Post by StormAngel on Jun 6, 2007 9:00:39 GMT -5
Erm... ya... I am just trying this new idea about the third book in the Eragon series... Don't kill me, please. I'm working on a flitwick/sprout romance thing now... This is one of my older stuff.
Okay, this is it. My Eragon fanfic collaboration with my dear EragonArya. This part is by me.
A/N: It is to be noted that all characters are not meant to resemble real life people...
Arya = 7 ( Arin )
Eragon = 7 (‘ragon)
Characters Claudette, Wekilt, Velaer, Raechel are my creations. No resemblance to any real life persons are intended. ©2007 StormAngel
Eragon never know his real parents, all he knew is that an elven family adopted him after his mother abandoned him on the edge of Du Weldenvarden. He had sandy brown hair, with sparkling onyx eyes. Pointed ears differentiated him from his fellow humans. No one knew where he got those ears. Some say that his parents must be elves, while some others say that one of his parents is an elf. Either way, Eragon still has pointed ears.
Arya, on the other hand, is the daughter of the elven family that adopted him. She has dark midnight hair, framing her small, oval face. Emerald green eyes contrast greatly with her black hair. Pointed ears poke through the curtain of hair that framed her face.
Arya and Eragon are good friends, neither seeming to leave each other alone for a moment. Surprisingly, Arya does not play with girls her age. Instead, she spends most of her time with Eragon, be it running around the fields or playing with mock swords.
Arya scampered around the field happily, chasing after Eragon, who laughed.
Sandy brown mixed with black hair waved wildly in the wind, as the two chased each other in circles.
“Arya! Eragon! It’s time for dinner!” A melodious voice floated across the field.
Arya turned to Eragon.
“Come on, Eragon! I’ll race you back!” Arya giggled.
Eragon chuckled.
“I’ll win!” He called over his shoulder, as he sped towards where his foster mother, Islanzadi stood.
“No. I’ll win!” Arya yelled back as she ran faster.
“Now, children, you both win.” Islanzadi’s voice called out to them. Both of the arrived that instance, panting hard. Arya looked at Eragon, and they both grinned.
“Good evening, mother” they said in unison.
Islanzadi smiled gently at them.
“Come in.” She said, pulling open the door, entering behind them.
The door snapped shut.
The inside of the house is beautiful, decorated by fairths on the walls and some ornaments. Arya and Eragon shared one room, which had two beds placed at a comfortable distance away from each other. The dining table was placed in front of the fireplace, warm, steaming plates of food already placed there. Arya and Eragon chattered noisily as they took their places at the table. Islanzadi sat down in between the tow children, and they started the meal.
“So what did you two do today?” Islanzadi asked conversationally.
“Nothing much, mother. Arya and I just ran around chasing the butterflies.” Eragon replied with his mouth full.
“Eragon, don’t talk with your mouth full.” His mother chided gently.
“Yes, mother.” Eragon sighed, the tips of his pointed ears going red.
Arya grinned at Eragon’s discomfort.
Soon, dinner concluded, a 3-course meal with vegetable soup, pumpkin pie and some fruits and berries.
Arya shifted impatiently in her chair as she waits for her mother to clear the empty plates.
“Be patient!” Eragon hissed out of the corner of his mouth.
Arya nodded, and shifted again.
After what seemed like hours of waiting, their mother came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. Her mate, Arya’s father, Evandar, died a few years ago in a war. Neither in this house speaks of the war as it brings back bad memories to Islanzadi and the two children, both whom had seen their father died at a young age.
“Mother!” both of them squealed in a high voice.
Islanzadi smiled gently at them.
“Are you tired, little ones?” She asked softly.
“Yes. I’m really tired, Mother. Can you tell us a bed time story before we sleep?” Arya asked, poking Eragon awake.
“Huh? What?” Eragon mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
“I’m asking Mother to tell us a bedtime story. Support me, will you?” Arya hissed.
Eragon immediately jerked awake.
“Yes, mother. Tell us a bed time story, maybe that one with the dragons.” Eragon asked excitedly.
Facing her two eager children, Islanzadi laughed.
“Well alright. Now to bed!”
Laughing, the two little kids ran to their room, dragging their mother behind them.
Hopping onto her bed, Arya lifted the covers and slid under them; beside her, Eragon did the same.
Islanzadi came in after them, shutting the door gently behind her.
“So what story are you going to tell us today, mum?” Eragon asked, excitement dancing in his eyes.
Islanzadi tilted her head, thinking, before replying.
“How about the one when I met your father?” She replied.
The two children nodded enthusiastically, settling down into the covers.
“Well, it is like this…
Your father and I met in Ellesmera, where his father is King. We met during the celebration of the tides. I wasn’t very taken with him at first, I’m afraid.” At that, Arya and Eragon laughed.
“He asked me to dance with him, and I turned him down, hard. Evandar was crushed, but he never did stop chasing after me. I allowed him to court me after my mother advised me to do so. After all, who can stop true love?” Islanzadi’s eyes turned misty, as she loses herself in her memories.
“He proposed to me 2 years later, and I accepted. From then on, I became his mate, and nothing in the world could ever change that,” Islanzadi concluded.
She glanced tenderly at Arya and Eragon, who are already slumbering gently. Kissing their foreheads lovingly, Islanzadi left the room, smiling sadly to herself. She still missed Evandar, though she tried to make herself believe that that wasn’t so. He was a loving father, and an ardent lover, though she neglected to mention that to Arya and Eragon. Morzan, the first of the Forsworn, had killed him when he was busy fighting another Urgal.
Islanzadi smiled sadly again, opening her room door, when she reached it. Arya and Eragon are such nice children, and she could not have asked for more. However, sometimes, she wished that she were able to offer Arya and Eragon a more complete family, one with their father. Looking at Arya and Eragon play in the fields just now made her wonder if they could remain so innocent, so carefree, forever. She knew the war was about to break out once more. Forcing her lips into a sad smile, she slipped under the covers of the bed. Tomorrow would be a new day.
Eragon awakened the next day, staring into the bright sunlight. Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he frowned at the open windows. Who opened them? He thought, irritated.
He turned to his left. Arya’s bed was already empty, and sounds of water were coming from the bathroom. Eragon grinned slightly as he clambered out of bed happily. He could smell the sweet smell of cooking corn wafting from the kitchen. Grinning hugely, he hurriedly packed his bed, and sprinted out of the room, not bothering to see if Arya was done bathing.
Skidding to a stop at the kitchen, he peered in cautiously. His mother was stirring something that smelled like carrots in the pot. He was so engrossed in trying to see what Islanzadi was cooking that he did not notice Arya sneaking up behind him.
“Gotcha!” A cool voice washed over him, shocking Eragon.
Eragon got a shock of his life when a hand suddenly clamp down on his shoulder out of nowhere.
Spinning around, he met Arya’s grinning face.
“Arya!” He yelled.
“Eragon!” their mother poked her head out of the kitchen.
“Mother! Arya scared me.” Eragon whined piteously.
“I didn’t!” Arya rebuked, pouting. “I just tapped you.” Arya smiled innocently.
“You scared me!” Eragon protested.
“Now. STOP!” Islanzadi yelled. The two quarrelling children gradually became quieter and looked at their mother in shock. She had never yelled at them before, not when Arya had accidentally smashed her favorite porcelain vase, not when Eragon had spilled hot milk on her toes and burnt them.
Arya’s eyes started filling with tears and her lips trembled. Eragon looked down at his feet, visibly upset.
“I’m so sorry, Arya, Eragon. It’s just that…” Islanzadi gestured helplessly.
Without a word, Arya and Eragon flung themselves at Islanzadi, tears spilling from their eyes. Islanzadi bent down and carefully wrapped her arms around them, hugging them gently.
“Mother, you still love us, right?” Arya asked seriously, biting her lip.
“Of course,” Islanzadi reassured her, smoothing Arya’s hair.
“Then why did you yell at us just now, Mother?” Eragon asked, his eyes full of questions.
Islanzadi winced internally at Eragon’s accusatory tone.
“I was just very tired, Eragon. There are some things that cannot be changed, and I’m upset over them. Do you understand?” Islanzadi glanced fondly at Eragon, ruffling his hair as he nodded his head.
Eragon grinned, eyes sparkling with mirth.
“Mother… Don’t do that.” He squealed, ducking under Islanzadi’s hand. Their mother smiled sadly, hugging both he and Arya tightly.
“Are you alright, Mother?” Arya asked seriously, her tiny face full of worry.
Islanzadi smiled at Arya’s question. Her face, full of worry for her, made Islanzadi reminisce about the times when she was younger. She was so full of energy and life. Until her parents died.
“I am now, Arya. Now, I believe some breakfast is in order.” Islanzadi smiled again as Arya and Eragon ‘screamed’ in joy.
Disengaging themselves from Islanzadi’s arms, Arya and Eragon raced each other to the dining area.
“I’m first!” Arya shrieked wildly as she sprinted through the halls.
“I’m first!” Eragon riposted, running harder.
Their mother looked at the two dwindling forms in a mixture of exasperation and happiness. She just could not understand why the two of them just can’t leave each other alone for once, yet she was happy for them, happy that they would have each other to help them through the upcoming war. Islanzadi sensed that something terrible would happen soon, something big and drastic that would change the tides for everyone.
Shaking herself from her reverie, Islanzadi strode over to the stove, where the broth was now producing large amounts of effervescence. Waving her hands, she cut off the source of the flames using the ancient language. Carefully scooping the soup into three bowls, she carried them out to the table, not before placing the scoop into the basin.
Arya and Eragon shifted uncomfortably as they waited for their mother to come out from the kitchen. Arya sat with her head down, her jet black hair obscuring her face.
“Arya?” Eragon began hesitantly, looking at her worriedly.
Arya lifted her head slightly, her green eyes filled with tears that were threatening to spill over.
“Do you hate me, Eragon?” She whispered, eyes never leaving his, her young face full of worry and sadness.
Eragon looked at her in shock and incomprehension.
“Why would I hate you, Arin?” He asked, using his nickname for her.
Arya sniffled a little before looking at Eragon.
“Are you angry for scaring you this morning?” She asked softly.
“No. Of course not!” Eragon replied, his eyes puzzled.
Islanzadi entered the room then, with three bowls of soup. Placing them on the ornately carved table, she glanced curiously at Arya, who had tear tracks running down her cheeks.
“Arya?” Islanzadi began, “are you crying?” she asked, going over to her. Arya sat up a little straighter and wiped her eyes.
“It was just a little upset, mother.” She replied, taking the bowl nearer to her.
Beside her, Eragon did the same. Islanzadi sat down at the last remaining seat, taking her bowl of soup. The trio sat in silence, neither talking, the small chinks from the sthingy hitting the china the only sound. Eragon glanced at Arya, who had her head down.
“What’s the problem, Arin?” he asked again, gently; tilting her chin up.
His young boyish face filled with concern and worry.
“Do you still love me, Mother?” Arya turned to Islanzadi, her small face full of hurt.
Islanzadi was taken aback for a moment, before answering, “of course I do Arya. I never did not love you.”
Arya sniffled a little again, before wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her tunic.
“I’m sorry, mother.” Arya murmured, finishing her soup.
Islanzadi nodded, and continued drinking her soup. Eragon quickly finished his, and ran after Arya, who had run off after finishing her breakfast.
Islanzadi watched the two and wondered, “what’s with the two of them…”
Shaking her head, she finished the rest of her soup, collected the three bowls and strode off to the kitchens to wash them.
Eragon ran after Arya, who was running very very fast for an elf.
“Arya, wait!” he panted, as he sprinted after her.
Arya turned back, her raven tresses splaying about her face.
“Why, Eragon?” She cried, before running into their room, closing the door with a loud bang.
Eragon sat outside the door in defeat. He doesn’t know what is happening to Arya these days. She seems to have unpredictable mood swings and seriously, this is frightening Eragon. He never thought that his sister would be so weird. Although he knew that he and Arya were not related, his seven year old mind did not care for the fact, and they still treated each other as siblings.
In the room, Arya flung herself on her bed, crying slightly. She didn’t know what brought this on, but somehow, she felt that everything that happened this morning was all her fault. She took out a bottle, which is filled with brown pills. Taking one out, she popped it into her mouth.
Eragon took a deep breath, before knocking cautiously on HIS room door.
Arya heard a slight knock on the door. Sighing, she shouted, “come on in.”
“How could I, when you locked the door?” Eragon snapped back plaintively.
Arya rolled her eyes, and replied. “I thought you had the key.”
“I don’t, Arya. Now let me in!” he yelled, frustrated. He wanted a bath, thank you very much.
Arya rolled her eyes again and opened the door, careful not to hit her head with the door.
Eragon sighed in relief as the door opened. Finally, he can bathe. He stepped into the room cautiously, fearing for his safety when he saw Arya’s angry expression.
“Erm… Hi?” Eragon said, moving to the closet.
“Hello to you too. Go and bathe. You stink.” Arya replied.
“So you aren’t blaming yourself anymore, right?” Eragon asked.
Arya nodded, and Eragon let out a breathe of air in relief. Taking a light blue tunic and a matching pair of pants from the closet, he strode over to the bathroom and closed the door with a loud bang.
Arya sighed as Eragon entered the bathroom. She didn’t know what was happening to her. She would have to ask her mother then. Sighing again, Arya got up from her bed and exited the room, on her way to the garden, where her mother would be, tending to the flowers.
“Why does this always happen to me?” She mused.
Islanzadi was strolling through the garden when Arya came storming through.
“What’s wrong, Arya?” She asked, worried.
Arya shrugged, before replying.
“I don’t know, mother. I keep feeling that what happened this morning was all my fault.”
Islanzadi frowned.
“Arya, nothing that happened this morning was your fault. I was just very upset yesterday. You must stop blaming yourself.” She replied, kneeling down to be at Arya’s height.
Arya nodded, and opened her mouth to reply.
“Yes mother. I…” before she could finish her statement, Arya fainted on the ground.
___________________________________________________
Okay, this is it. My Eragon fanfic collaboration with my dear EragonArya. This part is by me.
A/N: It is to be noted that all characters are not meant to resemble real life people...
Arya = 7 ( Arin )
Eragon = 7 (‘ragon)
Characters Claudette, Wekilt, Velaer, Raechel are my creations. No resemblance to any real life persons are intended. ©2007 StormAngel
Eragon never know his real parents, all he knew is that an elven family adopted him after his mother abandoned him on the edge of Du Weldenvarden. He had sandy brown hair, with sparkling onyx eyes. Pointed ears differentiated him from his fellow humans. No one knew where he got those ears. Some say that his parents must be elves, while some others say that one of his parents is an elf. Either way, Eragon still has pointed ears.
Arya, on the other hand, is the daughter of the elven family that adopted him. She has dark midnight hair, framing her small, oval face. Emerald green eyes contrast greatly with her black hair. Pointed ears poke through the curtain of hair that framed her face.
Arya and Eragon are good friends, neither seeming to leave each other alone for a moment. Surprisingly, Arya does not play with girls her age. Instead, she spends most of her time with Eragon, be it running around the fields or playing with mock swords.
Arya scampered around the field happily, chasing after Eragon, who laughed.
Sandy brown mixed with black hair waved wildly in the wind, as the two chased each other in circles.
“Arya! Eragon! It’s time for dinner!” A melodious voice floated across the field.
Arya turned to Eragon.
“Come on, Eragon! I’ll race you back!” Arya giggled.
Eragon chuckled.
“I’ll win!” He called over his shoulder, as he sped towards where his foster mother, Islanzadi stood.
“No. I’ll win!” Arya yelled back as she ran faster.
“Now, children, you both win.” Islanzadi’s voice called out to them. Both of the arrived that instance, panting hard. Arya looked at Eragon, and they both grinned.
“Good evening, mother” they said in unison.
Islanzadi smiled gently at them.
“Come in.” She said, pulling open the door, entering behind them.
The door snapped shut.
The inside of the house is beautiful, decorated by fairths on the walls and some ornaments. Arya and Eragon shared one room, which had two beds placed at a comfortable distance away from each other. The dining table was placed in front of the fireplace, warm, steaming plates of food already placed there. Arya and Eragon chattered noisily as they took their places at the table. Islanzadi sat down in between the tow children, and they started the meal.
“So what did you two do today?” Islanzadi asked conversationally.
“Nothing much, mother. Arya and I just ran around chasing the butterflies.” Eragon replied with his mouth full.
“Eragon, don’t talk with your mouth full.” His mother chided gently.
“Yes, mother.” Eragon sighed, the tips of his pointed ears going red.
Arya grinned at Eragon’s discomfort.
Soon, dinner concluded, a 3-course meal with vegetable soup, pumpkin pie and some fruits and berries.
Arya shifted impatiently in her chair as she waits for her mother to clear the empty plates.
“Be patient!” Eragon hissed out of the corner of his mouth.
Arya nodded, and shifted again.
After what seemed like hours of waiting, their mother came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. Her mate, Arya’s father, Evandar, died a few years ago in a war. Neither in this house speaks of the war as it brings back bad memories to Islanzadi and the two children, both whom had seen their father died at a young age.
“Mother!” both of them squealed in a high voice.
Islanzadi smiled gently at them.
“Are you tired, little ones?” She asked softly.
“Yes. I’m really tired, Mother. Can you tell us a bed time story before we sleep?” Arya asked, poking Eragon awake.
“Huh? What?” Eragon mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
“I’m asking Mother to tell us a bedtime story. Support me, will you?” Arya hissed.
Eragon immediately jerked awake.
“Yes, mother. Tell us a bed time story, maybe that one with the dragons.” Eragon asked excitedly.
Facing her two eager children, Islanzadi laughed.
“Well alright. Now to bed!”
Laughing, the two little kids ran to their room, dragging their mother behind them.
Hopping onto her bed, Arya lifted the covers and slid under them; beside her, Eragon did the same.
Islanzadi came in after them, shutting the door gently behind her.
“So what story are you going to tell us today, mum?” Eragon asked, excitement dancing in his eyes.
Islanzadi tilted her head, thinking, before replying.
“How about the one when I met your father?” She replied.
The two children nodded enthusiastically, settling down into the covers.
“Well, it is like this…
Your father and I met in Ellesmera, where his father is King. We met during the celebration of the tides. I wasn’t very taken with him at first, I’m afraid.” At that, Arya and Eragon laughed.
“He asked me to dance with him, and I turned him down, hard. Evandar was crushed, but he never did stop chasing after me. I allowed him to court me after my mother advised me to do so. After all, who can stop true love?” Islanzadi’s eyes turned misty, as she loses herself in her memories.
“He proposed to me 2 years later, and I accepted. From then on, I became his mate, and nothing in the world could ever change that,” Islanzadi concluded.
She glanced tenderly at Arya and Eragon, who are already slumbering gently. Kissing their foreheads lovingly, Islanzadi left the room, smiling sadly to herself. She still missed Evandar, though she tried to make herself believe that that wasn’t so. He was a loving father, and an ardent lover, though she neglected to mention that to Arya and Eragon. Morzan, the first of the Forsworn, had killed him when he was busy fighting another Urgal.
Islanzadi smiled sadly again, opening her room door, when she reached it. Arya and Eragon are such nice children, and she could not have asked for more. However, sometimes, she wished that she were able to offer Arya and Eragon a more complete family, one with their father. Looking at Arya and Eragon play in the fields just now made her wonder if they could remain so innocent, so carefree, forever. She knew the war was about to break out once more. Forcing her lips into a sad smile, she slipped under the covers of the bed. Tomorrow would be a new day.
Eragon awakened the next day, staring into the bright sunlight. Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he frowned at the open windows. Who opened them? He thought, irritated.
He turned to his left. Arya’s bed was already empty, and sounds of water were coming from the bathroom. Eragon grinned slightly as he clambered out of bed happily. He could smell the sweet smell of cooking corn wafting from the kitchen. Grinning hugely, he hurriedly packed his bed, and sprinted out of the room, not bothering to see if Arya was done bathing.
Skidding to a stop at the kitchen, he peered in cautiously. His mother was stirring something that smelled like carrots in the pot. He was so engrossed in trying to see what Islanzadi was cooking that he did not notice Arya sneaking up behind him.
“Gotcha!” A cool voice washed over him, shocking Eragon.
Eragon got a shock of his life when a hand suddenly clamp down on his shoulder out of nowhere.
Spinning around, he met Arya’s grinning face.
“Arya!” He yelled.
“Eragon!” their mother poked her head out of the kitchen.
“Mother! Arya scared me.” Eragon whined piteously.
“I didn’t!” Arya rebuked, pouting. “I just tapped you.” Arya smiled innocently.
“You scared me!” Eragon protested.
“Now. STOP!” Islanzadi yelled. The two quarrelling children gradually became quieter and looked at their mother in shock. She had never yelled at them before, not when Arya had accidentally smashed her favorite porcelain vase, not when Eragon had spilled hot milk on her toes and burnt them.
Arya’s eyes started filling with tears and her lips trembled. Eragon looked down at his feet, visibly upset.
“I’m so sorry, Arya, Eragon. It’s just that…” Islanzadi gestured helplessly.
Without a word, Arya and Eragon flung themselves at Islanzadi, tears spilling from their eyes. Islanzadi bent down and carefully wrapped her arms around them, hugging them gently.
“Mother, you still love us, right?” Arya asked seriously, biting her lip.
“Of course,” Islanzadi reassured her, smoothing Arya’s hair.
“Then why did you yell at us just now, Mother?” Eragon asked, his eyes full of questions.
Islanzadi winced internally at Eragon’s accusatory tone.
“I was just very tired, Eragon. There are some things that cannot be changed, and I’m upset over them. Do you understand?” Islanzadi glanced fondly at Eragon, ruffling his hair as he nodded his head.
Eragon grinned, eyes sparkling with mirth.
“Mother… Don’t do that.” He squealed, ducking under Islanzadi’s hand. Their mother smiled sadly, hugging both he and Arya tightly.
“Are you alright, Mother?” Arya asked seriously, her tiny face full of worry.
Islanzadi smiled at Arya’s question. Her face, full of worry for her, made Islanzadi reminisce about the times when she was younger. She was so full of energy and life. Until her parents died.
“I am now, Arya. Now, I believe some breakfast is in order.” Islanzadi smiled again as Arya and Eragon ‘screamed’ in joy.
Disengaging themselves from Islanzadi’s arms, Arya and Eragon raced each other to the dining area.
“I’m first!” Arya shrieked wildly as she sprinted through the halls.
“I’m first!” Eragon riposted, running harder.
Their mother looked at the two dwindling forms in a mixture of exasperation and happiness. She just could not understand why the two of them just can’t leave each other alone for once, yet she was happy for them, happy that they would have each other to help them through the upcoming war. Islanzadi sensed that something terrible would happen soon, something big and drastic that would change the tides for everyone.
Shaking herself from her reverie, Islanzadi strode over to the stove, where the broth was now producing large amounts of effervescence. Waving her hands, she cut off the source of the flames using the ancient language. Carefully scooping the soup into three bowls, she carried them out to the table, not before placing the scoop into the basin.
Arya and Eragon shifted uncomfortably as they waited for their mother to come out from the kitchen. Arya sat with her head down, her jet black hair obscuring her face.
“Arya?” Eragon began hesitantly, looking at her worriedly.
Arya lifted her head slightly, her green eyes filled with tears that were threatening to spill over.
“Do you hate me, Eragon?” She whispered, eyes never leaving his, her young face full of worry and sadness.
Eragon looked at her in shock and incomprehension.
“Why would I hate you, Arin?” He asked, using his nickname for her.
Arya sniffled a little before looking at Eragon.
“Are you angry for scaring you this morning?” She asked softly.
“No. Of course not!” Eragon replied, his eyes puzzled.
Islanzadi entered the room then, with three bowls of soup. Placing them on the ornately carved table, she glanced curiously at Arya, who had tear tracks running down her cheeks.
“Arya?” Islanzadi began, “are you crying?” she asked, going over to her. Arya sat up a little straighter and wiped her eyes.
“It was just a little upset, mother.” She replied, taking the bowl nearer to her.
Beside her, Eragon did the same. Islanzadi sat down at the last remaining seat, taking her bowl of soup. The trio sat in silence, neither talking, the small chinks from the sthingy hitting the china the only sound. Eragon glanced at Arya, who had her head down.
“What’s the problem, Arin?” he asked again, gently; tilting her chin up.
His young boyish face filled with concern and worry.
“Do you still love me, Mother?” Arya turned to Islanzadi, her small face full of hurt.
Islanzadi was taken aback for a moment, before answering, “of course I do Arya. I never did not love you.”
Arya sniffled a little again, before wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her tunic.
“I’m sorry, mother.” Arya murmured, finishing her soup.
Islanzadi nodded, and continued drinking her soup. Eragon quickly finished his, and ran after Arya, who had run off after finishing her breakfast.
Islanzadi watched the two and wondered, “what’s with the two of them…”
Shaking her head, she finished the rest of her soup, collected the three bowls and strode off to the kitchens to wash them.
Eragon ran after Arya, who was running very very fast for an elf.
“Arya, wait!” he panted, as he sprinted after her.
Arya turned back, her raven tresses splaying about her face.
“Why, Eragon?” She cried, before running into their room, closing the door with a loud bang.
Eragon sat outside the door in defeat. He doesn’t know what is happening to Arya these days. She seems to have unpredictable mood swings and seriously, this is frightening Eragon. He never thought that his sister would be so weird. Although he knew that he and Arya were not related, his seven year old mind did not care for the fact, and they still treated each other as siblings.
In the room, Arya flung herself on her bed, crying slightly. She didn’t know what brought this on, but somehow, she felt that everything that happened this morning was all her fault. She took out a bottle, which is filled with brown pills. Taking one out, she popped it into her mouth.
Eragon took a deep breath, before knocking cautiously on HIS room door.
Arya heard a slight knock on the door. Sighing, she shouted, “come on in.”
“How could I, when you locked the door?” Eragon snapped back plaintively.
Arya rolled her eyes, and replied. “I thought you had the key.”
“I don’t, Arya. Now let me in!” he yelled, frustrated. He wanted a bath, thank you very much.
Arya rolled her eyes again and opened the door, careful not to hit her head with the door.
Eragon sighed in relief as the door opened. Finally, he can bathe. He stepped into the room cautiously, fearing for his safety when he saw Arya’s angry expression.
“Erm… Hi?” Eragon said, moving to the closet.
“Hello to you too. Go and bathe. You stink.” Arya replied.
“So you aren’t blaming yourself anymore, right?” Eragon asked.
Arya nodded, and Eragon let out a breathe of air in relief. Taking a light blue tunic and a matching pair of pants from the closet, he strode over to the bathroom and closed the door with a loud bang.
Arya sighed as Eragon entered the bathroom. She didn’t know what was happening to her. She would have to ask her mother then. Sighing again, Arya got up from her bed and exited the room, on her way to the garden, where her mother would be, tending to the flowers.
“Why does this always happen to me?” She mused.
Islanzadi was strolling through the garden when Arya came storming through.
“What’s wrong, Arya?” She asked, worried.
Arya shrugged, before replying.
“I don’t know, mother. I keep feeling that what happened this morning was all my fault.”
Islanzadi frowned.
“Arya, nothing that happened this morning was your fault. I was just very upset yesterday. You must stop blaming yourself.” She replied, kneeling down to be at Arya’s height.
Arya nodded, and opened her mouth to reply.
“Yes mother. I…” before she could finish her statement, Arya fainted on the ground.
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