For Alagaesia: 76. Destiny comes calling

For days after the rather unpleasant meeting with Arya, Eragon reverted to staying put in the Crags. Saphira too did not bother him this time around. She was still quite angry on Arya for breaking Eragon’s hand as she did.

‘Don’t fight with her over it.’ Eragon warned her. ‘You know how she is. And what I did is sure to have made her angry. I am actually glad that she vent her anger on me rather than on someone else.’

‘Only you have to praise your elf.’ Saphira replied exasperated. ‘She is an impossibly stubborn alfa and if I had my way I would break that ego of her before you meet with her again.’

‘You know it has as much probability of happening as I leaping over the highest peak of the Beors.’

‘I know. Still…’ Eragon was surprised to find a measure of amusement in Saphira’s thoughts.

‘If you want fun, Saphira, please make fun of me as you always do or try burning a hole in the stone of broken eggs. Leave Arya alone.’

‘How possessive you are little one! And here I was thinking you loved me more than her.’

‘Don’t attach degrees and rankings to love’ He snapped.

‘Point taken.’ Saphira replied merrily. She seemed to be in a happy mood and he let her be.

Glaedr heard about Arya’s actions and grumbled to himself that the princess had always been stubborn from childhood. Eragon could not decide if he had the blessings of Glaedr in pursuing Arya’s love. He thought of asking his master directly but the golden dragon did not give him the opportunity to ask, seeing as he dropped the topic of Arya thereafter. So the two of them – master and student – began going over the history of Alagaesia again.

It was a good way of passing time and it provided more knowledge to Eragon than he had hoped to accumulate from it. He learned many new and shocking secrets about magic, some of which were new even to Glaedr and they experimented on those things with a piousness one would attach only with the faithful.

He was surprised to read about the camaraderie that existed between humans and elves before the fall. It seemed that the two races had gained a lot from each other than they cared to admit in terms of culture. He had earlier searched for tales of love between elves and humans and had been disappointed since not more than two pairs existed in the close to eight hundred years of coexistence. But now the various tales of friendship between members of the two races surprised him. The elves and humans were natural companions during adventures, each smoothing out the other’s shortcomings.

The dwarves weren’t always lovers of the underground as he had thought. They had lived for thousands of years on the surface tending to plants much like humans and elves. It was only when the Hadarac began spreading did they find the underground endearing and since then had made it their sole home. The description fit well with what Eragon had seen in the temple of Celbedeil.

The urgals had once lived peacefully with the other races, content with fighting only among themselves for superiority. It was the arrival of humans that had forced them to turn hostile against other races. The humans started to drive the urgals out of their lands and it irked them to no end.

The dragon-dwarf enmity was well documented in the dwarven memory. But there also existed a time when dwarves had felt pity on the dragons and had provided asylum to them during the Du Fyrn Skulblaka.

The hermit who had collected the text would have been a great man, Eragon thought. To have been dedicated to his work as if it was the sole purpose of his life! If the dwarves had their Isidar Mithrim and the elves had their Menoa tree, then the humans had the Domia abr wyrda to be proud of.

‘Indeed. Remember, Eragon, that the humans had only a short span of eight hundred years to create an impact on this land unlike the elves and dwarves who have had thousands of years. It is amazing that your race could achieve so much in so short a span of time.’ Glaedr said.

It was like this that his days went: constantly discussing and learning new things from Glaedr and having odd conversations with Saphira. One morning, as he settled down with Domia abr wyrda in his hands, Saphira’s voice filled his head. She sounded afraid and that got Eragon’s attention. She was never afraid. Her message was this: ‘You must come to Tialdari Hall. Now.’

Frowning physically, Eragon asked, ‘What has happened, Saphira?’

‘Bring Glaedr too,’ was Saphira’s only reply.

He needed answers to his questions but Saphira’s fear drove him. He explained in short to Glaedr what had transpired and pushing the golden eldunari into a bag, he took off towards the centre of Ellesmera.

He usually liked running alone. But this run from the Crags of Telnair to the Tialdari Hall drained him completely for Saphira’s emotions constantly attacked him. She would not say him what the issue was but she couldn’t control the fear and anger that leaked through their soul-bond to him.

When he reached the Tialdari hall, he found Indra and Saphira standing in a huddle looking at something below them. He realised only lately that Arya too was present there. Her petite frame was entirely hidden by Indra. Nobody spoke to him when they saw him.

As he drew near, Eragon saw that Arya held an eagle in her hands. She was speaking to it in the ancient language and from the few words he caught her saying he understood that she was reassuring it that everything would be alright and that it could live and hunt near Ellesmera from then on.

He creased his eyebrows in frustration. What did he have to do with an eagle? And what did Arya and the dragons have to do with it in the first place?

“Saphira! What is going on?” He asked out loud wanting to gain the attention of Arya as well seeing as she would not speak to him. But Arya did not mind him.

Saphira craned her neck and showed him something on the table a little ways away. There were two mirrors on the table and each one was showing a different setting. Even as he watched the mirrors curiously, Islanzadi appeared in one of them.

“Arya,” he heard the queen call. Arya turned around towards the mirror and let the predator in her hand go. The eagle looked tired as he flew off into Ellesmera’s trees.

“Mother.” Arya acknowledged the queen.

Eragon arched his eyebrows in a fine ‘V’. It was not always that Arya called the queen, ‘mother’. Daughter and mother spoke nothing thereafter and the queen acknowledged him by just nodding her head. The two elves kept looking into one another’s eyes and Eragon suspected that the mother and daughter were speaking using some secret sign language. But it was all odd. Nothing seemed to be in place.

While he was wondering about the odd behaviour of Arya and Islanzadi, Saphira, quite unexpectedly, craned her neck down and rested her head on his shoulders. It was like she needed his support.

‘Saphira, please tell me what is going on?’ Eragon pleaded.

‘Little one, it is Galbatorix.’ Saphira replied her voice trembling.

Galbatorix? What had he done? What was happening? He was at a loss. He needed to know but nobody seemed to share knowledge with him.

‘He attacks.’ Glaedr’s deep worry-laced voice rumbled in his mind.

“What?” Eragon yelled in denial. “No. He… won’t.”

Islanzadi, Arya and Indra all turned towards him hearing his traumatised sound. A myriad of emotions played out in Arya’s eyes before a mask of impassiveness covered them all. It was as if she had, for a moment, forgotten that he did not exist for her. But her mother looked openly sympathetic, although she didn’t say anything. The queen probably thought no amount of convincing would make Eragon believe that the inevitable was already happening; that Galbatorix, the usurper had decided that the time had come to crush the rebellion. He had got what he wanted didn’t he? He had lured the elves and dwarves out and had found out their hideouts.

All that remained for Galbatorix now was to march on the Varden, crush them and then turn towards the dwarves, massacre them and finally walk into the last bastion of free peoples; into Du Weldenvarden and bring the elves down to their knees. Of course the elves would put up a valiant fight, but it would only result in the death of more elves than necessary. This whole rebellion had been silly. If anything, it served Galbatorix’s purpose perfectly.

In contrast to the elves, Indra shocked him with his reaction. The green dragon’s eyes met his and the dragon conveyed a kind of empathy through their mental link that made Eragon feel whole – as if there was another being in the world that felt and saw things as he did.

‘I am afraid, Eragon.’ Indra mewled, speaking to him for the first time in three weeks.

Eragon blinked trying to figure out if he was in the middle of one of his weird dreams. When nothing changed even after he closed and opened his eyes many times, he sighed resigning himself to accept the fact that their end was near. A surge of protectiveness flared in him for everybody around: Arya, Saphira and Indra. He would not let them be killed by the usurper. He would sacrifice himself for their safety. He placed a hand on Indra’s face and whispered to him, ‘Don’t worry Indra, I will protect you.’

Arya sharply turned towards him when he said it, anger dancing in her eyes. She looked like a fierce goddess to him. Even now, she refused to say anything but her expression told him that she did not want to be protected by anybody. He knew she didn’t want him to but he would try to protect her all the same.

“Eragon?,” called one of the mirrors. Hearing Roran’s voice he dashed towards the mirror. When he laid eyes on the room visible in the mirror, he saw Orik, Orrin and Garzhvog flanking Roran. All four of them had the same expression plastered on their face: fear mixed with disbelief. None of them tried to speak anything. And he couldn’t fault them for their hesitation. Anyone would be tongue-tied if they hear that Galbatorix was coming to vanquish them.

“Roran,” Eragon acknowledged his cousin softly. His cousin nodded at him.

“I thank all of you for heeding my call and attending this meet,” Islanzadi said as if they were in a courtesy meeting rather than in an urgent war council. But then there was a minor difference in the Queen’s bearing from her usual stoic and regal appearance. She looked worried.

“Is it really true? Is he marching on us?” Orrin demanded, his voice trembling slightly.

“Yes, King Orrin. My spell casters have confirmed the rumours.” Islanzadi replied. “He marches in the open and his army is approaching at a leisurely pace. There are no ruses and no wards against spying. He wants us to know that he comes.”

Orik, who had been silent till then grunted angrily. “Let him come. Let him come and I will show him how much I have lost because of him.” He roared like a lion unleashing its wrath. Garzhvog seconded the dwarf king, throwing a few abuses in his language at Galbatorix.

Islanzadi listened to them calmly, but said nothing in return. Instead of replying them, she began discussing war strategy, “I have ordered the elven army stationed in Gil’ead to move out already. They are marching to aid the Varden as we speak.”

“What about you? Do the elves deem us important enough at least now to send in their full force?” Orrin asked, sounding angry. The way he held himself showed that he believed that the elves were going back to what they did hundred years ago: withdrawing their major forces back into the safety of Du Weldenvarden.

Islanzadi smiled ruefully at his question and implied meaning. “I will be marching with my forces from Ceunon much as our last King Evandar did during the battle of the fall.” She said.

“No, your majesty, you need not march into battle.” Eragon cut in making Orrin eye him dangerously. Even Islanzadi eyed him as if he had gone mad. Orik and Roran were seen frowning unable to comprehend his idea. Only Garzhvog seemed to understand him for a look of admiration had come up on his face. He, of course, belonged to a race that respected valour and what was more valorous than sacrifice?

“Galbatorix doesn't care about the Varden. All he needs is me and I shall come before he wrecks much havoc.” Eragon explained. He felt Saphira approving his words. That was all he needed. They would fly against the dark king and kill or be killed. That was what they were trained for, anyway.

“No, Lord rider, it is me he wants this time.” Arya asserted. Eragon shivered hearing her speak. It was the first time in three weeks that she was speaking to him. The way she said 'lord rider' sounded almost hostile. She did not look at him when she spoke but rather at an empty chair in the hall.

“I am afraid my daughter is right.” Islanzadi said, her voice showing signs of fear for the first time.

“Then we will deny him his wish.” Eragon responded in a steely voice. Arya threw him a furious glance but said nothing.

“So, you are daughter to the Queen! That is news to me.’ Orrin said barely hiding his annoyance. “Even still, I don’t understand why you deem yourself so important. Would you care to elaborate?”

Indra poked his face forward so that he would be visible in the mirror. Gasps of surprise sounded from the Varden mirror.

“That’s what!” Roran was heard murmuring. Orik simply raised his eyebrow at the symbolic reference that Arya had become a dragon rider.

Orrin on the other hand frowned. “You hid.” He accused them. “Why is it that you trust humans the least, when you yourself are, or were, a human?” The king of Surda asked Eragon particularly.

Saphira’s agitation at Orrin’s accusation was so great that she pushed Eragon aside and blew a torrent of fire at the mirror. Eragon recovered from Saphira’s rage to find that Arya had protected the mirror from being singed by dragon fire.

“This is not the time, Orrin.” The elven princess admonished the young king angrily.

“I am a human, your majesty. If you have any doubts about that you can ask my brother who stands but an arm’s length from you. But as Drottningu said, it is not the time.” Eragon said sounding sedate.

“When will you both be able to arrive in Dras-Leona?” Orik asked to Eragon and Arya, trying to bring in sanity into the discussion.

“As soon as possible.” Arya replied much to the frustration of Eragon. He was not planning on letting her or Indra join him and Saphira. They were too inexperienced and too precious to him.

“Do what you need to do, Eragon-elda. We have absolute trust in you.” Islanzadi said. Eragon suspected that maybe she had seen his displeasure at Arya’s decision to join the battle. He knew that she hated to risk her daughter’s life.

“Arya, I would like it if you will contact me in private once this meeting is over.” The queen informed her daughter. Nobody objected to her. Each one of them knew the importance of family and did not want to interfere in other’s family matters.

 Arya simply nodded her head once in return.

The queen gave further information regarding the movement of Galbatorix, Shruikan and the empire troops so as to help the others prepare accordingly. Orrin seemed to have left his doubting self behind ever since Saphira had snapped at him and provided useful inputs.

Once their battle strategies were set, Eragon promised that he would reach Dras-Leona in three days’ time. Even after discussing strategies for several hours, Eragon could not find any closure. When it came to Galbatorix everyone was at a loss. Nobody knew how to counter him. They decided broadly that none would engage the king directly till the dragon riders arrived.

As the meeting drew to a close and Islanzadi had bid her farewell, Roran said, “Eragon, I need to talk to you alone.”

Orrin and Garzhvog left the room at hearing this without saying much. But Orik hovered around. “Arya, I am glad for you.” He said addressing the elven princess.

“Thank you, Orik.” Arya replied calmly.

“Vanendra, is he?”

“Yes, he is.” Arya confirmed with a nod.

“We call him Indra though. Always referring him as the king of skies may lead to unnecessary growth of ego.” Eragon remarked light heartedly.

Orik and Roran smiled at Indra hearing that. Indra growled low in his throat. But otherwise he remained unmoving in his place. Eragon eyed Arya to see if she reacted to his comment. She seemed not to care at all. An impassive wall had come up on her face.

‘She still ignores me.’ Eragon realised with rising pain. Now that he was going to meet Galbatorix on a battle ground, he did not know how long he had to live and he wanted to share the limited amount of time with Arya. But she did not budge.

‘Tell them why we didn’t share the happiness with them, little one.’ Saphira urged.

Heeding Saphira, Eragon told both his brothers, “I owe you an apology. We hid Indra’s hatching from you all.”

“Oh, leave it, Eragon. You were afraid of Vanen… Indra’s safety. We can understand. We don’t have any reason to doubt you.’ Orik assured.

Eragon smiled at his foster-brother. He really was lucky to have gained somebody like Orik’s friendship.

“I want to thank you Arya and you as well Indra for protecting my wife and child like you did. If not for you, I don’t know where I would be now.” Roran expressed his gratitude for the help rendered by the dragon rider pair in Silthrim.

Arya inclined her head and Indra mimicked his rider.

‘Tell him that your relatives are ours too.’ Indra told Eragon. His thoughts were bordering on annoyance, unlike his words. Eragon assumed that he had failed to convince Arya to repeat his words and hence was angry at her. She was not one to ever say such a thing to Roran, especially after what had happened in Silthrim.

Eragon eyed Arya cautiously. She would surely be angered if he said this out loud. And Indra would be angry if he didn’t. Which eye would one choose if you were told that you need to gorge one out?

‘Why are you seeing her? It is my message not hers.’ Indra demanded angrily. Arya turned around and glared at Indra.

‘Decide between yourselves.’ Eragon suggested.

‘There is nothing to decide. This is a fact. Just tell him.’

When Eragon turned to the mirror, he found that Roran and Orik had become aware of the tension between them. He cleared his throat and looking apologetically at Arya said, “Indra wants you to know that he would always be glad to help my relatives.”

‘Not just me. She too.’ Indra complained.

Arya did not react even to that. And her impassiveness did not go unnoticed by Roran. “Is there a problem?” He mouthed.

Eragon shook his head as if to say that it was a topic for later discussion. If Arya saw what was happening between the cousins, she didn’t show it.

“So, Roran, you seem to have something to discuss with your cousin in private. I will be going then.” Orik announced. “I am happy to have met you Indra.” He said as he moved away from the mirror. Eragon raised a hand in farewell to his foster-brother.

Arya nodded her head at Roran once and tried to leave. But Eragon directly addressed her and said, “You know you can stay and hear us Arya.” He wanted her to at least be near him. He was going to die, for all he knew, in two days’ time!

Arya threw him a deadly stare and left the spot without saying anything.

‘I apologise for her conduct, Eragon. She is being a fool and she will realise it soon.’ Indra hummed in his mind as he made to follow Arya.

When Arya and Indra were both out of sight, Roran asked, “Is something amiss?”

“It is nothing important,” Eragon tried to stonewall the topic.

“You are not on speaking terms.” The elder cousin observed.

“That we aren’t.”

“What happened?”

Eragon sighed. “I told her that I love her.”

Roran nodded, understanding the reason behind the issue. He was of course well aware of what had happened when Eragon tried to propose his love earlier. After a period of silence, Roran spoke again, “Don’t come here, Eragon.”

“Roran…” Eragon began saying but was interrupted by his cousin, “Galbatorix will kill you.”

“I have no other choice.” Eragon snapped giving in to his fears. He was indeed afraid of dying although he knew he was marching against Galbatorix for the safety of people who cared for him and trusted in him.

“I will do something, Eragon. Don’t come, please.” Roran pleaded.

Eragon smiled ruefully. “I am not your little brother anymore Roran. You can’t protect me now. I am too far gone.”

“But you are! You are my only brother and I won’t let you die.”

“Roran, please understand,” Eragon begged, “It is not about us anymore. It is the fate of all free people of Alagaesia that rests on our shoulders.”

Roran did not respond, at least through words. His eyes though said a different tale. He looked lost and angry.

“Brother, you have work to do and I have to prepare for the journey. I will join you in two days.” Eragon said. Roran nodded his head and Eragon dropped the scrying spell with an aching heart.

Saphira and Eragon went back to the Cargs of Telnair for they had to gear up for war. Once they arrived at the Crags, Saphira went away for a short hunting trip reasoning that she needed to be strong to fly swiftly to Dras-Leona. As he lost contact with Saphira, Eragon felt his hands shaking as if he had suddenly been pushed into a cold and dark dungeon. He held his hand in his other hand, but to no avail. The shivering would not subside. Although, he did not feel any fear on the surface of his mind, it seemed that deep down he was not ready to face Glabatorix.

Glaedr noticed Eragon’s sorry state through their mental link. Eragon expected to be admonished by his master for shirking away from his duty. But to his surprise, Glaedr whispered lovingly in his mind, ‘Hatchling, meld your mind with mine.’

Eragon obeyed his master without question. The golden dragon’s warmth filled him gradually and he felt the shivering subside.

“I am not a worthy student, master.” Eragon bemoaned as he strapped Brisingr to the belt of Beloth, the wise.

‘Because your fear overcame you?’

He nodded his head in response, embarrassed to admit it through words.

‘Do you remember how I was seven months ago, when Oromis died?’ Glaedr asked understanding his need for silence. ‘All of us feel fear and grief Eragon. It differentiates us from the dead. If you aren’t afraid of Galbatorix, it means you are dead.’

‘You don’t hold it against me then?’

‘What do you think, I am? A monster? Of course, I don’t hatchling. Whatever happens in the coming battle, know that you will have a proud teacher.’

Eragon nodded, gratitude filling his mind. From then on he worked efficiently collecting supplies for his journey to Dras-Leona. He nearly emptied his collection of wild fruits and berries as he was planning on living on them for the next two days. Stopping, even for food, would only cause more damage to the Varden. He didn’t even want to think of what would happen of Roran, Orik and his other beloved ones who would face the brunt of Galbatorix’s first wave of attack.

Saphira returned, as she had promised in two hours’ time, from her hunting trip. ‘This may very well turn out to be my last hunting trip. I should have taken Indra with me.’ She lamented as Eragon worked about filling her large saddle bag with both their armours. He knew it was a heavy load but he did not want Saphira to face Shruikan without the protection of the dwarven armour.

‘Let us visit them before we leave.’ Saphira said. They had considered the possibility of leaving without informing Indra and Arya wanting to discourage the two of them from following them to battle. But Saphira felt that if they did so, it would only make Arya and Indra more determined to join the battle. Besides they did not know if they would get another chance to lay eyes on their beloved ones.

When the three of them – Saphira, Glaedr and Eragon – went to the Tialdari Hall in search of Indra and Arya to bid their farewells, they were informed that the dragon and rider had gone to their home already. Saphira did not waste time in flying to their old tree house in Ellesmera where Arya and Indra now stayed.

To their dismay, when they reached the old house of Vrael, they found that Indra was waiting outside it, with a saddle strapped to his back. Seeing them approach, he said, ‘Arya is on her way.’

‘To do what?’ Saphira asked suspiciously. Indra gave her a sheepish look and turned away.

So, Arya and Indra were preparing to go to battle. He should have foreseen it. Arya was not one to be left behind. As he was considering ways to dissuade Arya, he saw her coming out of the house. Her flowing black hair was pulled back by a black leather band and she wore her usual battle outfit additionally fitted with Shantiyastra which rested in its age-old scabbard. She nodded at Saphira and looked beyond him.

As Arya prepared to mount Indra, Eragon touched the green dragon’s mind and said, ‘Wait. We need to talk.’

Indra moved away from Arya in response, not allowing her to climb on his back. “There is no need!,” Arya exploded seeing his action.

“There is, Arya.” Eragon said addressing her directly.

She did not reply. Nor did she turn towards him. The only indication that she heard him was her stiff back.

“You don’t have to speak with me Arya. But listen to me.” Eragon pleaded. “Please don’t join this battle.”

She did not even bother to indulge him with a stiff posture this time. As if she had not heard him at all, she tried to walk towards Indra.

His instincts driving him, Eragon jumped forward and grabbed her shoulder, trying to turn her around. She seemed surprised for a split-second. But that was only for a split-second for the next, she caught his wrist and twisted it, nearly breaking his hand in the process. Eragon let her go, but called after her. But she simply ignored him.

Saphira decided that it was time for her to intervene and with her huge forelegs, pushed Arya down to the ground and pinned her there. Indra did not come to Arya’s rescue this time like he did when Arya had broken Eragon’s hand in the training ground, probably because he understood that Saphira was in control of herself unlike then when she was driven by pure rage.

“Let. Me. Go.” Arya said accentuating each syllable dangerously. It was clear that she was near her breaking point. A little more push and she would snap at anybody without caring who it was.

“Please Arya,” Eragon begged, “Just listen to what we have to say for a minute.”

She remained silent. Right; she won’t speak with him. At least she had calmed down. That was a positive.

‘You should probably talk.’ Eragon suggested to Saphira.

Saphira mentally nodded to him and spoke to Arya, ‘Won’t you follow our advice if not as the leaders of the rider order then as your dearest friends?’

“I have warned you before and I am doing now. Friends, family and leaders can’t stand in our way. Don’t try to blackmail us into abandoning our duty.” Arya conveyed her line of thought.

‘Indra has not even seen a full cycle of seasons in Du Weldenvarden. Would you deny him even that?’ Saphira asked.

At this question, Arya hesitated. Eragon sighed, believing that Saphira’s indomitable logic had beaten some sense into Arya’s duty-driven mind. But he did not expect to be shocked as he was by Indra.

The green dragon opened his mind to all present and said, sounding calm and collected, ‘I do not want to see even a day of this world without Saphira to share with.’

Saphira growled low in her throat. But Indra did not back down. He continued: ‘I do not want to beat around the bush, Saphira. Without you this world will be lonely and I don't want to be alone.’

Saphira’s thoughts became distressed. She was running out of ideas to prevent the young dragon-rider pair from going into battle against Galbatorix.

‘You must remain at least for the sake of any future rider who will want training,’ Saphira claimed, making a last desperate attempt.

Hearing this Arya’s eyes shone like they had a light of their own. “Who lord rider? Your brother, Murtagh perhaps?,” asked she to Eragon looking every bit as sarcastic as she sounded.

Eragon winced. Arya had wantonly hurt him. She knew him inside out and was playing with his feelings. Did she have such a cruel side to her as well?

Saphira was not done. Not even after Eragon was insulted like that. She knew that Arya was simply trying to make them allow her to join them. ‘We understand your need to go to battle and your reluctance to stay back when your mother is riding to war. But as a rider you have a responsibility. Didn’t Oromis stay?’

“You don’t know how Oromis was when he decided to stay! I want to avenge him! We won’t wait here for the usurper to come and crush us like mice hiding from an eagle.” Arya bellowed, displaying a kind of rage rarely seen in a person like her.

‘Let me speak to her, hatchlings.’ Glaedr offered.

“The mourning sage’s golden companion wants to talk to you.” Eragon proclaimed as if to a third person. He really was hurt by Arya’s earlier taunt.

When Arya and Glaedr spoke, Eragon struck a conversation with Indra. The green dragon apologised for his rider’s words. ‘She crossed her limits there. But you must understand Eragon. We want to fight alongside you. Without you both, we are nothing.’

‘And if we lose you to Galbatorix?’ Eragon asked back lovingly.

Indra did not reply and Eragon did not press him. They remained silent for a long while. When Arya’s conversation with Glaedr extended for more than half of an hour, Indra grew suspicious. ‘Who is it that she is speaking to?’ He inquired.

‘An old friend.’ Saphira told him.

‘And where is this companion of the mourning sage?’

‘It is not time for you yet to learn about him. Your education is not yet complete Indra… that is why we don’t like you going to battle against Galbatorix.’

Indra murmured something indistinct in his mind probably saying, ‘Then teach me!’ But they did not ask him what he said, lest it created new and unwanted trouble.

Arya, who had closed her eyes shutting out the outside world from her vision and mind while she spoke to Glaedr, reopened her eyes. The rage that had filled her eyes before was gone. She looked a lot calmer but sadder too.

‘She will stay.’ Glaedr informed. Even his master sounded sad. Eragon couldn’t guess what might have transpired between them for the two of them had a long history. Arya had been tutored by Glaedr and Oromis for decades before he was even born.

Arya stroked Indra’s face as she spoke to him. Indra wouldn’t divulge what she was saying him, probably because she asked him not to. Eragon stopped trying to ask when Indra threatened to fly with them.

Even though, Arya had hurt him and refused to speak with him, he waited patiently for her to face him because he wanted to take leave of her properly. But she wouldn’t even turn. She stood facing away from him and resting her entire weight on Indra.

‘Come, Eragon, we must leave.’ Saphira called to him. Then, facing Indra, she said, ‘Wish us luck.’ The green dragon did not say anything but just nodded his head.

Reluctantly, Eragon climbed onto Saphira’s saddle and strapped his legs to it, preparing for the long journey. ‘Shall we?’ Saphira asked.

‘Give me a minute.’ He replied. Saphira let him be. She knew what was going on in his mind and she didn’t want to interfere.

After a few minutes of consideration, Eragon nodded as if assuring himself that he was going to do the right thing. “Arya…,” he called, “Arya, please… look at me. Arya!”

She would not turn. She stood as if she were a statue facing away from him.

“Arya, I love you. I can’t help it,” he said to her back as if it was matter to mourn. A gust of wind blew her flowing hair in intricate patterns making it look like it was reacting to his words.

When Arya did not react even to the confession, he continued, “In one way or another, I have loved you since the moment I laid my eyes on you. Your misery pulled me to you at first, then your power and exotic appearance. But finally, it was you Arya… you with all your flaws and perfections, have bound me to you. I can’t bury this feeling any longer because it has consumed me. It will die only when I die.”

The only indication that Arya heard him was Indra’s reaction to his words. The green dragon craned his neck around Arya and held her close to his warm body, effectively hiding her frame from Eragon.

“Arya… I am afraid that I am going to my death… Please just let me see your face once before I go. You don’t have to say anything to me; just let me see your face, Arya… Please…” He prayed like a faithful devotee would before his favourite deity.

Arya bend down and laid her head on the crook between Indra’s neck and body. But she did not turn as Eragon requested. Indra looked at Eragon sympathetically but he did not force Arya to do what she did not like to.

Saphira, for her part, embraced Eragon’s mind with her own, trying her level best to envelope her conscience around his so as to shield him from the pain of love.

“Fine,” Eragon said, fighting the lump in his throat, “I am sorry I put you in a difficult situation by proclaiming my love before all those elves. I know it would be difficult for you, Arya… I know because… I know you. I am sorry… Please forgive me.”

Whatever he felt like blurting out thereafter did not reach Arya’s ears because Saphira swept them away from her and Indra. As they flew, Indra’s deep and ancient mental voice filled their heads, ‘Return safe, for our sanity’s sake.’

Author's Note:

So what do you think? It turns out that Arya is same as all women in love after all! Why would she torture the man like this? Well, I promise you will find out soon. Again, I had not planned this chapter to have anything about love... but it just happened with the flow. What do you think now that Galbatorix has finally showed up outside his black citadel?