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Thank you for reading.

Regards,

Karldin.

CHAPTER 20

A large flash of indigo light flashed in the silent and pristine forests near Ellesmera, sending deer skittering away and disturbing the merry chirping of the birds. Eragon lowered his hand as he beheld the way towards the tree city of Ellesmera barred by a figure in pure white robes, and bowed slightly to the ancient guardian Gilderien. Laetri too inclined her head slightly, and Gilderien returned the gesture with a small smile.

"Eragon Bromsson", said Gilderien. "News of your exploits in the Illirean Kingdom have reached the Alfakyn. You do great honour to your high station. As do you, my dear Laetri. But Haindar is not enthusiastic about how you throw yourself into danger without caring about the consequences. Facing a Shade as if he were nothing but an enthusiastic elf?", here his look became stern. "I imagine there will be words."

"There have already been words, Gilderien-elda", sighed Laetri, glancing at Eragon whose face betrayed nothing. He had struggled to keep harsh words from souring their bond, he knew all too well how powerful words were when it came to Elves. Laetri herself had told him several tales of how Elven grudges were born for what seemed like several ages. She was far too precious to him to alienate with heated words, so he kept quiet and polite.

Oh, Eragon, sighed Saphira exasperatedly. I think she understands what you wish to say to her. The two of you are bound as close as you and me are, after all. Even if you do not use that connection often. Sahloknir tells me she is greatly saddened by your grief and fear. You must talk to her.

I have nothing to say to her, Saphira. I refuse to direct her life as I wish it to be for my sake. I will not dictate her actions just because it might hurt me. I am not a dictator, replied Eragon as Laetri and Gilderien spoke quietly for a few moments. He heard Sahloknir and Saphira snort in amusement, and this time the Golden Dragon spoke to him.

Ebrithil. You have often admonished the younglings to think maturely. Now it is my turn, said Sahloknir. You are acting like a child by closing off your mind and heart to my Rider. No one fears Laetri being taken away from you more than Laetri herself. You became a part of each other's soul after the events with the Spirits. Come now, Ebrithil, said Sahloknir slyly. Saphira felt the texture of his emotions and began to listen very closely, even as Sahloknir's thoughts took on a decidedly smug feel. You do remember our arrangement, don't you? You know of what I help you hide from Laetri when you sleep. After all those decades of being privy to your dreams, even I wanted to blush when I saw my Rider and I am a dragon.

Saphira was laughing heartily at Sahloknir's quip, even Eragon felt himself smile at her amusement and felt a faint sense of indignation at Sahloknir's blackmail. I cannot help it, he said softly, looking at Laetri's perfect form. She was wearing a simple white dress with her hair tumbling down to her waist in shiny waves of silver. Even if they were not such close confidants, he would react strongly. She was so beautiful that Elves had written entire poems about her, that Glenwing had pursued her for eighty years and not despaired at the lack of an answer. Death alone had stopped his courting.

His companions had once confessed to him that despite their own extraordinary beauty, several Elven maidens felt inadequate when compared to Laetri. His heart clenched painfully at the thought of never seeing her again, never hear her soothing words, never having her wisdom and strength to draw upon. What put raging fear in his heart was the utter reality of its possibility. Stop thinking such gloomy thoughts, Eragon, admonished Saphira sternly. I am sure you have learned from before. We won't let her get out of our sight again, will we?

Certainly not, agreed Eragon. The fear was still there in his heart of course, the fear of seeing her lying cold and dead upon the ground. He had again stopped sleeping for fear of seeing those horrifying images. Memories of their conversation after he had healed her rushed to him, sparking in him feelings of confusion and elation.

She was lying on a simple white bed, breathing deeply and erratically as Eragon finished healing her. It was the healing room in Utgard filled with all the implements of that art. Eragon sank heavily on to the chair as the rise and fall of her chest evened, and the colour returned to her skin.

He waited with a blank expression and churning emotions as her eyes opened, finding his own almost naturally. He said nothing as her eyes narrowed at him and he felt her mind trying to meld with his. After all these years their bond had become one so deep that they could feel what the other felt. Her pain was his, and his was hers.

"I am sorry", said Laetri sadly and a tear was shed from her brilliant eyes. Eragon's sorrow worsened even more as he saw that tear, but he could not move. He was still too angry with her for losing to that stripling Shade, for almost getting herself killed.

"What for?", he replied in a thick voice. "It is all fine. You are here, and you did not…did not die", he choked out the word, "at the hands of that Shade. I healed you. You must recuperate and I must-", he made to leave the room but Laetri caught his hand gently with hers.

"Have I caused you that much pain by my mistake, Eragon-elda, that you would voluntarily close your mind to mine?", she asked quietly, her blue eyes shining with unshed tears. "I did not think the Shade was skilled enough to do that to me. I was so surprised when he saw through my wards that I could not react in time-"

"Three of your ribs were broken", cut in Eragon. "There was a poisonous bruise near your navel where the Shade's magic hit you. Your heart was slightly pierced by a shard of those broken ribs", he finished in a despairing voice, the light in his eyes dimmed considerably. "I have accepted that you might be injured when fighting a superior foe, but an inferior one like that Shade? You are far too skilled to fall to him, Laetri svit-kona! I know your skill, you taught me after all."

"I have not fought a battle for too long, Eragon", she said taking both his hands in hers. "Teaching younglings and apprentices for so long have dulled my instincts. Please open your mind to me, I cannot see you hurting like this and remain idle. I know the sacrifice is tormenting you once more. Please…", she whispered.

"That is not what is tormenting me, at least not entirely", he replied tonelessly, seating himself beside her on the bed. Her reasons were fine, but the heart saw what it wanted to see. And all he saw was the impermanence of even their bond…it terrified him like nothing else did.

"I killed that Urgal Rider and his Dragon today. Slaughtered them mercilessly", he intoned listlessly but the tears were already falling down his face. Laetri's hand had gone tight on his own, and she carefully propped herself up and embraced him without hesitation. His tears dripped on her shoulder and he held her as if she were a lifeline.

"That Shade deserved what I gave him", he continued, his rage making magic shimmer in the room. "I ground his bones to dust, and threw him to eternal torment with your binding spell. But I hurled that misguided young Rider and his Dragon into the walls of Therinsford in my anger, killing them instantly. I still dream about how the walls were splattered with their gore."

Her embrace tightened as she stroked his face soothingly, her eyes never leaving his as he continued his tale.

"The Urgal army I did not spare, either. I wiped them all from the earth with the Spirit-light. Killed them all in a single instant", he finished as he looked deep into her eyes with an expression that gained an iron certainty. "It scares me that I would do it all again if you were in danger. I learnt something as well."

"I learnt that if you were threatened, I would not care for morals, rules or etiquette. I would not care for innocents or the guilty in my actions to keep you safe, despite the high ideals I have set forth for my Riders. It scares me that I would burn the world to ashes if that was what was needed to keep you safe", he finished softly, "You are one sacrifice I cannot make for anything, not even my Riders. And I hate myself for failing my own ideals."

Ever since he had made that admission, she had not spoken to him about opening his mind. Instead he had seen her staring at him occasionally, as if he were the most wonderful puzzle posed by the universe for her to unravel. He had seen utter sadness as he continued to isolate his mind from her but it faded away every time when she looked at him as if for the very first time. He knew that their bond had been altered forever, that something had changed for both of them when he had confessed his fears to her in Utgard.

Pay attention, Eragon. Gilderien is talking to you, came Umaroth's amused voice. The Eldunari were always with him, though they gave him his privacy and he gave them theirs. They were also a very great solace and source of wisdom, timeless entities that saw the world without bias or obstruction. He dispelled his thoughts as he looked at Gilderien apologetically.

"I am sorry, Gilderien-elda. My thoughts are troubling me far too much. It will not happen again", he said hastily. Gilderien nodded once as Laetri came back to stand by his side, gently taking his hand and threading her fingers through his. Something has changed between her and me. Sahloknir, what is happening here? She looks at me as if…

….as if you are more important to her than the very air she breathes. Exactly how you have been looking at her after you healed her. You would know yourself what she is thinking if you opened your mind to hers again, Ebrithil, chided Sahloknir.

I need to order my thoughts once more. My mind is filled with nightmares and fears I do not want her to see, he replied firmly, turning his attention back to Gilderien. The elf was smiling slightly at him and nodded approvingly as if he could understand his thoughts. Then his face took on a pensive expression, looking only at him.

"Laetri has told me of your situation, Eragon Shur'tugal. I understand that you want your niece to enter Du Weldenvarden. It is an exceptionally dangerous risk you will be taking if I allow this. My brethren would not spare her; She has done a grievous crime to our race", he said sadly. "You have already foreseen the consequences I think, or you would not be making such a request. But there are other possible consequences: I know you will not remain idle and let your niece die at the hands of my kinsmen, and I myself cannot sit idle and let them die at yours. You know this may end in a confrontation between you and me", said Gilderien in a heavy voice.

"It cannot be helped, Gilderien-elda", replied Eragon just as gravely. "It is a risk to be taken. I love my niece and have seen into her mind…she is my brother's child who was led astray due to the failures of others. If I can help her, I will do it. Healing can begin only with a trust extended, and your people have always shown a legendary wisdom in that regard. I request passage for my niece Ismira, humbly.", said Eragon, bowing to Gilderien who laid a firm hand upon his shoulder and raised him back up.

"You are the greatest of the Riders", he said firmly looking him in the eye. "Do not bow to anyone, Eragon Shur'tugal. You have earned a place beyond the dominion of Kings", he admonished. "Very well. Against my better judgement I will let a known offender against my kin enter our precious city, because you vouch for her. Let that be my gesture of trust", he said. Eragon nodded respectfully and began to raise his hand when Gilderien added a last word, fading into the light.

"But I will not let her disrupt the peace in any manner. If there is the slightest mistake on either of our parts, the White Flame of Vandil will meet Brisingr in battle. I request you to see to it that it does not happen at any cost", said Gilderien as he disappeared completely. He looked at Laetri who nodded uncertainly, and they both bent magic to their will.

With another great flash of light, three Dragons appeared, Saphira towering above all of them with glorious majesty. Ismira was staring around with pure wonder, and did not stop even as she jumped down to stand beside her Uncle. Eragon smiled at her, as he gestured with his free hand to the otherworldly woods.

"Welcome to Ellesmera, my dear niece."

…

Eragon has captured Ismira and has taken her to Ellesmera to hold counsel with the elves. Murtagh, she and Belegroch are in danger. There is no time for Elva and Fanuil to recover from their journey, said Thorn as he stood outside a huge window in Castle Shathur, watching the warding storm rage in the horizon. Murtagh shook his head, not troubled in the slightest.

Thorn, I know my brother. He will see to it that they won't come to harm, you can trust me on that. Or have you forgotten how he and Saphira were? It is just impossible for them to see past their perception of their loved ones to the horrible truths of their actions. Take us, for instance. He kept trying to save me despite the atrocities I had committed, and he will do the same for Ismira…he is too naïve for his own good in these matters, and will always remain so. Have you forgotten that?

I have not, grumbled Thorn from the Dragon keep far beneath the Castle. But I do not know what he is up to, taking Ismira there. What would be the point? The Elves are going to simply kill her. Even their capacity for forgiveness does not extend so high.

"Eragon is extremely clever", announced Nasuada as she walked in to their chamber with Elva at her side. "He plans to accomplish several things at once, Murtagh. It is a plan worthy of Ajihad himself. Tell him, Elva.", she said admiringly. Murtagh looked at her curiously, tilting his head in question. Nasuada did not give out such praise lightly, even to Eragon. Ajihad was the most important person in her life after himself, of that he had no doubt.

"How so?", he asked.

"He has not made any secret of the fact that he has captured Ismira", Elva said intently. "Think, Murtagh. Ordinarily such a matter would be closed and sealed within the Riders, but this time Eragon is not letting it be so. He has even sent letters everywhere, even to my husband and all the races that he has captured Ismira, that he is taking her to Ellesmera. Does that not seem a trifle foolish?", she asked. Nasuada had seated herself in a chair next to Murtagh's and was pouring herself a drink of water.

"So?", asked Murtagh. "My brother has not been the greatest thinker, really. You do remember when he gave Urgals the power to be Riders, don't you? Or the time he left Saphira to rescue the slime Sloan. That was not really the epitome of foresight. The Dragons and Urgals are far too alike in their bloodlust for them to help each other. A bond with Elves on the other hand might have helped…", he trailed off, stopped by Elva's clear laughter.

"I just cannot help but see you as a little girl when you speak in that mature voice", he said with confusion in his eyes. Elva had matured into a very lovely woman, but he could not reconcile the image of the cynical child she had been with the cynically protective mother she had become. Shaking his head at her laughter he too sipped a glass of water, waiting for her mirth to subside.

"Murtagh, Murtagh…you still see Eragon as some peasant boy, do you not? Arya used to do the same until very recently, you know. She had to learn in the hard way how different Eragon is. He has become stronger and wiser than anyone", she said. Then she looked directly into his eyes, warning him already. "He is stronger than you. Do not ask me how", she said, now looking at Nasuada's unrestrained curiosity. "I know some things, but do not ask me. It is his story to tell if he will."

Shining brow, I can agree with that. But tell us why Ismira's capture is a clever ploy on Eragon's part.

"It is simple, but yet cunningly elegant. When the rulers hear of this news their focus will be on what happens at Ellesmera. He most probably plans to absolve Ismira in front of that audience as well…he would never have taken her there if he were not sure of at least part of her blamelessness. Since all the monarchs of Alagaesia will take note or send representatives, he will use the situation to direct their attention towards the enemy", said Elva. Murtagh's face showed his shock at Eragon's move… he did not remember his brother being so clever.

Perhaps she is right, Murtagh. We must start thinking of Eragon as an equal at the very least.

It seems so, Thorn, he replied as new thoughts flashed through his mind. "It is also an open challenge to the Shadow and the twelve", he said amazed. Nasuada shook her head, laying a hand on his and looking gravely at him.

"Not only that, Murtagh. He is inviting you to come to Ellesmera as well. If he is as skilled as Elva says, we can assume he knows of the closeness you and Ismira share", stated Nasuada. "This will be a gathering of the free races like Alagaesia has not seen since the war. That too in Ellesmera…Murtagh, we must go. Palencar has asked it of us. It is time to reveal ourselves to the world again."

Elva turned to face her immediately, her eyes filming over with tears. "You did not tell me you spoke to him. How is he, Nasuada?", she asked in a small voice. Nasuada looked sad as she looked at her daughter in-law.

"He has become old and tired, my dear. He has nothing to love except his kingdom…if only you assented to me telling him about your presence with us", she nodded as Elva shook her head slightly. "I do not understand, but I will respect your wishes. Murtagh and I are very pained by what has happened to our boy, Elva. Seeing my Grandson has brought me great pleasure and happiness, but I cannot see my son waste away for much longer. It makes me want to shed tears when I see him waiting for death in a young body", she whispered.

"Do you blame me?", asked Elva in a vulnerable tone.

"No", said Murtagh strongly, standing up with Nasuada. "No, Elva. Nasuada was in much the same quandary as you are now when Palencar was born. She could have joined me…but a large part of her decision to stay was to raise Palencar in a stable home. We understand", he reiterated firmly. Elva nodded and joined them as they walked out of the chamber.

"Is Fanuil recovered?", asked Murtagh. He knew the boy would be strong. He could sense power in his grandson, power and strength rarer than ever. What he could not believe was how innocent Elva had kept him, how protective she was of that innocence. When he had offered to teach Fanuil the sword, he had found himself at the point of Elva's. She had strictly forbidden him from teaching her son anything violent…but Murtagh could not help but think of it as potential wasted.

"He is recovered", answered Nasuada with a nostalgic look. She suddenly put an arm around Elva's shoulders, her face seeming even more distant and sad. "You would not believe how much he is like Palencar. So clever, and so perceptive…have you noticed how his eyes seem to look right through you?", she asked Elva curiously. Elva nodded, smiling ruefully.

"I thought I was bad regarding that, but Fanuil puts even me to shame. He does not even know he is doing it", she said with amusement as they climbed up the spiralling stairs to reach her chambers where Fanuil was resting. Murtagh pushed open the chamber door, and they froze as they saw the bed ruptured and feathers floating everywhere. Their eyes were immediately drawn to a particular heap of feathers that seemed to be moving.

"Ma?", asked the small feather heap guiltily. Murtagh grinned and the two women burst into peals of laughter as they looked at the feathery Fanuil, whose eyes showed shame and guilt in abundance. Murtagh snapped his fingers and every loose feather was blown away and collected into a ball, which was stuffed back evenly into the bed and sealed.

"How did it work for you?", demanded Fanuil of Murtagh. Elva shook her head, knowing of her son's odd interludes with magic. It came naturally to him, like it did to an Elven child. But it was very raw, not at all refined. He had little control.

"Grandfather, how did it work for you?", he asked again peremptorily, and Murtagh looked very surprised.

"You did something similar?", he asked softly. Fanuil nodded eagerly. "Yes. I was just playing with Ma's sword there", he pointed at the beautiful sword lying near the bed. Elva's face tightened with anger and worry, and she seemed ready to berate her son but Murtagh raised his hand to allow Fanuil to continue.

"I am sorry, Ma. I really am. I really wanted to know what it felt like when you used a sword", he apologized apprehensively to Elva who was silent. "I hit that pillow accidentally and it burst. Do you see…a-a river of light when you use it?", he asked Murtagh tentatively.

"Like seeing the sun itself? Its heat rushing through your body, its light brightening the world, its fire giving you strength?", asked Murtagh calmly. Fanuil nodded excitedly, his violet eyes shining with his joy. Murtagh smiled and nodded in confirmation and Elva's apprehension melted at her son's happiness. Nasuada and Murtagh exchanged glances with each other, and then looked at Elva.

The boy will be a powerful magician, Murtagh.

"Ready yourselves. It is beyond time that I meet with Eragon and Arya again. If the free races are going to unite under the banner of the Riders, then that is where we must be. Let us begin our preparations to depart for Ellesmera", said Murtagh as he exited the room with Nasuada, throwing a wink at the exultant Fanuil.

…

"Laetri, keep on guard. I have not seen the Elven nation roused like this since the war against Galbatorix", whispered Eragon, striding alongside Laetri through the city of Ellesmera with the three Dragons behind them. Ismira was walking proudly, but her wariness was as apparent as the concealed rage of the Elves. He knew Gilderien had perceived nearly every reason he had brought Ismira here for, and his respect for the guardian had increased.

"You are very sly, Eragon-elda. Very sly indeed", murmured Laetri, glancing at him with a kind of black humour. He smiled back faintly. He did share all his plans and thoughts with her, even if he were not ready to share his mind once more. The Elves were as still as calm water, but he could see their anger burgeoning like a tempest…it was apparent to him. And he found himself in appreciation of their restraint.

Lesser races would have fallen upon Ismira by now, but Elves were different. They had proved it before and now they had proved it again.

Their retinue proceeded through the trees of red and gold, their path littered with leaves of autumn as Ellesmera itself seemed to exude a melancholy detachment in reaction to its denizens' emotions. Perhaps it is not so much restraint as wariness, Eragon, conjectured Saphira as she walked with the majesty of the eldest Dragon. They know at least a part of what we are capable of. Their anger will never blind them to the true shape of the world.

Saphira is right, Ebrithil, said Sahloknir in his deep voice. Ah, and Firnen has contacted me. I believe the Elven court is waiting for us, and that we must be prepared for hostility in either words or action. He warned me that even Arya is extremely angry at you.

"Lord Fiolr is also beside himself with rage, Eragon-elda", said Laetri softly as she closed her eyes and sighed. "I feel his anger saturating the entire city…it is throwing off the calm and disturbing nature. I do not like manipulating my people like this, though this might be the only way. Ismira, please do not challenge the other elf-lords. In Ellesmera they wield great power and you may not be able to overcome them if they decide to act in concert", she warned the woman next to her.

"I can take care of myself", sniffed Ismira as she spoke to Belegroch with a tilt of her head and stroked his snout. They had reached Tialdari Hall, and Eragon could see hints of pity in the eyes of those elves who were watching Belegroch.

Saphira, you will see it all through my eyes. Please remain calm at even the most disturbing situations that might occur in the throne room. You too, Sahloknir. And Belegroch, I will not let any harm come to you or your Rider today. You have my word, he said to the black Dragon. Saphira and Sahloknir had settled down lazily on the ground, watching the Elves with their brilliant eyes.

I will trust in that, Eragon Shur'tugal. She has been hurt in ways only you or Murtagh can understand. Keep her safe.

I will, assented Eragon as his right hand intertwined with Laetri's. "It begins. I think I will say a prayer to Guntera for luck", he said with quiet amusement. A fair elf faced them as the tree-woven doors of Tialdari Hall opened, and bowed to him from the waist. Ismira said nothing as the gatekeeper's eyes flashed at her, and the grip on his sword tightened.

"Queen Arya and her court will see you now, Eragon Kingslayer and Laetri Drottningu."

Eragon inclined his head to the elf and walked behind the elf with his hand in Laetri's. Involuntarily he tightened his grip, and she responded in like as they looked into each other's eyes. It was perhaps not the best time but they had much to resolve between them, matters brewing for more than a century. But for now he would bask in the fact that she was alive and holding his hand. He had come to understand the beauty of that fact, and he would revel in it.

"You are thinking about my injury again, are you not?", she murmured as their thoughts wandered momentarily from their grave task. Eragon looked at her with surprise and she shook her head. "I can tell what you are feeling exactly without need for contact with mind, Eragon-elda. I believe I understand you enough to do that by now…we have been bonded as Riders and Dragons have been, for a century and score years now."

"Yes", acknowledged Eragon as they stood before the doors to the throne room. "Laetri, there is much left unsaid from our last conversation at Utgard. I refuse to let anything be unsaid for longer", he said with shining eyes. "Will you meet me at the roof of Vrael's tree tonight? I will open my mind to you once more…every memory I have concealed from you I will show, if you so wish."

She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on his cheek, even as the doors opened with the utterance of the password from the elf. Ismira was not looking at them, but Eragon faintly felt stirrings of her mind as she focused completely on the task before them.

"I will be there, Eragon-elda."

"Thank you, Laetri", he said gratefully as both their faces grew composed and calm, and they walked behind Ismira to face the Elven nobility and their Queen with their hands in each other's. The elven lords were seated, seemingly not rising to greet him as a mark of their disappointment towards him. Arya was seated upon the knotted throne like the very image of Islanzadi, but Firnen loomed behind her like a great behemoth of shining green.

Anger was visible on every one of their faces as they stared at Ismira, and to an extent him. He could see them fighting with themselves to maintain the decorum of the court, and he saw Arya look at Ismira with scarce-concealed loathing. He saw the her green eyes filled with confusion, anger, affection and far more emotions that he could not name when she looked at him and Laetri as they inclined their heads to her slightly.

"Greetings, Arya Drottning. Atra Esterni Ono Thelduin", he said sincerely. Laetri repeated the greeting softly, holding Arya's gaze as it fixed upon her. The Elven lords bristled at his greetings, some of them even going so far as to loosen their swords in their sheaths. Arya rose from her throne in response to his greeting, and bowed her own head slightly.

"Atra Evarinya ono Varda, Eragon Kingslayer", she replied after a moment. "Do not say the last line of the greeting, Eragon. Peace will not live in our hearts today, not when you have brought her", she looked at Ismira with anger, "to our midst. I do not understand why you choose to cause my people and me such pain; You choose to defend her from our justice, yet you present her in front of our court. Why have you done this?", she asked, the Elves leaning forward to hear his answer.

Before Eragon could answer, Ismira stepped forward with her head held high and spoke with certainty. "I did not seek out the elf and her unborn child to kill, Queen Arya", she said firmly. "I speak in the ancient language, and you know that what I say is true. I was in the midst of completing my own task in Tarnag when that elf woman detected my presence and decided to come after me; I warned her not to interfere, but she did…she fought well, but I killed her in self defense. I swear by my beloved Belegroch that this is the truth", she finished quietly.

The court had gone silent as the elven forests themselves as Ismira declared her innocence in the language of truth. Eragon felt Arya's mind touch his, and opened himself to her voice as she put forth a question only to him.

Does she know the Name of names?

No. Laetri investigated her mind, and she found no trace of it. There is no elf in existence who understands the mind better than she does, he replied with a hint of pride. He responded to Arya's nod with one of his own, when he saw Lord Fiolr rising from his high chair with an expression of absolute hatred on his face. Eragon had seldom seen one of the Elven kind so enraged…and never a lord himself. The lords next to Fiolr who themselves were angered drew back from the pure malice radiating from the Elf-Lord as he stepped on to the floor to face Ismira, who remained steadfast and silent in the face of the hostility.

"You killed my mate and my child who was still unborn", said Fiolr in a terrible voice. "Do you think a plea of self defense will save you from my vengeance? It was your blade that took her life, no one else's. Do you actually wish to claim that for a Rider of your experience, you could not feel the second life growing in her? Will you swear to it?"

Eragon remained silent as he watched his niece meet Fiolr's eyes albeit hesitantly.

"I cannot make any such claim, Elf. I felt the life of her child, yes, but it was too late. She was too ferocious in battle to be granted any sort of mercy…and nothing is more important to me than myself or my Dragon. So, I killed her", stated Ismira plainly. Fiolr's eyes flashed and he struck out at Ismira with his hand, throwing her to the ground with a thud. Eragon saw blood flowing from Ismira's split lip, and the Lords all stood up as they heard Belegroch roar in outrage from outside the hall.

Fiolr's hand flew to his sword as a mad rage seemed to override his restraint. Ismira was thrown down on the ground with a bleeding lip, a bruise forming upon her cheek. The Elves gasped as Indigo light flashed next to Fiolr, conveying Eragon who had captured Fiolr's sword hand with his own in an iron-grip, even as Laetri helped Ismira up gently.

"Let me go, Rider. I will have my vengeance today despite your hypocritical defense of your niece", ground out the Elf-lord. The other twelve Lords were watching carefully as Fiolr and Eragon locked gazes. He tore his hand from Eragon's loosened grasp and turned to Arya with a glint in his eye as he bowed once and drew himself up to his full height.

"Your Majesty, I claim my right of vengeance by single combat as Lord and Prince of House Valtharos, by the laws laid by the High Alalean King Larne the Glorious. I claim my rights by the affirmation of those rights by Queen Tarmunora during the first era of the formation of the Shur'tugal order. I will meet this…this caricature of Shur'tugal in combat and extract my vengeance", he announced grimly. Eragon and Laetri said nothing, standing silent behind Ismira.

This is a truly underhanded way you are making things happen, Eragon, sighed Arya's voice in his head as she looked around the now standing Elves. You knew this would happen, did you not? When did you become so ruthless a manipulator, willing to shape events so subtly?

I am what I need to be. The enemy are not the Riders but the Shade, Arya. This is my way of ensuring that Fiolr's hate does not spill out to the nation…it is true that Ismira is held in contempt, but the first steps have been taken to dispel that. Though it breaks my heart to do this, the hatred must die with Lord Fiolr. The pain coming from such loss cannot be reasoned with or dispelled. I would know, he replied sadly.

I trust you. I trust that you have the wellbeing of my people in your heart. Even though these are my last days as queen, they are my kin.

I understand. I wish your people only bliss, my Queen. But I am a Rider as well, and I will not see the races torn apart by internal strife at a time when unity is required. But you must do as you see fit, Arya…I will influence no monarch to do my bidding, for that way lies corruption, he replied. He knew he was not leaving her many choices, but what else was he to do? No matter Fiolr's acidic nature towards him, he bore the elf no ill will. He knew what it was to lose a loved one, and even he could not imagine the pain of losing one's children. But Fiolr's drive to avenge would undermine his efforts to fight the Shade. The Elven Shade who represented an extremely deadly threat to the free peoples of Alagaesia.

Do not think I am happy about this, Eragon. I still bear anger towards Ismira, no matter the rationalizations you might provide, she said bitterly to him. Laetri was speaking quietly to Ismira as Arya faced Fiolr with a sad look on her face. At times, Eragon truly hated himself for what he had become capable of. Laetri glanced at him concernedly, shaking her head slightly as if she knew exactly what was going through his mind. Her beautiful blue eyes told him one thing only:

You would choose an easier alternative if there was one. Do not blame yourself.

"Lord Fiolr, are you sure you wish to take this action?", asked Arya gravely. "Those laws predate the making of Ellesmera as it is today, and I cannot repeal them. The victor of the duel will be allowed to execute his opponent in any way he chooses fit…upon your win, you will have a lawful way of gaining your vengeance. But if you lose you will deprive us of an illustrious lord such as yourself. Will you not reconsider for the sake of our nation?", she asked sincerely.

"She speaks the truth, Fiolr", said Lord Dathedr, standing on the queen's left. His face was filled with apprehension as he looked at his old friend. "We need you, my friend. One of our own kin has fallen to sorcery most foul and has gathered terrible power. The Elven Lords must stand with our people now, and with the Riders. Please…", he requested with a bowed head. Fiolr said nothing in reply, his expression like stone itself. Dathedr withdrew from the hall when he saw no trace of Fiolr acquiescing, joined by Lord Berentain and a few other Lords.

"You cannot interfere, Eragon Shur'tugal. These laws were affirmed with Anurin's approval, and they are valid for Riders too", he said with blazing eyes. Laetri sighed and patted Ismira's hand and went back to Eragon's side as he met Fiolr's gaze regretfully.

"It is only fair that you have this chance, Lord Fiolr. Riders must take responsibility for their own actions and I have facilitated that for a fellow Rider, nothing more. I would have wished that you could have looked past this somehow", he said quietly, "but I know it is far too much to ask. When do you wish for this duel to be held, and where?", he asked.

Fiolr looked now at Ismira and threw a gauntlet at her feet. Eragon watched as Ismira picked it up stonily and the Elven court watched as a challenge that should never have been issued was. "Ismira, daughter of Roran, I challenge you to a duel to the death in retaliation for the murder of my mate and child. We will meet for the last time near the Menoa tree in the heart of the city as the sun sets. I would have my vengeance where my beloved mate was consigned to the flames", he said in a hard voice.

"I accept", said Ismira in the same hard tone. Eragon bowed slightly to Arya, who was looking very conflicted to him and nodded to the remaining Lords. "We shall take our leave to prepare for this duel. May peace live in your heart", he said firmly, looking Arya in the eye.

Meet us at Vrael's tree with Belegroch and Sahloknir, Saphira, he sent and raised his hand to twist the magic with his will. The three Riders disappeared with a flash of light that threw the Court into sharp relief, leaving behind a melancholy Arya and ten grim elven Lords.