Disclaimer: Nope.
Sorry for the delay, the dragon POV gave me a bit of trouble! Hope you like it though. Just so you're not confused, the last two POV's happen almost simultaneously.
Chapter 31: Reasons
Arya walked away from Eragon's tree house, feeling Firnen's presence in her mind. She glanced up to her own home, where the green dragon hovered, glittering like jeweled leaves. Firnen craned his neck to see her properly. I take that it went well.
I suppose so. Arya went back to her tree house, still wondering what made her scramble up Eragon's home when she heard Firnen note that there was a lot of activity in the blue Rider's house during the storm.
It is because you care, Firnen finally said after a moment of silence. You would have done the same for me.
Arya nodded, settling back to her bed. But I would do it for him. Not for Murtagh, not for Roran. And they're my friends too. Very good friends. She laid back, not caring if it ruffled her tunic or her hair. I would do it for Eragon.
Just then, an unfamiliar presence touched her mind. She did her best to fortify her mind the way she learned from Brom and Faolin, concentrating on an image of Jordskalv's glittering green blade. Then, Serylda's voice broke through her barrier. It is admirable, Arya Drottningu, a little better than your friends', but it is unnecessary, as I have told them. Bring your blade with you today. As abruptly as it arrived, the presence vanished.
Firnen blinked. Well, you better do as she says.
Arya sighed and sat up. She quickly began smoothing her hair. What would Eragon – or her other friends – think? I have to be more alert and prepared, she finally said, belting on Jordskalv. It felt strangely different, hanging from her elven tunic. She would have had me at her mercy if she was one of our enemies.
Firnen snorted. She is not. And besides, nothing of the sort would happen with me around.
After a few more seconds, Arya left her new home on Firnen's back, where they joined the other dragons and Riders waiting for them. Eragon gave her a nod and a small grin, his rich blue eyes shimmering like a pair of Saphira's scales. "You are late," he said in amusement.
"I had a lot of thoughts in my head," murmured Arya, refraining herself from adding that he was playing a big part in those thoughts.
Roran gave them a knowing look and cleared his throat. "You have all the time in the world once our training for the day is over," he said. "Are you ready?"
Arya nodded, and the dragons rose in a rush of air, their scales glittering like gems. The green Rider could still remember the day they met the Riders from Carvahall, and she then admired the beauty of the colorful dragons soaring together. She admired them even more now, as they grew in beauty, power and strength.
Her stomach clenched as she saw the extent of the damage in Du Weldenvarden. The storm left the trees around Ellesmera mostly untouched, but far away, where her people's magic held less ground, hundreds of pines were knocked over. A golden cloud of pollen fluttered around the trees and flowers, as if trying to conceal the devastation. Sadness filled her, and she averted her gaze.
As much as my people would like to pretend that it is, nature is not all beauty and creation, she told Firnen. It causes devastation too – something which not even magic can fully restore.
After a few quiet seconds, Arya and Firnen exchanged memories of their lessons from the day before. She explained the small things she learned from her observation in her clearing – of the ants gathering food, rabbits scampering in play, and eagles looking for suitable prey. Firnen explained about downdrafts and other dangerous weather patterns that they might experience, and of course, how to avoid them.
They're right, you know, Firnen mused.
Who, and what?
Firnen paused, as if unsure of how to continue. The Crags of Tel'nair loomed before them, glowing golden in the pale early morning light. Our masters. We must share everything we know and learn with each other if we are to survive and become a true dragon and Rider.
Arya nodded. Then we keep our minds open and share everything today. She grinned.
The elder Riders and their dragons waited for them, the massive ancient dragons' scales glowing as the vivid sunlight hit them. The elder Riders interrogated the dragons about their partners' lessons. The elder dragons questioned the Riders about their partners' learnings. Luckily, everyone was able to answer all questions perfectly.
"Very good, all of you," Serylda said with a smile.
Yes, yes. Well played, little ones, Aegar said.
The female dragons shifted proudly at his statement. Arya flashed a knowing look at Firnen. Glad to see that you little males finally found some competition.
Firnen narrowed his eyes at his Rider. Shut up.
Arya almost snorted. Language, my dear dragon. Where are you learning it?
From the little two-leg boys, of course.
Arya climbed down her dragon's back with a smile. You take care out there. Try not to do something reckless or imbecilic just to show off to Saphira.
Firnen gave her his best dragon glare. Of course not!
Glaedr spread his massive wings, scales rippling like a massive pool of molten gold. Little ones, shall we go?
With quiet assent, the other dragons all raised their wings as one and took to the skies, buffeting their Riders with a strong, united gust of wind. Arya smiled, aware of the link she now carefully maintained with Firnen so that they would learn what the other learned.
Oromis turned to Eragon, his eyes softer. "Your voice sounds rougher today, Eragon-finiarel. Are you well?"
"My back." Eragon glanced uncomfortably at Murtagh, who frowned, as if to berate him for not talking about it earlier. "It was earlier this morning, during the storm."
The elf's eyes softened. "You have my sympathies." He paused before motioning – as if to turn away and leave. "I have some things to attend to, and as much as I would like to watch your assessment, I cannot stay for today."
"We understand, Master," Katrina said with a smile.
Once Oromis left, Ash grinned at the Riders. "Serylda is better in physical battle than me. It would serve you well to show her your best."
Serylda chuckled, unsheathing the bloodred sword hanging from her hip. It was thicker than the swords which the Riders used, made for slashing and chopping, not the finer swordsmanship that Brom taught. An elf used such a barbaric weapon? Serylda grinned, and she suddenly looked more like her half-sister. "Oh, not all elves prefer the flimsy little pokers they call swords," she said with a sniff. "Now, today we shall forgo the Rimgard, despite Ash's insistence."
"Hey!" the half-elf protested.
Serylda grinned wider. She hefted her sword, which glinted menacingly under the sun. She pointed the blade at Arya. "You, Princess," she said in the Ancient Language. "I wish to see your full capabilities with a sword."
Arya reluctantly drew Jordskalv, the emerald blade reflecting the shade of her eyes almost perfectly. The sword felt small and flimsy against Serylda's beast of a weapon. "As you wish, Master Serylda," she said, trying to sound as impassive as she could.
"Then guard the edge of your blade as Brom taught you."
Nodding, the young elven princess summoned her magic, the ability coming easier to her now. She knew that even with the raw strength and speed that her youth gave her against an older elf. A green spark danced around her thumb and forefinger, which she ran down the length of Jordskalv's blade. Gritting her teeth, the elven princess faced off with the ancient Rider.
Murtagh warily watched Eragon take his place in front of Seylda. The younger brother was the last to be tested, and the elven Rider did not even break a sweat after sparring with the other Riders and shouting out tips to them. Eragon shot him a glance, his eyes unsure.
Murtagh nodded reassuringly – or at least, he hoped it seemed that way. There is nothing else to do but show her the best of your abilities, he said.
Eragon nodded in understanding. He hefted his blade, barely fast enough to defend himself when Serylda dealt the opening blow. Not even Arya managed to fend the older elf off for over a few minutes.
Serylda let out a small yell as her sword met with Eragon's, but the elf's capabilities soon showed the way that they outclassed Eragon's. As before, Serylda barked out tips on improving his fighting style and to better defend himself against her.
She was untouchable as always.
Not even a style of fighting invented on the spot could defend Eragon from a painful rap to his thigh. Murtagh winced, knowing the pain his brother must feel. He rubbed his left arm, where a similar blow landed minutes before. None of the Riders could land even a feather light blow to Serylda, and they all received painful reminders of their assessment.
A few minutes passed, and Eragon lashed out with his sword, the blue blade shimmering momentarily like a captured piece of the sea. Then, he twisted, overextended, and strained his back. The sword dropped from his hand immediately and he crumpled on the ground.
Murtagh moved forward as Serylda stumbled backward, losing all of her grace and poise in that single, sudden moment. He reached his brother the same time that Arya did, and he caught her looking at him. He didn't understand what passed between them at that moment, but they nodded to each other before turning back to the reason for their concern.
Eragon let out a deep, shuddering breath. Arya pushed back the hair on his face, a sad look in her eyes. Murtagh tried to reach Eragon through his mind, but was met with a sharp wall of red-hot pain that was barely muffled by a screen of darkness.
Thorn pressed against the edges of his mind. What is happening? We can barely calm down Saphira!
It's Eragon, Murtagh said grimly. It happened again.
Thorn sent him a mental image of the blue dragon thrashing in mid-air, none of the dragons brave enough to approach her in fear of accidentally injuring her – or themselves. We cannot even talk to her, he said in worry.
We cannot talk to my brother either, and I do not know if he is even conscious, groaned Murtagh. He tried to keep himself calm. He had to. And he cursed himself quietly for being unable to do anything about Eragon's current condition.
The bright-forest-sun-above-the-world was as vivid as ever. It was as if the midnight-raging-storm never happened at all. It was another normal day above the green-leaf-roof of the elf-woods. They headed steadily north, to the craggy mountains that broke through the endless-green-leaves.
In front of them, Aegar-Blood-Scales talked on. That is the reason why you must be careful when breathing fire. You might injure your Rider – and the other people riding on your back.
Saphira hovered nearest to him, her blue-as-the-endless-sky eyes watching him intently. As always, she held herself with so much grace and pride that Thorn himself wondered why none of the other male dragons begged her to mate with them.
He would have, if he thought of her that way.
Thorn thought of Saphira more like a nest-mate, most probably because their Riders – along with Askanir's little Roran – were nest-mates bonded together by more than just blood. It bound their dragons similarly, and now Thorn and Askanir would never look at Saphira like a potential mate.
But that didn't mean that a dragon like him would never appreciate her beauty.
Saphira turned her graceful neck to face him, flicking an amused thought into his mind. You shouldn't keep your mind so open, she told him with a tinge of pride.
Thorn blinked. Do not let it get inside your head.
Solaris gave him a smoldering-quiet-sad look. Yes, her scales truly imitate the lovely color of the sky, do they not? She sounded sad, longing.
Thorn snorted. Do you think that matters to me? I know she is a beautiful and strong flier, but she is like a sister to me, as those two-legs put it. He paused, staring at Solaris and her beautiful-like-gold-coins scales. You are far more interesting.
Brand let out a small roar. Thorn Firescales, Solaris Sunscales, what are the five easiest escape maneuvers that can be done with a Rider on your back?
Solaris bowed her head, though with great hardship on her part. It was difficult to bend dragon pride. I do not know… Master.
One of their three masters seemed ready to berate them for not paying attention, but something in the air changed. Saphira twitched, and a burst of excruciating-red-hot-unbearable pain danced out of her mind, making the other dragons raise most of their defenses so that they can only hear her voice. She let out a roar and began to twitch, with nobody daring to get near her in the fear of hurting her. Badly.
Saphira! Firnen's anguished roar resonated through everyone's link. He sounded hatchling-helpless. He twitched, as if about to move forward.
Thorn contacted Murtagh, who seemed to be in the middle of panicking too. What is happening? We can barely calm down Saphira!
It's Eragon, Murtagh replied tiredly. It happened again.
Thorn showed him the situation with his kin, and the thrashing Saphira. We cannot even talk to her, he said, hoping he was not afraid.
We cannot talk to my brother either, and I do not know if he is even conscious, Murtagh mused, sounding as if he was doing his best to stay calm.
Luneria moved forward, pressing her moon-bright body against his. Do not come nearer if you do not wish to hurt her – or yourself.
Saphira stopped twitching, frozen in front of them. She looked weary – like an old two-legs-round-ears who had seen as much of the world in the short years that their curious race had without the bond with the dragons. Something has happened to Eragon, she said.
Well, so that's it for this update! I hope I satisfied you with the dragon POV's, they were fun to write! Thinking of good dragon lessons was challenging, though...
And as I've mentioned before, the Banishing of Names didn't happen (I was kind of freaking out by that comment about it) and something else happened. That's why the Forsworn are different kinds of crazy.
For those confused about Elva, well, she wasn't "Cursed" by the Riders, right? The blessing went the way it should, so she's got a different set of powers this time :)
Using magic for mundane stuff like air-conditioning shall be widespread by the time Galby is destroyed. It's so freaking convenient, and Surdans have nothing to fear from it!
We'll be seeing Carvahall soon. And the villagers will take a level in badass.
Which Rider pair do you want to see in action next chapter? Heehee.
Read and review, as always!