Wow… and you guys haven't grown tired of me yet? Forty-one chapters! FORTY-ONE CHAPTERS!
I'll probably be freaking out on chapter… let's see… maybe fifty? If there are that many? (and there probably will be)
If only because there won't be much of Eragon left. :(
After spending the next hour and a half with Murtagh, Tania decided she should make sure that his brother wasn't getting into any kind of trouble. Murtagh laughed as she said that, but Tania noticed his slightly sad gaze as she left, and she told him she'd make sure Eragon came down to visit within the next day or two—even if she had to drag him down by his ear herself.
As she made her way back to the dragonhold, Tania reflected back on what had happened in the past few months. Almost half a year ago, she'd found Ophelia's egg, but she could still clearly remember it's pearlescent paleness before she had touched it. And then when the dragon had hatched, and how her eyes had been such a pure silver; colorless compared to the rest of her, yet bright. And their journey through the forests, and then meeting Eragon, Saphira and Brom on the plains; traveling with them, meeting Murtagh, grieving for Brom. And then their rescue mission into Gil'ead, saving the elf—Arya—in the process; their flight to the Varden; and, finally, reaching Farthen Dûr.
Never before had her world of roaming the forests, searching for game, and climbing trees to sleep seemed so small.
Lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice the Twins until she had nearly bumped into them.
They stood together, their shoulders meeting, a blank—but slightly irritated—expression on both their smooth faces. Their black snake eyes seemed to be trying to stare into her soul, trying to reach the dark secrets buried behind her walls.
She raised an eyebrow, nodded in a mockingly polite manner, and slipped past them, heading to the dragonhold. When she rounded the corner, Tania glanced at one of the polished-to-reflection columns to make sure they hadn't followed, then broke into a swift, silent run, her soft hide boots barely making a whisper on the glossy marble floors.
When Tania reached the hold above Isidar Mithrim, it was to find Ophelia stretched out in the mote-filled sunlight, the golden rays illuminating all of the colors that spiraled and swirled over her scales: nebulas of icy blue and pale gold; whorls of violets and rose reds; streaks of amber and green chasing each other in complicated dances; and rich, dark purples corkscrewing over her otherwise still form. Her metallic-shaded eyes were closed as she enjoyed the sun's warmth.
What are you doing? asked Tania.
One glittering silver and gold eye opened, the slit pupil in the center focusing on the Rider who had her hands on her hips and an eyebrow raised. Sunning.
What if someone saw you?!
I'm not sleeping, Tania; if I'd heard someone coming I'd have gone back to the cave, Ophelia replied grumpily, the eye rolling in its socket before closing again. The only visitors so far have been Solembum and Nasuada.
Solembum visited?
Yes; I believe he's still with Saphira, Ophelia said, her crimson-rippled scarlet tail flicking in the direction of Saphira's cave. Eragon got back a while ago, too. How was your visit with Murtagh?
Tania sighed, smiling. It went well. He's not in any sort of dungeon cell, thankfully. The Rider maneuvered around Ophelia's outstretched wing, settling herself into the space between her foreleg and her neck, leaning her head against her vibrant scales.
What did you do that took so long, then?
We just talked, Ophelia.
Hmm.
Tania frowned at her. Ophelia. We talked. Nothing else.
Alright, if you insist, the dragoness said teasingly. Tania gently smacked Ophelia's neck, bringing a round of chuckles from the dragon. Alright, alright, I'll stop.
Good. Tania nestled further into the dragon's warm kaleidoscopic scales, sighing contentedly. This was the good life.
On the morning of their third day in Tronjheim, Tania awoke encased in golden wings.
Ophelia…
What?
Oh, good. I'm not dead then.
There was a snort of laughter from the dragoness. What do you mean?
Tania yawned and stretched, saying, Well, isn't that what happens when you die? All you see is golden light?
Hmm… I don't know. What I do know is that you should probably do Ajihad's test today.
Tania sighed. Yes, we should. But before we do, what do you say we take a quick flight?
I certainly won't object.
Tania climbed out of Ophelia's embrace, then hurried over to where the saddle had been placed. Quickly fitting the straps over the dragoness's shimmering scales, Tania then mounted and strapped her legs in, watching as Ophelia's scales quickly turned from gold to black to match the walls of Farthen Dûr as she clawed her way up to Tronjheim's opening, fanned her wings and pushed herself over the edge of the cliff into a shallow glide.
They flew leisurely around the inside of the hollow mountain, dodging stalactites hanging from the cavernous roof and stalagmites jutting up like crooked, monstrous teeth. After a while, Saphira flew out of the city-mountain as well, Eragon on her back, and they flew together within the walls of Farthen Dûr like they had before Dras Leona.
After flying for a while, they landed by one of Tronjheim's four main gates—Ophelia landed as quietly as she could, gliding for several hundred feet before her claws even touched the ground, and then she bent her legs suddenly to deliver her weight evenly and silently to all four feet. Her wings she bent awkwardly to cover both Tania and the saddle straps from view, and the Rider leaned in close to her neck to make it easier.
Do you do that every time you land? Tania asked incredulously, dismounting when no one was looking.
Well, no, the dragon replied, usually I'm not covering the saddle as well.
Tania frowned. I hope we can find some easier way for you to do it. That seemed uncomfortable for you.
I'm fine, Tania, Ophelia said. I can manage it.
But—
Just worry about the test right now. You can fuss over my landing technique later.
Tania frowned worriedly, but gave in, coming to stand by Eragon and Orik. The other Rider was asking about Nasuada, and Tania knew that the young woman must have passed on her message to him as well.
"An unusual girl," answered Orik, glancing disapprovingly at Zar'roc. "She's totally devoted to her father and spends all her time helping him. I think she does more for Ajihad than he knows—there have been times when she's maneuvered his enemies without ever revealing her part in it."
"Who is her mother?" Eragon asked.
"That I don't know. Ajihad was alone when he brought Nasuada to Farthen Dûr as a newborn child. He's never said where he and Nasuada came from."
Tania tilted her head, thinking. She knew what it was like to never know someone as important in your life as one of your parents—and she knew what it was like to lose them after you had known, loved and cherished them. She was shaken back to the present as Eragon said, "I'm restless. It'll be good to use my muscles. Where should we go for this 'testing' of Ajihad's?"
Orik pointed out into Farthen Dûr. "The training field is half a mile from Tronjheim, though you can't see it because it's behind the city-mountain. It's a large area where both dwarves and humans practice."
I'm coming as well, stated Saphira.
Erago told Orik, and the dwarf tugged on his beard. "That might not be a good idea. Ophelia can hide—I assume she is here now where I cannot see her—but there are many people at the training field; you will be sure to attract attention."
Saphira growled loudly. I will come! And that settled the matter.
The unruly clatter of fighting reached them from the field: the loud clang of steel clashing on steel, the solid thump of arrows striking padded targets, the rattle and crack of wooden staves, and the shouts of men in mock battle. The noise was confusing, yet each group had a unique rhythm and pattern.
The bulk of the training ground was occupied by a crooked block of foot soldiers struggling with shields and poleaxes nearly as tall as themselves. They drilled as a group in formations. Practicing beside them were hundreds of individual warriors outfitted with swords, maces, spears, staves, flails, shields of all shapes and sizes, and even, Tania saw, someone with a pitchfork. Nearly all the fighters wore armor, usually chain mail and a helmet; plate armor was not as common. There were as many dwarves as humans, though the two mainly kept to themselves. Behind the sparring warriors, a broad line of archers fired steadily at gray sackcloth dummies.
Before Tania could wonder what in the world they were supposed to be doing—because she knew that picking up one of those maces would mean falling and breaking her nose on the weapon's metal head—a bearded man, his head and blocky shoulders covered by a mail coif, strode over to them. The rest of him was covered by a rough oxhide suit that still had hair on it. A huge sword—as long as Tania—hung across his broad back. He ran a quick eye over Tania, Saphira and Eragon, as if evaluating how dangerous they were, then said gruffly, "Knurla Orik. You've been gone too long. There's no one left for me to spar with."
Orik smiled. "Oeí, that's because you bruise everyone from head to toe with your monster sword."
As the pair bantered, Ophelia said, I like him. Tough, but a good person. Like you.
Excuse me? I am nothing like that giant! Tania retorted laughingly.
The man looked at the Riders again. "I'm Fredric. I've been told to find out what you can do. How strong are you?"
"Strong enough," answered Eragon. "I have to be in order to fight with magic."
He means with weapons, Tania told him dryly as Fredric shook his head; the coif clinked like a bag of coins. "Magic has no place in what we do here. Unless you've served in an army, I doubt you've been in a fight that's lasted more than a few minutes. What we're concerned about is how you'll be able to hold up in a battle that may dragon on for hours, or even weeks if it's a siege. Do you know how to use any weapons besides that sword and a bow?"
Tania saw Eragon think about it. "Only my fists."
"Good answer!" laughed Fredric. "Well, we'll start off with the bow and see how you do. Then once some space has cleared up on the field, we'll try—" He broke off suddenly and stared past them, scowling angrily.
The Twins stalked toward them, their bald heads pale against their purple robes. Orik muttered something in his own language as he slipped his war ax out of his belt. "I told you two to stay away from the training area," said Fredric, stepping forward threateningly. The Twins seemed to frail before his bulk.
They looked at him arrogantly. "We were ordered by Ajihad to test both of their proficiencies in magic—before you exhaust them banging on pieces of metal."
Fredric glowered. "Why can't someone else test them?"
"No one else is powerful enough," sniffed the Twins. Saphira rumbled deeply and glared at them, and Tania felt Ophelia shifting uneasily, trying to decide which of them to attack first if she had to. A line of smoke trickled from Saphira's nostrils, but they ignored her. "Come with us," they ordered, and strode to an empty corner of the field.
Eragon shrugged, and he and Tania followed with the dragons. Behind her Tania heard Fredric say to Orik, "We have to stop them from going too far."
"I know," answered Orik in a low voice, "but I can't interfere again. Hrothgar made it clear he won't be able to protect me the next time it happens."
Tania growled softly at the Twins' backs. If they tried to push too far with Eragon, she doubted both the dragons together could stop her from tearing the pair apart. She remembered what Brom had told them: Riders were stronger in magic than ordinary men. And with the help of their dragons—seen and unseen—she was sure they could resist even the combined power of the Twins.
Try to use as simple words as possible, Tania told Eragon, they might be trying to find more words in the Ancient Language than they already know.
They probably are, he agreed. When they cornered me in the library yesterday, the practically said so outright.
They did what?
When you were visiting Murtagh. They tried to get me to join the 'secret group' Angela talked about.
Hmph. And you refused, I hope?
You will see.
They reached the area the Twins had designated. They looked at Eragon and asked, "And how do you answer us, Eragon?"
A flat "No," was their answer. Tania smirked slightly.
Sharp lines appeared at the corners of the Twins' mouths. They turned so they faced the Riders obliquely and, bending at the waists, drew a large pentagon on the ground. They stepped in the middle of it, then said harshly, "We begin now. The girl will go first, and then you, Rider. You will attempt to complete the tasks we assign you… that is all."
One of the Twins reached into his robe, produced a polished rock the size of Tania's fist, and set it on the ground. "Lift it to eye level."
Tania narrowed her eyes at them, then held out her right hand and said, too softly for anyone else to hear, "Stenr reisa." The rock wobbled slightly, then smoothly rose from the ground. Before it went more than a foot, an unexpected resistance halted it in midair. Tania felt rage roar in her ears, and then she calmed herself, saying calmly, Ophelia…
Their minds melded, and the rock jerked slightly before moving smoothly once more to stop, quivering, at eye level. The Twins' eyes narrowed cruelly.
"Very… good," they hissed. Fredric looked unnerved by the display of magic. "Now move the stone in a circle."
It continued, often stopping so that Eragon was able to do the same tasks that Tania herself had done. The exercises quickly increased in complexity and difficulty, and Tania's ingenuity was stretched as she used as simple words as possible to complete them—though she spoke quietly, she doubted the Twins were above enhancing their own hearing.
It was when, after more than an hour—a long, hot, exhausting hour—when they had successfully completed tasks including manipulating water, casting fire, scrying, juggling rocks, hardening leather, freezing items, controlling the flight of an arrow and healing scratches, that the Twins produced a silver ring and said, "There is only one thing left to do. It is simple enough—any competent user of magic should find this easy. Summon the essence of silver."
Tania stared at the offending piece of metal with distaste. Somehow, she figured that this was far more than a 'simple enough' task—Ophelia warned of trickery abundantly. The only thing Tania could think of was combining ethgrí, or 'invoke,' with arget, but this seemed much more like a death trap than the other exercises.
But Ajihad had told them to do this, and he trusted the Twins… Tania took in a breath to invoke the incantation. Suddenly a clear, vibrant voice split the air.
"Stop!"
Tania's head whipped toward the source of the voice.
A lone figure stood behind them: Arya, the elf they had rescued. A leather strip encircled her brow, restraining her voluminous black hair, which tumbled over her shoulders in an obsidian cascade. Her slender sword was at her hip, her bow on her back. Plain black leather clothed her frame, giving her a humble look despite her arresting features. She was taller than most men, and her stance was perfectly balanced and relaxed. An unmarked face reflected none of the abuse she had endured.
Arya's blazing emerald eyes were fixed on the Twins, who had turned pale with fright. She approached on silent footsteps and said in soft, menacing tones, "Shame! Shame to ask of her what only a master can do. Shame that you should use such methods. Shame that you told Ajihad you didn't know their abilities. They are both competent. Now leave!" Arya frowned dangerously, her slanted eyebrows meeting like lightning bolts in a sharp V, and pointed at the ring settled in Tania's palm. "Arget!" she thundered dangerously.
The silver shimmered, and a ghostly image of the ring materialized next to it. The two were identical except that the apparition seemed purer and glowed white-hot. At the sight of it, the Twins spun on their heels and fled, robes flapping wildly. The insubstantial ring vanished from Tania's hand, leaving the circlet of silver behind—which she tossed on the grass. Orik and Fredric were on their feet, eyeing Arya warily. Saphira was crouched, ready for action, and Ophelia, still camouflaged, was in a similar position.
The elf surveyed them all. Her angled eyes paused on Eragon. Then she turned and strode toward the center of the training field. The warriors ceased their sparring and looked at her with wonder. Within a few moments the entire field fell silent in awe of her presence.
Eragon seemed to be dragged forward by invisible strings. Tania called after him sharply, but he appeared to be oblivious. She scowled. Men.
A large circle formed around Arya. Looking only at Eragon, she proclaimed, "I claim the right of trial by arms. Draw your sword."
And now we meet… *drumroll* ARYA!
Hehe.
Please review.
FF