For Alagaesia: 44. Travel and travail as respite

Osilon was a much quieter and smaller city than Ellesmera. Being the second elven city on which Eragon had laid his eyes upon, it held a sort of interest to him. He wanted to know how the elves lived outside the rich capital of theirs. It turned out that both the cities were nothing similar except for the fact that both blended with the nature seamlessly.

Osilon had many settlements built out of fallen leaves, twigs and branches of trees unlike Ellesmera where most of the buildings were created by singing the live-trees into shape. The houses here were spaced greatly that finding another house from the courtyard of one was nigh on impossible. Accordingly, the city had so few residents.

“They love their privacy”, Arya said when he questioned her about it.

“So do all elves.”, Eragon replied incredulously.

“These more so than others. Elves have longer lives than others, Eragon. We live for so long that the losses incurred by us have lasting effect on our lives. That is why we take painful efforts to prevent such losses. The people who live here are old and broken that they lost all interest in socialising. So they choose to live in homes detached from the others.”, she explained.

But Eragon still wasn’t convinced. “How could people live all by themselves? Even if they have seen too many losses in their lives, I don’t think they can simply hide all their sorrows and live alone.”

“I too can’t see how they do, Eragon. But they do. Perhaps, we are too young to know what it is to lose all our friends and family, over and over again. Perhaps we haven’t seen enough.”, she replied.

Eragon nodded. ‘Perhaps’, he said to Saphira, who was off to hunt. He hadn’t noticed at first, but this was the first time Arya had accepted her youth. She had clubbed her with Eragon in stating that they were ‘too young’. In fact, he knew not one elf other than the elven children he had seen at Ellesmera who was younger than Arya. There might have been a few but all elves he had spoken and had contact with were older than Arya. She was the youngest elf he had been in contact with. He smiled at the thought. Thinking Arya as young was too amusing to control, especially after Arya, Saphira and Oromis had all fed him with that knowledge as if he were a wooden piece into which that fact had to be nailed.

“What is it?”, Arya asked seeing him smile.

“Just something you will find unacceptable.”, Eragon said avoiding the real mention of the real reason for his smile.

“Do share with me.”

“Its just that I happened to think of the elven way of life. As far as my knowledge permits, I can only think of a handful of elves born after the fall of the riders. A hundred years and an addition of just about a dozen people. What would happen if the humans lived this way? We would have been extinct long ago.”, he said still hiding his real reason for smiling, yet actually wondering what it would be like if humans lived as the elves did.

Arya smiled and said, “The perception of children in both our cultures is entirely different. While humans seek to have children to maintain their legacy on earth, for the elves, children are the symbol of ultimate love. Hence the elven children are considered precious and special.”

Eragon nodded solemnly, satisfied that his dodging around the truth had not been noticed by Arya. Although, he already knew of what Arya said him, hearing it from her brought him some sort of thrill that he couldn't associate with anything in particular. As if sharing his insecurity, Arya turned away from him as soon as she finished her sentence.

“How many people are eligible to touch the egg in this town, Arya?”, Eragon asked suddenly remembering that Arya had met with the lord of the city, an elderly elf by name, Frioldwer to discuss about the egg-presenting ceremony, the day before and wanting to divert their talk towards something more comfortable.

“I haven’t planned of having any restrictions about touching the egg, Eragon. But if you insist…”, she started but Eragon cut her off hastily, saying, “No, Arya. There is no question of me interrupting in your duties. I merely wanted to know the current status.”

“Oh. Um, In that case, fine. Not many in the city are interested. That probably is a good thing – Glaedr approves my view – because people from this town can’t be expected to forge a strong relation with a dragon. They are old and hold many secrets that they would be reluctant to share.” She paused and continued in a softer tone, “You needn’t be told of the importance of sharing all details of one’s life with their dragon.”

Eragon sighed. ‘There are people in this world who do not want to be dragon-riders, Saphira.’, he said although he knew that she had heard his conversation with Arya already through their mental contact.

“So how many are ready?”, Eragon asked.

“Only a handful. Five relatively younger elves - although each one of them is several hundred years old.”

“If the egg hatches for them, would they be able to accept a dragon as part of their lives?”, Eragon asked doubt clouding his mind.

“We can only hope. It is the only thing that we can now bank on.”, Arya said wearily.

“When will the ceremony be held?”

“Tomorrow. Maybe by midday.”

*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

With unfulfilled dreams of finding a rider to the green dragon, Eragon stood looking from the sidelines as Arya presided over the ‘touching’ of the last elf. In a way, he was even glad that the egg hadn’t hatched for any of the five people to whom the egg was presented with: they looked like a haunted creatures with absolutely no emotion on their faces. He had seen the cold expressions of Arya, her mother and certain other elves. But this was different. It was as if these elves didn’t have anything to do with the living world; as if someone was holding them back by force from falling into the void. He couldn’t imagine how these elves would behave towards him, when the time to train them comes. But more than that, he worried about the little dragon that would be born with hopes of a bright life. If any one of them had become the rider of the dragon, then the dragon wouldn’t have known what it is to be young. As Arya and Glaedr had indicated earlier, it was a good sign that most in the city weren’t interested.

Ultimately, the visit to the city had been purely diplomatic so that none felt left out or abandoned, especially, the residents of Osilon who had harboured hatred for long years and Eragon was glad that it stayed so. A rider from that community didn’t feel like a good idea.

Saphira who had been solemnly watching the ceremony standing alongside Arya shared his sentiments.

‘I accept. These two-legs don’t seem to like living. Maybe they will fight Galbatorix vigourously, but the hatchling who will make them powerful would be affected. He shouldn’t be for he is the last of my race to remain in egg. He has to have a better future.’ she said. The protectiveness Saphira felt towards the dragon egg was so huge that the feeling leaked through her link with Eragon and made him feel protective of the egg.

Arya then thanked the five elves for attending the ceremony. The only visitor to grace the ceremony was the elf-lord Frioldwer. All six of them just nodded their heads as if accepting her words and left them soon. They didn't even stop to admire Saphira as the other elves Eragon had seen. Their countenance was simply unworldly. Eragon could find no other word for it. He was adept at suppressing and hiding his emotions; as was Arya - but these elves had no emotion atall or they were masters of deception – which was highly improbable. Baffled, Eragon sought to push the thoughts about them away by concentrating on the next action on their part.

Saphira stood looking ahead at some tree. Her mind was completely blank. She seemed to be in a fix just as him. Both didn't know what to do or even say. So he joined her in looking at the tree-filled land.

'There is still much work to be done, children. Don't lose heart too early. The elven kingdom is vast. We shall travel to each city and see if the egg responds to anyone's presence.', Glaedr said entering their minds after a long while. Increasingly, the golden dragon had restrained from commenting on Eragon and Saphira's actions. He reasoned that now that they were the leaders of the riders, they had to make decisions on their own. Only when they were too distressed and forlorn as they were now did he intervene in their working.

'Yes master. We know that. Hope is the only thing we could now hope to have. Everything else that was good has left this land.', Eragon said again letting his frustration and anger at the world show through.

'Your words speak of hopelessness, hatchling. Yet you say that hope remains in our hearts. Learn to hope, Eragon. You will need lot of it in the future.'

Hearing Glaedr's words of advice was always a pleasure for Eragon. It had been long since he had heard his master shower his wise words of advice.

'I do hope that we could defeat the evil king, master. What worries me is the life of the dragon in this egg. Saphira had you to train her in the ways of the dragons of the old. Who will he have, if and when he hatches?'

'If I had known that your doubt was this naive, I would never have talked to you.', Glaedr simply said.

'Master?', Eragon called.

Glaedr addressed Saphira instead of responding to him and asked, 'Do you share his concern?'

'I do, master.', Saphira replied respectfully.

'Well then what use is all my education to you if you can't train a dragon in the ways of our elders?', Glaedr asked Saphira accusingly.

'I know that I will have to train him, master. But will I be able to do justice to your knowledge? Can I be what you were for me to this dragon?', Saphira replied.

‘You don’t understand your own potential, little one. You are too much in doubt with your own abilities to see the world around you. You, Saphira are the last of us. The last of the great dragons of the old. And you will be the first of the great dragons of tomorrow. I have seen it in you, Saphira. You are as great a dragon as any leader of our race. Trust in your abilities. I shall guide you through when you face unsolvable riddles.’, Glaedr said, his mental voice a mixture of pride and kindness.

‘Master.’, Saphira said and bowed her head in respect for the trust Glaedr had in her.

“It is time for us to leave this town.”, Arya said as she packed the dragon egg back into the sack, “If the egg remains unhatched, then there is no use in spending our time in Du WeldenVarden. We would be of better use with the Varden or at Gil’ead with my people.”

“True. I have been feeling bad about the Varden’s state ever since we left them.”, Eragon said exposing his fear for the Varden for the first time since they left the Varden for Du WeldenVarden.

“You both shouldn’t have come with me.”, Arya said bluntly. When Eragon looked at her incredulously, Saphira said gently, ‘I would have accompanied you, anyway. There is nothing more important to me in this world except the safety of this egg.’

When Arya tried to speak up again, Saphira cut her off, saying, ‘I think we agreed that we would not talk of this matter anymore. I shall keep my promise. So should you.’

That settled the matter, atleast for then. They wasted no time in packing their bags and leaving for Kirtan, the frontier elven city. It was a small town, but it was located near Osilon. In hopes that the remote city might have some elf who was lucky enough to have the egg hatched for them, they decided to go there on their way to Silthrim.

The swiftness with which they left Osilon finally extracted a surprised reaction from its residents. Frioldwer came forward and bowed before Saphira, the first time anyone in the city had done so, and said, “We had hoped that you will be staying for atleast a day longer. But your interest in brining Galbatorix to the floor has evoked surprise among us. If need be, we shall fight with you. And when we do Galbatorix will find that he had chosen wrong people to meddle with in his past.” He paused at that and said in the earlier emotionless voice, a while later, “Fare thee well, in your endeavour.”

*     *    *    *    *    *    *     *    *   *

Saphira flew fast and by nightfall, they had reached Kirtan. The city’s ruling lady, a young elf by name, Rakshana, welcomed them. The town despite being smaller and less organised than Osilon had a sort of rapture to it. The elves who were here seemed young and happy. But Eragon didn’t get much time to analyse them for he was tired from the constant travels and so chose to rest. He was shown to a hut with thatched roof. The hut was peculiar for it was built around a huge Oak tree. The trunk of the tree that took up the bulk of the inside, served as the shelf and the bed. It had been sung into shape, Eragon could guess.

When he lay down on the cot, he was greeted with a special view: the stars and leaves above was so clearly visible as if he had been lying on a roofless ground. He smiled slightly thinking of the ingenuity of the elves. They truly deserved their name as the fair folk not just for their physical features but for their genius at setting new standards of luxurious yet harmless life. Their way of life had that calming effect on him which couldn’t be achieved even among the truest and deepest of friends in the Varden. A mild creaking sound was heard as Saphira landed atop the tree’s largest branch.

‘What are you trying?’, he asked as he could feel the tension in the tree’s system at having to hold the huge weight of Saphira.

‘This stupid tree seemed strong enough.’, Saphira said in a frustrated voice. When the creaking became a little more louder, Saphira cursed in his mind, ‘Giant brute can’t even hold my weight.’

It kindled a side of Eragon that rarely showed itself to the outer world of late: mirth. He laughed out aloud.

‘Oh, Saphira… Whom do you call a giant? Haven’t you seen your reflection lately? Even the Menoa shall have to strain to hold you atop her.’, he called out happily to his dragon. Saphira snorted in mock-depression and flew down from the tree, evoking another bout of creaking from it and tearing a part of the roof as she did so.

‘Well, atleast now the elves won’t be singing your praise.’, Eragon said.

‘Hmmm, you are in some mood, little one. Anyway, they will never ever stop praising me for my beauty exceeds any of the puny lodgings they build.’, Saphira replied playfully.

'Vanity!!', Eragon protested although in his mind he knew that Saphira was right for who or what in the whole of Alagaesia was as beautiful as her, the daughter of the wind and the ruler of the skies?

In such good moods, rider and dragon passed into the realm of dreams to get the much needed rest.

*   *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

Fifteen elves of various ages stood at the front of a great gathering at the centre of the town of Kirtan. They were the ones who had expressed their wish to be a rider. The other elves, even though weren't too interested in being a rider, were excited nevertheless. There was a constant murmur in the crowd ever since the egg was displayed to the elves. Although the elves maintained the decorum that was expected of them at such sober gatherings, they seemed unable to control their excitement. Eragon had rarely seen such excited elves except when they revelled in their magic and Faelnirv. As much as they respected him and admired Saphira he knew that they still considered him an outsider - a human. The green egg had now raised the prospect of an elf being a rider and that gave them much to cheer.

Kirtan was nothing like Osilon. In fact, it was the direct opposite of Osilon, what with all the young and bubbling elves and experimentally-built homes. Eragon liked this city much more than he did Osilon, although, he wasn't in any shape or mood to partake in the revelries of the elves. He wasn't comfortable with such things as socialising and merry-making with anyone else other than Saphira. He still felt insecure about the world around him, a trait he had accepted to be a norm with him ever since he returned to the Varden after his cruel captivity.

Eragon stood leaning against a tree behind Arya and Saphira who stood in front of the gathering, ready to present the egg for 'touching'. Arya spoke of the historical importance of the retrieval of the egg and the need for absolute certainty to be a rider for though it was customary to present eggs to all children in the heydays of the riders, the eggs were never presented to an adult for fear of proper relation between the rider and the dragon. She then spoke of how important the mental contact between the rider and dragon was and the risk of failing which would magnify due to gaps in knowledge about each other.

Two elves who had volunteered to be chosen as a rider stood and bowed respectfully before the gathering. Then one of them said, "We beg the pardon of this assembly for backing away from our volunteering. We heard what Drottningu spoke and we are not entirely sure if we could hope to be good riders. All we wanted was to fight Galbatorix. But as much as we have that ambition, we are not comfortable with sharing our life's secrets with anyone; be it a dragon or an elf. We don't want to disrupt the life of the last dragon of all existence. Our devotion to the dragons go far beyond our hatred towards Galbatorix."

The gathered elves appreciated the two of them for their 'sacrifice'. Arya looked on dejectedly. Eragon's feeelings mirrord Arya's. This was the problem with the elves. They never give up their mind to others to control as is expected in a rider-dragon combine. But Eragon could not find fault with them. After all, he himself was reluctant about sharing his deadly secrets with Saphira just days ago. It was just unfortunate that the elves who respected dragon, probably more than they did their own kin, could not become riders.

'Atleast they are open to accept their shortcoming. That is a positive.', Saphira said.

Eragon wasn't about to accept that the elves need for privacy was a 'shortcoming', but he didn't feel like arguing with Saphira about the matter. So he just greeted her comment with silence.

Arya pronounced the 'touching' open and one by one the elves came forward to try their luck with the egg. The egg though remained as unmoved by their presences as a rock before a gentle breeze. It kept on looking for the 'one' as Glaedr interpreted the egg-dragon's feelings. Arya found nothing that would give them hope too and hence the ceremony that had begun with so much merriness came to a sombre end. Arya thanked the elves who had graced the occasion with their presence in a less than emphatic way. It was just a formal thanking, as was evident from her emotionless voice and face.

Rakshana, the ruling lady of the city came up to the raised ground and announced, "This occasion shouldn't end in such low spirits. It afterall, is only the second time in a hundred years that we have had such a happy occasion - the presenting of a dragon egg. Even in the scale of the elves, it is a rare occasion and hence should be given its due, whether the egg hatched or not." She paused a while and looked at Arya as if to confirm her notion. But Arya as always had a blank expression on her face. So the ruling lady simply said, "I would like to invite the dragon rider to duel with me in a public match up." After a while and like an after thought, she added, "I believe that the display of the Shadeslayer's prowess would cheer us up."

Eragon was caught off-guard. He hadn't expected to take any part in the ceremony. He liked to stay away from the spotlight and that was why he had stood away from even Saphira during the two presenting ceremonies. Now that he was pulled into spotlight by an elf, a ruling elf nonetheless, he had to comply.

Eragon moved forward and said "I accept", not a trace of any emotion on his face. He actually didn't feel anything. He had fought far too many men to feel anxious about a match-up against some unknown elf.

He was lent a sword from the armoury; he had left Brisingr at his lodging for he felt no need to carry his weapon in an elven city. His hunting knife was the only weapon that he kept with him always. It was his way of remembering his earlier life and respecting his uncle Garrow; carrying a crude human weapon made by his uncle out of love when he had in his possession the finest of all weaponry: human, dwarven and elven.

The elves had rearranged themselves to form a circle around him and Rakshana. Arya and Saphira stood at the forefront of the gathering. When Eragon went near them, Arya murmured, "Brace yourselves." Eragon looked at her peculiarly for a moment. Her face had turned back to the stony expression and she didn't explain why she asked him to 'brace'. Confused, he moved away.

'Fight well, little one', Saphira offered her wishes as he stood face to face with the elf. Rakshana spoke the words for blurring her sword tip and Eragon followed suit.

Soon they were circling each other like tigers measuring up the opponent. To Eragon, their movement eerily reminded of his encounters with his father during the early days of his swordsmanship training. The elf-lady had the same kind of balance and footwork that Brom had. She even held her sword as his father did.

Wanting to push such thoughts about his father away, Eragon lunged forward, his sword held horizontally so that he could aim at Rakshana's ribs. But the elf was fast enough to move out of the way and somehow bring her sword down towards his back. Eragon hastily brought his sword up in defence and managed to parry the sword with a ugly-looking move. The elf stayed on offensive, trying to cut through his defences.He had to stretch his defensive skills to its limit to ensure that he didn’t lose the fight. It didn't help that he was not adept with the sword that he was using; a borrowed elven sword.

Finding that the traditional method of swordplay would always keep him in the defensive, Eragon resorted to improvisation. He saw the elf bringing her sword in a fine arc towards his throat and instead of ducking under the sword, he jumped over it. The move was risky and it had its effect on him: he lost his balance. But the elf was so surprised that her flurry of attacks ceased. Eragon using the opportunity, slashed at her legs. But she was still fast enough to move away from him. But she lost her balance in the move and Eragon taking advantage of the rare opening, entered into a series of complex strikes. The elf, at first, seemed incapable of defending after her slip and he could graze her shoulder twice. But she soon picked up and matched him blow for blow.

After a while, it was not the case of anyone clearly having the upper hand. Whenever Eragon was on the offensive, Rakshana found a way to wrest back the advantage to her side and vice versa. This way the fighting went on and on. Eragon gave his all so that he could finish off the match. But the elf was no mere sword-wielder. She always seemed capable of defeating him as much as he seemed capable of winning over her.

Eragon enjoyed the experience for it had been long since he had had such a superb match-up with another sword-wielder as talented as him. He had experienced this feeling last when he and Murtagh crossed swords during their long journey towards Gil’ead from Dras-Leona. But he could say that he was slightly out-matched by this elf unlike when Murtagh and he fought(The half-brothers were simply mirror images of each other when it came to talent of sword-wielding).

He could barely hold against this elf. As time passed, his limbs started aching due to over-exertion. But he didn’t budge to it. He was determined not to lose to the elf. It had been so long since he had lost a sword-fight.

Thus Eragon put on extra effort as he would on a real battle-field. His speed caught the elf off-guard and her movements became more and more defensive. Just when Eragon was feeling that he could go for the kill, a strong gust of wind came along and dust was thrown into his eyes. He blinked for a second only to find that his sword was knocked over from his hand and a sword pointed at his neck. How the elf was fast enough to or prepared enough to take advantage of the slight diversion of Eragon, he would never know. But he stood defeated in a sword-fight for the first time after he got his elven capabilities.

A huge round of applause brought his concentration back to his surroundings from the sword pointed at this throat.

“Well competed, Shadeslayer. It has been long since I have faced such a worthy opponent.”, Rakshana said lowering her sword from his throat.

Eragon nodded in acknowledgement. “You have a knack with the sword, I see. It has been long since I lost a sword-fighting match-up. Not that I faced many worthy opponents. Anyway I had a great time.”, he said. Although he accepted the elf’s victory over him, it irked him that he, son of Brom – the slayer of Morzan and slayer of Durza, should lose against some random elf. A sudden doubt nabbed his mind and cluttered his calmness: ‘How can I defeat Galbatorix, when I can’t even beat an elf?’ So he moved away from the centre with a quick nod of his head to the crowd and went towards Saphira seeking solace in her presence. ‘You fought well, little one.’, she said. When he remained unresponsive, she said, ‘Perhaps, once in a while, somebody has to remind us that we are not unbeatable.’

‘Well, I have been constantly reminded of that by Galbatorix.’, Eragon shot back. Saphira simply ignored his angry mood and snaked her neck down to face his face. She sent warm feelings of love and happiness through their link and tried to heal his mind of the rage that threatened to break his cool manners before the elves.

Arya was smiling slightly at him. It flared up his embarrassment and anger. “What?”, he asked her.

“I did warn you.”, she said. Only then did Eragon remember Arya’s words: ‘Brace yourselves’ before the start of the fight.

“Well, that was hardly a warning.”, he murmured in irritation.

“Don’t be so frustrated Eragon. You should be proud that you could hold this well against her. Rakshana is the best in the art of sword-wielding. Many a great riders have lost against her, I have heard. If it is any comfort to you, I too have duelled her and lost.”, Arya said lightly. Eragon looked at her unbelievingly.

“Then why is she not fighting alongside the Queen? Why is she waiting here in the safety of the forest?”, he asked.

“We are not fools to believe that Galbatorix would be complacent to let us attack and capture his empire without retaliation, Eragon. Elves are fighting in the open and if ever Galbatorix manages to capture one elf then the entire Du WeldenVarden would be in immediate danger. We need each city’s elite warriors and rulers to rebuke any such attacks. Keep this in mind Eragon: If the Varden is ever in need of falling back, only the Du Weldenvarden could provide them with the required cover against Galbatorix. Our secrecy is the greatest weapon against Galbatorix when he decides to wipe-out his opponents. It is the harsh reality that we must live with.”

Arya had spoken with a lot of poise that her normal façade of calmness left her face to be replaced with the real emotions that crossed her mind: fear, determination and frustration. Eragon himself felt waves of cold fear flit through his mind as Arya spoke those words. The thought of Galbatorix torturing an elf left him shaking inwardly. The evil king wouldn’t even care about the elf’s mind as he did about Eragon’s. He would just try to tear apart the secrets from the elf’s mind whatever such an encounter would do to the elf.

“I understand”, he said coldly, a tone that anyone would take as offensive. But not Arya. She just nodded at him and her eyes showed him that she understood his mind and thoughts perfectly and that she didn’t hold anything against him for his cold reply.

Rakshana, who was too tired from the fight herself, called for the attention of all the people. “This has really been a happy evening for the people of this town. Hope has rarely been a part of our lives for the past hundred years. I am proud to have led Kirtan through these dark times. But in the last few years, due to the efforts of the Varden, the dwarves and our young princess some sort of purpose has been established. The joining of the dragon rider, Eragon gave us the first glimpse of hope after years and years of waiting for a rider to the mighty Saphira Bjarstkular. Now we face the same kind of happily anxious waiting to get a rider for the beautiful emerald egg. The citizens of our city have been unfortunate. But I am sure that the dragon will eventually find its rider in larger cities. And we will soon have another dragon among us. I crave to see the day when dragons roam the land as they did before the fall. This shall be a start.”

She paused for a while and then continued, “I hope you enjoyed the duel between me and the Shur’tugal. He is a swordsman of rare talent. I will say this openly: I had my doubts about Eragon Shur’tugal’s prowess even after his extraordinary feats. But now I am convinced. Saphira has chosen well. If his powers with the sword were any indication of his magical and mental powers then he will be the one best suited to clean this land of the slime of Galbatorix.”

The overwhelming praise had its effect on Eragon. His anger and frustration turned to determination. When people put their faith in him; when people believed in him, he couldn’t stay angry at his own disabilities. But the feeling wasn’t pronounced. He could easily hide it behind the emotionless façade that he always maintained in the public. He simply bowed his head slightly in respect at her words and went back to doing what he always does: listen and analyse the surroundings calmly without showing what his feelings were on any matter. But in his mind, a blind confidence that he could get rid of Galbatorix built itself strongly.

“I, on behalf of our town wish Arya Drottningu, Saphira Bjarstkular and Eragon Shur’tuagl success in their quest to find the rider of the dragon egg.”, Rakshana said. Arya acknowledged the wish with a curt nod of her head. The gathering thus came to an end, yet again in failure: no rider was found for the dragon in the egg.

Gradually the elves started moving away from the ground. Feeling no need to stay Eragon went up to Rakshana and thanked her for the orderly arranging of the presenting ceremony and took leave. Saphira followed him while Arya stayed back to talk with Rakshana whom she said was an ‘old’ friend of hers.

Author's note:

Looks like Blogger has turned unreliable. I posted the 44th and 45th chapters on 12th May and both were just gone on the 13th. Then after a struggle of 25 hours the 45th came back but the 44th never came. Luckily I kept a copy of the 44th and 45th chapters with me on my hard disk. So the 44th will now be posted after the 45th.

Anyway, I wrote both chapters to be a single one, but found that the title I chose was not matching with the events in the chapter. So I divided it into two chapters, giving the second part a new title. As 45th is now already online, thanks to the people at Google, I am posting the 44th chapter now. Pleade bear with the inconsistency.

Hope you got why I had a chapter like this at this juncture. A filler. But containing a lot of value as regards to the story. Hope you got the hints spilled all over the chapter. Read and review please!!