Andlátkyn; Vandr Sanses unin Alagaësia

The Beors

The company of mixed races all relaxed, chatting jubilantly with one another as Eragon turned his attentions to the elf they'd draped comfortably nearby. Only Nightmare noticed as he leaned over and placed his palm on her brow.

Eragon suddenly grimaced, tears pricking his eyes as he started sweating. Nightmare understood immediately, sitting bolt upright and reaching out with his mind to theirs.
Her mind was completely lucid, and constricting on Eragon's with every intention of killing the human.
Unhand the Rider!! He bellowed.

She responded with a pause, then a dagger aimed at the King of Negativity. Well practiced in the art, he blocked it and launched a counterattack, a sharp tendril burrowing into her mind, an attack different from any she expected.
Then Eragon burst out with "Eka aí fricai un Shur'tugal!"

The elf halted her attacks, and so did the skeleton.
She was wary of him, and saw Nightmare as a major threat. The monster noticed this.
I will not harm you, so long as you do not harm him. I will observe to understand if you are friend or foe. He explained in her home tongue. She studied his mind awhile in suspicion, then hesitantly lowered her defenses, ready to slam shut at a moment's notice.

She and Eragon touched, and the pair got to see just how different their minds were. She was as much a human as a dragon was an animal. They all had a chance to truly see each other's minds. The elf was more like Nightmare than Eragon, a few wild notes dancing through her consciousness. Nightmare, however, was a symphony. A hymn reverberated within him, joined by the millions that he was permanently connected to via his power. He was more a physical incarnation of the Balance than he was any living being. Arcane objects of mystery floated this way and that, masked by an aching sense of regret, loneliness, despair, and a constant guarded aura. His true self was hidden deep in his consciousness, though it emerged briefly to explain wordlessly his purpose, his power, and his real nature.

Eragon felt small upon glimpsing his vast, timid awareness that resisted closeness out of a deep-seated fear, ingrained by a tragic event of the past. Of a time when this entity was kind.

What are your names? The elf asked wearily, concealing her fear of the strange being that was the skeleton.
Eragon.
.....
A dragon of all hues formed of light refers to me as Alalëa. I prefer we do not mention my name yet. I do not wish to alarm you.

Eragon was confused, the elf tensing more out of suspicion, yet she was taking careful notice of the name and mysterious dragon with wistful familiarity.
I am Arya. She spoke shortly after.
Why have I been contacted in this manner? Am I still a captive of the Empire? She quested.
No, you are free! Eragon proclaimed happily.
I was imprisoned in Gil'ead, like you, but I escaped and we rescued you. In the five days since then, we've crossed the edge of the Hadarac Desert and are now camped by the Beor Mountains. You've not stirred nor said a word in all that time.

Ah... so it was Gil'ead. She paused, thoughts flicking anxiously as she peered at Nightmare again.
I know my wounds were healed. At the time I did not understand why- preparation for some new torture, I was certain. Now I realize it was you....
Even so, I have not risen, and you are puzzled.
Yes. Replied Eragon.
You are poisoned, aren't you Älfakyn?
I am. During my captivity, a poison called Skilna Bragh was given to me, along with a drug to suppress my power. Every morning the antidote for the previous day's poison was administered to me, by force if I refused to take it. Without it I will die in a few hours. This is why I lie in this trance- it slows the Skilna Bragh's progress, though does not stop it... I contemplated waking for the purpose of ending my life and denying Galbatorix, but I refrained from doing so out of hope that you were allies... She trailed, tired.