Disclaimer: Everyone knows it.
A quick update! Again! I wanted to get rid of this chapter as fast as I can, since it didn't really blend well with the rest of what I managed to type already. And maybe because I'll be busy rewatching The Legend of Korra and wait for the new book to air here in the middle of nowhere. Erk.
Chapter 48: Blue Against White
Since the last night of the Agaeti Blodhren, sleep had been a strange experience for Eragon. He was always on that brink between deep sleep and awareness, so he still dreamed but still had a slight sense of what happened around him. Weary thoughts wrapped around him, wondering how Arya was faring now that her brother was on his way to Surda. He wanted to offer the right words to ease her worry but he did not know what.
Do not bother yourself with what you cannot do, Saphira scolded sleepily. Focus on what you can do.
"There are so many things that I can do now," Eragon mumbled. "But the things I want to do still elude me."
Downing the breakfast laid out at the foot of his bed, Eragon shuffled to the wash closet, mumbling about the fact that the changes in his body did not get rid of the ability to grow a beard. Throwing on random clothing, he left his tree-house, Saphira taking flight above him. Murtagh and Roran were waiting in the clearing, both looking uncomfortable with their new appearances.
"Eragon, late as always," Roran scolded.
Murtagh grinned. "What's new? Come now, brother. The others already headed for the sparring field. What we're supposed to do there with Nidavel missing and Vanir training under Brom, I have no idea."
"Maybe they want to see our new skills," Eragon said with a smile. He touched Kylskada's hilt excitedly. "I wouldn't mind testing my abilities, though."
Roran made a face. "I don't exactly want to make a fool out of myself in front of the elves."
"Does it look like we will be making fools of ourselves?"
"It very well may be."
Murtagh shook his head. "Ah, do not think like that. That line of thinking brings bad luck."
Together, the three of them headed for the sparring field, chatting idly about different things. Eragon still felt awed by the heightened awareness that he was experiencing. He could hear and sense the creatures scurrying around the forest, and the elves flitting about. Even spotting holes and rocks on the ground were easier now, and avoiding them – and tripping – was not a difficult feat anymore.
Orik was waiting with the four female Riders and their dragons. He had a smile on his face as he greeted the Riders. "Ah, there you are!" he said with a smile. "We have been wondering where you might have gotten yourselves into."
"Trouble, I suppose," Nasuada said with a warm smile.
"Well, that's nothing more than what we would expect," Katrina told her, causing Arya and Aesyr to burst into snickers.
"Where's Brom?" Murtagh demanded.
Orik gestured a little to the left, where Brom was talking to Randarion, Mindeth, Aviana, and Elmyra. They seemed busy in their discussions. "They've been going on in there since I've laid my eyes on them. Was trying to get in a bit of ax work with an elf. Fool tried to crack me over the head. I'd rather watch and see if you will fight."
"No, that's not fair," Roran complained. "You've already seen us fight. Many times."
"Well, not for a while."
Katrina waved her hand. "Why don't you just tell us straight that you want to see the effects of our changes? And our training, of course."
At that exact moment, Vanir strode into the field, his white blade gleaming. There was a dangerous gleam in his dark eyes. Brom broke free from his conversation and strode toward the Riders. "Ah, good. You are all here," he said, grumpy as ever. "Been expecting you hours ago, in fact. I am relieving Randarion and his lady friends here of their tasks for today. They do need to find more sparring partners for you since we seem to be running out of them." He gave Vanir what seemed to be a pointed look.
"So what will we be doing?" Eragon asked nervously.
Brom smiled. "Please choose a partner. I want to see your skills against each other."
Eragon approached Murtagh, but Vanir reached him first. His condescending air may have considerably lessend since their last duel, but still it was something that grated the blue Rider. Vanir eyed him coolly. "Are you ready, Shadeslayer?"
"I'm ready."
Moving to the middle of the field, the two Riders circled each other, eyeing their partner with calculating eyes. Eragon drew Kylskada, amazed by its lightness. It weighed no more than a particularly thick stick, and his arm snapped straight, accidentally releasing the sword – which whirled twenty yards to his right, buried in the trunk of a massive pine tree.
"If you cannot even hold on to your blade, then how are you going to strive in besting me?" Vanir muttered.
Eragon narrowed his eyes. Rubbing his elbow, he murmured a half-hearted apology. He misjudged his new strength. Vanir gripped the embedded sword's hilt, trying to pull the sword free. Frowning, he glared at the sapphire-hued blade as if wondering what kind of trick his opponent was up to. Grasping the hilt with two hands, he heaved backward and yanked Kylskada out of the tree – after groaning and staggering in the effort.
Accepting the sword from the sullen elf, Eragon hefted his weapon, thinking about the changes in his strength. It was different… too different. You have simply grown, Saphira offered.
Vanir initiated the fight, thrusting his blade toward Eragon's shoulder. Eragon was startled by the fact that the elf seemed to be moving slower than usual – or maybe Eragon was catching on faster. It was like Vanir's perfect reflexes were brought down to that of a normal human's. Blue and white sparks flew from the blades as they met, Eragon deflecting his opponent's blow easily. With a forward thrust, Eragon threw Vanir backward.
The elf landed on his backside, eyes wide in astonishment. As quick as a well-trained man, he rose to his feet and slashed forward. Eragon didn't even need his sword to deflect that – he simply bent back. The next blows from the elf were also easily parried, sometimes with the help of Kylskada's bright sheath.
With a feral grin, Eragon realized the full extent of the spectral dragon's gifts. He was as strong and fast as the most physically fit elf. And he was going to use all of that to his advantage. He jumped as high as he could, his sword flashing like an icicle as he flipped above Vanir, landing right behind the startled elf. Laughing with the knowledge that he was not weak and helpless without Saphira by his side, he charged Vanir.
Blow against blow, they exchanged their best attacks, parrying and striking in harmony. Neither noticed that all the other duels in the field stopped to watch their furious swordplay. Even with his newfound gifts, Eragon knew that Vanir was still formidable. A young elf's strength and speed was unmatched. Gritting his teeth, Eragon managed to strike his foe on the upper arm, breaking the bone.
A hushed silence fell.
Vanir stared at him, pale face showing shock and fury. His eyes seemed to flash, and Eragon felt a strong probe strike his mind. Building up his defenses, he fought back, keeping his mental armor up while trying to gain advantage against the attack. A few seconds of silent struggle ensued, before Vanir's probe and defenses crumbled.
Eragon knew that he could have crushed the elf's thoughts with just a small tendril of probing. He knew that he would easily overpower Vanir, do some harm. The temptation felt so strong, so sweet. He wanted the elf to know how much pain he had been through, physically and emotionally. The fury in Vanir's eyes was replaced by pure fear.
Eragon almost crumbled to pieces.
He could not succumb to anger or rage, no matter what the reason. He was a Rider, not a bloodthirsty madman. No matter how nasty Vanir was to him, he did not want harm to befall him – nor anyone else, if possible.
Holding out his hand, he helped the elf rise to his feet. Vanir did something unexpected as he regained his composure. He twisted his uninjured hand in a gesture of fealty and bowed. "Forgive me for my earlier behavior, Eragon-elda. I thought you and your friends consigned my race to the void. I shamed myself and my peers because of fear. And envy, I suppose." Grudgingly, Vanir smiled. "I guess you have proven me wrong in my assumptions. You are worty of the title Rider. More worthy than me."
Eragon bowed back slightly. He still could not comprehend half of what was going on. "You honor me. I'm also sorry. For injuring you. Please allow me to heal your arm."
Vanir's smile turned genuinely friendly. "I would rather let nature tend to it at her own pace. You know, as a memento that I crossed blades with a greater Rider – a Shadeslayer. But I suppose Master Brom would not like that."
"I think so too," Eragon said, reflecting the elf's smile. "And that old man can get grumpy at times."
Apparently having an elf's strength, speed, and stamina did not prevent weariness from seeping into one's body. Roran wanted nothing more than a good rest, but their day was just starting. Soaring toward the Crags of Tel'nair, Askanir praised him for besting Murtagh.
It wasn't that I was better, Roran argued. It's just that… I felt stronger. I don't know how to describe it. I didn't really mean to crack his wrist.
You misjudged your strength, you say, Askanir said disbelievingly.
They landed right before the elder Riders' hut. Diamanda and Sardonis staggered with the weight of their Riders, while Brom swiftly leapt off Thorn's back. Oromis and his daughters waited for them, watching their pupils passively. Brom joined them as they rose to their feet. They withdrew, talking quietly to each other while the other Riders dismounted from their dragons.
Roran shuffled uneasily. The distance their masters put was enough for their enhanced hearing to hear nothing more than vague whispers. They must be discussing us.
What a clever deduction, Askanir noted. Of course they are discussing you. The things that happened during the Blood-Oath Celebration were quite unique.
A moment of silence passed. Solaris impatiently swished her tail around, almost crushing a patch of bluebells before realizing what she was doing. Soon, Serylda approached them with a smile. "So, I have heard of your improvements," she said. "Not just because of your transformation, but because of your daily sparring with the elves of Ellesmera… and the tricks that I have taught you, of course. These changes wrought upon you… they are quite unique. No such thing has ever been heard of before."
"The dragons are indeed capable of doing things that are beyond our imagination. Though of course you should already know that." Ash joined her sister with a smug grin. She regarded the Riders. "I believe that even you, Arya, and you, Vanir, have been given gifts, though far more subtle than your human peers. After all, you were touched too, were you not?"
"I believe so, Master," Arya said doubtfully. "I do not feel any different."
That's another person who loves to state what is clearly evident, Askanir noted.
Hush, Roran scolded. We have time to banter later.
Ash smiled. "So, what do you think about these changes? Are you resenting them? You do know that you did not permit them – nor were you asked."
"We've talked about that," Roran said, taking charge as usual. "It's not really something to be upset over, isn't it? We could have thought otherwise before, but now we are just grateful. Just seeing one of my brothers healed, and all of us not being helpless anymore is exhilarating."
"Wisdom, is it?" Brom said, finally joining them with Oromis beside him. He smiled wryly. "Vanir, Aesyr, come with me. Don't expect me to lessen your work just because of your new gifts. That just means that you will be working extra hard."
With a groan, the two newer Riders followed Brom to the opposite side of the clearing. Ash smiled. "The same goes for you," she said. "Come, let us do the Rimgar."
"My dear dragons," Oromis said. "Would you please stay here before you meet Glaedr, Brand, and Aegar? I wish to discuss something with you."
"Come on," Serylda said, herding the remaining Riders. "I want to do the Rimgar today too."
Just a few minutes into the third level of Rimgar, Roran realized that balance and flexibility wasn't something elves were born with. That was good to know, though. Without limitations, there would be nothing left to strive for and accomplish.
Lessons were as difficult as ever, though Roran did not feel like an incompetent fool anymore. Swordplay practice and fighting lessons with Serylda were fun, especially when he found out that the strength he possessed was rare even among elves. He bested Serylda twice through sheer strength, though she kept reminding him that he also needed to use his brain in conjunction to his brawn.
He still spent his nights roaming Ellesmera with his friends, and sometimes only with Katrina. He also pored over the numerous scrolls and books that Oromis lent him. He should have been content. Everything was going so well in his studies, and everyone – even Vanir, surprisingly – were getting along well. But something kept nibbling at the edges of his mind.
The dreams did not help.
He kept dreaming of war, of chaos – armies preparing for battle all around Alagaesia, six huge dragons arrayed in gleaming black armor, and seven hooded figures, one of them barely the size of an adult.
Askanir was aware of what he was going through. The world is close to snapping, he noted. It is what dragons and elves feel – fate. An age is about to end. Chaos will ensue soon, and many will die to bring this new age to life – whether for better or for worse. I hope that we are enough. Enough to usher a brighter future.
I am afraid, Roran said with a shudder.
The day came that the Riders learned to fully open their minds in their own clearings, being conscious of everything at a certain level, all at once. He felt himself become something like a blank being, at one with all the creatures of the forest, and even the plants.
It took a while for Roran to understand it, but from what he heard once he reported back to Ash, Eragon learned to fastest. It seemed like his mind has truly become his weapon.
They still spent portions of the day in individual lessons with Ash and Serylda, spending the rest of their day learning gramarye, history, culture, and logic with Oromis. There was so much to learn, and so little time. Roran learned how to energy from his surroundings to fuel his magic, learned how to control it after accidentally killing some creatures.
Such a terrible price to pay for power.
A day of discussion with Oromis revealed that elves truly did not have a religeon. They did not believe in gods, something which Arya seemed to dislike. Another discussion with Ash also revealed that she desperately wanted proof that gods did, in fact, exist, and that there had to be something that created the world and influenced some events.
Once again, days and weeks blended together, and the amount of time passing truly became difficult again. Ellesmera never changed. So did its inhabitants. But no semblance of peace found its way to Roran, no matter how quiet the forest was.
Roran was eager to do something, anything to get rid of the nagging feeling at the back of his mind. He wished he knew what to do.
I can smell war coming, and our Riders are going to charge into a battle soon.
Yup, I had a random idea about Helen, especially since Katrina isn't going to get pregnant anytime soon. Anyway, Roran's premonitions are current Alagaesian events, unlike Eragon who always dreams of the past.
The Riders are about to leave Ellesmera soon with Brom and Orik. "Parting is such sweet sorrow" , as Shakespeare said in Romeo and Juliet, but a whole new adventure is about to open up to our team! And of course, parting gifts. Meheheh.
Anyway, I need to go and watch The Legend of Korra now. Read and review, as always!