A shade or two darker

Nasuada leaned back, after a particular long and tiring meeting with the Arya, Orik, Nar Garzhvog and Orrin, they still had many things to overcome in order to start the inaugural Quadrennial games, and all the associated tournaments. They had decided, after much debating and trying to appease Orrin, although to his credit he remained relatively open-minded, the order of rotation for the games.

First, it would be in Farthen Dur. Thankfully, the dwarves were the most prepared to host the games, having already hosted many combat duels when they were training the Varden. It was a good thing, she sighed, that Saphira had repaired the Isadir Mithrim, or else, the spectacle that was sure to be, would have been lessened, and dampened the atmosphere of one of the hallmark agreements after the fall of the usurper.

"What a pity," she said to herself, out loud, "that Eragon won't be there to witness his handiwork."

Four years, after the first games, the event would then be hosted just outside Aberon, she was told, in a stadium yet to be constructed, or even financed. She would have to fund some of that she was sure, and so would some of the Dwarves, which was sure to cause chaos for Orik in the clan meets. This, of course, was a natural outcome of the dwarves being notoriously fickle on the difference between money well spent, and wasted. Not to mention their disparities, or friendly disagreements which Orik coined them, on how interventionist they should be in the affairs of Alagaesia.

The last games in the rotation would be co-hosted by the Urgals and the Elves near Ceunon. The elves would not allow anyone in their forest as of yet, except for the most important of people under the most dire of emergencies, and the Urgals were hardly in the position to be organising an event. Both as a result of their perpetual harassment by the fallen empire and the now disbanded Varden.

Between the games, each of the races would hold separate tournaments to determine their best contestants. These would be held yearly, and the best, however many, competitors, averaged out over the three years, would be then selected to go and compete in the Games. Not all of the games would revolve around strength, with competitions for speed, intelligence, wit and last, but not least, magical ability. She was sure that the Elves were going to win most of them, but the Dwarves stood a chance in the Intelligence category, as do the humans. The Urgals, especially the Kull, might be able to succeed in the Strength and Speed, but apart from that she wasn't particularly confident.

It had been especially difficult for Queen Arya and the elves in general, to stay in contact with the rest of Alagaesia, as their wards around their Forrest stopped items entering through magical means. This, combined with the fact that they were in the process of strengthening their magical borders, meant that it was virtually impossible to maintain reliable methods of communication.

According to the report she had just picked up, many of the elves were taking part in a mass effort to sing, whatever that meant, a new elf into the Forrest, a Guardian of some sort. Apparently, they had done this before with some elf called Gilderien the wise, who watched over Ellesmera since the days of Du Fyrn Skulblaka. This elf must be one of the oldest, living beings, she thought, throughout the whole of Alagaesia, save that of the Eldunari.

Setting the report aside she cast her thoughts on the month ahead. Immediately she became aware of the prospect of having to go tell the Northern cities that they could no longer cut down trees in Du Weldenvarden, something she was not looking forward. As she brooded over these miserable tidings, she wished things could have been a little more interesting and exciting lately; she had received next to no news from Eragon, and hardly any from Arya, whom she considered the most likely people to bring her interesting news.

Orik was busy dealing with clans in an attempt to expand their kingdom's influence and Arya was still trying to convince the many elf lords that they needed to be more open to the other races, thus it was unlikely that they needed to inform her of anything. She was broken out of her reverie by a page, who had been stationed to the scrying room.

He called out, his deep voice echoing through the long passageway and into her room, "Nasuada, Your majesty, Eragon is scrying us."

Nasuada quickly combed her hair and made herself presentable; she wanted to make sure that she conveyed a good impression to Eragon. So that he did not worry himself unduly about her troubles, which knowing him, seemed more than likely. She did not like that he was going away, but the longer she thought about it the more it seemed necessary.

"Where would they settle for a start?" she said, unintentionally out loud.

The Beor Mountains would be perfect except for the fact that the dwarven clans were in a state of uproar about being not consulted with when Eragon reworked the dragon-rider pact. The Spine was near to too many races for the dragons to be safe, and the hardarac desert would hardly be suitable for raising small dragons. What, with their enormous appetites, she would not be surprised if in the first week of raising dragons they ran out of food.

As she reached the scrying room she saw her earlier worries had been dispelled, Eragon had already settled down and started building but then she realised that this was not right, he would have waited until much further away from Alagaesia before he started. Her train of thought was interrupted by the very man who was scrying her.

"My majesty," Eragon started off brushly. "I take it that you are still alive and well, it is good to see you again, long time no see."

She just brushed him off, replying, "We are still friends are we not. Why must we talk so formally? Tell me, what has happened?"

As she waited for him to formulate his answer, she cast her eyes upon the rest of the building, a few desks were arranged against the wall, an empty library and strangely enough, another scrying mirror. Wondering what this could mean, she was just about to ask him about it, until her train of thought was knocked off the tracks for the second time as Eragon enlightened her on his miniature project.

"Capable of being self-sufficient, this settlement, which is the term I have coined for this, aah... thing, will be able to cater to at least one dragon, and their rider, if not two."

He then, with some words of power, showed her what it was like in the rest of the complex, projecting his memories upon something which she could not see by means of the scrying mirror. As time wore on, and they exchanged pleasant chit-chat, she began to yawn. At first she was able to stifle them so Eragon was unable to notice them, but eventually he noticed her attempts and bid her goodnight. Yawning constantly, she walked to her personal chambers, plunked down on her wonderfully soft bed and fell asleep, all but forgetting about the mediocre events that happened before Eragon contacted her.

(PoV change)

Cursing his stupidity, Orik got up as the sun rose and prepared for another long meeting with the clans. He should have prepared a notice about the dragon rider order including the dwarves, but in his haste to catch Eragon, one last time before he left, he had forgotten about it until it was too late. By which time the clans were in full uproar, and even he had to admit, it was perfectly acceptable for them to be this furious. Although it certainly didn't lighten up his day, having to deal with 11 annoyed dwarves, if not more.

He had neglected his rightful duty and now he was paying the price. As he walked to the chambers, where the days meetings were being held, he suddenly noticed that his guard had been doubled, and there were many more magicians now. Turning to his second-in-command, General Isadir, whom had been named after the Star Sapphire that graced Farthen Dur with its presence, he was about to ask the meaning of this but before he could he was bundled off into a nearby hallway. Perpendicular from where he wanted to go.

His frantic efforts to escape were stopped, as meagre as they were, as another dwarf, in addition to the two ones that were already holding him, joined them in restraing him. As they reached an open space, one of the dwarves pulled on a lever behind a stone and behind them the boom of a falling stone wall could be heard.

It was then that the 20 or so dwarves that had escorted him to this place finally started to relax. As one of their numbers produced a light and lit one of the lanterns, he quickly looked around for escape routes, his eyes darting around the room. It then hit him that the rest of the clan leaders were here as well and many of them looked grave faced.

Ignoring this latest surprise, he rounded on the general and employed his favourite curse

"Barzul. You have much to answer for, why have you done this unnecessary act, you could have told me first. "

Yet to this, the general to his credit, just indicated for him to sit down and then said no more.

"As I was saying before King Orik so impolitely interrupted us" said Nado, the words dripping out of his mouth like molten lead, "We have received bad news. I say this in utter serious, in no order of importance or danger, report of a shade of dwarven appearance, a raz'ac and another terrible being. No less, and quite possibly, more. The last threat of which I spoke of, we have been unable to identify or name, for that matter. All the reports came from trustworthy sources and they have consented for their minds to be examined. As of yet, our magicians have yet to find anything out of order, but we must pray that they do, for otherwise we have a very dangerous situation on hand."

Utter silence reigned after that. At first, he was about to protest at Nado's vehemence towards him, but as the words sank in, he realised what they were facing. He was glad that he was wise enough to have held his tongue, for this was no ordinary meeting in which they could play parlay with each other, it was rather very serious. Had he protested it would have meant that he would have lost his dignity at the hands of his arch-enemy, a prospect that he did not find enjoyable contemplating, and Nado probably relished.

As Orik sank back into his seat at the full implications of this, the other clan leaders who had already received this news, had moved on and were discussing what to do. As the many hours passed by, alerts were issued to the other races and the other dwarven cities as the news seemed more and more likely to be true.

It was not until a few hours past midday that they received news of the mental inspection results. The messenger, a young dwarf by the name of Murdak, announced to a nervous audience the thing they had all been waiting for.

"The magicians found something out of order in their minds," he announced,pausing as they released a sigh of relief "but only that the dwarf failed to mention, or even notice the second raz'ac in the background when he saw the first one."

As a collective groan went up from the dwarves arrayed around the table, he quickly took his leave, exiting out the same way he came in. After he left, the door shut, with a resounding boom, quickly cloaking his fading footsteps.

At least, on reflection after the meeting had been ended, they had had enough sense to construct stone doors to block off all avenues of entrances and exits in the dwarven cities after the war with Galbatorix had finished. This had been done as a precautionary measure, in order to protect against another case like the Urgal invasion.

As they had contacted the various realms and races of Alagaesia, Orik could not help but shamefully think that the Dwarves, one of the oldest races in Alagaesia, had created another monster on the eve that another was defeated. Such was the strength of this failure that he had felt that it was necessary for him to convey the messages himself; risking the slight chance of danger to truly convey his regret for the circumstances, and assuring them that all was being done to apprehend the danger.

The shade had apparently been seen just outside of Farthen Dur, although he somewhat doubted this claim, as summoning spirits, which was essential to the formation of a shade, or so his magicians said, was not a common dwarven practice. The case was not helped, by the fact that, more often than not, it was frowned upon to teach someone something that could potentially have enormous implications, beyond their ability to control.

The raz'ac had been seen outside Orthiad, or Ithro Zhada as the king had called it, although this was less of a threat, and the unnamed shadow had been apparently been seen near the bear tooth river ,and again Orik doubted this claim. There was not enough information to decide if it was a threat, and he could not help but think that it was probably some Deep Dweller nutcase who finally decided to see the outside, and upon seeing it, panicked when he saw something that moved and was large.

As Orik informed the Urgals of what had happened, he could also not help but think that if all these monsters had been near the Urgals homeland, the Urgals would have stood no chance. The only ones at the moment who had the chance of being able to defeat a shade were the elves and from what he had seen of elves, and heard tell of shades, even they would even be hard pressed to kill one.

(PoV change)

Arya glanced around at the elven lords seated in a rough circle in the clearing; she had just finished convincing them of numerous measures designed to lend the other races a helping hand. One of the measures being the necessity to send an envoy of elves to clean up the remnants of damage that Galbatorix had done to Illirea. Another one being the need to send elves to help set up Nasuada's new magical authority.

This, they had decided, meaning her, Orik, Orrin and Nasuada, would now span all the races and encompass every magician, except the elves. The Urgals they had not been able to contact, so Nasuada was standing in steed for their interests. Nar Garzhvog having contacted her before, to convey what they would like to see done. Although it was probably unfair of him to think that they would discount his interests in an attempt to become better off. They all knew it would save time, and therefore effort and money, if they thought of everyone, not just their narrow-minded selves.

It had taken many hours of debating to bring everyone round to the same viewpoint, and even then she could feel that many of the elves were still only half-convinced. It was like trying to deal with a pack of wolves, every time she tried to do something or get out of her metaphorical tree, where she was safe, they threatened to rip her apart. She just wished she had somebody to talk to. Originally it had been Brom, then as they went their separate ways she found solace with Faolin, his death had wounded her to her core, after that it had been Ajihad and then Eragon and Saphira.

Her feelings for Eragon were too complicated to be summed up in a simple man's terms. At first she had been thankful that he had saved her, but gradually through his foolishness, she had realised that he was thinking of her in a romantic way, something she was uncomfortable with, to say the least. Not in the least due to Faolin's death only a few months before.

Because of this she had shunned him, yet he still persisted in his futile attempts at romance. Finally, when he had made a fairth of her that portrayed her as much as his ideal imagination as actually herself, she had rejected him outright, perhaps a little too harshly. Yet to his credit, where other men would have given up, he still persisted, although perhaps in a less direct way.

Determination, she mused, was one of his main redeeming qualities, once he was started on a course he would not stop, except of his own volition or Saphira's intervention. As she gotten to know him more after the battle of the burning plains, she had started to realise that he was a very good person, a much better person than many of the elves were. Although he was a lot more prone to stupidity than most people, and some would suggest dim-wittedness, which might be a stretch, she thought.

As they had made their way to Ura'baen, they had gradually moved closer together to the point where she could call him a friend, not her best one, but a friend nonetheless. Then in a feat of sheer audacity, they had killed the most powerful beings in Alagaesia. Instead of many years of rejoicing as it should have been, he had cut short his celebrations to what he thought was truly necessary to do, leave Alagaesia, possibly forever, and raise the dragons in relative peace. As much as that is possible, she thought wryly.

Shortly after he had told her of this, he had made a fairth that truly encompassed her, including her faults as well as her perfection, seeing this she knew she had finally found someone again who understood her. Knowing that this was a life-changing moment she had told him her true name, and he had told her his.

After Eragon had left she was starting to realise how big a part of her life he was. In a similar way to how he was essential to Glaedr's recovery, he was a focal point for her emotions. When he was around she had something other to do than grieve, even it was just correcting his foolish mistakes and righting the wrongs that so often occurred. He even gave insights into her own thoughts, and questioned her morals in a way that even she had to think if it was right.

For too long she had put her people before her emotions, and it was starting to show. She had only realised after he had gone that she had non-romantic feelings, or its elven equivalent, for him. The only reason she had continued to function after so many losses was the fact that she had been bonded to Firnen and now was her replacement for Eragon.

For her, she thought, her life had been a series of people being replaced, either through death or duty, the one word that she was starting to dislike. Shaking off her unpleasant thoughts, she returned to the present to find the elven meeting in much the same state as before, only now there was a huge green dragon was perched on top of one of the trees.

Clapping her hands, she signalled that the meeting would be continued another time and quickly scaled the tree that her bonded partner was perched on. As she climbed into Firnen's saddle, she opened her mind up to his and they rejoiced in the intimate feeling of connectedness, feeling as one as they withheld nothing from each other. Her thoughts becoming his, and his become hers.

As Firnen launched them into the sky, sending a hail of small twigs and leaves down onto the clearing she rejoiced in the feeling of openness, that one feels when they are in the sky. As Firnen climbed in altitude and made his way to the Crags of Tel'naeir, she slowly took in Ellesmera upon high. It was beautiful, although much of it could not be seen due to the trees blocking the view.

Closing her eyes, she entered her partners mind and viewed the world the way he viewed it. The greens were much more prominent than the reds and the blues, although this was probably due to the fact that he was a green dragon. His vision was a lot sharper than hers but had a narrower focus, the more to pick out prey. Still, she would much prefer his vision to hers, although to her it would probably be a lot less practical. .

As they glided down, a perfect image of harmony, she realised now that she was the most powerful two-legged one, as Firnen would call them, in Alagaesia. Her strength surpassed that of many beings. The only people who could match her blow for blow would be other elves, the most ferocious of Kull, a few dwarves and maybe a few werecats. Her magical knowledge was unrivalled except for Angela and Tenga, although she did not know the extent of his powers it would be probably be safe to say that he was unrivalled in terms of skill, being the teacher of Angela. Plus the fact that she was also queen of the elves, the strongest race, if she did say so herself, and had a dragon to back her up, left little to the imagination of who was the powerhouse now that Eragon and Saphira had left.

After she had fallen asleep and entered into dream space, her dreams began to shift erratically, jumping from one to the next. None of them important, that was until they, for Firnen and her often shared dream space, settled on one that looked so lifelike that her subconscious had to remind her about what was real.

She rode Firnen through the skies of Du Weldenvarden; below her a host of elves, between 50 and 100 strong, marched along a small track that wandered between the trees below. As they reached the edge of the forest, they glided down, and landed in a nearby clearing. In front of them was the edge of the elves territory, as well as a shade and numerous, ferocious looking, big, black dogs. The shade looked exactly like Varaug and Durza, but instead of a sword he held a spiked mace made out of the same material that Niernen had been made out. As the shade advanced the whole forest suddenly shook with something akin to anger, and above it a green light appeared which soon engulfed everything.

A/N Dear Readers,

I hope you are having a good day. I know this chapter jumps around a lot in terms of POV but I really saw no way to get the basic underlying plot/problem across.

This chapter has been revised as of 10/12/13 … but will probably be uploaded later, as I am having internet troubles at the moment.

The shade in Arya's dream will be very powerful. There are two different shades by the way, just to add some extra juice to the story, however all is not as it seems. I am not sure when the eggs will hatch for the Urgals or dwarves, but probably after things have been sorted out. As to the timing of it, Nasuada's experience is a few days before Orik, and Arya's is around the same time as Orik's.

If you have any queries feel free to put them in the reviews or PM. Anyway, thanks for reading, reviewing (hopefully) and taking time out of your busy lives to read my story.

Yours sincerely,

WiseBeyondYears