- Windows to the mind -


Is he asleep yet?

The large golden dragon opened an eye to see him emerge from the dark forest. No, he grumbled, and Oromis felt the soft sounds of cautious but restless movements and of a window being gently opened echo in his mind through their bond. He has been restless the whole evening since you left, and sneaked out through that window when he believed I was asleep, but he did not dare to try and move far from the hut. He slipped back inside and closed the window just a few minutes ago, and I have not heard him moving since… You will probably find him in his bed, he explained and, after a brief hesitation, in a severe tone, added: He is keeping an eye on your movements, Oromis.

Oromis pressed his lips together, disappointed but not surprised. He has no need to behave this way, he sighed, more to himself than to answer to Glaedr, absentmindedly caressing the smooth surface of the slate tablets he was holding in his hands. Restlessness and lack of sleep are not crimes to hide.

His mind is not clear enough for him to understand that you can help him.

No, agreed Oromis bitterly, it is not.

He could perceive Glaedr's irritation toward that stubborn, irrational behavior as clearly as it was his own, but not even the emotions of his bonded partner could subdue or erase the pain he felt toward the situation of the young human who was under his care.

Not only Galbatorix seemed to be as much in pain as he was the day they arrived at Crags of Tel'naeìr, but Oromis had the grim impression that his condition was slowly worsening. He was not eating; he was not sleeping. And he was not trusting him to ease his suffering, crawling away from any conversation about the topic like a wounded beast, hiding in his own mind as if showing him his suffering was the same as showing his weakness to an enemy. Oromis, more and more frequently, had found himself wondering whether the human was simply dying of pain. Whether he was looking at a child killing himself in front of his own eyes and not doing enough to save him.

Glaedr gently wrapped his conscience around that of the elf, trying to distract him from those painful thoughts with his own cruder emotions. You cannot force your help on him, if he doesn't wish to be helped, he said. You can only keep trying, and you are already doing that… You are already doing everything you can for him.

Through their bond, Oromis felt his desire of having him closer, to hold him with his body other than with his mind, and gave into the wish of his partner, climbing on one of his muscular frontlegs and allowing the dragon to cover them both with his large wings. I wonder what he does wish for real. This fool behavior of his… What purpose does it have in his mind?

Glaedr emitted a low hum in his throat, and Oromis felt his mind melding with that of the dragon, flying back with his to the painful memories of grief-broken friends and disciples, of the raw horror they had seen awaiting those unfortunate souls that lost their bonded partner, and were not lucky enough to follow them in the void. Glaedr ripped his own mind from those memories the moment he felt Oromis following his thoughts. Perhaps he wishes for nothing at all anymore. Perhaps he is just trying to survive the pain, he finally said. Whatever he wished for when he asked to see the Council has not been granted him, and now he is here.

Here with them, Glaedr meant. Here with creatures he did not know nor trusted, here with creatures that had destroyed his last hope – the last thing his mind had managed to hold onto to survive the pain of losing Jarnunvösk – and left him with nothing but pain and despair and a mind that was not lucid enough to see through them.

Despite being wrapped in Glaedr's golden wings that hid the world from his eyes, Oromis shot a look in the direction of his hut, suddenly feeling the urge to go to Galbatorix. But it was a bad idea, and he suppressed it. Morning would come soon enough, and he was not sure how the human's already confused mind could react if he started coming to him at night as well, indirectly reminding him that he was being constantly observed. Galbatorix appeared to be still convinced of foolish idea that pretending to be fine was what he needed to do to… and Oromis was still not sure what Galbatorix was trying to obtain with that behavior. Dismantle his idea that his mind was damaged, but aside from that, what? He wondered whether Galbatorix had any plan at all, whether his mind was lucid enough for such a delicate reasoning.

He forced himself to rip his eyes from the direction in which Galbatorix was trying – pretending – to sleep, and flinched, realizing that Glaedr was staring at the marble tables he had placed in his lap. He let his gaze fall on the pale rectangles and he pressed his lips together, but said nothing.

Careful with certain plans, Oromis, grumbled the dragon. This may bite back at you.

I will be close to protect him and ensure that it doesn't.

Glaedr stared at him with one large eye, and the heaviness of that look slithered through their bond, resting on the elf's mind like an almost physical pressure. Do not pretend to me that you don't understand, Oromis – aside from you being way too old for these puerile tactics, if you start behaving like our hatchling Morzan I will start treating you like I treat him.

Oromis smiled despite himself. My apologies.

Forgiven, grinned the dragon. But remember what I said: you are making a hazardous gamble.

I know. I thought about that, you know I did, Oromis sighed, and tightened his hold on the slate tablets. As you know that I have to make a move, a real move, as Galbatorix refuses to do so himself. I need to shake him. Even when I push on him, he just… He fought to find the right words, but in the end he just let a rush of memories of the last few days flow through their bond, memories of himself and Galbatorix, memories of them talking and doing things together, memories of Galbatorix trying to smile and being polite, but never taking his hand, always pretending, and remaining distant, distant, distant…

…Suffers, completed Glaedr, finding the word for him.

Yes. Hides and suffers.

A wounded beast that feels a prey will panic and fight back if forced out of its hiding.

But Galbatorix is no beast, he answered firmly, but even in his own mind it sounded as if he was trying to convince himself as much as the dragon. He is a wounded human child. And since now I am his carer and teacher I must do what is in his best interest, especially if he is unable to do his best interest himself, even if in the moment he may not like it.

Still a hazardous gamble. This is not a common bitter medicine we are talking about.

No, but doesn't need to be.


«A fairth?».

The old elf nodded, holding the slate tablet toward the human. «Have you ever tried to make one?».

Galbatorix hesitated. He looked pale and unhealthy in the bright light of the morning, and he seemed, once again, to have had hardly any sleep that night. «I have» he finally said, but still didn't move to take the offered object. «But it was only once, and a few years ago, Oromis-elda, I am afraid».

Oromis smiled. «This is not a problem in the slightest, Galbatorix-vodhr» he said, encouraging and firm not to let the human politely back away from the challenge. «On the contrary, I would say that I am glad to hear you say so. I am, after all, a teacher, and you are a student… And given your vast personal preparation I hardly had the occasion to teach you anything until this moment, and I would be honored to guide you in this art».

Galbatorix's eyes darted between his silver eyes and the pale tablet, and Oromis noticed him frowning slightly before finally accepting the slate tablet he was offering him. «Thank you, Oromis-elda. I appreciate your help».

Again, that calm, courteous formality. Again, that tone of voice that made it sound as if he was forced to accept – which was true, in a certain way, Oromis reminded himself, but still it was part of much more worrying pattern.

He nodded and made a gesture toward the stack of blank fairth he had put on the table. «Do you remember the words?».

Galbatorix nodded, and, when Oromis looked expectantly at him, recited in the Ancient Language: «"Let that which I see in my mind's eye be replicated on the surface of this tablet"».

«Very well, Galbatorix-vodhr» approved the elf. «Now, as you said that you already possess some familiarity with this practice, challenge yourself, Galbatorix-vodhr».

…And show me how your mind works.

Be careful, growled Glaedr in his mind.

Oromis, and Glaedr through his eyes, carefully observed the young human looking around, almost lost, trying to find something to replicate in a fairth. He could barely imagine how difficult and frustrating that task appeared to his confused mind, fogged and weakened by weeks of lack of sleep and of proper alimentation, and stressed by Galbatorix's obsession with appearing perfect and controlled. By how Galbatorix was moving, turning his head one way and then another, moving a step to one direction and stopping abruptly to look around again, Oromis could clearly tell that he was already starting to realize that there was no way for him to keep his mask unbroken, with this task. There was no correct answer to that question, no possibility of building his actions with precise care to give away only what lie he wanted him to see, nothing to bend and twist with that silver tongue of his.

The art of making a fairth ran on deeper, more spontaneous current of magic. Words could not guide it, direct it, tell the magic what to show on the pale tablet. Words could only tell the slate tablet to accept the magic, awake the colored inks sealed into it… It was the mind that guided the flow, the emotions that composed the picture. Emotions could not lie – they could be hidden, refused, controlled, but never bended, because they came from the most natural and spontaneous part of someone's self, that part that was for real, if such thing existed, a window on a person's soul. It was technically possible to bend this art, of course, like any other element of the world, but to do so there was required a clarity of mind and a firmness of spirit that the human certainly had no way to achieve in his current condition.

And Galbatorix was realizing all this, now. Oromis could read it in his frantic movements, in the way he could not avoid sending quick glances to his direction, almost as if he was feeling pressed by his own presence, pressed to make a choice, to pick a direction, when the only direction he wanted to take, the only direction he felt safe was now precluded to him.

Oromis took a blackberry in his fingers, pretending to observe the soft dark surface to try and give Galbatorix some space to arrange his thoughts without feeling constantly watched, content to observe the human with his other senses only. Long minutes passed before Oromis finally felt him moving slowly to a precise direction toward the trees, and looked up when he was certain that the human could not directly see him.

Galbatorix stopped almost at the edge of the clearing, and kneeled to observe something on the ground. Flowers? That was what he had settled for? Innocent enough as a subject, almost banal, and easy to focus on and to reproduce for a first try. Oromis remembered having already caught Galbatorix observing those particular pink-pearl colored flowers. They were the same color as…

When he caught the sight of a glister in his right palm, Oromis silently got up from his chair, waiting for the human to show him his work.

But Galbatorix didn't came. He didn't move, not even when the elf called his name to catch his attention, nor he gave any indication of having heard him.

Oromis raised an eyebrow and moved to reach him. «Galbatorix-vodhr?» he called again as he approached him, careful not catch him by surprise.

Again, Galbatorix gave no sign of having heard him, until Oromis was almost right beside him. Slowly, he lifted his eyes on the elf, but they were unfocused, as if he was lost in his mind.

«Are you well, Galbatorix-vodhr?» he asked gently.

The human blinked, and pressed his lips together for an instant before taking a silent deep breath and getting up. « I… Yes, Oromis-elda. Forgive me, I was just…».

«Worry not» he reassured him, before slowly moving his hand toward the fairth. «May I see?».

Galbatorix flinched. «Oromis-elda, I… This is not…» he stuttered, tightening his hold on the fairth. «May I try again, please?».

Oromis hesitated, disappointed at the idea of not seeing the result of that exercise and vaguely irritated at being talked back by someone who was by all means his student – something that he would never allow on normal circumstances – but in the end he nodded. After all, this was the first time Galbatorix made an open request, an open asset of will instead of meekly accepting everything he suggested, and if this sole fact was an indication of how important it was for him, then answering with some flexibility could do them both good, in the long run. This was maybe one of the opportunities he was waiting for: to show Galbatorix that he was more than willing to leave him some reasonable space of choice, and so to encourage Galbatorix to voice his thoughts again, in the future, something he desperately needed to form a bond of trust with him.

«Of course, Galbatorix-vodhr» he said, and was pleased to see the relief that passed on the face of the human.

As he passed him another blank table, Oromis did not doubt for a moment that his second attempt was going to be worse than the first one. If Galbatorix had been anxious before making the first fairth, now he was likely panicked, and whatever he had represented on that fairth was now probably hunting him, adding even more pressure to a task that Oromis had intentionally chosen to be out of reach for his wounded mind.

Oromis wondered whether Galbatorix had failed to realize it or was only deceiving himself. Either way, he was going to face the harsh truth soon.

Perhaps I should have told him to leave that fairth here, he said as he sat down at the table, feeling a sting of pity for the human despite himself. Despite realizing that pushing him like that was necessary for his own good, seeing him in such a state brough him nor satisfaction nor relief. Holding it so close will only make it more difficult for him to focus on what he is doing now.

Glaedr snorted. Wherever he was, Oromis could feel that he was laying in the sun. We both know he would have never left it to you. You could have sworn to him in the Ancient Language that you were not going to peek and he would have still been convinced of the contrary. Also, the dragon added, he probably wants both the fairth at hand for when he will have to show you one.

I do not have the slightest doubt in my mind that he does, commented Oromis. I only hope he does realize that I am not going to let him fool me. I'd prefer not to force my authority on him.

Glaedr remained silent, but Oromis could tell that the dragon agreed with him. A moment later he felt Glaedr stretch his massive wings and lie them open on the ground to better catch the warmth on their membranes. You already forced your authority on him, Oromis. For some reason I doubt he's doing this of his own free will.

Oromis pressed his lips together, feeling the memory of the displeasure Glaedr expressed that night resurfacing and carrying with it a much unwelcome sense of anxiety. He tried to push it aside the best he could. You know what I mean.

The dragon hummed, and seemed to be about to answer when Oromis felt a sudden gasp coming from the clearing in front of him. He immediately lifted his gaze, and was unsurprised to find Galbatorix once again kneeled in from of the pink-pearl flowers. Even if could not tell for sure from that point of view, Oromis was almost certain that his hands were trembling, and he distinctly saw Galbatorix's head moving slightly, as he likely moved his eyes from the new to the old fairth.

Oromis got up, this time not expecting the human to come to him spontaneously. «Galbatorix-vodhr?» he called, observing cautiously his movements as he approached. «What have you wrought?».

He was almost right behind him when Galbatorix jolted and sprang to his feet, face pale and eyes wide, holding the two fairth close to his chest. Oromis stopped walking immediately in front of that reaction.

At Glaedr's thought, in his mind flashed the image of a frantic deer trapped against a stone wall.

I am not going to eat him, Glaedr.

But does he know that?

Judging by the expression on his face, he probably didn't. He was shaking. But, the despite the pity he felt for the broken child, Oromis could not allow the fear of the human to dominate them both. «Galbatorix-vodhr?» he tried again, in his warmest tone, and gestured for him to pass the fairth.

Galbatorix just opened his mouth, without emitting any sound, his lips moving slightly as if he was trying to say something but could not formulate the words. Almost imperceptibly he shook the head.

«There is no reason to be afraid. I only wish to see so I can offer you my help and advice» he tried to reassure him.

But he was not talking about the fairth, and Galbatorix seemed to know it as much as he did. His black eyes darted downwards, toward the slates in his hands, and then back on the elf as he seemed to be desperately looking for a way out. But there was none, and, even if there had been one, Oromis doubted that he was lucid enough to formulate precise thoughts right now.

He took a slow step toward the human, and was pleased to see that Galbatorix remained still. The human's eyes darted downwards, then on the hand that was asking for his work and down again. Finally, slowly, he looked up at him.

Oromis gave him an encouraging smile, and, carefully observing his expression, moved to take the fairth. Having Galbatorix spontaneously handing it to him would have been better, but, given the circumstances, probably by allowing him to take it Galbatorix was already doing more than he felt comfortable doing. For now, that was enough.

Had he not been so focused on Galbatorix's reactions and expressions, had he not be so intent on observing his movements to see whether Galbatorix would try and offer him the first fairth instead of the second, probably he would have followed his eyes with more attention, and would have seen the stone and prepared himself. But he didn't, and, when Galbatorix snapped, he reacted half a second too late.

The two fairth crashed on the ground, the pictures shattering in a thousand useless fragments against the sharp stone.

Oromis gasped, shocked and startled by that sudden gesture. For a moment, both he and the human observed the now blank fragments among the grass.

«Galbatorix-vodhr!» he snapped, before he could refrain himself.

Galbatorix winced and recoiled, his breath halted and he looked at him with an expression on his face that could only be shock and blind terror. An instant later his eyes moved back on the fragments, as if he himself couldn't explain his own actions. His hands were shaking uncontrollably.

Oromis pressed his lips together, forcing his own indignation and frustration under control. Of all the possible reactions the human could have, that was the one he had not taken in consideration. Not a direct act like that, not a such a violent challenge to his authority, not after weeks in which the human had tried his absolute best to be calm and polite and obedient. But losing his patience would bring him nowhere.

«Galbatorix-vodhr, that was uncalled for» he reprimanded him, calmer but firm. Then, in a gentler tone, added: «You need to calm yourself. Breath, deep breaths».

But Galbatorix merely looked at him, eyes wide and unfocused.

Lifting a finger in his line of vision to catch his attention, Oromis pointed toward the table. «Let's go sit down, we need to talk» he said, and moved to reach his shoulder.

For a moment, Galbatorix followed his hand with his eyes, almost uncertain of what it meant, but as Oromis was about to touch him he suddenly flinched.

With a sharp cry, he slapped his hand away and jumped away from him, barely managing to keep his balance as he stumbled upon his own feet.

This is not good at all.

«Galbatorix-vodhr–».

Galbatorix turned and ran in the woods.


Do you want me to find him for you?

Oromis sighed and shook his head. Even if they were by no mean close, Glaedr would still perceive his gesture through their connection. He will return on his own, he said, looking through the window. The clearing outside his hut was tinted of warm colors of the sunset, and, despite the confidence he was trying to transmit through his mental voice, Oromis was starting to feel slightly nervous. The forest is too heavily guarded for him to go anywhere, and none of the wards I put around the Crags of Tel'naeìr has been crossed, he explained, more to himself than to the dragon. He's still close. He knows he can go nowhere but here. He'll return.

Glaedr hesitated, his mind radiating a vague sense of disapproval, but through their bond Oromis perceived him flying directly toward his hut instead of slowing down to look for Galbatorix like he would have preferred to do. Oromis could feel that the dragon was still thinking about his hazardous gamble of that morning, but Glaedr avoided bringing it up and instead asked: How can you be so sure?

Where can he go if not here? What else can he do? He is smart enough to know that he will never manage to pass Gilderien's guard. It would be madness to even try, in his condition. He'd get caught and brough back to us, and it is not in his interest to look insane.

You're being too logic, grumbled Glaedr. Galbatorix is anything but logic now. What he sees is twisted by pain, and now he is also scared. Today you tried to force him to show his emotions, and in his desperate attempt to hide them he ended up showing that exact side of his mind he was trying to hide from us. Given how fixed he has been on keeping an exemplary behavior in front of us, as if his life depended on it…

Oromis frowned, Galbatorix's panicked expression suddenly flashing before his eyes. His trembling hands. Had it been pain caused by what the fairth had showed him, or fear at what was going to happen to him should his mask fall? He has convinced himself that he lost everything and now will be considered insane and exiled.

I would be surprised if he didn't.

Oromis stopped the urge to sigh again, a sense of guilt suddenly pressing over his chest, and shot a look at the dinner he had prepared for Galbatorix and himself, that was waiting for them on the table. I hoped he would return by himself. That would have been ideal for all of us, he admitted, getting up from his armchair. There were the faint thumps of Glaedr's wings coming from the sky. But I guess you are once again right.

Glaedr's mind radiated warm satisfaction, and an instant later he deepened their bond to let Oromis feel the rush of the wind as he dived toward the clearing in front of his hut.

Oromis came out the door right in time to see the dragon land. He couldn't help smiling as he walked towards him, lifting his hands to caress the rough scales on his snout.

Are you sure you do not want me to find him for you?

Oromis shook his head, and, as Glaedr lied down, climbed on one of his frontlegs. It will be easier and less stressful this way, he said, crossing his legs and closing his eyes. Just give me a few minutes…

Even after Jarnunvösk's death, Galbatorix still held in him traces of her magic, and it was a magic like nothing else, that only Riders possessed. A magic of the purest form, closest to nature than any other. Nature perceived it and, especially there, in the Du Weldenvarden, where life and magic were deeply interlaced, reacted to it and to the passage of those who possessed it.

Centuries of meditation allowed him to touch the mind of the living creatures for a great distance around him. Gently, careful not to disturb their lives, he brushed their conscience until he found the ones that carried the unconscious sensations he was looking for. Deepening the contact with those, he swiftly moved from the keen eyes of a hawk to the anxious mind of a rabbit, until he found himself a small squirrel, that suddenly jolted a few feet along branch it was sitting on when a large shadow passed a bit too close under its resting place.

Found him, announced Oromis, slipping away from his state of meditation.

Around him, the reddish-orange light of the sunset had mutated in a dark purple color, that was on its way to become blue and black. He sighed. Night was going to fall on them before he could even reach Galbatorix, let alone return home.

Examining his memories, Glaedr located the place Oromis had found. I will carry you, at least on the way there. It will be faster, he announced, and gently pushed the elf down from his frontleg and towards the hut. Get the saddle.


It took barely a few minutes to cover the distance from his hut to where he had spotted Galbatorix, but the sky had already darkened by the time they landed.

Unsure of how the human could react seeing the large golden dragon diving on him, Glaedr let Oromis dismount in a clearing at a safe distance and cover the rest of the distance on foot. It was a difficult terrain, with a thick vegetation that made it easy to lose the orientation or slip and get injured.

As he moved, Oromis glanced back above his own shoulder to where the Crags of Tel'naeìr were, pondering. What was Galbatorix doing there?

He stopped and closed his eyes, searching with his mind. It was much easier now that he had a general direction, and he was quickly able to spot Galbatorix in the eyes of an owl. He had moved from the point he was the last time he had checked on him. The owl soared the sky above the human long enough to allow Oromis to see that Galbatorix was going uphill, toward…

Oromis slipped back in himself and turned to where he had spotted Galbatorix, frowning. There was hardly anything in that direction, only the deepest parts of the forest. Galbatorix was moving nor towards the Crags of Tel'naeìr nor towards south, which was his best try to escape the elven realm, should he want to try.

Was he lost? It was entirely possible. That terrain was similar enough to the path they had taken the day he led him to the Crags of Tel'naeìr, and Oromis could see how a human, unused to the vast, savage vegetation of the Du Weldenvarden, could easily lose his way. Even he, used as he was to that territory, needed to check his path to make sure he was going in the right direction. Now he was glad that Glaedr had convinced him to go look for the human.

He spotted Galbatorix a few minutes later. He looked exhausted and tense, and Oromis thought it to be a good idea to announce himself from a distance not to spook him too much.

«Galbatorix-vodhr?».

Despite his soft tone, the human jumped, his hand flinching as if to grab a sword he was not carrying by his side. Spotting him seemed to do little to calm his nerves, but at least his expression changed from fear to cautiousness.

Oromis took a step forward, approaching him as he would a scared animal. But if an animal desperate to return home or an animal desperate to escape, he couldn't tell. «I was waiting for you to return».

Galbatorix hesitated, as if he was waiting for him to say something else. When the elf didn't spoke, he bowed his head: «I beg your pardon, Oromis-elda. My behavior was inexcusable, I…».

«Your behavior was rather foolish» recognized Oromis, and couldn't help but notice that Galbatorix was already starting to slip back in his usual, formal behavior. But it was still better than what he had seen that morning.

«I apologize».

«You already apologized, if I remember right».

Silence fell between them, and for long minutes there was no sound but the whispers of the nature around them.

There a space in the foliage right above his head, a window to the sky that allowed him see the bright, silver stars shining in the deep darkness of the night. He couldn't help but wonder if there was something that still shone, in Galbatorix's torn soul. Whatever the answer was, he needed to keep trying to find it. Nothing ever comes without failure.

...But I need to find another way.

«Shall we return home, Galbatorix-vodhr?».

Galbatorix didn't answer, and, when Oromis tried to touch on the shoulder moved to avoid his fingers. But he followed him anyway.


End of the chapter


Author's notes:

This took forever. I am so very sorry – huge writer's block.

A special thank you to all the people who put What teachers are for in their followed/favorite stories. I wish I could hug you all one by one.

Ikainica: Thank you! Eh, Morzan is one of my absolute favorites of the old generation and Brom… well, they're a bit of a buy one get another one for free, aren't they?

Dream Plane: Eh, yeah. Why would it be so bad for Galbatorix to get another dragon? Unfortunately, in canon it is never specified, and it is a bit of a plot hole. Especially if we consider that it is the dragon that chooses the Rider, and so if a young dragon had hatched for Galbatorix it meant that that dragon wanted to stay with him, no matter his state of mind. In this story, Oromis refused him to try for another dragon because he felt that Galbatorix was not lucid. He was trying to get back Jarnunvösk by getting another dragon, and this is definitively not healthy, because the new dragon would have never been able to be Jarnunvösk. And in the long run Galbatorix and that dragon would have both suffered greatly. Oromis was trying to protect them both.

(I recently discovered that you can actually answer to reviews via PM *facepalm*. I guess this is the last chapter in which I answer this way xD)

…So, guys. This is it for the fourth chapter! Alla prossima!