Arya sighed as we finished loading the horses onto the raft. “You don’t need to keep pouting. Nothing happening is a good thing.”

“They started a riot the other day. I was expecting them to attack us on our way out if they went that far to make us feel unwelcome.”

“Assaulting us right now would mean making enemies of three Dwarf clans, the elves, and the Varden. Even if your enemies are reckless, they are not stupid. They will not risk everything to strike at you when there is a chance you will escape and create even more enemies for themselves.”

I huffed. “Selectively intelligent enemies. The most annoying type.”

Surprisingly Saphira seemed to agree with me with an irritated snort. Although considering she was almost completely submerged in the water with only her head visible it was possible she was just clearing water out of her nose. I chose to believe she shared my opinion of the Az Sweldn rak Anhûin until someone clarified.

“Here is where we must part.” Ûndin said, clasping Eragon’s arm. “You have my best men; they will protect you until you reach Du Weldenvarden.” The Rider tried to thank him for his help but the Dwarf just shook his head. “No, it is not a matter for gratitude. It is my duty. I am only shamed that your stay was darkened by the hatred of Az Sweldn rak Anhûin.”

Despite him saying that I still thanked the clan chief before joining the others on one of the rafts. And with little fanfare, the mooring ropes were released and we drifted through the water towards our destination.

-o-

“I feel like a less racist version of Tom Sawyer.” I mumbled as we drifted down the river.

“Who’s that?” Ama, one of the dwarf guards asked.

“A character from some children’s stories back home. He lived on a river like this one and had a few minor adventures. Little things like tricking other children into doing his chores for him or trying to impress a girl into marrying him.” Or something like that. I hadn’t exactly read those stories any time recently. “I think most were intended as ways to teach children to think things through instead of just listening to others blindly.”

“That seems rather cynical. Why not just teach your children that lesson directly?”

I laughed at that. “Yeah, because children always listen to their elders.”

Ama just nodded. “Indeed, children must listen and be instructed by their parents and the clan. Only then can they learn the proper way to interact with the world. Unless human children are different?”

I stared at Ama in shock at the rather totalitarian view of raising children before I saw the slight smile and realized the entire thing had been a joke. The guard was apparently a dry comedian, hilarious.

Still, I could deal with one snarky guard for a view like this. The entire river reminded me of some pictures I had seen of Alaska. Calm blue waters, thick marches along the riverbanks with various birds all along the waterline, and thick forests untouched by civilization extending all the way up to the massive mountains overlooking everything else.

It was beautiful. Especially once the sun started to set.

The peaceful mood was shattered as a piercing scream rang through the air. Everyone on the rafts looked up to see Eragon and Saphira flying above us tangling with three flying lizards. I hesitated to call them dragons, they seemed too small and more snakelike than Saphira and she was already small for a dragon here considering how young she was.

“The hell are those things?” I was on my feet in an instant, bow appearing in my hand and arrow ready. The only thing stopping me from shooting was the fact I wasn’t confident about not hitting the Rider pair just yet and the fact they didn’t seem to be in grave danger for the moment.

“Fanghur.” Orik informed me, even as he moved to my side to watch the aerial duel. “Not as large or as smart as dragons, and they can’t breathe fire. But still formidable foes.”

“You can put your weapon away, Alexandria. It seems Saphira is taking the opportunity to practice flying against an opponent.” Arya added.

I turned back to the four flying shapes to see the elf was right. Saphira had already injured one of them enough that it decided to flee and a sudden blume of blue tinged fire from her maw quickly convinced the other two to follow suit.

“...seems so.”

I wasn’t going to get to fight anything this trip, was I?

-o-

“I had a…vision during my sleep.” Eragon announced to me and Arya the next day while we were sitting at the front of one of the rafts. “A black and crimson sky. Crows and eagles swirling high over a great battle as arrows rained on either side. There’s a man there in damaged armor, but I can’t see his face. And then a…a hand just blots out half the world pointing down at him.”

Goddammit, I didn’t want to deal with prophecies.

“If it’s scrying, then–”

“It’s not scrying.” Arya interrupted, speaking with deliberate slowness. "I thought for a long time about how you saw me imprisoned in Gil’ead, and I believe that as I lay unconscious, my spirit was searching for help, wherever I might find it.”

“Wait, you vehemently deny souls exist, then go spouting off you went on a spirit walk to find help?” I interjected. It had been one of the topics we had been discussing on and off during our travel.

“The spirit and consciousness of a spell caster has been well researched by both the elves and by sorcerers. That there is some mystical element to magic such as souls that you can not prove exists is childish.”

“I’ve told you repeatedly I can prove the soul exists by several methods. You just likely wouldn’t survive any of them!”

“Which conveniently leaves you absent of any solid proof of your claims, as I said before.”

“I literally have swords designed to cut them!”

“A combined mental and physical assault is not a new idea. Even if managing to imbue the weapon with that property is.”

“Yeah, well—”

“So why me?” Eragon interrupted our growing argument.

Arya and I gave each other a look that screamed we would continue this later, admittedly before she turned back to Eragon. “I grew accustomed to Saphira’s presence during the fifteen years I guarded her egg. I was reaching out for anything that felt familiar when I touched your dreams.”

“Are you really strong enough to contact someone in Teirm from Gil’ead? Especially when drugged?”

The elf smiled slightly. “I could stand on the very gates of Vroengard and still speak to you as clearly as I am now.” She said. “If you did not scry me in Teirm, then you could not have scryed this new dream. It must be a premonition. They have been known to occur throughout the sentient species, but especially amongst magic users.”

Eragon didn’t look pleased at her answer.

“If what I saw will come to pass, then how can we change anything that happens? Do our choices matter?”

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much. In most cases future sight is unreliable at best, downright useless at worst.” I commented, idly playing with the water.

“I agree, but what makes you say so?” Arya asked.

“I’ve read a lot about the dangers of prophecies and such and came to the conclusion; worrying about seeing the future is useless.” I shrugged. “The act of observing the future changes the future. Trying to base your life on visions and such means you will be caught off guard if something changes. There’s actually several stories that outline the dangers of trying to learn how to control the future.”

“Oh? Care to share any?”

I decided to give them the classic cautionary tale, the tragedy that was Oedipus Rex, much to their disgust. Still it was a classic example of how trying to preempt a prophecy might enable it to begin with. Then I told them my personal favorite, the tale of the dueling precogs.

It was a simple story. Two seers that hated each other were tasked to figure out the best way to prevent a flood from destroying the town they lived in. They both came up with a solution and looked to the future to see what worked better only to realize the other would sabotage the other. From then on they came up with increasingly elaborate plans to get the edge over the other with neither gaining a clear edge.

“So who was the winner?” Eragon asked when I took a break from storytelling to eat lunch.

“Neither.”

“Neither?”

“Mhmm, the two got so caught up in the future they forgot about the present. While they were fighting a heavy rain caused the flood they were supposed to stop in the first place and both of them drowned.”

“Your stories are not very happy ones are they?”

I smiled at him. “Then let that be another lesson. Everyone who tries to bend the future to their whims is either disappointed by the result or they become a cautionary tale themselves.”

-o-

Those days set the standard for much of our trip.

We would drift down the river, chat with one another or share a few stories, then stop along the banks to eat or sleep. Eragon attempted to train his swordsmanship once, but managed to trigger the curse in his back. I was able to study it enough to at least block the pain but I was nowhere near removing it. The spirit that latched onto him was really connected. I would absolutely paralyze the Rider if I tried to remove it with the tools available to me right now.

At one point Orik decided to go hunting and showed Eragon his bow made of Urgal horn. It was very well made, but far too small for my taste. I also noticed around this time that Arya was starting to act off. Her arguments in our conversations became a little more cutting, she stared off into the distance a little more, and her temper became shorter and shorter with Eragon’s questions.

At one point it got so bad Eragon had to go running after her to apologize.

“I take it you aren’t excited to return home then?” I asked her when she walked away after telling Eragon the reason for her tense behavior was out of fear.

“I did not seek your company to discuss topics I have been harsh with Eragon for broaching.”

“What did you come over here for then?”

“Truthfully I do not know. Perhaps because you know about my status yet still pester me as if I am no one of importance? Perhaps because I would prefer another outsider than the company of humans and dwarves? Perhaps…” Arya seemed to run out of words, but I got the idea. She came looking for a distraction and a friend. If she didn’t want to talk about her fears I could at least help her ignore them.

“Fine, did you want to continue our conversations on different magic systems or do you want me to embarrass myself with more poetry?”

That got a small smile out of the elf. “Let’s not repeat that incident. I’ve learned my lesson on that.”

“See, things would go so much easier if you just listened to me instead of trying to prove yourself right.”