Dawnbreaker [Inheritance Cycle]

12. Questions

Brom took a puff of his pipe. "That's another question that will keep us here for a long time, so I will keep it short."

"Starting with the elves, they fiercely fought alongside the Riders against Galbatorix, but when the Riders eventually fell, they retreated to their forests far up north and to the west, lest they were destroyed also."

"The dwarves too fought with the Riders at first, but when it became clear to them the outcome of the war, they sealed themselves away in their tunnels and great cities within the mountains in the south."

He sighed, his expression somber. "As far as I know, not one of either race has been seen since."

"And the dragons?" Serafyna asked. "Were all of them killed?"

Brom answered sorrowfully, "That is the greatest mystery in Alagaësia nowadays: How many dragons survived Galbatorix's murderous slaughter? He spared those who agreed to serve him, but only the twisted dragons of the Forsworn would assist his madness. If any dragons aside from Galbatorix's great dragon, Shruikan, are still alive, they have hidden themselves so they will never be found by the Empire."

That begs the question, where did my dragon come from? Serafyna wondered.

"Were the Urgals here when the elves came to Alagaësia?" she asked.

"No, they followed the elves across the sea, like ticks seeking blood. They were one of the reasons the Riders became valued for their battle prowess and ability to keep the peace," said Brom.

Serafyna nodded. She then decided to turn her questions towards the intricacies of dragons. "How big could the dragons get?"

Brom took another puff from his pipe before setting it down and took his cup of tea in hand, taking a sip. "Very big. The thing about dragons is, they never stop growing. So some of the oldest were truly massive, rivaling entire villages and hills in sheer size."

Dismay swept through Serafyna. Hiding the dragon will be a challenge in later months and years, if I even get that far. She kept her voice steady. "How fast did they mature?"

Brom scratched his chin in thought. "They grew extremely fast for the first couple of weeks, becoming several times their size in that short timeframe. If my memory serves right, they were typically able to breathe fire at five to six years old, which is also around the time they could mate."

For a moment, there was silence as Serafyna pondered on the information. As Brom sipped his tea, she did too, no longer scalding hot.

Despite all the knowledge, the memory of the dragon speaking her name constantly played in her head, making her impatient in her need to know. Before she could articulate a proper question, she instead blurted out, "I heard that a Rider could hear their dragon's thoughts."

She cringed internally as Brom's eyes narrowed suspiciously, frowning. His tangled eyebrows met in a thick white line; the wrinkles deepened on his forehead. Unnoticed, the pipe smoldered out. "Where did you hear that?"

Serafyna shrugged. "From a trader," she lied.

"What was the trader's name?" Brom pressed.

"I don't know, I just overheard him talking in Morn's tavern."

Still frowning, he set aside his teacup and reached for his pipe and tinderbox. With practiced movement, he relit the pipe and took a long pull from it, exhaling slowly. "Well, he was wrong," he said in a flat voice. "That isn't in any of the stories, and I know them all. Did this trader say anything else?"

"Not that I know of, no," Serafyna responded casually, though secretly she was tense, certain that Brom would see through her lie, despite how irrational that possibility seemed.

Thankfully, Brom didn't question her further. Silence reigned before the flickering fireplace once more. She stared into the flames absentmindedly, thinking of how to proceed with her questioning. Brom too seemed like he was in deep thought, his intense gaze not lingering on anything in particular as he tapped his pipe thoughtfully.

Eventually, it was Brom who spoke up, taking a deep breath. "Forgive me, my mind had wandered elsewhere. I believe I never answered the second of your original questions: what made the Riders so unique?"

Serafyna nodded, so the old man continued, "What indeed, hm? For one thing, dragons–similar to elves–don't die of old age. They'll live forever unless killed."

"What is interesting, is that a dragon's Rider also inherits this trait, making them immune to the passage of time." Noting the look on Serafyna's face, he added, "Don't forget, dragons are creatures of magic; everything around them was affected in strange ways, and the closest to them were their own Riders. This is how the Riders lived for hundreds of years in the tales I have often talked about."

Oddly, that knowledge troubled Serafyna. She did not want to outlive her family. "How could the Riders live with that, watching everyone they care about die and wither away?"

Brom chuckled lightly. "It was one of the many sacrifices the Riders made, for the greater good. Another thing that happened to the Riders was that, due to their closeness with dragons, they were as a result stronger of body, keener of mind, and truer of sight than normal men. Along with this, a human Rider would slowly acquire pointed ears, though they were never as prominent as an elf's."

Serafyna had to fight back the urge to touch the tip of her ears. In just how many ways would this dragon change my body, my life, my very being?

She forced herself to nod, then asked him, "You know a lot about dragons. Have you ever seen one?"

"Nay," said Brom, "they were far before my time."

His response disappointed her, but that was expected.

Now, she had everything she needed. All that was left was to come up with a name for her dragon. She didn't know many dragon names to begin with.

"I've been wanting to know more about the Rider's dragons, more specifically, the names given to them."

Brom peered at her over his pipe. "Why?"

"Why not?" She shrugged. "No reason, just curious. Even more so, now, seeing I am named after a dragon."

"Fair enough, I suppose." Brom then began to list a series of names, one by one. "There was Jura, Hírador, and Fundor—who fought the giant sea snake. Galzra, Briam, Ohen the Strong, Gretiem, Beroan, Roslarb..." He added many others. At the very end, he uttered so softly that Serafyna almost did not hear, "... and Saphira."

Serafyna made an effort to memorize them all. Even if she didn't use any of them, she'd have an idea of how she could name her dragon.

Now, she had everything she needed. Brom had given her plenty to think about.

Deciding that it was time she excused herself, Serafyna got up from the chair and dusted off her clothes. "I think I should get going, Roran is probably done with his work and waiting for me."

Brom raised an eyebrow, rather surprised. "Already? I expected to keep answering your questions until Roran came marching inside and dragging you off."

"For now," Serafyna grinned, "I'll return though, with another set of questions, so don't worry!"

"Very well then." Brom got up, setting aside his pipe and leading her to the door, seeing her off. "Goodbye, and take care of yourself, Serafyna."

"I will." She nodded, "Thank you for your time."

Serafyna stepped outside and the door closed behind her. She looked around in the muted winter sunlight and took a deep breath. Turning away, she began walking, pondering on what Brom had shared.