A/N: Yay! Biddy! The big tree he's curled around... You'll see. *cackles evilly*. AHEM. Sorry. *sheepish* I just like to mess with Character's heads...

DISCLAIMERS: I AM NOT CP. DO I LOOK LIKE CP? NO. I, FOR ONE, AM A BLONDE FEMALE. Murtagh and Thorny belong to him, not me. And I guess he can claim Biddy, Eragon, Eragon and Saphira too...

But Raven, Shadefire and the wolves belong to me. ME.

Secrets of Life

Chapter Five

Riders of Old

Murtagh gasped. Underneath him, Thorn halted in shock, and that voice... So much more powerful and so much older than even Shruikan's... It rattled them both to the core, Murtagh knew. The great white Dragon lifted His colossal head and looked them both in the eye without trying. For how would He need to when He could burn them both to ashes with a well-aimed, gigantic white fireball?

Stop hyperventilating. He will do nothing of the sort. Raven's sharp voice resounded in his head, and Murtagh started a little when it did. He shook himself, and could feel Thorn do the same beneath him.

The huge white dragon looked at Raven reproachfully, before saying, Oh, why do you have to ruin my fun? I haven't actually had fun in over a thousand years before you and Shadefire came along. Give me some credit for being able to laugh.

Raven chuckled through the mental link. Of course, Bid'daum-elda, she said amusedly, before Shadefire snorted and dived through the gargantuan tree branches of the huge Oak. Thorn quickly recovered his wits and sprang after her.

The huge branches would have been able to hold thousands of dragons, if they so wished. When they landed, Murtagh could instantly feel something... Old, something... Powerful. Like the great Gods themselves had lodged themselves in the very fibers of the tree.

"Whatever you're thinking, not even close. Reach out with your mind," Raven advised, in such a conversational tone that it almost seemed like she was simply giving him archery tips. Murtagh did as she suggested, and was nearly thrown backwards from the mental capacity of Bid'daum and... The tree? He reached again, and was this time rewarded with a voice, so - painfully - similar to his brother's somehow, but also thankfully different, with a more ancient ring to it, like a huge bronze bell compared to a silver dinner bell; less clarity, less innocence, but a huge, ringing bong.

Greetings, Red Rider and Red Dragon. I am Eragon, first Shur'turgal of the Order. I can see you've met my partner, Bid'daum. Pay him no heed, he usually just sleeps every waking hour of every day. The only time he was really awake was when he was training Shadefire... Though I suppose the same could be said for me.

Was that why they sounded so similar? He had heard that his brother and the first Dragon Rider had looked alike, but he found it a bit hard to believe that they sounded the same, too. But, the ancient Rider had spoken in the elven tongue, so he supposed it must be true.

What surprised him most though - even more than the ancient masters themselves - was their offer to train Thorn and himself, both in physical and mental exercises. They considered it a moment, before gratefully accepting.

The next month was the best and hardest month he had ever faced. Every morning, after breaking their fast, Murtagh and Raven dueled with the blade, whilst Thorn and Shadefire wrestled not far off. Every time so far, Raven had managed to both disarm and defeat him every single duel. Thorn was having no better luck.

After this, they flew to the Great Tree, where Murtagh strengthened his magical skills and strength, and Thorn learned flight techniques with both Bid'daum and Shadefire.

After a few hours, they would stop for a meal, before moving on to mental defense and offense. They warred mentally for hours, always on differing sides of battle. Sometimes, it was all three riders against all three dragons, sometimes it was a three-way battle between the separate pairs, sometimes it was Eragon and Bid'daum against the younger pairs. However, it was usually Raven who won these, even against the elders, because of her defensive technique.

It was a vast, complex idea that was hard to explain, but she gave a shot at it nonetheless. In a sense, she said, she used a decoy 'personality,' wrapping thoughts of another's life around her own consciousness, and then putting barriers around this. When someone got past the 'outer shell,' as she called it, they would find themselves lost within a huge maze of thoughts and feelings, where she would instantly attack with a powerful mental force. And, if someone got past that, they would have an even more solid wall to break through beyond the decoy 'past'. Though Murtagh had tried countless times to get past the first barrier, he couldn't make a dent on it, as far as he could see. Nor could he find cracks or weaknesses. But when she attacked him... It was an altogether hopeless cause for the defendant.

Shadefire was much the same.

Even Eragon and Bid'daum couldn't stand up to her strategies and plans, for she always thought ahead. As another month went by, and still another, he began to wonder if Raven was all that she seemed.

There was one day, though, when the snow had started to fall again, that they didn't start the day, like so many others, with a duel. Shadefire had taken Thorn to go hunting, and Raven had asked him to come to the lake where they had met, so many months before.

When he emerged from the trees, it was to see Raven, standing with Maelstrom and Storm by her side. The wolves nodded to him, and he nodded back. He had actually gotten used to the fact that they could change into humans at will, though it had startled him when Storm had first shown him how she turned into a slim, older-looking but somehow young woman, who had a faint motherly air. She was always dressed in storm-cloud gray as a human, and he found they fit her. Maelstrom had shown him how he turned into a fierce-looking redhead, and Murtagh had made a promise to himself to never make the wolf angry at him.

This day, Raven was wearing a black, fur-lined hood, and fingerless woolen gloves. Her mask was hanging below her chin, but as she beckoned to him, she pulled it up to cover the bottom half of her face.

When he reached her, she greeted them through their mental connection they shared, somewhat tentatively, with each other. Fine morning, Murtagh. I trust you slept well?

Well enough, he replied, and it was true. The nightmares that had been plaguing him before had mostly gone, and he suspected some of it was Storm's doing.

Good. Today, I wish to show you how to shift into a wolf, if that is alright? Storm and Maelstrom both agree that I should at least show you, in the case that you need to make a quick getaway. Murtagh blinked, somewhat surprised by her answer.

You... You would do that? He asked hesitantly, as if he thought she was talking to someone else.

Of course. After all, if you decide to stay with us for any amount of time, it might help if you understood what everyone else was saying without having to pry into another's mind.

He nodded, smirking slightly at the thought. Thank you, for this honor.

Raven visibly rolled her eyes. Oh, please. It is Pyria you should be thanking, not me. Come, it's time we started, she finished, with a wicked gleam in her eye.

A/N: Short, I know, but I didn't know where else to end it. He he, yeah, I like hanging you off cliffs. *ignores sharp flying objects bouncing off invisible shield* And if you do kill me, who'll be there to keep writing the story? Hmm? Chopped liver? No. No one. AT ALL. Maybe my sis could step in... But as of right now, she's down in Houston while I am in New England. So there.
Anywho, reviews are loved, ConCrit is appreciated, and flames will be used to bake mom's blueberry pies. Yum.

Falcon