Cold Heart
North.
The winds buffeted him as well as his partner. It stung like blades of ice even as he muttered words in the ancient language to protect them.
North.
Over the rich green forests of Ellesmera, the trees grew paler as they went. The sky turned from its blue to a listless gray. The heavens looked as though they no longer cared.
North.
He left behind all that he knew. His past and his father. Galbatorix and the Forsworn. Alagaesia. Nasuada. Murtagh left all but Thorn behind. In the surreal journey across a dispassionate sky, even the name of names began to slip away. He had no use for it, let it go.
There was an uncharacteristic silence between dragon and rider. For days they flew, landing only to eat and sleep. They'd gone beyond the chartered borders of the land and I to the unknown. Across snowy plains and icy lakes they traveled, until a ridge of frozen mountains appeared upon the horizon.
There is where we can achieve solitude. Murtagh thought to Rhorn, breaking the many days of silence.
We shall always be together, you and I. I doubt solitude is the correct term. Murtagh gave a grim chuckle. How long had it been since he'd last found humor in anything? They would camp at the base and then travel to the other side the next day. Then the two would start anew. As they approached the string of mountains, it was proved that the barrier would not be a small one, however having seen the Beors, it was nothing.
With this we may finally get some peace.
You know when you say things like that, the opposite tends to happen. Thorn snorted. It was not that he disagreed with his rider, but he always had a sense for strange happenstance.
"Brisngr." Murtagh muttered. It took a surprising amount of energy to light a simple fire. The eldunari had aided him for so long he'd fallen complacent in his skills. He would need to begin to practice again, his magical might had atrophied with the crutch of dragon hearts. Thorn was out hunting for them both, there was little to be done at camp. His mind frittered back to Nasuada, he wondered what happened to her in the time that had transpired. It would be either her or Orrin that took the crown from Uru'baen, of the two she would definitely have more support. What would the kingdom be like under her rule, would the world really be changed? No, not the world. The world was too large and Alagaesia too small for anything like that to occur. Still Murtagh couldn't keep his thoughts off of her.
When we departed from Uru'baen I thought you left your brooding thoughts behind. I suppose that's one part of your true name that will never change. Thorn announced bringing back a deer between his teeth and a stag between his claws. He dropped the bloodied stag at Murtagh's feet with a loud thump, blood spattering across the blank snow.
Prepare it on your own. That should keep you occupied, if only temporarily. With Zar'roc's enchanted edge, butchering the creature took next to no effort at all. Still Thorn was correct, the precision needed so he didn't spill the guts everywhere kept him from reminiscing. He surprised himself by eating half the stag before feeling full.
You have the appetite worthy of a dragon tonight, my rider. Perhaps a rather small dragon, but nonetheless.
I hadn't realized I was so hungry. Murtagh looked down at the devoured corpse. Thorn shamelessly devoured the rest in a single gulp.
It's all that brooding you do. It fills you to the edge of your consciousness. Makes you forget things. You haven't eaten since the day prior to yesterday if I recall correctly.
Really? That long?
To be fair, I have been the one flying us.
True.
Now let us rest. We, or rather I, have an arduous flight on the morrow.
There had been a light snowfall overnight that persisted into the morning. Murtagh discovered this when Thorn stretched his wings, letting an avalanche of snow engulf his rider.
Oops. It was always strange to feel sarcasm in your mind, especially so blatantly.
"Vaetna." The snow dispersed itself. Easy enough magic to preform considering how light he object in question was.
Cast your warming spells and let us be off. Murtagh muttered the necessary spells and was about to recast his own wards when he realized there was no reason. There were no more fights with the Varden or Galbatorix. There were none that bore animosity in the frozen lands. So he saddled Thorn and the pair was off.
The ascent went slowly, the snow gradually came down more and more. The white teeth of the earth extended far into the sky the wind also did little to aid them. Thorn had trouble rising quickly enough, several times his claws grazed against the mountain's snowy skin. The snow made it hard to see, but Murtagh noticed a small field of boulders. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but it appeared as though one moved. Murtagh reached out with his mind to confirm his suspicions.
I have a bad feeling about this. Thorn redoubled his efforts in case his rider was correct. Murtagh tentatively reached out with a tendril of thought.
As soon as his mind brushed against the 'boulder's' it sprang from the snow with its fellows. It seemed similar to a dragon, but with a varying number of limbs and appendages. The smallest was the size of his torso, it had but two legs and a pair of wings. Quickly it darted through the storm, it would have quickly caught up to them if not for the gusts of wind sending small puny body reeling backwards. The majority of the beasts were half the size of Thorn, with four wings and six legs, although the some only had four legs. The leader of the pack however was an even more vicious looking creature. He would have rather fought the lumbering Shruikan. The size of Thorn, it had eight legs, four wings and two tails. However its strangest feature was its twin pairs of eyes that were dead focused on its prey.
Murtagh clutched Thorn's spines, feeding him his own energy as his dragon turned and barrel rolled blindly in the snow. Their white hide nigh invisible, the only hint of their location was their omnipresent screeching and the occasional white light that poured forth from their maw.
Thorn, I cannot fend off their minds. They are strange beings, not unlike the Raz'ac.
I doubt we would have a chance against so many. So long as you shield me from their strange breath, I feel we can make it.
The battle on the mountain was a difficult one, however as dragon and rider ascended, the smaller creatures dropped back down lacking the stamina to continue. As the horde dwindled into a swarm, Murtagh cast spells at the largest of them. Chanting the words of death he severed the insides of the creature. The beast faltered momentarily, but quickly recovered. Ground was gained, but the exercise drained a substantial amount of energy. It wasn't worth attempting a second time.
"Veoht!" Murtagh shouted, slowing the breath of one of the smaller creatures. It was a beautiful sight he had not the time to admire, a cloud of shimmering diamond. The spell exhausted him further. He would need to use the ruby in Zar'roc from now on.
The mountains still rose to either side, but straight forward there was a path between the peaks. Between diverting the mysterious breath, giving Thorn his remaining energy was exhausting. His dragon pushed on nearing the pass. As Thorn dove for the opening, eight-legs roared a true roar, not a high pitched screech and opened its mouth. Summoning upon all the energy within Zar'roc, as well as what he could sustain without dying, Murtagh attempted to divert the blow. It was like trying to block the Anora and Murtagh lost consciousness.
A/N: How does it look? I really wanted to try out this style of writing. Code Light is kind of laconic, but I've always wanted to write in purple prose. While this might not be there yet, it does seem to have a lot more detail. As for the concept, who wouldn't want more Murtagh? Anyhow I'm not abandoning Code Light, I just want to diversify my repertoire. Review, fav, etc.
Thanks for reading! 🐢