Disclaimer: I don't own the Inheritance Cycle. Or else THIS would be Eldest.
Anyway, this chapter is long overdue, I know. It's just that it's monsoon season and I ended up bedridden for half a week after braving a minor flooding to get home.
Sorry for that. Anyway, on with the show!
Chapter 37: The Passage of Time
Emboldened by the progress of the last few days, the Riders threw themselves at their training with all their might, earning their masters' praises. They devoted most of their time to their studies, while their nights were spent getting to know more about their feelings and the objects of their strange new passions.
The other free time they had which was not spent for sleep was also used to master their lessons. They learned words to make, bind and summon, the true names of plants and animals, and the perils of transmutation – which Katrina scoffed at. They studied the different skills needed to understand and control the forces of the world, work with the different sources of energies, and how to estimate the energy that their bodies could expend.
Orik often came to watch, sometimes standing by the edge of the clearing accompanied by Faolin. None of them commented to the Riders, but they often talked to each other while Ash tutored the Riders in a new spell, or whenever Serylda gave them a thorough beating during a sparring session while barking out suggestions on how to improve their form and technique.
Katrina embraced the challenges with excitement. She now relished being a Rider, and she was finally aware that she was chosen for a reason. She wanted to prove Vanir and Nidavel wrong. She was the one who excelled in powerful bursts and feats of magic, though Eragon showed finer control of gramarye by directing it better with his words. It didn't matter to her. If she could get what she wanted in just a few words – or blow up what needed to be blown up – then she was content.
Curiously enough, Arya was the one who excelled in medicinal magic and healing itself. Many times the others went hungry or even horribly sick due to their failures in detecting poison in food, but the elf barely had to make an effort. Holding multiple spells simultaneously was also a challenge, though Katrina enjoyed learning it – though not the pain it inflicted her whenever she accidentally released the wrong spell.
Imbuing matter with energy, altering appearances and the connection to Rhunon's craft and Riders' swords was also an interesting subject that held most of the Riders' attention when Ash discussed them.
Ash and Serylda took to giving each of the Riders one by one lessons in spellcasting and swordsmanship to hone their individual gifts and to develop their own techniques. They were often called away from Oromis' tutelage – nose-deep in books about history, culture, Ancient Language and many other subjects, or entangled in lessons on alternative ways of thinking – to meet the respective mentor who summoned them.
Katrina enjoyed a good read every now and then, and the literary works that their masters loaned them never disappointed her. She was interested in adventure and romance both, and it was refreshing to read about something she hasn't heard Brom recite before. She usually read these tales over dinner, or while waiting for her now regular flights with Luneria, Roran and Askanir.
Of course, Luneria and the other dragons also went on with their own training. Exercises, mock battles and training their fire breathing skills were just some of the things they worked on. Information on dragonlore passed over Katrina's head most of the time, barely clinging on to important bits that she knew she had to be aware of. Glaedr spoke of fond memories about Saphira's sire and dam. Even Thorn and Askanir learned about their parentage, though the golden dragon claimed not to have met the other three's parents, though he assured them that they came from the same nest.
Sometimes the Riders all took off with their dragons to practice aerial combat, while sometimes the elder Riders and dragons switched pupils for different kinds of lessons – all of which were quite interesting in their own way.
Of course, the group still sparred with Vanir's group every morning. Though Randarion and his three female companions treated the Riders with friendly politeness, Vanir and Nidavel were a different matter altogether.
Vanir seemed to have singled out Eragon, partnering with him all the time. He seemed to relish triggering one or even more of Eragon's seizures, and the other five Riders told him off angrily so many times before that Katrina was not sure she could keep track of it. Vanir and Nidavel made sure that the Riders started their day heavily irate, though they stayed polite, never losing their temper even when throwing snide comments and needling the Riders even with the slightest movement. Some other younger elves watched with similarly veiled distaste.
Of course, they showed nothing but respect for the seething dragons.
Eragon was especially sore after being defeated by Vanir six time in a row during a single sparring session. The haughty elf lowered his sword with distaste clear in his dark eyes. "Dead yet again, Shadeslayer," he said, almost spitting out the last word. He rolled his eyes. "This is getting repetitive. Do you wish to continue?" He made it sound pointless.
Eragon just glared sullenly, having already suffered an episode with his back. He did not want to bandy words anymore. Careful, Saphira warned.
What do you think am I doing? He was close to his breaking point.
With a yell, Murtagh's sword flew out of his hands with one swift blow from Nidavel nearby. "Tell me," the elf said, raising his voice for the entire field to hear. "You are making me curious, you and your… crippled brother."
"He is not crippled," Arya barked.
Eragon glared at Nidavel, who turned to watch him coolly. "We caught him by surprise."
Vanir's lip curled into a faint sneer. "Forgive me. I should have guessed that trickery was involved."
"If our races were reversed, I doubt that you could match my blade."
"Perhaps, but I do not think so. You should not boast to a better swordsman. It is more than in his power to punish you for even thinking." With two blows, he disarmed Eragon. Kylskada flew off his hand, landing right beside Eldsvard, red and blue blades glittering angrily.
Wrath filled Eragon. Ripples of quiet outrage could be heard from the watching elves, and from Randarion's group who stopped their sparring to watch. The Rider reached out to magic and released his pent-up energy and rage. "Malthinae!" he yelled, meaning to chain Vanir's legs and arms in place. He also wanted to hold the elf's jaw shut to prevent him from uttering a counterspell. Vanir's eyes seemed to burn with anger.
"Eragon, no!" yelled Roran. "Don't be an idiot!"
Vanir's dark eyebrows met. There was no warning at all – no sound or movement. An invisible force hit Eragon's chest and threw him ten yards across the grass. He landed on his side, heaving and wheezing. The impact distracted Eragon, making him release his magic. "Ignorant human. You do not know what you are doing."
"You will bring nothing but doom," Nidavel said quietly. His eyes flickered to Arya. "All of you."
"To think you were chosen to inherit such a great honor, chosen by dragons themselves. You were chosen to succeed the Council of Elders themselves, given their quarters and even have the honor of serving the Mourning Sage and his family…" He shook his head in frustration. "You make me sick. Why could such gifts be bestowed upon unworthy people? You do not even understand magic."
Nasuada strode toward him, blade drawn. "Have we ever done something to wrong you, elf? Why do you despise us and ou race? Would you prefer it if the dragons chose no Rider at all to oppose Galbatorix and his Forsworn?"
"Does it seem like our opinions are of consequence?" Vanir asked her calmly.
Nasuada bristled. "They are not, but it would still be good to hear them."
Before he could answer, Randarion approached Vanir. "Give them a straight and honest answer," he threatened. "Or your sire shall hear about what is transpiring in these fields."
"As you command, Lord Randarion," Vanir said with a cold smile. He turned to the Riders, his eyes glinting angrily. "We elves had no hope of victory and freedom after the Fall, surviving through deceit and magic. We were trapped in our forest, knowing that Galbatorix shall someday raise an army powerful enough to wipe us out. We were resigned to our fates when Brom and Jeod discovered the long-rumored hiding place of dragon eggs. How Galbatorix and his Forsworn never found them, we shall never know, but my father told me of the joy and celebration that followed." He paused, studying the blade he held. "You also know that we all expected the new Riders to rise with more power than Vrael, all the other members of the council. Yet we were rewarded with yet another group of humans like Galbatorix and half his Forsworn. We did get an elf, but she barely seems to have the potential that our race offers. Worse, one of the humans is a cripple. You have all doomed us the moment you touched those dragon eggs."
"He is correct." Nidavel sneered. "Do not expect any elf to welcome your presence. I do not know what those fool dragons were thinking, choosing any of you."
Vanir touched his lips with his first and second finger before walking off the sparring field. After a moment, Nidavel followed. Randarion shook his head in mixed wonder and disbelief. "Fools," he said quietly. "They are both fools."
Mindeth tilted her head. "Would you like me to go after them?"
"No," Randarion said, sheathing his blade. "Their parents – and Queen Islanzadi – shall hear about this from me."
"Vanir called you a lord," Murtagh said, picking up his blade dejectedly. "Is that true?"
Randarion made a face. "Aye. My parents – the heads of our House – died in the same battle that took King Evandar's life." He said the last few words slowly, as if gauging Arya's reaction.
The elf princess' face remained stoic. "Not even the queen can force people to change opinions," she mused.
Eragon walked over to Kylskada and picked it up. He glanced at Saphira. He is right, though. The other elves – even Vanir – would probably make better Riders than me.
Saphira's eyes smoldered with simmering anger. Are you thinking so little of a dragon's judgement, Eragon? She seemed ready to breathe fire. Smoke curled from her nostrils, warm and terrifying at the same time. We were all exposed to each and every one of those elves, as well as the children of the rejected them all, because we had to choose someone that can help all the races of Alagaesia – especially your race, mine and the elves. We found the right people at the right place and at the right time. Don't forget that.
Elmyra put a hand on Eragon's shoulder. "Nidavel and Vanir are fools. Not all elves share their sentiments. Remember that."
A slightly subdued group made its way to the Crags of Tel'nair. Roran slumped on Askanir's saddle, barely taking in the wondrous sight that often took his breath away. Though he was sure that most of Vanir's words were directed toward Eragon and his condition, the elf still struck a nerve.
He has a point, you know, he said. What will take us decades to develop is already inherent among elves. And we don't have decades.
Askanir's eyes flicked toward him for a moment. Roran, we dragons choose Riders for reasons. It is not just about the power of a person. It is also about their heart. Think. Murtagh and Eragon were both chosen. Nasuada is chosen, while Himeria is not. To be honest, Faolin would also make a good Rider, but it feels like he does not want to, which is why none of us even considered him.
You may have chosen people who match you, but are any of us fit to save and protect Alagaesia?
Yes.
They reached the Crags, where Oromis was the one waiting for them. He was sitting at the table outside the huts, painting a landscape, lining it with black ink at the bottom edge of a scroll with some writings. As one, the Riders bowed and knelt. "Master."
It was a full fifteen minutes before Oromis regarded them – after finishing his work, laying aside his ink and cleaning his brush. "Why have you come so early? It is barely time for us to start for today."
"We apologize for disturbing you," Eragon began. He still looked weary. Roran could barely imagine what he was going through, physically and emotionally. "Vanir and Nidavel abandoned our contests partway through. Randarion and his friends went off… to settle matters afterward, and we do not know what to do next."
"And why did Vanir and Nidavel leave, Eragon-vodhr?"
After a long discussion following the retelling of what happened in the sparring field, a new topic was opened. It was all about magic without the use of the ancient language. A lot of the theories barely registered in Roran's mind. He expected Katrina and Eragon to drink it all in, though, what with their aptitude with magic – Eragon with the finer points of spells and Katrina with the more… explosive side of magic.
The discussion turned to the Grey Folk, a strange, ancient race tied to the history of magic and the ancient language. It also gave them a new insight on the abilities that dragons possessed, including their fire breathing powers.
The following days showed a strange change among the Riders. None of them reacted whenever Vanir or Nidavel goaded Eragon and Murtagh. The other elves seemed mildly impressed. The Riders focused all of their energies in improving themselves and proving their detractors wrong.
What worried Roran was Eragon. His seizures became more and more frequent, and more often than not he shuffled like an old man. He seemed to withdraw from the others more often now – even from Arya.
During a exceptionally tiring day, Eragon was hit by his bouts of agony thrice while sparring with Vanir and twice while doing the Rimgar with Ash during their one on one tutoring sessions that day. As he uncurled from his position, Ash watched him passively. "Eragon, you must try harder to perfect your balance," she said softly. A quiet look of understanding passed her eyes as she took Eragon's hand, seemingly passing strength to him. "Do not give up."
"But I can't keep up with you, or my friends." Eragon took a shaky breath. "Don't waste your time with me. You can train my friends instead."
"You are only weak when you think you are. Do not abandon hope. Never. We are the Riders, standing between light and dark. We keep them balanced, and without us, Alagaesia shall fall. Ignorance, fear and hate are the enemies that we must fight and deny, else we will faill. Rise, Shadeslayer."
No one spoke until the Rimgar was finished, and Eragon cleaned up himself. The Rider approached Ash quietly. "Master," he began before hesitating.
The half-elf raised an eyebrow. "Hesitating from a question? That is unlike you," she noted.
"I just wanted to ask why we must endure this torture. You could use magic to give us all the strength and skills that we need, right? You can shape our body the way you work with the trees and plants."
"Well, yes, we could do that. But that would present even more work for you to learn more about the new body – and abilities that you have. And we cannot expend too much energy for five Riders. And there is still the matter of your back." Ash looked away. "There is no shortcut to the path that we are taking."
Eragon bowed his head. "I understand," he murmured before shuffling away.
I know you guys missed Carvahall. We'll be catching up with them next chapter!
And I just want to say hi to my new readers/reviewers, you're always welcome to share a cup of warm mint tea with me xD You can drop by anytime to read.
I'll be getting around to reading fics soon again, once I finish Skyrim's main quest and finish at least two more Wheel of Time books (I'm currently reading The Fires of Heaven, and I must say that I'm hooked! I love Aviendha, can't say the same about Nynaeve and Egwene though.)
Vanir's in for a world of hurt after the Agaeti Blodhren. Seriously. And Nidavel. I have stuff in store for him, especially when the war breaks out.
As for Roran declining Katrina's offer last chapter? He was still figuring out how to get started with getting to know her! XD Anyway, that's my excuse.
What misadventures await our young Riders? What's in store for Carvahall? Read and review, and I might start an "Ask the Dragons" segment next chapter! XD