Disclaimer: I own nothing but Salaya and the secret life of her Rider.
The butcher shop of Carvahall was deserted, save for its owner. It was late in the afternoon and Sloan was preparing to close down for the day and head home. At the moment, he was finishing up his task of preparing an order for a client down in Therinsford. Aside from the sound of his knife hacking meat up into tiny pieces, all was silent, and that was the way Sloan liked it. Calm and peaceful.
The sound of knocking on his door caused Sloan to stop his process of cutting and slicing, and the butcher scowled at the breaking of the usual peace. He glared at the door, already knowing who the knocker was. "Come in," he said roughly.
A boy barely into his thirteenth opened the door and walked into the shop. Nolfavrell looked around, his attention riveted on the sharp knife in Sloan's hand. He swallowed nervously, imaging the butcher growing tired of his presence and running the blade through him.
Sloan's alert gray eyes flickered from Nolfavrell to the knife, and he rolled his eyes. "Do you honestly think I'd kill you, boy?" he asked. Noticing the boy's frightened look, the butcher thought it was best not to dwell on the subject. "Well, stop standing around and get over here. Are you here to deliver the package Morn ordered or not?"
Nolfavrell hurried over, taking the small package that Sloan had left on the counter into his hands. He stared at the object suspiciously, almost as if he expected evil to crawl out of it. "This what Morn ordered, right? The slabs of pork that he requested for feeding the travelers that come to his tavern?"
"Of course it's the pork!" Sloan snapped. "Does old Morn really think I'd try and swindle him out of his money and give him some other meat instead of what he ordered for?"
The boy shook his head hastily. "I just wanted to make sure." Thinking it wise to leave before he seriously agitated the older man, Nolfavrell quickly threw the crowns that Morn had given him to pay for the delivery onto the counter and hurried out of the shop, leaving Sloan alone again.
The man sighed and shook his head, glaring at the door that had slammed behind Nolfavrell. Stupid boy, he thought. If he had a bit more of his father's brains he and every other young person in Carvahall would realise that I'm not some crazy old man out to kill them.
He was unsuprise when a feminine voice responded in a reproachful tone. Don't blame it on Nolfavrell. It's not his fault he's terrified of you because you're too brusque and anti-social a person to show the rest of the world how nice you really are.
Alir scoffed. Nice, Salaya? How can a man that murdered hundreds of innocent people in cold blood be considered "nice?"
Because you repented for your past crimes and swore to help a new Dragon Rider defeat Galbatorix when the time comes, Salaya answered. Besides, you always are so kind to me and Katrina. Why not show that to everyone else?
Alir went back to his task to chopping up his meat, shrugging. I never was much of a people person, Salaya, even before you hatched for me. And I think all those years of isolation up in the mountains killed off any chance I'd become a great conversationalist.
The dragon sighed and her Rider could feel her frustration coming off of her. Do you know how much of a bore it is to live in the Spine? she said, dropping the previous topic as she knew Alir could not be budged. All I do is fly around and explore, and I practically know the Spine like I know you. Can you please come down and visit soon so we can have a proper chat?
A smile tugged at Alir's lips and he grinned, although Salaya could not see it. As a matter of fact, I was planning to do so right after I finished up here. Meet you by the Igualda Falls, same as always?
Of course. Just make sure to keep an eye out for Roran. I have spotted him not far from our usual meeting place on one of the hunts he has with his friends.
Alir frowned at the mention of Roran's name, but he didn't let is ill feelings for his daughter's "secret" lover spoil his good mood. Instead he scoffed, dismissing the threat of being discovered with a wave of his hand. If I can fool the King into believing I was dead for over one hundred years, I can certainly evade some farm boy.
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In public, Katrina was everything a young lady should be. She was quiet and polite and never said a single bad thing about anybody behind their backs. However, in the privacy in her own home without the judgemental ears of her father or lover to hear her, she had every bit of a sailor's mouth her mother had.
Using some particularly colorful language she had often heard directed at others, Katrina nursed the nasty wound that she had accidentally inflicted upon herself with her needle as she tried to darn one of her father's patchy tunics.
Most important rule of sewing: never let yourself get distracted while handling a very sharp needle.
Unlike Ismira, Katrina really had never been a great seamstress. While she could do minor rips and tears without much trouble, the legendary feats of repairing massive holes without leaving a trace, like those Ismira had been admired for, had been lost upon her daughter. It was everything Katrina could do to darn Sloan's tunics, and letting herself imagine Roran while she sewed had been a big mistake.
Katrina took the patch she had been trying to sew onto the tunic and wrapped it around her bleeding finger. She got up, searching for the bandages she had stowed away for little incidents like these.
Had Katrina not left her spot by the fireplace and got up, she would never had noticed her father strolling by the house.
The small family lived at the edge of Carvahall in a tiny cottage that had three rooms. Sloan had often complained that the home had been too close to the Spine, although Ismira had loved the location as it was near the Igualda Falls, her favorite spot to pick wildflowers in the spring and summer.
Dressing her wound, Katrina wondered where her father was going. Sloan was obviously not stopping by the cottage, as he was already passing it and heading out west.
The girl's brow furrowed in confusion as she saw that Sloan was not heading toward any of the houses past them, but instead into the shadowy woods that were already darkening as the sun set in the sky above.
Why would he be heading into the Spine? Katrina thought. Father said he'd never go into there again after Mother died, but there he is, walking straight in the direction of Igualda Falls. Is he going there to mourn Mother?
She had half a mind to secretly follow her father and see where he was going, but she decided against it. Sloan was not the type to sneak around and do terrible things behind his daughter's back, and was most probably going to the Falls to mourn for his wife; who had met her death by falling over the cliff and snapping her neck.
Katrina shook her head, returning to her personal vendetta to rid those patchy tunics of their holes.
Father may do whatever he likes in those woods, it's really none of my business anyway. He just better not be meeting another woman.
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Unbeknown to Katrina, whose thoughts about meeting another woman were technically the truth, her father was hiking up the Igualda Falls to await the arrival of Salaya.
The Falls were a very beautiful place where water tumbled down a cliff at least half a mile high and into the Anora River. The area around it was untouched by man, with nothing but green trees and plants surrounding it. It was well-known in Alagaesia, and most likely the sole reason why the small village was known outside of Palancar Valley.
However, for Alir the beauty of the Falls was tainted and deadly. After the untimely death of his wife he could no longer look up at the awe-inspiring Igualda Falls and not see a delicate figure lose her footing and fall into the raging water below. No matter what people said about the place, he would never forget the lives it took.
Sighing, the former Forsworn abandoned his morbid thoughts in favor of watching the sky. When Alir had left the butcher shop it had been close to sunset, but now it was nearing the end of twilight. The sun was almost out of sight by now, leaving only a few traces of fiery red and orange behind. In the coming darkness, it was almost impossible for anyone to pick out the dark shape that had rose up out of the Spine and was rapidly coming closer.
Alir automatically stepped back, making sure to give Salaya plenty of room to land. His dragon might have once been small and capable of landing just about anywhere, but now she was over one hundred years old and took up a lot of space.
Thank you for taking my size into consideration, Salaya said with a trace of amusement in her voice. I would hate to accidentally land on you, dear Rider.
So you say, Alir joked.
Salaya was descending in a lazy spiral now, her dark gray form coming closer and closer. She gracefully landed on the cliffs of the Igualda Falls, leaving just enough room for her Rider to be able to get closer.
The dark gray dragon rumbled in greeting, rubbing against Alir with her massive head. Her ice-blue eyes calmly took him in, disapproval evident in them. You really need to exercise more, she told Alir bluntly. You're starting to look like a pig being readied for slaughter.
Really funny, Salaya, Alir said sarcastically as he rolled his eyes in annoyance. If I could practice my sword-play and my magic without being discovered, I would be exercising properly. He looked down at the gedwey ignasia that was forever stamped upon his right hand and sighed. Things would be so much easier if a damned new Dragon Rider just showed himself already.
I've heard rumours about a new Rider from trappers and people traveling through the Spine, Salaya said. There's been the same old gossip that can not possibly be true, but there's been more talk going around than us than usual, and I've heard several people discussing the topic.
Alir's head shot up, his gray eyes suddenly attentive. "What is the talk about?" he asked aloud.
There's been whispers of a wild dragon that roams these mountains who the hunters call "the Ghost the Spine." Salaya snorted at the stupid nickname. And, talk of a young man who rides a blue dragon that fought against the King's army somewhere in the Beor Mountains. It's also been rumoured that a Shade was present at this battle, and that the Rider killed it and earned the name "Shadeslayer."
"A blue dragon?" Alir murmured thoughtfully. "Could it have come from the same egg that Eragon tried to sell to me for meat?"
Possibly, Salaya admitted. She growled reproachfully, her eyes hard. I still find it foolish that you didn't take one of the world's last dragon eggs from that boy and allowed it to slip out of your grasp.
Alir shrugged. "I had no choice. If I had taken the egg, talk of it would have reached Galbatorix eventually. In no time flat soldiers would be knocking at my door, or worse, Ra'zac, demanding to know of what befallen the egg. Katrina and I would be taken in for questioning, and good old Galbatorix would have discovered what happened to the young Rider who served him all those years ago and mysteriously disappeared."
Salaya remained silent for a time, still upset about the dragon egg. Finally she said, Do you think this matter is worth looking into? Eragon did flee Carvahall with that old storyteller Brom and someone who the dragon inside the egg liked could have met them and became a Rider.
Her Rider stroked his chin in consideration. "This could just be another false story made up by some fanciful fool," he mused. "However, there is a chance that it could be true. There's no need to rush into this and jeopardize our cover and Katrina's safety at the moment." Alir looked at his dragon, silently asking for her permission. "We should wait and see if more rumours surface from reliable sources. If they are indeed true, Salaya, you know I'd leave with you without a moment's hesitation."
The gray dragon nodded her head in understanding. I guess I can stand a few more weeks of living in the Spine, she decided. However, I will agree to wait for you on one condition.
Alir winced. "What is it?"
That you agree to visit me more than once a month, and that we do this more often.
"What more often?"
This! Without warning Salaya bent down and seized her Rider by his tunic, lifting him up into the air. She swung her head around and placed him on her back, right between the familiar spot between two of her spikes. The gray dragon spread her wings and jumped into the sky, stealing Alir away from his mundane life if only for a few hours of care-free flying.
Alir grinned in delight, relishing the feel of the cool night air against his face. For now he could abandon his worries and troubles that came with his cover. He could forget about his butcher shop and Roran and drop the act he had to keep as Sloan.
For now he could just be Alir, with no one but Salaya for company.
This chapter's a bit slow and I'm not completely satisfied with it, but it'll do. Just wanted to show a little Alir/Salaya interaction and establish basic things and what-not.
Next chapter: Katrina becomes suspicious of her father and a Roran/Sloan confrontation.