The Name of Names

𝕊𝕀𝕏

The two weeks passed, and after a particularly difficult argument, Ismira left her house, refraining from setting it on fire. The weeks had been slow and uneventful, unless she counted the rift that had grown between her parents and herself. That had grown fast and far.

It was evening, and Ismira headed to the local tavern, flipping up her hood. She didn't want to be recognized as Roran's daughter tonight. Pushing the door open, she stepped inside, scanning the room. It was a busy time of day, and if she hadn't been looking, she might not have noticed him.

He was seated in the far back corner, looking at her. After a few seconds, he dropped his gaze back to the table. Ismira headed straight for him.

He looked up again when she slipped into the open seat across from him.

"Evening." She murmured, and he raised his eyebrows.

"So she decided to come after all."

"We didn't agree on a time. So I'm not late." Ismira said evenly, leaving her hood up.

"No, I was just wondering if you'd show at all." He leaned forward. "Or if you'd bring the guards your father has."

Ismira nearly flinched. "If you're worried about my allegiances to my father, don't bother." The words were cold and heartless and she knew it. But they didn't ring false, either. The man looked contemplative, as if Ismira was a particularly difficult puzzle. "Look, I'm here to ask if you..." her voice dropped lower, "if the Dragon has any future plans."

He snorted. "You think I'd tell you? You're the daughter of one of the greatest generals of the war. The war that took the king down." He leaned back in his seat. "Too much of a risk."

"You're here, aren't you?"

"Excuse me?"

"You came. That was a risk. So why did you do it?" Ismira pressed. She had hope here, and she wouldn't let go of it. Even if it meant forcing him to tell her.

The man went silent, watching her. Finally, he spoke, "Because I thought you might have use to the Dragon."

"Then let me prove my worth," Ismira yanked up the sleeve of her dress, where a black stain bloomed.

He sucked in a breath, leaning forward to look closer. "Is that..."

The source of the fight. It had grown larger since she had conjured dark magic. It was like smoke on her skin, swirling and endless. She personally didn't mind it, but what it represented was like an itch on the back of her mind.

"From summoning the void," She whispered. "If you won't take my word of my dedication, take this. I can lead you, as Galbatorix lead the Forsworn."

His face had grown a shade paler, and Ismira noted the fact. Twisted it to her own benefit. He was afraid of her, in some small way. And scared people follow easily.

"None of you have magic this powerful. I do." The man's gaze was fixed on her arm, as if unable to tear his gaze away. "It is your choice. To either stay at the edge of the shadows, or emerge a swirling mass of darkness to combat the light."

He finally lifted his gaze. "Come. I will bring you to the Black Dragon."

~*~

Ismira left no note, but her blood was pumping enough that she didn't care what her parents thought happened to her.

They rode, stopping for a break briefly, and then continued on.

Campfires burned in the distance as the night grew onward, and the man lead her directly towards them. The darkness that hung above the camp almost resembled a dragon. But then, that was just her imagination.