Hey
Finally found time to finish the update. I've been working on this particular update since the last one, hoping to update on Thanksgiving. But I don't think it would be what it was if I had. Know you guys are gonna like this one! Without further a due, here's chapter 26:By the light of early morning!
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That night, Aiedail finally saw why Eragon had dreaded his return to the Varden so... They went to the gates, guards chuckling a bit that the mighty Shadeslayer was being held by his dragon as if he was a tiny babe. Without so much as a word of questioning about the blood drenched girl following them, they opened the two, fresh pine smelling gates to let them in. Roran was waiting for them by a fruit cart when they got in.
Inside were swarms of people, crowding the marketplace. She saw so many things; she didn't know where to begin. If she hadn't been sure it wasn't, she would have sworn it was some city in the Empire, as it looked so much like so many cities she's seen before. There were kids running around in dingy rags, pit pocketing any noble they saw, who were too busy eying fine jewelry to even take a second glance. There was the sound of jangling coins as people exchanged them for food, water, and fineries. There was a mixed odor flowing about the city, from sweet pies to hardy jerky to the more unpleasant aromas of sweat and animal dung. There were jugglers preparing to entertain some nobles and servants running around in circles like chickens with their heads cut off to go get something for their masters. But there were two major differences. One was that from the poorest child, sitting cold and alone on the street, to the highest noble, probably namely Eragon, smiles dominated the area. Sure some people fought for god knows what, but they all knew they had bright futures. Another major difference it no matter where she looked, she saw no one who seemed to be a slave; nor anyone who sold them.
Saphira finally dropped Eragon to the pavement. Rather flustered, he turned to Aiedail and opened his mouth to talk to her, but before he could get out a single word, people of all stations had surrounded them and were busy asking them to do this or begging them to do that. They'd been in the city for only just nearing ten seconds and suddenly Eragon was whisked away, a look of pleading on his face. Before he disappeared, she heard him yell, "Go to the palace and ask for Salma. She'll have a room and food for you." And with that, the Dragon Rider disappeared into the crowd. She did not see him at all after that. It was as if he and Roran and Saphira simply disappeared off the face of the world.
She was left alone to joist through the thick as butter crowds. The currents of the crowd were nothing like a stream. One second, someone would be pushing her this way and she'd get trapped against the other bodies; be the perfumed or sweaty, clan as a whistle or muddier then a pig. At one time, she felt herself being touch with a strange, slimy goop. It stuck to her elbow like a burr and had a weird, almost burning sensation. She instinctively tried to wipe it off, but was shocked to find it wasn't a goop at all. She pulled down and her eyes settled upon a slimy, mucky creature which squirmed in her fingers. Suddenly, it calmed and the sensation was back. She tried to pry it from her fingers, but when she did, her finger started to bleed. She cursed and flung it to a nearby drain duck. It quickly took refuge from the massing crowd inside.
She found herself wishing she was all alone rather then in that hot, smelly crowd. The sight of a man covered in sores who proceeded to rub up against her arm. The smell of unwashed bodies filled the air. The taste on the winds of salty sweat and no end in sight. Her poor skin repeatedly sticking to random people as she past them. She missed the wind she felt when a dragon flew through the sky. Heck, even standing in a dragon's breath was better then this.
The crowd seemed to grow thicker as she reached the center of town. Her body didn't go by a fraction of a second without colliding into another. She'd gather her strength and hide her disgust just in time to crash into someone else. But somehow, all of it…it felt…good. Maybe it was the knowledge that she was in a free place, safe from the horrors of Uru'baen.
The crowd was an endless sea. Only, each atom was so different from the last, it scarcely seemed to be able to be from the same time Finally, the sea began to thin into a river as she neared the palace, as if it was butter that was slowly being melted away. Finally, she could stop to catch her breathe, and that's just what she did.
She sat on the curb and looked down at herself to access her condition. Her body was covered in mud, dirt and god know what else as if it was a second skin. She knew that she'd probably meet someone of high importance before she even got fixed up, as this was a palace and there is more the just a king or queen within those walls. With a sigh, she decided to get it over with. As she approached the palace walls, though, she got sneers from the guards.
"What business does one such as you have in our palace?" one growled, obviously perturbed by her lower rank appearance. He wore little armor, so she could see velvet trappings adorned his stern, cruel looking face.
"Why must you be so rude in your questioning of a lady?" she replied, completely with out thinking. She waited for what she knew would be an angry reply.
The guard, obviously fuming, climbed down from his post and rudely addressed her, "What did you say to me, you pile of horse shit?" he reached down to his belt and unsheathed a silver sword, glittering menacingly in the light of the early afternoon. He kept his sword low, but did raise his fist near her face. "I could kill you right now and not loose a wink of sleep over it. Not a wink." he was full ready to smack her across the face.
Bravely and perhaps a bit foolishly too, she carried on with her ranting. "You heard me. I am here as Rider Eragon's guest and an ambassador of the elves." She showed him her ears. "Rider Eragon instructed me to see a woman named Salma about lodging."
With malice in his hazel eyes, he let out an angry growl. Reluctantly, he left her pass, but not with out spitting on her face as she walked by. She fumed, but dared not confront him again. I'll just need to talk to them later about their rude guards…
It didn't take long for her to find Salma. She was right in the court yard, shouting out orders to a group of servants. She was a stout woman, much like a tree stump. She was garbed in well weathered clothes that were near the status of rags; they had seen far too many winters and too few washes.
"Hello…" Aiedail started. Salma turned and eyed Aiedail through slanted, perhaps a bit crooked eyes.
"ello? Another recruit? Man, ave ey gotten lax on the standards." Her voice had a strange, obviously foreign accent to it. It was also cheerful and her pudgy cheeks jiggled as she spoke like two big globs of jelly. Aiedail gave a deep sigh as she continued. "Ou an't be ore then sixteen. But iey 'uss you 'ave to start some 'here, don't you Ah, well. You can start by cleaning yourself up and then the ki'en floors." Almost instantaneously, she turned and started talking to some other lady in much richer clothes. Her skin was black as charcoal and everything about her, down to the way her hair flowed out of her scalp, had a regal feeling to it. She finally left back into the palace with an attitude filled walk. Aiedail sighed, frustrated, before tapping Salma on the shoulder.
She turned to face her and her eyes went a little wide as she saw the same girl. "'oldn't you be off 'oing your chores?"
"No, you see, that's what you didn't give me the chance to explain. I'm not here for work. Rider Eragon told me to talk to you about a room. He saved me from a mob during his recent trip to Uru'baen." She said quickly as to not give Salma a chance to interrupt. Salma looked her over again, a surprised, wide eyed look on her face. She eyed her ears, a certain horror on her face. Noting this, Aiedail tried to cover up her ears, but to no avail. Salma had already seen them. She motioned for someone to go to her and the two started talking in a series of rapid whispers.
Finally, hesitantly, she turned to Aiedail. "I'm sorry, mil'dy. I didn't know. A course, a course! I'll show you to your room 'ight away." Suddenly, she grabbed her arm like a child would her raggedy doll, nearly yanking it out of its socket.
She quickly led her up a flight of beautiful stone stairs and down a glorious hall. It was as if the owner of the palace had spared no expense, every wall chiseled to angel-like perfection.
But she didn't see too much, as the maid rushed her to a dark, mahogany door. She stuck in a brass key, opened the door, and pushed her inside. Then, with a loud bang like thunder, the door was shut.
Inside, the room was cool and dark. A small, red candle glinted near the corner. It was the only light in the room, but it was enough to make out rich velvet ivory tapestries flowing gently in the remaining aftermath of the slamming door. The light breeze also drifted a light sent of pine needles around the room. Somehow it was… familiar. Flashes of a mammoth green creature flowed through her head.
She could see off to the corner a bookcase filled with mountain upon mountain of books. There were more their then she could read in a life time. Or, at least, a human life time. She really didn't know how long elves lived. She knew almost nothing about them. All of the books seemed to be scripted with an elegant hand, as if they all had to be perfect. She knew even from far away that they were written in several different languages; of which only two she knew.
A beautiful midnight blue swan bed lie near the other corner, silhouetted by curtains of blue lace. Then bed called out to her, like a siren with its soft, heavenly look. She imagined it would feel like sleeping on a cloud. A rich, deep blue pine dresser painted with vibrant, deep green pine trees sat nearby, with a few, peculiar items taking up space on it. There was a deep green jewelry box, engraved with a simple green emblem on it. It was of an elegant look, as though it had been crafted by a god. There was also a book with queer markings on its surface. She noted that it matched several other books on the book case. And finally, a small, gold locket with a star on it. It twinkled, even in the low light, catching her gaze like a bear would a fish. It hypnotized her, its star seemed to be trying to be as bright as a real star.
Suddenly overtook by exhaustion, she climbed onto the blackish-blue bed. As she lay on the swan-down pillows, she it hit her just how much her life had changed in the last few days. Only a few nights ago, she had been lying on a bed soft as this, but in a place so different, it was hard to even keep up. One day she hadn't even known there was a war, the next she was on the opposite side. The dark and light cites were so different yet so similar.
Her skin started to crawl, though, as she remembered how dirty she probably was. As she looked over her outfit, she found it much out of her taste. Bloody, dirty, and smelled much like a dead skunk. She wondered for a moment then hopped out of bed, sure she wouldn't be able to sleep like this. She went over to the closet to see if there easy anything good. She swung open its doors and was assaulted by an extra breeze of pine. Her eyes were shocked to find an array of the finest, most beautiful clothes she'd ever seen. A white, swan-down-lined dress made with the sweetest silks and satins. A deep blue number that glittered like a sunset on the sea in the dim light even. Several different green ones; one a low v-cut with a gentle black slip underneath, a long, velvet one with gold trim, and finally, a huge, gorgeous number much like a freshly-opened super dewy, extravagant flower. Before she touched even one, she heard someone clearing their throat behind her.
"If you're going to raid my closet, could you at least ask me next time?" a voice took her by surprise, like a icy day in summer. It cut through the air with the precision of a well aimed arrow. A small, delicate, white hand spun her around and she found herself face to face with the most beautiful lady she'd ever met. Her skin was as white and firm as a swan's coat. Her hair, the most graceful black swan feathers, draped over her head like a cloud. As a whole, she did not at all smell like anything unpleasant. It was as though she was a black forest covered in a fresh coat of white snow. Her features were refined; every trace that she was anything but the face of that of an angel was missing. The last thing she noticed about her was her eyes, but they were something she could never forget. They were like a cat's, a bit cold, but powerful and a heart piercing green. The lady's jaw had seemed to come unhinged and for a tenth of a second she thought she saw panic in her eyes. As well she should, looking at her appearance.
"I'm sorry, milady. I guess I was sent into the wrong room." Her eyes remained locked on Aiedail's for a second, and then finally she replied.
"No, it's fine. I never wear any of this stuff anyway." She quickly tucked her hair behind her ears. Aiedail gaped and then reached up and felt her own, hiding them from the lady. She caught her eying them and chuckled, "How rude of me! I need to introduce myself. I am Arya, ambassador for the elves."
"I'm Aiedail. I…I think I'm an elf too…" she said bashfully.
"Of course you are…" Arya said in a strange tone, but then recovered and changed it quickly. "I can usually spot one off the bat…" she gave Aiedail a strange look. "This may seem out of the blue, but would you mind joining me for dinner later?"
Aiedail gave her a confused look. "Why?"
Arya took a moment, and then said, "Well, from the way it sounds, you are not sure who you really are. Maybe… you don't know your parents or something. I thought I might be able to help you find them, that's all. I make it my point to know everyone from and around Ellesmera."
"Sure…I guess, since my host seems to have disappeared." Aiedail said.
"And who, pray tell, is that?" Arya asked.
"The Rider Eragon, ma'am." She said meekly.
"Please, don't call me that. I have always hated things like that between friends…Eragon Shadeslayer huh?" Arya replied in a tone she'd probably use on on a small child.
"Yes ma-I mean Arya. He's my fa…well, the man I used to think was my father's brother. Maybe you know him. His name is Murt-" before she could finish, Arya grabbed her face, holding her hand up to her mouth.
"Listen, you're new here so I won't get too mad about it, but you are not, from now on, to ever speak such classified information to anyone without the okay from me or Eragon or maybe a few, select people. And even then, do so with a caution-trained tongue. There are those who here who would use such information against us." She said discreetly.
"You mean, you knew him?" Aiedail asked, curiosity growing
"Of course I did. He was…do you know how to mind speak?" Arya asked so suddenly, for a moment, it caught Aiedail off guard.
Does this answer your question? Aiedail asked sarcastically.
You catch on fast. Arya smiled, as though off thinking about something else.
Huh? Aiedail asked, puzzled.
Never mind... Now, Murtagh is the son of an evil man. His name is Morzan and he made the first member of the Foresworn, a group of Dragon Riders who died out long ago, sworn to kill every Dragon Rider who would not join Galbatorix. Morzan betrayed everyone for power...and it lead to his demise. And the same blood was expected to run thorough Murtagh's veins from the moment he was born. But the thing was, he refused to be like his father. He sought out Eragon, the first Dragon Rider since Morzan's death. When he found him, he helped him travel to the Varden and gained our trust. I was with them, but I don't remember much of it, as I was very ill at the time. Then it happened…
While on a search for remaining enemies after a big battle, two of the Varden betrayed us and Murtagh. They killed our leader, making us have his daughter lead, and they captured Murtagh and took him to Uru'baen. There, a dragon hatched for him and he was forced into imperial service. Only a few months ago, Galbatorix sent him to capture Eragon. But he didn't. Instead, he did far worse. Murtagh revealed they were brothers in the cruelest way possible…Eragon hadn't forgiven himself since. He lost a friend and the only direct member of his family. Arya ended with that abruptly and started leave, gesturing at Aiedail to follow.
SomethingMurtagh said suddenly found its way into Aiedail's head. "You may hear some pretty ghastly things about me someday, Aiedail. And some of it is true…but know this, no matter what, I love you and almost everyone else in my family."
She finally knew what he had meant. He had meant her to pass it on to Eragon. He must have always known she'd need to go. She smiled before asking aloud, "Arya, do you see Eragon a lot?"
She froze, "Yes…"
"Next time you see him, could you tell him his brother wants to say that he loves him?" Arya smiled. For a long time, as Arya lead her through the halls, she was quiet. Finally they stopped at a small door. Arya opened it with a small, brass key to reveal a small, but cozy looking room. It was nowhere near as grand as any of her earlier rooms in life had been, nor Arya's, but it had a comfortable enough bed and a balcony with which she could get a beautiful view of the city and sea. She gaped for a second. She's never seen anything like it. It was endless, waters pure and crystal clear. How many great secrets lie within its shadowy depths?
Interrupting her from her train of thought, finally, as though Arya had been contemplating her answer, she said "Yes, I will. I believe you'll find extra clothes in the closet. Get washed up and be back here by six. I'll come get you at six sharp." Arya left the room then. And with her gone, Aiedail realized how stupid she'd been being. She slung her pack off her shoulder and sifted through it. She smiled as she came upon what she was looking for…
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A knock came on the door finally, ten minutes late. Aiedail slipped on a pair of shoes she had in the closet. And then she checked her appearance one last time. She wanted to make a good impression on anyone she met that night. Her brassy hair was up in a tight bun, allowing only the smallest amount of hair to flow freely. The bit that was was greased and brushed to the sides to frame her face. Her gown was a simple, elegant thing Murtagh had made her for her birthday one year, an ivory gown with the smallest tinge of silver. She sighed at her appearance in the mirror. No matter how hard she tried, she was not satisfied with it. She finally opened the door, reluctantly, and she and Arya were off to dinner.
Arya wore a simple, deep green velvet dress. Her raven hair was pulled tightly back and her feet made no noise as she walked. Aiedail could see now things she had missed before. Heavy purple bags fell from her eyes like weights and she came across as a very tired woman. Some sort of pain, of hidden longing, though tried desperately to be hidden, still faint graced her face. Her once seeming tight skin really wasn't so tight.
As they walked, Arya explained that she had invited a few other people. All of whom, it seemed, were either of great importance, or royalty. She could help but let her mind wander, not hearing much more then one word Arya said.
Suddenly, something assaulted her. Aiedail grabbed her head as a sledge hammer beat on her skull, threatening to break it open and spill her brains onto the floor. Or at least it felt that was. It was suddenly joined by another, heavy, pulsing pain. It felt as if she'd been hit in the back of the head with a dab of coal. She fell to the ground, head pounding so hard she couldn't get up. Her chest grew tight, each breath a battle she fought to win. Her eyes seemed to be being poked out of her head as the pain intensified. All she could do was feel the pain. Noise was gone. Taste left her mouth. Vision deserted her. Any other sense was snared, caught like a rabbit in a trap before it could ever reach her brain. Finally, she blanked out. The last thing she remotely heard was a muffled mix of noises, of panic.
She finally felt a shaking on her arm. "Aiedail, are you okay?" she heard a familiar voice asking. She opened her eyes to see big brown eyes staring into hers. Brown hair feathered out in the wind and elf features glowed in the low candle light. All of his face held worry. He wore a rich looking blue tunic and pants. She gave him a pained smile. The burning began to fade, for the moment. She strived to make her feet move, but they refuse too budge. Her feet were too groggy and useless to her, like they weren't even a part of her.
She kept pushing till she could finally move them. And gingerly, she got up. Her feet suddenly failed her and she was left sprawling on the floor. Eragon's hand reached down to hers. Reluctantly, she grabbed it and he pulled he to her feet.
"I think you should go back to your room…" He said, clearly concerned.
"I'm fine." She insisted, shaking it off like she hadn't really even ever had it. She gave him a painful smile.
"No, you're not. You just blacked out for no reason. No trigger. You can't tell us you're fine when your clearly not." Arya snarled. There was worry in her voice. though she was mad at Aiedail for lying.
"You can't tell me how I feel. If I say I'm fine, I'M FINE!" Aiedail said, stubbornly. The duo's eyes were wide with worry, but they accepted her answer.
The three all came into the dining hall together. It was a large, pyramid-shaped room which seemed endless. Near the center was a spacious table with a gold-embroidered table cloth spread out across it. Candles lit its center and exposed fine china as can be. Forks, plates, knives, bowels, all empty vessels waiting to be filled. Sweet aromas drifted to their noses from the kitchen, making them forget for a second what happen to Aiedail. It didn't last long, but it was certainly enough of a distraction. At the entrance was a clock. Aiedail looked at it and saw she actually hadn't been out that long. Maybe ten minutes
Arya took her place at the far end of the table. As Eragon took his place on her right side, she could have sworn she saw a hesitant, almost sad look in his eyes. She didn't want to be sitting all alone as the rest of the party arrived, so she sat on Arya's left side, still a bit angry at Eragon.
It wasn't long till deep shadows filled to doorway. She saw tow figures form out of them. One was a young man. He was garbed in soft blue, silky looking clothes that gleamed in the light. On his tangle weave of brown hair sat a heavy looking gold crown embedded with blue and red sapphires. A regal cape extended down his back with a blue top and red bottom. It fluttered like a butterfly as he walked. His face was decently handsome but his eyes were set in a funny, almost silly way which mad him look like he did goof around sometimes. He had a shadowy beard forming on a cleft chin. His hand extended back to pull someone out of the shadows.
Holding onto his hand was a dainty black hand that she recognized at once from earlier. The owner's skin was charcoal black, almost unnaturally so. She dainty took the last steps down the few stairs and into the light. She was garbed in a deep purple dress with a modest square cut embedded with black and amethyst gems. On top of her high bun, slightly brown tingled hair sat a dainty, light looking tiara of silver incrusted with diamonds that slowly gave way to amethysts. Her sharp, brown eyes seemed upset about something…
The pair took the two spots by Eragon, bowing slightly. Arya mumbled to Aiedail, "That's King Orrin of Surda and Lady Nasuada, ruler of the Varden." They murmured greeting to Arya and Aiedail, before talking to Eragon and amongst themselves. Aiedail felt like a tiny ant, knowing that they were who they were.
But it didn't really last long, as she was quickly distracted by more shadows massing at the door. With as smile on his lips came a familiar face. Roran wore decent clothes, though nothing compared to anyone else in the room. On his arm was a sweet-looking girl with waves of copper. They both looked more cheerful then ever. She guessed the lady had to be Katrina, Roran's fiancée. Arya could tell by the look on her face she didn't need to be introduced to them. The two sat next to her; Katrina right beside her and Roran at her side. Aiedail wondered a bit why he didn't sit next to her till she saw the wary way he looked at Arya. He was…scared of her.
Like a massing shadow, the last person had slipped into the room without anyone really noticing. He was at the final seat before anyone even noticed him He was a fine looking gentleman. He had deep brown hair that came out of his head like leaves on a tree. His sly-looking brown eyes gazed back at every other eye watching him. His black dress seemed odd compared to the rest of the colorful room, but not threatening. He gave a big toothy grin to Arya. An awkward silence plagued them for a moment, till Arya spoke.
"This is Arribane. He was recently elected as the newest member of the Conceal of Elders. He has said several times he'll help us get our points across to those…well, the rest of the conceal. I thought he could join us for dinner." Arribane nodded.
"Nice to know there are so many good people on our side." He murmured in complement. He looked around the table, eyes stopping for a moment longer on the three on the end. He made Aiedail feel uneasy as he shifted to a knowing grin. It looked like he was talking mentally with Arya. She suddenly had a drastic change in expression. She looked… scared… Then he spoke again, "So, I trust your trip to Uru'baen went well?"
"Depends on what you consider well. We didn't die. And I rescued her from a mob of angry people who were chasing her." Eragon answered, gesturing to Aiedail.
"You mean you didn't get the…" Nasuada budded in.
"No, we didn't. We thought we knew where to find it, but we didn't." Eragon answered solemnly.
Aiedail felt an invasive presence in her mind suddenly. She relaxed to hear Arya's voice, but tensed back up again when she heard what she had to say. Aiedail, I want you to stay away from Arribane. I…I'm not sure he can be trusted…
Why? Aiedail asked, innocently enough.
Just do it. I get a bad feeling from him. Her face was smiling but she seemed tense, green eyes glaring hard at Arribane.
Suddenly, a voice beside her nearly made her jump. "So, you're a pretty little thing. What's your name?" Katrina asked sweetly. She smiled.
"I'm Aiedail." Aiedail replied softly.
"So, Aiedail, did you freak out when you first saw Saphira?"
"Not really…"
"Huh, must just be me. I just can't stomach dragons…"
"Oh no, Katrina. You have it wrong. The only reason I wasn't scared was because I saw…" she looked over to see Arya staring at her hard and remembered what she had said. "the red rider's dragon all the time."
"I've seen him too." Katrina shuddered.
"Katrina here was the captured for the longest time and had a run in with him." Roran added.
Aiedail decided to be coy with them. Acting like she hadn't known it was her yet, she said. "Katrina huh? Roran talked about you all the way back." Aiedail asked.
"Did he really talk about me?" Katrina asked, rather flattered. Aiedail nodded. In response, Katrina kissed Roran's nose lightly.
Trying to loose some of the awkwardness at the table, Orrin changed the topic. "So, Arya, how go the…negotiations?"
"Fine, fine. They said they'd do it with no real trouble. They only want what they originally said, and I don't think that will be too bad of a problem." Arya replied vaguely.
"I should hope not or we shall lose a valuable ally." Nasuada finished.
It kind of went that way till Aiedail was stuffed and simply picking off crumbs and bits of conversation. She only really spoke when talked to, which, other then Arya wasn't really often. Through to second course, she found she could really hear them very well. The harder she tried, the worse it got. A dull throbbed started as she began to shake. It was as if it was winter and she was out in the snow. Her hand cramped as she tried to move them. Suddenly, as if she had no control over herself, she fell to the ground, shaking violently. Before she even knew what hit her, everything went black.
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Screaming. Intense pain. Burning. A face engraved in the dark…
Aiedail's green eyes flickered open to greet a stale, misty darkness. At first, she'd thought everything was a dream, and then she saw she could not be in Uru'baen or any other place she'd lived her life in. It was early morning, before the sun even rose. Her body could barely take the nightmares she experienced nearly every night. She wished for them to just stop. They always felt so real, so horrible. She couldn't take it anymore…
She smiled as she remember her room had a balcony. She went out on its shadowed marble to watch as golden light started to show on the shaded blue sky. Soon a faint light whined through her room to the door. She smiled as the sun started its brilliant display. Nothing in the world had ever looked so beautiful then that crisp morning. The scene was tranquil; the clouds drifting by like sweet swan feathers falling on the sun-tinted sea. Echoes of sunrise intnsified as sun showed her face above the tree line. Golds and oranges and pinks and purples streaked the sky like an angel's harp. As the brilliant sphere rose high above the masked stars of night's last touch on the land, she smiled. Soon night had completely left the sky, letting day take her place.
As the morning star became the only hanging in the sky, somehow, she felt today was going to change…
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Something within burned like fire. Not the warm, comforting feeling he got when she was near as it is when you bundle up by the fire place with a cup of piping, sweet coca, stirring around a few marshmallows and laughing with friend, but an intense blaze like an uncontrollable wild fire burning all walls, all obstacles. A sense to break out. To wake, for the first time in the veins, was a wild fire as blood and adrenaline mixed, preparing for what lie ahead. It bade sleep to leave and wakefulness to come forth. It is time. Something within said. And it was all to start with the first step; to break free and come forth to greet the early, new light of the first day.
Gold rays warmed him in a way he never thought it could feel. Freedom was a thin centimeter away from his door and his aching muscles screamed for the joy of it. Sharp little claws kicked. Strong little teeth griped. He pushed, hard and long, till he got what he wanted.
Crack.
Light seeped into the once internal darkness. Beautiful beams of the aurora of daybreak scalded his frail frame. It stunned the sharp little eyes, bouncing off the little pupils for the first time. At first, it hurt. The shock. The vulnerability he would soon feel. Once this was done, once he came forth, he could never go back. Never have the warmth and safety he felt now.
But another sense drove him forth. Of freedom. Of adventure. To see the world. To feel his wonders and woes first hand instead of staying safe and sound in his case. This wanting, this yearning to feel the wind on his face as it whizzed its way around the world, drove it to push again.
Crack.
More light. More freedom. More vulnerability. As fear and excitement grew, he drove himself to do something that scared him at first. He cried out. The noise was so full, so real, it made him stop again and wonder if he should keep going. He was safe here. He was safe. And he was about to cast himself out of that safety, into the light, into judgment of other eyes. But he could hear her, in his head, already long able to feel her, fuzzy as it maybe.
Crack.
A whole section melted off. It displeased him to see a fabric obstructing his way to freedom. Again he peeped, hoping for the assistance of her hand. No one came. Again he called out. No help. No noise. He would have to do this alone.
He butted away another section, it breaking in front of his eyes into a fine powder. Some fell in his eyes and he gave a low peep of distress. Not sure he wanted to try that particular move again; he raised his hind foot and kicked. Finally, there was enough room for him to get out.
As he slipped out, so did the rest of the remaining goop and blood. Exhausted and messy, he took a moment to rest, his every fiber tired. Not use to the gravity of this strange new world, it pressed down on him and he strived to breath his first breath. The air around him was hot and stuffy, but to new lungs it still felt great.
He glared at the fabric around him. It was wet and cold and made him feel cramped. His body quivered. He gave a light growl and slashed out his front claws at it. The fabric would budge. He felt the air around him grew tighter as he took more breaths. He knew he had to get out soon or his time there would be all too short. Distressed, he called out over and over as loud as he could…
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A bizarre noise trumpeted through the room, shaking Aiedail from her day dreams. It was like the distressed peeping of a bird, only shriller and wilder and more scared. A strange, faint fealing over took her. It was like someone was smothering her. She decided it was a spell of dizziness left over from last night and went to her bed to lie down.
Some strange sense kept her away from the bed, though. A pleading sense, like something was wrong. She turned and for some reason, she felt a need to open the pocket Murtagh had been so secretive about. She remembered his words, Only open it when the time is right. It had to be right now. She felt like part of her would die if she didn't open the bag right now. Rushed and a bit shaky, she quickly opened the bag.
The instant she did, she felt something rush her. It smashed into her hand with incredible force. She recoiled her hand to her face, holding it up to the sunlight. A glowing, silver orb burned on her palm, as if by some ghostly power.
It burned like touching a frozen sun. She cringed as incredible energy burned through her veins. A power, yes. But one that threatened to take over her whole being. Soon her eyes could only see a muffled mix of color like a painting left out in the rain; her ears felt as if they were being covered by a pair of hands. Every known sense abandoned her. All but one. She was left with nothing but the pain. And what a pain it was. It was as if her hand had been frozen all thing time, till finally someone threw it into the fire. But somehow it felt…good. As if the pain was just a downside to having all the power in the world.
She tried to scream, and might have, but she didn't know. She was completely oblivious to all but the pain. It was as if the train that hit her kept plowing down the road, her powerless to stop it. No one would ever know what happen to poor Aiedail till her eyes and mind were glued shut in death's final, un-undoable embrace.
Finally, it began to ease. Slowly her vision returned as it dulled to a light ache. Her hearing grew keener. Her mind clearer. She was able to catch her palm glowing faintly as the ache subsided. Then it was all over.
She stayed there, stunned, for a moment. Two green eyes stared right back out of the shadows at her and she felt someone touch her mind. She recoiled at first. It was a feeling of openness which scared her. But then she became kind of curious about it. It was much like Saphira's mind. But the thing was it wasn't. As it continued to dab her mind, she found it felt…good. As if she hadn't been whole till then.
"Who…who are you? Show yourself." She said shakily. She heard a light scraping across the floor as the green eyes move out of the shadows and into the light. A long snout was the first to great her eyes other then its eyes. Slowly the outline around the eyes grew till a snaky neck was visible. Soft-looking green scales interlocked together like a dense canopy of leaves; fresh and vivid from spring. With each step the neck grew till she saw hefty looking, for its age, shoulders. Each segment of its neck till then had been adorned by short white spikes. But there was a gap where the stringy muscles of its brand new shoulders met its neck and the rest of its body. Two, lithe legs were now visible as well which both ended in butter soft talons. It kept on. Two gawky wings came into the light; much too big and obviously heavy for the hatchling. Both glowed in the morning light and she could see red blood pulsing through its veins as visible as they are in a fresh bud, newly turned into a leaf. Both wings were crinkled up like a freshly hatched butterfly's are. Past the wings were two more legs, more stout and powerful then the front but probably less maneuverable. It kept moving. Extending out of its body was a long tail, each scale on it shining as they came into the light. All it all, the entire thing was slightly damp; obviously freshly born. But she realized it wasn't just anything. It was…
A dragon.
Emerald scales cast shadows onto the walls as it came up beside her, looking up into her eyes expectantly. She couldn't help but quiver as it cooed lightly to her, oversized wings flailing awkwardly in the air. Its lengthily neck bobbed up and down, lightly humming as though it knew she was afraid and was trying to calm her with its dragonish lullaby. Dizzied, it fell over suddenly, gravity still new to its legs. She gave a light, tense laugh and the little dragonling looked up at her with its lime tinged eyes.
Its neck reached out and she almost jumped back to keep away from another icy blast, but was surprised to find that as it nuzzled her leg all she felt was nothing more than a pleasant tingling from her palm.
The young dragon yawned and curled up to go to sleep by her leg. She hesitantly reached down and pet its scaly hide. It began to purr and peeped one eye open for a second before comfortably shutting them. It had had a long day and breakfast hadn't even come yet…
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Whew! Pat yourselves on the back if you finished! That was 7,111 words right there that was! I hope you liked the hatching sequence. I tried unbelievably hard to make it my own. Different from C.P.'s or another source of inspiration I've been using a lot called The Pit Dragon Trilogy. I know this whole thing was really long, but there is a reason for that. I knew I had to introduce him sometime. And I also do have a name for him already. Just wait till next chapter when you hear it! I can't wait till then! All I hope is that I don't intimidate my readers by doing this like this… till next update…
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