Prologue:
Bliss of Defeat
The wind was blowing slightly outside, causing the curtains in the room to rustle a little. The sun was already high in the sky, filling the land with its beautiful golden glow. The office itself was a little cluttered, but everything had its place; it was the room of a great teacher after all. The desk was covered in scrolls, all stained with ink. Among the scrolls lay one book with a rather princely appearance, Domia abr Wyrda. There were several other tomes on the shelves lining the walls, none as spectacular as the one on the desk.
A single mirror was sitting on the desk, a mirror with a different purpose than allowing you to stare at your reflection, but for something else entirely: it was used to talk to others many leagues away. The distance didn't matter to the users; it always used the same amount of energy from wherever they were. The mirror was being used for this purpose now.
"Eragon, how can you be contented to stay away from all you love?" Nasuada asked as she always does.
"Not all I love, and it's because I have to," Eragon replied wearily.
"Forgive me if I do not understand your reasoning. You, as a Rider are supposed to keep the peace right? That is hard for you to do if you're not in Alagaësia and refuse to come back. How do you expect yourself to do your job? It is not peaceful here. The elves and dwarves fight incessantly over religion. Surda is growing more and more discontented with their land and space. Not to mention, there are still former members of Galbatorix's Black Hand on the run!" she again presented the same argument she always does, perhaps in hopes that he might finally get what she is saying, though he already hears her.
"Nasuada, it has only been five years; what did you expect to happen? Did you think everybody was going to get along over night? I know it is hard, but even if I did live in Alagaësia, they would still be fighting. The job of a man who keeps the peace will never end. I know that, but do you? You are the High Queen of Alagaësia, it is also your job to attempt to keep the peace," he replied calmly. He knew it could come over as harsh, but it had to be said. Nasuada would never be content with his absence, but at least this had the possibility of quieting her for a small amount of time.
It, of course, did its job; Nasuada was speechless for a seemingly long amount of time. Eragon was fine with the silence though. Nasuada was his friend, and he regretted that they would get into an argument almost every time they spoke to each other. He relished the silence now because at least it meant they weren't fighting.
He looked at her through the mirror they talked with. She seemed more stressed than usual, and her quarters seemed to be in shambles. He was worried for her, but he knew she would deny anything was wrong if he asked.
The silence began to grow uncomfortable, so he decided to prompt another discussion, or bring an end to the conversation. "Nasuada, I have two young rides to train in almost an hour. I do as much as I can to make them get to training on time, so I would not be setting a good example if I were late. Do you have anything else you would like to talk about?"
"As I do every year, I wanted to extend an invitation to you to come to the games. They are your idea, and it would be a shame if you never get to see them." She answered with a renewed vigor.
"Nasuada, you know I am keen on the games, but you also know that I cannot go. I know you and all the others hope I can go, but the truth is, I cannot. So why then, do you keep asking me when the answer never changes?"
"I ask because I always hope the answer changes. The people want you here, and you are always welcome. That is want I wanted to tell you."
This time it was Eragon's turn to stop and be silent, but he replied anyways, "You know I cannot."
"No, I do not know that, nor am I keen on that idea. The people need you Eragon. Roran needs you now! Will you do nothing to help him?"
"What do you mean Roran needs me now?! Is there something wrong with him?" He asked with fear, anger and stress tainting his voice. He was no longer calm.
"I thought you knew," was all she said, now avoiding his glare. "I thought he would have told you."
"Told me what? Nasuada, what is going on? Neither Roran nor Katrina will answer me when I try to contact them. I haven't been able to talk to them in a month, and now you tell me that there is something wrong! What is it?" this time his words were filled with sadness and confusion.
"I told you the Black Hand was still around. One of the old members poisoned him, and he has fallen very ill. Angela has been with him and has prevented the poison from doing anything more, but she is unsure how long she can hold off death. We don't know if that was the first of many attacks or if it was a trap, but we don't know how to heal him. I haven't been able to talk to Arya because of the wards around Du Weldenvarden, so you are the first I have been able to talk to about it that could do anything about it."
The atmosphere itself seemed to have grown darker as Eragon thought about her words. "I don't know what to say to this or how to react. What should I do? What can I do?"
"You already know what I think you should do. I know you are a changed man, but if you turn your back on your cousin, then you have changed more than I thought was possible," her tone growing darker, and her expression seemed to be testing him.
Eragon couldn't believe she would ever think he would do that. He was not capable of such an evil. "You know that would never happen. I will not let anything happen to him. I will find a way to make him well again, and if that means… I will do whatever it takes," he said, his mind made up. He wasn't sure what he would Nar Krytûl and Terric, his riders in training, were not ready for anything quite like this. They have been trained for a time of peace, not of war.
"I am late for my lesson, so I must go now. I am sorry to leave like this, but I will stay in touch," he told her, still shaken by the news. She nodded and was gone. He stared at his own reflection, contemplating his options. Saphira, what should I do? I cannot go back, but I cannot let him die. Even now everything is so complicated! As his statement turned into a mental shout, bitter note crept into his thoughts.
You are a changed man, Eragon. Perhaps that should be enough for the two-legs.
Yes, but… Saphira you're right. I am a changed man!
So are we going?
I will say nothing more than we have a chance of going. There is still the matter of two young dragons, an urgal, a dwarf and a handful of elves to take care of. If we were to go, what would we do with them? This is not exactly the best combination to leave.
No it is not, but they have all grown closer. We would not be leaving them for a long time, or you could use the situation to would be an interesting class to have Terric with Opheila and have Nar Krytûl with Hírador all at once. That is all I need to hear, little idea makes my scales itch with anticipation.