High in her treetop tower, Arya could hear her people wailing, mourning the greatest of the losses they had faced in many years, but she did nothing to address or console them.
How could she, when her heart had yet to accept the truth behind their tears?
Blödhgarm's message had arrived almost two days ago, yet the forest still rang with the elves' cries, unable, for the first time she knew, to control their emotions in face of the ending of ones so dear. Far in the distance, she could hear Firnen shrieks of pain rippling in the wind, wrapping around her like a series of chains that bound her. His grief leaked through the barrier that had barred shut his mind, leaving a blurring film over her eyes as she stared out her window, just listening to the world around her. Her own emotions were still, silent, as if they were waiting for a single word to break the wall she had built around her heart, allowing her to follow her people into the throws of anguish.
But she had promised herself long ago that he would never again be the cause of her tears, and so she refrained.
Word had long ago reached the ears of the elves that a Lethrblaka had somehow managed to reach the island that had been claimed as home for the newest Dragon Riders, finally the last of its kind since the elves had finally managed to hunt down and destroy the last of the eggs almost sixty years ago. The creature had quickly set up a nest on the far side of the island, an inhospitable place that all but a few foolish younglings avoided at all costs. Although he had been unhappy about, Eragon had allowed the creature to stay, placing wards around the edge of the small territory he permitted it to have so as to warn him the moment it entered his lands and became a threat to his students. With every student scared into submission to never enter that world, for many years an uneasy truce had existed between the Riders and the creature, each leaving the other to their own until it was finally time for the Lethrblaka to die and pass into memory as the last of the hunters of man.
Peace ended the moment two stupid hatchlings decided to try their hand at monster hunting.
They were wild dragons, two young males that had taken an interest in the same female and, so as to spare any bloodshed between the two of them, had decided to rid their home of the evil that festered on its far side. Whoever landed the killing blow would be claimed victor, and allowed the try their mettle at being the female's mate. With that resolve in mind, they had set off to kill their prey.
Her fists clenching, Arya bit deep into her lip, the slight but unprepared for pain allowing her to stop the poisonous thoughts that were threatening to consume her, the idea that, maybe, if it was not for them, none of this would have happened.
If Eragon and Saphira had never gone after them, even though the two males would have perished, they would not have.
From the way Blödhgarm had spoken, it had seemed as if the journey was to be quick and simple, Eragon and Saphira swiftly flying out to scold the two younglings and escort them from the territory, leaving the creature none the wiser that its home had been invaded. Once they were gone, Saphira was going to use the two of them as an example to the other wild dragons as to why none were to break the few laws she and Eragon had imposed over all the Riders and Dragons, bound and wild alike. Her strength and size would have been more than enough for the two little ones, both of whom had only just recently gotten their flames.
But they had not taken into account that the Lethrblaka might have taken to hunting for its scarce prey during the day, since nothing that lived in its environment was nocturnal, or the idea that, with food so scarce, it was starving enough to try and take on three dragons in hopes of a meal.
The battle had been brief but brutal, the creature fueled by the desperate hunger that had gnawed at its stomach for years, its four victims unprepared for the threat it posed. Startled by its appearance, the two hatchlings had fled, leaving their leaders to fight for their own. Ready for their hunt to finally be over, Eragon and Saphira had returned the attack, driving the creature further and further into the desert, where they finally slew the creature. Where an unknown spell, placed by the last remaining priests of Helgrind, activated by the Lethrblaka's death, killed them both.
