Rider's Dawn (Hestrhlaupas Elding)

[Mercenary Lord]

OOC: http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?t=149417
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Eragon Shadeslayer gazed out over the small crowd gathered beneath the platform, a smile playing at his lips. "Welcome, my friends. I am happy you could make it here, today." As he often did, Eragon used a simple vocabulary, and his tone was warm and friendly, not condescending or snide. It made him easy to listen to. "Today is a momentous event! For nearly twenty years, I have lived here, trained here. Sixteen years ago, the first Choosing of Riders occurred, and what an event it was. The first thee new Riders joined our ranks! " He stopped for a moment, meeting each person's eyes. "And now," he continued, "we gather here once more. Four years have passed, and as the custom appears to be, now is the time for the dragon eggs to Choose once more!" There was a fair bit of cheering at this, but most of the crowd was silent with breathless anticipation. It was an exciting event, even if everyone there knew the outcome of the day. Joy that would soon fill the air, along with hungry squeaks.

Eragon stepped forward, past the long table that dominated the large platform. "Each of you aligned before me has a partner waiting for you on this table. All that you must do is find the proper one." He smiled. "I have no doubt you will succeed. Do not fear. Any who ascend to this platform will leave happy. Will leave a Rider." He spoke with a quiet confidence, far different than what the tales of the war would claim. He was dressed simply: a deep blue tunic, which matched his blade, and his dragon, woolen pants, sturdy brown boots. Brisingr was attached to his hip, and a silver band of intricate design was on his wrist, signifying the leader of the riders. Behind the platform, Saphira snorted.

Approach, hatchlings. Why do you hesitate? The eggs will not bite. Are you afraid of tripping over your own feet? Your destiny awaits. It was a good speech, inspiring, awakening. Eragon nodded to her approvingly. "Indeed. Riders," He stressed the word. "You need not fear rejection, nor pain. Each and every one of you has a place here. I-" He stiffened, his face growing pale. This was not unnoticed by the crowd, which began to mutter fearfully. It cleared quickly, and he grinned sheepishly. "My apologies. I have just received an urgent message, one which I must attend to. Blödhgarm, would you please accompany me?" He glanced at one of the pillars that supported the platform roof.

Blödhgarm melted out of the shadows of the pillar, and made to leave with Eragon. He stopped momentarily, and then turned back to the shadows. "Sundavrgarm. You've been to other another Choosing. I would appreciate if you would help the new apprentices." Then he was off, tailing Eragon as the two headed back to the Castle. Saphira growled slightly in irritation.

Fool. He can't just leave these hatchlings behind...Aaron, would you help them in our stead?

Aaron started. He had been lounging against another pillar, watching the proceedings with interest. As Saphira spoke to his mind, he straightened. Of course, Saphira. It would be my pleasure. He took Eragon's place, near the front of the stage, and cleared his throat. Saphira rumbled, Thank you. Máttug! I would like you to assist Aaron. Galralde! You as well. Saphira unfurled her wings, and took off in the Castle's direction.

Aaron turned to the crowd, and threw out his mind to Gal. Where are you?

Flying with Máttug. Fear not, we shall be there shortly. Aaron rolled his eyes, but sent an acknowledgement. Very well, but be fast. There will be a lot of hungry baby dragons here, soon. Behind him, Aaron motioned to Sundavrgarm to approach, and then opened his mouth. "As Eragon was saying, this is a wonderful event. There is no cause for anxiety. Rejoice!" The crowd cheered, egging on the line of candidates. Aaron allowed himself a small smile as well. "You will ascend the platform one at a time, in the order on this list."

Aaron plucked a scroll from a set of shelves to his left, and began to read the names. There were seventeen in all, with the final two being "Richard Nummer! Atlanta Falathiel!" He furled the scroll, placing it back in it's cubby hole. "Now, candidates! Ascend the platform, and take on the Rider's mantle!" The crowd roared in approval, and the fifth Choosing of the new Rider Order began. It went off without a problem, each egg hatching for each person. Aaron had a massive grin on his face the entire time. There was always the initial gasp of a bit of pain, as the Shining Palm appeared on their skin, and then the ecstatic look of pure joy as the reality of their situation struck. Aaron looked down to the line. Only the last two remained.

"Well, Richard? Two eggs remain. Why don't you come and find out which is yours?" Under his breath, he muttered to Sundavrgarm, behind him: "Sundavr. I want you to keep your mind open to the apprentices. If any of them feel more...magically inclined than the others, I want you to alert me. Can you do that?" Aaron glanced over his shoulder at his friend. He chuckled a bit. "I want to know which apprentices to take."

Then Aaron stepped back, drawing level with Sundavrgarm, and watched Richard intently, waiting for the man to move.
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[101 Scout1]

Sundavrgarm had been awaiting in the shadows, beside his father as the Choosing proceeded as normal. However, when Eragon stiffened, the young elf reached out to try and find what was so urgent, but his mind, as well as Blödhgarm's and Saphira's were sealed off. It was normal, however, for them to be blocked off, especially if it was information not meant for him, as holding his mental defenses was something he did whenever he could. His eyes met his father's and he issued a nod before joining Aaron in front of all of the new Riders.

As he also emerged from the shadows, he was sure that a few of the human Riders would be surprised at his and Blödhgarm's appearances, as the difference was not very common among the elves and would usually be completely unheard of by the humans, depending on the particular human. The elf was wearing a soft green robing, trimmed in a very formal and elegant gold for the formality of their event. Beneath the robes, which were opened in the front, was a pair of black pants; his chest was left bare with his fur in pride, though not much of his chest was shown as the robe was only partly opened. On his feet were a pair of sturdy boots, and his robes had sleeves that hung to just above his elbows, his jeweled bracers showing around his furred hide. His dark eyes scanned the crowd, not menacing, but not as inviting as Eragon's had been.

He allowed Aaron to do the speaking, as his English was somewhat broken compared to his fluent, elegant vocabulary in the Ancient Language. As the list was read through, Sundavr's sensitive ears, which rested nearly atop his head and were shaped as a black wolf's (though they did not improve his auditory abilities above that of the average elf), heard Aaron speak. He and Aaron had been rather close, as Aaron was the first Rider, after Eragon, on Nyreloi. They had both attended the first Choosing, Sundavr was there to learn and observe with his father while Aaron was chosen as a Rider.

His eyes were scanning over the crowd, but after a moment they closed and he exhaled calmly. The elf's mind spread out as he brushed against each new Rider. As they were so new, none of them (save for the elves) would realize that there was a presence in their head, sorting through just the surface of their character. He came to an elf or two, but surprisingly met little resistance. Clearly they understood that they were in a safe place, or that they were not to protect themselves mentally too soon, to enforce a certain level of trust. Sundavrgarm pulled away, blockading his own mind as he moved his gaze back to Aaron. His voice was low enough that the Rider could hear it, but none otherwise.

He began to speak, keeping his words slow and pronounced as he used the Ancient Language to convey his words, "I have found a few of note. The one called Sathir... He is young, yet he holds a great deal of potential. However, his interest and eagerness is great, and without the proper teacher he may accidentally make a dire mistake. If you teach him, you must take great precautions to teach him patience, lest he become overenthusiastic... I have faced the same problem in mine own independent studies, as you've seen." Sundavrgarm gave his friend a sly, somewhat mischievous grin. It showed his extended canines and somewhat sharper teeth.

"As for the others... The elves will take naturally to it... Richard Nummer is another, but he seems less concerned with magic and holds more anticipation for swordplay. He will make an excellent Rider, for he has the potential of character and heart, he is open-minded and well-spoken. I look forward to his growth," the elf said with a nod, his smile fading as he pointed out one final person. He had learned their names by brushing their minds, it was not a hard task as they were young, human, and oblivious to magic for the most part. "Atlanta Falathiel, she is... different from the others. She does not hold as many years as most, but her passion and determination are quite obvious. I do not believe she will be as apt at magic as many other Riders, but I may be surprised as well, if she devotes herself to it. She is unique, and strives to break from the fray of others, an admirable trait, if taken in moderation. Her weapon-of-choice is a scythe, which is a curious option, unorthodox, but deadly nontheless. She will be another interesting one to follow, I believe we have a very special group of Riders upon this Choosing. I may be more apt at prying into the minds of others than I was sixteen years ago, my friend, but in many of them, I see the same admirable traits you and your brethren held as well." The corners of the elf's mouth perked up a little bit in a small smile, his hands were folded together behind his back as he held his posture powerfully, letting out an air of confidence.

It had been quite a day, and with Eragon and the others leaving on such short notice, Sundavrgarm could not help but admire Aaron's ability to take up the reins and lead the rest of the ceremony. He was passionate, it was a trait that the two of them shared and was one of the reasons the two of them got along so well.

[redscarlett]

Atlanta Falathiel stood in her fathers shadow, she was younger and shorter than most of the other apprentices. She knew nothing really about magic other than old tales the elders of the village told or travelers. Atlanta stood in the long line of other Apprentices a guy named Richard that in front of her. Atlanta wear a simple furred trimmed white robe over a white dress, it had a healers symbol on it, it was sturdy and meant for work. Her long black hair was tied up into a ponytail, and she wore her mothers nice sandals. Hanging on her back was her scythe many of the other villagers laughed at her and said she picked a worthless weapon, but she disagreed it was a splendid weapon and was a little lighter than a sword. Plus she thought swords were to common everyone wanted a sword but she founded them rather short and heavy. As a daughter of healers she knew a great deal about herbs and many fighting techniques.


Atlanta felt anticipation hit her, but she quickly made it go away with years of training of self reserve. Atlanta had always been well a "wild child" she had ditched boring chores and played in the forest. Even if it could be a dangerous place, she loved climbing trees and staying so still rabbits and other small creatures would come out of their barrows, she would stay in the forest till her mother came looking for her. With an nasty scolding, plus no supper. As she got older her parents brought down an iron fist and made her stop going into the forest unless she had an assistant and was only getting herbs.


Atlanta listened to Aaron and had to force her self to look at him, old habits of doing work while listening and not looking at the speaker had to be broken. She would have to look at her speaker since it was mandatory. Atlanta shifted on her other leg trying nervously and quietly waited for her turn, she looked at the Dragon eggs and wondered how did the dragons in the eggs picked. Would she have to do something once she got up their? what would the dragon be like? Would she be picked? Many questions ran through her head even though Eragon told them they would be picked. Atlanta mentally shakes her head she couldn't think like that she remember all the scoldings to be positive. Atlanta remember her teacher had yelled at her and said "why can't you be like every other child? why most you push at your boundary's? why do you always have to act different?" She had gotten a good beaten but she would never give in, she liked being different she liked feeling unique she liked thinking other thoughts than other.

[Kerim]

From the moment they had set foot on Nyreloi, up to right now, Richard was impressed by how it looks. Nyreloi had been untouched by human hands for so long, that the wilds were actually wild, and the city, at least some parts, sometimes appeared to be capable of just flowing on into the wilds. He decided he liked this place. It wasn't like the city he'd been in, where the people had no, or barely any respect for nature, and just expanded where they wanted and could.

He looked up at the platform, at Eragon. Listening to the things he had to say, afterwards listening to Saphira. He would be one of the first to stand up, being interested in dragons, but one part of her speech stopped him, left him standing there. The part about destiny. He did not like anyone talking about destiny, especially if it was about his. He wanted to be a free man, didn't want to be bound by a concept such as fate, destiny, or something like a writer of his stories. *cough*

While the change of speaker happened, and Eragon left, Richard looked around at the others who were at that place. One guy looked like a kid he used to play with as a child, and as names were called, that thought was confirmed. He didn't really know that guy anymore, but maybe he could get to know him again. There was also a woman, carrying a scythe, and wearing a healers costume. He didn't really know what to think about her. He himself was just wearing his normal attire, while others seemed to have dressed up.

"Well, Richard? Two eggs remain. Why don't you come and find out which is yours?" A man said, and Richard shook up from his daydreams. He looked up at the man, and saw he was eyeing him carefully. He looked back for a little, then he walked up on the platform, wondering what the dragon would be like. He felt a tingling in his skin as he walked closer and closer towards the remaining eggs. When he stood in front of the first of the two eggs, a light blue one. he put his hand on it. He waited, nothing happened. He then walked towards the other egg, and he felt his hand being pulled towards it as it got closer to it.

His fingers touched the egg, and it felt like a shock going through him. A warm feeling went through him, filling him with joy. Under his hand, the shell of the egg cracked. A small, cute face came through it. It was red, just like the shell of the egg, with green eyes, piercing with all the red surrounding it. Though others mostly felt joy for being chosen as a rider, Richard's emotion was not about him. It was fascination, Fascination about the dragon, how cute, but still how beautiful it was.

He did, however, care for it how the small dragon climbed over his arm, and settled on his shoulder. He looked at the dragon, and at the pieces of the egg lying on the table. He wanted to have a remembrance of this day, and took a small piece of it. He was one for keeping keepsakes, to remember all the major things happening by. He then walked to the place where the others went also, running a finger over the scales of the dragon on his shoulder.

[Ellri]

~ Several kilometers away ~

Máttug flew beside Galralde, directly towards Hall Du Skulgrind. They had been far out into the wilderness, though Galralde had not been aware that Máttug had been there. There was a particularly nice stretch of sandy desert dunes out there, a favored place for the soothing of sore scales. Galralde had come out there for just that purpose but had not known Máttug would be there... Just as Máttug had planned. Galralde had landed in the sand and was rolling around therein, feeling safe. No land predator would dare attack attack a grown dragon unprovoked.

Naturally that did not include Máttug, who had mastered the art of swimming beneath the sand. Máttug shot out from beneath the surface of the sand, pouncing upon the blissfully unaware Galralde, claws out so that no injury would result. Galralde, for obvious reasons, was totally unaware, even as Máttug pushed him into the loose sand dune. As expected, Galralde reacted with shock, even as he trumpeted out "Máttug!"

Because of its relatively larger body, Máttug was careful not to harm Galralde, even as he laughed at having caught him off guard. Letting him up, Máttug drew back and sent a small thought to Galralde, "Hunting time! The hatchlings will need food!"

Máttug kicked off from the loose sand, flapping to gain some height, then easily locating a warm updraft, flying in lazy circles as Galralde strove to regain composure and follow him up. Or at least decide to do that. Máttug knew Galralde had a habit of making slow decisions. Unfortunately, it was not sufficient to make the decisions for him, though he tried. After some time, he did make it and they flew off to hunt.

It was a nice hunt, the prey cooperative, and soon they were flying back to Hall Du Skulgrind, Galralde carrying one horse, Máttug two. Máttug sensed that Galralde was communicating with his rider, but did not listen in. Though Máttug did not really dislike Galralde's rider, the freedom of no rider was preferable, especially to a dry, no-nonsense personality like Aaron's. After the annoying buzz of the private communication faded, Galralde doubled his pace, obviously eager to get back.

"The hatching has begun?" Máttug quested out towards Galralde.
Galralde confirmed that, so Máttug pushed on, eager to get back. It had, after all, been years since the last choosing.
Come, Galralde. There is no time to loose. The hatchlings will be hungry.

It did not take them long to get back. Grown dragons can cover great distance when they strive for it. Flying in a tight spiral, Máttug passed right over the crowd, just as the last of the chosen eggs hatched, revealing a white-scaled little dragon. Máttug ripped open the largest of the two horses, dropping it before the hatchlings, ready to feast upon. Having done that, Máttug flew to a nearby platform, alighting there and watching the new riders. Máttug looked up at them as they stood on a single line.
"Kvetha Bjartskular un Shur'tugalar! Eta nú!

{translation of phrase: Greetings brightscales and riders! Eat now!}

[ANate]

Sathir stood among those who were to participate in the choosing; he knew that he would finally meet his dragon today. He could remember, all those years ago, when Eragon had come. It had been an otherwise quiet day; the sound that had broken it all was that of wing beats and the thump of a dragon landing. Eragon had called for anyone who wished to become a Rider to step forward, no matter the age. Sathir’s parents hadn’t been with him. He stepped forward in curiosity. He had felt, from the general direction of Eragon, something that had touched his mind itself. It had made a direct connection, one that could not be erased. But it had had an effect; his mind had noticed and for the first time had thrown up defenses. The wild imagination of childhood fed these defenses, making them strong, so very strong. And to this day, they remained.

Sathir had never been trained in defending the mind. Anything he had was a result of personal exploration into what he could do. And there had been a lack of people to attempt to invade his mind. Now, standing here, he had felt Sundavrgarm reach out into his mind. He knew that the elf wasn’t holding any malicious intent, so he opened up one small crack that let the elf in. Everywhere else was still up. He supposed that Sundavrgarm could get in just as easily without Sathir’s help, having been trained to do so. But he might as well give a show of good faith; after all, the elf was a constant presence around the Riders.

The names were called, with Sathir only vaguely feeling that one of them was familiar (he didn’t fully think about it, as his mind was on finally meeting his dragon) and the ceremony began. Sathir stepped swiftly, and was among the first. He had waited for this day for so long... and it had come at last. He looked about as he drew near. Where… where is… ah. There. He knew that the egg there, just a little ways to the left of the center of the cluster of eggs, was the current residence of his partner. He could feel, through that one conduit formed long ago, an equal joy and anticipation. He reached for the green egg, years of longing being fulfilled in this one motion. His hand came into contact with the egg, and both minds rejoiced. A crack appeared; then another, and another. The remnants of the shell were scattered as the most beautiful creature in the world (to Sathir, anyway) burst forth.

Their eyes met in wonder and amazement, both curious about the other. Sathir’s hand had the palm facing upwards, and the dragon rested its head there as Sathir’s fingers cradled it and rubbed the youthful scales along its neck. The strange sensation of the appearance of the Gedwëy Ignasia caused a sharp inhalation of breath, but Sathir didn’t make any more of a sound than that. He looked at this new creature, this new acquaintance with anticipation. He let the dragon climb up his arm to perch on his head.

Looking around, he realized that the dragon was a bit longer and skinnier than most that had hatched for the others. It matched Sathir perfectly. He looked at the shell of the egg, and at his dragon. He hadn’t been one for superstition, but an old one that was sworn by among the families of travelling merchants was that, upon a birth, two things of significance were to be kept; one by the child born and the other by its mother or father. Sathir obviously wasn’t the mother, but he felt the superstition would hold in this instance. He took two pieces of eggshell that he noticed fit together, and placed them in a pocket. He could possibly make one into a necklace for himself. The piece that belonged to his dragon would take some time to figure a way to let his dragon keep it with him; perhaps something that he could tie around a spine? In any case, he turned himself and walked to where the others were gathering.

When Máttug flew overhead and dropped the horse, his dragon leapt off his head and scurried towards the fresh feast. Sathir turned his head a little to follow the motion of his dragon. As he did so, he saw someone he recognized. From long ago, back in Algaesia. What was his name- and then he remembered when he had recognized the name as it was called. Richard, he thought. He stepped closer to the other man. “I-I think I know you,” he said to him, haltingly.

[redscarlett]

Atlanta watched Richard go to the long table with the remaining eggs, he touched the red egg. She watched in awe as the egg showed movement as not long after that a new dragon hatched from its egg. It was a brilliant red, just like its shell but more glamorous. She wondered if all dragons where the same color as their shell. Atlanta saw Richard touch his dragon and marked with Gedwëy ignasia. Anticipation, she would be called on next to step up to the table and touch the last egg. It was white was her dragon to be white since all the others were the same color as their shells.

Atlanta slowly registered her name being called it was distant only the sound of the madly beating of her heart. It drummed in her ears her eyes focused on the last egg as she walked carefully up to it. She tried not to do anything clumsy like fall or trip like she had seen others do. As Atlanta neared the table she felt this overwhelming urge to go to the table and touch the White egg. She swallowed nervously as she reached the table and edged near towards the egg, she thought she could see its brilliant Ivory colors swirl.

Atlanta genitally touched the top of the egg with her pointer finger she was shocked as she felt a strong response from inside of the egg. A small hole appeared in the egg it quickly got bigger she could swear she saw and eye. The white egg started to shake and broke into big pieces but managed to stay whole finally a white head pushed through a hole, she quickly saw blood on the hatching eye and shell. Atlanta sucked in the poor thing was injured while hatching it had a nasty looking cut over its eye. It let out a loud peep she quickly touched its forehead trying to calm it and suddenly a Gedwëy ignasia appeared taking her breath as she tried not to recognize pain.

Atlanta looked at her dragon he was pure white, he was smaller than most hatchlings and definitely skinny compared to others. She offered her arm to him which he gingerly climbed since his claws were still underdeveloped she could tell they would harden in time. She took out a handkerchief and wiped his injured eye. He let out a weird sound it came across to her a mix of pain and happiness. He opened his eyelid reveling a stunning blue eye it was uninjured despite his cut on his eyelid. He was so adorable his white scales shinned brilliantly they were softer than an adult dragons yet hard at the same time.

Atlanta picked up a piece of his broken egg shell with the sharp piece that had cut his eyelid so she could always remember this wonderful day. Her heart grew warm with the affection for her dragon. He was her dragon as she was his rider equally important equally valued. She almost laughed as stretched his tiny white body and curl around her shoulders clearly liked playing with her long black hair. He looked lazy but she could tell he was very wary of his surroundings his blue eyes flicked from person to person eying them waiting as daring them to come towards him.

When Máttug dropped the horse she was frightened for a bit, her dragon let out a squeak as he felt her fear and took a defensively perched on her shoulders. Giving every one the evil eye watching them and letting out angry warning signs when ever he thought some one or something was to close to her. It became apparent she would have to grab him and put him near the horse. She walked carefully towards the horse trying not to act frightened so her dragon could calm down. When she got close enough she grabbed her dragon who gave a squeak probably about how that was rude. Atlanta set him on the ground and gave him a genital push towards the horse. He got it at last and ran towards the horse eagerly taking a chunk out of it. When ever a bigger hatchling tried to push him away he would hiss and take this aggressive stance.

[Mercenary Lord]

Aaron watched the proceedings with interest. The new riders seemed to be overjoyed, which was to be expected. He couldn't conceal a grin, and turned to Gal. You brought something to feed them, right?

Yes. Mattug and I hunted swiftly, and we brought back plenty of food.

Good. Aaron turned back to Sundavrgarm. "Garm, I think you're correct. The three you pointed out seem to have incredible potential. I was wondering if you had any opinions on them, after a bit more examination?" Aaron refrained from looking into the candidates minds, as he had felt the feeling when he had been Chosen, and he disliked the feeling intensely. "I'm sure you have some form of feeling toward them, yes?"

Sundavrgarm looked to his friend, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. His soft, amber eyes contrasted his dark fur, while complementing it well at the same time. He decided that speaking in Aaron's native tongue would be okay now, so he took a moment to reply. "Yes..." He began slowly, "They are each quite different. Sathir, I was able to tell, had a very small block in his head. It was not a very... er... sturdy defense, but it was present nonetheless. He allowed me entrance, as a sign of good faith." The elf turned his gaze back to the Riders as their newly hatched dragons began to feed. His speech had been very slow, and it was difficult for him to think of the exact words to use, so he switched back to the Ancient Language. "I hope that using mine native tongue will not be a problem, my friend, but your language is so... guttoral and choppy that I can never seem to find the proper words which I seek. The others did not seem to notice my touch, but I did not intrude upon their minds greatly, I feel that that will be an event later, in itself. I know that my father does it differently, but we each have our own methods and I do not feel his should be mine." He noted, knowing that his friend was not one for having his mind enveloped by another. "If kept together long enough, I am quite positive they will share a strong, personal bond with one another as well." He said, looking back to Aaron finally, "When shall we begin?"

Aaron nodded. "It's no trouble for me, my friend. I forgot that you disliked my native tongue. Apologies for that." The Ancient Language was second nature to Aaron, having been trained in it's use for many years. "I was contemplating the pair of us taking on those three apprentices. Strictly speaking, I should not even be teaching yet, but We don't have enough Riders to have enough Elders to teach." He chuckled. "What would you say to the pair of us taking on the trio? You and I can make these three the best of the best."

Sundavrgarm smirked slightly, "I do believe that Grand Masters Eragon and Saphira-elda would approve... As they cannot continue teaching each apprentice on their own, with our numbers growing and both your skills and mine being at a knowledgeable level, they will agree. Though I do not wish to disrespect them, and therefore would like theirs and Ebrithil's blessing before we take students to be our own." He said, referring to Glaedr as Ebrithil as he was the teacher of Sundavrgarm.

Aaron nodded. "That won't be a problem." He reached out with his mind. Eragon's was locked up tight, and Saphira's along with it, but Glaedr's Eldunari was open. Aaron smiled in relief. It would have been difficult to have to wait. Glaedr, Ebrithil, would you ask Eragon and Saphira to contact me, please?

Of course. A moment, Aaron. It was a moment. Instantly, Eragon's conscious pressed up against his. Yes, Aaron? What is it?

Aaron was silent for a moment, contemplating. Ebrithil, would you consider allowing myself and Sundavrgarm to take on a trio of new riders as our joint apprentices? He sent the image of the three. The answer was not long in coming.

We will need to keep a close watch on you, simply to satisfy our worry, but neither myself nor Saphira has any objections. Serve the Order well, Aaron. The mind withdrew. Aaron glanced back at Sundavrgarm. "We've been given permission."

Sundavrgarm nodded, "Excellent." He showed little emotion, for his mind was elsewhere for the moment. His thoughts were on where the others had gone in such a hurry, his father had not said a word as to their whereabouts, so Sundavrgarm feared for their well-being. However, he took his new duty very seriously, and figured it would be a good time to introduce the new Shur'tugalar to the very important side of mental communication. He looked to the group which had shown so much potential moments ago and a moment later they would hear a voice, as if somewhat distant and in the back of their mind, calling to them.

Richard Nummer, Sathir Wendallsson, and Atlanta Falathiel, come. The elf's voice would sound the same out loud as it did their head, and he had used English to contact them. It was somewhat rough, holding a slight growl, but had a certain, alluring quality to it. There would be no question as to where it came from, as he was looking directly at them. His touch would be small, but of course they would hear him as his mind emanated a small, melodious tune whenever connected with another, even for a short amount of time.

Aaron cast his mind out to the Rider's Leader and his dragon, trying to discern their reason for leaving so suddenly. He met with little success. His mentor had the strongest of barriers around his mind. He could keep a magician out of his mind even if his arm had been severed from his elbow . It was extraordinary. Aaron looked back at the trio of new Riders. He motioned to Sundavrgarm, and descended the wooden stairs at the left of the platform. He approached the trio, and echoed his friend's words. "Come, new Riders. We have much to discuss. Sathir, Atlanta, Richard. Follow us, if you would."

Sundavrgarm walked beside his friend down the stairs, his hands still behind his back. The young Riders were so enthralled with their dragons, it fascinated him partially, but another part of him was still preoccupied. He looked over to Aaron, "You know what we have not done in a long time, my friend? Sparred," The elf noted with a small smirk, "If I remember properly, it has been at least a full moon, perhaps more, since our last."

Aaron laughed quietly. "Indeed!It has been a while. Mostly because you get so incredibly difficult to talk to when I triumph every time." He chuckled.

Sundavrgarm eyed him questioningly, "Oh is that what you believe?" He gave a small laugh, "Well, perhaps this evening we should give the young Shur'tugalar a demonstration." The elf gave his friend a small bow with his head before facing the trio once more, awaiting their approach, "But perhaps it would be better to await word from our Ebrithilar."

Aaron shook his head. "I disagree. We've already become Ebrithil ourselves, and a demonstration might be just the thing these apprentices need." In truth, the pair were equally matched in most regards, with only a miniscule advantage over each other at different areas. Aaron at swordplay, and Sundavrgarm at Wizard Dueling. The entire exchange occurred in the ancient tongue, so the new riders were left out of the conversation. Aaron glanced behind him. "Well, we should probably stop talking in this tongue, and since I know how much you hate our language, we might as well stay silent altogether. Shall we take them to their quarters? Or shall we take them to the grand hall, and begin their instruction right away?"

Sundavrgarm nodded, "I agree..." He smiled once more before letting it fade a moment later. "I believe that it would be best to take them to the Grand Hall, though not for a too exhausting lesson, they will be anxious and wish to go to their rooms and spend the evening with their new partners. So let us take them to the hall, lay out how we shall be instructing them, perhaps demonstrate some of the things they will learn, and then take them to their rooms for one of the most interesting nights of their life. However, if you find a direction you would rather take it, I will support it." He then stayed his tongue, ready to begin their evening.

Aaron chuckled once more. "Agreed. The Grand Hall it is." He reverted to the Human tongue, and looked behind him. "Quickly now, Riders! Don't fall behind!"

[redscarlett]

Atlanta was looking at the other two apprentices they were both males so she felt a little weird being the only girl, when she heard a voice in her head. Atlanta quickly knew who it was coming from she also heard Aaron speak out loud beckoning the Apprentices into the great Hall. Atlanta looked at the other apprentices to see what they were doing she was about to follow the instructors when she felt this weight against the lower part of her leg.


Atlanta looked down it was a dragon it still amazed her he was her's and no one else, she picked up him he was a little heavier since he just stuffed him self with horse meat. She let him climb up her arms and to her shoulder and lay across her shoulders. Since she had smaller shoulders than a guy's he wrapped around the back of her neck. His ivory white scales were warm with his body heat.

Atlanta followed behind Richard and his red dragon, she looked at her teachers she could over hear pieces of their conversation but it was forien to her, they went into the great hall it was large. It took her breath away as a lowly daughter of the villages healers she never seen anything as well good as this. Her white robe flew in the wind, it was one of her best robes her mother had just finished it. All her others wear similar but older and more ruggedly. Atlanta made sure her scythe didn't hit her dragon of bother him, He actually seemed unaware of it.

Atlanta stared at her surrounding trying to take in everything, trying to remember what the rooms looked liked and how to get there. It was confusing but she tried her best and quickly memorized how to get where from point A to point B. Atlanta felt her dragon start to fall asleep but quickly tried to wake it self up. It would hiss when it found something threatening or someone was to close to her, she thought it was sweet but unnecessary.

[Rethel34]

Lucius lurked in the shadows of the crowd, unnoticed by most, and the few who took notice of him quickly moved away. Nothing that was uncommon to him. He wasn't handsome, by any means. In fact, he himself even thought his image was somewhat repulsive, especially when his eye was revealed.

He lifted his hand to his right eye, which was covered by his hair. Why was I given this? he thought. Surely, there must be some purpose to me other than a target for people to fire insults at.

He watched as Eragon took his leave for reasons left unmentioned, and Aaron stepped forward and completed the ceremony. It was a more than decent performance for his first time, and he watched young villagers from the city of Skulgrind become Riders one at a time.

One man's image and name stuck with him that day. Sathir Wendalsson. Even through the barriers he had placed around his mind, he could feel the joy that emanated from the new pair as the dragon hatched and beheld its Rider with its own eyes. He knew that was how a dragon and Rider should feel together.

At this, Lucius bowed his head, overcome with grief. He felt the one thing he knew he would at this ceremony: the sadness that he would probably never know such joy. He knew it was likely he would never become a Rider. He wasn't brought to Skulgrind, like many there, but he had been born there seventeen years ago. Born to a Rider. A Rider who would never see the city of Skulgrind again.

He lifted his head after a few minutes and saw the crowd was beginning to dissipate, and three riders were following Aaron and Sundavrgarm down the stairs at the left of the scaffold upon which they had been standing. Lucius knew he wasn't supposed to follow wherever it was that they were going, so he headed toward the castle, which had become his new home.

He entered a small door at the base of one of the great palace's towers, and followed a spiral staircase down toward the dungeons. "Brisingr," He muttered, and a small light appeared just above his palm. He was only able to summon a flame strong enough to give him a barely comfortable radius of light. He could have descended without the light, but it would show that he was there for any who might be wandering nearby.

It took a while, but eventually, Lucius arrived at his quarters. It wasn't fancy, but he had chosen it, and it was comfortable enough for him. The room was rectangular, most of its capacity to the left when Lucius entered the room.

All the way against the left wall stood Lucius's straw cot. Next to it on the far wall was a small table with only a lamp and a volume of Domia abr Wyrda resting atop it. On either side of the doorway were two torches, which Lucius lit upon entering.

At the opposite end of the wall where the bed and table were positioned was a chair and desk, atop which rested numerous sheets of parchment, some written on, some not, a few scrolls, another lamp, and an inkbottle and quill.

Built into the same wall a the door was a large bookcase, which held several tomes and scrolls, but they were too few to actually fill the shelves. The floor was swept clean, with a small circular rug in the center into whch the yawë had been stitched.

Other than the torches and bookcase, the walls were bare and had no windows. Sure it was dismal to most people, but Lucius found it easy to concentrate in the room, so he was comfortable.

Lucius pulled the door shut once the torches had been lit. Moving toward the desk, he whispered, "Brisingr!" once more and the lamp came to life with dancing flames. He sat down and began jotting down all that had happened that day at the Choosing. This time he did something different, though. He wrote this in the symbols of the Ancient Language.