Is it time to fight, Eragon? asked Saphira, an odd note of formality in her voice.
He knew what she meant: Was it time to challenge the Empire headone, time to kill and rampage to the limit of their considerable abilities, time to unleash every ounce of their
rage until Galbatorix lay dead before them? Was it time to commit themselves to a campaign that could take decades to resolve?
It is time.
Kendra stared at the wall of her tent, listening to Nyx gnaw on a bone nearby. She twisted her fingers around the thin gold chain and sighed. "Do you think he's coming back any
time soon? He said they had a meeting, but it's been over an hour now."
Growling slightly, Nyx blinked up at her.
"You're helpful," she muttered. Moving to stand, she tucked the chain into her shirt and moved to her table. Tapping her fingers against the wood, she surveyed the plans again and
sighed at the numbers. "I don't want to see how this ends."
"Badly most likely," Rowan said, striding into the room with Trevin and Delaney in tow. "But you knew that already."
She sighed, looking over at the three of them. "Did you hear from Mark yet?"
"No, they'll likely be at it all night. I don't know what they're blathering on about in there." Trevin muttered, folding his arms.
"Supplies, troops… you know… what we don't have to worry about as much. It's more difficult to keep an army than it is to keep us," said Kendra.
"Could at least be courteous, since we hurried to follow them and their army's march halfway across the damn country – not enough for you to finish routing the Black Hand, but
catch up so you can fight our war too."
"Trevin, we've gone over this. If we aren't here when this battle starts, we're all going to die."
He scoffed, "Chess pieces. Yeah, I know. Just make sure you don't go getting yourself killed, eh?"
"You know I won't let that happen." She rolled her eyes as he threw his hands in the air and walked out of her tent with Del.
Rowan watched her evenly for a moment before shrugging. "If you do die, make sure you at least take a few of them with you… or it's for a good reason. I didn't drag myself all the
way out here just to watch you get shot because you weren't watching your back."
"Worry about yourself and the others, leave me to me. Now go, try and get some rest, we've been traveling for days; it's about time we relaxed. Remember you're an assassin, not
a soldier."
"Relax. Yeah, like a battlefield is the place to relax," he muttered, walking out.
Kendra picked up a piece on the table and rolled it in her hand. She glanced to her sword on her hip and placed her palm on it as she felt Mark approaching with someone she didn't
recognize. At her tensing, Nyx jumped to his feet and growled at the door to the tent.
"Kendra?" Mark called, hearing the wolf.
"You can come in," she said. "Nyx settle down."
Pushing into the tent, Mark glanced at the wolf, then up at her, "I want to introduce you to someone."
From behind him stepped a dark haired woman with pointed features. She started, caught off guard at the sight of the elf. The woman was dressed for battle with a sword at her
waist.
"This is Arya. She arrived from Ellesméra and will be staying with us. Arya, this is Kendra."
The elf observed her critically for a moment. An irrational surge of anger bubbled in her for a moment before the woman spoke. "You are… the daughter of Galbatorix."
"I am."
"Marcus has told me much about you, and I am pleased to put a face to the name he has spoken so highly of."
She glanced at Mark and then back at Arya, "You seem quite calm."
"Your bloodline is of no concern to me. I care not where you came from, only that you are able to benefit our cause. The mention of your father's name caused your heart to beat
faster, as though readying for a fight. You are not my enemy, Kendra."
"We have important plans to discuss with you. I have told Arya of the new Riders that Galbatorix has under his control, and she is prepared to help us fight them. You are probably
one of the strongest people we have here, and we'll need your help."
She scoffed, "I am much less proficient in magic than you think I am."
"That is a lie, you are more proficient than most. Every member of Du Vrangr Gata is scared of you. I have had to promise them that you are not a threat; they all felt you arrive
and nearly attacked that moment."
"They're quite the sad bunch, aren't they?"
Mark shook his head. "They have had no formal training, unlike you and me," he insisted. "Between the three of us I believe there is a good chance that we will be able to keep
Eragon and Saphira safe, if they arrive before the battle starts."
At the mention of the Rider she scowled, "I have no desire to protect your Dragon Rider."
"He's going to be our best chance at winning this fight. Without him you likely will not see your father fall from his throne."
"I don't want to waste my time guarding him. I understand that he is your friend Mark, but I can't."
"Because he's a Rider."
"Yes."
"You acknowledge however that he is our best chance?"
"Yes," she said. "He is a Dragon Rider… Mark, if he were anything but, I would help in a heartbeat. My sister… my father… all of his Forsworn… I've seen enough death come from
the Riders' existence. I can't help save him, not when I want them gone so desperately."
Arya narrowed her eyes at her. "Your sister and your friend, Murtagh, will likely both be on the battlefield. As the person that likely knows them both better than any, you would be
beneficial in being able to defeat them whether that means their death may rely upon you."
Kendra blinked. "…what are you saying?"
"They are our enemy and as such will need to be defeated in order for us to succeed. If you do not wish to guard Eragon, then I do not ask you to, you will be of no benefit in that
position. However, you would do well to join Marcus during the fight if you wish to save your friend and your sister's life."
"Mark…"
"The likelihood of Murtagh doing this of his own accord is slim… he's likely taken an oath to bind himself to the king. And my sister is the same. She would not volunteer for the
Empire. It is my hope that we can convince them to stop, at the very least, retreat from this fight."
"You would risk that?"
"I would risk an entire country for my sister, Kendra." Arya glanced at him, but said nothing at his comment. "And I know you would do the same for your sister and Murtagh."
She glared across the room at him, "They are both Dragon Riders… it would be best for me to kill them on sight. Your sister, too. Especially, now that they are all working for the
Empire."
"It's through no fault of their own they are Riders, Kendra. Think over your decision, you have some time. But I would be very grateful to have you by my side during this battle."
He nodded, "Come find me once you've made up your mind. Arya?" She turned and walked from the tent with one last look at Kendra, Mark following in her wake.
She threw the piece back onto the table and huffed, flopping back into her bed, mulling over the thought of killing her sister. Nyx jumped up next to her in the bed and set his head
on her chest. She winced and pushed him off, pulling at the chain around her throat. A red dragon scale slid from the hem of her tunic, hanging on the gold necklace. Clutching it,
she ran her fingers through her hair and closed her eyes.
That's what Eragon thought, floating between the clouds on the back of his magnificent dragon lady. Silent contentment spread inside his chest as the land unfolds beneath him.
Behind them only a few leagues of fertile plains separated them from the shores
of the river where the Talítha currently anchored, ahead a landscape sprawled which was
dominated by the peaks of various chains of mountains. The mountains there were mostly higher than those of the Spine, but by far not as gigantic as the Beors. A dragon could
easily fly over or around the snowcovered peaks.
"And look at these valleys", whispered Eragon though the connection of their minds.
Saphira knew what he meant. Between the mountain chains lay valleys of every size and shape, more multifaceted as the flowers in a summer's lawn: Narrow and broad, some
timbered, some completely filled by massive lakes, others made out of canyons of slate and sandstone.
"There is enough space here for flocks of dragons – for thunders of dragons!", she added amused, "Enough caves for breeding and enough game to hunt."
"It's easy to defend against every enemy, unless he travels high above the skies on dragon wings. It's a tad as I felt long ago in Ellesméra. At the same time inside and outside. Who needs a fortress or protective charms when you are surrounded by mountains higher than every wall in this world?"
"How very right you are, my little one. These peaks keep us our enemies at bay and our protégées within our grasp. At least in a curtain way."
Eragon nodded. It would be important in the beginning to have the young and wild dragons bound to an area; and they wouldn't leave their valleys for the time being when they
were surrounded merely by plain… plains.
"Let's head back to the ship, Saphira. I want to talk to Blödhgarm and the others and hear their opinions. But I don't think we could find something that would better fit our demands
than this."
With these words the dragon lady turned her tail on the impressing landscape, all shimmering and sparkling in the light of the morning sun, and made her way back to the
congregation of dragons and elves which were now their family – or would soon be.
With Saphira's support Eragon and the elves were able to build up a provisory encampment as well as ferrying all of their belongings and other equipment into the valley within the
next two weeks. For now the camp merely counted a few tents and a rapidly build up wooden hut which, reinforced with several protective spells, was used as a temporary storage
room for the Eldunarí and dragon eggs.
See here, Eragon thought wryly, the glorious beginning of the home of the next generation of Dragon Riders.
The strains of the last weeks had sobered him increasingly. It had been clear to him from the very beginning that the erection of an actual city would take the better part of a
decade – if not longer – but only for a few days now he was aware of the difficulty of his quest. Every day he was exposed to a myriad of obstacles he had to wring out of his way,
to a thousand questions and parameters to consider.
How large shall the new city get in the end? Is there enough space for that in the chosen valley? Should they begin with the works in a central spot so that the city would be allowed
to spread in every direction or at the end of the valley, close to the mountains? What was best to begin with and how to order the different establishment he imagined?
This and other questions forced him to look farther into the future as he felt at ease with. And he wanted to make the right decisions – it would be… uncomfortable if they had to
rebuild their home again and again because this and that wasn't fitting at all.
I wish Arya was here, a thought passed through his mind, Or Nasuada, or even Murtagh. I wish anybody was here. They would know what to do.
But deep inside he knew that he was just as able to cope with the situation as they were and that this wishes were just an expression of his longing and the desire to escape the
loneliness that threatened to build up inside him more and more.
Driven by this feelings he decided to contact Nasuada this very evening, the only one of his closest friend he was able to reach for the moment.
Again his duties absorbed him far longer than he anticipated; it was late in the evening when he was able to give in to his wishes. Now he knelt on his cot eyeing the small round mirror he had placed on the cushion in front of him in a way which allowed Saphira, who had stuck her head through the flap of the tent, to see into it, too.
Eragon took a last deep breath, then he cast the spell to connect him with the mirror in Nasuada's study. The surface waved for a moment, as being rather fluid than glass, before
the picture of a large desk appeared. On this desk there was a vase with lilac flowers, behind it a chair made of a cedar's wood; the rest of the room was filled by a gigantic book
shelf. He examined the familiar perspective for a while, then he heard fast footsteps quickly coming closer. Only fractions of a second later Nasuada appeared, coming to a stop in
front of her desk, her eyes shining.
"Eragon."
"Nasuada", replied Eragon and felt a smile graze his features, "Be greeted." He touched his lips with the tips of two fingers.
"I have already been waiting for news from you and your companions. Where are you? As I see you have steady ground underneath your feet again."
"In deed. We followed the river's course for close to three weeks until we found suitable lands. The river flows more or less straight east and most of the time we have been sailing
through flat and empty plains which don't have the preconditions we require, nor did they attract me in any way. But two weeks ago we discovered…"
And so he told her of the mountains and valleys, the forests and lakes they found and of their hitherto progress in building a camp. After asking some quite impersonal questions
about his other plans and intentions, Nasuada began to report him of her own kingdom and the countless decisions she had to make every waking hour, of her negotiations with Orik
and Orrin, the last who still hadn't turned into a more likeable company yet.
A deep melancholy gripped Eragon while he listened to her. Now that he hadn't seen his friends and confidantes as well as the land itself for a while, he felt more than ever what he
left behind. A thousand memories and feelings flashed behind his and Saphira's eyes; he had to bite back the tears forming in the corners of his eyes.
And then, after a long moment of hesitation, Nasuada said:
"I spoke to Arya yesterday evening by the way. She and Fírnen agreed to your plans considering the games which all people are allowed to attend. "
Eragon jerked in his sitting position, his gaze suddenly becoming very clear, his heart picking up a faster beat. Even Saphira, who had mostly abstained their conversation,
straightened her neck.
"Are they there?", he tried to control the longing in his voice as good as possible, "I would like to speak to her. I cannot reach her in Du Weldenvarden because of the spells of
protection the elves still defend themselves and their forest with."
"I know", Nasuada's eyes turned very soft now, "I regret to say that you missed her. She left for Ellesméra yesterday in the early morning."
Disappointment stabbed him like an icy dagger into his chest. He lowered his eyes for a second.
"I see. When you see her again, or correspond with her in any way, could you deliver her my invitation to speak with her here? Only if you would lend us your mirror for some
time, of course…", he added, smiling.
"I will", Nasuada answered, smiling too, "But I don't know when I will see her again, I hope you are aware of that. It could by days, it could be months till I hear of her again."
"Yes, I am aware of that. I will contact you again when my and your time can afford it – or you will contact me. We will talk again someday, I hope sooner rather than later, and I
will just hope that you will bring me some good news then. I don't know, I – "
He hesitated and looked for a very long moment very deeply into her
eyes; a mirthless smile appeared on his face.
"Nasuada, I am afraid we are all a bunch of lovesick fools."
She froze for a second, surprised of his words and the hint about his brother, too. Eragon's smile broadened in a wry way, yet his eyes remained sad.
Then she answered him by laughing just as joylessly.
So, here I am again… It took me a while longer to post this than I thought, I will try to do better the next time ;)
Bear with me if this story still is quite sad and not really going anywhere yet, but I am still in the process of building up. I wanted already to have Eragon's and Arya's talk in the mirror in this chapter, too, but after writing and ending his dialog with Nasuada I found it a fitting end, writing on and adding now his talk with Arya would have made the chapter
somehow… unround, you know. So, we will have this the next time.
"Greetings, Blödhgarm", answered Eragon after allowing him the contact with his mind, "What is the matter so early in this beautiful morning?"
And beautiful it was. It was the beginning of summer season and already warm, even though the morning dew still clung to the grass, the trees and all the other plants all around
him. He was walking through the forests which bordered on their yettobebuild city. The sun was already shining vividly through the canopy of the trees – pine trees, mostly.
"The High Queen is the matter, Eragon. She appeared in the mirror but a few minutes ago."
Eragon came to an instant halt. He was already taking the first step to lead him back to their home as Blödhgarm, recognising the decision within Eragon's mind, said:
"You need not hurry, nor interrupt your walk. She did not have the time to await your return and so left me with a message for you."
"And what message is that, Blödhgarm?"
"It was no pressing matter on her behalf. She wanted me to pass on to you that she will contact you again a fortnight from today, at sunset. She also wanted you to know, and I am
quoting now, "that two others of importance will be awaiting your presence, too." She said you would know what to do with that. I think you do, and so do I."
Eragon had long halted his every movement, gazing into the depths of the forest without really seeing anything. On Blödhgarm's last sentences he felt his fingers involuntary
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