The problem with waking up in an underground room after spending a few days hiking through mountains is that I had absolutely no reference for time anymore. The sun was never visible until late morning, almost afternoon, and dipped behind another in the afternoon nearly as fast. Being underground, I didn’t even have the chance to guess what time it was.

Murtagh had already woken up given the way his head moved when I started moving around, but he was obviously not interested in either revealing that fact or having a conversation since he continued to lie where he was with his eyes closed. Not far from him, Saphira occasionally let out some low, rumbling snores. How Eragon could sleep through that was a mystery I would need to investigate some other time.

A quick glance around the room revealed there was nothing really interesting to spend time investigating or looking at, so I copied Murtagh in just laying about until someone came to check up on us.

Although it turned out I didn’t need to wait that long. Not long after Eragon and Saphira woke up, a bunch of Varden warriors followed by the bald jackass and Orik funneled through the door. I couldn’t resist chuckling at the look on the first guy’s face when he came through and saw Saphira a few feet away staring directly at him. I wish I had a camera because the look on his face was priceless.

“You have been summoned to Ajihad, leader of the Varden.” the bald man declared to our little group. “If you must eat, do so while we march.”

With that lovely greeting we are herded out into a massive tunnel that cuts into the mountain. It's actually remarkable how well formed the whole thing is considering the whole thing would need to be carved in its entirety by hand tools.

Eragon starts asking after his weapons, horses and Arya only to be told the horses are just up ahead and we won’t get our weapons back until Ajihad says so, not that that particularly matters to me. Arya, however, is still with the healers after her ordeal.

After that we are instructed to line up in the middle of the tunnel, Eragon got yelled at for trying to mount Saphira and was commanded to use his horse until told otherwise. And both him and Murtagh offered the use of their horse to me anyway but I declined. The horses would get tired before I did.

Then we were in for an incredibly boring march. The tunnel occasionally had doors and gates that led to other passageways, but they were all closed so we walked for what literally had to have been close to an hour or more through the same repeating scenery in silence. I tried drawing the guards walking next to me into a conversation multiple times, if only to break up the annoying sound of the horse’s hooves echoing through the tunnel, but I eventually gave up when they completely ignored anything I said.

So I was incredibly relieved when the end of the tunnel lightened considerably, a sign that we were finally coming up on the end of the passage and into what was hopefully our destination. A thought that was confirmed when our lovely tour leader stopped us before we made it to the exit.

“You will ride upon your dragon now.” the bald man said to Eragon. “Do not attempt to fly away. There will be people watching, so remember who and what you are.”

With that lovely bit of encouragement, we passed through the gate into the heart of the mountain. It was a massive hollow space that went on for miles, massive icicles were visible hanging from the ‘ceiling’ where I wasn’t sure anyone could get to without breathing gear and in the center was a smaller mountain inside of a mountain. Focusing on the white shape in the distance I was able to tell it wasn’t actually a mountain, but a city in the middle of the volcanic crater that formed the inside of the cavern.

While I was distracted with the absurdity that was a hollow mountain with a city that large in the middle of it I overheard Orik speaking to Eragon.

“Look well, human, for no Rider has set eyes upon this for nigh over a hundred years. The airy peak under which we stand is Farthen Dûr -- discovered thousands of years ago by the father of our race, Korgan, while he tunneled for gold. And in the center stands our greatest achievement: Tronjheim, the city-mountain built from the purest marble.”

I had to admit; the crater, the mountain, the city… all of it came together in one of the most beautiful scenes I had ever come across. So much so that I think I could be forgiven for missing the swarm of people that stood in front of us in dead silence as I took in the scene. Once I did notice them it was incredibly unnerving how they just stared. Even the children I could see in the crowd made no noise.

Eragon had it worse since he was the main focus of the swarm of gazes and it showed as he made a jerky half-wave at the crowd and then did his best to sink through Saphira and into the floor when no one made a sound. Finally, a single cheer and a smattering of applause broke out from the people gathered before a wave of sound exploded over us.

It seemed like everyone in the crowd was trying to make up for being silent seconds earlier. The bald man prodded Eragon forward and while the people in front of our path quieted a little when Saphira got close, they only got louder again afterwards. Not everyone seemed happy to see a Rider though. A good amount of the dwarves in the crowd were glaring at Eragon and some even turned to leave entirely. Given that dwarves far outnumbered the humans…it was a bit concerning to say the least.

I was practically ignored as we progressed towards Tronjheim, not unexpected since there was a dragon and a Rider in our group; both of them made for more interesting things to stare at than a random person being escorted along with them, so I was free to examine the scenery with no interruptions.

In a word, Tronjheim was...extravagant.

Shining white buildings of carved marble were embellished with more gold than I had imagined. Golden statues lined the walls along with rich tapestries that wove tales of heroes and battles long past. All of that paled under the giant dawn-red gem that hung over the city.

Carved to look like a rose in bloom, it would’ve been the masterpiece in any art collection by the craftsmanship alone. That was without taking into account that it was nearly 20 meters wide and nearly as tall, or how the belt of giant lanterns around it illuminated the gem so that it bathed the city underneath in a gentle red light. Honestly, the gem itself was beautiful enough that I was considering this entire experience worth it just to see it in person.

Entirely too soon for my taste, we were guided down a twisting corridor and through a grand door that led to a richly decorated study. Sitting behind a massive wooden desk was Ajihad, leader of the Varden and one of the people King Galbatorix wanted dead more than anything.

“Welcome to Tronjheim, Eragon and Saphira,” the dark skinned leader of the Varden said in a strong, confident voice. “I am Ajihad. Please, seat yourselves.”

Eragon and Murtagh took a seat in the provided armchairs with Saphira looming protectively behind them. I decided to situate myself further away from the group. The last thing I needed was someone thinking I was close with Eragon’s group and any of them could be used as leverage. Instead, I would establish from the very beginning I was a third party and anything the others agreed to had nothing to do with me. Something Ajihad clearly noticed given the way he looked at me before returning his attention to the others. Before anyone could say anything else, an identical copy of the bald man who escorted us to the study to the other three’s surprise.

“Your confusion is understandable; they are twin brothers.” Ajihad said with a small smile. “I would tell you their names, but they have none.” Saphira showed how much that displeased her with a long hiss that had the leader of the Varden watching her warily. After a bit, Ajihad refocused his attention on Eragon while saying nothing as the two twins scurried off into a corner where they stood side by side.

…

…

Ajihad did a good job of making Eragon uncomfortable between the long pause and the scrutinizing gaze as he sat there with his fingertips pressed together in front of his face. At last he motioned for one of the twins to approach him and we waited while the bald man whispered in Ajihad’s ear.

Ajihad whispered something back and the man paled and shook his head vigorously. Ajihad just frowned like something was confirmed before looking between Murtagh and myself. “You both placed me in a difficult position by refusing to be examined. You have been allowed into Farthen Dûr because the Twins have assured me that they can control you and because of your actions on behalf of Eragon and Arya. I understand that there may be things you wish to keep hidden in your mind, but as long as you do, we cannot trust you.”

“And why should I care whether you trust me or not?” I interrupted before Murtagh could say a word.

“Excuse me?”

“Why. Should. I. Care?” I carefully enunciated each word as I stared down the dark skinned man. “I’m sure you discovered it during Eragon’s examination but I stumbled across their path by accident and only followed along when the other choice was to face an army alone. Since then, your group has threatened me, imprisoned me for no reason, and has attempted to rape my mind.” everyone other than the Twins flinched uncomfortably at that particular comment. “So tell me, what exactly makes me think I can trust you, let alone care about if you trust me or not?”