Arianna Selenasdaughter
Arianna
Sitting across the table from Brom, I thought of the first time I’d come to see him. It was after my terrible “nightmare” when I was eight years old. That was eight years ago. I knew a lot more now then I did then.
My nightmare was actually a premonition, and it seemed that no matter what path I decided I was going to choose, I ended up in the same place: the King’s court. I was no guest, however. I was a prisoner. But this was not part of the nightmare. The nightmare was of black-hooded creatures and burning barns. I saw my Uncle tortured, my twin hunting them with Brom, and me getting captured.
I told no one the details of the nightmare – not even Brom. My father. How strange that I knew, when Eragon did not. I wasn’t going to tell him either. It was better that he didn’t know. Besides, I’d figured it out by myself. He could do the same if he put his mind to it.
“Arianna, focus.” Brom told me sternly.
I’d been studying with Brom since having my first premonition. I knew I was going to need to know the ancient language in order to protect Eragon. I wasn’t sure yet why he needed to be protected, only that the king was going to be looking for him, and he would do anything to get the information. I wasn’t going to be his tool. I’d rather die than betray my brother.
I looked down at the papers in front of me continued studying. My uncle, Garrow, had ceased pestering me with pointless questions as to why I spent so much time with Brom a long time ago. As long as I got my chores done, I was allowed to do whatever I wanted. Also, Eragon was off hunting, so it was like a free pass to Brom’s.
Towards the end of our makeshift lessons, I also got to create a fairths. The first one I ever made was of Brom. It came out kind of funny looking, but at least it was a fair resemblance. The most noticeable aspect of it was his nose. I was glad I’d inherited most of my mother’s features. No offense to Brom – I loved him, and was glad I was his daughter, but my vain side was proud of my beauty.
For today, my fairth was of Brom. I fixed the image of Brom in my mind, and recited, “Let that which I see in my mind’s eye be replicated on the surface of this tablet,” in the ancient language. It came out perfectly. Much better than the first time I’d tried so many years ago. Smiling to myself, I handed it to Brom, who smiled slightly before handing it back.
“It’s growing late, Arianna. You should return home now. Garrow will be getting worried. After all, Eragon’s still in the Spine, so he’s probably worried enough as it is.”
I exhaled dejectedly, and he smiled again.
“Until next time, my daughter.”
It was always weird, knowing that Brom was my father but not being able to properly acknowledge the fact. It just seemed wrong. I hugged Brom before I headed off on my long walk to the farm.
I never took my fairths with me, but I had some blank ones at home for when I wanted to make ones of Garrow, Roran, or Eragon. As fate would have it, I stumbled upon Eragon on my way home. He was holding a stone in his hand, and cursing Sloan to the fiery pits of hell.
Apparently, he wouldn’t accept it as trade for some meat because it came from the Spine. Horst bought him some in exchange for Eragon’s work come springtime. Even so, I knew our uncle wouldn’t be pleased that Horst bought meat for us.
He hated charity. People in Carvahall were always way too willing to give us things. It irritated Garrow more than anything else.
The stone Eragon held was large and polished. Very pretty. I was sure Garrow would have some idea of what to do with it. The traders were due to come to town soon. He’d try to get rid of it then.
When we reached the house, Eragon knocked on the door, announced himself, and we were let inside. Eragon sat down at the table across from Garrow, and I kissed him on the cheek and said goodnight. I was weary from my studies, and wished to get up early the next morning to tackle my chores so that I could get back to town. Once winter came, I knew I wouldn’t have as many chances to go to town because of the weather conditions.
I blew out my candle, and turned on my side. It didn’t take long for sleep to take me, and I gladly succumbed to the darkness that was so willing to take me.
My nightmare was actually a premonition, and it seemed that no matter what path I decided I was going to choose, I ended up in the same place: the King’s court. I was no guest, however. I was a prisoner. But this was not part of the nightmare. The nightmare was of black-hooded creatures and burning barns. I saw my Uncle tortured, my twin hunting them with Brom, and me getting captured.
I told no one the details of the nightmare – not even Brom. My father. How strange that I knew, when Eragon did not. I wasn’t going to tell him either. It was better that he didn’t know. Besides, I’d figured it out by myself. He could do the same if he put his mind to it.
“Arianna, focus.” Brom told me sternly.
I’d been studying with Brom since having my first premonition. I knew I was going to need to know the ancient language in order to protect Eragon. I wasn’t sure yet why he needed to be protected, only that the king was going to be looking for him, and he would do anything to get the information. I wasn’t going to be his tool. I’d rather die than betray my brother.
I looked down at the papers in front of me continued studying. My uncle, Garrow, had ceased pestering me with pointless questions as to why I spent so much time with Brom a long time ago. As long as I got my chores done, I was allowed to do whatever I wanted. Also, Eragon was off hunting, so it was like a free pass to Brom’s.
Towards the end of our makeshift lessons, I also got to create a fairths. The first one I ever made was of Brom. It came out kind of funny looking, but at least it was a fair resemblance. The most noticeable aspect of it was his nose. I was glad I’d inherited most of my mother’s features. No offense to Brom – I loved him, and was glad I was his daughter, but my vain side was proud of my beauty.
For today, my fairth was of Brom. I fixed the image of Brom in my mind, and recited, “Let that which I see in my mind’s eye be replicated on the surface of this tablet,” in the ancient language. It came out perfectly. Much better than the first time I’d tried so many years ago. Smiling to myself, I handed it to Brom, who smiled slightly before handing it back.
“It’s growing late, Arianna. You should return home now. Garrow will be getting worried. After all, Eragon’s still in the Spine, so he’s probably worried enough as it is.”
I exhaled dejectedly, and he smiled again.
“Until next time, my daughter.”
It was always weird, knowing that Brom was my father but not being able to properly acknowledge the fact. It just seemed wrong. I hugged Brom before I headed off on my long walk to the farm.
I never took my fairths with me, but I had some blank ones at home for when I wanted to make ones of Garrow, Roran, or Eragon. As fate would have it, I stumbled upon Eragon on my way home. He was holding a stone in his hand, and cursing Sloan to the fiery pits of hell.
Apparently, he wouldn’t accept it as trade for some meat because it came from the Spine. Horst bought him some in exchange for Eragon’s work come springtime. Even so, I knew our uncle wouldn’t be pleased that Horst bought meat for us.
He hated charity. People in Carvahall were always way too willing to give us things. It irritated Garrow more than anything else.
The stone Eragon held was large and polished. Very pretty. I was sure Garrow would have some idea of what to do with it. The traders were due to come to town soon. He’d try to get rid of it then.
When we reached the house, Eragon knocked on the door, announced himself, and we were let inside. Eragon sat down at the table across from Garrow, and I kissed him on the cheek and said goodnight. I was weary from my studies, and wished to get up early the next morning to tackle my chores so that I could get back to town. Once winter came, I knew I wouldn’t have as many chances to go to town because of the weather conditions.
I blew out my candle, and turned on my side. It didn’t take long for sleep to take me, and I gladly succumbed to the darkness that was so willing to take me.