aryaelvinsword

Arya stared up at the plaster coated stone of the embassy ceiling. The events of the last twenty four hours played over and over in her mind, threatening to drown out her attempts to rest. Ajihad was dead. The man everyone had been so sure would lead them to the gates of Urû’baen was gone. Even after a lifetime of loss, Arya felt Ajihad’s death hit particularly hard. The man was a genius strategist and unparalleled negotiator. Under his guidance the Varden had not only survived but thrived even as Galbatorix increased his campaign against them. That wasn’t all. He was not just a military leader. Ajihad had been a personal friend to Arya, Fäolin and Glenwing. Despite being decades younger than the elves, the fallen commander always kept his eye out for them and encouraged all three to speak openly to him if any problems arose. He was kind, just and one of the most honorable men Arya had met during the entire hellish war. Unbidden, the memory of the last occasion Arya had spent