Hey... If you haven't noticed by the title, this is the third book... go read the others first before your read this one.
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"Are you sure that this is the right place Cousin?" Roran asked as he peeked his head over the grassy, wet dune he lay upon. Ahead of him stood a series of mountainous spires, the stones decrepit and worn down. Around the mountains lay a sprawling camp, black flags flying in the cold wind of the night. Among this encampment were men all clad in the Imperial colours, swords strapped to their sides and spears and shields gripped in their arms. For the men off duty they sat about multiple fires, drinking and laughing to merry stories. All of them were unaware that they were being watched.
A second boy lay next to Roran, his hair a dark brown, his face was shaped perfectly though a drunk man may have been confused enough to say he was a woman. However the boy's eyes were the most distinguishing feature, a haunted brown that were impossible to look away from. Indeed Roran had at times wondered what events had caused such lingering effects, but he already knew. The boy wore a unique garb, clad in the finest of metal and leather he did looked peculiar, yet the armour had proven its worth.
"Aye"Eragon replied, his eyes catching the small flags waving on top of their masts, "Katrina is being held by the Ra'zac, and here is where they hide away".
The older Cousin scratched at his chin, his fingernails catching at his stubble, "but your magic water only showed Katrina, not where she was being held, yet your voice is resolute, I just wish that we could be more certain".
Eragon did not look back at his Cousin, instead his eyes continued to study the military installations that sat at the base of the rotten black mountains, a frown creeping onto his immaculate face at the number of sentries patrolling. Roran soon started to gain in anger at the silence of the Rider and with his sapping patience he reached over, intending to push Eragon in hope of garner an answer.
"Do not touch me Roran" Eragon muttered, the boy's hand a hair breadths away from the Rider's shoulder.
Roran's eyes widened at his relative's reaction, "what the hell did those Elves do to you Eragon?" he questioned quietly, half out of worry, half out of sheer curiosity.
Again only silence rained over the two.
"We cannot sneak through the camp" Eragon finally said, breaking the oppressive quiet that had built up, the Rider then sat up from the small earthen hill and looked over to Roran, "the guards will notice my Elven features and my cloak will aid me little if they wish to see my face, even if we went at night the patrols look to be too numerous for us to avoid".
"So how will we get to Katrina?" Roran asked tentatively, his concern for his wife-to be overriding all else.
A thin smile emerged on Eragon's face at his Cousin's question, "though you may not know it, the Ra'zac make use of a mount, one which can fly. There size is near that of a dragon so they cannot simply fly over Helgrind without fear of attracting too much attention, this site is a place of worship for a nearby cult and if they were to spot the Ra'zac word would soon spread. They must have a hidden entrance, if we can find it then we can sneak into their lair without alerting any of the guards and possibly take the Ra'zac by surprise".
"Will they not have something that blocks our path?" Roran said, pointing out something that Eragon had also thought about.
"Perhaps, but I can do nothing about that until we encounter it" Eragon replied before he rose from the sodden grass, he then offered a hand to his Cousin, who took it gratefully, his own legs feeling stiff and wet from the long stretch of time they had been lying on the ground. Together the two walked down the hill, a pair of deep blue eyes watching them as they came closer. Slowly the owner of the ocean coloured eyes unwound herself from her curled position, a spiked tail zipping about in anticipation.
"We will be finding your nest mate's partner?" Saphira queried as she watched her Rider with unblinking eyes.
"Soon, tomorrow would be better, Roran looks exhausted" Eragon told the sapphire dragon as he moved away from the small earthen incline and towards a small campfire, dry wood keeping the flames from producing too much smoke.
"You do not look any better Eragon" Saphira pointed out as her head drifted next to her Rider, the young man now sitting next to the comforting fire, "you have not slept sinc-"
"I wanted to find Katrina, when she and Roran are safe then I shall sleep" the Rider told the Dragoness abruptly.
A grey plume of smoke slithered out of Saphira's snout before it seeped into the campfire, "why do you refuse to talk to me Little One? You worry of a shame that I would hold over you, but none rests in my heart, yet-"
'Saphira' Eragon interrupted, his voice plain and emotionless, Please stop". However the Rider did not gain what he sought.
The wet ground that Eragon sat upon began to quake as the blue Dragoness started to growl in anger.
"No I will not allow you to wallow over your origins! You place too much value in this man who you think is your Sire, you think that people will judge you even though you never had a choice in who your father would be!" Saphira roared, her words echoing throughout Eragon's mind and shaking it to its core, "you are not Morzan Eragon, you would never be the killer that he was!"
"Are you sure about that, little Drake?" a deep sultry voice questioned from within Eragon's mind, "have you forgotten what our precious little Rider did on the Burning plains?"
"Be silent Spirit, your opinion has not been asked for" Saphira growled at Dazura's intrusion.
"Ha!' Oh little Dragon your denial only proves my point" Dazura taunted, her voice feeling like fire in Eragon's mind, "can you not accept that our Eragon is a murderer? Or is it simply because you fear he enjoys killing more than you?" The heartless Spirit continued her cackling, earning her the ire of both the Dragoness and the Rider whose mind she resided in.
"Dazura cease your useless prattling" Eragon told the Spirit, his mind lashing out against Dazura's. Soon the Spirit's voice faded away, though that did not stop Eragon from sighing in frustration and anger. This had not been the first time Dazura had tried to draw Saphira's anger, an act that was easy for Shade to do considering what she knew and where she resided. The only relief that Eragon gained was the simple ease it was to quiet Dazura, he could gain no answer for why he could, but the ability to do such satisfied the Rider for the moment.
"She's wrong Eragon" Saphira muttered to her Rider as he rubbed his eyes, fatigue had long since filled his limbs and now only willpower was sustaining him.
"Hmm" Eragon hummed neither acknowledging nor denying what his partner was saying, in fact his focus was on the cracking fire infront of him, anything would be good enough to distract the drained Rider.
"Come on Eragon there must be something that you are willing to tell me" Roran said, exasperation present in his voice. For the past hour Roran had been, unsuccessfully, trying to divulge some information about what his Cousin had done over the past nine months.
Eragon for his part did not appreciate what Roran was doing, there were but a few pleasant things that had happened to him since he had left Carvahall, and even then they felt like they held multiple strings attached to them. Magic? Eragon had been forced to learn the consequences of using such a gift, and a living example of the Rider's ineptitude was Elva. Even now Eragon could not think of an acceptable answer to the child's curse.
"How about a woman, surely you have found one that catches your eye?" Roran inquired, the older man leaning forward as though Eragon would suddenly spill his guts.
Flashes of curly brown hair, faint soft humming and a short plump woman crossed Eragon's mind, yet he shook his head, she wouldn't approve of him… not anymore… not after the acts he had committed.
"No Roran, there is no one" Eragon muttered as he sat with his back against Saphira's neck, the Dragon's warmth providing the Rider with a small comfort.
"Bah! Nonsense you're a Dragon Rider Eragon, they must be flocking at your every side" Roran retorted flippantly, "I'd imagine you've been beating them away".
A small frown emerged on Eragon's face at his Cousin's crude language, "no Roran I am not lying to you, and there has simply been no time for companionship or womanizing".
"Not for human women maybe, but what about the Elves, hell you even look like one. Surely there is someone you've taken a fancy to" Roran pressed. The young Rider rubbed his face in exacerbation, his Cousin hadn't ceased his stubborn tendency that was obvious.
"I am close with an Elf" Eragon admitted, if only to satisfy Roran's thirst for information, "but we are only friends, and do not get any lewd images or ideas in that rock of a head you own, it could never be".
A twisted grin appeared on Roran's grizzled face, "ah! I knew you were hiding something there Cousin, you cannot fool me! Tell me what is she like? Does she bring heat to your cheeks when you see her? Has she shown any signs of interest?"
"If having an obsession with touching and holding you, then that answer is yes", Dazura whispered devilishly, her voice floating through Eragon's mind and sending shivers through the Rider's spin. Yet Eragon did not offer the Spirit any retort.
"Roran we are only friends" Eragon insisted vehemently, "and as I have just told you, it could not work".
"Why? Does she already have another?" Roran barked, his words digging for a route around Eragon's excuse.
"It is complicated" the Rider answered reluctantly, "I… I swore an oath to her, she can command me to do anything that she wishes, I am her vassal, yet it is different. Honour does not bind me to her, but magic does. Within this magic there seems to be unforeseen side effects that neither of us would have known".
"Oh" Roran muttered, his demeanour shifting, "I did not mean to offend Eragon, but now I would like to know if she had treated you well. This power you have given her, she has not misused it?"
Again Eragon was hesitant to answer, Arya had never purposefully abused her control of the Rider, yet she had crossed lines, pushed Eragon into allowing her certain privileges. Even now Eragon winced at the memory of her cold hand slamming against his face, or when she stole small touches that would leave the Rider shivering. Though was this truly Arya, or the effects of this bond that had been forged through ancient magic?
"No" Eragon breathed, "she has been good to me Roran, her aid is probably the only reason why I am still alive". In his mind the Rider was convinced that Arya had no ill intentions, and her past misgivings were just that, in the past, even if she was still struggling with her own mind.
"If you say so Eragon" Roran responded, though his voice sounded unconvinced.
"I do" Eragon reinforced, "but tell me, how have you fared? I see you now wield a hammer and that you can command your people well". However, only after the Rider had spoken did he realise what he had truly said.
"My people, don't you mean our?" Roran questioned critically.
"Of course, I misspoke" Eragon said quickly, trying to hide his slip up. Saphira let loose an annoyed sigh, sending ripples through her Rider.
"There is no shame in feeling no bond of kinship with the people of Carvahall Little One, they never made any attempts to make you feel welcomed" Saphira told Eragon.
"I know, still Roran is my Cousin and he did try, should I not find solace in that?" the Rider questioned.
"I would hope so considering we are here to save someone he cares dearly for, and yet you can hardly remember" Saphira retorted before she changed her tone to a more passive one, '"et some rest Little One, the hour is late, and your Cousin requires more sleep than you do".
Begrudgingly Eragon accepted Saphira's advice and moved to dampen the fire, his palm glowing warmly as he whispered words of the Ancient language, the fire dying down at the Rider's words. Roran looked at his Cousin with intrigue, still fascinated by the mysterious skills his relative had gained. However, words were not needed to describe why Eragon had done what he had as Roran had already moved away from the fire to his sleeping bag, a plan leather pocket with a small amount of dead fur to keep him warm through the cold night.
"Sleep well Roran" Eragon said to his oldest friend as his eyes closed, "we will find her, I promise".
At his words the older man smiled contently before he seamlessly fell to slumber.
"My words of wisdom were not just for your Cousin, come" Saphira beckoned, her large leathery wing spreading out and offering a place of dry warmth for the tired Rider to rest.
"Will I able to sleep tonight?" Eragon asked, hesitation and fear colouring his words, a weakness he would only show to Saphira.
Dark blue eyes snaked over to the worried Rider, their contents knowing and peaceful, "I will guard your mind Little One, even from yourself".
Even though Saphira's words were not spoken in the Ancient language Eragon still trusted his partner unconditionally. Clambering to his feet the Rider stumbled over to the Dragon's side, his head falling gently onto her warm underbelly, her wing sealing him away from the rest of the world. Even though Eragon had no covers or blankets he had no need for them, Saphira produced all the warmth he needed. Cautiously, yet in the cooling and calm embrace of Saphira's mind, Eragon allowed his fatigue to overtake his body and to once more drift along the unconscious ocean.
"WHY DID YOU KILL ME?!"
Eragon flung himself upwards, his breathing frantic and his face full of sweat and tears. With shaking hands he gripped his head in hopes that it would soothe the dead voices that swirled about it. He had been foolish enough to believe that he would gain a full nights rest, he hadn't been able to sleep since the battle at the Burning Plains. Each time he had attempted to the faces of those he had killed were shown in his dreams, their question always the same.
"Why did you kill me?"
Even now the Rider shook his head, there was no reason, at least not one good enough to explain his actions. He had killed, burned and slaughtered his way through hordes of Imperial soldiers, so who were the same age as him. There was no reason, only a craving, a desire to do so. Worst still such a feeling had not left his being, it had only been suppressed, beneath layers of restraint lay this cold fury, it had been unleashed and it would no longer be ignored.
Such dark thoughts hung heavy in Eragon's mind, and the heat that Saphira exuded did little to aid matters. Whether through luck or sheer coincidence, Eragon was able to pry enough of the blue Dragon's wing off the ground and roll under it and into the cool night, shining stars providing light for the troubled Rider. Again Eragon ventured up the small earthen hill he and Roran had perched on earlier.
"Can't sleep?" a familiar voice said within Eragon's mind.
"No" Eragon replied bitterly.
"Ehh, you should really stop pitying yourself Eragon darling, it does nothing for you" Dazura told him as he looked up at the black sky, the twinkling dance of the stars providing little comfort or distraction.
"I do not seek pity, least of all from you Spirit" Eragon muttered, venom dosing his words.
"Good, wasn't going to give it" Dazura jabbed, her blunt response expected by the Rider, "look Eragon, just accept that this is who you are, killing is part of who you are, your body has already agreed with it".
"Why am I like this Dazura?" Eragon questioned, his voice desperate for a reason, an explanation. If he could understand then maybe there would be a way to halt this feeling.
"Your father was Morzan wasn't it? From what I know he was a killer, a good one. Helped Galbatorix commit genocide on all of the Dragon Riders, you probably got your killer instincts from him" Dazura replied nonchalantly, "or you're just a psychopath who finds joy in severing the soul from its body, but I'm not going to judge sweetheart, it's quite an addiction".
"I'm not insane" Eragon growled defensively, "and even if Morzan was my Father how would I have learned this desire?"
"Oh it's a desire? Well considering how you felt I can't blame you" Dazura teased mercilessly before she paused for a moment, when she next spoke her voice was more restrained, "Eragon, I think you just need to understand why your mind does this to you, it's not me, I would take pride if it was, but don't you find it odd that killing numbs you, how it stops all of this anxiety that courses through you, how it removes all your doubts and all your worries?"
"I suppose" Eragon admitted reluctantly, he didn't want to be associated with such vile emotions but his infamous curiosity was rearing its head once more, "why, are you trying to reason that I feel this way as an outlet?"
"Would it be so crazy? You're broken Eragon, the way your mind works is fractured, you are a mess. Maybe this numbness you feel from killing is your mind's own twisted little way of fixing what is wrong with you" Dazura reasoned, though stating that the Spirit could reason worried Eragon in it of itself, "the only reason it doesn't work is because of you silly sense of morality".
"You're mad Dazura" the Rider told the Spirit who chuckled, his morals were right and he would not change them and Dazura's explanation was just as crazy as the Spirit itself.
"Oh Eragon, you do know how to talk to a lady" the Spirit teased.
Eragon smiled dryly, "you are no lady Dazura" he said, his words serious yet he knew she would not take them as such.
The Spirit let loose a loud and very fake gasp, "oh did you just… how very rude of you Eragon!" she cried out, making Eragon's thin smile grow, if just by a fraction.
"There is one thing that I do not understand about you Dazura" Eragon then asked after a short pause to allow the Spirit to calm herself, "even though the word kind could never be used to describe you, you are being civil, such behaviour makes me believe you will try and trick me again. Why are you acting this way?"
"Oh I wish I could deceive you, I would give anything to take over your nice little body and go into Helgrind and slaughter its inhabitants, yet alas I cannot do such" Dazura replied, sadness and regret tainting her words.
"Why?" Eragon asked, even though he had been exposed to Dazura's insanity multiple times now, it still through the Rider off. It wasn't natural.
"Somethings are left better unsaid Sweetheart" Dazura told him, her tone short and snappy, it was obvious he had struck a sensitive spot, "but I think that's enough for one night don't you think? I know I need to rest". With that the Spirit withdrew from Eragon's conscious mind and retreated inwards to the deep recesses of the Rider's mind.
The Rider released a pent up sigh of frustration. Even though it had only been a few short days since his contact with the maddening Spirit had continued he was confused, Dazura was different. Her eagerness to sow torment and chaos had been tempered, not to say it had vanished, just that she was less bloodthirsty. Yet whenever Eragon questioned her about the subject she was would recoil from the question like a cat from water, had the changes caused to his body by the Dragons at the Blood oath celebration made some impact upon Dazura?
Eragon knew he would gain no answers from mere pondering, folding his arms over his legs the Rider looked down at his Cousin and Saphira. A small cloud of relief formed in the Rider's mind, he was glad to be here with family, even though he had fled from the Varden Eragon felt little regret or guilt, part of him knew that he would have fallen into a fit of misery and depression had he stayed.
Glancing over to Saphira's saddle bags Eragon allowed his thoughts to stray over to his blade, or the lack of one. Zar'roc had been gifted to him from Brom, the fallen ex-Dragon Rider. For so long the young Rider had been blessed with the peerless weapon. He did not feel naked, no for months in Ellesméra he had walked freely without the crimson blade, but he was not in the Elven sanctuary anymore. Of course he had his knowledge of magic and the blessings given to him by the Spiritual dragon, but he was a Dragon Rider, a warrior trained in combat with blades forged from meteorite steel.
Rubbing his eyes Eragon shook his head, this was no longer the glory days of the Riders besides, even if he still held onto Zar'roc his newfound reluctance towards violence would have only hindered his approach to fighting. True he still had the bow created by the Elven Queen Islanzadi, a weapon that had served him faithfully, but it was not the same.
In the end Eragon pushed the thought aside, after he had rescued Katrina from the Ra'zac he would not be worrying about such crude necessities. He still planned to depart from the war raging in Alagaesia with Saphira, his body and mind were too shattered, too weary from the life he had lived. What Eragon desired was peace, and he would find it on such a divided continent.
A/N:
DID SOMEONE SAY EARLY CHRISTMAS PRESENT?!
no... ok then...
I'm going to keep this brief, there's another chapter coming out soon, tomorrow? It's already written, just a few checks is all.
Bye