The next morning had him once more waking to the sound of a knock at the door. Groaning, Eragon shifted in the bed, turning until he could see the door to his bedroom. He called out to his visitor, "Enter."
He was unsurprised when Glenwing walked in, the elf glancing around his sparse living space. "You know, if this is what you get for being a Rider, I don't know why any of you chose to do it."
Snorting as he sat up, Eragon responded, "I didn't exactly choose for Saphira to hatch for me. Not that I'm upset with it," he said quickly to Saphira, feeling her emotion. "It kind of happened the other way round."
"Yes, yes," the elf waved his hand at Eragon, as though dismissing what he said, "But I honestly expected better. Yesterday I didn't say anything, I know, but I needed time after such a shocking realization."
Eragon chuckled. "I'm sure that Vrael's old tree is a topic that requires plenty of dedicated thought."
"Not as much," Glenwing admitted, "But you are a topic that has me thinking hard these last few days."
"Oh?" Eragon asked. "And why is that?" He gathered a fresh changed of clothes, not caring that elf was in the room as he went about his business.
The elf merely turned slightly away before answering, "You see, I have this friend."
"I'm sure," Eragon responded quietly. "And this friend?"
Glenwing nodded, "This friend, I find, is very much saddened by the turn of events lately."
"Hm." Eragon had an inkling of who Glenwing was talking about.
"And then something wonderful happened!" the elf exclaimed. "Something that has not happened in near a century, and has returned hope to her people."
"I thought I was that hope," Eragon muttered.
"To Alagaësia, certainly," Glenwing pointed out, "But this thing that happened has recemented her peoples hope in their future."
"And?" Eragon prodded. He finished changing, strapping Brisingr to his waist. His amusement was fading as Glenwing continued to speak.
"And I do not know how to help my friend," Glenwing admitted. "She remains closed off to me, hidden behind her sense of duty."
"Have you tried talking to Arya?" Eragon asked gently. He walked over to Saphira, who was watching the elf with interest. Leaning against her head, he began to lightly scratch her jaw.
Glenwing followed him over, standing before the Rider and dragon. "I have, earlier this morning. And before on our journey here. Color me surprised when she does not speak to me, her oldest friend, yet she speaks with you easily."
Eragon frowned. "I don't remember Arya talking to me of such things."
"Not of Fäolin, no." the elf admitted to him. "But of her mother? I overheard your brief conversation yesterday. That Arya would ask you such things has shown me that she highly values your council."
He felt his eyebrows furrow, and Eragon tried to calm his emotions. "She valued my council because I had just experienced something similar in regard to a parent."
"Yes, but that's not why she listens to you speak." Glenwing offered. Eragon felt confused over the elf's words.
Tiring of the conversation, and the lack of direction it seemed to have, Eragon asked, "What do you wish of me, Glenwing? I do not know how to comfort her, nor do I think she would accept such a thing from me."
The elf was silent as he stared at Eragon. He watched as the elf grew serious, his face losing the nearly always present sense of calmness. "I know how you feel about her, Eragon."
Shocked, Eragon stopped his fingers on Saphira's jaws. His fingers fell to his side as he thought about deflecting the comment. Instead, he said, "What of it?"
Glenwing did not answer, instead asking, "What are your intentions with Arya?"
"My intentions?" Eragon grumbled. Letting out a breath, he made sure to keep his voice level. "My intentions are to ensure that Arya and Fírnen both become fully trained in all aspects expected of the Riders."
"Not how you will help her with her training, Eragon. What you will do about your feelings. Tell me how you truly feel about her."
He did not know how to answer, and Saphira decided to interject herself into the conversation. How he truly feels? He thinks of her constantly, failing to cast her from his mind wherever he sees her. Whenever she speaks he's reduced to nothing more than a blockhead, and yet he's marveled and captivated by everything she says. His dreams are full of her, a parade of half-baked thoughts and memories that I have to block from my own.
"Thank you, Saphira." Eragon groaned. "I'm not some child lusting after her."
No, you're not. But you do think her beautiful beyond compare.
"I also think that she is incredibly wise," Eragon retorted, "As well as fierce and strong."
"So, you do care for her!" Glenwing exclaimed. "Now what will you about it?"
"Nothing," Eragon replied. He was getting frustrated with the conversation. He moved away from Glenwing, pacing the floor of his bedroom briefly before turning back to the elf. "What do you wish for me to say? That I will fall down on my knees and profess my love before her?"
The elf paused, silent for a moment. "I know of what we last spoke of, Eragon, and how you feel about it. Do not think that someone will simply not love you because of your human heritage."
Eragon remained silent. Picking up that he would not respond, Glenwing continued, "I do not mean to embarrass or push you, my friend. Only that you would help Arya in any way that you could."
Eragon sighed. He turned and sat on the bed, his earlier frustration feeling depleted. "I will help her if she asks for it, Glenwing. Other than that, time might be the only solution."
"Time is the one thing we might not have," the elf responded. Glenwing considered his statement for a second, before chuckling lightly, "And that's coming from an elf."
Eragon laughed, feeling himself relax slightly. "You really are the strangest elf I've ever met."
Glenwing began to speak, only to stop when another knock sounded at the door. Curious, Eragon turned to face the entrance way, his voice rising to bid them entry.
He blinked in surprise when Arya walked in, and he could feel his heart lurch in his chest. Glenwing's own eyes widened at Eragon, only to return to his normal countenance when Arya glanced at him.
He did not know if she overheard their conversation, and he cursed himself lightly for forgetting to place wards to stop someone from listening in. Swallowing lightly, he said, "Arya, good morning. What brings you here?"
She entered, her green eyes taking in the room's occupants. "Oromis has summoned us this morning, Eragon, or did you forget?" She did not wait for him to respond, simply angling her head to the other elf, "And what are you doing, Glenwing? I thought you said you were heading out into the forest."
"Well," Glenwing said. Eragon watched as the elf tried to find words that would appease Arya, twisting his hands lightly in front of him. "I simply wished to have a conversation with my dear friend Eragon before I left."
Arya raised an eyebrow at the elf. If he was unsure before, he knew then that she had caught part of their discussion. "If your talk with Eragon is complete, Glenwing, then he and I must be off."
Glenwing nodded, bowing slightly to Arya, "As you say, Arya Dröttningu. Eragon, Saphira, a pleasure as always." He bid them farewell, disappearing out the door. Eragon felt uncomfortable now without the elf, so he began to strap Saphira's saddle to the dragon.
Glancing around Arya, he asked, "Were is Fírnen?"
Arya inclined her head towards the opening in the tree that Saphira used to enter. "Waiting down below for us."
This is awkward. Eragon thought.
For you, maybe. Saphira said to him, and he could feel her amusement flow into him. This is the best entertainment I've had in centuries, watching you bumble about the elf.
He didn't respond to her. Eragon finished securing the saddle before climbing into it, turning to Arya. "Are you to ride with us again?"
"If it isn't much trouble for Saphira." At Saphira's assent, the elf climbed quickly up her leg, settling in behind Eragon. Saphira turned and launched herself out of the tree, her wings slightly open to slow her fall. He saw Fírnen standing at the base of his home, the green dragon watching Saphira closely as she landed.
The dragon scrambled up her side, placing himself in front of Eragon as he did the day prior. When he grabbed the hatchling in his hands, he felt a presence brush against his mind.
We are well met, Eragon-elda. Fírnen said. It is an honor to finally speak with you in this language.
Smiling, Eragon held on tightly as Saphira jumped into the sky, her wings carrying them above the trees of the forest. Indeed, Fírnen. You have grown much since you've hatched, and it is a pleasure to speak with you.
The dragon hummed lightly in front of him, his face angled into the wind as Saphira flew. He caught the hatchling closing his eyes, so Eragon made sure to keep his wings tucked in close. Soon, the dragon would be too big for him to hold, and would instead need to fly next to Saphira for the trips out to Oromis. He felt the connection between Fírnen and himself narrow. The dragon blocked out the others, so Eragon did the same, closing his mind slightly to Saphira.
Arya speaks highly of you, Fírnen stated. Though her thoughts are confusing and indistinct. I can feel a great sense of grief in her, but she has yet to share with me more than the simple cause of it.
Debating his answer, Eragon paused for a moment. Give her time, Fírnen. Your bond is new, and Arya will adapt to it. It's only been a week since you've hatched.
You and Saphira share much between the two of you, Fírnen pointed out. The bond between you in an example of one that I wish for Arya and myself to have one day.
Saphira and I have known each other for centuries. It took me a while to become accustomed to sharing my mind and feelings. Be there for Arya, and you will find that she will open up to you in ways that she would never do with someone else. Such is the relationship between a Rider and dragon.
The dragon was silent as he pondered his words. Fírnen closed the connection between them as he said, Wise council, Shur'tugal.
No one spoke the rest of the journey, and Eragon used the time to think to himself. He wasn't worried for Fírnen and Arya bonding, for he had seen how she looked whenever the hatchling was around. No, his thoughts were mostly preoccupied by Glenwing's words to him. The elf's words about not having time, and his own to Fírnen of giving Arya time made him worried. Fate was fickle, Eragon knew, and he had to try his best to make use of whatever time he had.
Oromis was waiting for them as they landed, while Glaedr seemed to not have moved from yesterday. The elf greeted them as they approached, and Eragon noticed that the stools they used the previous day were absent. Fírnen followed Saphira as she moved into the forest, and Eragon could feel Glaedr's mind stretch out past them as the he observed the two dragons. Saphira was going to provide the physical demonstrations for the hatchling, while Glaedr would lead the teachings with his mind.
"Today I will have you spar with Eragon, Arya." Oromis said. "Then you will demonstrate to me your magical abilities. I doubt this shall take too long, as experienced as you already are. But it must be done, and I will not have your training curtailed simply because I could not grasp the full extent of your prowess."
Arya nodded sternly. "Yes, Ebrithil."
Oromis motioned to Eragon and took a few steps back. Eragon moved away from the elf, facing Arya as he drew his blade. He warded it so as not to cause injury, watching as Arya did the same.
"You will need a Rider's blade," Oromis stated. He was observing from a distance Arya's elven blade, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. "Speak with Rhunön when you can, but for now your own will do."
Arya held up her blade to him, her stance set. He could see how serious she was about this. She seemed eager to prove herself before the elder Rider, and he could even tell that she wanted to win this sparring match. Her fierceness gave him momentary pause, before he recalled that they had dueled once before, with him the victor.
Eragon had seen her fight before, but still he watched her with careful movements. Arya struck first, and Eragon parried the blow. He flicked his wrist, bringing Brisingr up at the elf in an arc. She blocked the strike, twisting around his blade to escape. Arya's eyes were narrow as she took him in, striking out with her blade once more. He dodged backwards, stepping into her guard as the blade passed.
She anticipated the move, retreating slightly to keep the distance between them. For a few minutes they sparred, neither able to gain an advantage over the other. He could feel her frustration growing as they continued, but her movements remained sharp and precise. Arya had seemed to have studied his own fighting style, so Eragon easily switched Brisingr to his other hand.
He had learned to duel with both hands, having accidently broken his right in the past. He was less fluid using his left, but the odd stance gave Arya pause as she struck. He could feel himself gaining on her, his blade nearly missing her torso once as she tried to twist away. For nearly an hour they spared, and Eragon once more switched Brisingr between his hands.
Eragon nearly forgot Oromis was watching until the silver haired elf called out, "Enough. I do not need the two of you beating each other black and blue."
Eragon halted his blade in the air, caught mid swing. Arya stopped as well, and he could see her panting slightly from their duel. He was similarly affected, the blood in his veins rushing as he attempted to calm himself. He saw a flash of frustration on Arya's face at their duel being halted, but she simply sheathed her blade, turning her back to Eragon to face Oromis.
Eragon moved to stand next to her, Brisingr laxed in his grip before he sheathed it as well. Oromis nodded to the two of them, smiling. "As I expected, Arya. You are extremely skilled with a blade, and I will not be able to provide you any further instruction in this matter. If they two of you wish, you may spar in the morning before our lessons."
Oromis's eyes flickered between the two of them. "I do ask," Oromis added, "That you do not kill each other in doing so."
Eragon chuckled, and he could see Arya beside him fight to keep one from her face. "Yes, Ebrithil."
"Now we will test your proficiency with magic." Oromis said, "Only use the energy you hold within, and take care to not draw from Fírnen." Arya's eyes moved to the forest at his words. Through his bond with Saphira, he could feel her show the green dragon how properly maintain his scales, Glaedr coaching them along from where he rested.
Eragon leaned against one of the trees the hut was grown from, watching as Arya invoked spell after spell at Oromis's behest. She never faltered, able to accomplish even the most advanced spellcasting. It took nearly three hours before Oromis was satisfied with her knowledge, telling them that they would break for lunch.
Eragon grabbed the stools from inside the hut, giving one to each of the elves as Oromis passed out a simple soup he had prepared for them. They ate in near silence, and Eragon for once felt a sense of peace he had long been missing.
Finished with her soup, Arya turned to Oromis. "Might I ask something, Ebrithil?"
The elf nodded, gently placing his spoon down on the small table. "If it is within my knowledge, I will gladly tell you."
"During the battle of Farthen Dûr," Arya began. She blinked for a moment, as though remembering something before continuing, "Eragon used a spell I have never seen before. It distorted the very air around us, and Eragon was able to summon lightning from his blade. I have never seen such a powerful strike of lightning, and I wondered if it was knowledge only the Riders held."
Oromis gazed at Eragon for a moment before shaking his head at Arya. "No, such a thing was never taught to the Riders. Any magician can summon a form of lightning, but as you are no doubt aware, it is a dangerous venture. Controlling such a thing is difficult, even for us."
"It was something I learned from a group of spellcasters to the east," Eragon offered. "They claimed to be able to control the very weather itself, and taught me the spell. I've only used it a few times, for it drains your energy quickly."
"I would hear this incantation, Eragon." He told Oromis the spell, as well as the way in which to control it and how to end the magic. Oromis's brows furrowed as he considered the wording.
"Such a thing is a mastery of magic that I've never seen myself," Oromis admitted. "Using such spells are dangerous, and you would be advised to use caution if you plan to harness them in the future."
"Yes, Oromis-elda," Eragon murmured.
Oromis nodded at Eragon, turning back to Arya. "There is magic that only the oldest of Rider's knew. Secrets that even Galbatorix might not know. I will instruct you in its use, and Eragon will provide the more… physical instructions that such magic will require."
Arya nodded her understanding. After Oromis finished his lunch, he instructed Eragon to test Arya's mental defenses. For nearly two hours they struggled against one another before Oromis stopped them. Arya was perhaps the most difficult opponent he ever faced, the walls surrounding her mind seemingly unbreachable. Nor was she able to find purchase in his mind, though Eragon knew she was close.
"Your mind is strong, Arya." Oromis stated. "Possibly stronger than Eragon's. In this as well you will require no additional training. Though I do suggest both you and Eragon ensure you do not become lax in such practice."
Arya seemed satisfied with Oromis's words, a small smile appearing as she said, "Yes, Ebrithil."
The rest of the day Oromis devoted to teaching Arya the various ways of caring for a dragon. They told her of fireweed, as well as other plants that she could use. Eragon shared his own knowledge from outside Alagaësia on remedies; most were alternatives that he and Saphira experimented with after their own supplies ran low. At the end, Arya was able to recount all that they told her, her mind absorbing the information easily.
When Saphira and Fírnen returned Oromis ended the lesson for the day. "I think that is enough, for now. Tomorrow I will have Eragon show you some of our magics. Go, the rest of the day is yours to do with as you please."
Arya nodded and turned towards Saphira. She stopped next to the dragon, clearly waiting for Eragon to climb up first. "Take them back, Saphira. I need to talk to Oromis-elda about something."
Saphira faced him, her sapphire eye taking him in. Very well. Do you wish for me to return for you?
Eragon shook his head. Saphira sniffed, before nudging Arya lightly with her snout. Come, Arya. Leave these two old men to their talk.
Arya looked him for a moment before she climbed up to the saddle, Fírnen following behind. Eragon watched Saphira as she spread her wings in preparation for flight. The dragon launched herself into the air, winging her way back towards Ellesméra. His gaze tracked her until she left his vision, her blue scales blending in with the small remaining patch of blue sky.
It would be night before he returned, but Eragon knew the way back to the city even in the dark. Oromis gestured for him to follow into the hut. Inside, the elf set about making some tea, the brew tickling Eragon's delicate nose. He sat at the table, taking in his surroundings. Scrolls were strewn about nearly every surface, though they were neatly organized. There was a small bed, and the kitchen that Oromis used was modest to say the least.
The elf placed two cups down, taking the seat opposite Eragon. The elf said nothing, clearly waiting for Eragon. He spoke loud enough that Glaedr could hear him through the thin walls, though he knew the dragon would be listening through Oromis. "I would have your council, Oromis-elda."
When the elf nodded at him, Eragon told of his talk with Solembum in Farthen Dûr, as well as the presence that interrupted him. He tried to accurately recall the experience, even explaining the pain that came from the unknown spell. Oromis's face became puzzled as he talked, and the elf did not interrupt him until the end. "This presence you say, it took hold of your mind?"
"Yes." Eragon answered. "I have never felt anything like it before. Saphira and I briefly thought it might have been Galbatorix, but it did not seem intent in harming us, or even trying to subjugate our will."
Oromis stewed over his words, and he could see the worry in his old master. "In my scrying of the land, I have never encountered such a thing. You would do well to guard your mind, Eragon. Until we can discern their intentions, do not trust that they will not harm you if you encounter them again."
Nodding, Eragon asked, "And what of the Rock of Kuthian? I've never heard of this Vault of Souls. Vroengard held many secrets, but this is not one that I know of."
"That name, it strikes a familiar chord in my memory. I cannot recall where I have heard it before." Oromis stated. A glaze appeared in Oromis's eyes for a moment, before disappearing when the elf shook his head.
Blinking, Eragon said, "It's on Vroengard, Oromis-elda. You were the one who originally told me about its history."
The elf frowned, raising a hand to his temple briefly. "I would remember such a thing in our old home, Eragon."
Stunned, Eragon sat back in his chair. That his old master would not recall such a thing was worrying. Oromis was not one to forget, even now with his illness. It must have been the enchantment that struck Saphira and I. But to make Oromis forget? Eragon thought.
"Glaedr-elda," Eragon said, his mind touching the older dragon lightly. "Do you recall the Rock of Kuthian?"
The name rumbles in my mind, but I cannot place it… Something important was there, something… Ah, it is gone. What were you asking about, Eragon?
Worried, Eragon ran his hand through his hair. "Do you trust that I speak the truth, and that I know what I have experienced?"
"I do, Eragon." Oromis answered.
Of course, Eragon-vor.
"There is a place, on Vroengard that you cannot recall. When I speak the name, the both of you soon forget it. I know of it, Masters, for you have shown it to Saphira and I." Eragon explained.
Oromis's eyes narrowed, and Eragon could see his master thinking. "That we would forget such a thing is troubling. You said something of Vroengard, yes? There is nothing left on the island, but the words of a werecat should never be discounted."
What will you do, Eragon? Glaedr asked.
"I do not know. Saphira and I know too little, and to journey to Vroengard is not something we can do now. This presence we felt, it may know more about why the two of you cannot recall of what I speak." Eragon said. He drummed his fingers on the table, pondering.
"I will search through my scrolls in the meantime, and see if I can divine anything. If what you say is true, however, searching for something I cannot remember will be difficult. It also remains to be seen if this spell only affects Glaedr and I." Oromis stated.
The gold dragon grumbled and Eragon could feel the table shake slightly. I do not like enchantments that affect the mind. They led to confusion, and sow sorrow and discord. Too many times it can end with families bloodying each other. Ask others that may hold knowledge of Vroengard if they can remember what you speak of. If they can, then we know that only Oromis and I remain affected. If they cannot, then I fear this spell is more powerful then we may think.
Oromis agreed. "Though, it is worrying that this spell seemed to affect you briefly. Perhaps it removes any memories or knowledge that one would hold, but for it to affect you and Saphira means that its reach is far."
"It was only when Solembum mentioned the name that it affected me," Eragon mentioned. "The second I recalled the rock it tore at me like nothing I've ever felt. But if it is supposed to remove one's memories, why do it then?"
You and Saphira may not have been here when the enchantment was cast, Glaedr offered. If so, then perhaps the wording of the spell is to blame. If the casters did not anticipate your return, then they would have not accounted for two individuals to encounter the spell after removing Oromis and I memories. Or the memories of others if what I fear is true.
"Be careful, Eragon." Oromis said. "But until we are presented with new information, we should not dwell too long on it. See if others remember, and then we can try to determine the best course of action."
"Yes, Oromis-elda."
The next morning Saphira flew them back out to the Crags. When they landed, Eragon waited for Arya to depart, her form brushing against his as she moved. She had appeared at his door this morning, ready to depart at once. Arya had asked that they spar on occasion, so Eragon proposed that they could do so the following morning. She had accepted, telling him to meet her the following day in the fields where the elves normally sparred.
Oromis met them out front, while Fírnen remained on Saphira. Glaedr took off from the Crags, Saphira following behind the older dragon.
"Today," Oromis instructed, "Eragon will take you into the forest to mediate. You will listen until you can hear no more. Eragon, when you are satisfied, you will teach her in the same manner that I taught you." The silver haired elf shared an image of a white stump with Eragon, nudging his mind in its direction.
Eragon nodded, motioning for Arya to follow. They journeyed deep into Du Weldenvarden until Eragon spotted the hollow Oromis showed him. Dark trees leaned inward, shading the area from much of the morning sunlight. Moss covered the ground, deep enough for his feet to sink into. The white stump of a tree sat in the middle of the hollow, the top shaved flat and cleanly polished.
Eragon inclined his head towards the stump. "Sit, please."
Arya sat on the stump, crossing her legs under her. She was staring at him, and Eragon glanced away from her to the forest around them. "You are familiar with opening your mind and listening?"
He could see Arya nod to the side of where he was looking. Eragon trained his eyes back on her, watching as she frowned slightly. "Please, do so. When you believe you have listened and can learn no more, we shall begin."
The elf closed her eyes, her breaths shallow as she mediated. He felt her mind brush past his own as it expanded outwards. She hesitated as she made contact, but when he did not shy away, she continued passed him. He did not fully lower the barriers of his mind, merely letting her acknowledge his presence and the surface level feeling of his mind.
Eragon laid down on the other side of the hollow, back resting on the ground. He closed his eyes and tried to remain still. He did not want to disturb her mediation. Arya was an excellent spellcaster, and Eragon knew that she would be able to easily accomplish the task.
For nearly three hours they both were still, Eragon's thoughts wandering as he waited for Arya. When he heard her move did he finally open his eyes. The sun was higher in the sky, barely peaking past the dense branches of the hollow around them. Arya was walking towards him, her face an impassive mask of emotion.
He sat up as she stood over him, and he asked, "What did you learn?"
The elf's brows furrowed as she explained the movements of the insects of the forest, as well as a multitude of smaller creatures that called the area home. When she was finished, Eragon nodded. "And what was I thinking of?"
Arya hesitated for a moment before she said, "I don't know." A brief paused ensued before she murmured, "Ebrithil."
He cringed at the title. Eragon spoke, his words soft. "I know you intended to not cause offense, Arya, but do not shy away from pressing your mind into my own. Oromis once told me that I should be able to watch one, and know all."
Arya nodded her head, and Eragon inclined his own towards the stump. "One more hour, and then I think we can begin."
She said nothing as she returned to the stump, her eyebrows still sharp as she went. Arya was certainly proud for an elf. He could tell that she did not like the idea of failing. Though she was already league's ahead of him when Oromis taught him this technique. Once more he felt her mind brush against his own, and this time she lingered against the edges of his mind. Eragon let his mind wander as he remained seated. His thoughts consisted of simple things; memories of flying with Saphira, the sensations of the forest around him and the feelings of calmness that it granted him.
His eyes tracked the movement of the sun, faint as it was through the dark bramble above. Once the hour had passed Eragon made his way over to Arya, watching as she opened her eyes. This time when she spoke, she included his own thoughts, her words short and concise as she explained what passed through his mind.
Her explanation complete, Eragon nodded at her. "Good. Now, what is the cost of magic, Arya?"
She answered quickly, her eyebrows raised at the question. "Energy."
"And where does this energy come from?" Eragon asked.
"The spellcaster's own body." Arya said.
"Where else might it be found?" Eragon pressed. He knew she would know, but Oromis had instructed him to teach her in the same manner that he was taught.
"Energy can be stored in jewels, such as the one in your Brisingr."
"True, but where would that energy originate? Speaking from your own point of view, where might you be able to draw energy that is not stored in such a manner?"
He saw her mind race as she frowned. "If my mind was connected to someone else, I could receive energy from them if they offered it."
"Not just if they offered," Eragon nodded at her. "I want you to cast a spell. Something simple, and use only the energy you can gleam from around the forest."
Arya nodded her head, her mind spreading around into the forest around them. She ignored him when her mind touched his, and Eragon drew his shields up slightly higher. When she was satisfied, Arya drew her blade and held it across her hands. The blade rested lightly in her hands, gleaming in the soft light of the hollow. "Up!" she commanded.
He watched the blade rise in the air, and he could feel the flow of energy around them as she channeled it. He knew it happened when Arya flinched on the stump. He watched as the moss around the hollow withered, and he could feel the smaller animals of the forest as they died.
Her blade fell with a clang against the stump. Arya stood and her expression was fierce as she glared at him. "You knew that would happen. Why let it?"
It reminded him so much of his own training, how he had yelled at Oromis in his anger. "It was necessary, Arya. Forgive me, but Oromis had me do much the same near the end of my training."
Her face still betrayed her anger as she stared at him. "In the future, draw from those that can handle such a loss. Doing so is impractical in battle, as the flow of energy is too slow. And I think you understand why this isn't something that is taught outside of the Riders."
Arya nodded her head, but her posture remained stiff. "I can see the wisdom in not wanting others to know of such things." The elf bent down and retrieved her blade, returning it to the sheathe on her waist. "If that is all, Ebrithil?"
Eragon glanced into the sky, taking in the hour of the day. "If you wish, Arya. But there are still somethings I can teach you that are not as- Crude."
Arya took him in as he stood in front of her, and he watched as her expression slowly cleared. "Of course, Era- Ebrithil."
Eragon taught her some of the spells Oromis did during his training. Some she already knew of, others he could see she understood as soon as he told her. Arya was an extremely quick study, able to easily understand and grasp the intentions behind the magic. He told her of wards that only the Riders used, ones that would help shield the dragons from harm. Eragon explained how wards sometimes did not always act the way they should with dragons, of how their own magic could sometimes interfere with them.
He racked his mind for nearly two more hours as he tried to recall his own teachings. Sometimes he would slip in spells and knowledge of magic gleaned from his own experiences, and Arya would eagerly listen as he explained the complex spells.
Eragon had her practice using other methods of concealment, showing her how he had hidden himself for years outside of Alagaësia. When he was done, he had her briefly recount everything he told her, and was unsurprised that she could recall it all with near perfect clarity.
"I think that is enough for today, Arya." Eragon said. "Let us return."
The elf nodded, following him as he made his way back to the hut Oromis lived in. He could feel Saphira returning as well, her memories mixing in with his own as they drew closer to one another. Oromis was waiting for them as they emerged from the forest. Saphira and Glaedr were already laying down next to the hut, their sizes dwarfing the small structure. As he walked up towards them, he realized that Saphira was nearly close to half Glaedr's size now.
Fírnen was crawling on Saphira's wing, though she didn't seem to mind. Oromis turned to Arya as she approached and asked, "What should you do if you find yourself alone in the middle of a windstorm?"
Arya frowned, "I wouldn't know."
Oromis shook his head, but did not react as Eragon expected. "In the future, ensure that you share your memories with each other, Arya, Fírnen. Your bond may be new, and your training is certainly… unconventional, but we will require the two of you to mingle your consciousnesses until you act and think as one."
Arya bowed her head, as though shamed. "We will, Ebrithil."
"You should not feel upset," Eragon said softly. "Saphira and I did much the same. Most Rider's do." She inclined her head at him, but he saw that his words did not have the effect he intended.
When morning finally arrived, Eragon met Arya in the sparring field on the outskirts of Ellesméra. The glade was mostly empty, with only a few elves practicing their movements. He could not tell the ages of the elves, but there was a stark difference between those that were laughing as they practiced, and those that remained silent. Arya was already there, having claimed a section of the glade them.
As Eragon approached he greeted Arya, though the two of them had stopped using the traditional elven greeting. "Good morning, Arya."
"Ebrithil." She responded.
He flinched at the title, unused to it. Why he was so disturbed by it from her lips, Eragon could only wonder. "I am not your teacher here, Arya. Let us spar as equals."
Arya blinked and smiled before inclining her head at him. "Of course, Eragon."
He drew Brisingr, noting that she still used her elven blade. "Any luck finding a Rider sword?"
She shook her head, "Not as of yet. There are a few families that have such weapons, and I've begun to make some head way with them." She raised her sword at him, "Till then, this will have to do."
He warded his blade, taking care to make sure that the wards were applied heavily to the blue sword. The last thing Eragon wanted was to accidently destroy her blade, especially since brightsteel was the strongest material the elves knew of. They already sparred a few times in the past, and he did not know how much more her blade could take.
When Arya finished her own wards, the two of them stepped closer together, readying themselves. He struck first, moving Brisingr away when she parried the blow. Their swords clashed again, locking before they both moved back. Arya's expression was fierce as she struck again, battering at Brisingr as he parried.
She was intense as she came at him again, her blows unrelenting. Arya seemed to want something from him, so he tried to match her as they dueled. Each blow reverberated up his arm, and when Arya stepped forward into his guard he twisted around her, Brisingr slapping her arm.
She scowled at him, and Eragon nearly froze from her expression. He jumped to the side as she lunged forward, the tip of her sword rubbing against his chest as it passed. Ducking aside, he struck out again, intending to push her back. Eventually, when Eragon twirled around her, Arya struck at his leg, her blade smacking hard against his thigh. He retreated, watching as a smirk appeared briefly on her face.
If it were an actual battle, with their blades sharp, Eragon would have received a nasty wound that would have slowed him greatly. He inclined his head, acknowledging the hit. Eragon struck out with Brisingr, starting the duel once more. As their blades flashed quickly against one another, Eragon did his best to take in all of Arya. She was an excellent fighter, and rarely did she make a mistake or time a blow wrong.
He shifted to the left as she swung her sword, knocking it flat to the ground as he moved forward. Arya seemed to have learned from their duel in Farthen Dûr, for she retreated away instead of allowing him to knock her off balance. She stepped to her right, her movement making him turn slightly to keep his blade level with her.
Arya darted in, and Eragon parried her thrust to the side, his blade sliding against hers as he went. They exchanged blows for some time, before he finally saw his opening. With a quick flick of his wrist, Eragon was inside her guard. He shoved her back with his shoulder, Brisingr smacking into her ribs as she stumbled.
Emerald eyes locked on to his, and Eragon could see a hint of frustration rising in her. She righted herself, moving to attack again. Their duel was quicker this time, and when Arya struck him across the back did he finally see her smile in victory for a moment. She was breathing hard, and he could begin to see the exhaustion taking hold. Eragon felt out of breath as well, but he hid his own tiredness as they dueled again.
Arya surprised him by her movement, almost too quick for him to catch. She darted in, feinting a strike at him before smacking hard against his wrist. In his shock, he dropped Brisingr, the blade silent as it hit the dirt beneath them. Arya moved in, knowing that he was defenseless, but Eragon twirled under her blade, closing the distance between them.
If there was one thing he was certain of, it was that Arya could easily beat him if he allowed her room to maneuver, disarmed as he was. So, he grasped her sword arm in his hand, straining against her as she tried to pull her arm away. Eragon ducked under the arm he held, twisting his grip to keep hold of her as he moved. Arya's fist came flying at his face, and Eragon parried it with his own hand. They grappled with each other, Eragon doing everything he could to keep her sword pointed away from his body.
The duel ended when he slipped behind her, one arm wrapping around her neck as the other strained to keep her arm away. She froze in his arms, and only then did Eragon realize that he was pressed tightly against her body, the both of them panting hard as they tried to catch their breath.
He moved away quickly, his right hand releasing her arm while his left unwound itself from her neck. She twisted to face him, her sword hanging by her side. Neither said anything as they stared at each other. Arya's face was pale, and he had a hard time understanding the emotions that rolled across her face.
His ears warmed as he remembered the feeling of her pressed against him, and Eragon cleared his throat as he pushed the memory down. "I think that is enough for today," he said quietly.
Arya nodded. She glanced up at the sun as she continued to pant, and for a moment Eragon admired her beauty. He pushed the feeling down as she turned back to him, running his hand through his hair. "Yes, I agree. I will meet you at your tree after I… make myself more presentable."
Eragon agreed, turning sharply to leave the glade. He lifted a hand behind him, waving at Arya as he left. In the back of his mind, he could feel Saphira chuckle at him as he walked.
What?
Your fight was most amusing, thank you. He could feel her mirth flow through them, connected as they always were through the bond.
Eragon sighed. It wasn't like that.
He could tell she was laughing, even if he didn't hear her. Keep telling yourself that.