Edge of Oblivion
Chapter II - Ileria
DISCLAIMER: The Inheritance Cycle is not owned by me. Christopher Paolini owns that universe which he created. That said, I have made this AU (Alternate Universe) and so it does not completely follow canon/the books at all.
Fifteen years later...
"Are you ready yet, Eragon?" asked Brom, scratching his graying brown beard as he called to his son from downstairs.
"Coming!" came the reply, followed by the sound of quick footsteps thudding on wood floors.
Eragon emerged from the stairwell and walked over to his father, who was standing near the front door. He was only a few weeks over fifteen years old, with brown hair similar to Brom's when he was younger and youthful, energetic hazel eyes to match. Those eyes reminded him so much of his beloved, and he He was of average height for his age, although he was still growing. He was rather on the thin side, though it was not because of want for food but more that it was his body type at this stage in his life. Brom was a Dragon Rider after all and though not all of the Riders were wealthy, Brom was at least well off enough from his pay and from his own family funds to feed them well.
They had a moderately-sized house in the outskirts of Therinsford, near the mouth of Palancar Valley. A sturdy wood and stone home that Brom had built with his own two hands, and maybe a good amount of magic too. It definitely helped to build it quicker. Eragon's mother, Selena, had a brother in the nearby town of Carvahall , a farmer, and he had a son there named Roran, who was Eragon's cousin. And the same age too. Though they lived in Therinsford on occasion in order to expose Eragon to life outside the Riders' realm, most of the time they lived on the Riders' island of Vroengard off the coast to the northwest.
Most people in Therinsford did not know that Brom was a rider, though there were a few who did and that was because they were friends of Brom and had sworn to keep that knowledge a secret. While the Riders were known throughout Alagaësia as a whole, only a handful were actually recognized by the people, and most of the recognizable ones were the Elders - the oldest, most experienced Riders who used to fly across Alagaësia when the land was still in turmoil. Thankfully, times were peacful and Brom wasn't in their number. Even though he was a senior Rider he liked to keep a low profile as well as keep his privacy.
Brom shook his head in mild amusement as Eragon hustled over to him, an apologetic look on his face. "Sometimes I wonder if I had raised a son or a daughter, what with how long you take to get ready..."
Eragon gave him a weak glare, crossing his arms across his chest, "So are we going now old man?"
"After you, Eragon. Ladies first," Brom said, opening the door and motioning outside with a mocking half-bow.
Eragon couldn't help but grin through the glare he sent his father, who barely suppressed his own smile at the joke; one point for the old man. He walked out, breathing in the cool, crisp morning air. The sun had only just risen and it was still quite dark in the valley as the mountains bordering the valley to the east covered the rising sun like curtains. The only evidence of it rising was the sky overhead getting progressively brighter and the visible rays of sun that blasted out from behind the shoulders of the earthly giants.
Brom locked the door, testing it to make sure it was secure and told Eragon to start walking to where they would meet Brom's dragon, Sephyr. About twenty minutes later, they walked into the small woods that followed along the feet of the Spine mountains. It was only about a half mile from the edge of the woods to the bottom of the mountains, which was why it was deemed 'small' for a forest.
Another fifteen minutes and they emerged at a clearing, where a magnificent dark blue-hued dragon awaited them. His breathing was rough and loud, rumbling even. He was as big as their house, perhaps even bigger Eragon noted, with sharp claws and dangerous-looking spikes all along his back from his head to his tail. Even larger, deadlier spikes protruded from his tail, which looked more like a large barbed mace.
Sephyr growled at their approach, and then Eragon felt the dragon's alien consciousness touch him, no doubt touching his father's at the same time.
You are late, he said matter-of-factly, his voice low and booming in Eragon's mind.
"Only by a few minutes," Brom said aloud, "You can blame Eragon for that though."
Eragon looked down slightly embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck, "Sorry.." he mumbled.
There was a rumbling and the sound of grating stones emanated from the dragon's throat as Sephyr laughed, baring his menacingly sharp teeth.
No need to apologize, little one. I was merely jesting. It matters little to me that you are but a few minutes late, one cannot always be on time. Besides, Sephyr said, I have learned not to let the little things get to you. It would likely drive one mad.
Eragon grinned.
Brom nimbly hoisted himself up onto Sephyr's back and beckoned to Eragon, who with practiced ease also followed him, sitting behind his father. Many a time had his father taken him for a ride through the skies on Sephyr, and he enjoyed the feeling of flying so freely in the open skies. He hoped some day a dragon would hatch for him, and he would be able to fly whenever he wanted. The thrill of flying across the sky was unrivaled in his mind. He adjusted himself to ensure he was settled onto the saddle properly and then buckled his legs securely to the saddle. His father checked to make sure he had done it correctly, nodding in satisfaction.
Hold on, his father's consciousness reached out to him then, satisfied that they were ready. Eragon grasped Brom's midsection tightly.
Sephyr unfurled his mighty wings and, taking a few steps forward began to flap them. Slowly, they left the ground and, skimming the treetops to keep low, the dragon banked around a small cliff at the base of one of the mountains and then began to ascend higher and higher. Soon enough, they reached even higher than the tallest of the Spine mountains and flew towards Utgard mountain which was at the mouth of Palancar Valley. The riders had built an outpost near the top due to the sheer cliffs of the mountain that prevented any but those with flying steeds to reach the top.
As they neared the outpost that was carved high into Utgard, Brom began to wave. Eragon realized that on the large, flat open space carved in front of the outpost there were two Riders and their dragons who were waving at them. He could not see who they were, so he asked his father.
"That is Hemfal and Tyrden, and their dragons Lantanos and Ciella," responded Brom as they flew farther away heading south, the older Rider not elaborating further.
Their destination was Ileria, the capital of the Empire. It was the birthday of the Emperor the following day and they had been invited to attend the celebrations at Castle Ileria. From Therinsford it was about a two day journey on dragonback.
Eragon closed his eyes as he focused on the wind rushing past him, his hair blown every which way. They went a little higher and flew into some clouds and he could feel the mist from them wet his skin and dampen his clothes. The sun was well over the horizon now as they cruised along above the clouds, making misty trails on top of them. He marveled at how much one could see from so high up, and though for the most part he saw the great plains stretch out before and underneath them, to their right ran the ridged mountains of the Spine that went all the way to the southern coast. In the distance to his left he could just make out the dark and dense foliage of Du Weldenvarden.
Later that night they landed in an area with some brush and an outcropping of rock to help shield them from the elements. They ate and rested until sunrise when they set out again.
Near the end of the day, with the sun on its way towards the edge of the world, Eragon sighted the grand city of Ileria.
The city was enormous, with great stone walls five maybe even six times the height of Sephyr and at least three times as wide surrounding it and protecting it from any who dared to assault it. Large stone buildings crowded inside the city walls, with the magnificent castle rising up towards the sky in the middle of it all. The magnificent castle was surrounded by its own ring of inner walls, and reached towards the sky to a grand height. Beyond the outer walls, Eragon noted, there were many smaller houses and buildings that sprawled out around the city - people who wished to live near the city but either could not find the space to live inside its walls or did not have the money.
Eragon had never been to Ileria before. He had seen it from afar the few times they had flown nearby, but now that he was nearing manhood Brom was beginning to take him to even more places so that he could get better acquainted with Alagaësia. He felt excitement well inside of him at the prospect of walking around in such a grand and ancient city. He wondered how many people lived there. Thousands no doubt.
Sephyr tilted to the left and downwards as he began a slow descent. By the time they were over the city they were only about two hundred feet above the tops of the buildings. On the far side of Irelia was a square large enough for a dragon even of Sephyr' size to land with ease. It had been built specifically to allow the Riders to land within Ileria. As the capital city of the Empire it was often visited by the Riders.
There were soldiers at the square to keep people out of the area. From a tall, rectangular building next to the square emerged a man with flowing blonde hair and a matching blonde mustache. He had steel gray eyes and a scar that slashed from above his right eye down across it and to his right cheekbone. He had a thick body, a warrior's body, and looked to be about middle-aged. He wore shining armor that shone like silver with small golden designs inlaid on it. A red cape flowed behind him, the end of it dragging slightly on the floor of the square.
"Brom!" greeted the blonde man with a wide smile as Eragon and Brom dismounted from the sapphire dragon.
Brom turned to Sephyr and patted him then looked towards the man, grinning himself. "Gildan! How are you my friend?"
They exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes as Eragon looked around the square. It reminded him of the Rider city of Doru Areaba a little, but it was far more cramped and crowded in Ileria. Beyond the guards who stood watch at the entrances to the square he saw dozens of people walking around, many of whom were enjoying the sight of Sephyr. There were definitely a lot more people in this city than in Doru Areaba.
"... and this is my son, Eragon." said Brom, the mention of his name bringing his attention back towards the men who were talking.
Gildan was smiling at him and extended his hand, which Eragon took in as firm a grip as he could muster without making it seem like he was trying to crush the man's hand - not that he could since his hand was much smaller than Gildan's. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Sir Gildan," said the young man, remembering his manners and inclining his head respectfully. Gildan was the commander of the Knights of Ileria, who were essentially the Imperial guards of the city and thus were the elite of the elite of the Empire's soldiers.
"The pleasure is mine, Eragon. Your father oft speaks of you. You have a good grip," the commander noted with approval as his gaze drifted over to Brom before returning to Eragon, "Your father is raising you well, I see."
"I try, Gildan. I try," said Brom dryly.
The commander let out a chuckle. "Now I won't hold you up any longer, friends. Go on and enjoy the festivities, for they have already begun! And I shall see you at the feast tomorrow." With that Gildan bade them farewell and walked back into the building where he had come from, guards standing still as statues around the entryway.
Brom turned to Sephyr and though they did not speak Eragon knew they were having a conversation through their mental link. Sephyr's head bobbed as if acknowledging something, then he turned a large silver eye towards Eragon.
Stay safe, young one, said the dragon and Eragon said that he would, thanking him.
With that the great sapphire dragon took a mighty leap and launched himself into the air, his great wings catching the wind as he soared over the buildings, barely avoiding hitting a chimney or two. A few seconds later he let out a roar of elation and then was gone from sight as he flew over the walls and away from the city. No doubt he was going hunting or perhaps meeting nearby with the other dragons of the Riders who were in the city.
"Well, let's go find your mother now shall we?" said Brom, gripping Eragon's shoulder and giving it a squeeze.
A breeze picked up his short silver and brown hair, though mostly silver now, moving them slightly. His blue eyes gazed at Eragon with amusement as the young boy nodded, preoccupied by looking around once more. They left the square, heading deeper into the city and moving through the many people gathered in the streets in celebration. Towering over them was Castle Ileria, and Eragon was impressed by how it looked from the streets of the city. A far different perspective from when they viewed it in the air earlier. It was magnificent indeed, and the tall spires of its towers seemed to scrape at the sky and touch the clouds.
Bringing his gaze back towards street level, he watched the bustling city as they walked through the streets. He was unaccustomed to seeing so many people all at once, especially since some of the streets they walked through were so small he bumped into someone almost every second it seemed. He made sure to stay close to his father for fear of getting lost and separated, though it would be easy enough to find each other since they could talk with their minds. Still, he'd rather not get lost in the first place, especially since it was getting dark.
By the time they reached the house where they were to stay, the light from the sun barely illuminated the sky. All around the city torches were lit and the hustle and bustle began to die down a little as the people got to their homes. Because it was the Emperor's birthday, however, things started to pick up soon after people got changed at home. Music began to play in the streets, however, and there was much revelry and cheer for after a while people began to start celebrating. For the next three days the Emperor had declared a holiday for the entire city, and the inhabitants were going to take advantage of the respite.
Brom knocked on the door of the house they were to stay at. After a moment, the door swung open revealing a man who looked to be the same age as Brom. He was slightly taller and had a darker shade of gray for his hair. A thick beard and mustache covered his face and he had heavy dark gray eyebrows that hung over brown eyes. His clothes were well-made and on his fingers he had some gold and silver rings, indicating he was an affluent man.
"Brom! Eragon! So good to see you!" he cried out in greeting, hugging Brom and then Eragon in turn. "My, you've grown lad! Let me take a look at you. They grow so fast, don't they Brom? The last time I saw you, Eragon, you were but the height of my knee!" and he let out a roaring laugh and slapped his thigh.
"Taric, old friend. I thank you again for letting us stay at your home while we are here," said Brom after the laughter subsided, inclining his head as he did so.
"Of course! Of course! Now come on in, supper is being prepared. Selena is upstairs, I believe. Gossiping with my wife no doubt!" he said as he waved them in.
Closing and locking the door, he ushered Brom and Eragon through the house and into a large living area with couches and a roaring fireplace. A nice fur rug, Eragon noted it was a bear pelt, was laid down upon the ground. On the walls hung paintings of various places and people, probably very expensive paintings, and over the mantelpiece there was a portrait of Taric himself along with his wife.
Taric motioned for them to sit, "Come, make yourselves comfortable. Supper should be ready soon. I'll tell the ladies that you've arrived and bring them down here."
Brom thanked him as he left, sitting down on one of the comfy chairs with a tired sigh. Eragon walked over to the lone bookshelf in the room, a tall thin one with six different ledges for books. He ran a hand along the spines of the books. Ever since he had learned how to read, he loved to do so when he found leisure time. When he was not training or doing chores, one of his favorite activities recently was to sit somewhere comfortable and read a good book. The stories about dragon riding heroes were a particular favorite of his.
The knowledge written in the pages of some of the tomes on the shelves was astounding, and more than a handful of them piqued his curiosity. One book on the shelf caught his eye: Eragon: The First Rider. He wondered if he could borrow that book and read it sometime. Although Brom had told him he was named after the first Rider, he did not really know much about that first Eragon. Perhaps when he hopefully - though according to his father 'eventually' but he was not so sure - became a Rider and started the training he would learn more about the great Rider.
"Sweetheart! Oh, I've missed you!" cried the voice of his mother from behind him.
Eragon turned with a smile as his mother walked over to him and gave him a bone-crushing hug, going so far as to lift him off his feet a moment.
"Mother... ribs... breath..." he managed to whisper, barely able to breathe. His mother was far stronger than she looked.
"Sorry, dear." She eased her grip, but continued to hug him as she kissed his forehead and asked, "How are you my darling boy?"
Eragon groaned inwardly. He loved his mother, but sometimes she went a little overboard with the affection, particularly when there was company.
"I think the boy's still suffocating, love," said Brom with a touch of humor.
Selena let him go finaly then and glared at Brom, though that faltered as she walked over and kissed him on the lips. "Don't think you've escaped my affections, dearest husband." She too hugged him, though it was a little more awkward since he was sitting and she was standing, slightly bent over to give him the hug.
A man entered the room and apparently it was the butler. He told them that supper was ready and that Taric and his wife were waiting for them in the dining room.
Supper went by relatively quickly and without event. Brom and Taric caught up with each other, occasionally the wives would join in, but for the most part the men talked with the men and the women spoke about whatever they were talking about. Before long, Eragon was shown to his room and after bathing and changing into some clean clothes he crashed onto the bed and promptly fell asleep.
-xxx-
Sunlight streamed in through the small windows and onto Eragon lying in bed, brightening the room and signaling that morning had come. Eragon slowly opened his eyes and stretched, yawning as he looked up at the ceiling, comfy under the blankets. Blinking, he momentarily closed his eyes for a few more minutes of shut eye when suddenly a mental probe touched his thoughts. He recognized it to be his father.
We leave in ten minutes, Eragon. Try not to make us wait.
Eragon acknowledged that he got the message and then his father's mental touch faded away. How did he know that I was up already? Rolling out of bed, he put on his shoes and placed the slim dagger he had brought with him on his belt. He had never actually needed to use it, but it made him feel safe and his father insisted he have a weapon on him at all times.
"Never forget that the world is a dangerous place, Eragon," his father had told him as he handed him the sheathed silver dagger, "It pays to have a blade at your side, just in case you need it."
He walked downstairs and found everyone in the living room chatting. The conversation stopped when he entered and greeted everyone a good morning, and only resumed when his mother began talking about something else that he didn't really pay much attention to. Eragon walked over to his father and sat down next to him on the couch, the two of them largely silent as Selena engaged Taric and his wife in conversation.
About five minutes later they finally got up and left, spilling out into the streets that were slowly beginning to fill up again everyone else began to wake. Many of those who were outside wore nice clothing as there were parties and celebrations all around the city. Today was the big day after all, and everyone had to look their best and brightest.
"What time are we supposed to be in the castle?" asked Brom as they walked down the street, his eyes always shifting around warily as they walked, searching for threats.
Taric thought for a moment, then said, "I believe that we are expected around sunset, for the grand feast begins soon after that."
They went to visit the marketplace first, which was brimming with people even at such an early hour. Though it was a holiday for most people, those who had shops and stalls in the city did not take a break from their work. This was when business picked up the most, after all, and they had to take advantage of this opportunity. People spend more when they are happy and when there is some special event going on, and they were not going to miss the chance to make more money out of it.
"Get your miniature statues of the Emperor! Come and get this special miniature statue of the Emperor! His exact likeness can be on your mantelpiece or on your desk!" cried one merchant, lifting a finely-crafted statuette for people to see. Many more sold other memorabilia to commemorate the birthday of the Emperor. The atmosphere was loud, exciting and so very much alive.
Eragon took it all in, still amazed at how many people lived within the walls of the city. The streets were going to be even more packed than they were yesterday from the looks of it. It was already tough to move around without having to rub shoulders with someone, and half the city was still not up and about yet. Never had he seen so many people at once, and it made him both excited and nervous.
Smoke wafted through the streets and the smell of cooking food mixed with other odors in the air. The smells of the city were as different as the sights and sounds. A patrol of guards walked past, their armor chinking like the sound of coins being shaken in a jar, their spears held up tightly as they scanned the crowd. A merchant and his assistant were unpacking his stall and getting ready for the day. Children ran around wherever there was space, or pushing through or in between the legs of the people in the streets, laughing and playing. A group of musicians in a corner were performing a fast song to which a group of people in front of them were dancing to, their feet moving in a flurry as the crowd either moved around them or stood and watched.
They wandered through the city for much of the day, with the women opting to buy a few small items here and there. Already Eragon felt weary from all the activity around him, his senses feeling overwhelmed. This was a far cry from the relative quiet of Therinsford or even Vroengard. Soon enough, the sky began to darken and again the torches all around the city were lit, although there seemed to be more of them tonight. The shops and stalls all closed down as the sun began its descent, but people still remained on the streets as there were sections blocked off for the people t have parties. The inns and taverns were crowded, and some people roamed the streets drinking and singing with no desire to settle down somewhere for the celebrations. Several street merchants stayed open, selling food and drink to the people, some even continuing to hawk their wears as the crowds slowly got inebriated.
The group meandered their way to the gates of Castle Ileria, the crowds thinning out the closer they got. Before long they stood in front of the massive gates, wide enough to fit two wagons through and still have some room for people to walk by on the sides, and they were two times the size of Sephyr. They were made purely of iron and steel, and they groaned and shook the ground as they moved.
The Knights of Ileria stood watch, guarding the gates. There were ten of them, their armor shining in the torchlight. Unlike Gildan, these Knights had heavy plate armor, underneath which was a layer of chainmail. Their large, distinct helmets covered the entirety of their heads and they all carried large square shields strapped to their shield arms. Each one held a spear, though they clearly had swords on their hips as well. The Captain of the Gate had a tall red plume on top of his helmet that matched his red cape, his features obscured by the full helm on his head. In his hands was a piece of parchment with lines and lines of names scribbled on it.
Taric went first and introduced himself and his wife, and they were let through after the knight checked the list.
"State your name," the knight captain said as they approached.
"It is I, Brom Holcombsson with mine own son, Eragon, and my wife Selena," replied Brom. A small line had formed behind them as some of the other guests to the castle feast just arrived as well.
The knight nodded, not even checking with the list, recognizing the name and finally the man. "My apologies, Rider. For a moment there I did not recognize you," said the captain as he moved aside to let them through.
As they entered into the courtyard, Eragon heard the captain repeat his challenge to the guests who were behind them. There were a few more Knights in the courtyard, some walking around patrolling while others stood still guarding doorways. Eragon wondered aloud how skilled they were in combat, and if any of them could do magic.
"Very," Taric said to him without looking at Eragon, "All these men were selected to be a part of the Knights. They must be both skilled with swords and with magic, and they must be devoted to the Empire. When they are inducted, they swear another vow in the ancient tongue that stacks upon their first vow of military service, for all of them used to be in the army."
"However," Brom added in a low voice, "Between you and me, son, they are far better with swords, spears, and bows than they are with spells and the Ancient Language."
As they were about to enter the actual castle, Eragon stopped and looked up, marveling once more at the sheer size of the stone structure. Then he quickly hurried to catch up to his family, who were already a ways ahead. A Knight greeted them at the main doors to the castle and told them how to get to the Great Hall, as he called it. Brom and Taric, it seemed, knew the way already but they allowed the Knight to inform them of their path anyways.
"It is to make sure that people do not accidentally wander off into some other part of the castle," explained Brom. "By letting everyone know where to go and how to get there, anyone caught going anywhere else is subject to a rather severe punishment, no matter the person's station."
They finally made it to the Great Hall, and indeed it was great for it was large enough to fit several houses inside, or even several dragons. Halls this large were a staple in Vroengard, but to see one so grand and so far away from the island was surprising. About a dozen long wooden tables were placed across the hall, each table seating about twenty. There were already a good number of guests there, and more were still arriving as laughter and conversations drifted through the air. Taric and his wife excused themselves and went off to go mingle, saying that they would see them later.
There were nobles of all shapes and sizes, with their varied expensive-looking clothes and jewelry, as well as distinguished guests and of course the other Riders. There were about ten of them there already, and they all greeted Brom with much enthusiasm. Eragon was again caught up in all of the commotion that he did not, at first, notice that there were elves there. Three, in fact. But he finally spotted them after a while, and he could not help but stare because elves were rarely seen outside of the great northern forest that was their home.
Two males and one female. Eragon had only ever seen the elven Riders, and even then only briefly, having never set his eyes upon a 'normal' elf. He admired their beauty, as most people did, for they were called the fair-folk after all. He wondered how old they were, for even after centuries the elves would still look as if they were still in the prime of their youth. The three elves were busy conversing with each other, and Eragon could not help but continue watching them with growing fascination.
The female elf, in particular, caught his attention. She had a regal grace about her, an air of authority that belied a high status. Although he noted that most elves held themselves similarly, there was something different in the way she acted that was accentuated by the deference and respect her two companions gave her. Eragon was quickly finding it hard not to look at the elf.
Her beauty delighted his eyes and he felt a sudden urge to go talk to her. She had flowing raven-black hair and stunning slanted green eyes that sparkled in the torchlight. Tall slender and tawny, with flawless skin, she was for him the most beautiful elf he had ever seen. Suddenly, as if she had sensed him looking at her, her eyes shot towards him and he quickly looked away. Slapping himself mentally for staring he walked over to where his family had taken their seats amongst the other Riders and sat down next to his mother, who leaned in towards him.
"Admiring the elves now, are we?" she asked him, amusement twinkling in her eyes.
Eragon blushed and hoped that it was dark enough that she could not see that he was. He mumbled that he was simply surprised to see non-Rider elves here.
She smiled and pinched his cheek lightly, "Don't worry. We shall introduce you to them later."
His stomach flipped at that and his heart pounded with both excitement and fear. Excitement at getting to meet this beautiful elf and to meet regular elves in general. Fear at what they might think of him. He suddenly wanted to know if his hair looked good and if he smelled okay. Shaking his head, he tried to clear those thoughts away but that was all he could think about as the minutes dragged on. Even when the other Riders spoke to him, which happened a few times, he could not fully get rid of the thought of meeting those elves later and it was evident in the distracted manner in which he went in and out of conversations.
It was then that he noticed the elves walking over to their table. Apparently they were to sit with the Riders, and his heart began to pump faster as he felt some heat rising in his cheeks. She was so close! He tried to calm down and told himself to keep his composure. He did not want to make a fool of himself in front of her. In front of everyone, actually. Taking a few deep breaths, he tried to control his emotions.
"Hail to the Emperor! Long may he live and reign!" cried a Knight who had entered the Great Hall, stepping out of the way as soon as he was finished.
There was a sudden silence as everyone stopped talking, the only sound coming from chairs moving as every person stood.
A few seconds later, the Emperor strode into the room followed by his advisers and some more Knights. He was a tall man with a balding head, the thin white hairs left on his head seemingly clinging for dear life. He had a short beard about half a finger-length long that was also white. Pale blue eyes looked out from underneath bushy white eyebrows. A large jewel-encrusted crown sat on his balding head and every finger on his hands had a ring of some kind on it, even his thumbs.
As he walked, the hall erupted in cheers and individual people greeted him as he passed by them. He smiled, waving his hand and thanking those who were greeting him.
Even though he appeared old, he looked like he still had a good amount of strength in him. He walked with purpose and pride and his back was straight and stiff, showing no ill effects of his old age. Settling at the head table, which was close to the Riders' table, he sat down and everyone else did as well. Spreading his hands out as if he were about to bless everyone, he said with a loud, clear voice: "Let us eat, my friends!"
And with that the food was served. Dozens of servants entered the room carrying trays full of food and drink. There was fish, steaks, chicken, lamb, venison, crabs, lobsters, and of course fruits, bread and vegetables aplenty. There were jugs of water, mead, and wine brought to every table. A big group of musicians had walked in at that point and begun playing some festive music to set the mood.
As he ate, Eragon stole a quick glance over to the elves. From what he had read and seen from the elven Riders, the elves did not eat meat. Sure enough, he saw that the elves that were there ate only greens and fruits with a steady grace and calm that was striking amidst the already slightly inebriated feasting of the humans around them.
-xxx-
After dinner, most people stayed in their seats and conversed with those who were at their table. A few people left to go enjoy the festivities firsthand in the streets and some moved around the hall to say hello to others they had not spoken to yet. Brom had gone to talk to some nobles at another table. A few of the Riders, after paying their respects and greeting the Emperor a happy birthday and thanking him for his hospitality had already left. For some of them, the Imperial capital was a little much.
Eragon had noticed that the three elves were talking to two elven Riders sitting near them. They spoke in the ancient language, and even though he was learning it he still could not speak it as fluently and effortlessly as they could. He needed more time and practice to improve, but his father had told him that he wasn't half bad at it. What with the books he was reading and the tutelage of his father and some of the other Riders who chipped in every now and again, he was able to learn so much since he started studying the ancient language only about a year ago.
"You know, if you looked at her anymore she might think it quite rude," her mother murmured to him, a small smile playing on her lips.
Eragon jumped in his seat a little, surprised at the whisper of his mother having not noticed she had returned to her seat next to him after talking with a few friends at another table. Again he blushed and he could feel the heat rushing to his cheeks.
"She is quite beautiful, isn't she?" her mother said softly, and all Eragon could do was nod as he forced himself to look away from the elf he had been admittedly gawking at since he saw her. He did not trust his voice or his mind in that moment.
A few minutes ticked by. Selena turned to Eragon and stood, grabbing him by the arm and bringing him along with her. He protested weakly, realizing what she was about to do, and lightly tugged to try and get away from her, but his heart was beating too fast and his nerves were tingling. He could not find the strength to tear away from her grip and so it was that his mother brought him before the elves. He immediately stiffened and tried to act natural.
Their eyes all turned towards his mother then at him, and he opened his mouth to say something but then words failed him.
Selena touched two fingers to her lips and said, "Atra esterní ono thelduin."
The elves inclined their heads and touched two fingers to their lips, each of them saying, "Mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr."
"Un du evarínya ono varda," finished Selena, and the elves smiled at that.
Eragon's heart skipped a beat, or so he thought, when he saw the female elf break into a small smile. Her green eyes bored into his, and though he wanted to avert his gaze he could not. He wondered if she was using magic on him, but discarded that absurd thought.
"It has been a while, Selena. You look well. How are you?" inquired the female elf, her gaze shifting to his mother.
Eragon's entire body was tightening. His rigidity was uncomfortable, but he found he could not relax at all. Why was he acting like this? He wanted to relax and be natural, but his body seemingly refused, the blood thumping in his temples.
"You are too kind, Arya. I am doing well. You should speak to my husband later, I am sure he would love to talk with you," Selena replied.
Arya inclined her head, "Then I shall speak to him. It has been longer still since I last saw him."
"And is this your son, my lady?" asked one of the male elves, looking over at Eragon and smiling.
Selena put a hand on his shoulder, "Indeed he is. The one and only. Aren't you going to say hello, Eragon?"
There was a pause, and though it was only a second or two it felt like an eternity for Eragon. He finally managed to say, "Hello there."
The two male elves looked amused while the female one had an unreadable face. Even her eyes did not betray her emotions.
"I am happy to meet you, Eragon Bromsson," said the female elf courteously, "I am Arya, and my two companions here are Fäolin and Glenwing." Each of them smiled and gave a short nod as she introduced them.
"It is... it is a real pleasure to meet you," Eragon finally mustered, "I have not met many elves who were not also Riders."
"We elves rarely travel outside of Du Weldenvarden," replied Fäolin this time, "At least those of us who aren't Riders."
His mother and the elves talked for a little longer before they excused themselves and returned to their seats further down the table. The whole time Eragon was willing himself not to look too long upon her, making sure to give each elf equal amounts of his gaze. Eventually, they excused themselves and split up.
"You're welcome," his mother said as they returned to their seats.
Eragon mumbled a sheepish thank you, his cheeks still somewhat red as he stole another glance at Arya. Her back was to him as she conversed with another elven Rider, her two companions not far away.
The rider next to Eragon, named Kristoff, clapped him on the back breaking him from his thoughts. Kristoff leaned close to him, his eyes staring at Arya, then he looked at Eragon. "Just some words of advice. Elves are a strange lot, Eragon. You should be careful around them if you decide to interact with them more in the future. But I can't blame you for having eyes for that one right there." He grinned and winked at Eragon, whose blush deepened, and then turned back to a conversation the other Riders were having. Something about rumors of a shade or shadow or something like that.
For the next half hour there was much drinking, laughter, and conversation and besides occasionally looking over at Arya, Eragon found nothing else to do and was starting to feel bored. Draining the last of the water from his mug, he sighed and began speculating whether or not anything interesting was going to happen. Right on cue, it was then that a servant loudly announced that the festivities were to finally proceed outside. There was another courtyard on the other side of the castle, and that was where everyone went. Big tents were set up, inside of which was more food and refreshments.
In the middle of all the tents was a large bonfire. There were chairs and benches that had been brought out so that people could sit, but for the most part it would be a standing-room only celebration. There was a juggler who juggled flaming clubs and a group of three men who were doing all sorts of acrobatics both individually and together as a group. There was a dart throwing competition going on as well as a few other sources of entertainment. For the most part though the guests merely mingled and talked with each other.
Everyone took turns walking over to the Emperor and greeting him, thanking him for his hospitality and his work and wishing him long life. When it was Brom and his family's turn, Eragon felt rather nervous and small to be meeting a man of such immense power and authority. Perhaps the only other person to make him feel this way just in being in his presence was Vrael. He wondered what he should say, if even he should say anything, but then decided to remain silent unless directly spoken to. That seemed like a proper course of action for the situation.
"Ah, Brom! Good to see you, good to see you," greeted the Emperor heartily, "It's been some time since you last graced my halls with your presence, Rider. I hope all is well?"
Brom bowed his head, "As always, it is a pleasure to see you, your grace. My apologies, but yes all is well, I have simply been very busy of late."
"Mmm... And this is your family, I presume?"
"Indeed, your highness. This is my wife, Selena and my son Eragon."
The Emperor, smiling, nodded to Selena, "My lady," he said in greeting, then to Brom, "You're a lucky man to have such a beautiful woman in your life." Then turning to Eragon, he added, "My! This does make me feel old, seeing how big your son is already. Your son here looks like he's ready for his dragon, I think. " He laughed a little at that, his eyes alight with energy.
Brom nodded, "Soon enough, I should think. In any case, we would not want to keep your attention for too long, your grace. The other guests may get jealous. We would like to express our warmest thanks for inviting us to celebrate such an important day with you and we wish you long life and more birthdays to come."
The Emperor thanked them. "I hope you have not found the hospitality of my hall to be wanting. And always remember that you are welcome here, Brom," he added as they moved away and someone else went up to the Emperor to greet him.
The rest of the night passed with little fanfare as Eragon was too tired to do much of anything else besides sit and either look around or talk with the occasional person who recognized him or his family. Eventually, they decided to retire and after what seemed like leagues of walking they made it back to Taric's home. The butler answered the door and soon enough Eragon was back under the cover and fast asleep. His dreams filled with elves.
-xxx-
Their stay in Ileria went by fast. It felt like yesterday that they had just arrived, and already they were set to leave. Selena and Eragon were to travel on horses back along with a caravan to Therinsford while Brom went off with Sephyr on Rider business. As their horses trotted out of the northern gates of the city, Eragon glimpsed Sephyr and his father fly high overheard. The blue dragon let out a roar that unnerved the horses slightly. Eragon wished at that moment he had a dragon already.
He knew his time was coming soon to be presented before the dragon eggs to see if one would hatch for him. Just thinking about it made his heart beat faster with excitement. He gripped the reins tighter as he imagined flying from place to place, free to go wherever he pleased and no longer needing to ride on horses. Travel would be so much faster and easier, not to mention the view from up there was far better.
Once they were a ways away, Eragon turned in his saddle to look at the city. It was still large even from a few miles away, but it was slowly shrinking back towards the horizon. Eragon's thoughts turned again to the elves he met, and in particular Arya. He wondered if he would ever see her again. Thinking about her made him grip the reins tighter. He really hoped he would see her again, sooner rather than llater. And perhaps on that next encounter, he would be able to say more than a few words.
Ileria was a distant blob on the horizon by the time they stopped to rest and camp for the night.
A/N: So whaddya think so far? :)