A Night in Eternity: Chapter 3

Learning to Live Again

The air was crisp and cold on the cliffs that overlooked the forest and small budding town. The trees and roofs were covered with snow, and with the sun shining in the sky, the world before them seemed to sparkle and glow.

It was something that made Eragon's breath catch.

With a sigh, he tore his eyes away from the sky and settled them on the small gathering at the edge of the mountainside.

There stood six young riders of varying heights and ages. They had only arrived last summer and were currently the newest riders living on the island.

Seeing hatchlings like these always reminds me of you many years ago, came the voice of Saphira. Wide eyed and foolish.

"Oh? I could say them same for the hatchling dragons as well, you ate a lot less when you were their size," Eragon replied before a gush of hot air flew over him.

That wasn't very nice, she sniffed. You should not speak of such things.

He chuckled softly and then felt a hand clap him on the back.

"A reaction from the emotionless leader? What a rare sight to behold after your return from your journey to the east," Murtagh chided as Eragon turned to see his brother, Ismira close behind him.

"Saphira just said something amusing, stop acting like I am made of stone brother," Eragon sighed again as he gathered his furs and cloak around him. "And why are the two of you here?"

"Well, I merely wished to observe Stannis and his teaching methods," Ismira replied, folding her hands. "I'm interested in group teachings too, and since both Gavlin and I are on the council it is something that we should know more about. We didn't have much time before due to our constant travelling in Alagaesia."

Eragon nodded, "I am glad you are taking to this, any rider will be lucky to have you as their teacher and master."

"Thanks Eragon," Ismira smiled.

"I only came to see why you bothered to come out today, Eragon. You have been quiet and shut in your studies since you've returned from the west," Murtagh stated. "Your presence is making them nervous, look, the dwarf is shaking in his boots."

Eragon rolled his eyes before glancing at the shortest of the group to see that the young dwarf Makar was in fact shaking and peeking every so often over his shoulder.

"Maybe he's nervous because you showed up, you don't have the best reputation amongst the students brother," Eragon teased. "Perhaps he's terrified that you'll choose him as an apprentice this summer."

Murtagh's brow furrowed in annoyance, "Is that why you are here, to observe these children to see if you want to train one of them? It has been nearly ten years since you have."

"Perhaps," Eragon mused. "I haven't had the chance to do so yet."

These hatchlings do not take care of their scales as they should, so I hope that you are not considering any, Saphira interrupted, addressing both Murtagh and Ismira as well. They all chuckled as Stannis continued to lecture the riders and their dragons.

"It doesn't matter how well you fight and move on your own, if you don't do it as a unified unit you will easily be defeated, whether it by blade or by nature itself," Stannis instructed while his large white dragon, Jakista, sat curled up behind him. His long pale hair fluttering against the wind as his sea eyes examined the noticeably dimer spirited riders before him.
"Stannis is a half elf right?" Murtagh asked quietly. "I always think he's an elf but then he acts like a human every so often. He's more direct than the tree lovers."

"Yes, he told me his parents met during the war against the empire," Eragon answered.

"Ah, perhaps that is why you like him so much and even trained him, he's like a beacon of hope to you. That there's a chance for you and your elf," Murtagh mused and Eragon had the biggest urge to push him off the cliff.

He would be fine, Thorn would have enough time to catch him.

"That goes for you especially Sarin, you may be graceful like the rest of the elves, but both you and Fetnir are a catastrophe together in the sky. You shame Queen Arya, Fírnen and all of the time you spent under their guidance in Du Weldenvarden before you journeyed to the Dragon's Hold," Stannis continued simply.

The silver haired boy bowed deeply while shouting "Just you wait Master Stannis, Fetnir and I will become the best flyers ever someday!"

A golden dragon rustled a bit from where the dragons sat. A girl laughed and Stannis only scolded the human named Darci.

"Oh, I get it now!" Murtagh whispered excitedly so that only Eragon and Ismira could hear. "You're here to watch the kid who your elf trained. What, are you hoping to see some of her influence shine through the boy?"

"What? No!" Eragon grumbled. "I'm merely passing time until the Winter Council that will be held soon."

"Murtagh, if uncle wished to study riders that the Queen of Elves has trained, I think that there would be better examples than that Sarin boy," Ismira explained. "Actually, isn't Stannis' old student helping him out today? Look, that's her right there! Rider Soareka and Zephyros."

She happily pointed the two of them out, a rider with starlight hair who was leaning against a gray dragon with a blank expression on her face.

"Why would Eragon care about Soareka? She was Stannis' student and she's always in the south and east anyways," Murtagh sighed. "Stop trying to save Eragon from me, it's the only fun I can have on this piece of rock anyways."

"But they both trained under Arya for over a year before they actually travelled here, and that was only because Zephyros could learn more from Jakista because both of them have similar builds while Fírnen is more bulky," Ismira continued with an innocent smile on her face. "She's been influenced by Arya more than anyone else on this island right now."

Ismira had finally betrayed him.

"Really?" Murtagh said, and Eragon could literally sense the amusement radiating off of him. "What, are you hoping that Arya's guidance will radiate through her little elves that she likes to train herself?"

"No, I am not," Eragon ground out in his building annoyance before sighing and holding up his arms in surrender. He could hear Saphira laughing through his mind. "I'm here because Stannis invited me to come out today and check out the riders and their flying after being here for six months. He hoped that maybe that I'd find one to train. As for Rider Soareka, Stannis mentioned that she'd be here and thought I should consider her as a new addition to the council."

"Ha! Stannis would love that. One of his prized students becoming as master rider? Him and the other council members probably have a bet going to see which of their students get chosen," Murtagh laughed.

"Well she and Zephyros would be a great choice, even Travis and Speira would be great. I think those four are the most notable amongst the current riders," Ismira pushed.

They stood silently then, as Stannis had his student take to the sky as an example for the younglings. The pair seemed to dance in the sky.

"Perhaps…" Eragon sighed as his eyes drifted off to the distance and towards the western sea once again.

***

Eragon and Murtagh were slowly walking up the trail that led through the forest and up to the castle. Saphira, and Thorn had taken off to hunt while they attended the Winter Council.

Ismira had stayed behind to talk to Stannis.

"Eragon, what truly bothers you?" Murtagh suddenly asked, breaking a peaceful silence that they had kept since the cliffs.

Eragon stopped walking and turned to face his brother, his gray eyes seeming to search his own dark ones.

"Nothing really. I really hope there isn't any drama at this year's meeting," Eragon replied. "But I worry about that every six months."

Murtagh's brow furrowed, "It does not do well to dwell on the past brother. I know this more than anyone."

Eragon remained silent.

"Is that why you kept looking out at the sky?" Murtagh questioned further.

"I am worried that she will not come," Eragon replied after several moments. "She left before the Summer Council last time."

"And if she doesn't come, then that is her issue, not yours Eragon," Murtagh sighed. "She can do whatever she wants, you should know that more than anyone."

"But—"

"But nothing, Eragon. You two messed up last time, perhaps it was not meant to be," Murtagh interrupted. "Sometimes these things just do not work out. Even if you love that person very much."

Eragon had no words to say in response.

"Alright, let's go, we are going to be late if we stand here any longer," Murtagh sighed and threw his arm over Eragon's shoulder as he forced him forward. "We'll go for drinks in the town after this, you and I. There's this pretty little—"

Murtagh's words were momentarily drowned out by the sound of thunderous wings as a dragon flew over them. The sensation and sound had taken Eragon years to get use to after the first riders came to the island. It was but a common occurrence now and it brought a smile to his face.

It was the sound of the world that he and Saphira had fought endlessly toward.

He absentmindedly looked up to catch a glimpse of the dragon through the trees.

He froze.

"What?" Murtagh asked, stopping his envisioned plans for the evening.

"That was Fírnen," Eragon gasped, finally letting his words leave his throat.

"No, Eragon," Murtagh started. "Don't get your hopes up like that, it was probably Rider Owen and Daruk."

"No, that was Fírnen! I know it was!" Eragon mumbled and his limbs regained their feeling and his veins pulsed.

He took off up the path, as fast as he could possibly run. Murtagh was right behind him.

They broke through the forest and Eragon found no sign of the green dragon and its rider. But he ran through the gates and courtyard and up the steps.

Nearly slipping on the iced cobbled steps as he turned to run down the exposed hall, he skidded and caught himself on the rail and continued onwards.

Finally the hall opened up to reveal a giant and open balcony and acted as landing and launching area for the riders and their dragons. There were many throughout the castle, but this was the one that was in front of the Order's council room.

No one was outside, but some of the Order's dragons sat and slept on the strip.

They were late, it seemed. Even Gavlin and Jakista were present.

And there, beside the azure and white dragon, lay a giant emerald dragon with yellow eyes.

Eragon slowed to a halt as Fírnen watched him.

She came.

Fírnen didn't greet him, merely watched as Eragon continued at a noble pace with Murtagh by his side into the council chamber.

There were currently only sixteen order members, including him. And they were all inside. Some were sitting on their seats while others stood and chatted with each other.

Eragon was planning on expanding the council as the number of experienced riders grew.

He had barely walked five feet into the grand hall of stone and fire when he found her.

She was sitting in her respective seat, her circlet holding back her black hair as it tumbled down around her. She wore silken green tunic lined in silver, a travellers cloak still wrapped around her shoulders.

Her eyes briefly met his, an act that froze him to a standstill before they drifted off to examine her fingers as they drummed on the arm rest of the stone throne like seat.

"Not now, Eragon," Murtagh's voice echoed within his mind as he felt him tug on his arm.

He had no effort to fight him and soon he found himself within his own seat.

The council proceeded as it always had.

Eragon found himself rarely speaking and not really paying attention.

His attention only surfaced when Arya gave her report about the happenings in Du Weldenvarden and how an egg had recently hatched for an urgal girl a few weeks ago.

When she was done she resumed her silent watch, her eyes not daring to go anywhere near him.

Suddenly, Eragon found himself facing an emptying hall and he jumped forward as he realised that she had vanished.

He practically ran out of the giant hall only to find that Fírnen no longer sat upon the strip, he was gone.

She was gone.

He scanned the skies for them over the horizon as the sun began its journey down, nearing the evening.

They had been in there for hours. He had hardly noticed.

Eragon, at a loss, scrambled for ideas. Perhaps she had not left yet. Maybe Fírnen had gone hunting with Saphira and Thorn?

There was still a chance.

He had to see her, he had to speak to her.

He couldn't let her leave.

Not again.

And so Eragon raced through the icy castle, his cloak billowing behind him as he checked the gardens that they had often walked. The library where had spent some afternoons during her visits. He looked everywhere.

But she was never there.

He had tried calling on Saphira the entire time, perhaps they could still chase after them if they had truly gone? Perhaps Fírnen was with her and he knew where his rider had gone. But Saphira was too far, and he could not reach her.

He found himself walking through his personal study and out into the open cave in defeat.

How could this have happened?

The sun was setting as he climbed the stairs to his living quarters. Everything was dyed in red, pinks and purples as he opened the door and closed it behind him as he threw his cloak off of him.

He trudged down the hall in silence, his destination the room at the end of the long hall.

He never made it that far.

He stood frozen at the entrance to his sitting room.

There stood Arya, her back towards him as she silently observed the room that was covered in fairths and other oddments that he had received throughout his travels in the new lands. Her cloak had been draped over the back of the couch, her arms wrapped around herself.

"Arya," he uttered in disbelief and before he could say anymore she turned to face him.

Their eyes met, her emerald eyes watching him as he shambled into the room slowly.

"This room is nice, I like it," she said softly. "Where are these from?"

She gestured to the many fairths on the walls. And he knew she did not mean the ones of her, their dragons and memories of Alagaesia.

"From the many places me and Saphira have visited over the years and the people we met there," he replied. "This world is truly a beautiful place, it's never ending, the wonders I find within it."

"But none are from Alagaesia," she continued.

"There are some," Eragon stated.

"But they aren't as clear as the rest. You did not make them there, they are blurred."

"That's to be expected, I have spent most of my life here and travelling the new worlds," he said in his defence. "I can barely remember my time there, for what are seventeen years compared to over a century?"

There was a pause as she took in his words, she had said something similar to him once.

"This is truly your home then," Arya sighed. "You're never coming back to Alagaesia again. Not ever."

They now stood closer together; she was just a few strides before him. He could smell the scent of pine.

They stood in silence.

"I thought you had left again," he whispered, their eyes still locked on each other. "But why are you here now?"

She sighed as she ran her hand through her hair, removing her circlet only to throw it on the couch behind her. Her hands dug into her hair as she let out a more frustrated sigh.

"Because we must talk about this," she replied.

"You didn't want to, remember?" he said, his emotions breaking out through his words. "And you're right, perhaps it should not have happened. I have spent these past months thinking about it. It nearly drove me mad, the thought of losing you forever. But I do not want that. I've never wanted that."

He dropped to his knees, and she seemed startled by his actions.

"I've only wanted the opportunity to apologise to you. I am sorry, for whatever distress I have caused you," he cried softly and tearlessly.

She moved towards him and sank to her knees before him.

"I accept your apology, but know that you are not the only one at fault, we were both at fault," Arya whispered. "And for that I am sorry. I am sorry for everything."

She smiled softly, "I once told you that we could be more…someday. But that was before our worlds split apart. Before the night winds snatched you away to this place. In truth, I fled from you last summer in fear that my resolve had been broken. Understand that I was confused and spent the months being driven mad almost as much as you might have been."

She laughed lightly and he said nothing.

"Eragon, we see each other perhaps twice a year if we are lucky, you know that such—" she started to say.

"That is why I am happy that you forgive me, and I've never held it against you. I just want things to be as they always have been," he said desperately. "Before…"

She studied him silently for a moment, "Eragon some things cannot be undone…"

"I know that!" he insisted, his heart pounding. "But we've managed to be friends after all this time, you are my happiness. It doesn't matter that we are worlds apart, that I am the Leader of the Riders or that you are the Queen of the Elves."

"In the end we are just two simple beings. You'll always be Arya and I'll always be Eragon. I'll be whatever you want me to be Arya. Whether that is just Eragon, your friend, a Rider, or just something that could have been," he whispered. "Where we are does not change things. I'll do whatever it takes, because I love you Arya. I always have."

He heard her breath catch and eyes widen. He panicked and started to prattle on nervously. "I mean, I know that maybe you don't want to hear that. But it is true. I really do—"

He stopped rambling as Arya leant forward and placed her head on his chest.
She sighed.

"You know, I wished that it did not happen the way it did. That we were not encouraged by the influences of meads and magic," she hummed against him. "That is perhaps my biggest regret, the one that bothered me the most since the summer. I thought about many things, that something between us was impossible due to our roles in life. That perhaps our distance was too far away to survive. That maybe I had been a fool, doing the things I did without thinking. I was so scared then."

Eragon felt like his heart was going to explode.

"But Eragon, is this not what living is about. Making mistakes and learning from them; this is what being alive means," she continued as she pulled away. "Things cannot be undone, no matter how much I wish I could go back and undo them. I hate myself for letting that happen the way it did. But we're here now because of it."

Her hand cupped his face, "You said you would be anything I needed you to be right? I want you to be Eragon, I want you to be the Leader of the Riders. And I'm the Queen of Elves, but I'm also me. Nothing will change this. No matter what happens. It's taken me many years to decide what I want, to decide that this is what I want. I only just realised recently."

"Arya…" he began but her fingers gently tapped his lips to hush him.

He didn't resist.

She drew closer, "I did not want…" she paused as her fingers moved off his lips. "Our first time to be like that you know, I think that is what upset me the most. I can barely even remember… It's like your fairths of Alagaesia, except so much more faded."

She smiled softly, "I appear to talk too much when I am nervous," and then suddenly her hands pulled him forward as she kissed him.

She was kissing him.

His heart nearly gave out right there.

He groaned as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. She didn't object, instead she pushed him back and onto the floor. The sweet kiss became passionate as she pressed against him. They both moaned as their tongues pressed against each other in some frantic dance.

She pulled away and they both laughed. He was breathing so heavily and all he could see above him was Arya and her bright eyes as her hair tumbled down freely around them.

"I want to remember it this time," she whispered as she nuzzled into his neck.

He nodded and rolled so that he was below him, her pale face flushed pink as her eyes darkened.

"I love you, Arya," he stated as he caressed her face, his other hand intertwined with hers.

She smiled as she ran her free hand through his hair.

"I love you too, Eragon."