Long ago, a tale untold
Of creatures long been but thought a dream.
Magic they wrought with but a thought,
And their destruction was keen.
It was their time to enter the void,
For new creatures of the world emerged.
Elves, dragons and dwarves came to be.
One last spell for when all is lost,
In the Chamber of Souls salvation could be wrought.
A price you'll pay of the steepest cost,
For what could be worth more than your life?
Chapter one
Eragon stood with his back to the room, knowing all eyes rested on his shoulders. There was a time not so long ago that I had immunity from all eyes. He squelched that thought abruptly and squared his shoulders. Turning around, he inspected the room through veiled eyes. Nasuada, Angela, Arya and several others all bore holes into him, though none of their stares was as heavily felt as Elva's. The slight build of the child seemed to fill the space in the tent, her lavender eyes narrowed and lips pinched. She was usually pale, but at the moment she seemed a ghost, her skin was almost grey.
Think quickly Eragon, I don't believe you'll have much longer. Saphira's voice echoed in his mind. Yes, I know. Eragon bent down in front of Elva, his hand snaking out to touch her cheek. It startled him to feel the heat radiating off of her being. Like a spark catching flame a sudden solution jumped to his mind.
"There can be no words to express the regret I feel for what I have done to you, Elva, and as I promised I will rescind my blessing, or curse as it may be. However, I can not recall it entirely, once something is spoken in the ancient language, it will be binding." All around the room anger darkened the faces of those present; only Arya's countenance remained impassive. Elva snatched her face from Eragon's hand, a cynical expression drawing her lips thin in a haughty line. Before she or anyone else could voice the thoughts circulating in their minds and by his open link, his mind, Eragon raised a finger. "But, there is hope." Elva, suspicion darting acrossed her features eyed him warily. Her dark purple eyes shone with exhaustion and worlds of knowledge belied by her size and features.
"Since I failed you so miserably the first time I would have you tell me what you think of the counter blessing I would place on you. It is after-all you that has to live each day in that body." Waiting for Elva's hesitant nod, he also nodded. This has to work. Eragon pleaded with himself.
It will. I share your knowledge and I know it will work, she will never be like any other child, but she at least will have a choice in her future now. Silently thanking Saphira, Eragon preceded. "You feel pain when you don't act on your impulses to help someone; you are constantly bombarded with the feelings of others, their thoughts and innermost fears. What if I gave you a way to choose what you hear? If I could give you a choice on when to use your ability, and when to act on it? I can't remove it completely, but I can give you the same free will over whom and when you use your abilities as any magic user. Would that be acceptable to you, Elva?" Light and hope sparkled in the small girl's eyes; a vigorous nod was all she could produce as words failed her. The anger seen on the faces of those in the room softened to awe, wonder and hope. Only Arya looked apprehensive. Striding toward Eragon, she snatched his arm and dragged him to eye level.
"Do not make promises you can not keep Eragon! I can't fathom what kind of energy this would take, and I've never heard of someone adding that kind of control to a wayward spell before." Her green eyes flashed in anger and fear. It was the second of the two that startled Eragon. Saphira's head popped into the tent, her growl a low rumble that left everyone's chest feeling like it would never cease its thrumming. Have you ever heard of a marking like the one on Elva? Or even a blessing like the one done in the first place? Or how about a sprit of passed dragons healing an injury and finishing a transformation that should have taken decades? What exactly is normal about the things Eragon and I have done or seen? Saphira's voice was like a mental blow, her thoughts a razor lash on the consciousness of those in the tent. Eragon stared back at Arya, never flinching nor breaking eye contact. A war took place in the emerald pools of Arya's eyes, finally they steeled over like a pond freezing in winter. Sensing she had come to a decision Eragon mutely awaited her conclusion. Worry bunched her dark eye brows together, and a frown pulled her fair lips.
"As you say, Saphira, nothing you have done has been so done before, so it is with great reluctance that I design to stand aside and let this play out, but remember that all of Alagaësia's fate rest on your shoulders, and for all our sakes and Elva's I hope you are right in this matter." Releasing Eragon's arm, Arya turned and walked past Saphira into the darkness of the night. A deep desolation filled Eragon as he watched her go, even if she was lecturing him, her hand an iron clasp on his triceps, he missed her touch. For several minutes he watched the tent flap in hopes she would return, but knowing she would not.
A small tug on his tunic brought him back to matters at hand. Elva stared at him, her eyes dark with sympathy. "Any life is better than none, and at the moment, I lead a life of solitude and servitude. I don't have a life of my own, but that which you forced me into. Do as you will, Rider. I would rather pass into the void trying to succeed, than be a ghost in the world." The solemn voice was the catalyst to break the inward reflections of all those in the room. Nodding, Eragon summoned his strength and focused his energies.
Muttering the chosen words, he fed off Saphira's strength and watched as a bright blue light filled the tent and darted into Elva's body, lifting the child several feet off the floor. Her head tilted back and her gedwey ignasia-like mark flared to a bright white colors dancing in her normally violet eyes. Just as suddenly, the room returned to the previous lighting, seeming unnervingly dark compared to the brilliance of a few moments before. All eyes rested on the slumped figure of Elva where she laid on the floor. Eragon was the first to move; he swayed with the sudden exhaustion of the exercise and dropped to his knees. Steadying himself with one arm on the floor he reached for Elva with the other. She was chilled to the touch. Her normally fiery skin was cool, if not a little clammy causing concern in Eragon to rise. Perhaps we went too far! Fear gripped his heart and made it hammer in his chest. "Elva? Elva!" The force of his shout was such that it resounded in the minds of the tent's occupants.
"What have you done?" Nasuada raced to the small form, gathering her body close to her own. Glaring at Eragon, he could feel her contempt. A delicate white hand snaked up to Nasuada's face, touching her cheek. Eragon felt his heart soar in exuberance. She's alive! Elation came through Saphira's link to him like tidal waves crashing against his thoughts.
Pulling away from the child, Nasuada asked gently, "How do you feel?" Large violet eyes peered back at her, switching from Nasuada to Eragon. Drawing a shaky breath, Elva pulled herself from Nasuada's grasp and slowly stood up. After the initial shaking subsided, she wiggled her fingers and extremities for a moment, before standing perfectly still and closing her eyes. A grimace crossed her features and her mouth set in a firm line. Opening her eyes she fixed a doleful expression on Eragon.
"I feel,…like I'm in control of myself for the first time in my life!" Her eyes twinkled in joy and radiated warmth. A smile curved her lips and she barked a laugh to the silent room. "I'm free!"