Chapter Twenty-Four

Faith Encarmine

Disclaimer: See Chapter One

'You do realise that every person who has ever wielded this blade has died by it? It's wyrd is a dark one, do you really believe that it is wise to force this on this girl?' Asked Eragon, making a series of gestures over a casket of jet as part of it's unlocking ritual.
'I realise that master, but the girl's punishment was left at my doorstep, and I do feel a kinship with her, and if she'll eventually die by this sword, so be it, you keep saying yourself that there are ways to cheat death's embargo on magic, and I myself am an example of that.' Aragon replied.
'It is still a rare thing for a Rider to be forced to carry Gurthang, the Iron of Death, but cursed with Eöl's cursed, reforged black blade from the moment they enter our order…' Eragon said, before drawing his wand and dragging the tip along the centreline of the casket.
With a muted crack, the casket's lid broke down the middle and the two halves of the lid swung aside, revealing a black bladed, unadorned hand-and-a-half sword. Even the hilt wrapping and the pommel were stained from brightness by a black hue to the metal.

'Where did you find this blade anyway?' Asked Aragon curiously.
'A very long time ago in the blessed realm, from the plunder of goblins, after they'd sacked the tomb of it's last wielder and victim, Túrin Turambar I believe his name was, he slew a dragon with darkness in it's heart before the dragon's master drove him to suicide.' Eragon explained. 'Hence, I thrust it on Riders who have shamed themselves, for a Rider's blade that has tasted a dragon's blood is something to be ashamed of, and the previous victims of Gurthang have not lasted long with it's curse hanging over them.' He added.
No backing out; she's responsible for my death, and the deaths of Seithrena and Dorian, if any have earned this mark of high shame and impending doom through action,-even inadvertent,- deserves it. Aragon told himself firmly.

Katherine waited in the small antechamber alone.
She had been moved under guard to the antechamber and given some decent clothes by two unsmiling guards.
Now she waited anxiously.

The door suddenly swung open, and in came Aragon, gingerly holding a black bladed hand-and-a-half sword sheathed in a black leather scabbard, and accompanied by two elves, and his weird looking dragon.
The male elf,-which Katherine thought was the older of the pair,- was carrying a leather-bound book in his arms, and looked grim, which surprised and chilled Katherine, as she'd found in her few, fleeting experiences with the fey-folk that they hid their feelings behind a blank mask.
If this one was grim about something, then something bad was in the offing.

The female elf reverently carried the black egg she'd stolen the previous week.
She placed the egg on a small table between them.
Wordlessly, Katherine touched the egg.
It was still for a long while, and Katherine felt her heart sink as she considered that maybe the dragon was repulsed by what she'd engendered.
Then with a quiet crack, the egg's top broke.

The section of shell fell away, and a black dragon hatchling crawled from the shell.
The female elf looked sideways at Aragon, and an unspoken conversation seemed to pass between them.

Meanwhile, the little dragon was busy licking the membrane off of itself.
Now that the time had come, Katherine found herself hesitating.
Hesitantly, she reached out with her left hand and paused as she saw the sword in Aragon's hands.
'You'll strike me down if I bond with the dragon, or sever our bond.' Stated Katherine.
'Your punishment isn't going to be nearly so cruel.' Said the female elf mildly. 'Not that you haven't committed crimes that would see you struck down under different circumstances.' She added.

Katherine went to reply, but the little black dragon had just nosed her hand.
The next instant, Katherine was on her back, unable to move.
The blast of icy energy had taken her completely by surprise.
Within minutes, she could stand once again.

When she stood, she found herself eye to eye with the male elf.
'Now, you must put your name in this book to be numbered among us, assuming you can write.' He said.
Katherine grimaced.
'I can't write.' She admitted.
'Is there something you'd prefer to be called instead of Katherine Wilde?' Asked the elf.
She was quiet a moment, then she looked at the elf.
'My name is no longer Katherine Wilde, from hereon I am Faith Encarmine.' She said. 'And my dragon is Mor'ranr.'

The elf nodded, and filled in a line in the leather-bound book.
Now Aragon stepped forward.
'Now, as your punishment for causing mine, Seithrena's and Master Dorian Staves' deaths, I hold that while if in your position I would've done the same and thus refuse to see you executed for it, I inflict upon you the cursed blade Gurthang, Iron of Death, and charge you to bear it always as your weapon until your death, or you redeem yourself in mine and the Scion's eyes.' He said, offering her the black sword. 'May all who see you bearing this weapon know it as a mark of shame for the deaths you caused.' Aragon added gravely.

Faith accepted the blade in both hands.
'Then never shall I draw it.' She said.
'We shall see, Rhunön may refuse to forge you a sword once I have told her of this.' Said the male elf. 'Now, as for who your instructor will be, Elmïra, I'm putting her under your charge.' He said.
'What?' Asked Aragon in shock.

Even the weird dragon Thelduin jerked around to face the male elf at this.
'Eragon, have you lost your mind?' Asked the female elf, Elmïra.
'No,' replied Eragon. 'I just think that Aragon is being rather unfair inflicting this particular weapon on Faith.' The old elf explained.
'So you're punishing the both of us?' Accused Elmïra in outrage.
'View it how you will.' Eragon retorted.

Meanwhile Aragon and Faith had locked eyes.
Aragon felt a very heavy weight fall through his stomach at the wicked gleam that appeared in Faith's eye.
Oh demons above and below what have I done? Aragon thought silently.
They both looked to Elmïra as she swore quietly.
'Come on then you two, Faith you'll ride with me and Teclian, Aragon whatever you plan on doing for the rest of the day be off and attend to it.' She said wearily.
'And if the two of you end up fighting, so help me I'll scourge the both of you.' She promised.

Aragon nodded, already resolving to not offer any provocation beyond what he already had to his new and unlooked for fellow student.
There was a sharp crack! and Eragon was gone, vanished into thin air.
'Come on.' Elmïra repeated, opening the door and beckoning her apprentices to follow.
'Lady's first.' Aragon said, he'd be damned if he exposed his back to someone he'd given good reason to stab.
Faith gave him a sweetly vindictive smirk as she took his invitation.

You should've just had her killed and empathy be damned, now look what's happened! Elmïra scolded.
I mightn't like it still, but I think you're right mistress. Aragon replied grimly, eyeing Faith warily while she cradled the coal-black hatchling with a look of tender adoration on her face.
At least that's something to be said for her. Observed Thelduin.
Aye, she does like Mor'ranr, but I'm still going to be wary of her; I have more or less damned her to die by that sword. Aragon pointed out as they exited the section of the keep the antechamber was situated in.

Several of the citadel's guards and one or two of the riders gave Faith hard looks when they beheld the sword slung across her back.
''Bout what she deserves.' Aragon heard one guard say.
'Gurthang?' Asked another, 'no, Elmïra's apprentice is just too gutless to kill the little whore.'
Aragon saw Faith flash her gaze at the guards.
Then they caught sight of Mor'ranr cradled in her arms.
Fortunately, before hostility could break out, Teclian arrived.
He huffed a hot gust of air at the two guards, cowing them into silence.

Thelduin had already size-shifted to her adult size, and Aragon was already ensconced on his saddle.
'I'm going flying with Thelduin for a while,' Aragon called.
With that, Thelduin was away.
Just be sure you come back. Elmira replied.
Aragon sighed mentally, then leaned into his saddle as Thelduin angled away towards the Hadarac.

Hours later, they were lounging in the shadow of a sand-dune on the edge of the desert.
'I suppose I'll be needing to bring cool clothes when we go after the Phantoms.' Mused Aragon.
Thelduin cracked open an eye from where she was sunning herself on a rock in her hatchling size.
Don't forget provisions and plenty of water, as well as warm sleeping gear. Thelduin added.
'True, true.' He said.

In the shade as it was it was pleasantly warm instead of being stifling.
'I also need to see about another sword I think, after that last debacle.'
And learn magic, you've demonstrated you're responsible enough. Thelduin said. There's a slaver just over the rise as well, a scout for a group belonging to our up-coming prey. She continued.

'Ah, I could live here, it's so quiet.' Aragon said dreamily.
He closed his eyes as if to go to sleep, and listened to the quiet scuff of sand as the scout crept over the dune.
Cracking an eye open, Aragon watched as the slaver crept closer with a sword in his hand, marginally better kept than the one he'd used on the plains.

He waited until the slaver was in arms reach, then grabbed him by the groin, before pulling him off balance.
The slaver gave a cry of surprise as he was pitched forward over Aragon, who used the moment to vault to his feet, before punching the slaver in the wrist, making him lose his sword.
The slaver grabbed Aragon by the neck, and in response Aragon kicked him in the groin, before kneeing him in the face.
Then he scrabbled up the slaver's sword and put it to the slaver's throat.

'Thelduin.' Aragon said.
With an annoyed huff Thelduin gave up on her afternoon dose and shifted back to her original size.
The slaver's eyes went wide with horror.
'On your back.' Aragon said flatly.
The slaver complied, before Aragon hog-tied the man with his own bootlaces.

With this, Thelduin dropped to all fours, and crouched down, allowing Aragon to haul the man onto her back and strap his legs to the rear of the saddle, before climbing on himself and strapping his legs to the arm restraints.
'I think we've done enough fishing for one day, let's go home.' Aragon said.
'And don't go struggling around too much back there, it's a long way to fall if you come loose.' Aragon called to the captive slaver.
With this, he could sense the man's plans for escape dry up like a puddle on a hot summer's day.

Thelduin launched herself into the air and the slaver screamed as the red dunes of the desert receded.
'Let's go home.' Aragon said, and Thelduin angled back the way she'd come.
I wonder if this counts towards the task we were given? Mused Aragon.
Anything to avoid thinking about Faith, hmm? Asked Thelduin. Admit it, the real reason you saw her made a rider was because you like her. She added.

Aragon pouted, although he knew the expression meant nothing as Thelduin couldn't see it.
Do you really think I'm that shallow? He asked.
You can be when you want to be. Thelduin replied with infuriating smugness.
Don't think I haven't noted that you're still spending almost every spare moment while hunting with Anarch. Aragon replied.
Drop it, it's the mating season. I'm aloud to have feelings for another dragon, even if you don't like his rider. We're. . Replied Thelduin with finality.

If I come back to our quarters one day and you're tending a clutch of eggs, I know who I'll be blaming. Aragon said darkly.
Thelduin jabbed him with her thoughts. Hard.
Aragon flinched violently and let the matter drop.

Anything above twenty-three hasn't changed much due to the fact that my idea for the story hasn't changed in the time between when I posted it and now, and because so far as I can tell, there're no mistakes in it.

No One-liners.