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"…I tell you this so you know what it means to be Shur'tugalar," Arya continued as they walked. Istalri and Nuaen were perched on their Riders' shoulders. "We are the teachers, the healers, and most of all the keepers of the peace. From the moment your palm was branded with the silver mark, to you I was no longer Arya Dröttning, but Arya, Shur'tugal. One of the original four who fought against Galbatorix, although I was not yet Queen or Rider. Oromis, Eragon, Murtagh, and I. Glaedr, Saphira, Thorn, and Fírnen."
"I have a question," Kyra said. "If Eragon knows the true name, why did he not revert Vroengard back to the way it was before and build the Rider's Order there?"
"He did undo the evil magicks there, but I believe Eragon wished to raise the Riders in secret. A safe haven where young hatchlings could learn without distractions or illusions. Every man, dwarf, elf, Urgal, and Ra'zac knows where Vroengard lies. No one but the Riders knows the location of the Breoal abr Shur'tugalar."
"Is that its name?" Veyna asked, "Breoal abr Shur'tugalar?"
"No, merely its title," Arya answered. "Fírnen named it Gedwëy Evarínya."
"Shining Stars," Veyna translated wonderingly.
From up high, the sun reflects off the scales of the flying dragons and makes them shine like many-colored stars, Fírnen's deep voice rumbled through them all. Arya smiled.
"So you've been there?" Kyra asked.
"Only once after we discovered it." Arya fell silent as they approached the edge of the trees. "We are here." High above them, mountains touched the clouds with their snow-tipped peaks. Directly in front of them stood Oromis's humble hut. The group walked to the edge to look down into the small valley, which was obscured by a dark, heavy mist.
"These," Arya told them, "are the Crags of Tel'naeir." The wind shifted, brushing away the fog. The trio and their dragons looked down over the edge of the small cliff past Oromis's hut to glimpse the valley below, where beautiful plants grew and deer roamed.
But they saw only flames. The base of the Crags of Tel'naeir was on fire.
"Fírnen!" Arya's voice was sharp. "Transport them to Ellesméra. We need all the elves here, now."
"Please, may we help?" Kyra pleaded.
A silent exchange passed between Arya and Fírnen. Hatchlings, Fírnen spoke to them both, you may be strong enough to help us, but your dragons are more important than the valley below the Crags of Tel'naeir. Climb on my back with Istalri and Nuaen. Then Tamos will protect them and you may rejoin us. But we must not stand here idly.
"Thank you, Fírnen," Veyna answered. They hopped nimbly up his foreleg and onto the saddle on his back. Their dragons looked around, not comprehending what was happening. With a whoosh of his great wings, Fírnen took off and soared back the way they'd come. He glided easily over the trees. The sisters jumped in fright as he let out a loud roar and swooped down, wings skimming the tree tops, projecting his thoughts in front of him and alerting the elves to their plight.
Suddenly, he dove for the ground. Hold on, hatchlings! he shouted mentally.
Veyna could barely hold onto Istalri as the wind whistled past her ears. They stopped so suddenly that both she and her dragon tumbled off Fírnen onto the ground. Veyna curled her body, protecting the dragon as they rolled into the underbrush. Finally they stopped spinning and Veyna went to stand up, blinking rapidly. The world spun around her.
A circle of green magic resonated out from Fírnen, blasting through the forest. In her dizzied state, Veyna feebly reached out to touch it, but it crackled straight through her body, leaving it feeling tingly but restored. Likewise, Istalri sat alert beside her. With another thunderous sound, Tamos on his orange dragon alighted beside them.
"Climb on," he ordered, eyes wary. Not too eager to ride another dragon, Veyna placed Istalri on the saddle before climbing on herself. Once they were settled, the orange dragon leapt forward. In a few long bounds, he was back in the clearing where Kyra, Nuaen, and Fírnen were waiting anxiously.
My apologies, Veyna, Istalri, Fírnen blinked, perturbed, It was not my intention to give you such a sky-fall-tumble ride. But something is not right, here, in the forest. I must go back to partner-of-my-heart-Arya. With that, he took off into the sky. Veyna held Nuaen for Kyra a moment so her sister could climb up. Without a word, the dragon beneath them thrust himself into the sky.
He's not the talkative, share-your-life-story-with-a-person-you-just-met kind of dragon, is he? Veyna thought. They didn't even know his name.
"Tamos?" Kyra asked from behind her, "Will you please take us to somewhere we can help fight the flames?"
"It is too dangerous," Tamos answered, "We will take you somewhere you will be able to watch and learn but still be safe. Arya's orders."
Kyra and Veyna were dissatisfied, but knew better than to argue. The dragon veered away from the forest, toward a small outcropping of rock. The twins scrambled off him and looked down below.
A few elves scurried around the flames, but not as many as Veyna had expected. More than Ellesméra's usual population were here for the dragon egg procession, but there were so few helping! Why? Were they abandoning the Crags of Tel'naeir to the dancing flames? Surely not! The legendary Oromis and Glaedr had lived there for a hundred years…
Istalri nudged Veyna's leg. "Not now," Veyna muttered, still looking down. Istalri nipped her slightly. "What?" Veyna turned to face her dragon. As she did so, movement caught her eye. Elves—hundreds of them—lined up along the cliff, swirling magic flying around them. Across the way, water burst from the mountainside, soaking the flames until they sputtered out. A smug feeling flooded her consciousness. But why would she be feeling smug? Unless it was—Istalri.
They are drawing water from the soil of the mountains, the orange dragon explained, and so dousing the flames. That is why so many elves are needed. It takes great strength to draw up the water, and even greater to do it over such a distance.
But shouldn't you be helping, ebrithil? Kyra asked respectfully, Your strength would supplement theirs greatly.
Tamos and I are not your masters, the orange dragon admonished, You should not call us ebrithil in this tongue or any other. As Riders, we are family. First names will do. But yes, you are right. We have already lent our strength to Fírnen, who flies to Arya as we speak. The dragon dipped its head so it was eye level to the twins. I am Shiün, son of Shruikan and the wild Leka.
"Shruikan?" Veyna couldn't hide her surprise and fear.
I never knew my sire or dam, Shiün told them, Murtagh-Morzan's-son befriended Eragon-lead-Rider-kingkiller, did he not? Why should I not be able to do the same?
Kyra nodded. "Look, the fire's out!" she exclaimed. Indeed it was. Within a few minutes, Veyna spotted Fírnen circling high in the sky before swooping in. Arya dismounted and strode over to Tamos. She exchanged a few words with him and he nodded and stepped back.
"Kyra, Veyna," she addressed them, "As you know, much of the foliage of the Crags of Tel'naeir has been burned to the ground. Unfortunately, without the roots of the plants to hold it together, the soil has become very unstable. It would be unsafe to raise your dragons there. It has been decided that you leave for Vroengard tonight, where the humans, dwarves, and Urgals already congregate with newborn hatchlings. We previously preferred to raise our own, but that is not possible now. Tamos and Shiün will escort you there."
"Arya," Kyra interrupted, "was there anything…odd…about the fire? Fírnen mentioned—"
"He was mistaken," Arya replied firmly. "Now, fly safe and fly fast." She bowed to Shiün. "May the wind always be at your back." She leapt agilely onto Fírnen's back. "Farewell!" she called as Fírnen veered off into the air. Veyna and Kyra exchanged baffled looks before clambering onto the orange dragon, who took off as soon as they were settled. Something was off here.
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A cold mist stung Veyna's cheeks and clung to her skin. It was the morning of the fourth of six days riding on Shiün's back. Flying from Ellesméra to Vroengard was no short trip; it was roughly the length of the Hadarac Desert. Over the course of the trip, Istalri had nearly doubled in size. She now was the length of Veyna's arm from snout to tail tip. Nuaen was smaller, but only just. Nuaen's frame was bulkier, however, although perhaps that was because she kept stealing scraps of meat from Tamos's pack from behind.
Shiün resurfaced under the low-hanging clouds, a glint in his eye as he turned to survey his passengers with a keen eye. Suddenly, he rolled over in midair. The straps strained to keep Veyna from falling off as the world reeled and then straightened, but Istalri tumbled off her shoulder, falling past Nuaen. The two hatchlings hurtled toward the ground.
Flauga, Shiün commanded them. Kyra and Veyna watched, horror-stricken and wide-eyed, as their dragons' wings unfurled and caught the wind. Slowly they rose up until they were level with their Riders, who still stared at them in shock.
"Reisa letta. Flauga," Tamos said, gedwëy ignasia glowing silver with magic.
Istalri and Nuaen flapped their wings, but didn't fall again.
It is a new training exercise for hatchlings, Shiün explained, We support them so they do not fall, but they have the experience of flying.
"You scared us!" Kyra gasped, half-laughing.
A deep rumbling occurred in Shiün's chest; it didn't occur until seconds later to Veyna that he was laughing. Together, they all flew on towards Vroengard.
Review please! What do you think of Shiün?
Preview for the next chapter, Starting:
Nerves of tension ran through her dragon's body. Istalri had never flown with Veyna before. But now she was expected to do it for a week? It seemed almost impossible.