Last chapter ! Thanks for reading!
Pain. It took Veyna a moment to recognize it. Ignoring all direction, Veyna sprinted outside. All around her were cries of anguish, but nothing mattered to her except reaching Istalri. When she finally reached her broken dragon, there was so much blood on the ground that she feared her beloved partner was already gone. But no, pain still rebounded across their mental link.
Without thinking, Veyna dropped down beside her dragon and formed a spell with no words. A large brown blight appeared on the earth for some twenty feet around as every living thing in that radius was reduced to dust. Istalri's wing snapped out, blood flow returning. The break in her foreleg mended, her spikes repositioning after being bent with the force of the fall.
Veyna slumped to ground, the magic almost causing to black out. The world reeled before she was pulled upward, out of harm's way from the arrow that buried itself in the dirt beneath her. Staria hauled Veyna to her feet before sending a blast of fire from her palm at the archer.
Her friend had a stream of blood running along her left temple. Staria's image swam before her, her long brown hair in wild strands down her back. Veyna locked onto her bright green eyes as Staria held out her hand.
"Come on," Staria dragged her across the ground as Adura nosed Istalri along. Once they were safely in the forest, they stopped. For a while, they sat there, resting.
Gratitude pulsed out of Istalri as some of her wounds healed. Veyna leaned against her dragon's scaly side, exhausted from the taxing magic, which she had already had to perform twice before. After Istalri's unfortunate run in with the wall of the castle, Veyna had ignored all direction and sprinted outside to her dragon. Istalri had lain so still that Veyna feared she was dead, but pain was still rebounding across their mental link. She pulled energy everything around her, forming a spell with no words. A large brown blight appeared on the earth as every living thing turned to dust for twenty feet around. Istalri had been fine after that—for a short time anyway. Since then, Istalri had experience increasing chest pain and then relief with the help of Eragon and Saphira.
Veyna had never seen the Riders so disheveled in all her life. Everyone was covered in cuts and bruises of various sizes. One dragon she had never seen before bed a huge gash on its foreleg, jumping around and mewling like a distressed kitten. Another had its snout completely slashed open, and, though the surface had stopped bleeding profusely, a drop sometimes sizzled the ground at its feet. Staria had a nasty cut across her forehead that dripped down past her temple and another on her sword arm. Kyra was limping slightly with her wrists slashed and a haunted look in her eyes. She wasn't in danger of bleeding to death, so she was here. Veyna herself had a throbbing in her shoulder where an arrow fired from above had somehow made it through her wards but not her armor. She was cut across the cheek, which still stung in the cool morning air.
It was not long after that Eragon was forced to come and deal with Istalri's ever-increasing chest pain. Still, more survivors kept coming in, not all of them on their side. Veyna went out into the field to confirm that no more Riders or dragons were out there, although bodies of the slain still lay where they had died.
Eragon stepped forward and the gentle whispers of conversation ceased. "You have done your duty to the Order and Alagaësia," Eragon told them quietly. "Rest and heal, and then let us return home." There was a general murmuring of assent. Veyna placed her hand on Istalri's neck, feeling her dragon's giant heartbeat reverberate through her body. Placing her hand on the emerald in the pommel of Esterni, she called upon it to help her heal Istalri's wounds. At once she was glad that she and Staria had thought to store up energy before arriving at the castle: both Veyna and her dragon were exhausted.
With a few well-chosen words, the pain in her own shoulder dissipated and the cut on her cheek's stinging abated. Placing her hand against a nearby tree, she inadvertently transferred some power out of it. A small cascade of newly deadened leaves floated down to the ground. Shaking her head, Veyna forced herself to walk away, Istalri creeping slowly along behind her.
She found Staria kneeling beside Evelyn, who lay spread-eagled on the ground. Mustering her strength, Veyna dropped down beside her. The young girl's arm was twisted to the wrong side and her leg was clearly broken in several places.
"What happened?" Veyna breathed, forgetting her own troubles for a moment.
Speaking in an equally low voice, Staria replied, "Fell off her dragon. Murtagh dismissed her from the inside groups; he thought she'd be safer out there. Word is that it was Tierre."
"Can we heal it?"
"Alone, and as walking zombies? No. Fetch Arya please."
"Okay." Veyna ran for the elf queen, carefully explained the situation, and came back to find Staria holding Evelyn's hand. The girl looked at them without seeing, wide scared eyes full of pain.
"Evelyn," Arya asked, "can you hear me?"
The young Rider made no move to respond.
"She's in shock." Arya ran her fingers lightly over the curvature of Evelyn's exposed stomach and ribcage. "She may be bleeding internally as well." Arya began to chant in the Ancient Language, of binding, or growing, and of repairing. Minutes passed, but Arya's green eyes never opened and Evelyn's merely fluttered shut. Veyna glanced at Staria.
"I've done all I can for her," the soft but musical voice spoke out, "but she's not going to make it. A visible sigh shuddered through the girl on the ground. "She has entered the void," Arya announced softly.
Four days later, the entire group, after a brief visit to Ilirea, started the long journey back home, stopping only in Osilon. They finally reached Gedwëy Evarínya. It was hard to believe that they had only set out two weeks ago. So much had changed. The general morale, however, had risen since the end of the battle. To Veyna's surprise, Murtagh had stayed with them the whole way and was making no move to leave.
On the second day of being back home, Eragon called a big meeting. He didn't even try to sugarcoat or put a positive spin on what had happened. Eragon knew they would all need time to grieve and heal. "There were forty-seven of us when we first heard of troubles in Alagaësia," he told them. "Ten pairs of us were away on missions, too far out to help. Another ten stayed to guard our home and protect those too new to fight. Twelve pairs betrayed us, and fifteen fought against them. Of the—" He did not use the word traitor. "—ones on Rasib's side, two remain in our custody, and one is unaccounted for. Of those who fought for us, eleven remain." However, we have recovered six Eldunarí from the dead, Eragon's thoughts invaded their minds. Brain muddled, Veyna wondered for a second why he hadn't just said that aloud, then realized the younger Riders hadn't learned of the Eldunarí yet. "It is time for us to lay to rest the fallen, n matter who they fought for. They are all equal in our eyes: as our brothers and sisters."
Though her mind was not searching for it, she felt the rush of energy cascade through Eragon as twenty-six magically-concealed caskets materialized in front of him facing the crowd. The half containing dragons, however, were the same size as the others—they contained only the skull, some of the bones, and beautiful hide of the dragon. "Of the fallen," Eragon continued. As he said each name, the glossy cover over the head of the body turned translucent, into glass. "Evelyn, Twi, Gom…" Veyna felt Nuaen twitch beside her and remembered that Gom had been Nuaen's sire. Kyra glanced at Veyna and placed her hand on her dragon's shoulder. Eragon went on until the last casket had been named.
It was especially sad that, although thirteen Riders and thirteen dragons had lost their lives, four pairings had been broken, leaving two Indlvarn and two desolate dragons.
It had eventually been discovered that two mentors had also been in league with Soetrí and Rasib. Evelyn's mentor and his male dragon were one of the pairs; the other were Tierre and Okkan's dwarven masters. The elf and the dwarf had pleaded guilty and Eragon had shipped them off to Kyra's old prison island. The dragons, however, posed more of a problem. Finally it was decided, at the dragons' requests, that they were to be released to live with the wild dragons, who by nature would keep them in check. Neither dragon had been privy to the schemes of their bonded partners, and it had been more than a nasty shock when the truth was uncovered.
As she lay in her bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, Veyna wondered if the others were sleeping. Insomnia did not plague the elves, who had the gift of shutting their body down into dream state forcibly, but what of the dwarves, humans, and Urgals? Were they thinking of those lost, as she was? Veyna could hear Staria's light breathing, soft and steady, comforting. Whether she was asleep or merely pretending she couldn't tell. Though the walls were thick, it could not stop her enhanced hearing from picking up the rough, broken breathing of the Urgal on the other side. Staria, she knew, was not being plagued by that tonight—the dwarf on that side had been slain in the battle.
The battle. Evelyn. Did she deserve to die after less than a year of training? Who would deliver the news to her family? They must have had such high hopes for her...
Veyna felt a pang of sadness when she realized she didn't even know where Evelyn came from. The Empire or Surda? Who was her mentor? The girl had been around for three months, and Veyna hadn't noticed her once, thought to say hi, or introduced herself. By Eragon's word they were supposed to be brothers and sisters to one another, a family…in a family, do older siblings ignore newborns and not even notice their existence?
Istalri crawled in from outside on the balcony, where she and Adura preferred to sleep. Her talons clicking minimally on the stone floor, she placed her large head on the foot of Veyna's bed, staring imploringly at her Rider.
Don't do this to yourself.
How could I not even realize she was here?
You were preoccupied.
That's just an excuse.
But the truth.
Veyna sighed. You're right. Thank you, Istalri.
Her dragon let out a low hum, and it was to this sound that Veyna finally let herself slip into her much-needed waking dreams.
The next morning, both she and Staria were very rejuvenated by the good night's rest. She was in such high spirits that she even volunteered to Eragon to help others through the grieving process—a task that the Veyna of the day before never would have been able to handle.
Over the next few days, new Shur'tugal—ones Veyna had never encountered before—seemed to flock to Gedwëy Evarínya. Generally, these new Riders were older and greeted Eragon, and, with some surprise, Arya, tiredly and withdrew to their rooms on the upper floors. They were as quiet as mice above her: neither she nor Staria noticed any difference from the empty to occupied room. Had she not seen them come in, Veyna never would have known they were there.
She and Staria spent many of their days working on the final resting place of those who had died. It was decided that the place would be underground, much to the pleasure of the dwarves. They had already begun excavating a large chamber and giving Eragon a multitude advice on how best to do his next cave project. Veyna made frequent visits down there, marveling at their progress. Although the dwarves themselves preferred to use pickaxes to do the job, they responded amicably to others' magic, as it sped up the process exponentially.
As elves, it seemed almost wrong to bury their dead in the cold stone beneath the earth, where there was no sunshine or plants or anything. It did, however, please the dwarves immensely, and the humans and Urgals seem to agree on it too, always having buried their dead in the ground. Though their protests were most respectful, many of the elves had plagued Eragon since he had made the announcement to switch the final resting place to a happier place, where living things could benefit from the nutrients provided by the end of a life. Eragon seemed divided on this subject, and so made a compromise.
The energy left in each body—though it had dwindled as time progressed—was saved in a diamond. A small forest had been planted some five years ago, and through many songs in the Ancient Language the diamonds were implanted in the trees, and a spell placed on them that would prevent the gems from being removed and allow the tree to utilize it in times of need. The disgruntled elves seemed mollified by this method, and no more disagreements arose.
It was almost a week later when an unknown Rider knocked on her door. Staria and Adura had gone hunting, so Veyna and Istalri were alone in the room.
"Hello," Veyna said to the man at the door.
"Veyna?" he asked. "May we come in?"
"Of course," she answered.
"It's nice to meet you," the man told her, stepping inside. A large silver dragon landed gracefully on the balcony. "My name is Sern, and this is Celestí."
Veyna's heart skipped a beat as recognition flashed through Istalri.
"Yes," Sern said with a smile. "Istalri, meet your dam."
Veyna paused as Istalri took a half hop towards the silver dragon. She cocked her head, sniffing cautiously.
Greetings, Istalri. Veyna didn't mean to eavesdrop on their conversation, but Istalri made no motion to shut her out.
Greetings, fire-belly-dam, Istalri purred. A quick reference through Istalri's training with Mort revealed that fire-belly-dam was a high praise for a mother dragon and often used by her various offspring as a term of affection. Fire-roar-sire was of the same idea, but for the father.
Celestí blinked. You've grown big and strong. Your father would be so proud if he could see you now. You should go visit him sometime.
Trayim? Isn't he wild dragon?
They're not hard to find. He's a darker green than you, and a second generation original.
I will, thank you.
Veyna got the sense that she and Sern were now intruding on what was spiraling toward a private conversation.
"Why don't we take a walk on the grounds?" Sern suggested, evidently having gotten the same message.
"Sure," Veyna agreed. "So, where are you from?"
"Tronjheim," the human answered.
"Really? I thought it was populated mostly by dwarves..."
"My dad was a captain in the Varden," Sern explained, "but my mother returned there after the evacuation to Surda. Now my father is one of many ambassadors of Queen Nasuada to the dwarves. You?"
"City of Taíthos, near Ellesméra," Veyna answered.
"Interesting," Sern replied, "You must have about as many flowers as we have mushrooms."
Veyna grinned. "Indeed." They walked along in silence for a minute. "Have you two been on a mission for this entire time? We haven't seen you around."
"Actually yes," Sern replied, "We were exploring the uncharted parts of the Hadarac Desert. Unfortunately, we were way on the other side and didn't receive news about Rasib's castle until it was already over."
"Mmm."
"What about you and Istalri? Was that your first foray into Alagaësia since you were bonded?"
"Yes," Veyna answered. Night was falling and one of them soon would not be able to see except by moonlight. "Not our first mission, but it was our first time meeting Queen Nasuada."
"Ah, what did you think of her?" Sern looked genuinely interested.
"She was…an interesting woman. The people seem to like her; she must be a good queen."
"That she is. Did you know when she first took office she graced every citizen of the Empire with five gold crowns?"
"No, I did not," Veyna responded, surprised. "That's quite a lot, isn't it?"
Sern nodded. They had reached Veyna's room again. "It was nice meeting you."
"You too." Glancing at Istalri, Veyna smiled.
Sern mounted Celestí. "See you around!" he called as the beautiful silver dragon took off into the darkness.
Istalri seemed to wriggle with joy as Veyna sat down at her writing desk, beginning a long letter to her parents. She snaked her head forward to rest it on the table, making sure not to break it under her weight. The green dragon grinned toothily at her.
And for the first time since the battle, Veyna laughed.
Epilogue
The crowd fell silent before her. Kyra's magnified voice rang out in the small glade where every Rider in existence—even Murtagh—stood listening.
When Eragon had first requested that she give a speech, Kyra had felt hollow inside. "Surely," she had told him, "I am not qualified for this."
"You are the most qualified," Eragon assured her. "The Riders are confused. We have watched our friends die by the betrayal of our own family. It is hard for many to believe that releasing the dragons is what this was all about. You are the only one left to tell them, Kyra. Tell them your story."
So here she was, standing on a wooden podium, with no fantastical speech prepared that would promise everything would be okay. She had only the truth in her quiver, the Ancient Language her bow. She opened her mouth and began to speak.
"I always wanted to be a Rider, since I was a little girl. One day, when I was seven years old, a strange man approached me. My sister had gone in the house to fetch a ball only for a minute, and I told him so. He left, but promised that if I met him at midnight and didn't tell anyone about him, he could give me magical prowess beyond that of other elves my age. He did not threaten me, but I was curious and the idea of that kind of power was alluring, so I met up with him that night. The man said he would give me that gift if I stole something for him: a gem, large, bright yellow, from Arya Dröttning's quarters. The magicks would ensure I was a worthy candidate for a dragon egg. The ends justify the means, I thought. I couldn't do that much damage, as a seven-year-old. Besides, once I was a Rider I could rectify everything I'd done. I stole the gem. All of a sudden, all of my strengths increased. I was the head of my class in spellcasting and sword fighting. I was happy."
Kyra paused. "Then I learned, the day of the ceremony, that they were instituting a test for the candidates that included mind reading. I was terrified they'd find out what I had done. I broke into the restricted archives and used a spell contained there to protect those memories from being discovered. I was bonded with Nuaen, and again life was good.
"Soetrí had always been friendly towards me. We sparred and studied together, always working to improve ourselves, both driven by the need to be the best. Eventually he coaxed out of me the deadly secret I had been hiding, but he totally understood. He even assured me that I had done the right thing—the man's name was Rasib, and he himself had been working with him for the benefit of all the dragons. It was revealed to me much later, and not by Soetrí, that Rasib was also a Shade and Rider of Shuke." Kyra paused again, this time for emphasis.
"In reality, it all traces back to Galbatorix. Rasib wasn't evil, not really. Not completely. He wanted the dragons to be free and not enslaved by their Riders. But I'm here to tell you that's not true. Only one who has been forcibly split from their partner, from their friend, from the one who means the most to them, could tell you this in all honesty. We are not enslaving the dragons. They do not serve us. We work together for peace in Alagaësia!" At first, silence met her declaration. Then the dragons began roaring and stamping their approval.
"Well done," Eragon approached her from behind. Kyra nodded and thanked him, stepping off the podium, hoping to disappear into the crowd. Weaving her way through the celebrating throng, she found her way to Veyna, who greeted her with a smile.
"Nice speech," Veyna laughed. Her sister then grew serious. "What did ever happen to Soetrí?"
"I saw him in the castle," Kyra answered, "He seemed to think we were still on the same side. I broke into his mind, but he was arguing with Rasib already. Rasib seemed to be upset that Istalri had almost died from that pebble. It sounded like Soetrí had sent it, trying to forge mistrust between you two, but Rasib was angry that Istalri could have been hurt. I was about to kill Soetrí when I had the feeling you were in trouble. I ran with my gut feeling. That was the last I saw of him."
"He's not among the dead or captured," Veyna said darkly. "That means he's still alive. And out there somewhere."
"Doesn't matter," Kyra responded, "We'll find him someday."
0==]=======
"Brothers and Sisters," Eragon began, "today we gather here to witness the confirmation of the most sacred bond in the world." Then he addressed Kyra and Nuaen, who were standing in front of him. Kyra looked distinctly nervous. "Do you feel you are ready to affirm your bond and become one of the Order?"
"We do," Kyra replied softly. The congregation was respectful, silent.
We do. Nuaen projected her thoughts firmly.
"As is my right as a Dragon Rider, I ask you: Do you, Kyra Zediasdaughter, accept your partner for who she is, love her as you do yourself, and treasure your bond more than anything else?"
"I do," Kyra replied.
"Do you, Nuaen, daughter of Miira and Gom, accept your partner for who she is, love her as you do yourself, and treasure your bond more than anything else?"
I do, Nuaen without a pause.
"Do you, Kyra, promise to protect Nuaen, whether with sword or magic, even at the cost of your own life?"
"I do," Kyra promised.
"Do you, Nuaen, promise to protect Kyra, whether with tooth or claw, wings or mind, even at the cost of your own life?"
I do, Nuaen said.
"Do you, Kyra, take Nuaen to be the partner of your heart, mind, and soul, promise to speak when the moment is right, be silent when it is not, and forever respect and honor her?"
"I do," Kyra repeated.
"Do you, Nuaen, take Kyra to be the partner of your heart, mind, and soul, promise to speak when the moment is right, be silent when it is not, and forever respect and honor her?"
I do.
"Do you, Kyra, promise to protect Nuaen, whether with sword or magic, might or sacrifice, even at the cost of your own life?"
"I do." Kyra's voice was firm.
"Do you, Nuaen, promise to protect Kyra, whether with tooth or claw, wings or mind, even at the cost of your own life?"
I do.
"Do you accept the responsibilities of Shur'tugal and Bjartskular and promise to peacefully protect all of the races of Alagaësia to the best of your ability, even at the cost of your bonded partner's life as well as your own?"
"We do."
We do.
"Do you pledge yourself to the Order, agree to be bound by its rules, and know that your actions reflect upon it with everything you do?" Eragon showed no sign that he was close to finished.
"We do." Kyra's voice was strong now, as if to say to the world, "To this I owe my allegiance, and I am proud to profess it!"
We do.
"Do you swear fealty to me and every other member of the Order, from now to forever, just as they have done for you?"
"We do."
We do.
"Then as my right as Shadeslayer, Kingkiller, Firesword, and most of all Shur'tugal, I now pronounce you, Kyra Zediasdaughter, a full Dragon Rider." He drew Brisingr and touched her on the forehead with it.
Saphira looked at Nuaen. And as is my right as Brightscales, Flametongue, and most of all Bjartskular, I now pronounce you, Nuaen, daughter of Miira and Gom, Bjartskular. She touched the tip of her nose to Nuaen's.
Eragon smiled and raised his hands. "Let us welcome into our Order…Kyra and Nuaen!"
As the cheers started, Veyna smiled. Everything was right again. She, Istalri, Kyra, and Nuaen. Together they would protect Alagaësia, now and forever.
So concludes Fallen: Istalri and Nuaen. Fallen for short. I hope you all enjoyed it. Thank you so so so much to everyone who read it, even those that just glanced at it. Without you, Fallen never would have made it past chapter five. That's when I emailed it to my little brother to read and asked for comments—I got back: "I dunno. It's stupid." Typical. So thank you all so much, especially you, reviewers! I do have plans for a sequel, Risen, so keep an eye out for it! Might take a break first, though. Or not.
For all of you with really busy lives who don't have time for long Author's Notes, go ahead and scroll down to the review box, type in a quick sentence, hit the "Review" button, and get on with your day. For the rest of you, thanks for reading this
For starters, I just want to say this story didn't turn out anything like I originally planned. Soetrí didn't exist, except as an unnamed trouble values-not-where-they-should-be boyfriend to Kyra. Rasib didn't exist either. Nor Staria. In the first plot, the twins were chosen as Riders. Both Kyra and Veyna were quiet elves with bold dragons. Nuaen was supposed to corrupt Kyra into betraying the Order (not releasing her), but Veyna interceded, blah blah blah. As I got in to it, however, I discovered I liked Nuaen—she couldn't be evil! So, as it happens in this type of story, evil went to victim. After that, I realized I should add Staria. She came from my first ever FanFic, before I even knew there was a website for it. I took her from the story I wrote when I was ten and plopped her down here, set to become some random person Veyna met on Gedwëy Evarínya. She rocketed to stardom and became a main character.
Anyway, you can see how this didn't turn out like it was originally planned. But I'm glad. I think it became much more than it was destined for. And without your kind words and support, it never would have happened. So once again, thank you.
Atra esterní ono thelduin.