Part Three: In Which Brey is Utterly Confused About Many Things (and You Probably will be Too), and Things Get Dangerous

Part Two: O’brey

The evening was grey and misty. Melenyáriel the naien trotted swiftly through the trees, her thick, tortoiseshell fur fluffed against the cold. This was the coldest winter she had yet seen. Light snow was falling, collecting in a thin layer on the mossy ground and melting in minute drops on her fur.

Baby and Kitten

Arya and Faolin strolled through Du Weldenvarden,
each lost in their own thoughts, yet
acutely aware of each other.
When they reached the outer edge of Ellesmera,
they parted reluctantly.
Arya walked slowly toward her mother’s chambers,
her hand trailing, fingertips brushing lightly against every plant
she passed.

Chapter Three
Conflict

Arya walked nonchalantly into the outskirts of Ellesmera,
mentally willing no one to notice her.
No such luck.
“Princess Arya!”
Arya sighed deeply and turned around.
A tall elven guard was hurrying toward her, a worried expression on his face.
Arya inwardly groaned, but forced herself to put on a
Pleasant face.
“Yes?”
She queried.
“What is it?”

Feeling him shift slightly, Arya pushed herself upright.
“What happened?” he asked; tenderly feeling his head.
“Feels like an Urgal split my skull open with a battle ax!”
“Well,” said she, “you’re not far off. You fell into the lake
And split your head open on a submerged rock.”
“But, I don’t feel any wounds.”
Arya smiled, waiting for him to figure out the obvious.

This story is fan fiction about a character named "Arya" from the "Inheritence Quartet" by "Christopher Paolini."
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Chapter One: Life or Death

A pattern, etched delicately in silver on a leaf.

A story, in every footprint, every mark in the bark of a tree.

A grace, flowing through the bones and blood of every living creature.

Chapter the Second

Narnia

Narnia, a place of magic and intrigue.
A place where dreams can come true.
A place that evil is always defeated.
A place that many would gladly go.

The beautiful, The brave,
Both apply in this place.
Oh to see, the Table of Stone,
To stand near Cair Paravel

To be one of the first to see that infant world,
As Aslan sang it into being,
To witness the creation,