Destiny (Volume I: Shur'tugalar)

Chapter Two Part XV (ED)

"A dragon egg," Arya repeated out loud. "But...how? Dragons weren't native to Alalëa." As Eragon looked closer, he noticed the egg was double the size Saphira's had been. The same thin white veins that had been on hers were threaded along the one in Niom's hands, running through the smooth steely gray patterning.

"This dragon egg was brought to the island by Leafë," Niaomi told her. "However, when her boat capsized upon entering Alalëa's barrier, it was lost to sea until it washed up on the beach - much like how its Rider had moments before."

"How did my sister come across a dragon egg in Du Weldenvarden?"

"It was given to her by our masters, and is the reason she left Alagaësia in the first place. But that is a part of her story, and right now we are explaining Niom's."

The Rider began the reminiscence once more as Niom raised the egg up to the light, turning it to try and see inside of it. The mirror shifted to his point of view, and as the egg turned, a fleeting glimpse of a wing appeared.

The image zoomed out again to show the young man resting the egg on his lap, rubbing it as he looked into the distance: a bright blue sky that stretched for a few miles until it turned gray and stormy again. The barrier was more noticeable from this angle, clearly encircling the entire island.

As the focus shifted back to Niom, he sighed and said, "Well, I guess I'm stuck here until that storm blows over." His voice was surprisingly deep for his age, filled with weariness, and Eragon also noticed that while all the triplets sounded alike, Nathan's voice was the most similar to his father's.

Putting the egg back down in the sand, Niom walked up the beach to the edge of the forest. Peering through the leaves, he and the viewers heard only the strange cries of its creatures. Niom walked into the forest, looking around as he came across a clearing, where a bubbling brook lay only a few feet away.

Niom eagerly crouched down on its bank, just about to slip his hands into the water when a rough voice behind him called, "Oh, I wouldnae do that if I were ye."

Gasping, the young man spun around to see a creature that was part goat and part man standing behind him. It stood upright on furry legs, but had a human torso and arms, bare and covered in hair. On its head, two curled horns sprouted from dark brown hair. From the face, it seemed to be a male, with a wild beard and large nose set below dark eyes.

"Now, lad, do ye nae ken that ye cannae be sipping from that there spring without asking it first?" the creature said through a thick, rolling brogue.

Niom blinked rapidly, a habit Nasuada did when she was very surprised. "What - what are you?"

The goat-man grinned. "Me name's Tristan, and I, laddie, am a satyr."

"A sa-satyr?" the other stuttered.

"Aye," Tristan replied cheerily. "And what be yer name?"

"Niom."

"And what manner o' beastie are ye, Niom?"

"I'm...a human."

The satyr gaped. "Ye donnae say? A human hasnae e'er stepped foot on Alalëa."

"Is that what this place is called?" Niom asked, shaking off his shock in light of information. "'Alalëa'?"

Tristan nodded. "'Tis a magical place, this here island. Indeed, 'tis almost like the island itself lives."

Niom looked around with new interest. "Alive? How?"

A snort sounded from the other as he scratched one goat thigh. "How, ye ask? Well, laddie, it be the cause o' nature being alive on this here island."

"What?"

"Aye, I speak the truth. That is why I told ye that ye must ask first to drink from that there stream. If ye didnae...well, ye may be sprayed or drowned, depending on the nymph's mood."

"Nymphs?"

Tristan laughed heartily. "Pardon me; I forget ye donnae ken o' these things. A nymph is a cousin to fairies - ye ken of them?"

"Yes, the tiny winged people who can do magic. But I thought they existed only in...fairy tales."

"They exist right here," the satyr corrected, walking up to the young man with a strange gait (which Eragon assumed was due to his hooves) to look over the stream. He was shorter than Niom, but not as short as a dwarf. "Fairies belong to the sprite family, who are kin to nymphs - nature beings - and water nymphs are called naiads. The difference 'tween the two species be their size. Sprites are small, while nymphs are taller than satyrs."

"So do nymphs exist in all parts of nature?" asked Niom excitedly, his eyes alight with interest. "Even in rocks or grass or - "

"Slow down, lad!" Tristan said with a chuckle. "There are several types of nymphs, but not in e'ery blade of grass or pebble. If that were the case, then we'd be punished e'ery time we took a step."

"I understand...sort of." Looking back at the stream, Niom confirmed, "So, I just go up and ask to drink the water?"

"Aye, and wait for her to give ye a sign that you may drink."

"What's a sign saying I can't?"

Tristan scratched his beard. "She'll do naught at all, I suppose. Go on, lad - I'm sure yer as parched as parchment."

As the satyr laughed at his own joke, the other cautiously approached the stream. Bowing to it, Niom asked, "Honored naiad, would you permit a weary man to drink from your precious stream?"

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the water started swirling, gathering at one spot. It rose, the jets of liquid twisting together into a humanoid form. It stilled until the figure solidified, forming into a girl with long black hair and golden skin. Her eyes were as blue as the waters swirling at her feet, and her dress flowed like the stream itself.

"You flatter me with your grand words," said the naiad, her voice bright and bubbly.

Niom stared in shock before bowing once again. "As you flatter me with your presence."

The naiad smiled, her teeth like pearls. "I like you. My name is Wayłoêr. You may drink from my stream anytime you wish - but it wouldn't hurt to bring a gift now and then. Shiny things are best."

Laughing, she turned back into water before falling into the stream once more. Niom stood a while, then kneeled and drank. Standing, he whispered his thanks before turning back to the satyr, whose jaw was hanging open in astonishment.