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A lengthy update! I've missed reaching the 8-page mark on my document.

Chapter 39: Tidings Both Good and Bad

It was an unusually warm day in Surda – and that was saying something, since most days in Surda were terribly warm. Not that it deterred Aesyr's education, of course. Though busy with his little project, Brom still took some time off to train her in swordsmanship, archery and a bit of magic. He claimed that it was more than her right to learn magic because Selena was apparently a talented human spellcaster.

That day, Brom left her to her own devices in his study, nose-deep in the books on the ancient language and history of Alagaesia. All in all, it was a dull and terribly hot day. She already used up so many of the handkerchiefs that Melikir gifted her with recently.

With a sigh, she closed Ruminations on the Ancient Language and took to staring out the window. Why was Brom so intent on loading her with things to do when her mind could barely keep up? She would rather head down to the training field and shoot some targets with her bow or her sling. Not that she was an amazing archer. She was decent enough, but it was a good way to clear her head… especially when words from the ancient language kept swimming to the surface of her thoughts.

Looking out the window, she had a good view of the castle courtyard, which had quite a lot of activity that day. Guards surrounded a cloaked figure on horseback, who clutched a big pack close to him. Servants were running around with important people – Melikir, King Orrin, Jormundur, and some other nobles. She noted with distaste the presence of the other members of the Council of Elders. She remembered what Eragon told her about them.

The figure waved them all away, gesturing to the castle door. Orrin was shouting something, looking both curious and nervous. The odd group slowly paraded into the castle.

Moments passed with Aesyr wondering what just happened.

With a creak, the door opened and Brom stepped in with a servant. The servant bowed to her and set down two heaping plates of food on the table before departing gracefully. Brom was bringing a two cups of hot tea with him, a gruff smile on his face. "I assume that you are hungry," he said.

"Starving," Aesyr corrected. Her eyes drifted to her plate, which was heaping with crispy roasted pork, sausages and potatoes. The last time she ate so many was during Melikir's seventeenth birthday. There was barely enough for the Varden to indulge. "What is this?"

Brom snorted. "You should know, child. Happy birthday."

Aesyr stared at him and blinked. Her brain raced, counting and tracking the days. How could she have spent most of her fifteenth birthday without realizing it? She rubbed her tired eyes and broke into a smile. "Thank you," she said.

The old man began to eat but his eyes were still trained on her. "Your brothers were like sons to me, and you are like a daughter to me, too. I regret not getting them anything for their birthdays – we were on the run." He paused. "Eat! I did not get these blasted good food for you to just stare! Eat."

"And I do thank you for everything, Master Brom." Aesyr took three deliberate bites. Brom wasn't lying when he said that the food was good. "I suppose this is not just about my birthday."

"The Varden has much to celebrate today, but we shall talk about it later." Brom took a big bite and handed a small package to his pupil proudly before proceeding to wolf down his food. "I suggest that you make haste. People might be sent to fetch us at any moment."

"Thank you," Aesyr said again, eating quickly. "I saw the commotion. What's going on?"

"A lot." Brom's face darkened. "It may be best not to talk about it for now."

Silence passed as the two finished their meal. As she wiped her hands clean, Aesyr fumbled with Brom's gift, revealing a pair of golden bangles shaped like birds in flight. One had eyes made of small milky diamonds, while the other one had diamond eyes as black as night. "They are lovely, but… Master, are they not too expensive?"

Brom grunted. "They are expensive, but like I said: you are like a daughter to me. And I expect my former pupils to receive gifts from me once they return from their training – also to make up for their recent birthdays that I missed."

Someone knocked on the other side of the door. With a commanding spell from Brom, it flew open to reveal Jarsha. He was at least two to three years younger than Aesyr, but they grew up as playmates and the girl was quite fond of him. "L-Lord Brom!" he stammered nervously. He smiled at Aesyr briefly. "Lord Melikir and King O-O-Orin asked me to fetch both of you!"

"Do you know why?" Aesyr asked, earning a long stare from Brom.

Jarsha shrugged. "I don't know… b-but Selena Nightblade is here."

Brom nodded. A mad – almost eager – glint lit up his dark eyes. "I assumed as much. Lead on then, lad."

Aesyr tried to speak, but her voice refused to came out. The last time she saw Selena was in Farthen Dur, and that felt like lifetimes away. She still had no idea what to think of when it comes to her mother. She followed Jarsha and Brom through corridor after corridor, passing by some whispering servants. A couple of girls barely older than her even pointed at them.

What exactly was going on?

Stumbling their way up a flight of stairs, Jarsha had to pause for breath. Then he sped off again, leaving Brom and Aesyr barely able to catch up. "What could be so important? And why include me?" the girl asked.

Brom didn't reply. They walked through another corridor and reached an ornately carved pair of mahogany doors. Jarsha bowed before slipping away. Without knocking, Brom threw the doors open, leading the way into the Council Hall. King Orrin was seated on a plain high-backed chair at the head of the long table. His stately clothing seemed a bit ruffled, as if he donned them on in a hurry. Goodness knew what he was doing before. To his right sat Melikir, neatly dressed in his simple tunic and vest as always. He smiled at the newcomers. Beside him sat Jormundur, probably representing the Council of Elders and also coming as Melikir's right-hand man.

To Orrin's left was Angela, Solembum napping on her lap. The odd woman's corkscrew curls were messier than usual that day. Beside her sat Selena, looking grim and exhausted. She still clutched her pack close to her.

"About time, Brom," Orrin said in the slightly slurred Surdan accent. He glanced at Selena. "I wonder, though, why you asked for the girl too."

Selena's gray eyes hardened. "She is my daughter, and I wished to see her. And perhaps… my news would interest her."

"Interest her, yes. But as you can see, only the people in Melikir's council – and I, of course – are here to listen to what you have to say… and the news you bring."

"Let her stay," Melikir interjected. "She is Selena's daughter and Brom's pupil. What harm could be done by here presence?"

"She will not spread the word unless you ask her to. I swear that on my very own honor," Brom said.

Orrin gave him a brief, flat stare. "Very well. Take your seats."

Aesyr found herself seated between her mother and her teacher. Selena gave her a warm, fleeting smile before turning back to the others. For a while, no one spoke. It was as if they were all gauging each other, except for Angela, who absentmindedly stroked Solembum's back and hummed to herself.

"Well now, what are we waiting for?" she finally said just when the tension seemed to come to a boil. "Selena gathered us all here because she brings news directly from that blasted king's men. Why do we not hear it out?"

As if that jolted everyone out of their reverie, Melikir nodded in agreement. Orrin may be the king of Surda, but in a meeting among the important members of the Varden, Melikir's position still had precedence. "Very well. What tidings do you bring?"

Selena straightened up, all signs of weariness gone from her face – replaced both by elation and fear. "I bring good and bad news, Lord Melikir, King Orrin. What would you like to hear first?"

"Now is not the time…" Orrin began, before Melikir silenced him with a look. The king looked outraged, but he relented.

The younger leader smiled. "We shall hear out the bad news first, then. I personally believe that good news sounds even better when it is delivered after worse tidings."

Selena nodded in understanding and took a deep breath. "It is confirmed. King Galbatorix managed to salvage dragon eggs during the Fall." She glanced at Brom before carrying on. "Why he kept them secret even to his Forsworn until now, I do not know. But he is intending to hatch the eggs and train new Riders – maybe to boost the depleting numbers of Riders that he has under his command. He may have felt threatened by our Riders. There were five eggs, and he tasked two Forsworn with transporting them somewhere when I left."

A ripple of fear completely dissipated the tension in the room. Even Orrin looked serious for a change. "This changes things," he said. "Against the king and six Forsworn, we could have stood a chance. Against them and more Riders? Improbable. Do you know where he wishes to bring them to?"

"Which may bring us to Selena's good news," Brom said with speculating eyes. "I assume that it has something to do with what you are holding close to you?"

"Three were handed to Enduriel, and I am sure that he will bring them to his lair at Helgrind – maybe with the new Ra'zac that were hatched in Dras Leona." That was met with as much fear as Selena's initial statement. She paused, as if letting them digest it. She set the pack on the table and pulled out two smooth, flawless stones of roughly equal size, both foot-long ovals. "Two were given to Morzan."

Everyone fell into a reverent hush. Aesyr moved a little closer to peer at the the odd objects. One was pure white, with darker cream veins webbing it. The other was as black as night, also with white veisn webbing it, but the two colors melded seamlessly, as if made from the same material.

"Dragon eggs," Melikir breathed. "How… but…"

"Unlike his peers who would grovel at Galbatorix's lap and jump at any opportunity to run errands for him, Morzan is a proud man," Selena said. Her lips twitched, as if she meant to say more before stopping herself. "He would not be resigned to running errands, even for Galbatorix himself. He sent some of his men to do the transportation for him. Interecpting them under Dras Leona was no easy feat."

"You… what?" Orrin's eyes widened.

Jormundur regarded the eggs. "Three left with Galbatorix. Seven Riders and three potential ones. We have six… and two more if we are lucky. We are starting to get more and more outnumbered, are we not?" he said grimly.

"Aye, fate is never fair," Melikir nodded. "But why did you not want to let Orrin's advisors share this knowledge, when you let mine join us today?"

"Host I may be to your people, this is a matter for the Varden, not Surda." Orrin looked most displeased as he spoke. "And I do not wish for my men to meddle in the affairs of the Varden, especially as not all of them are wholly sympathetic to our cause."

Angela spoke up. "So what do you wish to do with these eggs?"

Wispy clouds partially concealed the moon when Garrow rose from the tent he shared with Horst's sons and joined Sloan on the watch. The two men nodded to each other before taking up their posts. The butcher was busy counting his goose-feather arrows, idly planting three within easy reach. He was not exactly a good archer, but Garrow and Albreich have been teaching him. The man can't just rely on his bow all the time.

As he was now used to doing, Garrow surveyed the landscape before him, ready to take action at the slightest movement or the smallest hint of light that could betray an enemy's presence. His mind wandered idly as he did so, and that night, his thoughts turned to his long lost sister.

Silence reigned around him as he expertly watched over the area while also fretting over Selena's well-being. A simple breath of wind caressed his face, and his skin tingled. He stiffened, drawing his bow as he sensed something that could only be described as vile. Fear crossed his mind – danger was near. Two massive shadows detached themselves from the horizon, like pieces of the sky tearing off from the main part. Even in the darkness, the light of the moon was enough to make the unmistakable dragon scales sparkle red and yellow.

The red one opened its gaping maw and let out a massive roar. Even from the distance, Garrow felt its intensity and staggered back. The sight chilled him. That red creature was definitely not Murtagh's dragon – and that only left one possibility. Everyone knew the tales of an infamous red Rider.

"Morzan," Sloan breathed nearby. "Gods above."

Fire burned off the ice in Garrow's blood as he felt fear take hold of him. The roar woke the forest, causing birds and beasts to panic, yammer, and flee. That included the villagers' herds. Garrow let out a curse as he stumbled back to the camp with Sloan right behind him. "Two of the Forsworn are here," he said in a whisper. "Stay still. Stay silent." He heard Sloan and the other sentries repeat the same message to other villagers.

Fisk rolled out of his tent, spear in hand. As he rose to his feet, he let out a roar. "Are we under attack? What set off…" Garrow tackled him to the ground, a hand to his mouth.

"Be quiet! The Forsworn are here."

Fisk went limp. "What now?"

"We need to calm the animals," Sloan said above them. "They're causing a racket."

One by one, the men began to soothe the animals. Villagers who caught on to what they were doing also rushed out to help. In the middle of pacifying some sheep, Garrow looked up to the sky, where the massive shadows were still lit up by the moon that they were obscuring. They began to move to their hiding place.

Garrow heard of the way Riders – and dragons – could read minds. If they came closer, everyone will be caught.

A donkey began to bray, and Garrow shot it without hesitating. The animal dropped dead with a muffled thump. The stupid animal already alerted the dragons, though. One of them faced the clearing and seemed to regard it curiously.

It was a nightmare come true.

Garrow nocked an arrow, and Sloan imitated him. Fisk hefted his spear, as if ready to throw it to any monster that was in range. Before any of them could do anything though, a herd of deer began to stampede toward them, ignoring villagers, tents and livestock in their terror. There must have been dozens – maybe even hundreds – of them, and some of them were close enough for Garrow to clearly see their fear.

The herd must have hidden the villagers from view because after another contemptuous look, the dragon swung to the south, followed by its yellow companion.

All was still again.

"Lucky, lucky," Sloan commented as the villagers congregated. Some shot him angry looks. "We can't always count on the random wildlife to cover our tracks."

"He's right," Garrow said. "Our luck simply can't hold forever. We need to move fast."

The good thing about what happened was that most villagers were eager to be off, and none showed any objections to the barges anymore. Some of those who staunchly opposed him were even asking if they can leave immediately.

By morning, Garrow, Horst, Sloan and some other men from the village skipped their breakfast, departing early for Narda. Though Garrow's presence risked their mission, it was too important for him not to come. He was sure that he looked far from the image on the poster, though. No one would think that he was the man that roused an entire village to defy the Empire.

A different pair of guards stood by the gate, and it was far easier to get inside. They immediately rushed to the docks, where they met with Clovis and handed over the two hundred crowns that they promised. They also discussed the seven seamen that agreed to join them on their voyage, and Clovis' demands for four more, and nine guards to get three eachper boat.

After a bit more conversation, Garrow and his companions loaded the supplies from the warehouse they were stored in, to the sheds in the barges. Clovis managed to note that most of their supplies did not contain feed, which Garrow shrugged off with a few abrupt words.

Their day was not over when they departed the docks late in the afternoon. They went on to assist all the other villagers in order for all of them to be well-prepared for the voyage. It wasn't that hard, since everyone grew used to breaking camp swiftly and methodically. He picked twelve good fighters to come with him to Narda the next day, leaving the best fighters to protect the village in case of attack.

The two groups parted by nightfall. Garrow rested on a boulder, watching Horst and even a grouchy Sloan herd the villagers through the foothills and to the cover where they will await the barges early the next day.

Orval strode toward him, arms crossed. He seemed so anxious, he might break at any moment. "Will they be safe, Deftblade?" Everyone swiftly took up the name that Garrow received from Horst.

Who wouldn't be worried? Garrow rubbed his eyes. "Yes. You know what? I'd wager a barrel of cider that they'll be sleeping when we put ashore tomorrow. You can even wake up Nolla. How does that sound to you?"

Orval smiled at the mention of his wife. How easy reassuring the men was, even though the words sounded empty in Garrow's ears. "Whatever you say, I know to be true."

Garrow sincerely hoped that their trust in him did not get them all killed.

Every man was up and about an hour before sunrise, the thin fingers of the rising sun's rays breaking slowly through the horizon. With a splash of water to awaken him, Garrow armed himself with his bow and arrows, his ax, a shield made by Fisk and a spear crafted by Horst. The others armed themselves too, some hefting swords salvaged during the fights in Carvahall.

"Thirteen," Darmmen said a little glumly. "I hope this does not bring us bad luck."

"It won't," Larne snapped. "Have you no trust in Deftblade?"

"I do, but it is hard not to be afraid."

"You should be," Garrow said. "No man in his proper mind would not feel fear when so many things ride upon his shoulders."

Grouping themselves in twos and threes, the men entered Narda with their own stories. Garrow was last, accompanied by Mandel. "Let me guess," a guard slurred. He smelled of stale mead. "Mercenaries. Get in, though I'm not sure you'd still find jobs." He let out a breathy giggle before tottering a little to the left.

Thanking the powers that be that the guards that day were none too sharp – and most probably drunk – Garrow slipped into Narda, followed by a pale Mandel. He took the boy aside. "Our village, our families rely on us. Avoid acting suspicious. The lives of everyone is in our hands. No matter what, those barges must be launched. Understand?"

Mendel nodded. He was little more than a boy – just a handful of months older than Garrow's sons. A look of grim determination filled his face. "Aye, Deftblade."

Tense, Garrow plowed through Narda, his eyes unusually bright and alert for any sign of trouble. He was afraid of doing something he might regret, but still kept an eye on every man, woman, child and animal that he spotted. It felt like all of them presented threats. They met the other men at the edge of the docks.

"Ready?" Garrow asked.

The men nodded, and they all set off for the barges.

Aesyr was ready for bed. She was tired from all the goings-on of the day, even if her mind still turned from the thoughts of those dragon eggs. She barely managed to stumble into her room – in the castle, since everyone thought that she was very important because she was Brom's pupil. Remembering the exercises she was tasked with, she waved her hand, murmuring "Brisingr" to light up the candles.

She barely settled down to start reading another book on the ancient language when the door flew open and Brom stormed in. No, not exactly stormed in. The former Rider looked marginally happier than he usually did. "I finally got those blockheads to see what I meant," he said with glee. "Though why I must resort to Angela's language, I know not."

"See what you meant?" After revealing the dragon eggs, Selena and Aesyr departed the room for a walk around the castle, leaving the leaders to argue about what to do with them. She had no idea what transpired afterward, since she and Selena did not part until well after dinner.

Brom did not invite himself. He sat on the lone chair in the room, drumming his fingers on the desk by the windowsill. "The elves are probably not pleased that five of the six new Riders are humans. As a show of respect for the Varden, we shall let them be the first ones to test the dragon eggs to see if they will hatch."

"So you're sending the eggs over to them? But Lord Faolin is in Ellesmera too."

"Well, of course that would normally complicate things. As a human who is always welcome in the elven lands…" Brom twisted the gold and sapphire ring on his finger anxiously. "I will act as the dragon egg courier and human ambassador to the elves for now. Think of it as Faolin's human counterpart. I shall deliver the eggs to Ellesmera."

Of course, Aesyr would miss her teacher, but that also meant that she would have her time off, unless Brom loaded her wih so much tasks that she still would be knee-deep in them until he returned. "So I'm free till then?"

A snort escaped Brom. "Of course not! I'd rather not delay your education. You are coming with me."

"Will the elves allow it?"

"I can't always be the ambassador, not when there are so many things to do. Take this as part of your training." The former Rider rose to his feet with a light of excitement in his eyes. "Pack up – we're travelling lightly but completely. Two or three changes of clothes and some other essentials are your priority. Bring your bow and arrows, maybe a dagger or a sword. We leave at sunrise."

This was at least 2 days later than usual. Sorry for that. Hope the length and the new content are enough to make up for it. Aesyr is difficult to flesh out, but I hope I get the chance in later chapters. And I hope the randomly contrived coincidences did not put you off.

Who do you think are the next Riders?

Read and review, as always!

Ask the Dragons is ongoing! Whenever I receive questions for them, the answers will be posted here! Anyway, Luneria and Askanir are here to answer questions posted in a review for the previous chapter!

Q: I'd ask Asknair this: how does it feel to be a purple dragon like Spyro? You should feel really honoured to have his colour!

Askanir: I know not who this Spyro is, but I must tell you one thing! I am quite proud of my color! Violet - or purple, as you put it, my good two-legs - is the color of kings! I am sure that you've heard of Alagaesia's kings all having violet eyes! I am not sure I should be telling that to the partner-of-my-mind-and-heart... Roran has so much to think of right now.

Q: Luneria: in terms character, asides from Katrina, who do you most admire?

Luneria: I did not have much chance to know many two-legs until I reached Farthen Dur, but I do believe that I admire Garrow. It takes more than just strength and power to raise three two-legs, especially those male Riders! They must be quite a handful.