Redemption

Memories

A/N
In this chapter is mentioned self-harm. If you are sensitive to this topic, you can skip at ~~~~
Stay safe🫶

Aifos' Pov
The hike obviously proved itself to be a failure: scuffles between riders and fliers broke way too often in hallways, and anytime they met each other, they tightened the line of respectively their squads and drifts.
I got assaulted too, one day; I'd just dismounted from Chex after four days of patrolling and was following Garrick and Xaden into the palace, when a drift hissed something behind us and in the blink of an eye hands grappled my arms, and I had to freeze the flier with a disgruntled "Letta". Xaden's shadows split among us three, knocking the drift off its feet, and Garrick's power hummed in the air, his body tense.
Xaden's voice was curt, "You will die if you do not cooperate."
Then, he gestured for us to keep walking.
-Always keep your mind focused,- said Ronny.
-Yeah...-
A week passed, but the hostility remained; because of that, the teachers decided to temporarily keep the lessons separate.
Many afternoons were brisk with the October breeze, and in one of them Chex found me in the purge in the outskirts of the small town around the palace. Copper fire was crackling, and with Ronny's instructions I was shaping Chex's helmet, and with the page of his measures carefully away from the fire.
Because Ronny advised me of his presence, I wasn't startled when he spoke up, -How's it going?-
The helmet crackled when it was immersed in the water, and I held it up while manoeuvring the thongs so light would shimmer on it.
-It isn't as embroidered as according to Elves' taste, but it's still pretty-
-Its beauty lies in its efficiency,- said Ronny, -No armour should be made for purely aesthetic reasons.-
I hummed, nodded, and put the helmet on the table at my left. Then, I turned around and watched as Chex twisted his neck and managed to put his head in the circular room. I rubbed his copper scales with the heel of my palm, -Got bored, baby?-
-Today Darna's with Violet and Tairn and the others and is assisting said Violet with a lesson on some runes,- he whined, -She kicked me away when I asked her if I could stay and watch.-
-I'm sorry.-
-Yeah.-
-How is she doing, by the way, Ro?-
-We managed to fully open her left wing this morning- he said with pride, -_She should be flying soon enough._-
-Oh! That's why she was insufferable this afternoon.-
-Leave her be, Chex,- grumbled Ronny, -Next time I shall ask her to keep it open for a bit longer than mere seconds.-
-Do not push her too much,- I muttered half-mindedly, as I skimmed over the pages with the armour's measurements.
-She's the one pushing me beyond my patience, kid. She's the snappiest dragon I've ever met, and if she's cross about an exercise, there's no way I can persuade her to perform it. Even Tairn finds himself sniped at, when he watches us.-
-That's nothing out of the ordinary,- said Chex, -I get insulted every day.-
We fell silent, and I picked up the rest of the steel still to be shaped.
-You may want to duck out,- I warned Chex, -I don't know how safe it is for you right now.-
-You'd never hurt me.-
-Not intentionally, no,- butted in Ronny, and I already knew the tale he was going to tell, -But I'll always remember that day when Aifos and I were working on Heill and they hammered it down so carelessly a piece of it nearly blinded Rhunon!-
-It was a mistake! And it wasn't that near her face.-
-She made them clean up her purge for the rest of their stay. It was funny, I must admit.-
-It was not.-
-For me, it was.-
-For a fire breathing reptile, everything must be funny!-
-Touchy much, kid?-
He snorted as I sent him an image of my glare.
-Uh, sorry, but who's this.. Rhunon, exactly?-
-She's the Elves' wisest blacksmith. She shaped all of the Dragon Rider's swords and armours during the times of the Ancient Order until the Rider-That-Was-Not-Meant-To-Be's ascent. Upon seeing the destruction caused by her most beloved creation twisted by the Mad King, she made an oath in the Ancient Language not to shape any other sword or spear or such like, and you know that any oath spoken in this language is to be held for eternity.-
-It was a sword,- I said, softly, -Islingr, it was called. Bringer of light. After the murder of the Order's eldest Rider, it was named Vrangr, the Warped. Eragon believes it will never be as bright as it once used to be.-
-But before Vrael's death, alongside the Thirteen he'd burned Doru Araeba's library... The largest of all Alagaesia. The loss of such knowledge made every people regress as much as the fall of the Ancient Order did.-
-That's why we're fighting, Chex. So that you will not fall, and you will go on thriving, just like Alagaesia could never. Dragons may be back... But what's burned remains so.-
And for some reason, I cast my eyes down to my wrists.
Throughout the week, Xaden and his squad flew to patrol, and Ronny and I followed them for a while. The sky was empty of any threats, and I found myself humming old Elfic tunes.
Then, we split apart, and Garrick and I narrowed our fields of patrols, until we deemed them safe and landed back in Riorson's palace.
Bodhi caught up to me and said he'd heard some rumours about a treaty between squads and drifts, "In Basgiath fashion."
Garrick huffed a laugh and shook his head, "Predictable."
I slid off my gloves, "What does it mean?"
"Challenges to address the grievances between us."
"Oh. Sounds fair."
"Yeah. And you bested Xaden. So... Want to help us out?"
"I'm sure you'll be able to hold your grounds just fine, but I'd be happy to help nonetheless."
"Yeah man!"
We walked to the sparring gym, where his squad was clustered. We stepped on a mat, and I unsheathed Heill and let it glimmer copper. Then, I pointed it to Bodhi, "Show me."
A couple of days later, Bodhi's predictions turned out to be true, indeed. My arms were aching after having assembled half Chex's armour, and I was slowly making my way back to my room to take a nap (I was sharing it with Garrick, who was currently away with other marked ones) when I heard cheers and shouts from the sparring gym. The minds in that room were focused on two challengers; I recognised Violet's one, with the black streaks of Tairn's power and the pearlescent ones of Andarna's. However, it was whisked away in a whirlwind of emotions so entangled I struggled to make them out properly: self-loathing, envy, inferiority, jealousy, all of them held together by rage.
I leaned against the wall and with pursed lips and tight features blocked out all the spectators' minds, apart from the two on the mat. Then, I focused on the flier's, but when I did so, my throat tightened and blue eyes flashed in my mind. They were colder than any winter, and glared down at me with despise.
My father loomed in front of me, a giant man with large shoulders and blonde hair and fair skin. I squeezed my eyes shut and coiled, ready to absorb the strike.
"I don't know why your mother never brings you with her."
"She says the journey's too perilous for a child like you."
"She's ashamed of you. She's just too much of a coward to tell you plainly."
"If I were in peril, would you save me, or would you be paralysed?"
We were at some banquet, perhaps for a wedding ceremony; for appearances sake, I was between my father and another kid.
And I darkly thought that if he fell right there and then, I would do nothing. I would refuse to do anything.
But I was only eleven years old, and no matter the lack of love my father had always given me, I was stricken by this bitter thought, and hastily scrambled away.
Perhaps my father glanced distractedly at me; perhaps he didn't even realise I was gone until... I couldn't tell.
Pebbles of rain hit my skin as I ran, and ran, until the ground shook behind me and Ronny stretched wide his wing over me.
His great, brown eye blinked slowly at my drenched face, both because of the rain and the tears.
-Let's get away from here, kid.-
I was eleven years old, and the youngest dragon Rider Alagaesia had ever recorded.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Hey! Wake up!"
With a gasp I opened my eyes, and for a moment I didn't know where I was. My heart was thrumming in my temples, and instinctively I tightened my body, ready for something I couldn't quite remember. Only after a couple of seconds, I realised I'd been digging my nails in my wrist, and that I'd slid onto the hard floor of a palace which was an ocean away from my father. I blinked and squinted up to a dark face, tight with worry. I was sure I'd seen her somewhere.
Her brown eyes skimmed on my body, "For Dunne's sake, what happened to you?"
She hauled me up, and clasped my shoulders.
I felt dizzy, and confused.
"Are they dead?"
A faint echo of a roar flashed through my mind.
"Does it look like they're dead, Ridoc?"
"Well, they do to me."
The girl (I recognised her now, she was Rhiannon, squad leader of Fourth Wing) turned around and glared at the others, "Knock it out, boys."
"What... What happened?"
"What? I am not Violet, I don't understand what you're saying."
"I, uh... What, what happened?"
"That's what we're asking ourselves here too."
"Yeah!" Exclaimed Ridoc, now peering from Sawyer's shoulders, "We found you pretty much passed out in the hallway."
"You sure you're alright? You look a bit pale."
"I am. It's just that, uh..." I waved around, and they blinked at me.
" 'It's just that' what?"
"Nothing," I mumbled, casting my eyes low, "Nothing."
"We should bring you to the infirmary," said Rhiannon, but I shook my head, "No, no, really, I'm fine. I just felt dizzy."
From their faces, I knew my lie must've fallen short, but I didn't have the strength to linger anymore, so I nodded curtly at them and hobbled away.
"Odd guy," one of the two boys muttered.
"Aren't they the foreign one? Rhi?"
"I think they are."
My hands closed into a first, and my nails dug in my palms; there they were, those Riders, jerking their heads at me and wondering aloud why was I there in the first place, on the ground or in Navarre, I didn't care, it meant just the same; I only had to stumble in my room, and then I could listen to that Viscount's words ("You long for a feeling of belonging, don't you?"), and bleed until I could no longer spiral.
As I was walking away, however, a sudden pain slashed through my shoulder, and with a sharp gasp I crumbled against the wall again.
Instinctively, I pressed my hand on my shoulder, but no blood stained it.
It wasn't my pain; it belonged to one of my dragons'. But to whom?
And I simply was too tired to run amok looking for them.
"Infirmary, now!" Shouted Rhiannon with a stern voice, and the two boys pulled me up. I wanted to yell at them and thrash and go to my room at once, and my fingers were tickling with the longing of scratching my skin, but their grip was harsh on my arms, and my knees too weak.
As they brought me to the healers, I went past my headache and called for Chex, -Go look for Ronny. I fear he's in trouble.-
-Love! Are you okay? What happened?-
-Just do as I told you. Please. I'm... I'm fine.-
-You aren't!-
-Please...-
-Okay, fine! But I'll kick him in the gut myself.-
I tripped and fell on the bed of the infirmary upon a sudden loss of energy. The protection shields around Ronny held fast, but if he kept up whatever it is that he was doing, I didn't know for how long I could allow them to stay on.
I slumped my shoulders when the healer took my wrists with careful fingers. His eyes were as brown and as gentle as Eragon's had been that fateful afternoon of many years ago, when I realised I was a bastard and I bled for the first time.