Darcie stirred to the noise of metal clanging. She had heard it before, but never knew what it was. She got up to look out her window, but all she saw was Kazryth in the fields, running around and trying to gain flight.

"Can a dragon grow overnight...?" Darcie muttered as she shook her head. He was up to her knee just the day before, but now he appeared to be up to her hip at least now. There was no way she would carry him around anymore.

Darcie's bedroom door creaked open as she turned away from the window. Desiree appeared to be holding men's clothes, or at least a men's top from what she could see.

"Good morning...?" Darcie eyed the clothes. Desiree chuckled, knowing what the girl was thinking.

"Good morning. And yes, these are your clothes for the morning."

"They're... they're men's clothes!"

"Technically yes but they have been made and styled to fit you."

"Why do I have to wear them?" Darcie asked suspiciously.

"Training."

"For what?"

"Combat with swords... or swordplay or whatever you wish to call it."

"Me... with a sword?" Darcie asked, shocked. "Stick I can see but..."

"You are to be in the training fields in half an hour," Desiree cut in simply. If Desiree wasn't someone close to Darcie, the nanny could've been punished terribly for cutting into Darcie's response.

"Where are these 'fields' though?"

"One of the guards will lead you."

"Why can't you show me?"

"I haven't a clue where this place is," Desiree said honestly. Darcie couldn't help but chuckle.

Darcie then changed quickly. Her sleeve was cut half-way between her shoulder and elbow to beat the sun already sizzling down upon Urû'baen. The neckline was just an inch or two under her neck. Thankfully she was given a skirt that just flared our from her hips enough so she could move around easily, and boots with a half-inch heel that stretched up to just under her knees.

When she looked in the mirror, she realized she couldn't have her hair flying everywhere. Desiree seemed to read her mind and start doing up her hair. With only ten minutes remaining, Darcie was ready to leave. Desiree left Darcie with the guard standing by her door. Silently, she and the guard walked through the halls and door until they were finally outside. In the middle of a grassy field was a barred in field that could fit thousands of people.

"Rider Murtagh shall be your trainer until further notice," the guard told Darcie as he opened the gate for her.

Darcie walked through and into the centre of the field alone. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the guard disappear beyond the tall grass of the surrounding fields of greenery. Turning back again, she found the field still empty. She sighed and crossed her arms, her foot tapping on the hard, sand-covered training ground. She stood impatiently for another fifteen minutes. She finally caught sight of Murtagh walking into the field with a sheathed sword in one hand and two thick sticks that appeared to be walking sticks in another.

"Had a good walk, I see," Darcie commented sarcastically as Murtagh neared. Murtagh mirrored her sarcasm in a responsive chuckle.

"These aren't walking sticks," he said. Suddenly, one of them came flying at Darcie. She caught it just as it was about to hit her.

"Nice catch," he said.

"What're the sticks for? And for that matter what's the sword for?"

"Which one of those questions would you rather have answered?" Murtagh shot back with a faint, playful smirk.

"I demand to know both."

"Snippy now, are we?"

Darcie glared.

"The sword is for you, it was made by the finest crafters to fit your hand and it is evened out for your height."

"Do you expect me to know anything about swords?" Darcie snapped.

"I don't, which is what the sticks are for."

Darcie's eyebrow rose in confusion. Murtagh sighed impatiently.

"Using sticks helps you get used to using swords. Both objects are similar, so you can start learning sword movements on a stick, and then when you come to the sword you'll know to work with it."

"How do you know this?" Darcie asked curiously as she tossed the stick from hand to hand. Murtagh's expression darkened slightly.

"I've heard stories and I started this way."

"Stories from whom?"

"Do you always have a question for everything?" Murtagh asked, not sounding snippy about it but more so curious.

"Have you lived in the darkness of ignorance for 18 years?" Darcie countered pointedly. "So who've you heard stories from?"

"Well first off I've heard you've had practices with sticks with guards."

"First off?" Darcie cut in. A slightly irritated look overtook Murtagh, but he continued.

"And... then there's Eragon."

"Who's... he?"

"He is the third dragon rider."

"His dragon is Saphira, right?"

"Yes. When he lived in a little town near the mountain range in the west called the Spine, her egg appeared to him. Days later Saphira hatched. The Ra'zac found out about this so they killed... his uncle in attempts of looking for him. The 'town storyteller' Brom found Eragon and found out about him the new rider."

"New?"

"The new rider since the Fall of the Riders," Murtagh quickly explained.

"How do you know this?"

"I kno... knew Eragon."

"How?"

"I didn't think it was possible to meet someone that had more questions than he," Murtagh muttered. "I met Eragon on his travels to the rebels called the Varden. I traveled with him to the mountain range in which the Varden live called the Beors, I was imprisoned because... because I'm my father's son really.

"Throughout the travels, Eragon told me stories about Brom and how he trained him in magic and swordsmanship."

"Magic?"

"You'll come across the secrets of magic soon enough," Murtagh responded mysteriously. "And he said how he and his cousin used sticks when roughhousing and he eventually trained with Brom with sticks and it proved effective.

"Does that answer your question?"

"I have one other question..."

Murtagh sighed. Darcie rolled her eyes.

"Just one. When my father said 'where's your pathetic excuse for a brother' and then you said 'Saphira was too fast for Thorn'... does that mean..."

"Eragon is my brother," Murtagh said with masked venom. His tone then changed quickly. "So can we finally get started?"

Darcie gave him a dirty look.

"Let's see what you know then."

With a flurry of movement, the two started attacking each other. Within five seconds, Darcie was on her knees and Murtagh's stick was at her side.

"Not much apparently."

Darcie pushed his stick off of her and got up. She flipped some stray loose curls of her hair from her face.

"I've had three previous 'lessons' with these sticks compared to your... many years. Did you expect me to know a lot?"

"No."

Darcie scowled.

"But I figured you could at least last more than five seconds," Murtagh finished.

"Well you're wrong apparently," she snapped.

For another two hours they kept working at stick-learning. Murtagh noticed how fast of a learner Darcie was when she (finally) put herself into it. It was also apparent she could bruise easily.

As Darcie got up from her knees after once again being forced down by Murtagh after a twenty second fight, she clenched her jaw in attempts not to wince. Murtagh took her arm and examined the bruises.

"What're you doing?" she snapped as she tried pulling away.

Murtagh kept a hard grip on her arm to ensure she wouldn't yank it from his grasp. His other hand hovered over a large bruise extending from her elbow to where he assumed was her shoulder, and muttered a few words in the Ancient language. A light illuminated his hand and passed through Darcie. An instant coolness her arm and passed through her body. The aches of the bruises and throbs of the recent hits from the stick had gone away.

"I expect to see you here at the same time tomorrow," Murtagh said as he let go of her arm, his fingertips grazing down her arm softly as he released it.

"I expect to see you here as well," Darcie shot back with a smart-ass tone as she passed him the stick. She expected he'd roll his eyes, but Murtagh merely smirked.

"See you later." He then walked away with the sticks in each hand.

Darcie's mouth opened, but no words came out. Her stomach felt light as she watched him leave, the warm sensation of his hand upon her arm, the way his fingers slid down her arm - it was emblazoned in her mind. Shaking off the feeling, she headed in the opposite direction towards Kazryth's barn.