A/N: I know you've all been wondering what's happened to that blonde woman who washed up behind the five Riders on the beach that fateful day - and to get a glimpse of the cycle's main character. But don't forget that if you become the 750th voter of Destiny, 40th of Niaomi, 150th fan (which is only one away!), or answer the TQ on "Destined Love" in TCoA, you get the chance to choose from an awesome list of prizes that now includes A SNEAK PEEK OF VOLUME TWO! :D
Picture of Rosaminda up above.
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She knelt down and examined the large flattened square of grass, her cold hazelnut eyes narrowed as they examined the surroundings. The glade showed other signs of residence: paths worn into the terrain, crushed limbs and trampled brush as if huge beasts had passed through. A gleam from one broken branch caught her eye, and she walked forwards to find a long blonde strand. Its color matched her own hair, but the woman hadn't come from this direction.
"They were here," she whispered softly to herself, her fingers pushing up the sleeve of her black dress to stroke the golden serpent that wound around her arm in the form of a bracelet. "Sé orúm thornessa hávr sharjalví lífs."
With those words, a ripple went through the snake, the sheen of its body changing as scales rose and the serpent became alive. Flickering its tongue, it unraveled itself from her arm so that it could meet her gaze with glittering obsidian eyes. Kuniva, the first of the twin snake familiars, at your service, mistress.
"Mummy needs you to find her two nieces and their friends," the woman cooed, her poison red lips twisting upwards in a wicked grin. "Her little boy can handle that, can't you?"
Of course, Kuniva agreed, slithering down to the ground as she lowered her hand. What shall you have me do when I find them?
"Oh, don't worry, Kuniva darling. Mummy will take care of the rest."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
She was back on Alalëa, in the clearing where they'd had their birthday party, and everyone was there: the darksnakes and the satyrs, the unicorns and the nymphs, the mistwolves and the fairies. And they were there, too. He, with his dark beard and sparkling brown eyes; she, with her long silver hair and bright white smile. Tears blinded her vision as she rushed forwards to wrap her arms around them tight, breathing in the smell of crushed pines that was her mother and the spicy scent that was her father's. But suddenly, there was nothing in her grip. Her stockings ripped as she fell onto her knees and wildly searched around.
Everyone else was gone except for the two werecats. Fleetfoot's yellow eyes pinned her in place as she asked, "Where did they go? Where did they go?!"
You are the link for the Riders, Seer, was all they said in reply.
"Tell me where they are!"
The talent you possess is great, and must be used to instill courage in the Leader for the times you all will face.
"I don't want to hear anymore!" she pleaded frantically, pressing her hands to the sides of her head. "Mor, where are you? Far! Faði!"
It did nothing to cover her ears, for their voices whispered directly into her mind. Fleetfoot's tone was grave and critical, and she knew he was disappointed in her even as he said, As you know, the Destroyer grows anxious in his quest for dominance of this world.
She tried to look away, but she couldn't. Her eyes were fixated on the two, the tears in her swirling violet depths only making the silver flecks within them gleam brighter. "Mor!" she screamed. "Far! I need you!"
You must bring together the Riders of the Age to face him, Windtail said, her voice just as demanding as her mate's, her dark blue eyes just as cold. But those eyes released her from their grip as four others stepped out from behind the tree: her brothers and god-sisters.
"I don't want to," the young woman sobbed, trying to reason with her family instead of the werecats. Surely they would understand? "I can't do it."
"You're not our sister," Nathan scoffed.
"Our sister would never be so weak," their younger brother added, green eyes as hard as Emere's scales.
The twins sneered and said together, "Luckily she doesn't share our blood."
"Calling out for Móði and Faði to save their little girl?" Nicholas smirked cruelly. "As if you don't know why they can't help you. They're dead. They're dead, and you're the one who killed them."
"No! You're lying!"
Nate mockingly shook his head sadly. "You just had to be a Rider, didn't you?"
"They're not dead!" his sister cried, burying her face in her hands so that she wouldn't have to see the condemnation in their gazes. "They're not dead!"
Rose laughed and jeered, "Of course they are! You know that, Niaomi."
Nia did know. "That means you understand! You understand why I can't lead you to the Progenitor. I have to keep you safe."
"She'd no doubt be able to keep us safer than you ever could," said Renata, her gray eyes as sharp and deadly as the blades of her push dirks. "You got Móðiras and Faðiras killed; what's not to say we're next?"
"That's only because I followed the visions! But I won't do it."
A new voice spoke up, and suddenly Niaomi was alone once more in the cavern where they'd found their dragon eggs. "So you'll condemn the rest of the world and break the promise you made to your father?"
The young woman knew who it was if she couldn't see the speaker. "I already broke one far more important."
"The journey will be a difficult one to face, but you must take strength," the Progenitor said, and she turned around to face the redhead. The words were the same ones spoken before on the day where they'd had left the island and along with it the only home they'd ever known.
"How?" Nia asked weakly, staring up into the pair of gentle hazel eyes. "What is there to take strength from?"
"Take strength in your gods and yourself," the older Rider intoned, repeating the last line of the werecats' prophecy, "For you shall direly need it."
Niaomi's eyes flew open as she shot up, gasping for air. She clutched the coarse blanket and pressed her face to her knees, relieved that she had finally woken up from the dream. Or should I call it a nightmare? she asked herself wryly as her heart finally settled back into its normal rhythm.
The five Riders and the witch had arrived in Teirm just before the gates had closed for the night. There had been no suspicion at their appearances; the guards on duty had known Angela, and by their amused reaction at her cheerful explanation of finding "these poor peddlers" by the road on her journey back, Nia assumed that this sort of thing happened frequently with the curly-haired mage. Exhausted by traversing the distance on foot, they had all stumbled through the city with bleary eyes, and fell into the beds as soon as Angela pointed them out.
Now, she looked up around the large - wait. An icy chill stole through her as she looked around the room. It wasn't the same room that she'd fallen asleep in, and neither was it the same bed.
Her first terrified thought was that Liress had managed to capture her, but that notion was quickly dispelled as she took in her simple surroundings. The floor was made of pine wood, and the only furnishings upon it were a small dresser and a nightstand. There was none of the semi-organized clutter that had filled the room in which she'd stumbled in at Angela's direction. To the left above the bed sat a row of shelves covered with random knick-knacks: pieces of shells and wood, rocks cracked open, knotted strips of dry grass, and a twisted root.
The blanket around her was suddenly tugged from her loose grip, and Niaomi glanced down, shocked to find a person with unruly brown hair laying beside her. Amazed, she brushed the curls aside to reveal a slightly boyish face that seemed to be on the cusp of manhood with dark eyebrows - a face that belonged to none other than Eragon.
With a strangled gasp, she realized that she was inside a vision. It was so startlingly real that she had a first mistook it for reality, but now the signs were clear. Outside the window, instead of a landscape, mist swirled and obscured her view. Somehow, she knew this was happening in the present. It was not a vision of the past or the future, but rather of the now.
Looking back at Eragon, Nia used this opportunity to further study the features that she already knew so well. So this is the boy who shall become the Leader of the Riders? she thought to herself, somewhat amused. Subconsciously, her fingers stretched to trace the contour of his jawline. He snores.
She giggled to herself at that, but her laughter was quickly cut off as the boy abruptly stirred awake. Neither of them moved, as he listened and she tried to quiet the pounding of her heart. Eragon moved his hand slowly, sliding it beneath the straw mattress to grab whatever lay beneath it - most likely a weapon of some sort. Niaomi held her breath, knowing that for some reason she was corporeal and struggling to pull herself out of the vision.
Angela's warning came back to her, and she cursed herself silently for not heeding the witch's words. Luckily, he fell back into a slumber, never once turning around. Holding back her sigh of relief, she looked down at the bracelet on her left wrist and softly uttered the word, "Garjzla."
The eclipse stone in one of the ten charms flared for a brief moment as it and the entire bracelet disappeared from her view along with her body. Feeling the slow drain of energy as the spell took effect, Nia prayed that the vision wouldn't last longer than she could sustain the spell. She slowly climbed out from beneath the covers, wincing slightly as her bare feet touched the cold floor, and was just in time; a squeak came from the shelf, and Eragon woke back up at the sound.
He rolled out of bed, fortunately not on the side she stood, and unsheathed a small hunting knife. As the boy stumbled around, she realized that he could not truly see as she could with sparse light coming from the foggy window. Taking the opportunity, the Rider darted quietly to the far corner of the room as he managed to light a candle to take in his surroundings.
Eragon checked beneath his bed before sitting back down on its edge. He wearily rubbed his eyes, and Niaomi wished that she could tell him that the squeaking had come from his shelf. But she stayed silent, and the squeak came again, startling the boy further. Glancing around in confusion, he still didn't seem to know where the noise came from though he was now heading in the right direction.
She nearly blew her cover, clapping her hands over her mouth to hold back her cry of shock when she saw him remove a blue dragon's egg from the shelf.