For Alagaesia: 65. Eternally etched in

The sun rose and set, each day, without fail, as if it were its duty to do so even when sick. The winter advanced, forcing the sun to be more and more sick each passing day, but the sun was relentless. It rose even if its heat was not as potent as it would like to be. It gave light, even if for a decreased amount of time.

Ellesmera and the surrounding Du Weldenvarden, caught in a time warp and seemingly eternal had its effect on Eragon and Saphira. After spending six weeks in the leafy city, they cared not about the passage of time. The sun rose and set day after day, but it always felt like their first day in the city.

A week after they had spoken about it, Eragon and Saphira left their tree home to Arya and Indra and settled in Oromis's hut on the Crags of Telnair. Eragon found the vista spread out before him of the sea of trees of the Du Weldenvarden an inspiring sight. Resting in front of Oromis's hut and staring at the forest brought him fond memories of the time he spent at the very same location with Oromis, not so very long ago.

He made it a habit to go to the clearing where he had meditated when training under Oromis each morning. He spent hours there, meditating and developing his concentration powers. He made steady progress, increasing his field of view from a mile or two to half a dozen miles in a matter of a week. He could now listen to the entirety of Ellesmera from his position on the stump in the clearing.

Arya was impressed with his progress in meditation. “I took several years to reach the level of perfection that you have attained in a matter of two years.”, she said.

She also helped him in learning the next stage of Rimgar. It proved to be a vastly taxing exercise. Arya went through the various poses with trained ease while Eragon struggled to match her. He was embarrassed to find that he was no match for her in performing the dance of crane and snakes.

“The perfection in Rimgar comes only with years and years of practise.”, Arya said encouragingly when she saw him turn red, after being unable to perform one immensely difficult move.

Having been shown his place in Rimgar, Eragon could not help but wonder if he would be a match for Arya in wielding the sword. They had practised sword-fighting in short bouts and during those times it had seemed that the two were equals. But Eragon wanted to test himself against her in a legitimate competition.

“Arya, I was wondering if we could train with the sword more often. I feel that it is the most important of our needs right now.”, he said to her.

She obliged and from that day onward they practised swordplay often against each other, on a daily basis. They had no time limits as earlier and fought to the 'death'. Eragon was appalled to find that he was beaten by Arya almost regularly. It didn't help that he felt the few times he beat her was by pure luck.

Glaedr advised him that the problem lay not in his sword-fighting skills but in his mental preparedness. Every time Eragon complained that he was not able to comprehend or predict Arya's moves, Glaedr advised him to spend more time meditating. The golden dragon also guided him in being one-minded – a method where a person is aware of all things around him yet concentrates on one particular thing in full. It was a slightly different – and difficult – version of the meditation that Eragon was used to which concentrated on being aware of all things around the meditating person and being a passive listener.

'You will have to concentrate Eragon. Be aware of your surroundings but concentrate all your efforts on  your opponent. But be prepared to use your surroundings to your benefit. Often times, a fight between equals is decided by the knowledge about the surroundings. Further, use your mind to determine the general mood of your opponent. It will help you predict their moves. Swordplay is one of the very few arts where your instincts prove to be more helpful than being a hindrance. So always follow your instincts.', Glaedr said to him.

He didn't notice it at first, but as the days passed, their swordplay sessions became longer. The results were mostly unchanged – with Arya winning most of the times – but Eragon grew in confidence gradually. A week or two later, their sword-fighting was not always an one-sided affair. Eragon marked Arya as much as she did him.

Now Eragon was faced with another issue. Although he was mentally very well prepared, thanks to Glaedr's tutelage, and was an equal to Arya technically, thanks to Brom's teachings, he found that he became vulnerable as the fights grew old. He simply couldn't endure as long as Arya did. He tired faster and paid the price for faltering in speed.

Glaedr dismissed such things for lack of experience in Rimgar. He said, 'As you get used with Rimgar, you will develop endurance.'

Eragon often became frustrated because he was being marked far too often by Arya and did some fatal mistake in his anger. It was thus that he was defeated decisively by Arya.

'Anger is the biggest enemy in a fight as nuanced and delicate as sword-wielding. Learn to control it.', Glaedr said, 'Rather, fuel your aggression into the details of the art of swordplay. It will yield you results.'

Unbeknownst to Eragon, their fights became ever longer. It was Saphira who brought it to his attention that they were sparring for hours on end without a decisive winner. If those weeks were allowed to progress into months, a time would come when a sparring contest between Eragon and Arya may finish without a winner, both of them unable to continue due to fatigue.

Saphira spent her time training Indra in dragon-lore and flight. She was often proud of her student for she found him a quick learner. Indra learned the various aerobatic manoeuvres and performed them with aplomb. Saphira often compared Indra to Eragon. She called the two of them 'equals'. According to her, Indra shared a lot in common with Eragon. She cited quick learning as one simple example and said that there were a lot more complicated similarities between the two. 'Both of you are impossibly proud of yourselves, for example.', she teased when Eragon pressed her to reveal what else she found in common between them.

'He is bulkier than me and that makes him all the more handsome.', Saphira commented one day.

'Who?', Eragon asked even though he knew full well about whom Saphira was talking.

'Don't get too smart, little one. You may end up being eaten up by one of us.', Saphira threatened him.

'Empty threats.', Eragon dismissed.

'Try me', Saphira growled. Eragon rubbed his palm – where his gedwey ignasia was – against the soft  underside of Saphira's face. Saphira hummed in response forgetting the argument they just had.

The nights were spent counselling with Glaedr and making fairths. It was during such sessions with Glaedr that the elder dragon taught Eragon to control his mind, told him stories and shared him knowledge known only to riders. Eragon learned and shared the rider-secrets with Arya for Arya restrained from having contact with Glaedr lest Indra discover Glaedr. The four of them had decided not to introduce the concept of the heart of hearts to the young dragon. Indra was driven more by instinct than by reason and so was prone to disgorging his eldunari prematurely. Glaedr was sad for not being able to interact with the last of his race, but then he was the one who made the others promise not to divulge his existence to Indra.

Often times, Eragon found himself dreaming about the life he should have lived if not for Saphira as he indulged himself in making fairths of events of import in his life before Saphira appeared to him. He dreamt about Birka, the horse and about Kajal, the girl with a cute smile; he dreamt about Garrow and about what Brom would have done if Saphira had not hatched for Eragon.

It was during one such dreaming and fairth making periods that Arya made a surprise visit to his home.

“I wanted to talk to Glaedr.”, she said and she did. Teacher and pupil talked for a few hours about a lot of things. But again and again their discussion came back to Indra. Glaedr had not asked much about Indra to Eragon or Saphira. But when he spoke with Arya, Eragon could feel the fascination and interest the golden dragon had on Indra. He smiled despite himself.

Arya answered every question that Glaedr threw her way about Indra enthusiastically and Eragon saw the genuine love and care that were on display in the twinkle and glimmer in Arya's eyes when she spoke about her dragon. It was a rare sight, seeing Arya heap praise and complaints on one single living creature. It even made Eragon feel jealous on Indra.

When Arya and Glaedr finally finished their chatter, Eragon felt sad. He had, for some unknown reason, loved seeing Arya as she spoke to Glaedr. It had made him infinitely happy. Maybe it was her happy demeanour or maybe it was the twinkle in her eyes – something made him want Arya not to leave his home. Further, it was not yet time for Saphira and Indra to return from their hunting trip.

As Arya stood to take her leave and Eragon walked her out of his home, Arya's eyes fell on a half-visible fairth that Eragon had made. She stopped in her tracks, turned around towards Eragon and asked, “May I?”

Following her eyes, Eragon saw that she was interested in seeing his fairths. Memories of the last time he made a fairth in the presence of Arya came back rushing into his mind and he shivered slightly. But then he found no reason to reject Arya's request and so said, “Sure, Arya. You may.”

So she walked back into the home and seated herself on a chair in front of the table where he had placed his fairths, closed by a piece of cloth.

Arya lifted the cloth that lay on the table to reveal all the fairths that Eragon had made in the past month. There weren't many since he had taken his time to perfect the setting he wanted in his mind and only then had wrought it on to the slate. She viewed all the fairths in front of her – about twenty in number – for a while and then looked up at Eragon.

He stood politely by her and nodded his head indicating that she could go ahead and examine his work.

The first fairth Arya took in her hands was the image of his first hunt in the Spine. He had pictured the instant when the wolf attacked him at night and he killed it with a sharp stone. It was an exact replica of what his eyes had seen at that moment. It was mostly dark and the wolf's eyes were like two lit up lamps trying to burn whoever was near it. The only part of Eragon that was visible in the image was his hand with the stone. Arya took in the picture for a moment and then asked, “When did this happen?”

Eragon blinked hearing her speak. He had gone back to thinking about that night when he went closer to death than he had ever before and when he killed a living creature for the first time. “It... It was when I was twelve or thirteen. I was a little boy but in my mind, I was a grown-up. I tried chasing a deer and ended up losing my way in the Spine.”, he said.

“The wolf. Its features tell of a hunter that has got his prey. Was it you that it tried to kill?”, Arya asked. She looked paler than usual.

“Yes. It was me.”, he confirmed. “That was the closest I have been to death before Saphira came to me.”

“You have been reckless all along.”, Arya said, this time in a voice that conveyed genuine concern.

“Brom always said so.”, Eragon replied chuckling.

Arya picked up another slate from the table and Eragon found himself staring back at his mother. He could not help but notice the similarities in Selena's eyes and that of Arya's. It made him feel all the more closer to Arya. She was somehow like his mother – sad, kind, beautiful and immensely wise.

“It is my mother.”, he said as Arya simply stared at the picture not asking anything about it. “Brom made this fairth and he had given it to Oromis for safe-keeping.”

“I assumed.”, Arya replied softly. “You have those very same eyes.”

He found it funny that he had just compared Arya's eyes to his mother's. He smiled grimly. 'People who have suffered.', he thought.

“And her smile reminds me of you.”, Arya continued. Eragon had not noticed any such thing. But he was hardly the best judge of himself.

“Just as your mother reminds me of you.”, Eragon said.

Arya raised her eyes from the fairth and looked into Eragon's face. She kept staring at him that he thought he had said something wrong.

But then she spoke softly. “Faolin used to say that.”

Eragon glanced back at Arya. Her thoughts had drifted back to some time she had spent with Faolin, he could say.

“I haven't told you this. But the three of you are so similar.”, Arya said.

Eragon looked at her confused.

“Indra, you and Faolin.”, she explained.

He had already heard that from Saphira; that he and Indra were similar. He looked back at Arya to see her staring at the one fairth that held the image that had changed his life forever.

There was Eragon, in the midst of a burnt down clearing, with a blue dragon egg – Saphira's – in his hand. His face was a mixture of shock and awe. The Eragon in the image looked small and insignificant. The pointed ears and slanted eyes were missing. It was as if he was looking at a younger and insignificant version of himself and he was.

“This moment.”, Arya said and let her words hang.

“I am sorry, Arya.”, Eragon said comfortingly.

“Don't be. You have no part in it. It was I... I who failed.” Arya's miserable tone reminded him of the last time they spoke about it.

“As bitter-sweet as it could get.”, she said softly. “If not for this moment, I wouldn't have lost my friends and the Durza episode would not have happened.” She paused and said in an even softer voice, “Yet I couldn't have met with you without the tragedies of this moment.”

Eragon remained silent. He was sad; immensely so but he kept his peace. How much more conflicting and intertwined could their lives get? Saphira's arrival was in all probability the best moment of his life and yet it had been the most tragic one of Arya's. The euphoria surrounding that moment melted away from his mind, only to be replaced with a blank feeling.

“Perhaps, it is as you said.”, Arya continued. “Perhaps, it was Wyrda's plan for the future.” She paused for a while and then said in a whisper, “It is only that I feel bad to be a part of that future.”

The situation was going out of hand. He had heard Arya's thoughts about this earlier and they were too painful to hear again. “Arya...,” Eragon began only to be interrupted by Arya. “I am grateful that you are alongside me through this, Eragon.”

Eragon stopped whatever he was going to say. Arya had moved on from her stance, if only a little. He was glad to be of help in that revival which, he was sure, was sparked by Indra's arrival.

He smiled slightly at Arya, not certain about what he should say in response. She returned his smile in kind, indicating that nothing had to be said between them. She moved on to the next fairth, one that included his uncle and aunt, a moment from his childhood, that had somehow stayed with him. He and Roran were sitting on Marian's laps while Marian rested her head on Garrow's chest. The four of them sat at the door to their home gazing at the stars. A lamp lit their faces.

Arya smiled at seeing the image. “Your childhood has been adorable.”, she said.

Eragon smiled too. “Yes. I suppose so.”, he replied, completely aware that Arya was comparing her childhood with his.

“You had a mother, a father and a brother.”, she stated.

“Yes. Till when I was eight, I used to call them father and mother. And then my aunt died. She said I was their adopted son on her deathbed. She said I was the son of Selena, my uncle's sister.... the aunt I had heard a little about.”, Eragon reminisced. Unconsciously, his voice had become too grim when he spoke about that particular incident of his life.

“The mother you never met.”, Arya said sadly. After a moment of silence, Arya spoke again, “All I remember of my father is a smile; a distant and fuzzy memory that I have somehow come to associate with my father.”

Eragon remained silent. It was one of those rare moments when Arya spoke about her past and he didn't want to ruin it, although Arya looked like she wanted support and comfort.

“I, at least had a few fairths of him to learn who he was. You have not been as fortunate. I am sorry for having envied your childhood.”, Arya said.

Eragon smiled, a forlorn smile that stopped right in his lips and never reached his eyes. A cruel thought occurred to him. “Somehow, unknown to the two of us, both our lives have been tied together from our births. Galbatorix ruined it.”

Arya jerked her head towards him and met his eyes. There was a fire in the emerald pools that were her eyes that spoke of the determination and drive that had pushed her out of Du Weldenvarden in the first place. “And we will repay Galbatorix for all he did to us.”, she said. The passion in her voice was unmistakable. She wanted Galbatorix dead.

Eragon nodded his head vigorously in acceptance. “We shall and we should. Fate didn't make us riders for nothing.”

“Not for nothing.”, Arya accepted.

The next fairth she took in her hands was an imaginary moment from Eragon's past. Eragon had always wanted to have lived through such a moment, however improbable and impossible it seemed. The roaring Igualda falls and the fading light of the dusk time formed a magnificent backdrop in combination with the dimly lit village of Carvahall. The Anora was in its full glory in the spring on the banks of which Eragon stood waving his hands at someone in the sky surrounded by his father and mother. Flowers of various colours bloomed around the area. Roran, Garrow and Marian were there too; Roran playing with Eragon and Garrow and Marian speaking with Brom and Selena. High above them, in the colourful skies, flew Saphira and Indra at whom Eragon was waving. Oddly, Arya was riding Saphira rather than Indra.

Eragon was nervous about Arya seeing the image. It was a wish he had willed up from the deepest corners of his mind to its surface and thus onto the magicked stone slate as a fairth. Arya stared at it for a long time, making Eragon restless. Would she accept his wish or would she be angry at him – he knew not. Arya wasn't helping either for her face was as emotionless as a fairth-less stone slate. With each passing moment Eragon became more and more fidgety. He even considered turning invisible to escape from the impending wrath of Arya.

And then she blinked and looked up at him. In that instant, he knew that all his anxiety was for nothing. A tiny drop of tear gathered in Arya's eyes. “Eka elrun ono, Eragon-elda. I am honoured.”, she said.

Eragon had no response. He had expected and prepared for many reactions from Arya to the fairth. But gratitude was not one of them. Not even in his wildest dreams would he have dreamt of such a reaction from Arya.

He had nothing to say except repeat what Arya said, “Eka elrun ono, Arya Drottningu.”

The two of them smiled at each other softly.

'What have you been discussing, little one? Your mind seems.... enraptured.', Saphira's voice said in his mind.

“Saphira!!!”, he said startling Arya who was in the process of picking up a fairth from the table.

“She has come back?”, Arya enquired.

“Yes. She is here.”, Eragon confirmed.

“Then I have to go.”, Arya said and stood. The two of them went outside together. Arya greeted Saphira who had just landed on the empty plain outside Oromis's hut.

It was an arrangement that they had made. Arya and Indra were never to visit Eragon and Saphira at the Crags of Telnair for fear of Indra discovering Glaedr.

Saphira returned her greeting warmly. 'Welcome to our humble abode, Argetlam!!', she said, calling Arya by the name 'silver hand'.

The two of them spoke for a short while after which Arya started getting restless.

“I have to leave before Indra comes in search of me here.”, she said. She almost ran from the place thanking Eragon and Glaedr for their time.

Saphira roared out a booming laughter at the sight. 'Never thought I would see the day on which an elf is so time-conscious.', she said.

Arya growled as she left the Crags, but said nothing in return. Even Glaedr laughed at Saphira's words; there was nothing to be said of Eragon – he was laughing his heart out.

'Never have I seen you this happy, little one.', Saphira said as she joined Eragon.

Author's Note:

Ancient language used:

Eka elrun ono – I thank you.

I got the idea for this chapter when I was reading a fan-fiction – a month or two ago – hope you liked it. This has nothing to add to the plot. But it showed how incomplete Eragon's training is and reinforced what a fast learner he is. And it was a nice look back at Eragon's past through Arya's eyes. Wouldn't you agree? And there was that warm and fuzzy feeling inside me when I read it after I finished and so I think it was a fluff too – well, at least it was an attempt at fluff. Tell me what you thought.