New Students (Private Quetzal and serilkane)

[Brenton]

The sunlight began to strengthen in brightness as the birds whistled softly and small elk bounded over the land below the giant red dragon that flew at a quick pace. On the dragon's back sat two humans and a hatchling that all seemed tired. Suddenly the sprawling elven capital rose in front of them which created a magnificent sight. Talon descended as Konner blinked wearily and then started when he saw Brenton walk toward them with a small smile. Welcome Konner and Talon. I trust your journey has been filled with action. In answer the rider dropped so Brenton could see the other Guy and smaller dragon.

[Quetzal]

((I'm guessing this takes place just after Rider Branches but before The Chase, since Conner's not there for the Branches but is for The Chase))

Isrydia stood beside Brenton, watching the red dragon land. Her own dragon, Arlyn, stood next to her. He was still growing fast and was already creeping up past her elbow in height, while just a couple of days ago he had not yet reached her elbow. The two had been excited when Brenton told them he was to get a new apprentice. They had looked forward to training alongside the new Rider and his dragon, and had spent hours speculating as to what they would be like. Isrydia had been worried he might be arrogant and may have let being a Rider get to his head, but Arlyn had reminded her that a dragon was not likely to choose someone who would react to Ridership in a negative way. In short, they had wondered who might be joining them, but in actuality had no idea what they would be like.

Isrydia was glad she had chosen to wear her ordinary clothes instead of anything that resembled armour. Her plain shirt and trousers were far more comfortable and much cooler to wear in the growing heat of the day. Watching the figures on the red dragon eagerly, she stepped forward with Brenton. Arlyn's pale blue scales glittered as he stretched his neck forward, waiting to see the newcomer.

[serilkane]

A sharp spike of dread plunged into Seril's gut as Talon started his steep descent. He hadn't been anticipating the decline in altitude and nearly rose out of his seat. Nearly, that is. In the years to come, Seril would absolutely insist that he had almost literally tumbled out of the saddle and only through sheer willpower had he clutched onto one of the ivory spikes along Talon's back.

The sheer size of everything around Seril shocked him. He had known that dragons could be large, but it was something else entirely for him to ride astride a behemoth such as Talon. Not to mention Du Weldenvarden. The forest seemed to stretch for many leagues past the horizon, all the way to the sun. Perhaps that was all that lied to the north. The forest, and at its edge lay the end of the world. Towards the end of their trip Seril, after becoming a smidgen more comfortable with the idea of flying, had paid several compliments to both Konner and Talon. It was extremely kind of them to deliver Seril to the elves for training. He had nothing to pay them back with, a fact he'd mentioned several times. It humbled the young man immensely when they adamantly refused repayment, simply wishing him to continue a proper education with Brenton and another apprentice.

That was a point of anxiety for young Seril, though Ophelia remained blissfully ignorant of the implications of another student. Seril was entirely new to every experience of being a Rider, though this other student would be far ahead of him. Could there be so many Riders? How had he missed this? Seril shook his head, clearing out the encroaching darkness. It wouldn't do well for him to dwell on such thoughts, especially when Ophelia absolutely insisted on being connected through their minds at any time she was awake.

As Talon finally landed, Ophelia blasted off of the saddle and onto the ground. The little pewter ball of muscle bounded haphazardly about those who had gathered. Seril cried out in alarm as she dropped the several feet to the ground, but she seemed entirely unphased, her wings stretching out to balance her descent. Seril unbuckled himself from the saddle and made to climb down Talon's massive backlegs, however his legs were so stiff from riding they couldn't hold up his weight and he toppled after Ophelia, backside over tea kettle. A delicate shade of crimson stained his cheeks as Seril sat up and lifted a hand in greeting, his dark gaze avoiding what he could only assume would be laughs of jeers. "H-hello," he said, voice hoarse from yelling atop Talon's back. Real great way to introduce myself, Seril thought, mostly to himself. Ophelia shot a quick glance back at Seril before leaping across the distance and landing heavily in his lap. She nuzzled under his chin, forcing his gaze up at the others gathered. Ophelia curled up in a tight ball and promptly fell back asleep.

[Brenton]

((Sorry for the short posts but I'm using my 3DS/cell phone))

Konner stumbled slightly as he fell from the saddle and realized his fight with Bristven had worn him out more than he thought. Just as he thought he was fine, though, the world went black and everything tilted forward as Konner fell to the ground, too tired to even stop himself from face planting. Talon quickly snaked his tail out and wrapped it around his rider before the man could hit the ground. My apologies, Brenton Bromsson, but Konner just fought a shade before we had to flee. Then we spent a month flying with no sleep. Needless to say he is tired and there won't be much he can do for you right now. When Brenton nodded and a young page ran up, Talon followed to a lavish house next to the palace.

Brenton watched as Konner was taken to the house and then he turned with a flourish to look at Seril. I hear you are very knowledgeable, young Seril, but fear fighting. I can help you learn what is necessary but first introductions are in order. My name is Brenton Bromsson, heir to the Varden because of my father and king of the elves. This golden dragon is my partner, Grazael, who is young right now. As for these two they will be your fellow students, Isrydia and Arlyn. I suspect you will learn a lot from them as they too are intelligent.

[Quetzal]

Finally Isrydia and Arlyn had a clear view of their new fellow student. He was around Isrydia's age, and did not look arrogant or unfriendly as Isrydia had feared. At least, that was going by his rather abnormal introduction. She smiled when he fell. It was not a mocking smile, instead one of relief that this guy looked to be a nice person. Arlyn glanced back as the big red dragon walked away with his tired Rider. Flying for a long time with multiple people must be exhausting!

He ran up to Ophelia to get a closer look at the younger dragon. She sure did like her sleep. Brenton was bound to try doing something about that, and he and Grazael would want her to be active so they could play. He nudged the pewter dragon gently with his muzzle.

Isrydia waved a hand in greeting when Brenton introduced her. So, he feared fighting? She herself had been trained as a knight before becoming a Rider. While she had no fear of combat, it was a last resort for her as she preferred to settle things more peacefully. "Hello," she greeted Seril, "Is there anything we can do for you right now? Must've been a long trip. Then we can get to work! There's loads to learn. The elves know a lot! Not just about fighting, either; magic and the stars and history and, well, just about everything," she said excitedly.

[serilkane]

Seril hoisted Ophelia high into his arms while she snoozed on. The young dragon had tired herself out from the sheer excitement of finally landing and meeting the others. Seril couldn't help but smile fondly down at her as the strange trickle of her dreams wafted across their mental link. The young man peered up at Brenton and those who had gathered to greet him rather nervously. With a soft grunt of effort he pushed himself upright and bowed his head in respect. "Thank you," he replied, voice quiet. It was really too much. Just a month ago he was Seril, bookworm and deserter of the Varden. But here he stood as Seril, fresh Dragon Rider and pupil to the king of the elves. A strange wave of emotion swept over him, misting his eyes. Likely due to sheer fatigue, Seril nodded a few times before continuing, his tone respectful and calm.

"It is truly an honor to be in your presence," he began. Ophelia squirmed in his grip, but Seril kept her from falling with a bit of effort due to her weight. They wanted to know what they could do for him? What they proposed already far exceeded anything he could've ever hoped or dreamed of. Isrydia and Brenton's generosity astounded him. "There is nothing more I could ask for." Though, Seril couldn't help the spark that twinkled into his eye as the woman, who appeared around his own age, mentioned the vast store of knowledge the elves kept stored away. He wished to immerse himself in it, find out as much as he could. The young man fell silent then, entirely uncertain what else to say. His stomach was fairly empty. They had depleted his feedbag during the trip and the dilapidated state of his tunic left little to the imagination of his thin, lanky form. All in all Seril knew he appeared rather rough, but he asked for nothing.

[Brenton]

Brenton smiled warmly and then looked around until he came to where he had left the sack of fruits and breads he had been carrying just before seeing Talon flying down toward them. He walked over and picked it up before he walked back and handed Seril the bag which held four loaves of bread and a wide variety of fruits that would help him gain his strength as well as fight the hunger that was sure to be starting in. Yes, we have vast stores of knowledge and plenty of time to learn but I must say that you are going to have to learn more about warfare as well and you can't let your dragon sleep all the time. When you and her have rested then Grazael will start teaching her how to fly and Arlyn will be sure to help as well. There are many things she must learn and you will be given four books filled with the Ancient Language as well as several stacks of parchment and a fresh quill with four pots of ink. Each day you will keep a log of how you learn and you will write down what you can in the language of the elves. By the end of these next two months you should be able to write from memory at least half of the first book in Ancient Language.

He thought carefully and then continued with a sigh and a slight shake of his head at how this was turning out to sound like what his mentor in Uru'baen had said to him. Next week I will speak with Rhunon to see if she can outfit you with armor and weapons fit for a rider but she won't be able to give you a true riders blade unless you convince her yourself. After that I will let Isrydia teach you sword play and when you get past that then I will start sparring with you. Each day will be filled with lessons in the Ancient Language, magic and its origins, sword training, learning about your dragon, and then you will sit and we will review everything that you know. I expect you to keep your appearance to high standards as each rider holds high rank within society. When by yourself or with myself or Isrydia then you can dress casually but you must be well groomed. Then Brenton pulled out his own journal that he had kept to show Seril what it looked like before he gave Seril one for himself that was blank. He would have to get the other materials to him later as right at the moment everything was not on him.

[Quetzal]

Isrydia noticed that Seril also looked interested at the prospect of the great wealth of knowledge the elves had to offer. That was good. They were both interested in learning, then, which boosted their chances of getting along. She respected his politeness, but it was obvious he was hungry and his dragon was tired. The sleepy creature was getting too big to be held, but just as Arlyn had done, still persisted at spending time in her Rider's arms. It was quite cute. Arlyn seemed curious about her, sitting watching her. He viewed every new dragon he saw with an incredibly friendly perspective, loving to meet other members of his own species.

She was glad Brenton had thought to bring food with him, as she didn't see Seril asking for any out of politeness. He seemed a lot more serious about training Seril than he had when he first offered to train her; then again, her lessons had grown more intense until now Seril's training more or less matched hers in description. She supposed Brenton was more used to having a pupil now, so knew what he was doing better. The schedule seemed strict and tiring, but that was because with the Rider Order depleted from the Fall, they needed to train their new Riders up quickly to be able to make up the numbers in their ranks. It came as a surprise to her that she would be the one in charge of sparring with Seril and teaching him combat skills, however. She might be a knight, but she still felt the same as she had done before. She probably was capable of teaching another person, but didn't feel like it. It made her nervous, but excited at the same time.

"Good luck getting any weapon from Rhunon," Isrydia remarked to Brenton and Seril, "She vowed ages ago in the Ancient Language to not make any more. That's why I've still got my old sword, Nettle. It's so familiar to me I wouldn't replace it unless I could get a really excellent sword. Brightsteel is very rare, too. Perhaps there's another metal or alloy out there that works just as well, though," she smiled, wondering what that might be. She didn't know anything about smithing or metals. Maybe it would be a good idea to read up on it so she might be able to find someone to help. "Learning stuff is just as important as learning to fight, though. The Riders were originally intended to be peacekeepers, scholars and diplomats first, warriors later. Unfortunately recent circumstances mean peacekeeping involves a lot more fighting. You had much training with a weapon before? Have a preferred weapon?" she asked.

[serilkane]

Seril stood in silence, merely absorbing what both Brenton and Isrydia had to tell him. It was a lot to take in. With a quick nudge from her Rider, Ophelia woke with a start, tumbling out of his arms and onto the ground with a rather solid thud. Stretching out her limbs, the young dragon pushed the backs of his legs with her snout, the small scales catching on the material of his boots. Seril politely passed her a good majority of the fruit in the bag. It was unlike most people around his age, but the young man honestly didn't like fruit very much. It was too sweet for his tastebuds. The Rider longed for the bitter and salty meats the dwarves back in Farthen Dur had provided. He internally shrugged and began munching on a pear, realizing just how ravenous he had been.

Seril make quick work of the food, careful not to appear too slovenly. After draining a waterskin, for he usually preferred to avoid wine, Seril nodded once at Brenton and murmured his thanks, long fingers wrapping around the journal. He was honestly excited for the opportunity to learn more of his new vocation and craft, his energy reigniting like a campfire that'd been smoldering over night. With a soft clearing of his throat, Seril pledged his loyalty to the course Brenton had laid out for him, committing it to memory. Seril was intent on proving himself and his capabilities to the others gathered. He wasn't going to be a wasted effort. Nodding resolutely, Seril turned to Isrydia and Arlyn. "Seril Kanesson," he murmured quietly, a hand thrusting forward awkwardly in order to introduce himself.

A quick blush rose to his cheeks. Seril had completely forgotten about being a warrior in his attempt to care for Ophelia. A sword? He hadn't a sword. And now he was expecting to convince someone else that he was worthy of a Rider's Blade? Oh, no. He nodded again, much less sure of himself as he was in his studies. "I- Erm. I've trained a bit with a flamberge. It's a type of rapier," he recited at top speed, having memorized the ins and outs of the unconventional weapon several years prior. "When parrying with such a sword, unpleasant vibrations may be transmitted into the attacker's blade. These vibrations caused the blades to slow contact with each other, as additional friction was encountered with each wave. The unusual cross section of the blade also would inflict wider wounds with a thrust, while still keeping the blade light." Seril inhaled deeply, having said that in one breath.

[Brenton]

-Time Skip-

The fight in the forest had left many hearts ripped and destroyed, especially since the entire royal family had been eradicated in less than a year. Still ringing in his ears, Konner could hear the heart wrenching keening of Grazael right before the explosion of pure energy. He forced himself to blink away the tears as the man remembered how his friend had allowed the magic to tear his body apart in an effort to save King Laetri. The king had been in a battle with Ashendale and was losing when Brenton gathered all the energy he could to get through the barriers and teleport Ashendale away. It was then that he had named Laetri king and Konner the mentor of his pupils. After a few weeks of mourning, Konner finally had been able to leave to train Seril and Isrydia.

[serilkane]

It had been weeks since Seril and Ophelia had begun their education. The coursework was rigorous, but rewarding. In a matter of days Seril had managed to transcribe two of the four compendiums Brenton had set him to work on, as well as several of the elves written manuscripts of various topics. It wasn't easy, by any means. Seril had difficulty reading their flowing script, but it seemed they had an almost endless supply of knowledge, some written in the human or dwarvish runic alphabet. Ophelia, on the other hand, wasn't having as easy a time. She was growing at a rapid rate, which left her more clumsy and haphazard about her movements. It seemed only days ago that she was small enough to be lifted up into Seril's arms, but now the crown of her head came up to his knees and weighed nearly an impossible amount. By the day she became more and more of a miniature wrecking ball.

Sometime during their third week terror struck throughout Du Weldenvarden. The demon Rider Ashendale and his compatriot Nelfarion lashed out at the great forest. A few elite warriors and their guard rushed off to protect the forest from their treacherous grips. It was then that Seril realized how much he had come to care for his teachers, Brenton, Grazael, Isrydia, and Aryln. As they strode off into the forest in pursuit of this monstrosity, Seril sat and prayed to a number of Dwarven gods for their safe return. He had attempted to study during their absence, but found that he couldn't concentrate on the task. They'll be alright, won't they? I mean, it's one dragon and their Rider against a few dozen others. What could go wrong? Ophelia silently agreed, her attention otherwise preoccupied by half of a deer carcass.

As the time ticked by Seril grew more and more impatient, eager to have his teachers back. It wasn't for some time that a thin elf approached him from the brush nearby. He had very indistinct features, dark hair, and a thin frame. Really, he appeared as any other elf Seril had come to know. This elf informed him of the horror that had befallen Brenton and of his final words. Shock coursed through Seril and Ophelia loped nearby, leaving behind her meal. How could this have happened? Brenton was the king of the Elves. He was young, intelligent, if perhaps a little overly attached to his work and duties, and nearly invincible. Seril sat heavily on the ground, Ophelia curling up at his feet, her large opalesque eyes gazing up at him sheepishly. He may not have been particularly close to Brenton, but to have someone so powerful swept away without any trace of a body, it was almost unreal. Their enemies were greater than anything Seril could've possibly imagined.

As his dark thoughts began to consume him, Ophelia nudged Seril with her mind, her depth muting his pain. Don't let his sacrifice be in vain, Seril. The maturity in her voice shook the young man from his misery. He nodded a few times, a hand reaching up to wipe away the moisture that had accumulated in his eyes.

The next few weeks passed in routine. Seril arose just like any other day that he would have training. He made his way silently towards the glade Brenton had set aside for training purposes and he did his lessons. Should someone come by he answered them softly, nothing conveying the deeper conviction he'd set himself out on. Seril realized that he and Isrydia were Brenton's heirs. They were his students and it was their responsibility to make sure he hadn't passed into the void for naught. It was their mantle to bear just as much their burden. And Seril was determined not to let Brenton down. He redoubled his efforts in both swordsmanship, though with little progress aside from basic parrying skills. The most remarkable leap in his education was Seril's efforts in the Ancient Language. In the weeks leading up to Brenton's funeral service Seril had committed to memory all four compendiums Brenton had set him to learning. He had a basic understanding of the Ancient Language and its many clauses and insinuations, though he'd yet to begin actual spellwork.

The service was beautiful. Seril stood in a line of those who wished to pay respect to the Elven king, paying no mind to the many tears and lamentations offered. The area had to be large enough for several dragons to enter and sit comfortably, though it surprised Seril just how many dragons and Riders were present. As it came to be his turn Seril shifted the finely embroidered tunic he'd been given by the Elves and cleared his throat. "Sé mor'ranr ono finna, Brenton-ebrithil. Ono thelduin älfa helthr onr breoal un deyja frá nosu breoal. Stydja unin mor'ranr, Könungr Brenton. Onr andlát neo wilae waíse." May you find peace, Master Brenton. You ruled the Elves as your family and you died for us all because we're your family. Rest in peace, King Brenton. Your death will not be for nothing. It was a strange dialect and Seril stumbled over the words in the beginning, but as he spoke the words a strange pulling sensation in the back of his mind made Seril quite aware of a sudden drain on his energy. It wasn't enough to render him incapacitated, but as he walked away from the empty space that would hold Brenton's lifeless body, he felt himself a little unsteady. Seril rested a hand against a large oak tree nearby, eyes focused on the ground to settle his stomach.

Ophelia spoke a few words for Brenton and continued on much the same as Seril had, her snout nuzzling the back of his knee earnestly. The young man offered a quick, reassuring smile, but remained silent otherwise. Sometime later he made his way back to the glade where Brenton had taught them, now finally able to concentrate on his studies again. Konner, he had discovered, was to be teaching them and Seril was certain not to miss his first lesson with a new teacher.

[Quetzal]

(Ophelia must be a month old now, how big is she? I know you said knee height, but that was before the stuff about Brenton's death, so I wasn't sure if you meant that was her height at the time of Brenton's death or not))

Isrydia and Arlyn had both deeply enjoyed having Seril and Ophelia around. Isrydia preferred the company of a few people over a lot of people. Spending most of her time training with two people, sometimes other elves or Riders as well, suited her. Then had come the fateful day Brenton had contacted her mind asking her to help him. The day began as any other, ended with her witnessing the death of one of her closest friends and his dragon. In the couple of weeks since then, she had behaved quite differently to her normal self. Her bubbly enthusiasm faltered. Smiles were but a memory now to a face which had once known them as well as her lungs knew breathing. Her eyes were sad, her expression one of helpless misery. From chatting excitedly about anything that interested her, she had grown quiet and reserved. She always seemed somewhat distant, only half there, unable to focus on the present. Her expression rarely changed, making her appear to barely notice the world around her.

In her mind, Arlyn could see just how ruined she was by the events of that day. Her mind felt like it was constantly weeping in mourning, a great empty hole in her heart. That blank hole was what made her seem so distant. Her sadness took away from her ability to care. Seeing her like this pained him greatly. He was upset at what had happened, of course, but not as much as he would have been. Shortly afterwards, a puzzlingly mature sounding Grazael had contacted him to let him know he was still alive, but had told him to keep their lives a secret. It was a great burden on him. At any moment, he could stop Isrydia's suffering by simply saying a few words. Yet he had promised he would not. If he told Isrydia, people would notice she was suddenly happy again or she might tell someone, and the news would spread. He did not know why Grazael did not want anyone else to know they were alive, but he held true to the request, desperately waiting for them to return.

Arlyn was two months old when they met Konner to resume proper training. She had still trained, teaching Seril, reading books and studying with him, but had not had a proper mentor. Arlyn had been a month old when they arrived at Ellesmera, then just a few weeks later Brenton had died. The couple of weeks since had brought him to reach two months old. His wings and legs looked too big for his body. He now reached above Isrydia's shoulder in height, the very top of his head level with her eyes. He was nearing the size at which Isrydia would be able to ride him. Grazael had been able to carry Brenton at a month of age, so he was glad to be finally getting there. While he had grown fast in his first few days as well as when he started growing at a normal rate again after Anurin healed his wound, he noticed that he had been slowing down the taller he grew.

The pair looked at Konner now, waiting for him to begin talking to them. Isrydia might have once started a conversation, but now she waited in silence, feeling neither bored nor impatient. She stood close to Seril but not too close, comforted by his familiar presence as well as that of Arlyn on her other side. He rested his head on her shoulder. Getting a new teacher was another way of moving on from Brenton and Grazael, another admittance that he really gone while life carried on as normal without him. It was hard to admit a death you had yet to accept, and hard for Arlyn to not cave to his guilt and let his Rider know the truth.

[Brenton]

((Okay so I guess we'll go and dive right in.))

Konner raised his eyes and then brought out the blue blade he had been given by Kialandi to give to one of the two pupils. Now he looked at Undbitr and suddenly saw a flash of gold in the sword's polished blade. He looked up in shock and circling overhead was a gold dragon that looked to be twelve years or older. Just then a blur of movement shot forth and where Undbitr had once been now rested empty air. The rider blade quivered in the hand of the rider who had lost it, Brenton. Well, Konner, are you sure you know how to fight? Brenton turned to Isrydia and Seril with a smile as he sheathed the sword. Do either of you happen...

Brenton was cut off by the feeling of a sword against his back. "You are not welcome here, imposter. Brenton died awhile back and you presume to..." The deep roar echoed around them and Grazael dropped down with his teeth bared. Now then, how have you two fared in your learning?

[serilkane]

Seril stood remarkably still, Ophelia by his heels. She was about half the size of Arlyn, but seemingly more muscle-bound. With his head bowed in respect to Brenton's memory and Konner's new title, he cast a sideways glance at Isrydia. It honestly bothered him that the once bubbly and vivacious woman had become little more than a empty shell. A shadow of her former self. But how can you comfort someone whose lost so much? He'd never say it, but Seril had posed the question of Brenton and Isrydia's relationship to Ophelia a number of times. They seemed rather close, perhaps more than a student and teacher. However, Seril knew his boundaries and had decided to let the matter rest.

Seril! Look! Ophelia shouted at Seril, whose gaze shot upwards at her command. A flash of gold was the only warning before Brenton reappeared on the ground before them. Seril tensed suddenly, brows furrowing. The king was supposed to have passed on, but here he was seemingly safe, if not entirely sound. Something strange had occurred if this was indeed Brenton. He appeared to have aged some since Seril's last encounter with him, his skin also somewhat darker (likely from his exposure to the sun in the desert). The young Rider was unfamiliar with the aging patterns of half-elves, but certainly they must contain some of their parents inherent grace and flawlessness.

Seril's hand flew, not to the flamberge on his belt, but to his chest; a familiar habit in times of absolute concentration. Seril had yet to cast a spell, with the minor exception being Brenton's funeral, so he was remiss to attempt that route as well. Instead his analytic gaze flitted about the shadowed glade, a dozen or so plans sprouting into existence. It wasn't likely that he could possibly best this Brenton look-alike in a fight, but perhaps he could sway the tides in their favor should it come down to it. After all, it was six against two and he was liking their odds.

[Brenton]

Konner dropped to the ground in a crouch with his own sword drawn as the massive golden dragon fell to the ground roaring in anger. He hadn't had much contact with Grazael but Konner knew that the dragon hadn't been that large before so he doubted this was the same dragon. "Tell me, Brenton, if that is your name, how is it that you and Grazael left only a couple months ago and now you appear and your dragon is as large as a dragon of twelve years old?" Konner looked at Brenton skeptically and then suddenly the blue blade was pointed back at Konner. When I disappeared, in a large explosion of magic to save you all, I appointed Laetri as king and told him to watch the elves in my absence. Then I turned to you and told you to train Isrydia and Seril as your students and to remember what I told you. If I were an imposter then would I know those things while being able to hold this sword and command you to stand down? You may not remember this but I am of the royal family and even as a former king, I still outrank you and therefore, Konner, as son of Islanzadi, I tell you to stand down and put away your sword.

When Konner did not do as instructed and instead Talon swooped down to attack Grazael, the younger but larger golden dragon shot out of reach and swatted the five year old dragon aside. Arlyn can tell you all who we are and that we are in fact still alive. I contacted him right after the fight and let him know we were alive but to keep it a secret. It was safest for you all to believe us dead in case Nelfarion or Ashendale returned demanding our location. Finally Konner sheathed his blade and looked at Isrydia curiously hoping she could clear all of this up. Yet before she could, Brenton walked over and spoke softly. I told you that I had never given up hope and that you shouldn't die. I also told you that I believed you are destined to be as great as Eragon. Does this not prove who I am in it and of itself? Still if it doesn't, from the day we met I have tried to convince you I love you and you told me it would complicate our relationship and you wanted us to be friends. Now I stand before you saying all of this because only I would know this aside from you or our dragons.

[Quetzal]

The other two grew quiet. Isrydia followed Seril's gaze upwards, eyes widening as she saw a familiar gold form fly across the sky. Could it be? Was she just imagining things? She did not dare believe it for the fear of the crushing disappointment that would come when she found that Brenton was not alive after all. What was dead stayed dead. Anything that disobeyed that rule had a habit of ending up twisted, and she had never heard of a dragon coming back to life before. A rush of wind under the force of great wings confirmed Brenton and Grazael's existence, but they looked different. Older. Her breath caught in her throat, heart beating faster in fear now rather than hope. She took a step closer to Seril, right hand reaching for Undbitr's hilt - only to find it had gone. Instead, it was in the hand of the man who looked like Brenton. He had aged, but since he was a Rider and a half-elf his lifespan was indefinite so it was hard to know how much he had aged by. At a point, the aging process must stop. She didn't really know. Grazael was a better gauge of the unexplained aging. He was far bigger than he had been, and way too large to have simply grown to that size if Arlyn's growth was anything to go by. It could be explained by magically accelerated growth, but this was a huge amount of acceleration and Brenton was not the sort of person who would do that.

Konner threatened the man he thought was an imposter. Brenton turned to her to confirm his identity. He claimed that he was the only one who could know of his feelings for her besides their dragons, but she frowned and looked down at the ground, shaking her head. "That's not true, you're not the only one who could know about that. I've seen in people's expressions that they noticed the way you act around me. Someone may have suspected something. Besides, any imposter cold find out everything about you if they could break your mind. How do I know Nelfarion and Ashendale didn't somehow find out everything about you through your minds or other sources, then take on your forms?" she asked, wishing she could just believe it was really him. "I'm sorry, I really am, but you can't turn up having aged what, twelve years, Konner said, in a few weeks, and not expect us to be suspicious," she looked at him sadly, feeling very strange.

Grazael's claim rang through their heads and Isrydia turned to stare at Arlyn, who had taken his head off her shoulder to hang it sheepishly. "Arlyn..." there was an immense feeling of betrayal in the small tone of her voice. He looked away. "It's true," he told everyone present, speaking in the Ancient Language. Over the weeks that had passed, his mental voice had matured somewhat, still youthful but no longer a child's voice. Isrydia could only stare. "You knew they were alive? All this time, and you just stood by and let us suffer? How could you?" she did not raise her voice. She was not angry with him, rather disappointed. She felt betrayed. Somehow, her calmer tones were worse than if she'd shouted at him. He looked into her eyes solemnly, sharing with only her his guilt and upset with having to see her like that when he could do something about it. "I promised I wouldn't tell," he said simply to everyone. Isrydia's thoughts didn't change. He was not forgiven yet.

Isrydia turned back to Brenton and Grazael, more prepared to trust them with this new evidence. "That may be, but you could still be imposters and the real Brenton and Grazael could be elsewhere. Your aging provides a convenient way to explain away any changes. Just... please tell us how you're still alive and why you're so much older," she failed to think of any way the two could prove they were still themselves. No-one here knew their true names, which might have even changed if their experiences away had been great enough, so saying who they were in the Ancient Language couldn't prove anything.

[Brenton]

Brenton looked at Isrydia sadly as she said what she had to, each word cutting deeper into his chest like a sword through skin. He blinked away tears and then realized what he would have to do to prove who he was or at least try to prove if the words weren't good enough. Silently he said a prayer to whatever deity existed out there and happened to be looking down upon this scene at the very moment. With a deep breath, Brenton brushed his hair aside and kissed Isrydia. The kiss would have never happened but he hoped that the woman would realize who he was, pouring all of the emotion and passion he could into that one touch of his lips against hers. Brenton allowed his mind to touch Isrydia's, knowing every mind had a distinct feeling to theirs and that no one could ever replicate that feeling. Trust me, Isrydia, I am who I say. Please just listen to me so I can explain the best I can or there will be more heartache for everyone if you go around doubting and wondering if you were right about disbelieving me. My words may not mean anything to you but... I love you, Isrydia, and I hope you understand. Brenton pulled away from the woman, tears glistening in his eyes as he lowered them and moved to turn away.

Grazael growled and then glared at Talon before he turned to Arlyn. Vaentr cast a spell just before the explosion and it didn't kill us like it should have. Instead we were transported to the edge of the desert just outside the forest and woke up to find that we were different. The only explanation for that is that the two spells collided and created some side effect that aged Brenton and I to the age we would have been had that fight gone on and we hadn't sent away Ashendale and Nelfarion. Explaining magic is complicated but all I can say is I hope that Brenton has proved himself to Isrydia now that he spoke his true feelings.

Konner blinked and then growled in his throat but stopped when Brenton kissed Isrydia like that. There was no desperation or hatred in the contact but just love and fear that she wouldn't believe him. This had to be the king or he wouldn't have gone to such extremes to prove himself to someone who he didn't know. Konner knelt down on one knee and bent his head in regret. "Forgive me, Brenton, I am sorry for not believing you when you said who you are."

[serilkane]

Seril's posture relaxed as Arlyn revealed his hand in the disappearance in Brenton. It was a betrayal, even if necessary. Sure, Seril could understand the necessity to keep Brenton and Grazael's existence a secret, but that didn't make it any better or soothe his bruised feelings. He had come fairly closer to his teachers, he'd thought. And yet they had allowed a funeral service in their name to occur. It had been hard for Seril and Ophelia to walk down the line and pay their last respects. Shaking his head slowly, Seril reached out to Ophelia with his mind. Am I wrong in this? He asked, after having explained his stance on the matter. It had transgressed in a matter of seconds. The young dragon shifted her position, neck craning out as she sniffed the air.

They smell the same, if maybe a little dirtier than usual. That hadn't been the response Seril was looking for, but he took what he could get. It wasn't unlike her to not fully address his thoughts until much later on, when she had little else to draw her attention elsewhere. She projected her thoughts to both Arlyn and Isrydia in order to say that they did in fact smell quite the same as they had before. Seril removed his hand from the pommel of his sword, though his movements were rather stiff and rigid, as if he were uncomfortable and had been riding horseback for days on end. If Ophelia trusted them, then he did as well. Besides, her judgment hadn't failed him yet, even if it was fleeting that she spoke truly wisely.

Forgotten, but not likely forgiven. Seril would continue to study under Brenton, of course. And he would pay him all due respects and be grateful for the education he was to receive, but it was unlikely that the young man would be able to rekindle the familiar relationship they had all had during the start of his education. Besides, he thought it was fairly clear that Brenton had favorite students, neither of which were Seril or Ophelia. Somewhere in the back of his mind Seril was reminded of the oath he'd sworn at Brenton's funeral, to avenge his death. He pondered, only for a moment, just how binding it was considering Brenton was alive before them. He shook his head again, clearing his mind of the thoughts for now, promising both himself and Ophelia that he would look into it further at a later date. Perhaps Isrydia might be able to shed some light on the situation.

However, all thoughts of Ancient Language oaths were swept aside as Brenton and Grazael continued in their explanation, finally culminating in a kiss. His thick brows shot upwards, hands resting on his hips. Well, that's interesting. It would make sense why someone's the favorite. I wonder how long he's been courting Isrydia and why she didn't mention it before. Ophelia shared his concern silently, her head cocking to the side slightly. Do you think they're engaged? Seril was unfamiliar with the elves concept of marriage or courtship rituals. It was unlikely that they had to get each other's parents' consent, however. Elves, as a whole it seemed, had a much less sense of community than humans. Or, perhaps their community was just so vast and alien to Seril he couldn't grasp at the concept. Ophelia marched over to Arlyn, her head nuzzling into his foreleg. Severing her link to Seril, she expressed a minor concern for their continual rotation of teachers and asked politely of his well-being, mostly through images and vague rippling emotions. 

[Quetzal]

Without warning, Brenton kissed Isrydia. She did not kiss him back. She liked him, sure, but not in that way. Instead, she just stood there, frozen to the spot and unsure what to do. She had not been in this situation before. There had been a guy before, back in her hometown, but she had never had someone she didn't love in that way turn up as unexpectedly as was humanely possible then kiss her like this before. His mind felt more or less the same, and his feelings were definitely true, she realised now. An imposter surely could not be that good at acting. Once it was over, there were tears shining in her eyes too, but they did not fall. She was overwhelmed by everything. Arlyn may have promised Grazael he would keep the secret, but she would have thought he would at least trust her with something like that. He was the closest living thing to her, and it hurt that he would keep something so important from her at the expense of so much suffering. Brenton and Grazael really were alive. They had aged. That was a good thing, but it was dampened by the fact that it would seem Brenton still hadn't gotten over her. She really wished she could reciprocate his feelings for her, but there was no way she would follow in Arlyn's footsteps and lie. She pushed him away, crossing her arms. "It's really you," she said simply.

There was a pause. "You... you said we could just be friends and our relationship didn't have to go past that. I still don't like you in the same way you like me, and I don't want to go through all that horrible stuff the last time I had to turn you down. You put me through so much, letting us all think you were dead! Now you're just going to turn up and... and what? Confess your love again? You have to move on. Please don't do this," she begged, actually raising her voice for the first time in a long time. In fact, the last time she had raised her voice in true anger or frustration that she could recall had been aimed at Brenton as well, when she had argued against him in favour of allowing an Empire Rider to be an Elder at the formation of the Rider Branches. She turned to Seril, remembering he wouldn't know about Brenton's feelings for her. That might make what was happening now pretty confusing for him. "Brenton has feelings for me, as he said, but I don't reciprocate them. I didn't mention it to you because he told me before you arrived that he was ready to put it all behind him and move on, that we could be just friends," she explained.

Arlyn had snorted when Brenton kissed Isrydia. He was still at that? He cast a wary glance at Grazael, concerned the two would fall out as he knew Isrydia would never love Brenton in any way other than as a friend. He did find the golden dragon's explanation intriguing as it opened up a host of new questions. "That's unusual. Maybe this could help us learn more about magic," he commented, already thinking about it.

He looked down when he felt Ophelia nuzzling his foreleg, and bent his head down to touch his muzzle to the top of her head in response. He knew she could use words as effectively as he could at her age, but there were times when images and emotions were just quicker ways to get the point across. He too was concerned about the rotation of teachers, as they had had a number of mentors teaching them bits and pieces here and there, but he tried to reassure her that now Brenton was back, he and Grazael would be able to teach them without any rotation needed. As for the inquiry to his well-being, he shared with her a taste of his guilt along with a sense of confusion at what was going on and loyalty towards Grazael as his justification for keeping the dragon's existence a secret. He then asked how she was doing and if she understood what was happening. In his experience, humans tended to just say they were 'fine' or 'great, thanks' unless they felt really bad, but that seemed pretty pointless to him.

[Brenton]

Brenton looked slightly confused as he tried to make himself come back to reality from his mind where he had honestly thought that maybe his absence had made Isrydia's feelings stronger towards him. He blinked a few times and sighed as he listened to her yell at him about how she didn't want to go through this again and he smiled sadly. I never asked you to say you loved me as well, just that I love you and that was the only way I could see proving to you who I was. While I did promise to just be friends I never once promised my feelings would change right away and yes there have been two months since then but you don't understand the pain I went through trying to keep our existence secret from you. Every day I would sit awake and look out at the stars while imagining how you would react if only I told you but I never once thought I would kiss you at all even if you had asked me to. Isrydia, I'm sorry but I can't ever promise my feelings will completely change and that is just how it will be for the rest of my life. Brenton turned back to Seril and smirked as he realized what the boy must be thinking, seeing him kiss Isrydia like that.

Seril, there is no simple way to explain what is going on but the best thing to do is to tell you what happened from the day I met Isrydia for the first time. Her old teacher, Sir William of the Varden, was at a celebration when I arrived and we didn't exactly see eye to eye because he didn't trust me which was a bad way to start out the day. Anyhow I was busy conversing with others when a rider from the elves rode up and was shot at because his dragon is black as night like Shruikan. When Emiryal contacted me asking me to have the Varden stop their assault I walked outside and destroyed the weapons they were using and then there was a fight with William. If not for Nasuada who rode up right then, there would have been a fight. Isrydia happened to have been there and after the near fight, an egg was given to me. In that moment the egg hatched and Grazael came out to see the world. Grazael and Arlyn were born so close together and so they became like brothers which led to Isrydia and I meeting outside the city. Out there I talked with her and we agreed to go to Ellesmera together, the entire time I was thinking that she was beautiful. Along the way a shade attacked our camp and Arlyn was hurt but before that I thought she would make it back safe so I bade Isrydia farewell and told her my feelings then.

The time wore on and our two dragons grew until we made it here and met a strange woman named Farore who had lost her memory. It was Arlyn who told me where Isrydia was because I couldn't concentrate and so I ran to the city and asked her out after telling her my feelings yet again. There was a brief frustration between us because she couldn't like me the same way so she told me that. In my sadness I left and roamed the forest for a little while until I deemed it had been enough time. When I got back Isrydia was nervous and so when Grazael told me she was scared to hurt me then I contacted Isrydia mentally and told her I was willing to be just friends because I didn't want to lose her as a friend. This is all that has happened romantically between us up until today but I am still going to say that there was never any intention for me to kiss Isrydia because I knew how she felt towards me.

Brenton took in a deep breath and looked to Grazael who gave a small nod and then laid down next to Arlyn. This had grown increasingly uncomfortable so the dragon was unable to really help in any way in the situation.