Jumping out of bed at the call of the 5 am bell so as not to fall back asleep, Lillea rocked back on her heels, shocked at how cold the floor was under her feet. After a full 8 hours of sleep, the morning did not hurt quite so badly. Daemon would expect her fairly shortly, she knew. The elven girl got ready with a quick efficiently, buckled on Stjornu, and left her warm room with plenty of time to spare. The walk to the Arena would take a fair span of minutes, and she would not be late. However, shivering in the cold air of the morning, Lillea was met with a surprise.

Volund was awake and waiting for her, crouching in the grass like a cat and watching her with half lidded eyes.

'You needn't be up so early,' she said a little guiltily, shivering delightedly as he gusted a warmth breath of air over her. 'I can walk. This should not be your problem.'

Volund snorted and seemed almost to roll his eyes, a habit he must have picked up from her. 'You are my problem, hatchling.' At her continued hesitation, he gave he a shove with his large head. 'Go and eat, you should not start your day with no nourishment. I will give you a ride once you are ready.' His tail twitched slowly back and forth.

Planting a kiss on his scaly neck, Lillea scampered off gratefully to grab a quick breakfast.

'You are the best.'

'I know.'

The two arrived in front of the arena with time to spare. Volund settled heavily on the grass, belying how tired he truly was. Yet she was glad he stayed for the time being, and she told him as much, cuddling up to his warm belly. He hummed deep in his throat, and an early morning drowsiness swept over the girl. It was only a few minutes though before a slick black shape crested the edge, and Daemon dismounted. Lillea sprung to her feet, then said a quick goodbye to her beast before he dove off the edge to return to his cave for a nap. She envied him more for that right now than she did for the fact that he could fly.

Daemon nodded a greeting, and Lillea nodded back, fighting a yawn and a shiver. She needed to start moving quickly before her limbs went numb. The two squared off, about 3 feet between them. Then, Daemon asked a surprising question:

"Why did you ask me to train you?"

Taken aback, Lillea answered obviously, "Because I need to get better."

"And," she added after a moment's thought, "because you are an excellent swordsman."

"As are you," he pointed out.

"Well, yeah," she said, shifting her weight with some frustration. Then, she realized what he was getting at. "But when looking for advancement, what they look for is strategy and how you can adapt to the fight. You know a great deal more than me," she admitted. "I want to learn what you know." Then, at his silence, she added quietly, "Master."

He nodded slowly. "I will teach you so long as we both believe you have something to learn from me," was all he replied. Then, he drew his sword.

A thought occurred to Lillea very suddenly, and before beginning she quickly asked, "Can we speak in human?"

Daemon raised a thick eyebrow.

"I want to learn," she said earnestly. After a moment's pause, he nodded. Then, he guarded his blade and indicated that she should do the same.

An hour later, Lillea was no longer cold. Far from it, in fact. She was dripping sweat, and still warm, the burning in her lungs and muscles warming her from the inside out. She quietly thanked Volund for encouraging her to eat before this training session.

Even after watching him fight with Marik, she still hadn't gained a full appreciation of the scope of Daemon's fighting skills. There was no easy victory, nor was any mistake of hers left unexploited. Her mother, of course, was a better fighter than even he. But Lillea always knew that going into the fight, and so she never took defeats to heart. Fighting with Daemon, however, brought out something else in her. Lillea wanted to win with far more passion than she ever felt against her mother. This was why Arya always encouraged sparring with peers, Lillea realized. Nobody but a peer could bring out the same drive nor encourage one to push themselves further than ever before with each match.

Daemon sheathed his sword, and Lillea retrieved hers from the grass where it lay a few feet away. She had won a couple matches, and there was a clear sheen of sweat covering her competitor. She should be satisfied, she had done well. Yet, she was not. Daemon shielded his eyes and looked at the sun. Lillea followed his gaze. If she was not mistaken, she had about 30 minutes to prepare for her next class.

As if sensing her thoughts, Daemon turned back to her and met her eye. If was exceedingly difficult to refrain from looking down and away, but Lillea forced herself to hold his gaze. She would not ask to be dismissed. If she did not get a shower before her course, so be it. Besides, Lillea was not sure she knew the word for 'dismissed' in human tongue.

Apparently satisfied, Daemon nodded. "That's good for the day. You may go," he said, speaking slowly and clearly for her benefit. "Meet me again in 2 days."

Lillea wrinkled her brow. "Not...tomorrow?"

Daemon shook his head. "I cannot do this every morning. I have other matters to attend to." At her confused expression, he tried again: "No, I am busy."

Clarity dawned and the girl nodded her understanding. She fidgeted with her tunic for a minute, trying to think of what was appropriate for humans to say as farewell. Unable to think of anything, she settled for a bow and darted off toward the bathhouse. Chancing a look over her shoulder, Lillea saw a smirk playing around Daemon's face. She flushed.

Just then Volund showed up to take her back.

'You are spoiling me,' she told him, climbing onto his back with a grin. 'Soon I shall forget how to use my legs for lack of use.'

He snorted and eyed her sardonically, but she felt warmth glow inside him from her inadvertent thanks.

'It likely would not matter much, you always seem to be late when you use those,' he teased. She flicked his neck playfully. A part of her was sad, however, as he dropped her off to gather her bath garments and quickly scrub off for class. She knew that he was trying to encourage her as much as possible to ensure that he did not have to go back to Ellesméra. A possibility that only existed for her negligence.

He sensed her somber thoughts. 'We are a team, hatchling,' he said tenderly. 'Whether we succeed or fail, we do it together.'

Her insides warmed at that, but her eyes filled with tears. They would not be going home, she determined while she finished getting ready for class. This was where they were meant to be, and she would prove it.

Class let out, and Lillea stood up, holding on to the best notes she had taken in her entire career of Dwarven language. She realized, however, how much she had missed. The more she desperately wrote down, the more questions she had. Weeks of inattention had garnered her reward for her. At least she had not been tired. After an early morning and brutal training session, Lillea fully anticipated a sleepy day of classes ahead. The early morning exercise seemed to have the opposite effect. She felt energized and purposeful. With that in mind, she set off toward the mess hall.

Ula, the dwarf she sat by during class, fell into step beside her.

"Hey," Lillea said shyly, holding her sheath of notes to her chest. Ula had every reason to hate her, particularly after what she had said last class.

"Hello fairy. You seem very frustrated," she grunted, then she nodded at the bundle of notes in Lillea's arms.

Lillea nodded, not bothering to hide her exasperation. "I think I'm hopeless," she admitted.

Ula paused for a minute as they entered the mess hall. "If it were Ancient or human, then yes, the case may be hopeless." Lillea cocked her head.

"Humans and fairies like to make up rules as they go, and bend them as they see fit," she continued gruffly. The two picked out cuisine from the line of food. "Dwarves do not do that. We like structure. Our language reflects that." They finished moving through the line, and Lillea hesitated, unsure of what to do.

Ula solved her dilemma neatly when, joining a group of 4 other students, she grunted to Lillea, "Come. Sit." Lillea sat. She marveled at the other girl's nature a little. Ula acted as if she either did not remember or held no offense at how rude and elite Lillea had behaved the other day. And yet, only one other member of the table even acknowledged Lillea's presence: a dark-haired human girl with stunning gray eyes and a pixie cut looked up, made eye contact, then looked back down at her food. The rest continued eating as if she weren't even there.

Ula continued speaking, entirely unperturbed. "Our language is easy because of its structure. Rules apply to all words. No exceptions."

A dwarven boy spoke up. "Our culture went undisturbed for millennia, too, so no outside influences mucked up our words," he grunted.

"Lillea, this is Fallyn," Ula introduced. Lillea nodded shyly. Fallyn went back to eating what appeared to be an entire half of a chicken. Lillea quickly wrote down what Ula had said about the grammar structure before setting her notes to the side and tucking into her meal. She would need to study that more tonight. Somebody must have said something, for a friendly debate about battle-axes vs warhammers sparked up around her. The urgal of the group, of course, preferred the warhammer, and she was quite vocal about it. The two dwarves did not seem to agree. The other two, one the human with the dark hair and the other an apparent halfling, listened in with amusement, only occasionally contributing to goad the others on.

Lillea and Volund listened quietly, laughing as things got more and more intense. The presence of her dragon in her mind surrounded her, and hearing the laughter around her warmed her belly. For the first time in weeks, she felt completely at ease, content exactly where she was at, and she marveled at the difference that just one kind person could make.

Arya tightened the straps of Firnen's saddle, the final touch before they would be ready for the longer flight. She felt the buzz of excitement that he emanated and she placed her hand on his neck lovingly, understanding the feeling. Eragon had sent word this morning that if she and Firnen had a spare afternoon, he and Saphira were ready to show them their grand surprise.

'Any guesses as to what it will be?' she asked him, then laughed at the irritation that he exuded with his 'No.'

Firnen had been trying to get hints out of Saphira all week, but beyond how excited she was to visit and share with him the treasure, his dragon-mate would reveal nothing. This had resulted in Firnen being slightly sulky for the past two days.

Arya did not share these feelings. She could hardly harbor any ill will at Eragon for keeping secrets.

Finally, the sky was made brilliant with the glinting of Saphira's scales, and Arya mounted Firnen to meet them in the sky. Saphira could scarcely continue her excitement, snapping playfully at Firnen's haunch as though she were a much younger dragon. Arya felt Firnen's peevishness abate slightly.

Eragon reached out to brush minds with Arya.

'Well met, my queen,' he said softly, merging greetings. Arya took a deep breath to maintain composure.

Well met.'

They took off toward the mountains. The journey was quiet, but not entirely so, as Eragon occasionally interceded with little bits of information about the land below, apparently still trying to make up for her botched tour from before. The farmland stretched for miles away, having expanded over the plain as more and more riders joined the camps. The people below were surprisingly happy to do what they did, and the volunteers to help feed the riders were virtually endless.

"Although," Eragon reflected aloud, "it wasn't entirely strange. This land was safe from any intruders that were known, a foreign concept to those that had come over from Alagaësia. Even if an army suddenly showed up to siege the area, the would have very little luck." He and Saphira chortled at the thought of a human army marching on a camp of dragons.

It also helped their cause that any who came to help were afforded free, established housing and farmland with the bonus of keeping anything they needed to provide for their household. Farmers for the Rider camps were provided with a great security and safety in exchange for their labor, and he shared as much with Firnen and Arya.

They were getting close now. Saphira's excitement was nearly tangible, and Firnen picked up on that, still continuing to besiege her with questions about their destination. He received no answers.

They passed the first peaks of the mountains, and Eragon and Saphira showed no signs of slowing down or stopping, only flying higher to compensate for the rising peaks. 15 minutes deep into the jagged mountain range, Saphira banked sharply left and dropped, slipping clean between two narrow followed with a muted cuss from Arya at the sudden drop. Saphira continued her ragged flight, however, weaving low in and out of peaks. Eragon rode so tight to her neck he was scarcely visible, noticeable only from the erratic movement of his hair whipping in the wind. Arya sensed Saphira's amusement as Firnen had to exercise intense focus to keep up. The elf grinned. At one point, she was fairly sure they had actually done a full circle. Eventually, Saphira slowed. Firnen was grateful, she knew, but would never admit it. 'And you call us prideful,' Arya chortled. He ignored her. Their flight ended at a short, narrow valley.

Quickly dismounting, Arya danced about in a full circle, scanning for the source of all the excitement. When nothing was forthcoming, she looked at Eragon expectantly. He was watching her, seeming to be enjoying the suspense. He grinned at her, and she scowled back, albeit a little playfully.

Self importantly, the larger of the two dragons swept all of their minds into one communion.

'We will need to ask for entrance,' Saphira explained. They assented. As one, they connected to some mass of consciousness. Arya gasped and instinctively ripped her mind away, panting and out of breath. Something was here, somewhere near, a writhing, darting conscience, older and more powerful than anything she had ever encountered. After a couple seconds, Arya realized the others were looking at her expectantly, and Eragon perhaps had a bit of concern in his expression. Embarrassed, she once again joined her mind to theirs and this time held her resolve but only by sheer force of will.

Saphira spoke for them. Or, rather, impressed a desire for entrance with a vague, rapid series of images and feelings that Arya could scarcely keep up with, let alone understand. Her connection to Firnen helped clarify and slow things down enough that Arya understood the creature, or rather creatures, as she could now see, were examining their individual characters, probing them, and finally, offering their assent. Then, they withdrew. Arya heaved a sigh of relief, and noticed Eragon bent over double catching his breath.

Long seconds passed, stretching into minutes. Nothing happened. Arya looked around again. Suddenly, a loud crack brought her attention back behind her. As if by natural phenomena, the rock wall in front of them shattered and fell. Mouth open, she looked at Eragon. Was this supposed to happen. He grinned at her shock, and she quickly shut her mouth. Yes, clearly this was supposed to happen.

She looked at the place from which the rocks had tumbled. An apparent entrance, the entire face of the cliff had fallen, leaving a gaping, black hole into an allegedly hollow space.

Against her better judgement, they stepped through. Eragon conjured a quiet light, muted and white in color. And both Arya and Firnen had to remember to breathe.

She knew there had been a lot of them, but could never have prepared herself for the walls of glimmering souls before her. The power in this room alone could level the entire mountain range with one thought. They sat in silence, waiting. The Eldunari Vault. What had happened to the dragon souls that had decided to stay in this world, the four in this room alone knew. It was common knowledge that Eragon and Saphira had taken the dragon eggs and established them at the new camp. As for the Eldunari, though, their mass of power and wisdom was too tempting to be common knowledge, and those who had stayed were promised they would never again be manipulated or used for evil.

'Thank you for allowing us,' Firnen said soberly to the surrounding souls. A whirl of affirmation and colors responded. Arya echoed his greeting, and bowed deeply. When the consciences again merged, Eragon struggled to speak, distracted with what he had been trying to say. He managed with Saphira's help, however, to explain what had happened upon the first couple weeks of their arrival.

After creating the islands for the camp, the task at hand had been to establish a home for the dragon souls. Eragon thought that had perhaps been more difficult than finding a location for the camp itself. He was loathe to leave them so far away from him, without vigilance and protection. They had insisted, though, and eventually this remote location in a cold, dark, silent cave was what the Eldunari had insisted upon. At that point, Eragon gave up on ever trying to understand dragons, he told them with a rueful chuckle.

"I visit occasionally," Eragon said audibly, his voice seeming unnaturally loud in the silence of the cave. "I can't come too often, though, or it might be viewed as suspicious. My greatest fear is that somebody would discover them," he confessed.

Arya nodded, too astounded for words.

"Their power was what physically established the camp, and I had to come here frequently in the early days. They were entirely integral at designing and altering the mechanisms of my camp," Eragon explained. "They are still the judges that I come to to solve both moral and more tangible dilemmas."

Arya thought about what Eragon had said. 'Moral issues.' That would perhaps encompass what to do when the daughter you have never met before becomes one of your students and your estranged lover, also the queen of the elves, is a guest performing an appraisal of your camp. She shook her head quietly. She had put him in quite a ridiculous situation, without even a day to prepare himself.

She felt a flush of embarrassment upon realizing that the Eldunari still had access to her thoughts. At least only they and Firnen had heard.

Then, to her extreme joy and surprise, a voice she recognized well answered her.

'A ridiculous situation, indeed,' Glaedr mused. Arya whirled around, looking for his position in the room.

'Why does it matter where my limited physical form resides?' he asked, and she stopped looking around, bashful. Eragon was giving her a strange look, which only served to further her embarrassment.

'Yes, completely silly," Glaedr continued. 'And yet, the most ludicrous part of all is that the both of you are still avoiding the topic like children. Weeks have passed, and neither of you have managed to broach the subject, both preferring to pretend the newest student of his isn't his own child.'

His chastisement settled deep with her, and Arya could not defend herself. He was correct, and she was ashamed that herself and Eragon had spent the last few weeks dancing around the most important subject without discussing it. Now, she was set to leave in less than a week. Would she be departing, leaving her child in her father's indirect care, and never discussing with Eragon what that meant? Worse, never asking him what he wanted that to mean?

These thoughts continued long after she and Firnen said their reluctant goodbyes to the Dragons and began the flight back out of the mountains and to the camp. Early in the flight, Arya made up her mind. The rest of the time, she spent gathering her courage, which typically came so naturally, and practicing the 4 words she needed to say. When Eragon tried to initiate conversation of the mind, as the two typically engaged in, he seemed surprised and perhaps a little hurt when she pulled away from him. By the time they all landed on the main isle for dinner, Arya was as ready as she would ever be. It was long past time that Eragon had a say in all of this.

Dismounting, she turned to face Eragon. The steely look in her eye seemed to take him off guard.

"We need to talk."