Age of the Dragon 1: Return of the Riders

Chapter 18

The third day of leisure had Fallyn filled with such anxiety she found herself pacing aimlessly. Feeling frustrated at this pointless action, she stopped by to speak with Murtagh.

"Last time you were here, you mentioned folk tales," Murtagh said as he ate his breakfast. "So share one."

"Hmm, let me tell you the tale of the ptarmigan," she said. "A small bird, that is highly honoured among the Avaar tribes of men."

She then told him the story of how the mountain-god, Korth grew weary of how strong men would grow weak, brave men grow cowardly, and wise men turn to fools for love because of their hearts. So to protect himself from this fate, he removed his heart and locked it away and formed a mighty mountain - the Frostback Mountains - over it. Unfortunately, this had the side effect of making him cruel and he began to torment both men and gods. So the Lady of the Skies sent the best of her children - the swiftest, the cleverest, and the strongest fliers - to search for it. But all returned with nothing.

When the small ptarmigan offered to search as well, the other birds laughed. For this small bird was too humble to soar and spent half its time hopping along the ground. The Lady would not give her blessing, for the mountains were too fierce for even the mighty eagle. But undeterred, the little bird searched, found and returned the heart. And when the heart returned to Korth, Hakkon Wintersbreath sealed it back into Korth's chest with three bands of iron and three bands of ice, so that it would never again be removed from him.

"Quite the tale," Murtagh said. "You should write them down, so others can hear them."

Fallyn chuckled. "Sadly, I fear the people of this land have as much interest in the gods and tales of distant lands as they do there."

"Do you worship those gods?"

"I worship none," she said simply. "The Avvar gods are not mine."

"What are yours then?"

"I... have not found them," she answered. "Once I worshipped my father's god, but...I suppose I found him cruel when he took so much from me."

"I think I can understand that," Murtagh said softly.

She smiled, then stood to leave.

"This has been a pleasant diversion of my time, thank you, Murtagh," she said.

"You do seem calmer now, than when you arrived," he laughed. "What has you so wound up?"

"It's the nothingness," she said. "When you are as sensitive to the changes in nature as I am, doing nothing as the world buzzes with energy can be maddening."

"What do you plan to do now?"

"Go to the training yard, see if Eragon has begun his testing," she answered. "Perhaps test him myself."

"He's fairly good with the blade," Murtagh assured her.

She smiled over her shoulder, with a knowing look. "We shall see."

Stopping only to collect her bow, a fresh quiver, and her sword, Fallyn made her way to the training yard, which was quieter than usual. She soon discovered that the reason for that was Arya's and Eragon's sparring match in the centre of the yard.

She took the opportunity to observe his technique, noting that Brom had certainly taught the boy well. In the end, however, it was still Arya's win, as she disarmed him.

His cheeks burned with embarrassment, but both Fallyn and Arya were satisfied with where he was at, in terms of his combat prowess.

Arya acknowledged Fallyn with a small smile, before indicating to Eragon to follow her. The boy clambered onto Saphira's back and flew after the swiftly running elf.

Turning her attention to the field at hand, she searched through the crowd of soldiers for a potential sparring partner.

Fredric caught her eye and grinned widely as he approached the small elf.

"Lady Fallyn, an honour to see you again so soon," he boomed. "Enjoy the show?"

"It was adequate," she smiled slightly.

He chuckled too. "Such a hard woman to please. Are you looking for a sparring partner my lady?"

"Do you think you can keep up?" she teased.

"I can only promise to try," he answered.

Despite no human or dwarf truly being her equal - she'd had centuries to perfect the art of swinging metal at people - she was able to get in a fair bit of exercise, and had become embroiled in disagreement on who would be a better shot with several dwarves and men.

This disagreement ended with much gold exchanging hands in Fallyn's favour as she hit every target with unerring accuracy.

Eragon and Arya returned from their chat, and he lingered to watch as Fallyn claimed yet another win.

"And that is why you never bet against Fallyn," Fredric boomed, gleefully counting his winnings. "She has no equal with the bow!"

"Really?" Eragon sounded uncertain.

"Even among the elves, Fallyn is a prodigy," Arya smiled. "She could hit a sparrow in flight while riding at a full gallop in the opposite direction - if she were so inclined."

"You flatter me," Fallyn laughed. "I fear I've not been practising as often as I should, and I've grown a little rusty."

The men around barked with laughter at the idea that this immaculate archer was rusty in her art. Those that had lost money, grumbled their disbelief that such a display of skill could ever be considered rusty in any way.

Eragon excused himself, and the two elves decided it was time to catch up.

After all, Arya knew there was no way the elves had given Fallyn permission to leave Ellesméra, so she was very curious about why the woman was as far as possible from the city.

"So you snuck away from Ellesméra? Do you realise how dangerous that was?" Arya admonished, after Fallyn explained her strange foreboding, how she had tried to speak with the elves about it but nothing changed, and everything that had happened up until she met Eragon.

"I know, but I couldn't simply sit by and watch the world change before me," Fallyn shrugged. "You know I have plenty of patience when it matters... but this has riled my blood in such a way that I can barely stay still long enough to eat."

"Your mother referred to it as a 'quickening' didn't she?"

"Like that which took the immortality from my ancestors no doubt," Fallyn smiled wryly. "I'm being careful, Arya. But there's something coming, and it's making my skin itch."

"Then we'd best be ready for it."