The Age of the Dragon 4: On Silver Wings

Chapter 14

Fallyn's screams echoed off the walls, followed by exhausted panting.

"Will you swear your fealty to me in the Ancient Language?"

"I would rather die," she spat.

The question and answer had become a sort of game between them, though there was no victory in it for Fallyn. She would reject, burn, scream, repeat. It was exhausting, but Fallyn had endured worse.

The silver lines in her skin bespoke of that.

After the irons grew cold, and they had to wait for them to heat, Fallyn tried to still her breathing, mentally reciting scraps of poetry, lines from the Chant or songs and lullabies from the elvhen. During this time, Galbatorix would speak, as if to coax her into submitting.

"It need not be this way, Fallyn," he would almost purr the words. "You cannot believe that the world would have been better off if I had not overthrown the Dragon Riders."

"There is enough war and death," she answered tiredly. "I would never claim they were perfect, but they were better than the chaos and ruin you brought upon the world."

"Don't be so blind," Galbatorix scoffed.

He ranted on how there had been no change in the golden age of the Dragon Riders, how change was a natural thing.

"By your own admission, have you not kept things steadfastly the same this last century?" Fallyn scoffed. "If you value change so much, should you not step aside to allow another to rule until their allotted time has ended?"

He chuckled, but before he could respond, Fallyn made a sound of annoyance.

"Do not be so arrogant, Galbatorix," she warned. "Mar solas ena mar din, your pride will be your death. Now if you are done trying to twist my thoughts and beliefs with empty words, let us get on with this so-called gentle persuasion. You speak of grand schemes of change and improvement, but the land has not improved under your so-called discoveries, nor your rule."

"And that is where your arrogance betrays you," Galbatorix chuckled. "For while I searched the scrolls and libraries in Vroengard and here, I discovered a truth that could provide an answer to one of the most perplexing questions in history."

Not eager to continue being poked with a hot iron, but neither willing to let Galbatorix think he had piqued her interest, Fallyn chose stony silence to his attempt to bait her.

"You feign disinterest, yet I can tell you are curious," he chuckled.

"What you know about me could fill a cup and still tell you nothing," she thought venomously.

"The question I speak of is how a king or queen might enforce the laws they enact when there are those among their subjects who can use magic," Galbatorix said, before launching into a tiresome explanation of how he had discovered the clues then set about searching for an answer.

"A fragment of an answer revealed itself to me, in an essay written by Clanes of how magic was viewed and policed in Thedas," he continued. "Though I was never able to find the specifics, the people of that land have a method of severing one's connection to magic, do they not?"

"Tranquil," Fallyn murmured. "Cut off from dreams and magic and emotion, barely even alive."

She spat in his direction, best she could.