Erys: An Eragon Fanfiction - (Under Editing)

Chapter Forty-Six

Guarded

"Put it down, human."

The halfbreed glared at her.  Erys sneered and shoved Arvindr back in its sheath, glaring harshly.  She would have resisted were it not for the massive brutish wyrm that slithered into the hall to stand beside its Rider.  As it stood, Erys' jaw went slack.  It defied everything she'd known of dragons. She supposed it shouldn't have been a shock. She'd met her fair share of rarities.  Du Thirr defied everything she'd thought she'd known; Thorn himself was anomaly.

This beast only had two legs, though both were well muscled and nearly as thick as a tree trunk.  It walked, using the three claw-like appendages on the spine of its wings like toes, almost like fingers—Erys couldn't be sure; its wings served almost like a second set of legs.  Its tail—a large barb protruding from the end—constantly swayed in sync with its body, as if shifting to keep balance.  Horns extended from the entirety of the back of its head, even from the bottom of its jaw.  When it unhinged its maw—a wide gaping void with the joints of the jaw bone set far back on the skull—Erys saw not one, but three rows of teeth; its mouth, when open, seemed twice the size of it's head.  Spittle sloshed in its mouth.  As it dripped to the floor, it burned through the rock.

"His name is Kreth'Vayenn."

He snorted at her and snapped his jaw a mere inch from her face. It growled at her, more of a vibrating, choking gurgle from the back of its throat than a roar.  As is snarled, it's spines and horns quivered, giving off a slight rattle. The sound echoed through the stony halls.

"I've never seen a dragon do that," Erys muttered.

The halfbreed mounted her dragon.  Erys extended a hand to be pulled up, but she ignored her and rode forward.

"Hey!"

"You walk," she snapped.

Erys glowered.

"I didn't do anything," she snapped back.

"Exactly.  You did nothing."

She left Erys standing in the corridor.

"One of your kind murdered my friend!" Erys finally said.

"One of my kind?"

"You'll forgive my hesitation to trust."

"Will I?"

"You still haven't told me what you prefer," Erys said, changing the subject.

She stopped and turned in the saddle.  With a sigh, she reached down and pulled Erys up beside her.  "Where's your dragon?"

"Out," Erys said. 

"Jorren'll want to meet him.  Or her,  I suppose, whatever it is."

"She's busy.  And you still haven't answered my question."

"Does it matter?" she asked.  "Either side hates me.  My mother died before I knew her."

"What about your father?"

"He's the brute who raped her."

Erys fell silent. Maybe intermingling of the races wasn't as common as she thought. With war as the foundation of a culture, how could they be anything but bloodthirsty? Was it so surprising they raped women? Erys wondered the halfbreed hadn't been killed the moment she was born. She abandoned the thought as vertigo threw her stomach into a fit. She had little experience flying, and each swooping dive or climb sent her stomach lurching.

They reached the training level in no time.  Erys had no clue where they were; she thought they'd flown higher, but she was so dizzy and disoriented from the ride she couldn't be sure.  They dismounted and joined a group of people Erys could only assume were Riders: two Dwarves—Gendring and Aeris—Taerolan, and one Erys assumed was Elven, though she lacked the same grace Taerolan moved with. Each was accompanied by a dragon; again, Erys couldn't help but notice the differences in Kreth'Vayenn.  He knelt and allowed them to dismount.  Erys struggled while Kirya Vodvohruk'Kreshz leapt gracefully to the floor.