Ch 7
Trissa was back in her tent now, grabbing her armor before she headed over to the training field so that the leadership of the rebellion could get an idea of what she could do.
However, as she slid on her armor, her mind was wrapped up in a haze of guilt and anger.
That poor, poor child…
She was of course thinking of Elva, the young girl who was present with Angela at the meeting. The same one she had mistaken for some spawn of Hermaeus Mora, and had scared half to death less than a day before.
The orphan child who was less than a year old, cursed to feel and try and prevent the pain of everyone around her due to a fucking grammatical error!
She'd been horrified when the child's situation had been explained to her, and it had taken a great deal of self-control not to Shout Eragon out of that tent that very instant.
She still may have, eventually, had it not been for the boy's sincere promise to find a fix for the girl's affliction, and the thorough dressing-down the girl gave to him and the rest of the council.
But when she'd turned to her…
The fear in that child's eyes would be sticking with her for a while, she knew.
She shook her head and banished the thoughts. There was nothing she could do for the girl at the moment, and she had somewhere to be.
Weapons and armor secured, she swept from the tent after casting a poison rune again on the floor and quickly made her way to the training field.
Nasuada, Eragon, Saphira, Arya, Trianna, and Orin were waiting there for her along with the six guards she had seen yesterday and a few other people who he didn't recognize.
Trissa stopped in front of them with a nod to Nasuada and Orrin, making a point to ignore Arya. "Well, where would you like to begin?"
Arya stepped forward. "You called yourself 'Archmage', I assume that means you know magic beyond these Shouts you've shown us?"
Trissa nodded.
"Then we'll start with that. How extensive is your knowledge of the Ancient Language?"
Trissa scrunched her brow in confusion. "The what?"
Arya got another faint look of annoyance on her face. "The language you use for your magic. I can understand if you have a different name for it, but…"
"What are you talking about? You don't need to speak to perform most magics." Trissa said, summoning Flames in her left hand and holding it up to the elf.
Arya's eyes widened, and most of the people gathered adopted surprised expressions. She looked at Trissa, then at the fire, then back at Trissa, then lowered her head and pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Of course, her magic works on a completely different system. Why wouldn't it?" Arya said in that language Trissa couldn't understand.
"So... I'm assuming that your magic works differently than this?" Trissa said, gesturing to the fire flickering between her fingers.
"Yes...yes it does." Eragon said, still looking at the flames burning in Trissa's hand with no small amount of confusion and a little awe.
"Why don't you just explain how your magic works. I think it will make things much simpler." Nasuada suggested.
Trissa looked between the different locals, seeing a mix of caution and curiosity on the humanoids while the dragon's expression was unreadable; though her body language showed she was tense.
After a moment, Trissa nodded. She closed her eyes for a moment, calling up her memories of the year she spent teaching full-time at the College, just before the War started up.
"Magic," She began, as she had many a time back in Winterfell, before pausing and correcting, "Nirnian magic, that is; is also called the Clever Craft. It is, at the most basic definition, the ability to alter the physical world using Magika."
"Magika?" Trianna and Orin asked at almost the exact same moment.
Trissa's eye twitched in disbelief that they knew so little about one of the most basic elements of the natural world...but bit back a retort.
"Magika is the energy that Mages and other spellcasters channel to cast spells." She said.
"Channel? So, this 'Magika' is separate from you?" Orin asked.
Trissa nodded. "Yes and no. Magika is an ambient energy that permeates and fills all living, and some nonliving, things, but we don't draw it from the environment. Every sapient being has a natural 'pool' of magika that rests in their bodies-in a metaphorical sense, of course-which can be used to power spells. When that 'pool' runs dry, you must wait for it to refill at least somewhat before you can cast again."
"Wait, you can completely drain your…'Magika' store safely? It has no ill effects?" Trianna asked, sounding almost shocked.
"...yes...Magika pertains entirely to Magic; using up the pool has no effect on the body, it just means a Mage cannot cast spells, and is all but defenseless for a few moments until enough Magika regenerates for him or her to summon a destruction spell, a ward, etcetera."
"You have not mentioned any kind of control method for this 'Magika' Energy. How do you get it to do what you want, or prevent your magic from getting out of control?" Arya said tersely.
"What exactly do you mean by 'Destruction Spell'?" Eragon asked.
Trissa's eyes flicked to the two elfoids briefly before continuing. "Those questions are rather connected. Magika cannot just be aimlessly channeled to have an effect. You need a way to focus it, and that is where the Schools come in."
"Magic, for the most part, is arranged into six schools of Magic; Destruction, Restoration, Illusion, Alteration, Conjuration, and Enchanting; though Enchantments work much different from other magics so I'll be skipping them for this discussion."
"Each school focuses on harnessing Magika in a different way. Destruction is the offensive school; utilizing the elements of fire, ice, and lightning to smite your foes. Like so."
With that Trissa turned to an unused archery target about a hundred yards away, summoning a Firebolt in one hand and a Lightning Bolt in the other. She clenched her fists, feeling the drain to her Magika stores as the energy flowed to her hands, before unleashing the blast with a thrust of her hands.
The Lightning got there first, striking the target with a CRACK that nearly split the unprepared object in twain before the firebolt struck moments later, lighting the target on fire, triggering startled yelps as men started trying to douse the sudden fire.
Trissa winced, and glanced back at the surprised onlookers. "Ah, sorry. One moment, please."
She quickly made her way over to the target and waved away the nearby men, putting her hands together palms-out and spraying the flames with a blast of icy energy, smothering the fire beneath the Frost.
The men around her had a mixture of awed and frightened expressions as she turned back to them; looks she was more than familiar with by now.
"Ah...sorry, gentlemen." She said shrugging. "Might have got a little overzealous with that demonstration."
She heard a few chuckles and one faint 'ya think?' but ignored them and made her way back to the cluster of her 'audience' who regarded her with a variety of expressions from thoughtful to curious to shocked to faintly irked.
"So," Trissa continued, trying to preserve some of her professional pride as she ignored the accident. "That is a good example of the school of Destruction. Shall I move on to the others?"
Nasuada nodded, an almost hungry gleam in her eye. "Yes, please."
…
And so, she did, explaining the other schools and demonstrating what they could do.
The Healing and Wards of Restoration (there wasn't really an option to demonstrate the anti-undead spells, unfortunately).
The Summoned Weapons and Familiars of Conjuration (she decided that an Atronach might be a bit too much for right now, especially after that first incident).
The Mage Lights and Natural Armor of Alteration (she had never managed to do very well with this school, even though Paralysis would be very useful for her line of work).
And lastly, the Mind-Altering tricks and Invisibility of Illusion Magic: her most used school, and the only one she had managed to Master.
She thought she would treasure the looks on their faces when she turned invisible until the day she died.
"And, that about covers it." Trissa finally said, after almost a full hour demonstrating her abilities. "Any last questions."
"Yes." Eragon spoke up. "The magic you've show us is...impressive." Trissa held in a snort at the understatement. "But, how did you learn these spells? You don't focus them through words so...how?"
By the Nine, she felt like she was back at the College, teaching some nord bumpkin how to not set themselves on fire. They were just so...uninformed.
She took a breath.
"Spellbooks. I read and studied specially-made books that taught me how to use every one of these spells. Once you read a Spellbook, and fully understand the information within it, the spells imbued in the paper make the spell a part of you, so to speak. The magic becomes a natural, almost reflexive action. You think 'I need to cast a lightning bolt' and you do without having to really think about how: it's like the muscle memory you develop training with a weapon, but it occurs near-instantly, aided by the enchantments in the book."
Eragon didn't look satisfied by that, but Trissa spoke up before he could ask something else.
"So, I've talked for a rather long while about my magic, and yet I know nothing about yours. Would you be partial to fixing that disparity?" She asked.
Almost as one the group glanced at Arya, who stepped forward with the barest hint of irritation on her face.
So, it seemed Elves were the Magic specialists here as well.
Lovely.
Arya, in a rather crisp and concise manner compared to Trissa's in-depth seminar, explained that the people of this plane perform magic by channeling the life-energy of themselves or other creatures. They control the shape and effect of this channeled energy using the language of a long-dead race, simply called 'The Ancient Language' today. This replicated what Magika did, bringing about changes to the world around them in nearly any way they could imagine and speak. Arya also explained some of the more universal uses, like Scrying and Wards.
Oh, and let's not forget the dangers: if you mispronounce a word you could make the spell do something completely different than what you wanted (a pair of violet eyes flashed through Trissa's mind at that), or if you underestimate how much energy it will cost to perform an action, the magic could drain away your entire life force and kill you.
The Scholarly Archmage part of the Dovahkiin's mind found the differences between the styles fascinating. While Nirnian magic was easier to learn, more reliable and repeatable, as well as exceptionally less dangerous to use (at least in the case of common, non-conjuration spells), Alagaësian magic was incredibly adaptable and fluid, much more than the Nirnian style.
To put it simply, with Nirnian magic, you can do one of a set number of things very reliably many times, while with Alagaësian magic you could do basically anything, but with much less certainty of outcome and a greater level of personal danger when using more powerful spells.
The rest of her, though, thought they were crazy to keep using such a risky method for magic as one that literally drained their life-force to fuel it.
Though she had to admit, their wards were much more useful than hers.
...
After that, they moved on to mental abilities. Much to Trissa's surprise, she was told that it was not just dragons, but almost all magic users (and some non-mages) that had the ability to speak to, invade, and control the minds of others.
"So, how does one protect themselves from magic-users if they can invade your mind?" She asked.
"Anyone with the right training can learn to defend themselves from mental attack." Arya said, somewhat patronizingly.
"Ok, so how do you do that?"
"Focus on one thing, an image, a feeling, a sound, what have you; and think only about that. Whatever you are thinking of will be all your attacker will be able to see, and that will help keep them out of your mind. Once you think you are ready, nod, and I will attempt to breach your defenses and take control."
"Very well." Trissa said, closing her eyes.
After about a half minute, she nodded for Arya to begin.
The elf closed her eyes as well and struck out at Trissa's mind with a narrow lance of thought. Trissa grimaced and felt her defenses bend under the vicious attack, but managed to keep Arya out of her mind.
Arya couldn't help but give the Dunmer some credit. For having never used a mental defence before she was holding up rather well; keeping her defenses somewhat fluid as her thoughts cycled through a series of four faces, and making it more difficult for Arya to find a crack in the mental wall to exploit.
However, Arya was much more experienced that Trissa in the field of mental combat, and it took less than a minute after that first strike to wiggle into and then shatter the Dragonborn's barrier, breaking into her mind proper and seize control of her limbs; forcing Trissa to tense up against her will.
Arya held control for a moment, then just as she began to pull back into her mind and end the exercise, another presence, like before, slammed into her thought-tendril with a mental roar.
"You DARE return here, Joor? And you would try to take control of a Dovah? I will rend you apart!" The other mind raged, and before Arya could extract herself more began to pile on. Suddenly the native elf found herself on the defensive, desperately trying to fend off these alien consciousnesses, unable to escape back into her own head, trapped by these vicious monsters as pain shoot through her mind as they ripped and tore at her mental probe, screeching and roaring and shouting in that guttural tongue that Trissa dropped into every so often.
Then suddenly another mind was there, pulling her attackers off, and after a few frantic moments she was able to break free, snapping back into her own head and collapsing to her knees, skull pounding.
"Arya!" Eragon cried, rushing to her side. "Are you alright? What happened?"
"I'm fine." She said, forcing herself to her feet while ignoring Eragon's offered hand. Turning her attention back to her opponent, she saw that Trissa's face was scrunched with concentration and more than a little pain, hands on her temples as she swayed somewhat on her feet.
"What did you do?" Arya snarled at Trissa. "What were those...things inside your head?"
The pained look abated somewhat, and the Dunmer focused on her evaluator. "My apologies, I had no idea that they would react like that. I've never had someone else inside my mind before, as I said."
"What. Are. They." Arya said again, forcing her voice to a calmer tone, though inside she still seethed.
Trissa sighed, wincing as something inside her skull caused pain to flare. "Those were the souls of the Dragons I have slain over the years, and the souls of the Dragons they consumed to gain power, and the souls those dragons consumed, and beyond that third stage the minds of the Dov are so faint as to not be detectable to me."
Arya looked a little taken aback by that. "Those were-"
"Dragons, yes, as I said." Trissa snapped, her temper fraying as she tried to quiet the roaring in her mind while answering Arya's questions.
"How many were there?" Eragon asked Arya quietly, trying to draw her attention away from Trissa, sensing some growing conflict on the edge of the interaction.
Trissa head him, however, and answered for the native elf. "There are one hundred and sixty-two Dovahsiil that I took personally, four hundred-odd souls taken those dragons: who are a notably quieter than that first group, and roughly a seven hundred beyond them who are little more than echoes in the depths of my mind." The Dunmer said, her voice a bit more even as the dragon souls began to calm down.
She gave a thin, humorless smile to the human rider. "As you can imagine, it gets a little...crowded in here."
There were a few moments of quiet as the knowledge that over a thousand Dragons made their home in this woman's head sunk in, before Nasuada spoke up from the sidelines, having remained more-or-less silent while Arya evaluated Trissa's skills.
"Perhaps it would be best if we took a short break." The leader of the Varden suggested. "You have been working for a good few hours, Mrs. Darkfire. Jerra," she said, turning to the servant who had accompanied her to this assessment, "please go to the kitchens, and get a few men to bring food and drink. I think we could all use it at this point."
"Yes, my lady." The younger girl said before hurrying off. Trissa nodded her appreciation before heading over to a patch of shade near the edge of the field and taking a seat.
Nassuada's expression turned a little more analytical as she turned away from the dark elf, gesturing for Arya, Eragon, and Trianna to join her as she walked a short distance away.
The Varden's magical experts gathered about her, and Nasuada spoke, all business.
"Well? What are your opinions?" She asked, eyes moving between the three spellcasters.
Trianna just shook her head. "I cannot really say anything, my lady. Her skills were far beyond my own abilities, and what with her use of an entirely different kind of magic…I was struggling just to keep up."
Eragon nodded in agreement. "Aye, she's different. But there's no mistaking she's powerful. And the very fact that her magic is new means that she'd have an advantage against both common soldiers and spellcasters alike. And invisibility…I can't begin to imagine the energy or complexity we'd have to use to manage the kind of visual cloaking she can summon in mere moments."
"She is…unique." Arya said after a moment. "And as Eragon said, she is powerful and skilled with her spells, and the mechanics of her magic means she can hold nothing back in her attacks and not kill herself, not to mention fight with more traditional means." The elf paused, as if debating whether to continue, but spoke on. "To be frank, based on what I've seen, I would say she'd have a good chance of defeating some of the elven warriors I know using her magic alone."
That gave all of them pause: Arya had examined most of the spellcasters who had joined the Varden, including the now-dead Twins, and never had she said anything close to that about human mages. Even Eragon, after all his training and growth since he'd become a dragon rider, wasn't sure he could best an Elf in a purely-magical confrontation. At least not without Saphira's help.
There were several moments of quiet as the Alagaësians processed this. Then Nasuada nodded, apparently satisfied. "And what of her mental defenses?" She asked.
"Her defenses are rather weak...but in all honesty, it doesn't really matter. I pity the mage who attempts to break into her mind. Those...things are vicious, and they are many. It would take a great number of minds to break through the guardians to reach her memories if Mrs. Darkfire didn't want the invader to gain access."
"Hm." Nasuada said, looking at the Dragonborn intently as her mind ran through a variety of plans.
"You called them 'Things'." Eragon said after a moment of silence. "Why is that? She said that they were the minds of Dragons."
Arya glanced at the Dragonborn, who had taken a seat on a crate and was watching the masses of Varden soldiery going through their drills.
"Whatever it was that attacked me…they were not dragons." Arya said firmly. "Their minds were full of…savage brutality, and greed, and a desire to dominate everything in existence, from Joor to..." Arya stopped, realizing she had unconsciously used a foreign word, one left imprinted on her mind during the struggle. "From mortals, to each other." She corrected. "They are not dragons." Arya said again, almost as if trying to convince herself.
Eragon glanced over at Saphira, and the two shared a look, but the Rider wisely decided to drop the matter. Just then, Jerra returned carrying a tray of glasses filled with chilled wine, accompanied by several men carrying platers of food.
The Varden leadership thanked the men and took some food each, while Jerra made her way over to Trissa somewhat cautiously.
"Miss?" She said hesitantly. "Would you like some wine?"
Trissa groggily opened her eyes, having slipped into a half-nap in the cloying heat. She looked up at the nervous girl and gave a small smile.
"Yes, that would be lovely, thank you." She said, taking the proffered cup and tipping it towards the servant before taking a long swig.
Jerra smiled nervously back at the sitting woman before scurrying back to Nasuada's side. The group consumed the small meal in relative silence, quickly finishing the meat and bread.
Seeing that her observers had finished, Trissa stood and made her way over to them, her usual demeanor having returned with the Dragons quieting down.
"So," Trissa said, drawing out the word a bit. "I assume I passed the Magic exam? What's next?"
Arya stepped forward, and Trissa could pick up the faintest hint of eager savagery on the Elf's otherwise stoic face.
"Now," Arya said, her voice once again perfectly calm, "we shall evaluate your combat skill, via a sparring match with the Varden's most proficient fighter. In this instance, me."
Trissa's lips curled into a grin. "Lovely. Lead the way."
…
Today was turning out to be a rather…interesting day, Eragon thought.
First there was...well, everything that the woman had said about who and what she was, and where she came from. The Rider was still trying to wrap his mind around all the different things she talked about: Daedra and Divines, other worlds and realms, and her (somehow) being both a 'Dark Elf' and a Dragon at the same time! In any other instance, he would have dismissed it as the ramblings of a Lunatic.
But Saphira had confirmed it, so he had no choice but to believe the word of this 'Dragonborn'.
And then there was the way her magic worked in a manner completely different from that which they used. Part of him, the part that had been hardened by war, was already considering how her abilities could be used to hasten the fall of Gallbatorix and the Empire. But more of him was cautious: this new method of magic was an unknown, and unknowns could be very dangerous.
But perhaps the most shocking thing was just how flustered Arya seemed to be getting. Eragon could think of five, maybe six times he'd ever seen the elf completely drop the rigid control she kept over her expression; and yet the Dark Elf had caused her to slip up three times in one day.
What is it about her that's riling Arya up so much? He thought at Saphira, placing a hand on her foreleg as the two elven women moved towards a sparring ring.
The Dragoness hummed thoughtfully. I think…it might be a combination of her being Dovahkiin, and how almost everything she's said and done goes against some of the deepest beliefs of the Elves. She 'said' after a moment.
Eragon looked up at her. How so?
Saphira tilted her head so one of her eyes was gazing down at her rider. Well, just look at her magic. Magic and the Ancient Language are very important part of Elven life; Oromis and Glaedr told us that themselves. The Elves know almost everything you could ever know about magic; their native tongue is the Ancient Language, and they are the greatest spellcasters in the land outside the riders. Then, this woman comes along and completely changes that fact, by showing that there are other ways to do magic, that don't rely on the Ancient Language at all. She is a threat to their dominance of Magical Skill in a way not even the Riders were: that is going to cause problems.
And that's not even mentioning what she said about these 'Gods' who supposedly created our world. Saphira gave a snort at the thought.
Hm…alright, and what about her being Dragonborn? Eragon asked.
Saphira gave him the most deadpan expression a dragon could manage. She is a dragon-slayer in a land with very few dragons; and the Elves have an almost unhealthy attachment to us. That is going to cause issues.
Eragon cocked his head. Unhealthy? You don't seem to object to their attention when we visit Esmerelda. He said somewhat teasingly.
Saphira snorted. Just because I enjoy their attention doesn't make it any less obsessive. And then, consider that she doesn't simply claim to be a Dragon-Killer: she just said the voices in her head are the minds of over a thousand dragons, a hundred of whom she apparently killed personally.
And to top it all off, she said earlier she considered killing me. The Dragon thought dryly.
Eragon smiled sheepishly. Ah, yes...I can see how that would cause issues.
Saphira rumbled as he directed his attention back to the two women, who had now taken up their positions on either end of the ring.
This is going to be a very intense fight, isn't it? Eragon thought, leaning against Saphira's side. The blue dragon rumbled lowly and wiggled a little bit to get more comfortable.
Indeed. His dragon thought back, humming faintly with anticipation.
…
Trissa looked over her soon-to-be opponent with a critical eye. She was slim and lithe, which indicated a lot of speed and maneuverability. Likely had a very fluid fighting style, and a similar level of strength to herself based on her musculature.
"So, what are the terms of the fight?" She asked her opponent.
"We continue until one of us yields or gets their opponent into a losing position." Arya said, drawing her blade and speaking a few words in the Ancient Language. The spell caused a small blue spark to appear between her thumb and index finger, which she quickly ran over the edge of her sword.
"Do you have a way to dull the edge of your weapons?" She asked as the spark snapped out of existence.
Trissa nodded, drawing her daggers before focusing on her sizable Magika stores, a pulse of green alteration energy running down her arms to form a slightly glowing barrier over her blades.
"Then let us not waste any time." Arya said, falling into a fighting stance, feet shoulder-width and her thin, single-edged sword held in her right hand, off to her side. Trissa followed, spreading and bending her legs slightly as she flipped Soulblaze and Flametongue into reverse grips.
The two women stood there for a few moments, waiting for someone to make the first move.
Then at almost the same instant, they exploded into movement.
Arya shot forward, swinging her sword right to left at Trissa's side. The dunmer jumped back, avoiding the strike, and fell into a quick crouch as she landed before darting towards the other elf, intent on getting inside her guard and using the shorter range of her daggers to end the fight quickly.
However, Arya recovered from her swing faster that Trissa had anticipated, turning the missed strike into an upwards slash at her right hip, forcing Trissa to stop her charge and directly deflect the attack with Flametongue.
The attack glanced away, but even that glancing blow rattled Trissa's arm with its strength. And the Dovahkiin was no weakling herself.
The two disengaged for a moment, and Trissa looked over her foe with a more cautious eye now that she had seen some of her combat style.
She's fast like I thought, and much stronger than she looks. Trissa thought, taking a few steps to the right to mirror Arya's movements. I should have realized that, after those two attacked me yesterday. Hm... not enough time to properly analyze her skill level yet, but she's definitely on par with Hadvar at least. Might actually have to pull the sword for this one…
Trissa grimaced at the though, loath to give this smug woman the 'honor' of being beaten by her sword-to-sword, but if it came to that or losing…
Well, the Dragonborn didn't like to lose.
"So, shall we continue?" Trissa goaded, flipping Flametongue back to a standard grip and adopting a different stance than her first one.
Arya's eyes narrowed, and she attacked again.
This time Arya swept down in an overhead cut at Trissa's shoulder, but she deflected it with a rap from Soulblaze and stabbed at Arya's gut with Flametongue. Arya twisted to the side, and the strike glanced along her side.
With Trissa inside her guard, Arya recovered from her dodge and struck at Trissa's face with her elbow, trying to force her back. She was somewhat successful, as the other elf ducked and rolled to her left to avoid the blow, coming back to her feet and launching at Arya again, swiping with her daedric dagger. Arya parried with the hilt of her sword then struck with a backhand, catching Trissa's exposed left side with her blade, causing a faint grunt of pain to force its way past the Dragonborn's lips.
Trissa used the strike to her advantage though, catching the sword against her side with her arm and twisting her blade around the crossguard, pulling Arya forwards, off balance…
And right into her uppercut.
Arya's head snapped back and she stumbled away, still retaining enough thought to yank her sword out of Trissa's trap. Now on the defensive as the Dragonborn followed up on her attack, Arya barely managing to deflect the flurry of slashes and stabs that Trissa aimed at her, eventually managing to spin away and come back with an overhead slash of her sword that blurred through the air, and was stopped on the crossed blades of Trissa's daggers.
The two pulled apart, and then came back together moments later.
The next few minutes were a mixed flurry of stabs and slashes, jabs and parries, as the fighters danced and weaved around each other; steel, ebony, and dragonbone blurring through the air as they exchanged blows, the two elves almost matching in the speed of their strikes as weapons and limbs blurred through the air in a display that left the onlookers in awe at the sheer skill of the two fighters.
After what seemed like an age, the two disengaged again and Trissa took stock of the situation.
So far, they seemed rather evenly matched in skill. She had scored some blows on Arya, and Arya had scored blows on her (though there were less of them, Trissa noted with some satisfaction), but none were telling enough to end the fight. However, she got the feeling that she had felt the local's strikes more than Arya had felt hers.
With the dulled edges of her daggers and the loss of their Flame enchantments to do additional damage, Trissa couldn't seem to get enough power behind her blows to hinder her opponent in any meaningful way, while Arya's superhuman strength and the weight of her sword meant that Trissa was most certainly feeling the hits that connected.
Additionally, Trissa was starting to feel the weight in her limbs and a raggedness to her breathing that showed the beginnings of fatigue, while her opponent seemed to have just broken a sweat; her breathing only slightly more labored than at the start of the fight.
Like it or not, it looked like she was going to have to get serious.
…
Arya watched her dark-skinned opponent carefully as they once again parted, the break giving her the chance to catch what little breath she had lost and take stock of the fight.
The dark-skinned elf was skilled, there was no doubt about that. Very few fighters could match her blow-for-blow like the so-called dragonborn had; and those who could were either Elves, or Eragon. And even in the rider's case, he had the advantage of a partially-elven physiology and training from some of the greatest blade-masters in the land.
Still, the 'Dunmer' couldn't match her in strength, and it looked like she tired much faster than Arya did, so it would simply be a matter of…
Arya's focus narrowed again on her opponent as she made another shift in her feet, watchful for a sudden attack.
But her opponent's body language didn't speak to that, it instead was a rather slow shift in stance and posture, perhaps indicating another change in her fighting style, such as what happened at the start of the fight?
Arya's curiosity was peaked, and seeing how this was a spar, she decided to wait and see where this went, her annoyance with the woman curtailed in favor of learning more about her and her fighting style.
To the surprise of both Arya and their observers, Trissa then sheathed her daggers, the greenish-energy dulling the edge of the daggers vanishing moments before they slid into the sheaths on her hips.
"What are you doing?" Arya asked, a little confused but still on guard. "Are you forfeiting?" She said, more than a little condescension in her voice.
"Nid, Mon." Trissa growled, and Growl is an accurate description, for her voice was now deeper and harsher than before, raspy and... savage, with an underlying power that echoed the strange energy of her 'Shouts'.
Idly, a small part of Arya's mind likened it to one of Saphira's snarls.
Trissa's hand rose to the hilt of the sheathed sword on her back, wrapping around the black leather wrapping.
"I'm just getting serious." The Dunmer said, and drew the blade with a hiss of displaced air, the blade pointing towards the ground for a moment, before it was lifted over head and taken in a two-handed grip, Trissa taking a breath in and exhaling slowly as she lowered the sword from its raised position to hold it before her in a position which we might recognize as the Ready stance of a Samurai.
The stance was one of control, and of waiting power; as if the Elf was a coiled spring just waiting to burst with her contained energy. It had the added effect of giving the observers of the fight a good look at Trissa's sword; a single-edged, three-foot long, slightly curved blade designed and forged in the ancient style of the Akaviri.
The sword was made primarily of Ebony, the blade a deep, shining black without the gold designs that were usually part of weapons and armor made of the material; though small whitish flecks could be glimpsed in the metal when the sunlight reflected off the obsidian blade. The guard and pommel were burnished silver, the bright metal contrasting the darkness of the blade and hilt. The guard was ornate, moulded into a design reminiscent of the coils of a serpent, and there was a small shard of obsidian set into the pommel.
In addition to being of fine make, the sword had obvious enchantments on it, like Trissa's other weapons, but even more apparent in this case. Blue lightning flickered along the length of the sword, and it excluded a faint, sickly purple glow that made Saphira (and by extension, Eragon) uncomfortable. It also had an inscription on the blade, written in the Dovah Alphabet, which glowed yellow-orange as if the metal forming the letters was fresh out of the forge.
They read; Dinok Ahrk Yol.
Death and Fire.
Once, this blade was known as Dragonbane; a weapon forged in ancient times by the Akaviri warriors who first swore their lives to an ancient Dovahkiin, as a gift to their new lord. But when that ancient blade shattered in the skull of the World Eater, the Dragonborn spent almost a full year gathering the materials and skills necessary to rebuild her most treasured weapon, better and more lethal than it was before.
And such was the Bane of Drakes reborn in the flames of the Skyforge, imbued with the power of the Thu'um itself, as Dragonrage.
Trissa locked eyes with Arya, and blinked. The native let out a small gasp.
For in the split second her lids closed, the Dovahkiin's crimson eyes shifted to the slit-shaped, golden eyes of a Dragon.
""Nu Hi Fen Luft Fin Dovah, Fahliil; Ahrk Hi Fen Mah," the Dunmer growled (in a quite literal manner), as the same green energy flowed down her arms and over the sword before she leapt at Arya with no warning, and a blazing speed that she did not possess before.
Instantly, Arya found herself on the back foot, as the blitz of the other elf forced her back step after step, the other woman's blows not matching her own in strength and surpassing her in speed. A downward slash was barely deflected, only for the blow to snake around faster than the mortal eye could follow into an upwards cut at her armpit that she barely dodged.
After another dozen seconds of frantic defensive swordplay, Arya tried to counter attack and retake the initiative of the bout. She stabbed at her opponent's shoulder, trying to force her back and gain some room to maneuver, but Trissa simply tilted her body ever so slightly, allowing the tip of the sword to glance off the boney scales protecting her shoulder and sending Arya stumbling, off balance and surprised by the lack of resistance to her strike.
And Trissa seized this moment with no hesitation.
Releasing a hand from her sword, she swept her foot out at the other elf's ankles while striking her chest with an openhanded punch.
The result was that Arya found her feet thrust from beneath her, while a hand between her breasts lifted her from the ground for a split second before forcibly slamming her into the dirt with such force as to force the air from her lungs, leaving the elf gasping as dark spots swam across her vision and her ears rang.
When her vision cleared, she saw Trissa leaning over her, the tip of her sword pressed against her throat. Seeing that Arya's eyes had refocused on her, Trissa pressed the blade ever so slightly harder into the flesh of Arya's throat.
"Yield." She snarled…but there was something hiding behind the anger and savagery of the word, it was almost…pleading?
Nevertheless, Arya knew when she was beaten. "I yield." She said begrudgingly, and a faint look of relief flashed across Trissa's face, confusing the native elf even more.
The Dragonborn sucked in a breath, and with almost physical reluctance, stepped back from her downed opponent, closing her eyes as she sheathed Dragonrage with a shnick.
When her eye opened again, the golden, reptilian orbs were gone, back to the deep red of the Dark Elf's normal gaze. Without speaking a word to the downed native, Trissa turned to the cluster of onlookers who were just now making their way towards the pair.
"I assume that is satisfactory?" She said in a clipped tone, her attention directed towards Nasuada.
The leader of the Varden paused in her step, looking quizzically at the elf. "Yes, that should be more than enough for the combat evaluation…"
"Then I shall take my leave for the moment. Send someone to find me when you have passed your verdict."
And with that she turned and walked swiftly away, soon lost in the mass of the army.
Arya gazed after her for a long moment, looking back to see Eragon once again standing over her, offering a hand up. This time Arya took it, and the rider pulled her to her feet, placing his other hand on her shoulder to steady her when her legs shook, her body still in shock from her rather abrupt meeting with the ground.
"You are alright?" Eragon asked.
Arya nodded, saying nothing, before also walking away without a word. Eragon looked back at Saphira, who was gazing after the departed outlander. She looked back at her Partner as she felt his gaze, flicking the end of her tail.
You were right. She thought. That was quite the duel.
Eragon just sighed.
A/N: Well...Hello there, everyone.
...
This is...a lot later coming out than I wanted. I'm really sorry about that, especially considering I told someone I'd have this out in maybe 2 weeks...well over a month ago.
There has been a lot of shit that contributed to the stupid time it took to get this chapter out. The biggest thing is that I'm working basically 7 days a week this summer to build up money to live on during teh school year, 5 days on a roughly 7-5:30 schedule, and that kind of...drained my desire and motivation to write. Add that onto how I had to re-write a good half of this chapter (the Magic and Mental tests, and part of the Duel) aand you get...this.
Again, really sorry.
But regardless of my piss-poor performance, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you have any questions, comments, or criticisms, please feel free to leave a Review. Follow and Fave if you enjoyed, and maybe check out the other story I'm working on alongside this one, Necessary Monsters: the Sci-Fi Crossover to this one's Fantasy. I'll be writing up Chapter 12 for that next (I alternate between the 2 so I don't get bored of one story or the other).
Also, if any of you would be interested in beta or just proof-reading this story, please PM me. I have plenty of room to improve.
So, until the next one...
Fah Bormahu ahrk fin Dovahkiin, Fonaar!