C
Chai
Guest
It was sometime early morning when an elf had woken Amarose out of her comfortable slumber, bringing a message that she should visit the Hall of the Elders. Immediately. Since the fall of Galbatorix, the Eragon had established a new age of Riders, consisting of elves, humans, dwarves, and urgals alike. Between the eggs that Vrael and Oromis had saved, plus the eggs that Saphira and others had sired, Amarose had been one of the few humans within the century to receive the honor of becoming a Rider. Her dragon, named Veravada, hatched to be a deep, rich violet female. Though the dragon lacked the bulkiness and sheer muscle mass of most other dragons, she made up for it by being excellent in the art of flying.
Amarose spent only a few minutes making herself presentable before heading down to the the Hall of Elders, looking at the still dark sky in minor annoyance. But however annoyed she was, she knew Eragon's reasoning for summoning her. It wasn't the first time he would be giving her a lecture on her behavior. She pondered what it would be about; her fight with the Urgal girl, the trick she played on one of the new apprentices, or the mistake she made during one of her uses of the ancient language that caused a man's tongue to be permanently attached to the roof of his mouth. She wasn't the least bit sorry for the last one, seeing as he was insulting Veravada. The girl's dragon followed along behind her, sending images of the Council threatening to take away their Rider status.
"Impossible, Vera," Amarose answered out loud. "I may not be as refined as the lot of them, but I am no Galabatorix. And they know that no matter what, I am still, ultimately, allied with the Riders in all that they do. We just...we just like having our bit of fun." She grinned and opened the door to Eragon's hall, awestruck by the size and ornate decor. This was the first time she was summoned by all the Elders. Usually, Eragon pulled her aside and talked to her privately. "Eragon-elda," she said, bowing her head in respect. "You wanted to see me?"
"Yes, yes, child..." Whatever he said after that moment seemed to trail off in Amarose's mind. She was looking at him, nodding in agreement, though her mind was elsewhere. In her mind, she exchanged various commentary with Veravada on the age of some of the Elders. Some were elvish, others human, one was Urgal and the other a dwarf. They all had to be close to a century old, and Eragon and Saphira were probably older still.
"...Amarose, do you not understand the gravity of your actions? Amarose? Amarose." Eragon frowned. "Listen, child."
The young woman, only 19 years of age, peeked out from under her honey-brown locks of hair, not in shyness but in another, less indentifiable way. "Yes, ebrithil, I understand. I am sorry. It will not happen again." Her blue eyes, so light in pigment that the color of her irises neared purple, connected with Eragon's own brown eyes and she grinned sheepishly, looking away. She knew not what she was apologizing for, and she was sure Eragon knew just the same. Her 5'6" stature seemed to shrink in on itself under the scrutiny of the council, and she sensed Veravada experiencing the same sensation.
"Look at her, she doesn't listen and shows no remorse! Another Galbatroix, that one!" screeched one of the Elders, the Urgal male.
No, that is not the case. I can sense it in her dragon, Saphira interjected, peering into Veravada's eyes and blowing a small puff of smoke into the air. They are a worthy pair but they have little regard for our common moral expectations. They seem to need a more substantial action in their lessons.
"Yes," Eragon continued, "and for this reason, Saphira and I have decided that starting today, you are to travel to Alagaesia. Learn all that you can about the Riders and their history. Talk to the elves. The dwarves. They will tell you things that are not written in any of these scrolls and books here. And to make sure you don't run off and get into any sort of irreparable trouble, I have called a trustworthy individual to accompan you. He should be here now, actually." Eragon gestured to the door, and Amarose turned to see who would accompany her on this journey.
Amarose spent only a few minutes making herself presentable before heading down to the the Hall of Elders, looking at the still dark sky in minor annoyance. But however annoyed she was, she knew Eragon's reasoning for summoning her. It wasn't the first time he would be giving her a lecture on her behavior. She pondered what it would be about; her fight with the Urgal girl, the trick she played on one of the new apprentices, or the mistake she made during one of her uses of the ancient language that caused a man's tongue to be permanently attached to the roof of his mouth. She wasn't the least bit sorry for the last one, seeing as he was insulting Veravada. The girl's dragon followed along behind her, sending images of the Council threatening to take away their Rider status.
"Impossible, Vera," Amarose answered out loud. "I may not be as refined as the lot of them, but I am no Galabatorix. And they know that no matter what, I am still, ultimately, allied with the Riders in all that they do. We just...we just like having our bit of fun." She grinned and opened the door to Eragon's hall, awestruck by the size and ornate decor. This was the first time she was summoned by all the Elders. Usually, Eragon pulled her aside and talked to her privately. "Eragon-elda," she said, bowing her head in respect. "You wanted to see me?"
"Yes, yes, child..." Whatever he said after that moment seemed to trail off in Amarose's mind. She was looking at him, nodding in agreement, though her mind was elsewhere. In her mind, she exchanged various commentary with Veravada on the age of some of the Elders. Some were elvish, others human, one was Urgal and the other a dwarf. They all had to be close to a century old, and Eragon and Saphira were probably older still.
"...Amarose, do you not understand the gravity of your actions? Amarose? Amarose." Eragon frowned. "Listen, child."
The young woman, only 19 years of age, peeked out from under her honey-brown locks of hair, not in shyness but in another, less indentifiable way. "Yes, ebrithil, I understand. I am sorry. It will not happen again." Her blue eyes, so light in pigment that the color of her irises neared purple, connected with Eragon's own brown eyes and she grinned sheepishly, looking away. She knew not what she was apologizing for, and she was sure Eragon knew just the same. Her 5'6" stature seemed to shrink in on itself under the scrutiny of the council, and she sensed Veravada experiencing the same sensation.
"Look at her, she doesn't listen and shows no remorse! Another Galbatroix, that one!" screeched one of the Elders, the Urgal male.
No, that is not the case. I can sense it in her dragon, Saphira interjected, peering into Veravada's eyes and blowing a small puff of smoke into the air. They are a worthy pair but they have little regard for our common moral expectations. They seem to need a more substantial action in their lessons.
"Yes," Eragon continued, "and for this reason, Saphira and I have decided that starting today, you are to travel to Alagaesia. Learn all that you can about the Riders and their history. Talk to the elves. The dwarves. They will tell you things that are not written in any of these scrolls and books here. And to make sure you don't run off and get into any sort of irreparable trouble, I have called a trustworthy individual to accompan you. He should be here now, actually." Eragon gestured to the door, and Amarose turned to see who would accompany her on this journey.