A ray of sunlight tickled his nose and woke him from sleep. Ivren blinked, sluggish, raised a hand to block the light and with a yawn shook off the remnants of his dream – rough stone, cold, footsteps ever coming close, the call of doom – ah, he wanted to forget it. Ever since Eragon woke up and turned out to be fine, more than fine, the clock had been ticking. His last days with Oromis should be filled with happier memories.
As Ivren looked up, he saw Oromis watch him with a fond look in his eyes. His hand rested on Ivren's hip, slowly tracing the pattern of silvery scars. A soft smile was on his lips and he couldn't help but smile back.
For a long moment they simply stayed like this, hidden in Oromis' hut, nearly a dream itself. He tried to impress it onto his mind, the ink pots and brushes discarded on the table, scrolls of poetry and legends, the sweet smell of berries, and his lover.
After awhile Oromis broke the silence. "When Eragon returns to the Varden you will go with him." It was a simple statement but he heard the worry on Oromis' voice. They both knew they might not return. Ivren reached for his hand. "Indeed, I will leave once he is ready to go."
Ivren had never intended to stay and yet he never wanted to leave this dream.
"I have so much more to teach him, but no more time left. He is eager for battle, violence – just as is Saphira." Oromis trailed off.
"Stopping a dragon is rather impossibly hard." Ivren admitted, "But aren't you eager as well?" He watched his face with care. Oromis stayed silent, his eyes moving over Ivren's face. "Eager?" He sounded amused. "I cannot go into battle, yet."
"Yet." Ivren blinked slowly. "You are right, of course." He chuckled. "Still, you have been restless, my dear. Your people are preparing for war."
Oromis poured faelnirv into two chalices made of a ivory-like substance and offered Ivren one. He ran his fingers over the engraved flowers and vines. Ivren leant back, closed his eyes and enjoyed the caress of the sunlight. As he opened them again, Oromis was staring at him with an un-readable expression.
"Soon I will watch those I love about leave again while I stay behind, in safety and they in danger." His face turned wistful, suddenly a hundred years away, "I have no wish to be the lone survivor once more."
He startled. The frankness was – new. Oromis took great care in every word he said, or so Ivren thought, usually keeping his heart to himself. Bitterness rose. It should be touching, and it was, to be trusted so, to have his heart truly, but Ivren – he was such a lair, damning them both. Oromis knew nothing of his true capabilities, nothing of Nainar and the Eldunari waiting with him. It surely would reassure him a great deal. Oh, he was a such a lair, such a cruel man to doom Oromis so.
"You won't be. I'll keep him safe and myself too." Ivren promised. "And Arya, she'll stay here, won't she?"
"I do hope so. Firnen should grow further before he is revealed to the world."
Ivren agreed. "In another five months he should breathe fire. Still, I can't imagine they'll wait that long."
Oromis chuckled. "The impatience of youth. At least, Arya does know some of lessons already."
"I should check on Eragon." If he waited for much longer, leaving would become so much harder.
It wasn't surprising to see him with Arya, exchanging a private goodbye before the official farewell. His dwarven friend Orik was here as well. He'd take the longer way back to the Varden. Not a fan of flight, that one. Firnen and Saphira appeared to be deep into conversation as well. He let them finish before speaking to Eragon.
"We'll leave in an hour" he explained, "Be ready."
Ivren nodded. "Everything still fine?"
"Even better than before!" exclaimed Eragon.
A relief. Would have Eragon ever found any help if not for the dragon magic? Unlikely. Despite the good news, Ivren worried much. As Oromis had warned him, Galbatorix himself was supposed to appear. He wasn't arrogant enough to even dream about holding out against him in a fight. A mage of such age had to have great reserves and greater knowledge and the enslaved Shruikan was a weapon of destruction on his own.
How could he face such a being? Nainar would not let his kin be enslaved, he never doubted that, but for all other reasons, he would not come down. One time they had the advantage of surprise, only one time. Ivren would rather face a Shade. That at least was something he knew of. A shade or some Ra'zac, yes, those he could fight. But a dragonrider? Never a dragonrider.
Aurora hadn't neglected to teach him the finer arts of battle nor had Eous neglected to teach his son aerial combat, honed against many siblings and distant kin, but the usual dominance in the sky could become their very weakness. The scars too thick, the wings not mobile enough, they had a literal blind side – he could list endless reasons for their loss.
As he waited for them to get ready to leave, he could not help but think back to his conversation with Oromis. That same look, the same eyes he had seen on Aurora's face before. The sands of time had run through her fingers and left them unscathed while washing away all she cared about. Born as a human, now a fae grace was to her gait and an alien look to her face. Not quite here, not quite there, trapped in the in-between of two worlds. Just like Eragon. It scared humans. One day he might share those eyes.
In a way he was lucky. Those he could lose to time he had already lost, nothing more than long faded memories his mind troubled to cling to. Now his only worry was battle and forces of nature. Aurora, Eous, Steorra, Rauthren, now Oromis, Eragon, Saphira and Glaedr, all were untouched by time. Was he? He did not know. A slow change or no change at all? Thirty years for ever or a hundred drawn out over centuries? Ivren wasn't even sure what he wanted. Eternity was a pleasant dream until all that mattered was gone and in the end, you are nothing.
Ivren shook off his melancholic thoughts. No. Soon, he got to introduce Nainar to his friends and that was to be a joyous occasion. He checked his room once last time, left nothing behind and waited as Oromis gave Eragon gifts. That belt, such power . .
Oromis pulled him aside one last time, for a goodbye kiss that made Ivren's heart melt and then to his utter surprise, Oromis offered him a carved box of dark wood.
"I would like you to have this." Ivren slowly took and opened it. A necklace rested on black cloth, the form of a dragon wrought from amber encircled an opal, a gleaming white opal which shimmered in an intense green, blue and even pink. Here and there were shades of flames, dancing in the sunlight. His heart ached. "Oromis . . I -"
"You have no source of power beyond yourself. May this gem serve you well."
Ivren closed his eyes, overwhelmed. "I thank you." After a pause he admitted: "Although I do have some energy reserves."
"Your earrings." His eyes turned onto the aforementioned earrings. Both of them knew the energy in them wasn't much. The small stones could only hold so much power. "Greater reserves are always an advantage in combat." He hesitated. "I want you to be protected, Ivren. May I?"
At his nod Oromis clasped the necklace around his neck and stroked his cheek. Ivren leant into the touch. "I will miss you, deeply."
"And I, you. Farewell, until we meet again. May the Stars watch over you."