Luminescent (Inheritance Cycle and Beyond)

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Radiant

Fingers lightly traced my spine as I lay curled up on Murtagh's chest. Sweaty and exhausted, all I could do was sprawl out on his chest like a limp noodle, trying to catch my breath.

"Did you see him?" I finally asked, tilting my head to look up at Murtagh's face. Murtagh sighed and brushed his thumb across my flushed cheek.

"We saw each other, yes. But we didn't get close enough to talk..."

"...or fight." I finished, knowing that the two of them would have butt heads. Murtagh sighed before pressing his lips to the top of my head.

"It's going to happen eventually."

"Idiotic brotherly fights," I grumbled before sighing. "at this point, I know that it will. I don't like it. Do you think he ever truly loved my mother?"

"Your father?" Murtagh questioned. "Maybe once, but whatever love he had was forgotten."

"It only mattered what she could do or give to him," I muttered as I tapped my fingers against his bare chest. "No wonder she is so..."

"So what?"

"So broken," I replied, thinking of my mother. "My mother truly loved him, and I think he managed to twist her mind and heart to the point that he broke it."

"What exactly did he want from her?" A twisted smile crossed my lips.

"He wanted the same thing that he has always wanted," I responded bitterly. "Dragon Rider's. That's the only reason why I exist, but now that the green egg won't hatch for me, he wants to pass me off to the nearest noble and hunt down the other dragon so she can mate with Thorn and produce more dragon eggs."

Distant thunder boomed outside the stone walls as lightning lit up the sky through the door and windows of my veranda.

"War is coming," I murmured.

"War's already started, Mal. We're in the middle of it." Murtagh said gently. I laughed as I shook my head.

"No, Murtagh," I said as my lips curved. I knew exactly what I needed to do now. "the war has yet to begin."

Day's went by as I slowly formulated a plan in my head. With Murtagh visiting my bed more regularly, and not just for us to dance beneath the sheets, I was getting more sleep than I had in the past few months.

That gave me more energy to continue the Rimgar and my studies. For my plans to work, I had to have my body and mind at peak performance. My hands were cramping from the hours of writing, and my muscles burned and ached from time spent outside practicing.

I was lucky that my father seemed more concerned with Eragon's whereabouts and the location of my dragon than what I was doing within his walls. His mistake.

It was one night that my maids finally noticed my hands. Both Frida and Lydia gasped and grabbed at my hands, sending my fork clattering to my plate.

"My lady!" Frida gasped, clutching at my hands and spreading out my red, puffy and blistered fingers. "Whatever have you done to your hands!?!"

"I've just been practicing." I defended myself as Lydia scurried into my bathroom. Sounds of water running and bottles rattling around reached my ears before Lydia hustled over to the table with a bucket full of water.

"Practicing what!?!" Frida exclaimed as she forced my hands into the water. A scent wafted up from the bucket, indicating that something had been mixed in with the water. The open blisters on my fingers stung.