers watched him in very far distance. She mindtouched with Thorn, and felt a tendril of unease from him.Thorn, she said, I believe that we are too close to the road for you to join us. Keep to the skies, people are taking notice.
Thorn ignored her and landed anyhow. He swung around and looked at her with one of large, red eye, his wings remaining unfolded. There is something you must see, he said.
Can you not show me from where we are? Rose took a bite out of a stale biscuit.
You need to see for yourself. He bashed his tail loudly against the ground, scattering a number of stone from the force. I need you to see it.
"Rose," Ailis said, looking up at the road, "What does he want?"
"He wishes to show me something, yet he will not say what." Rose looked at him sullenly, as he walloped the ground with his tail again. "It'd be less troublesome if he did."
Ailis paled slightly, but nodded. "If that is all, then, please, do go with him," she said. "You know how to find me. Be quick about it, we don't have much time."
"Much time until what, exactly?" Rose said, turning to scowl at the woman. "I wish you would tell me so that Thorn and I could perhaps assist you a little more in this hurried search of yours."
Ailis looked at her with a mask-like blankness. "Nothing you need to worry about," she said, waved them away. "Now off you go."
Rose sighed and climbed onto Thorn. Whatever it is that you wish to show me, she said, grasping ahold of the nearest spike that ran along his back, it best be important.
It is. Thorn crutched down the ground and jumped, pumping his wings powerfully until they were in the sky. The land lay below them was like a giant piece of patchwork, each home a stitching of thread, and Rose looked over it for a moment before closing her eyes, fighting off a sudden feeling of sickness. The scales of Thorn's bulk bit into her legs, making her regret the lack of barrier between them, and she tried to swing her legs out just a bit but this unbalanced her and she didn't do it again. Beneath her, she could feel the power of Thorn, each smooth movement of muscle and pounding of his wings as they hit the air. It made her breathless.
Though Rose was not paying mind to Thorn's directions, he was following a winding stream that led them away from the road to a small dwelling of trees, far from any human claim, where there the river widened to a pool. Thorn landed there, near that pool and for a time he looked around, searching for something. There, he said lowing himself to the ground. Look.
Rose opened her eyes and looked around at the small grouping of trees encircling them, the cold, clear water bubbling over small, flat stones, and in the distance a shepherd's hut sat squawky on a hill with white points of sheep milling around it. What should I be seeing?
Thorn grumbled deeply, and shook himself, exiling her from his back. Look, he said, pointing at the ground with his snout.
Looking at him unhappily, Rose stood and walked around him. On the ground was an indentation, and for a moment she could only stare then she started with shock and glanced at Thorn. It's belongs to a dragon, she said. She was very sure of it. The print looked very much like Thorn's with the exception that it was trimmer, the carvings from the claws willowier, and it was not so deep as his as if the creature were lighter. This is what you wished for me see, isn't it?
Yes, he said doubtfully. It may be a ploy, something to lure us.
It may as well be from something akin to dragon, she said. There are such things, I believe.
Thorn grumbled unhappily. I wouldn't know.
Rose looked at the print uncertainly for a moment in puzzlement, and then looked at Thorn. Let's go, shall we? she said, not wanting to put much thought in the prints. We shan't get much done merely standing here, looking at it.
Thorn said nothing, keeping his thoughts to himself and crouched down, allowing her to climb onto his back. He soon took the skies, and Rose once again shut her eyes as cold blasts of wind burned them. When they returned to Ailis, she didn't mention the footprint.
The following day, they kept again to the road, stopping only once to allow the horses to rest and for them to have a quick meal. They now began to pass more people; farmers headed to markets pulling wagons of dried produce pulled by tired looking ponies with rough hair and staring ribs, and the occasional oxen; two or three times there was a woman walking with a heavy basket strapped to her back, out of which poked heads of chickens, squawking in protest, or holding small, grizzling children that pulled at their skirts.
They traveled as fast as before, and Rose began to now feel the loss of Ailis' company; the breach that had been there before had now opened up between them, and the silence was almost complete. They spoke only at absolute need, and then it was as brief as possible, their silence soon becoming an impenetrable wall. The breach even extended to the horses, who bickered uncharacteristically; Arvid once bit Shadowless on the flank and was kicked in the belly for the liberty. It was only enough to wind him, to Rose's relief, but the women tended to the horses separately. Rose was privately worried about the black horse, whose coat had begun to loss its shine, but she could see very little she could do about it. Rose's only company was Thorn who knew her mood and unhappiness, and would lie close at night, and talk with her during the day, but it only slightly eased the ache within her. She felt somehow exiled from humankind.
Their ride was uneventful, expect of the city of Dras-Leona that always grew closer and Thorn's company became infrequent as more and more people began to fill the roads, and the days grew warmer and the land hillier. The weather held, each day drawing into clear skies, and a warming sun which glowed in the cloudless sky of unending blue. If the weather remained this way, Ailis reckoned that it would take them a week to ride the city.
"There is something we need to speak about," Ailis said, one night after they had set up camp. The sun threw fragment of red ripples into the sky, and there were no clouds at all, only tiny shadows moving over the earth.
Rose looked up, from cutting meat of two woodcocks, in surprise. "About what," she said blowing a brown and grey feather out her face, "do we need to speak of?'
"Rose," she said, folding up the map as if she were gathering her thoughts. "By now I should have told you this, though it is something you should have grown up knowing. I have never sought to hide it from you. Tornac dearly wished for you to know. I want you to know that he was sworn to not tell you. It's a hard thing to speak of, this, and I don't have the words for it."
Rose continued to stare at her, waiting for her to speak, blowing again at the feather that seemed to make a permanent home in her hair. "What are you talking about?"
"You do recall what I had asked of you before we set out of Urû'baen, don't you?" Rose nodded in confusion. "I ask it of you again, not to think of me with abhor until you know the whole truth. You will try to do this, won't you?"
Looking at her warily, Rose nodded, feeling suddenly very warm. She had moved unconsciously away from Ailis, and now sat with the bloodied knife gripped firmly in her hand. "What is it, then?"
Ailis looked up at her with thinning lips, and for a moment her eyes stilled on the knife. "Put the knife down," she said, paling as Rose crudely stuck it into the chest of one of the lifeless birds. "I'm sure the bird wouldn't thank you for that."
Rose shrugged. "It is dead. You might find that it cannot thank me for anything."
Ailis smiled, but it looked more like a wince. "Of course not, how silly I am to think otherwise," she said dryly, then looked at the creases in the folded map with blink interest.
There was a short silence, and Rose shifted on the ground. "Ailis," she said, startled the woman. "What were you saying? What should I have known?"
The look Ailis gave her made her look as if she were in pain. "I swear to you, Rose, on all that I hold dear that I'm speaking only the truth. I know I have neglected teaching you the Ancient Language, for my own reasons, and so my words mean very little but know they are true." She stopped and an uncomfortable silence grew before them.
Rose sat mutely before her, as an overwhelming suspicion and fear beginning to rise. Her heart was hammering in her chest.
Finally Ailis shook herself and stood suddenly as if she were anxious. "When I came to Urû'baen it hadn't been my intention to merely liberate the dragon eggs from Galbatorix, it would have insanity if it was. My focus had been you, it was always you. It was only by some rare chance that I was able to take the eggs as well."
Rose stopped listening and sank into a black reverie. What interest was she to Ailis? Had she been rescued from the capital merely to be thrown at the Varden as a trophy, until she was no longer useful? If so she was trapped, she had no place else to go, she hadn't the skills to make it in the wild with only Thorn, and she certainly did not wish to return the capital.
"Rose." She startled at the use of her name. "You've hardly heard a word I've said, haven't you? For the best I suppose, I'm hardly making sense," said Ailis. "I'll be blunt because I suppose there is no better way to say it. My birth name is not 'Ailis,' she is someone I spent many years to fabricate until I became her. My late husband had not murdered my child though I spent many years believing that he had. Rose? Please listen, this is important."
"Important for who?" Rose said, shifting away. "You may keep your secrets. I do not wish to hear them."
"You want to hear what I have to say, I know you do," the woman said. "When you don't pay attention, your face tells those around you all they need to know."
Rose closed her eyes and looked away for a short moment before returning her gaze to the woman she knew as Ailis. "What is it, then?" she said thickly. "If you believe that I want to know, then, please, tell me without further mysteries."
The blood drained out of the woman's face, and her hand fell nervously to her side. For a few seconds she was speechless. Then she gazed intently into Rose's eyes and spoke softly. "I was given the name Selena at birth," she said hesitantly as if she were afraid of the words she spoke. "You are the child I had believed to have died by her father's hand, but it was not so. I should have told you long ago, I've tried to but I have been remiss. For that, I apologize." Beneath the bitterness in her voice, Rose heard the anguish of an undimmed grief. For a second, as if she were a burning glass, the woman's emotions flashed through her. Then the woman looked at Rose through wet eyelashes with a strange shyness, and studied her for a moment, only to turn away disgruntled when Rose said or did nothing.
For a long time Rose couldn't talk, even if she wanted to, nor could she think, her mind completely blink. Then as the shock receded, she stood up and walked away into the night, the woodcocks forgotten. Ailis, or Selena, whoever she was, called after her, but Rose ignored the calls, and continued for a time in useless wandering until she reached Leona Lake. She stared out at its surface for a time, looking at the stars in the reflection of the sky, until she felt Thorn mindtouch her. As her mind mended with his her thoughts returned with vengeance, but neither of them said anything.
Rose sighed, pulling the feather from the tangles of her hair, and looked back at the encampment. She didn't know what to think, and allowed herself to stank into the grass as nameless emotions swelled around her. Through watering eyes, she watched the glowing sparks from the fire, a frail light in the empty blackness, flared up briefly filling the darkness of the world.
