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"And just who is your wife?" Florina asked in the ancient language. Lifaen had feared this, but couldn't think of anything to say that would still be close to the truth. He could also see a reaction in her dark eyes.

"A Rider." He finally answered in the ancient language. "She was born human but has been changed to something more than she was." It wasn't a lie per say. She had been changed by Kuldra in the years they had been bonded.

"What is her name?"

"I do not know the name she uses now. All I know is that I should be at her side." It was getting hard to keep up the facade that she wasn't his wife.

"How does she serve me?" The queen asked. She was still in the ancient language and it was getting hard to think of half truths to tell her.

"The best she can." He said. Right now, the way he saw it, the queen was using his wife's body to rule the land and her people. She frowned.

"What is the color of her dragon?" Florina asked, still in the ancient language. There was nothing for it now. She would figure out the truth now. The game was over.

"Gold," he said. "She rides a gold dragon." Lifaen tried to take a deep breath as the pieces clicked into place for his wife. "Yes, you are my wife. We lived on Vroengard together. We loved each other. It was the only bright piece of your imprisonment, our marriage. I was your guard when you lived in the clearing and I fell in love with you and you fell in love with me. We married in the way elves do, took each other as mates. We couldn't do it in the human way because Eragon and Arya would have frowned upon it and had us both killed to prevent us from having any children who would carry your blood that your father tied to his throne." Lifaen had no idea if what he was saying was the truth to her. But he made sure his intent was clear, as well as his love. He didn't mean her any harm and he loved her. Hopefully she was getting that from his words.

"Say I believe you." She said, slipping out of the ancient language. "What made you think to come here? Why should I believe that you would rather be with me than one of your kind?" She drew her sword and pointed it at him. He held up his hands and took a step back. She stepped around the desk and rested the tip on his collar bone. "Why should I believe that you are willing to betray your own queen just to be with me?" She hissed.

"Because it is the truth." He said. "I have come to be with you and make sure that you are safe." He looked into her eyes, trying to see the love in her eyes that he had spent two centuries seeing everyday. It wasn't there now. She was walling herself off from feeling. She didn't want to trust him. He didn't blame her. What he knew to be the truth wasn't the truth for her anymore. He couldn't just come out and tell her the truth. She wouldn't believe it because of the tricks the blood magic was playing on her mind. He knew he would have to go slow with her, try to get her to fall in love with him again. Slowly, he unbuckled his sword and threw it at her feet, a gesture meaning that he meant her no harm. Last time, they had fallen in love quickly. He had at least, from the moment he met her and talked to her that first night in Ceris. She had taken some convincing, but had fallen in love quickly. This time, he would have to earn her trust, and then her love. Before Delinnëa followed him and attacked the city.


"Which one of you took him?" Delinnëa asked the assembled dragons. She had no control over them, of course, but she had to know. If she knew who had taken her father across the sea, maybe she could figure out why he had gone in the first place. "Is the one who took Lifaen to Alagaësia among you? If so, I must speak with you." Finally, an amethyst dragon stepped forward.

"I took your father to the mainland. He said he intended to save his beloved from the spell that holds her captive. I would have taken him to the gates of Ilirea after I had rested from the flight across the ocean. But he was gone by the time I woke."

"He said he intended to save the Golden Rider?" Evaríyna asked. "How does he intend to do that?"

"He did not share his plan with me." The dragon said. "He only asked for passage. I took him because I sensed the truth within him that he did not mean to turn on you. That he is trying to save your mother from herself and the spell that was placed upon her." He said to Delinnëa.

She nodded and turned to look towards the castle. Both of her parents were now in harm's way if she decided to attack the city in order to get to her mother. Her uncle was refusing to help and her brother was still missing. His body had not been found in the forest and neither had Glaedr's. She had tried scrying them several times and had seen nothing. It could mean nothing and that he was hiding and nursing their wounds. But she feared that he had been captured and possibly killed. The werecats had yet to give her uncle any information about prisoners aside from Angela. She had gone to try to gain Florina's trust and now she was in the dungeons. What chance was there that her father would succeed where Angela, a woman who has known her mother her entire life, had failed.

"Thank you." She said to him and he turned to return to his fellows. He stopped and lowered his head to the child's level.

"Have hope, Child. There are forces in this world stronger than even Shade magic."


Oromis opened his eyes, breaking his recitation of the lullaby his mother had often sung to him and his sister when they were children. His father's mind had entered his field of consciousness. What was his father doing here and where was Delinnëa? It had been so long since he had felt either of their minds that was wasn't sure he would have remembered them if not for the lullaby and the memories that came with them. He was trying to keep those from his mother. There was no telling what she would do if she learned the truth. He could see that she was becoming unstable. The blood magic was tearing her mind apart. Soon, it would be merciful if they killed her. Delinnëa would never forgive him for thinking that. It would be even worse if he were to one to strike the blow. He had tried to get his mother to safety and had failed. Instead, he had been captured and tortured at the hands of his uncle. Now, his own mother was torturing him for information on how to save her. He couldn't look into her eyes for fear that he would break. If he looked into her eyes, he wouldn't be able to lie to her any longer. He would do whatever it took to save her, even if that meant telling her the truth about who she really was.

It was hard to be strong without Glaedr with him. They had been separated since they had been captured by Murtagh. He knew it was to keep him weak. Without Glaedr, he wasn't whole. He was missing a piece of himself that only Glaedr would be able to fill. Not even having his mother back would heal him if something happened to his dragon along the way. He was told that most dragons and Rider's went mad and died when their partners died. There was tell of one Rider who had survived the death of his dragon. He had set the rebellion in motion by founding the Varden before going into hiding. He had then trained his mother and uncle while they traveled together. Would Oromis become like him? Or would he become like the others who have gone mad with loss and take his own life? There was so much uncertainty surrounding him that he didn't know how things would turn out and was glad that he did not have Angela's gift of fortune reading. Knowing the future would be just as bad as not knowing, maybe worse.

The Rider turned his thoughts back to his father. His parents were in the same place once again and his mother was in trouble. What would his father do? Did he come here to turn on them all? No, he wouldn't do that. Lifaen loved his wife too much to follow in her delusion. He would save her from it or kill her so she would no longer be troubled by it. It was something that Oromis knew he couldn't do. He would never be able to raise a sword against his mother. For Delinnëa, it would be worse as mother and daughter had been closer than mother and son had been. She would never be able to kill the woman who ruled over the Empire, not without feeling so much guilt that she would soon take her own life or give in to her own madness.

"Such is the power of love I guess." Oromis thought, hoping that Glaedr would hear and finally be able to respond.


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