I do not own any of the characters found in the Inheritance Cycle. The poem however does belong to me. This is my first fanfiction. While I embrace constructive criticism, please keep your language clean and courteous. Enjoy!
Eragon paced around his room frustrated by his lack of words. Eight months! For eight months he had been trying to create something for his second Blood-oath Celebration, and his deadline was drawing closer.
"Little one, what is wrong," Saphira's groggy voice entered his mind. Although it was late at night, she had felt his distress.
"I do not think I will be able to complete my poem in time for Kaira, to take to the elves."
"Perhaps little one, rest will be able to help you sort out your thoughts, you still have some time before Kaira leaves for the celebration. I also know that it is not just the poem causing you stress," Saphira said knowingly.
"You are right as usual, I wish a could join her. I have missed Du Weldenvarden and my friends there," Eragon sighed then continued, "It has been a long time since I have flown with you over those forests, indeed I am beginning to believe the prophecy is right, I shall never return."
Saphira felt his frustration. Every time they made plans to return some emergency would happen and they would not be able to return.
"Eragon, I know you wish to return but we have the new hatchlings to look after."
"I know Saphira." Eragon responded.
It was silent for a few moments before Eragon spoke again, "I think I shall try for some rest"
Saphira left him to his thoughts and returned to her sleep. Eragon laid down on his bed and soon he was in the dream state. For some reason, perhaps the stress, he dreamed of the night Galbatorix was defeated, of the terrors leading up to it, of the despair, and of the hope that he refused to let go of.
Eragon woke with a start; quickly he moved from his bed into his library, he wanted to put down what he was feeling into words. He sat at his desk furiously writing until dawn's sunlit streaks filled the room and at last his work was finished. Saphira peered over his shoulder and together they read.
Pain.
Fear.
Hopelessness.
Three words that belong together.
A twisted face-swirls in my eyes…
Pain etched into every angelically placed feature.
Pain in every-tear-drop-cried.
Pain. Not for me.
Usually inspiring what would the world be without hope?
Hopelessness…no comfort…no solace…no peace.
Hopelessness of never knowing rest.
Hopelessness of never knowing love.
A dark chilly alley found in my mind.
Fear that is caused by Pain, that preys on Hope.
Three things that belong together,
That work together under Despair.
Despair that is all consuming,
Despair that rages like a fire,
Despair that has only one antidote.
Love.
Some say you could pull out of the clutches of Despair by Faith.
But Love is Faith and Faith is Hope,
All driven by the things that could be, by the thing that are.
It was silent for a long time. The only sounds heard were of those of birds singing and people awakening.
"Little one, it seems as though poetry is a skill you have mastered. The elves should consider themselves lucky to have this as a gift. For I know, and they shall know that it is a sampling of your soul"
Eragon smiled at her praise when a knock sounded at the door. He walked over and opened it to find Kaira standing there. Her elfin body was tall and slim and contained within it the grace of her race. Piecing blue eyes shocked any who gazed into their depths for her skin and hair were very dark.
"Master, I have come to collect your offering for the celebration. Saphira's I have already."
"Yes of course," Eragon replied walking to collect the poem. He handed it to her and then continued, "Please send the elves my greetings and regrets that I cannot be there."
"As you wish it. I should be off for the journey is long."
"Safe travels," Eragon responded as he watched Kaira leave. She was one of his best riders and doubted there would be any trouble for her, indeed she was one of the first he had trained and he though of her as the daughter he could never have. While her journey should be uneventful in regards to danger, He on the other hand, had hatchlings to take care of, they were in a class of trouble and danger all of their own.
Even so, Eragon walked back towards Saphira with a spring in his step, feeling better than he had in days.
