Disclaimer: Every familiar thing you see here does not belong to me.
Anyway, at least this chapter is longer than usual, I've had a lot of fun writing these and hope you like the Riders' inner thoughts. I'd like to insert a dragon POV soon, but I'm not sure where to put it...
Chapter 33: Magic is Many Things
Laden with scrolls, the Riders were standing outside Oromis' home. Katrina kept reminding herself that she held two scrolls in the ancient language, three in the native human tongue and one which was called a dictionary that was written both in the human tongue and the native language. Oromis said that it was important for them to learn as much as they can, and all the Riders were loaded with scrolls, each of them also equipped with a similar dictionary.
Ash was waiting for them with a smile. "Master," Murtagh began, approaching their half-elven master. "When will we start working with magic – aside from that meditation?"
Ash gave her father a strange look before fixing her intense gaze on the younger Rider. "Please, Murtagh, you must trust us with your training. Why else are you standing here instead of doing more gruelling academic tasks in Father's hut? I believe that it would be foolish of us if we delay any part of your training any longer, though. Leave your scrolls for the moment. We shall be exploring the mysteries of gramarye – which I believe Father has been teaching you about."
A soft breeze blew as the Riders headed to a wide clearing in the very middle of the Crags of Tel'nair. Flowers danced in the wind, and the girls' hair flew about like gleaming thread. The grass brushed against their boots. "What is magic?" asked Ash, without turning to face her students.
"It is the manipulation of one's energy through the use of the ancient language to achieve the desired effect," Arya said, as if it can't be anything else.
"Technically correct." Ash visibly relaxed. "It is good to know that you at least know the basics – no matter how minor they are. Many spellcasters, however, do not realize that there is more to magic than that." She sighed, rubbing her forehead. "However, father says that magic is also the art of thinking, which is why our lessons are so closely entwined. It is not merely the strength of your body or your knowledge of the language. We know that even with a limited vocabulary, you can achieve so many things. But you must also know that magic also relies on a disciplined intellect, like many other things that you must study and learn."
Roran frowned. He still looked quite lordly, even then. "Does that mean that Brom taught us in the wrong way?"
"He is right," Eragon argued. "Did Brom use different methods or ideas to teach us?"
Ash chuckled slowly."Yes and no. Brom did not use the normal training regimen and ignored the more subtle lessons in magic that even Arya did not receive, sadly, due to her mother's neglect. However, it was enough to help you all survive. Of course, we cannot use the same regimen either since we are on limited time, but we will be focusing on the skills that you will need in the coming days. Crude mechanics of magic have been taught to you, and likely more if Brom had the time before you reached the Varden. However, aside from many important things that you must learn, I will also be teaching you secrets that you can speak to no one aside from us and Brom. These spells and techniques are potent and dangerous. They are rarely shared with apprentice and novice Riders."
"Then why teach us?" asked Katrina. Within her bubbled a strong feeling of curiosity – something that Eragon and Murtagh probably felt within them all the time. She wanted to learn so much about magic. Shattering the Isidar Mithrim – admittedly with help – opened her eyes to the possibilities that magic offered.
"Circumstances demand that I must divulge them even if you only passed tuatha du orothrim and are still undergoing du mor'ranr gata, or the path of peace. Only when you finish that level shall you be known as full Riders." Ash's lip twitched in a small grin. She slowly raised her right hand, mockingly imitating the famed elven grace. "I must trust your judgement and hope that you will not abuse them. Adurna!"
From the brook by the hut flew a sphere of water that hovered through the air until it reached Ash's outstretched fingers. Though Katrina remembered the dark brown brook as a very muddy body fo water, the sphere was as smooth and colorless as glass. Small flecks of moss, dirt and other debris still floated lazily inside the orb.
"You are young, but old enough to be considered young adults by humans." Ash smiled mischievously. "But I hope you are not adverse to playing games. I love games."
Nasuada grumbled, rubbing her arms. "As long as your idea of games are not the same as your sister's… Master. Her idea of fun and games hurt."
Arya winced. "Hurt is stating it mildly."
Ash nodded. "Oh, I understand that. You are not the only ones who experienced that kind of… pain… when crossing blades with Serylda. She is a fearsome warrior, which is why she survived the Fall. And she relishes battle. She might seem like your typical elf on the outside, but as a Rider, she is not really like elves. Maybe that is a requirement for being a Rider like young Arya Drottning here, but I do not know. Father and Vrael are very much elf-like to me."
"What will we be learning today, Master?" Katrina asked eagerly. She did not even mind the others' stares.
Ash smiled. She twirled her index finger idly, and the globe of water spun with it. "We shall be playing a childhood friend of mine while I teach you an important lesson in magic. Pass this around and use magic to catch it. Whoever breaks the ball will be revealing a personal secret."
"Personal secret?" spluttered Eragon.
"Yes. A secret that none of your friends know about you. Catch!" Ash tossed the sphere toward Arya.
"Letta!"
The young elf barely managed to catch it. Turning white, she tossed it to Roran, where the sphere wobbled when Roran hurriedly imitated Arya's words. Murtagh – Nasuada – Eragon – then Katrina. The ball of water was steadily turning unstable as it passed hands. But when Katrina caught it, it seemed as hard as glass again. She didn't even know what she was unconsciously doing, except that it felt so simple that she wondered why her friends were having trouble. Ash gave her a speculative look.
Katrina smiled and tossed the ball to Roran, who yelped as the water lost cohesion, splashing across his chest. "Sorry!"
"It might have been easier if we formed a circle before we started," Ash said with a grin. "Sorry about that. So, Roran my dear, what secret shall you grace us with today?"
Roran immediately turned white. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Eragon and Murtagh moved close to him with identically mischievous grins. One of the muttered something, making Roran turn red and brush them aside. He looked up, staring at them with a terrifying smile. "I was the one who ate the missing pile of sweets during that Hallowed Eve seven years ago."
"You… What?" roared Murtagh. "I got in trouble for that because my fingers were coated in sugar and uncle thought I was the culprit! I had nothing to do with that!"
"Now, now, there is time to settle this later," Eragon said, a big smile on his face. "Roran will be properly sorry for that later."
Ash chuckled. "Form a circle. Adurna!"
The exercise continued with the Riders doing their best to keep the new sphere from breaking – until Murtagh overenthusiastically tossed it to Arya's face. The elf stumbled and yelled, "Barzul, Murtagh! Did you have to throw so roughly?" She angrily muttered something in the ancient language to dry herself and continued cursing in dwarvish, the human tongue and the ancient language.
"I've never seen an elf feel so strongly about anything," Eragon noted, earning a glare from her.
"Oh, do stop it," Nasuada said. She put a hand on Arya's shoulder. "So, my dear friend, what will you be sharing with us today?"
Arya laughed. "I once ate some of Nasuada's dinner when she wasn't paying attention to her food."
"You… what?"
Katrina laughed. "You heard her clearly!"
Ash cleared her throat, silencing the group. "Now, now. Break it up, if you don't want to see a master magic user apply what she knows to all of you!" That did the trick. "Now, we shall be doing other exercises for you to learn how to control magic. Do not worry, it will take only a minimal amount of strength, so pay close attention."
Murtagh enjoyed the small exercises that Ash put them through. They manipulated water, shaping it into complex knots and shapes, changing the color of the light it absorbed or reflected, and freezing it in prescribed sequences.
"Never use absolutes," Ash said firmly when Eragon rushed to manipulate his orb. "It could kill you in many situations."
"Absolutes?" asked Roran.
"Wording your spells in a certain way might lead you to only two outcomes, which are success and death." Ash slapped Arya's hand when the elf tried to touch her sphere. "That is especially important when you are countering an enemy's spell. You might expend your energy trying to break it, and died before you learned that it was futile."
Murtagh tried to process that in his mind. I never thought magic was so complicated.
Oh, really, Thorn said dryly. I will note this lecture for your future reference, though I doubt you will forget. This is highly important.
"Turning the spell into a sequence of processes that you can stop when you want to could help. For examle, if someone traps your legs, simply using a spell to release your calves would not be enough. You could simply reduce the magic that is trapping your calves instead. It might be wordy and long, but then you could decrease the spell bit by bit, and even remove it entirely if you judge that you truly can."
"Will we be practicing that method of casting spells soon?" asked Katrina. There was a hungry look in her eyes which was so uncharacteristic of her.
Ash motioned to them. "We already are. I am training you by teaching you to follow certain sequences in achieving an effect. When you have perfected this, we will be moving to more complex spells that you must counter."
Dark specks in the sky signalled that the dragons were arriving shortly. Excitement rippled through the small group. Murtagh's lips curled into a smile that was mirrored by the other Riders. I am touched, Thorn said mockingly.
Shut up, Murtagh said half-heartedly.
Oromis and Serylda joined them for the customary questions and answers that marked the end of their training for the day. Serylda nodded, pleased that the Riders and their dragons were still sharing all their lessons. "Good. You are learning. From now on, please endeavor to speak only in the ancient language. This is the fastest way for you to learn all that we can teach you."
"Even when we talk to each other and our dragons?" Eragon asked, looking slightly queasy.
"Even then, Eragon-finiarel. Only by doing so will our venture succeed." Serylda flashed them one of her rare smiles – something not even Oromis dared share with them. "We have agreed to send elves to guide you to the place in Ellesmera where elves practice swordplay. You will be staying with them there for an hour before we continue on as normal. That way, you will be learning how to deal with different fighting styles, not just the ones Brom taught you, and the ones that I can show."
"Besides, we are not representatives of our race," Oromis said. "You must become acquainted with others who live here. Even you, Arya Drottningue."
You are all getting much better, Glaedr said, pride welling up within him. We shall be training together soon, little Riders.
"Of course, Skulblaka," Murtagh replied, unable to hide his excitement. What could a dragon teach Riders?
The the first half of the flight back to their tree houses passed in silence. Then, Thorn began to open up to Murtagh. I feel… so lonely, he began. Ever since we met the three elder dragons, the females had their eyes only for Brand and Aegar. They have started to take us for granted.
They are not interested in Glaedr?
He has the air of someone who has been chosen – and chose in return – a mate. Our kind also mates for life, you know. Thorn snorted, tendrils of smoke dancing out of his nostrils. Females usually initiate the mate-choosing.
And now they only consider their masters as potential mates. Murtagh put a hand on Thorn's neck. I wish we both had the courage to say what we feel to the females that we have set our eyes on.
Eragon was so exhausted that he could barely stomach a light supper. He was just about to open one of Oromis' scrolls when Murtagh and Roran stumbled into his room without asking for permission. His twin, in particular, still seemed quite annoyed with their cousin – whose hair was smoking, as he noticed.
"Bloody Thorn nearly roasted me," he was muttering.
Murtagh gave him a smug look. "Anyway, the others are already waiting outside. Arya wanted to take us to another magical place in this magical city." He cleared his throat. "We shouldn't keep them waiting. You know women."
"Yes, we know. Ugh, women," Eragon said.
As said, the others were waiting in the small clearing in the center of the clustered houses. The dragons soared above them, with one letting out a small roar every now and then. Arya flashed her friends a brilliant smile, and Eragon hoped that he wasn't turning a ridiculous shade of red. "I thought that you might want to see Tialdari Hall and its adjacent gardens – if you aren't too tired."
"Oh, no, we're brimming with energy," Murtagh said. He made a face as the dragons landed one by one, making the ground rumble. "Speaking only in the ancient language is a challenge, isn't it? But actually, this would prove interesting. Lead on, Arya Drottningu."
Many elves down the path stopped to bow to the dragons, but all of them were adults, or at least around Arya's age. Eragon frowned. "Where are the little children?"
Arya's lip twitched. "Eragon, we are little children in the eyes of my people," she said in amusement. "But aye, there are few elf children. Aside from me and Vanir, who is one year my junior, there are only two others at the present, Dusan and Alanna, who are twins. My people treasure children above all else because we are so rare. To have a child is the greatest honor and responsibility that can be bestowed upon any living being – or so, father would say. You wouldn't really notice it if you just observe my mother."
"Don't speak like that," Katrina said, "I am sure that your mother loves you."
"A mother loving her children and treating her well are two different things," Eragon murmured, remembering his encounters with Selena. "You would not understand, Katrina. Ismira loved you and did her best for you."
They arrived at a massive archway door grown between two trees. A flowery vine wrapped delicately around it. They were at the entrance to a wide compound. "Root of tree, fruit of vine, let me pass by this blood of mine," Arya murmured.
The doors trembled and swung upward, releasing a cluster of monarch butterflies that fluttered toward the pale, dusky sky. Within the archway was a massive garden of flowers that were arranged in such a way that they resembled a wild meadow. The sheer variety of plants ruined the image, though. A lot of them were blooming out of season, or came from other climates and would not survive without elven magic. Gemlike flameless lanterns in white and swirling fireflies illuminated the place.
Magical was the right word for it.
"Mind your tails," Arya warned the dragons. "You might accidentally destroy the beds."
Of course we will mind them, Solaris said dryly. We would not want to have a horde of angry elves chasing after us.
They walked through the garden, passing a line of trees which steadily grew numerous until they thickened into a massive, organic wall. They were standing in a hall of burnished wood, without noticing that they even went inside.
Amazing.
Saphira quietly agreed. The elves do many wondrous things with magic – wondrous and beautiful for both their kind and yours.
The place was warm and welcoming. It felt like home – a place of peace, reflection and comfort. It was shaped by tree trunks which were stripped of bark from inside the hall, polished and rubbed with oil until the wood gleamed beautifully. There were gaps between trunks that served as windows. Eragon breathed in the scent of pine needles, and his thoughts wandered to the elf who was leading their group.
Elves occupied the hall, busy working on their own little projects. Some were reading, some were writing, and one was absent-mindedly playing a set of reed pipes. All of them paused and inclined their heads to acknowledge the dragons' presence.
"You would be left to stay here, if you were not Riders and dragons," Arya said with distaste.
"It's beautiful," Nasuada said, running a hand down a portion of the wall.
They were guided through the areas in the compound that were accessible to dragons, and the amazing thing was that no two rooms were exactly alike. Each chamber was made to incorporate the forest in every way that it could, and the Riders audibly gasped in awe at most of them. One room had a silver brook gurgling down the gnarled wall, crossing the floor on a vein of colorful pebbles and back out under the sky. Another room was blanketed by creepers – except for the floor – like a leafy green pelt adorned with delicate pink and white flowers shaped like trumpets.
"That's the Liani Vine," Arya said.
Elven works of art, from fairths to paintings to sculptures to mosaics of stained glass, dotted the place, depicting the curved shapes of plants and the forms of animals.
They even met Islanzadi for a brief time, when they visited a small open pavilion joined to two other buildings by covered pathways. She inquired about their training and the state of Eragon's back, which he answered in a flustered stammer. She seemed satisfied, though. After exchanging a few words with the dragons,she departed.
They returned to the garden in the end. Arya spoke about the variety of flowers, where they originated, the way they were maintained, and how some of them were altered in magic. She even pointed out flowers that only opened their petals during the night, such as the white datura.
Curiosity sparked within Eragon – the sensation was so familiar to him, it felt like he couldn't be complete without it. "Which one is your favorite?"
Arya turned red and glanced at him. She motioned for him, and him alone, to follow her to a tree on the very edge of the garden. They stopped by a pond lined with rushes. At the lowest branch of the tree coiled a morning glory that held three black blossoms sealed shut for the night.
Arya blowed on them. "Open," she murmured. With a soft rustle, the flower petals unfurled, revealing the nectar in ther center. Deep blue colored the flowers' throats, melding seamlessly with the dark petals – like night turning into day. "Is it not the most perfect and lovely flower?"
"Yes," Eragon said slowly, his eyes lifting to meet her gaze. Blue met green, and he was suddenly aware of how close they were at that moment. He did not care that the others most likely whispered behind their backs, speculating… wondering… "But as are you."
Eragon, what were you thinking? No, wait, you weren't thinking at all! Saphira let out a low growl.
Arya stared at him intently, as if she could bore a hole in his face with the intensity of her gaze. A small blush colored her cheeks as her lips parted in a faint, amused smile. "You are too kind." She paused, touching the tip of one inky petal. "Father created these for me, during his last summer solstice."
Eragon shuffled his feet, mumbling something unintelligible. He did not know if he was hurt or relieved that Arya did not take his compliment more seriously. He wanted to turn invisible, and wondered if he could cast a spell that would allow him to do that. He did not know how to respond to her properly.
"It is late," Murtagh called out. "How long must we wait for you to stop staring at each other like that? It is late, and we must study a few things to be prepared tomorrow."
Since I really can't decide, I decided to tease all the ships (if you squint hard).
Training! Teenage drama! Raging hormones! What will our Riders be facing next?
Read and review as always! I'd say more, but my mom is dragging me to church and will freak out if I'm not ready TWO HOURS BEFORE MASS. My fanatically religious mother freaks me out sometimes.