Concentration. (Open)

[Arandur]

Arandur waved Aren's formalities aside. "Not Elder. I'm not that old. Just Arandur will be fine. As for what you use..." The Elder looked around, then pointed out the door. "At the sparring grounds I've got two practice swords. They're certainly not Deloi," The handsome elf's hand went to his sword at his waist, "But they do work well in this instance. Let's go." Arandur put a hand across his chest, holding the cloak into place, and walked out of the room, beckoning for the two apprentices to follow. While they walked, Arandur alternated between talking to Aren and Maerina and M'tachi and the dragons.

"We might as well give some details of our lives so we know each other. I am a Haldin-that should tell you quite a lot about where I grew up-and M'tachi hatched for me at about ten. My sword is named Deloi, or earth. My Silver Hand is my left, and I am right-handed." He raised his sharply arched eyebrows at the apprentices. "Does that surprise you at all? Anyways. I have been with M'tachi for forty two years, which makes me fifty two. Like I said." A dry chuckle of amusement came from the Elder as he adjusted his cloak over his left arm. "I am not that old." Above them, M'tachi spoke to the dragons and the apprentices alike.

To them, Arandur, you are. Aren. Nice. I have yet to meet your dragon, Jamr, but I'm sure it will be interesting. Arandur spars a lot, as you may see by Deloi, and he is taken to create...

"...my own techniques..."

...so I wouldn't think of challenging him yet. Oh, and by the way, this will probably either be the worst couple hours of your life...

"...or the best..."

..depending on your level of endurance. He likes to push you. But there is a special treat today, so if you don't fall over...

"...from exhaustion there is something to..."

...reward you..

"...for your hard work." Arandur looked at Aren cooly. "Now, before M'tachi and I give you a headache, why don't you tell me something about yourself and Jamr?" No smile had touched his lips throughout all of this, and no amusement was in his voice. It was just cold and level, unfeeling.

[Maërina Könungr]

Stumbling over her own feet, Maërina straightened up, blushing. She shouldn't be so clumsy, not this far into her training.... She cursed her luck.

She wasn't paying attention, just walking around like a corpse, with no feeling or thought besides that of her...failure. Her dragon repeatedly tried to speak with her, but she wouldn't let her. She wanted to be alone right now. In solitude, as normal. She almost cried when one of the apprentices- one who had spread horrible rumors about her, passed and giggled, pointing Maërina out to the other apprentice walking with her, then whispering.

When Maërina went to become a Rider, she had never planned for this. She ignored them, or tried to, following Aren and Arandur, yet lagging.

[Eragon Ládin]

Eragon was sitting at the sparring grounds, shirtless, his sword, Eld Moi in his left hand. The muscles rippled down his back, hardened by years of fighting and practicing. There were also scars, scars he had kept as reminders that everything comes with a price. He was admiring the sword, to be truthful. After all these years, it was still astounding to him. After many long years....

Bid'Daum he reached out, but his dragon seemed to be concentrating on something. He sighed, looking across the sparring grounds. He absentmindedly began picking strands of grass, weaving them into intricate shapes, until he formed what was originally planned- a grass dragon. Smiling, he blew it into the wind, and it flapped off, as alive as any dragon.

"To live at once, never ends,"he spoke to himself as he watched the dragon diminish into a single speck on the horizon. He shook his head, coming back to reality. He saw three figures walking towards him. Standing, he waited for them, his sword hanging from his left hand.

[Arandur]

Arandur's eyes widened in a bit of annoyance as Eragon appeared in his line of sight. M'tachi sensed this, and reached to his Rider. Relax. Today is not a lesson of magic, just of sparring. Thank goodness for that, because if it was one of magic...well, you don't want to do much magic with Eragon around.

And why not? Arandur demanded of his dragon.

Because of your arm. Was the simple reply that came from the silver dragon far above. Arandur touched the cloak over his arm protectively, and nodded his agreement.

"Aren, Maerina, do you know who is waiting for us at the sparring grounds? Eragon himself." Arandur was never one for titles, and so didn't bother with Eragon's full name or rank. He expected the apprentices to know who Eragon was. Why waste words in explaining? "Anyways, you will continue with the lesson despite his presence. I had hoped the grounds would be empty, but it appears not." His right hand resting on Deloi, the Elder walked the rest of the way to the sparring grounds in silence. He greeted Eragon tersely with the traditional form, then stood, waiting for the apprentices who were walking much slower than he.

"What brings you out here today, of all days?" Arandur was not curious, but was trying to be polite so he wouldn't anger the other Rider by his lack of respect for formalities. "I'm afraid that I have two young apprentices in tow, so if you had planned to be alone, I apologize. I didn't know you'd be here." His right hand tightened on Deloi, then moved up to the black cloak, adjusting it over his left arm.

[Eragon Ládin]

Eragon smiled when he saw who it was. He liked Arandur; Arandur didn't use the titles that most people did when addressing him, and that was a relief. He tired of all titles, especially since arriving back fom Ellesmera. He almost killed himself over how polite the elves there were. Few could remember how reckless elves used to be; Eragon, however, did remember. It saddened him to see how his people had changed, how he had changed. The Riders were practically a different race than elf now. But the formalities still weighed heavy on them. This was why Eragon had realized a long time ago that he would never find someone to love. Everyone bowed and scraped too much to see the "real" him.

He stood immediately when Arandur walked over to him. He too, greeted Arandur in the so-called 'traditional' way.

"No bother, Arandur," he spoke quietly,"I was in need of company anyway."

He studied the two apprentices thoughtfully, then brought Eld Moi up, examining the blade.

"I trust you have found Elder Arandur as a more than competent teacher. It would be wise of you to listen to his every word," he spoke to the apprentices, grimness coating his voice. He sighed.

"I'd like to watch if that's alright," he told Arandur, in more of a demanding than questioning tone. He stuck the point of his sword into the ground, leaning on it.

[Maërina Könungr]

Maerina's eyes widened just a hair when Arandur told the apprentices that Eragon was here. She had only seen him once before; and she sure didn't mind seeing him again. Her eyes scanned over his muscular torso without shame; nobody owned the sight of things, after all. And it wasn't hard at all to look at him. She then observed his quite demeanor. She was a bit surprised; she didn't expect the leader of their order to be so laid back.

And sad; yes she could see that, he was sad, though he was trying to hide it. It must be lonely, she thought to herself,to lead a life as he does.

She looked over at Aren, wondering how he would react to the sight of Eragon, the most powerful man in Alagaesia. She somehow felt a connection to people's emotions, a talent she had since she was young. And she didn't have to be 'inside their head' to know. It was just as natural at breathing. She could feel Arandur's discomfort and annoyance. He seemed almost intimidated by Eragon, but maybe not quite. She smiled as she studied everyone, suddenly feeling relaxed

[Aren Dröttningu]

Aren followed Arandur out of the room and nudged Maërina.

"I am so going to win." He shot her a grin, then sped up so he was walking beside Arandur.

"I'm a Dröttningu, so I grew up in Ellesmera. I've always had a love for nature and it has a love for me. Jamr hatched for me when I was 11, I believe, and I can't remember life without him. My Silver-Hand is on my right hand and it glows the color of Jamr when I use magic. Obviously...I don't have a sword." He continued walking beside Arandur, tying his hair back.

Aren grinned when Arandur and M'tachi started mixing their words and talking about sparring.

"Sparring is one of my favorite training exercises. I will try my best and I will someday defeat you." Aren gave Arandur and grin, then rolled his shoulders. "I'm ready."

When the trio got the the sparring grounds, they were approached by Eragon. Aren's eyes widened for a moment, but seeing that Maërina was watching him, he made his face blank and listened quietly.

[Arandur]

Arandur liked Eragon immensely, to tell the truth. So when the other Rider told him to relax, Arandur's shoulders sagged gratefully. "I hate that." He said quietly, looking at the two apprentices. "I'm not old enough to care about formalities much. Give me thirty thousand more years, and maybe I will. Otherwise..." The elf shrugged, not really caring enough to make his conversation either interesting or polite.

When Eragon asked if he could watch, M'tachi gave the Rider a toothy grin. You've been watching us since we were hatchlings, Eragon. Don't bother asking, because neither of us will turn you away and you know that Arandur wouldn't care if you sat on Deloi for a month and didn't let him come near it! The silver dragon snorted, then looked at the Rider more carefully, closing his mind to the apprentices. Eragon. M'tachi's voice was heavy, and rather worried. Is there something wrong? Because, you know, Arandur and I... The dragon trailed off, worried. Arandur and I are always there for you and Bid'Daum. You two have basically been there since Day One. Just because your position changes doesn't mean that we trust each other less. Arandur put his right hand on his friend's shoulder as he walked by, then let it fall off.

"Spare the formalities, Aren, Maerina, you two have class and time waits for no one! Your practice swords are over there," Arandur pointed with his right hand to a flat rock where two plain practice blades sat neatly next to one another. "I want to see how well you two fight! Come on, come on, we haven't all day!" The Elder adjusted his cloak, muttered something about 'getting that tailor', then pointed, again with his right hand, towards the sparring grounds.

"Aren, this is day one for you! Lesson one! I say run, you run! Two! I say jump, you say 'How high?' Three! No complaints! When I was an apprentice they did far worse than to make you spar, so I don't want to hear a word of it!" In a second, Arandur's voice had gone from friendly conversation to drill sergeant, and it offered no room for questions. When Arandur said to do something, it got done.

[Eragon Ládin]

Eragon smiled lightly an Arandur.

"Eh, if you were older, Arandur, you wouldn't care a wit at all for formalities. To tell the truth, we elves weren't always like this. In fact, you could say that it was the dragons who made us this way."

Eragon smiled as M'tachi said his piece out loud.

"You know I would never ask that. If I did, may lightning strike me, and Arandur, you should have enough gut to stand up to something that foolish, even if it was me, to call yourself a Dragon Rider." Eragon chuckled, but most of his usual delight was not there.

I'm fine, truly, he told the older pair, a few things have just been troubling me since I came back from Du Weldenvarden he reassured them, but didn't sound very convincing.

He was thinking more now. You could actually say it was his fault that the elves had changed so. But he didn't really have a choice, did he? If he didn't raise Bid'Daum, the war wouldn't have ended, and the elves and dragons would have kept slaughtering each other until one race became extinct. Eragon shuddered at the thought, feeling uneasy and on edge.

And as to the matter of love...well, he'd rather not think of it. Why was it bothering him now, when long ago he had decided it wasn't for him? It troubled him, and in turn, worried Bid'Daum.

Eragon smiled as he heard Arandur barking orders. He had always admired the younger elf, even though he was no longer considered young. And M'tachi also. He and Bid'Daum seemed to get along well.

Eragon pondered more as he watched Arandur's apprentices, slightly amused

[Arandur]

Arandur watched the apprentices with a stern eye, but every chance he got he turned his attention to Eragon. He's not alright. The Elder said to M'tachi. There's something serious bothering him.

I know.

Why doesn't he say anything to us?

Because he is proud. And he wishes not to worry us with his troubles.

I would not consider it a burden, not if it was Eragon.

He does not know that, Arandur. Relax. Watch the apprentices.

How can I watch them spar while my friend sits there as if he holds the weight of the world on his shoulders?

Arandur. M'tachi's voice was stern. He does.

But, how can that be? He saved us all! He used to be so light, so caring, so free-spirited. As the years go on, must I sit and watch while my friend slowly looses all of what he once was?

It is not your place to say-

It IS my place! Arandur roared at M'tachi. The silver dragon recoiled sharply with his mind, and there was a moment when Rider and dragon stood staring at one another. Then, slowly, M'tachi touched Arandur's mind again. The Elder continued. He was there ten years ago. He was there then. As his friend, I cannot sit by and watch while he falls, bit by bit, into an oblivion that I cannot even hope to comprehend. My hand is a reminder of this, M'tachi. Every day when I dress and I pin my cloak over my arm I am forced to remember that day, ten years ago. So don't tell me that I can't be there for my friend, regardless of his rank.

I am sorry, little one. But he will not burden you with his troubles, even though you do not see it as a burden.

I just wish he would. Arandur turned sad eyes away from his friend, then looked at Maerina and Aren, trying to get his friend out of his mind and to focus on the task at hand.

[Eragon Ládin]

Eragon frowned when Arandur didn't respond, but thought nothing of it. He wondered if Arandur had maybe seen through his....fake aura. That's what it was. Fake. He sure hoped not. His eyes landed on the sparring apprentices. Smiling, he remembered the days when he was but a stripling, and he and Bid'Daum flew freely through the skies. Long, long ago....

The wind stirred up around Eragon, brushing across his bare back. He grimaced slightly, but otherwise ignored the chill that had formed goosebumps. It blew at his short hair also. Not very strong, but strong enough for him to notice it. Taking another breath, Eragon closed his eyes, listening to the land and creatures around him. They told him their story, though he only listened for a moment. Ellesmera was so different from Vroengard. Eragon looked over at his friend.

"Would you care to spar afterwards, Arandur?"Eragon suddenly asked, seemingly out of nowhere. He turned his attention towards Eld Moi, and smiled.

"Eld Moi has rested for too long,"he chuckled sadly, examining the blade for a moment. It still gleamed as white as when it was forged. He marveled at the talent that made it.

[Maërina Könungr]

Maërina sighed as she ran over quickly, and grabbed a practice sword. She smiled lightly as she heard Arandur order Aren. It was much like her first day as an apprentice. She faced Aren, and as Arandur said, spared those pesky formalities. She was a bit distracted by the moods of Eragon and Arandur- Arandur's was fairly strong, but Eragon's seemed to be screaming in her face.

Anyway, she faced Aren, and then tried to take him by surprise, by striking with no warning. She smirked as she did so, excited for a challenge for once. A challenge she actually had a chance to defeat, unlike Arandur.

[Arandur]

An impish smile crossed Arandur's face, and for a moment he looked about ten years old, when M'tachi had hatched for him. "Would I ever! I've waited too long to use Deloi, really use him, and I don't think I've touched it since I became an Elder! Silver and white meet once again, Eragon! Just wait. I'll get you this time!" A small chuckle came from the usually serious Elder, and M'tachi gave Eragon a small grin, closing his mind from Arandur.

He has become rather melancholy as the elves change. I believe that we all do. It will do him good to have a spar with you. Just don't beat him too badly, hmm? As the silver dragon turned back to his Rider, he found Arandur focused completely on the students' sparring lesson.

"Don't hurt each other! I have no intention of healing you, or doing any kind of magic. The blades should be already dulled!" The Elder shouted, not caring that M'tachi had closed his mind to him.

The dragon turned back to Eragon with a fond look in his eyes. This has taken a toll on all of us, and you most of all. Just don't forget us hatchlings. We'll be there. With that, M'tachi walked back over to Arandur and sat by his Rider's side, humming softly to himself.

[Eragon Ládin]

Eragon smiled lightly at Arandur's reaction, spirits raised a little. Arandur seemed to have a tendency to get excited for things, while Eragon took it all in stride. His attention turned to M'tachi when the silver dragon spoke to him. Eragon gave him a fond smile.

I don't believe I have become...melancholy, Eragon shrugged,but, I could be wrong. And I assure you, I won't

He listened to M'tachi once again after he watched Arandur order the apprentices about. He was amused at that scene, remembering when Arandur wasn't much more experienced than they.

Thankyou Eragon replied to the dragon, bowing his head slightly in acknowledgement. He sat against a fence at the side of the sparring grounds, with his legs swinging lightly in the air. He wished he could be as carefree as the elves he had met in Ellesmera.

"Duty is as heavy as a mountain, death as light as a feather," he whispered to himself, closing his eyes and listening to the sounds of the aprentices' sparring.

[Lindariel]

Lindariel had a headache, and it annoyed her. Looking up at the clear blue sky, she silently cursed it for its cheerfulness. The healer didn't know why she had agreed to live on Vroengard-the shouts and calls of the life of a Rider gave her migraines and she hated it. However, there were some perks to it. She was one of the older elves on the island, almost as old as Eragon himself, and so commanded a lot more respect on Vroengard then she did in Ellesmera.

Now, today, the shouts from the sparring grounds were particularly loud as she walked past. It was Arandur, of course. Lin snorted. She had patched him up more than a few times when he was an apprentice, but she liked him and his dragon. M'tachi was much more careful than his Rider, but the silver dragon had gotten himself injured a few times as well. As she walked up, Lin noticed Eragon sitting alone. Approaching silently from behind, Lin looked at the Rider curiously, and arrived just in time to hear him talk to himself.

"That is probably the worst saying that I have heard in my entire life." Lin announced her presence with sharp words, as always, and then leaned against her staff right beside the older elf. "And talking to yourself is a sign of mental illness, so I wouldn't do that if I were you." Her golden-brown eyes flickered with a hint of amusement, and she looked out at the sparring grounds.

"Arandur's up to his tricks again, I see." She was on the wrong side of the fence, she realized, and smoothly jumped it, landing on both feet right beneath the Rider. "I remember when he was much younger. And you as well. Sometimes I forget how old I am compared to them."