I don't own Inheritance Cycle or Twilight.
Prologue
Laughter filled a clearing deep in a forest. A huge bonfire was in the middle of a wide group of travelers of various sorts, and a few dragons roared in delight, joining in the entertainment and forays.
One particular dragon and man laughed as they journeyed away from them to gather firewood together. It was dark outside and though the boy had magic the she dragon was rather protective of him.
Eragon was still chuckling as he journeyed deep into the forest with Saphira, and as he stopped to gather some sticks and twigs, then some bigger logs, he heard the gurgling of water. Contentment filled him as he listened.
Suddenly a twig snapped and as he turned around in surprise he heard Murtagh and Thorn coming towards him, a look of contentment on their faces.
It had been a few years since the war and the riders were well on their to being established with wild dragons once again roaming the earth. The riders, minus Arya, Murtagh, and Eragon, numbered twenty eight. That and there were already urgal and dwarf riders.
As Eragon thought of Angela's "prophecy", he saw that she hadn't been entirely right. Either that or she hadn't interpreted it right. Sure, he'd left Alagaesia and never returned to it, but that didn't mean that he hadn't returned to the land because by the time he came back it was no longer called Alagaesia, the inhabitants choosing to give it a different name. They'd wanted to change the name because of everything that had happened. The name of Alagaesia seemed to have a bad connotation now days. So yeah, in a sense he never returned to Alagaesia.
The so called noble romance part had also bothered him. As it turned out, his relationship with Arya hadn't been as long lasting as they liked. Sure they both had feelings for each other now, but their duties got in the way. That, and it became painfully obvious that a romance wasn't going to be possible for them. After all, she was the queen of the elves and he was the leader of the riders.
If he engaged in a relationship with her, then he wouldn't be able to be unbiased towards the four races. And so, painfully, they agreed to end their relationship and try a romance with someone else. Though their friendship remained. Eventually, Eragon was able to get over her, and she him, but there were times when Eragon wondered if he was really over her at all.
Another bothersome part of the so-called prophecy was that Murtagh hadn't really betrayed him. He wasn't responsible for all the actions he'd done. He'd been forced into them.
Speaking of the red rider, after he'd wandered about for about five years he'd come to find Eragon. While he was still haunted about the past he'd finally come to enough terms to be able to cope and was ready to be near his only remaining immediate family, Eragon. Eragon had welcomed him with open arms and was ready to give him responsibility among the riders.
That was harder said than done however. It took a lot to convince everyone that Murtagh wasn't responsible for his actions and was being controlled. It also took a lot to convince them that he'd been brainwashed. it had been a difficult and a trying time for the red dragon and red rider. During that time Murtagh had re-experienced some of what he'd gone through under Galbatorix, and he'd had many nightmares. Fearing they'd never forgive him, he was ready to flee and never come back when Eragon tried a different tactic.
The lead rider had been harsh with the others, pointing out that they'd held no blame to others who'd been forced to swear fealty to Galbatorix, who's true names had been taken, and/or had been brainwashed, and yet they weren't willing to show the same understanding to his brother.
It was at that point that Eragon accused them of being prejudice towards his brother because he was the son of a forsworn and stated that if he hadn't been related to Morzan he wouldn't be experiencing such prejudice now but would be pitied. He also threatened to remove his support, saying that as having experienced such persecution by Galbatorix himself he wasn't willing to stand by and let the new regimes do the same to others.
Needless to say the entire groups present had been shocked by Eragon's forwardness, and the blue rider's political tactics worked. Many vehemently denied, while the rest were unsure and began to take a new perspective in things, considering that perhaps they were holding double standards and were being prejudice towards him. But regardless, it had accomplished what Eragon had wanted it to. By pointing these things out and threatening to withdraw his support he had forced them to consider Murtagh in a new light and for them to submit to his proposal.
"Besides," Eragon had said. "As you are not riders you have no say in what the riders do. We are a separate group and separate entity. You have no right to attempt to control us."
To Eragon the sad part of the whole situation was that everything he had said was true. And it hurt him to see his brother and the red dragon treated in such a matter.
They began giving Murtagh a chance and though many still held grudges against him he was eventually able to convince most that he wasn't going to harm them and that he was loyal to Eragon and the riders. And so, given about three years he didn't have as big a problem as he used to, though some still held onto the grudges.
Then again there would probably always be some sort of resentment or another for many empire loyalists were having trouble readjusting to having lost the war. And many empire loyalists didn't like Murtagh either, perhaps more than there were those of the Varden that hated him.
But Murtagh was coping and finding peace in his new life. He'd even began making friends in all the races. Orik and most dwarves had forgiven him for Hrothgar's death and Arya and the elves were accepting him of being a rider. But Eragon wondered if they did it for his sake only.
Nasuada understood Murtagh, and though their feelings didn't redevelop, which was sad for Murtagh, he was getting used to merely being friends with the woman. Soon it didn't hurt that they couldn't ever have a romantic relationship.
Then again it made sense. She was mortal and he was immortal. If he ever pursued a relationship with her, he'd outlive her anyways and be forced to watch any children they had live and die, as well as their descendants. So in the end it was for the best. He'd been through enough heartbreak. That and he wasn't quite ready for a romantic relationship yet, especially after he was recovering from Galbatorix's brainwashing still.
Eragon was happy that Murtagh was returning to the way he was when he first met him. But it saddened him that he and his dragon still struggled. A part of Eragon wondered if they'd ever recover completely. That, and there was still a lot of evidence that he was affected by the trauma of the past.
There were times when Murtagh was still confused from the brainwashing and he was unsure of what to believe, what Galbatorix told him or what he'd believed before that. And sometimes he got mixed up, stating things that Galbatorix must have told him without realizing that he was spurting the propaganda given to him. The reason Eragon was sure that it was the beliefs that Galbatorix had made him believe was because Murtagh had stated his belief in the opposite when Eragon first met him.
Sometimes Murtagh didn't know what to think and he'd confessed to Eragon that he was sometimes confused as to who he really was and what he really believed. Murtagh had said that he was sometimes confused if he believed a particular thing because it was what he really believed or if it was because it was something that Galbatorix had originally told him or subconsciously made him think.
But these occurrences were becoming rarer. Eragon also kept them to himself because he didn't want others to know that Galbatorix still partially had a hold of Murtagh even though he was dead. He was afraid that it would lead to Murtagh being persecuted and that was the last thing that the red rider needed when he was still recovering.
Another concern for Eragon was Thorn and Murtagh's memory. When Murtagh had come back Eragon had started to notice that Murtagh had a lapse in his memory of past things related to the war. In fact some things Murtagh didn't even remember. Others he didn't remember quite correctly. It led Murtagh to be confused at times when things of the traumatic past were brought up. The same thing happened to Thorn.
When Eragon brought up his concern about it Murtagh was uneasy. Neither had an answer as to why it was happening nor did Murtagh realize that it was happening. Eventually Eragon pushed Murtagh to see an elven healer. Murtagh had been wary at first, but after persistence and practically being pushed to do so, both dragon and human agreed to it if Eragon and Saphira would accompany them. Both agreed.
The elven healer said it was normal in trauma cases. He told them that it was not uncommon when something traumatic happened for the mind to edit the most horrid of them out or to force them to forget large chunks entirely. It was the mind's way of protecting the individual. He even mentioned that sometimes it led to wide scaled amnesia, which fortunately had not happened. Such amnesia cases depended on the person and had no relation to how to traumatic the incident had been. Some merely experienced it while others didn't.
Murtagh and Thorn were relieved that it didn't happen to them, but they still didn't like that parts of their memory were missing. The elf said to expect it and it was a protection to them. That, and if they couldn't remember then they weren't ready to remember. Though that didn't reassure them they were relieved to gain some understanding.
Murtagh pressing against Eragon's mind brought the rider back to the present. 'Mind if I join you?' Murtagh asked in his mind after Eragon lowered his defenses and Eragon nodded.
After gathering the firewood and going back they joined once more in the discussions of the travelers. They were currently on their way to the capital to join in some competitive games, and their company consisted of riders and others they had gathered along the way. Some of them happened to be their friends who inquired of their welfare.
(A day later)
Having to travel on foot was a bore to the dragon riders, but none the less they were happy to have company. True they could made the journey in less than half the time riding their dragons, but then they would miss out on the wonderful stories their friends had to share.
They were currently camped in the forest again and once again it was night. Eragon, needing some privacy, and his dragon out hunting to get away from the other obnoxious younger dragons, some bonded to riders while others were wild, therefore she couldn't keep him company.
"I'm getting firewood," Eragon announced and proceeded to exit immediately. Besides, now that the others were getting the bonfire ready with wood they already had, they wouldn't need him.
Eragon sighed as he looked at his surroundings and took off at a jog to get some distance between him and the camp. His dragon would be gone for a while and he didn't need her currently. Besides, she needed to take care of herself.
When Eragon finally stopped, he was near a stream. Stepping through a thicket of small trees he stopped by the bank of the river and went to get a drink of water. A clearing was on the other side of the river, extending as far as the eye could see.
As he bent down and ran his hand into the stream something in the distance, about four miles out caught his attention. Looking up, he saw a figure in the distance, a human he assumed. He wondered how he hadn't noticed it before. A moment later he gasped and fell back for it was directly in front of him, standing where his feet had been as he'd fallen back.
Eragon's brain was confused. Hadn't it just been in the distance? How could it be here so quickly? He gasped even more as he saw the inhuman beauty that this human being had. She was tall, taller than any woman he'd met, and though the elves were called the fair race her beauty far exceeded any of the elves' beauty. That and her beauty merely seemed unnatural. Her pale skin and curvy features were contrasted by a most beautiful light brown color of slightly wavy hair reaching to her hips. In fact, her beauty seemed like it should belong in a dream instead of real life.
But what frightened Eragon most were the eyes. Deep, dark red eyes bore into him and held him paralyzed in place, observing him. He was caught like a deer in headlights, unable to move. Not even a scream could escape him. He didn't even know why he was frightened, but all he knew was that he was.
But despite his body screaming at him to run, he couldn't, her charisma holding him there even though he knew he was going to die if he stayed. But he simply couldn't leave this beautiful woman alone and at the mercy of the wild. For some reason he had compassion on her even though his body told him not to. But he felt compelled to have pity on her without understanding why.
"What is your name?" her musical voice asked and it was memorizing in a dangerous sort of way, like a venus fly trap. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard and immediately he felt compelled to obey. How could he not disobey such a beautiful being like her? Her beautiful charm made him loose reason.
"Eragon," he answered firmly, not understanding why he was complying, just that he should.
The woman chuckled and a shiver fell down his spine. "Well, Eragon," she stepped closer and fear gripped the boy though he was unable to move away. "How foolish of you to leave the safety of your friends."
Eragon didn't see her lunge at him. He didn't even have time to scream before she had a hand to his mouth and he was dragged away, the world flashing by so fast that his brain couldn't interpret what was happening nor could he interpret his surroundings. He didn't even register that they were moving.
But as fast as it had happened it was over with and he found himself airborne, landing roughly on the ground. Yelping as he crashed to the ground no doubt earning him some bruises, he noticed for a brief moment that he was nowhere near where he was before, probably several miles away. No one would know he was in danger, let alone hear him scream for help if he tried to. They wouldn't even be able to reach him with a couple days worth of traveling at this pace, and that made him wonder how fast this creature really was.
But he had more pressing issues right now. Right now the red eyed human like creature was watching him curiously, and stalking forward slowly so as not to frighten him. And Eragon couldn't help but whimper and draw away from her slightly, feeling his bruises.
"Don't be frightened," she purred and Eragon was frozen in her presence once more, unable to move. But that didn't change the fact that he was frightened. In fact he was terrified of her. She had practically kidnapped him after all.
"Don't be frightened," she reassured him again and now she was in front of him once more, having had arrived in front of him at a slower than human pace. "I just want to talk to you before I kill you. I do need to eat you know. But I am always curious about the lives of my victims before I kill them."
Eragon whimpered an unnatural fear coming over him. He'd never encountered a being before where he didn't even stand a little bit of a chance against. With Galbatorix he could learn magic and learn swordsmanship to defend himself against the man, but he would never have any defense against this woman and others like her. And he realized how defenseless he was. If she said he was going to die then he was going to die and there would be nothing he could do about it. Not even Saphira had the power to save him from this creature should she arrive in time to help him. He was going to die and he knew it.
He curled into a ball, shivering in fear. "Don't be afraid," the woman reassured him and reached out a hand to touch him, almost as if to reassure him. Immediately he froze in fear and the shivering stopped. "There you go," she reassured him with a small smile and another shiver ran down Eragon's spine. "Now," she announced as if she was ready to get back to business. "Where were you born? What was your life like?"
And immediately, being charmed by her demeanor and beauty, Eragon found himself telling her, though he didn't know why. He simply couldn't resist telling her. And she listened attentively like a good listener which surprised him. He also found himself explaining things to her in detail, subconsciously trying to buy time, to delay his death. And for a few minutes he found himself unable to feel his fear, like it was in the back of his mind even though she had promised him death.
When he done the fear was brought to the front of his mind again and he shivered. "What are you going to do with me now?" he nervously asked.
The woman smiled a deadly smile. "Run," she purred, and Eragon was frozen in shock. When she lunged at him, Eragon shielded himself with his arms, leaning back, but was surprised when he didn't feel the impact. In fact she was nowhere to be seen. She was merely trying to frighten him.
But it worked. Eragon got up and ran in terror, calling out to Saphira, wondering why she couldn't hear him.
It didn't take long before something slammed into him and he was thrown into a tree. He crumpled down to the forest floor and stayed there in shock for a minute before getting up and running again.
Once again he was slammed into, but this time he was pinned down, face in the dirt, unable to see, breathe or scream. The woman's lips prickled at his ear as she whispered to him in a soft tone that he could hear, "I hope you don't mind me playing with you before you die. I do it to all my victims. I always play with my food. It makes it entertaining."
Fear gripped Eragon again as he realized he was going to have a slow and terrible death. But then the pressure lessened and he whipped around not seeing her.
He was so terrified that he curled up and began crying, not moving from that spot. That was until she screamed into his ear, "What are you doing? Run!" And with that he found himself thrown across the field again. This time he did run.
It continued like this for some time as he was slowly tortured to death. He'd run only to be pinned down, thrown a distance, or even have a limb broken. But she'd always let him go again. Soon he was limping from all his broken bones and he was in agony. But every time he stopped she'd attack him again and punished him worse for not giving her entertainment. But if he ran or moved she'd let him go for some longer time before she attacked him again.
Finally, he simply couldn't move anymore from pain and exhaustion and he collapsed, unable to stand up. All his ribs were broken and he was crying in agony.
Once again, she was there in the blink of an eye. "Well?" she snarled. "Get up and run!" She threw him again and this time more of Eragon's spine cracked. He screamed out. "Run!" she snarled, there in an instant again, and he was thrown once more. Four more times she did this and he was still unable to get up. She was there in an instant, but this time she didn't do anything, she observed him for a minute and then she sighed. "I guess the end is near then," she said aloud, obviously wanting him to hear. "Guess I get my meal now."
In an instant she was crouched beside him, his arm in her mouth as she sucked his blood out and Eragon was screaming in even more agony, this experience the worst pain he'd ever experienced in life (even the previous injuries from her attacks didn't feel this bad). He was unable to stop himself from convulsing from the pain.
But his struggling did nothing to loosen her iron grip on him. In fact, it didn't seem to affect her at all. To him, it seemed to last for an eternity, and then she pulled away, surprise in her face. Eragon was crying, panting, and still groaning from the pain and he wanted nothing more than for it to end.
"Huh!" she titled her head curiously. "Guess I wasn't as hungry as I thought. It must have been that snack that I had this morning. No matter, you're dead anyways." And with that Eragon screeched as she lunged at him, snapping his neck. Then it was over.
Chapter One: Awakening to New Life
For a while, after having been murdered, Eragon felt nothing. In fact, he was pretty sure he was dead. It stayed this way for what felt like thousands of years but was in reality only a couple of hours. Then things changed as whatever he felt a burning fire hotter than the sun in his heart.
How long it had been there, he didn't know, but it had obviously been slowly saturating his heart for a while, and now that whatever this was had completely soaked his heart, his heart all of a sudden ignited and was on fire, a steady heartbeat thumping in his chest once more, and for the last time.
Fear engulfed him once more as the fire spread. After a few minutes his neck was snapped back and repaired better than before, and slowly the fire traveled through him, healing him, changing him.
He remained this way for some time, the fire only increasing in pain and torturing him further. Eragon could tell that he was thrashing around, screaming his lungs out. He couldn't help it. But he wasn't always aware of his surroundings as the fire consumed his consciousness.
Eragon begged with his mind, hoping someone would hear him. He begged for the fire, the pain, the torture to end. In fact, things were better when he was dead. At least he wasn't feeling pain then. But no one heard him and he was forced to endure the pain.
After what seemed like eternity the fire began fading away. As it burned brighter and harder, the venom causing his heart to beat faster, his heartbeat stopped, and he pain was gone. Now Eragon was confused. He was still alive?
The boy opened his eyes and gasped. The world was new to him in a way he never imagined. Immediately, he felt a strong burning feeling at the back of his throat and his hands flew to his neck, clawing at it desperate for it to stop. It was making it hard for him to think.
Suddenly, a thump, thump was heard in the distance and Eragon had no explanation for why he reacted the way he did. His mind simply wasn't there anymore. He practically flew to the source, his feet gliding across the surface of the forest floor, and he didn't register as he leaped onto a bear and began draining it of blood. In fact, it wasn't until he'd drained several animals and his thirst was quenched that he registered what he had done. And then he was afraid.
Taking in his torn clothes that were stained with blood Eragon whimpered and ran as far away from the animal as possible. Now that he could think he realized what he had done. It was vivid to him and he realized that his mind must have recorded it distinctly even though he wasn't aware of what he did at the time for he was able to recall perfectly how he had stalked all the animals and slaughtered them in his mad thirst. And he was ashamed.
The gurgling of a stream reached his ear. It was several miles away but he cleared the distance in no time, running so that he could clean up himself in the water and look less morbid before he proceeded to wallow himself in pity. But as he reached the stream he froze in fear as he saw his reflection. He looked nothing like Eragon. He didn't even know who the man in the stream was. In fact, he was pretty sure he looked like the woman who had killed him, that is if he had been able to see her crystal clear like he could see everything crystal clear now, and not with his muddy human/elf vision.
The moment he thought it it was done. He leaped away into the tree above him and curled up near the trunk, not even looking at the stream. Whimpering at his sudden predicament, he began crying and was even more distressed when he produced no tears. He was crying! He should be able to produce tears!
"Who am I?" he asked himself. "What am I?"
(Three months later)
(Murtagh Point of View)
Murtagh groaned softly as a soft knocking on the door reached his ears. He wanted nothing more than to wallow in self pity and grief at what he had experienced the past few months, especially as he'd never had time to grieve properly. There simply hadn't been time and there had been too much to do. But he desperately needed it.
The knocking became more insistent and so Murtagh walked over to the door. He was still dressed in his day clothes from the previous day as he hadn't changed into his pajamas before going to bed. Then again, he had to force himself to do his own hygiene. That was how depressed he was.
Three months ago, to this day, his little half brother, or rather little brother and best friend as he had thought of him as, had disappeared. Neither he nor his dragon Saphira had shown up. It had put everyone in a state of shock when no one could seem to find him after that fateful promise of gathering firewood for them. Not even a body had been found.
While Murtagh still had hope that the boy was alive, what he desperately needed was closure one way or another. While he didn't want him to be dead, at least if both of their bodies were found, then he and his dragon wouldn't have had to live in constant uncertainty, as well as wonder what direction to go. Should they continue looking for them, or should they declare them dead?
But no matter what, Murtagh wasn't willing to declare them dead, not until bodies were produced. After all, he'd been there once before, people assuming he was dead even though there was no body.
And that made Murtagh wonder if foul play was involved. Could Eragon have been kidnapped? And if so, where was he? How was he to find him? And so, for three continuous months, searches had been continuing even though the trail had run cold. They'd found no tracks, nothing since he'd vanished. He'd basically just disappeared off the face of the earth.
Immediately, they had gone to the capital, as it was now called since they hadn't come up with a new name, and they'd demanded manpower to search for him. Of course Nasuada had complied, and even the elves had pitched in when they heard. Meanwhile, the dwarves had conducted their own search party. And so, Murtagh returned to the same spot with allies, but they had yet to turn up with anything.
Murtagh had been terribly disappointed. In fact, he was furious. He demanded that they keep searching when everyone had given up, and the elves had had to pull him aside to tell him that they were leaving. When Murtagh had lost his temper and accused them of giving up so soon, they had been forgiving, but reaffirmed their decision. They were pulling out.
Next to leave had been the humans, and Murtagh was notably disappointed that his own race would abandon one of their own so easily. He could understand another race doing it, but not his own kind. But interestingly enough, the dwarves had stayed for quite a while longer, more than twice the length of the other two. It was through that that he realized that they must have really considered him one of their own, and he was admittedly surprised. But eventually they left to to hold their own grieving ceremony for him.
And so, all that was left to search for Eragon were the dragon riders who were now under Murtagh's command. And the riders had been another issue that had quickly drained him.
When it became apparent that Eragon wasn't going to be found and that the riders were in need of another leader, Aria had immediately told Murtagh to step up to the plate and take control.
"Why should I?" Murtagh had hissed at her, still emotional and irked that the elves had abandoned Eragon so easily. "Eragon is the leader, not me!"
Arya had sighed. Murtagh had been in Ellesmera after Arya had summoned him, wanting to talk. And it turned out that this is why she had summoned him, to talk about the state of the riders. They were currently walking outside under the trees and Murtagh, who had been extra emotional lately, had stopped to snap at her even though he was well aware of the fact that it could make him enemies with who he had once hoped would be his sister in law.
Arya turned around to face him, no emotion on her face. Then she answered firmly, "Because, Eragon is not here and so the riders fall to you. You were the next in command."
"Were?" Murtagh asked incredulously. He hated what she was implying and he began trembling in anger. "If it's so much to you, why don't you take temporary control until Eragon comes back?"
At this point the elf queen was watching him closely and Murtagh could tell the queen thought he was in denial. But luckily she decided to skirt the issue for now. "For one, by virtue that Thorn hatched before Firnen, you are senior in the riders to me. It is not just your right, Murtagh. It's your duty."
She hesitated for a minute. "Besides, the riders aren't supposed to be biased, and seeing as I'm the elven queen, if I take over, then it would put things in an unfair advantage for the elves. We've just gotten over war. We don't need more friction."
Murtagh snorted and folded his arms. "They'll never accept me even as a temporary leader. Not since I'm Morzan's son, and not after what I did." He was trying to find excuses at this point. Anything to avoid him admitting that Eragon was dead.
To his surprise, though, Arya merely raised her eyebrows. "You really don't see yourself as you actually are, do you? You're a natural leader, and already most everyone is over what happened. The past is the past. They will follow you, and they do follow you."
"Only because of Eragon," was his reply. "And they have no reason to other than blood relation."
Arya sighed once more as he made things even more difficult. "That's not true. You've been behind some ingenious ideas."
"But I'm Morzan's son. They'll never follow me. Besides, I'm still recovering from what Galbatorix did to me."
Arya rolled her eyes. "Now your just making excuses. And if you're worried about resistance, don't worry. It happens to every leader especially when a new leader takes over the dragon riders. You'll just be one of many to experience it. Some people loathe change."
Having run out of excuses, Murtagh decided to try a different path. "And if I refuse?" he challenged. "I'm already dealing with the dragon riders as a faithful second in command."
"And it's not the same," Arya told him. "And if you refuse, I'll make it official on my part and tell everyone you're the leader of the riders." She stared at him in challenge as Murtagh's demeanor changed to horror.
"You have no right!" he hissed, pointing a finger at her, loosing it. "That can only be between the riders!"
"And I am a rider," she replied firmly.
"But you just declared yourself the elven queen before!"
"And?" Her eyebrows were raised.
At what he viewed to be callousness to the situation, Murtagh began shaking. "Don't you care?" he accused her. "The one you love had disappeared! And yet you stand here acting as if it's nothing! I thought you loved him!" And with that he whipped around calling to Thorn so that that they could leave. But not before Arya caught up with him and spun him around, holding him a harsh grip.
Her eyes were furious. "Don't you ever accuse me of not caring for Eragon!" she hissed and released him with some disgust in her voice, shoving him away from her. "You know nothing!" she told him, her eyes full of pain. "You know nothing about me and Eragon! I care more than you realize! And this whole situation isn't just about you, you know! You have a duty! So do it!"
The very venom in her voice made Murtagh realize that he had gone too far. He trembled slightly, knowing his emotions had gotten the better of him. "I-I'm sorry," he stammered, in shock. "I shouldn't have said it. I-I just can't declare Eragon dead. I can't!"
And with that, Arya nodded, compassion back in her eyes. "I understand," she whispered. "More than you know." With that she made to walk away, but not without turning back. "Declare yourself leader of the riders, for everyone's sake. But you don't have to declare Eragon dead. You can still keep searching for him, you know. I am. And if he comes back, of course he should be leader of the riders since it's his right. But for now we need something more permanent in his absence. It's not the end of the world."
And with that she'd left Murtagh standing there in shock until Thorn picked him up. And with hesitation, and with her pushing him a few more times, he did as he asked, and the riders made him their leader.
With that came the prerogatives of living in the head chambers where the lead rider would sleep. It was in the castle that the riders had built for the riders and was in the same wing where the elder riders stayed, and where Arya would have stayed if she was there.
But Murtagh hadn't been able to bring himself to do it, and nobody mentioned to him about the fact that he was still staying in the second in command headquarters, even though it was expected of him to move into the chambers of the leader. They didn't have the heart to. And so they'd kept it quite that Murtagh was still sleeping in the chambers of the second in command.
It was in these chambers, painted red after his dragon and with red hangings, that he'd awakened from the tapping on the door. And he was still tired. But he had a duty to do, and so he opened the door. "Yes?" he asked quietly, softly as he looked at a female human rider that was standing at attention.
"I have the reports you asked for," she told him and Murtagh nodded. He was still having the riders search for Eragon and even though many thought it was pointless they complied, knowing that Murtagh needed it for his sanity's sake.
It had been too much for him to take up the mantle of the leader of the riders officially, especially since he was still recovering from what Galbatorix had done to him. He was overwhelmed by everything and the recent events. It was too soon for anything to happen, too soon. He was in denial and shock from it on top of his other griefs.
And what was worse was that the bad memories of those times with Galbatorix were being reawakened from his grief over Eragon. He was struggling terribly. But he was at least thankful that there was much of that time he couldn't remember as he was having trouble coping as it was. But the grief was still there and in full force, even over what he didn't remember, and his grief over Eragon was added to it.
She handed him a scroll and Murtagh took it gratefully before retiring again to his chambers. He read it over carefully but was not surprised when it said that nothing had been turned up in the search.
Holding the scroll to his chest, he collapsed onto his bed once again and was surprised when tears came silently down his cheeks. He'd never cried over Eragon until now. Before he'd been able to compose his emotions, and he'd considered crying something that weakened him. But now he couldn't hold the tears back and he realized that he needed time to grieve desperately. And so he didn't stop the tears. He let them come.
Calling out to the woman who'd delivered him the report, using mental communication, he told them not to disturb him for anything for a couple of days, even during an emergency. 'I-I just need time to myself... time to grieve.' If anything happened, they'd have to figure it out for themselves. Murtagh was worn out.
She acknowledged back through the link and never said anything back but he knew that she understood and had compassion on him. And thus he went back to weeping, curling up on his bed. He wept for everything he'd gone through; his abuse as a youth by the hands of his father, his feeling of abandonment by his mother.
He grieved over his feeling of abandonment when Eragon never came for him and he was forced to face Galbatorix alone. He wept over his kidnapping and subsequent brainwashing. He shed tears over his feeling of guilt over everything that had happened and being used as a tool, even though he knew it wasn't his fault, his guilt over Thorn having to go through it with him, And... and he wept over Eragon's disappearance.
The tears flowed freely and for once he felt some relief. He trusted the others to leave him be for now for they knew that he needed a chance to process his grief. He'd delayed too long already. They understood. And quite frankly, it felt good to grieve. He was surprised at how good it felt. It as comforting. It helped him cope and he was in amazement at that.
'Murtagh,' his dragon sighed through the leak and compassion was leaked through their bond for which the young man was grateful for. The tears flowed more rapidly now and he brought his knees to his chest in an attempt to comfort himself as he lay on his side. Now he looked small in comparison to his large bed, and that's how he felt, small.
'You're not small,' Thorn reassured him. 'And you have a good heart. Never forget that.' And with that Murtagh noticed that Thorn's own grieving process was ignited and he realized that his own dragon had been delaying his grieving to. He'd been so caught up in everything that he'd forgotten Thorn's own emotional needs for the past few months, and he felt guilty about that.
'Don't worry about it,' Thorn replied and Murtagh thought he was crying on the other end, grieving over Saphira. And it was then that Murtagh realized that Thorn had wanted to go through this together. They needed each other.
And that was fine with Murtagh. In a selfish kind of way, Murtagh was glad that he'd waited so that they could jointly grieve over their friends and help each other through this hard time. After all, Thorn and Saphira had become good friends. It had hit him hard as well. They were family, the four of them.
And so the tears flowed and for once Murtagh found that it wasn't weakness to cry and grieve. It was strength. It was very comforting.
He wept more. Finally, he cried until he was ready to sleep.
Murtagh was tired now. The emotions had taken their toll on him, but it was needful. "Eragon?" he whispered aloud to himself, the agony, desperation, and need still in his voice.
"Eragon, where are you?"
(Eragon Point of View)
Eragon shoved the dead deer off of him. He'd gotten better at hunting over the past few months, and to his relief he no longer had those bright red eyes. They'd calmed down slightly, looking more golden, last time he'd looked in the river.
Finding clothes after his first hunt had been difficult. The truth is, he had stolen them. And being so near the humans had been difficult. He was luckily that he'd come across the clothing hanging outside and that the humans hadn't been too close. He hadn't been sure that he'd been able to resist if that were the case.
But he'd stayed away from humans since then. And fortunately his next hunt had been better and he hadn't destroyed his clothes, as badly that is. Fortunately, he had stolen quite a few extra clothes after he'd realized the state of his first ones. And he was thankfully learning quickly. Maybe that was because he was a hunter in his previous life, so those instincts had been heightened and came easier to him. But he wasn't going to dwell on it.
Another thing Eragon was grateful for was that all his changes of clothes no longer smelled human. They'd taken on his vampire scent a long while ago, to which he was grateful. They human smell had made him uncomfortable and almost made him want to hunt. He'd calmed down now that they'd stopped smelling like that.
As Eragon buried the deer he sniffed the air, as was his custom. He wanted to make sure that he wasn't in any danger, or that's what his instincts told him. But so far he'd had yet to come across anything. Not even dragons could harm him. Perhaps another one of his kind could, but he hadn't seen any yet. That made him uncomfortable. How many of them were there?
Eragon knew nothing of what he was let alone what he was called, and that made him frightened. He was practically going through this alone and without guidance. There was no one to mentor him and tell him about things. He was a loner in a strange world.
Well, almost abandoned that is. His faithful Saphira was ever by his side.
His first encounter with Saphira after his changing had been frightening and embarrassing. Saphira had been acting concerned about him, but the moment she set down and her scent hit him, he was embarrassed to say that he lost control and attacked her. And her struggling against him were useless. And she'd cried out to him, but he hadn't been able to hear, his animal mind in control at that time.
But as fast as it had happened it had stopped for he immediately felt her pain, and his "human" senses came back. Her pain was his pain, and since becoming whatever he was the bond was heightened in ways he never knew. And so he'd finally gained enough control to stop and assess the damage he'd done.
He felt guilty over it. He hadn't meant it, and though Saphira commented later that she had somewhat of an understanding, able to see his mind, even if she couldn't understand completely, he still felt guilty. He'd hurt his Saphira, even if it was by accident, something he had promised never to do. After the venom which was put in her system had stopped flowing, and he was sure she was fine, he'd grieved. Even his venom had caused her pain.
For some reason after that, he never was triggered to go hunting her after that, almost like his subconscious had locked it out. It was probably because of the bond he guessed, because his animal instincts must have registered her to be him or something like that, because he had felt her pain. And thus it had learned instinctually never to do that again. But he couldn't say the same about other dragons, however. He'd come close to killing several. After that they'd fled when he was having trouble controlling himself.
By now Saphira had learned not to be near him when he was hunting or after he'd come back from a hunting trip for her own safety even though it was doubtful that he'd be able to harm her again by hunting her. But neither of them wanted to chance it. Her first contact with him after his change had decided that for the both of them.
After the change they'd both caught up with what happened to the both of them. And it was strange experiences indeed. Eragon had gone first as he had a lot to answer for, even though Saphira didn't blame him as she knew something was wrong. But it was an unspoken agreement. Then Saphira had told her tale.
She'd been gone for some time when pain hit her, and she realized that it was his pain. Then she'd felt the pain that he must have felt when the creature was feeding on him, excruciating pain. And then the bond was snapped as he died. She'd been there in a state of shock and grief, not sure how to respond, silently weeping him and in rage. Then, oddly enough, a couple of hours later the bond had reignited again and she was in the most extreme pain that she'd ever been in, the pain increasing.
When it stopped, she was sure that something was different about the bond. For one their bond was stronger (even Eragon had noticed it, he just hadn't been consciously aware of it as he'd other issues at the time). That and their bond felt different. It now felt almost eternal and infinite.
That and she could tell that he was different, no longer human, even though she didn't know what he was. She could feel how feral he felt and the burning ache in his throat, and immediately set off to find him.
That was when she noticed that she was faster and stronger, and her body was also more like armor now, more than ever before. She also had heightened senses.
When she'd found him and he'd accidentally bit her, the venom had somehow increased her strength and every other trait she'd gained since waking up, though she doubted that it would do that for any other non bonded dragon. She was sure it was because of the bond that she's survived the venom, or whatever it was. No non bonded dragon would have that advantage.
And yet despite all that, Eragon was stronger than her and faster than her, having better everything, even when she was using her top speed and top strength in the air. In fact, he would often run while she flew, and she would always beg him to slow down for her, at which he would chuckle in amusement through their bond. Yes, there were some good things about this change. Some.
She also found herself relying on his eyes and others senses and instincts as they were stronger. He could even see with perfect clarity in the night time, something she didn't have.
To Eragon it was amusing as it was a flop from the way it had been before. She was annoyed at this and how he would tease her for it. Before he had been weaker, his senses had been weaker, and she had been easily able to pin him to the ground.
Now he could pin her to the ground and keep her there as long he liked. And he had done that before in a playful way, being careful with her as to not harm her as she was fragile compared to him. He was cautious since even he could easily pierce through her new found "armor" with his teeth and bare hands.
According to Eragon, it was playfully getting back for all the times she had pinned him to the ground something she was annoyingly regretting. But in actuality, they both knew it was because Eragon needed the humor to cope with his new found change in life. He was having a hard time handling it as it was.
Despite that one incident, they hadn't come across any other beings like Eragon. There simply didn't seem to be any around. And Eragon was lonely that he couldn't find more, even if they were cold hearted killers like the woman he had come across. He desperately needed some questions answered, as did Saphira. For one, what had happened to him? What was he?
Even with how slow Saphira was, they made really good time. She was now the fastest dragon on earth. Eragon still rode her occasionally, at her insistence, but he preferred running. To him Saphira was slow but his speed was exhilarating. Nonetheless, he respected her needs, her feelings, and her wishes. He would grant her a ride when she wanted one.
After Eragon was finished burying the deer he ran off once again. 'Saphira,' he called out with his mind. 'I'm done!'
Immediately he felt her flying towards him. Another unique thing about their bond was that they always knew where each other was now. Also, he seemed to be immune to magic or rather like it didn't exist for him, so for Saphira to communicate with him she had to project her thoughts out loud like she was speaking out loud.
She could no longer speak to him in his mind, though he could do so to her. That meant that anyone who was capable of mind speak would be able to hear them communicate. It also meant less privacy in a way. And so they'd come up with code words and phrases that only the both of them knew the meaning of so that the could have some semblance of privacy in case they ever encountered some mind speaking company.
But it was unusual that magic didn't exist for Eragon but he could still use it. He wondered why that was. It was nice that he was now immune to magical attacks, and at the same time his magic was the most powerful it had ever been and ever increasing, but when he reached to feel if it was there, it simply wasn't there. But if he used spells out of instinct it would happen.
It was odd and Saphira was practically going through the same thing magic wise, so she understood what Eragon was talking about, and why they could use magic when magic didn't exist for them and they were immune to it.
After all, how could he have seemingly no magic existing inside him and still be able to use magic? It was like it wasn't coming from him anymore, but created, but only when he thought about it. And he still was immune even when he did use it. It was like it was created in front of him, but not from his surroundings, like it was willed into existence away from him by his mind, seeing as it couldn't be willed near him or around him due to his immunity.
And so he'd had to retrain, but he was learning quickly. That also meant that long distance spells were no longer a problem for him. He also had no limits and he couldn't die from it plus it was increasing and getting ever more powerful with time. Could that be because he was dead?
That was another thing. He honestly didn't know if he was dead or alive. There was no doubt he had been dead when his neck was painfully snapped, but his heart had restarted. And even though it had stopped again, he was moving around and breathing like someone that was alive. Wasn't that the definition of alive? That and his bond with Saphira was still there.
Saphira seemed to think of him as somewhere in between. Eragon called himself the walking dead because that was the best he could classify himself as. But for all intents and purposes, he should be dead. His neck had been snapped, and he had no beating heart. But he continued to exist.
'But regardless, I'm glad that you're still around,' Saphira had told him. And strangely enough, with everything he had gone through, he was glad that he was still around to.
Eragon returned from his thoughts and ran to a clearing, rejoicing when he saw Saphira in the distance. No doubt she hadn't seen him yet. But it was not long before she landed. He watched her graceful landing in such detail as he would never have been able to observe before his changing. He saw the way her wings subtly shifted to one side and the other, the slight twisting of them. He saw her muscles bunch as she landed and heard as the wind whisked past her wings and the ground shifted.
He heard everything in perfect clarity. He even observed the changes in the scent in the air as wind was pushed towards him. That was besides her new scent, of course.
He sighed. After he'd awakened and first seen her, it was like he'd never seen her before. And she was beautiful, particularly the way her scales sparkled. He'd even shown her what he'd seen.
For once she wasn't vain about herself. She'd teased him about how he sparkled like a diamond.
'My little diamond,' she nicknamed him despite his protests, and the name had stuck, unfortunately. He hadn't been able to get her to give him a different nickname.
"Why not use my old nickname?" he'd once asked her.
'Because I like this one better,' she'd smugly informed him, and he was sure that she was smirking, if that was a dragon's smirk that was. Eventually he'd let it go. He wasn't going to win the argument, no matter how hard he tried. And it wasn't worth it it, even if it was annoying.
Saphira motioned with her head towards her back where the saddle was already in place and Eragon understood her unspoken communication. She wanted him to rider her. And so, with out any hesitation, he lightly leaped on with his his new found speed and agility. She took off a short time later, after having squatted down. Then she leaped into the air and Eragon could hear how the air whistled around the both of them, especially her wings as she moved them up and down.
Using his new sight he looked far below him. They were well outside Alagaesia. But that didn't matter since for him it wasn't that far a run to Alagaesia. If he were to measure the distance of where the riders had settled and the space they and the dragons occupied, then go to the far side of Alagaesia, and the double that distance, it was a distance he could run in about an hour and half. While it took Saphira longer to fly that distance, with her new found strength and speed she could easily manage it within half a day. For them the distance was nothing.
Concentrating on his senses, Eragon felt as the wind whipped past him. Saphira was flying at speeds that would have been dangerous to a normal rider, but he was not normal. Plus the speed would have been too much for an ordinary dragon to handle. And they wouldn't have had the agility that she had. Their wings would have been torn apart at this speed.
They were high up, circling, when Eragon decided to jump. The speed at jumping was to slow for him. He could easily run faster than his terminal velocity. He looked up and saw Saphira growl at him in agitation and chuckled, the ground coming closer inch by inch it seemed.
Finally his feet touched ground and he was careful to land as delicately as possible so as not to create a crater of sorts, too easy for him to do. And then he was off, at a "slow" speed for Saphira's sake so that she could keep up. And she did.
Flying low, she swooped down and Eragon sighed, knowing what she wanted. He easily leaped the distant height onto her back and they were off in flight once more.
In was exhilarating for him, and for Saphira to, to move at these new speeds. Their ease of navigating and agility was also incredible.
'Where to?' Saphira thought aloud to him and Eragon frowned. He preferred the wild lands so that he didn't accidentally harm anyone. It would be too much for him to bear if he accidentally killed a dragon, human, dwarf, urgal, elf, or anyone intelligent for that matter. And so, he was always moving away from Alagaesia so as not to be tempted to return.
"Further north," he said aloud to her. It was more cloudless up north and so there was less likely a chance that Saphira would comment how he sparkled like a diamond in the sunlight. Those comments annoyed him because it only served to push home even further that he wasn't human anymore. He still mourned his loss of his humanity. In many ways he would give anything to be human again.
Saphira aligned her direction northward and with that Eragon sighed, sat back, and enjoyed the flight. For a while he was motionless, much like a statue, and the rocking of Saphira's flight didn't even serve to affect him any.
Not long later they sat down and Saphira laid down on the soft grass. Nestling beside her, Eragon became still once more, gazing at the horizon, choosing not to think about anything. He breathed evenly, Saphira's scent all around him. He was well aware of when she shuffled occasionally to get more comfortable. But as a vampire he had no need to move.
How long they stayed there like that, grieving the turn of things almost, they didn't know. But finally Eragon wanted to break the silence. "I want to find more like me, Saphira," he told her, glancing back at her. "I'm lonely."
It was already bad enough that he might never see his friends and family again due to how dangerous he was. But at least it was comforting that he was having trouble recalling those memories and that they were fading. He didn't know if he would be able to cope otherwise.
It was the same with Saphira. The memories of their past fragile selves were like a dream, and there were times when both wondered if it had even existed to begin with. And it was like how childhood memories fade and aren't really remembered, except on a larger scale. That was how those memories were fading. And given enough time Eragon was sure they would fade completely.
In fact he speculated that soon it would be completely gone due to it's insignificance, unless he kept bringing the memories up. And since he was choosing not to bring the memories up, that would mean that it would fade to where he couldn't even really decipher them anymore.
Already he was having trouble remembering his family. Did he have one brother or two? Or were they cousins? He even had trouble recalling their names. The only real human memory he could remember with clarity was the burning as he turned. And yet his new life gave him perfect recall from the moment he woke up. It wasn't fair!
'I know,' she told him. 'Life isn't fair to us.'
'It isn't fair to anyone,' Eragon pouted, watching as a distant cloud streaked across the sky. He knew he'd participated in battles as a human, but other than that the details were sketchy, and even then he had trouble recalling the battles in even a fuzzy form of detail.
"What do you think it was like?" he finally asked aloud. "How many friends did we have? Of the ones that I can barely recall, were they all of them, or only a handful of friends that we had?"
'Who knows,' Saphira mused. 'Which is why it's possibly best to move on, not to dwell on the past and what we can't have.'
"And how many of my kind are there?" Eragon mused. That was another thing. He always said 'my kind', never connoting his human past. It was like the human past was insignificant. "And where can I find others like me?"
'I wish I knew,' Saphira confessed. 'I wonder if there are other dragons bonded to those like you, and what they are like.'
"Me to," he whispered, barely audible to Saphira and yet quite audible to him. He took in a deep breath, relaxing as many scents reached him. "I am so lonely. And yet I am lucky to have you, for if I were truly alone... I do not know what would become of me."
'We are in this together,' Saphira reassured him and he was able to find comfort in it. In the end he wasn't alone.
Suddenly, the wind direction changed and an odd scent reached Eragon's nose. In an instant he was in a defensive crouch, growling. He didn't recognize the scent. And for some reason he felt threatened, which was odd since he wasn't aware of anything but another one of his kind that could harm him. He stayed still, listening, but nothing was heard.
"Saphira, get in the air," he commanded, concerned for her safety, for until he knew what it was and whether or not it was a danger he wasn't taking any chances when it came to her. Out of the two of them, even with her enhanced endurance she was still significantly more vulnerable than him.
Saphira was hesitant, startled by his reaction and frozen in shock, as if she didn't know what to make of the situation. It took less than a fraction of a second to realize that Saphira must not have smelled the scent. It must have been too far away for her to smell, and her nose was not as good as his.
Once upon a time it was a different story, back when he was human and the roles were reversed, but not anymore. And to the boy's frustration Saphira merely stood instead of complying, even though Eragon was crouched protectively in front of her, almost challenging anyone to attempt to harm her.
'Eragon, what is it?' she thought aloud for his benefit and Eragon growled once more.
It took him a moment to calm his instincts down and he turned back to her while keeping his other senses and his peripheral vision attuned to notice any danger that should attempt to harm them. "I smell an unusual scent, one I've never come across before," Eragon explained.
After this comment his beautiful dragon sniffed the air, trying to see what he had smelled. But she found nothing. "It may be beyond what your senses can detect," Eragon suggested. "It's still a long way out, but my senses never mistake."
The dragon nodded. 'That doesn't mean that it's dangerous. After all, what could possibly stand against you? You're practically indestructible.'
"I don't know!" Eragon snarled back, upset that she wasn't listening. "But all I know is that my instinct are screaming 'danger' and I trust my instincts!"
With that Saphira sighed and then took off into the air. "Stay in the air until I give the clear!" Eragon shouted to her in a range that he knew she would be able to hear him. And with that he slowly made his way towards the area where the smell was coming from, immediately wary of any potential danger that he could find. He wasn't taking any chances for himself either.
Not long later, he found the area and a trail that had the scent, Saphira high above him. Taking in a deep whiff, the potent smell filled his mouth and nostrils again, and like before it screamed danger. It also was offensive to him, something he had immediately noticed the first time he smelled it, almost like a wet dog smell. If he was human, he would be barfing from the scent.
To his frustration, Saphira landed, giving a slight thump on the ground. Then she to took a sniff of the area and was shocked at what she found. Eragon watched her was warily, annoyed that she was putting herself in danger despite his instructions. After all if it came to a fight with whatever it was, she would definitely be dead where as he would stand a chance at surviving.
Her nose scrunched slightly form the smell. 'Ugh! Wet dog!'
"Or so it seems," Eragon cast her a glance. Then he sighed. "Saphira, why didn't you stay in the air like I asked?" And he gave her a pointed glare.
The dragon looked at him incredulously. 'Well I couldn't very well just fly by and leave you down here when you said there may be danger, now could I?'
"Yes!" Eragon growled at her and toned it down when he noticed her fright and subsequently felt it. She hadn't been frightened of him since he accidentally attacked her and began feeding on her, and he never wanted to see his precious dragon afraid of him. It pained him emotionally.
The boy decided to change tones in order to get it through to her and he was left wondering if she had done this to him as a human, making him see reason. But if she did, he could no longer remember. But that was besides the point.
"Saphira," he pled. "Your fragile compared to me and I may not always be able to protect you as I can protect myself, especially if there are multiple attackers. You need to understand that. You can get hurt, whereas there is less likely a chance that I would be hurt in such a conflict!"
And the great dragon sighed. 'But we are bonded, Eragon. I may not remember how, but I know this much from my instincts, and I know you do from your instincts as well. What frightens you frightens me. I can feel your fear. I want to be by your side no matter what.'
Eragon lifted an eyebrow then replied, "Even though I would probably make it out unscathed where as you would be severely hurt as a minimum, more than likely killed?"
And with that assumption Saphira growled even though she knew it was true. She brought her head to tower proudly above him. 'Yes!' she proudly declared and Eragon sighed, knowing that she wasn't going to change her mind. He could only hope that he could protect her from whatever had caused his instincts to go in the preservation mode.
With that he turned back to the strange smell that had caught his attention, the one Saphira hadn't been able to smell until she landed. He himself had not noticed the smell until the direction of the wind had changed due to how far away it was. Granted, no animal would have been able to smell it at that distance either.
The only reason he could smell it was due to his heightened senses. Even Saphira, with her heightened senses would have smelled it at a farther range than an ordinary dragon or animal, but nowhere near as far away as he could.
"So odd," Eragon mused aloud, following the trail cautiously. The main scent of the wet dogs was there, and yet he could smell the individual scents, four in total. Following where they were going he made sure to got at a pace that Saphira could keep up with, a pace that no normal dragon would have been able to go. But with Saphira's heightened strength and speed, she was able to follow.
'I wonder what it is?' Saphira wondered aloud and Eragon shrugged. Whatever these creatures were, they were able to move at the speed his kind moved at, if he guessed correctly. The scent extended for miles, and yet it was just as fresh as the scent many miles back, something no normal animal would be able to do. That made him wonder what these things were capable of. But despite that he found no footprints almost as if they were careful to leave none. Could these things be intelligent?
"Saphira," Eragon informed her. "I can investigate this faster if you go into the air. But at this rate my tracking of them is not going to do much good. Not with this speed."
With an annoyed mental sigh Saphira rose into the air, letting Eragon pick up his pace. He traced it many miles further, all going towards the north, when suddenly he stopped. An even bigger pack of dogs had been in this area. They had joined with the group Eragon was tracking going north together and now the wet dog scents numbered ten.
That wasn't the only thing that bothered him. In this area it became evident that there were many day old smells of wet dogs, as if they traversed this path frequently.
'What is it?' Saphira asked him and Eragon relayed the information he had gained him. And though he hadn't come across any footprints, Eragon could tell from smelling where the feet of the individual hounds had been, and how far apart they were, that they were massive.
At this Saphira was definitely worried. A pack of wolves that size and with that speed, not including the amount of strength they probably possessed would have overwhelmed her if she was on the ground and it came to a fight. And that was with her new enhancements. They both knew it.
Admittedly, it irked Eragon that only now she was taking her safety into consideration. "Oh so now you're afraid?" he snapped at her, the worry of the situation getting to him.
But she didn't snap back. 'Eragon, be careful!' were her words of caution and Eragon sent acknowledgments back. No doubt a group of ten strong mutts would be too much for him. But then another thought occurred to him. Would they even be able to pierce his indestructible hide? It was quite solid and hard. But he didn't want to take any chances.
"Saphira," he commanded. "Fly far way from here, where they wouldn't even be able to see and hear you, or smell you. I'll take it from here."
'But-!' Saphira protested and Eragon shook his head.
'I'm indestructible, remember?' he reassured her weakly even though he was beginning to wonder if he had possibly met his match. But regardless, he was relieved when she obeyed him. The fear might have gotten to her, and though she didn't like him in danger, she knew by now that he would stand a much better chance than she would.
Eragon watched Saphira sail off in the sky, and when he was satisfied that she was far enough away he began pursuing the scent further, his curiosity getting the better of him. Even though his instincts screamed at him to run, he still wanted to know what on earth this scent belonged to.
An hour later, Eragon tracked the scent through trees and into a forest as well as another familiar scent. He had suspicions, but he was determined not to believe until he saw with his own eyes. He didn't want to be disappointed. Sniffing it, he noticed that the scent here was strong. A clearing was in the distance that the creatures had no doubt crossed and he ran to the clearing of trees, only to freeze in shock and curiosity. He was right!
Her scent reached his nose easily despite the wind blowing away and the clearing was no clearing at all as there were no trees in the distance. A growl had reached him well before he reached the clearing, a growl where his kind is protecting their prey. And yet Eragon had still traversed forward, wanting to see if there really was another like him.
Once more she growled at him to stay back, and Eragon backed up a few yards, respecting her space. She was crouched on top of a mountain lion, drinking it's blood, and her golden eyes were on him as if wondering if he was going to attempt to steal her prey. Despite his instincts to crouch down and protect himself, Eragon forced himself to remain standing and in a casual manner that would portray that he meant her no harm. And yet her eyes were still on him, watching him carefully.
She was easily beautiful, even for a vampire, her hair tied in a french roll, a style he'd never seen and didn't know what it was called. The long, flowing black dress complimented her. Around her neck was a necklace with an odd symbol on it. She seemed almost like the age of a seventeen year old, frozen in that year.
When she was done she stood upright, watching him, no longer taking note of her prey, stalk still. Eragon decided to break the silence for them.
"Wow! You're like me!" he exclaimed in excitement. Maybe now he would finally have his questions answered. Perhaps she could tell him what he had become?
But instead, she narrowed her eyes at him, and Eragon began to wonder if this was going to be a one way conversation. So he decided to try a different approach.
"What is your name?" Eragon asked, attempting to keep the elation out of his voice.
The woman considered him carefully, as if deciding whether or not she would answer. But finally she did.
"Jane."
Alright, so that's my first chapter. Don't worry, all the oddities will be explained.
And for the record in regards to Jane, I'm going with the book Jane, but I'm using the looks and age from the movies.
On other business, I have a proposal.
So yeah, Eragon has had to move on from Arya, but may not exactly be over her. That said, Jane will be somewhat of a new interest for him and he is going to develop feelings for her.
At some point I'm going to have Arya and Jane clash, partly because they don't like each other, partly because they both like the same guy (Eragon), and partly because Eragon is sort of going to flit back and forth between the two of them, unfortunately. So because of that, it causes even more friction between Arya and Jane, as well as jealousy.
But in the end, the flitting will stop, and he's going to have a permanent pairing. I'm putting it to a vote, but I may not use the vote; it all depends are where the story goes. But then again I may.
So, what's your choice? Should Eragon end up with either Arya or Jane? For now I've decided will be two times to vote, one now and one later on once the novel's really progressed.
I'll be fair and put down reasons for both of them as to why it should be and why it shouldn't be. (Warning, plot spoilers, but not too much!)
Reason's for Eragon to be with Arya:
Let's face it, she was his first love! And though it took her a while to admit it, she did in the end at least return the affections. That, and she's beautiful in her own way, but more importantly she's a strong woman and a strong leader. In many ways she's the face of wisdom and reason.
She has always had a kind heart, unlike Jane. She would be capable of bringing out the best in Eragon, as well as council him in regards to situations that come up.
She's also seen a lot, and while not as much as Jane, she's seen enough to navigate life with prudence. That, and though Edward was breaking the rules by exposing what he was to Bella, it worked out in the end even with the trials.
Reasons for Eragon to be with Jane:
For one, she's like him, a vampire. Eragon would be at no risk of harming her, quite the opposite in fact, even with his newborn strength. That, and she would be able to teach him about this new life.
And for one, his love for her would be more genuine. Crushes come instantaneously, but true love develops over time and joint experiences, which will be the case between them. Plus, she's much older than Arya and has seen much more, which means she'll have more wisdom.
Whereas Arya couldn't protect Eragon, she could, and she could teach him how to protect himself in this new life. Also she would be able to understand and relate what he's going through as a newborn. That, and Eragon softens her up immensely and brings out a softer side of her never before seen. They also work very well together.
Reasons against Eragon being with Arya:
For one, it would be too easy for him to hurt her, even accidentally. His affections for her were instantaneous, more of a crush. She also causes a lot of drama between them.
She wouldn't be able to help defend him, rather she would be the one defenseless. That, and she wouldn't be able to help him navigate this new life or even give him advice in regards to it as she's never gone through it.
Plus there's the social barriers. She's the queen of the elves, and he's the leader of the riders. If he's with her, he's showing bias in favor of the elves, something that couldn't happen if he was with Jane.
Also the vampires have rules that prohibit extensive interactions with humans, elves, urgals, dwarves, etc. There's a law against exposing themselves, and he would be breaking it if he were to be with her, causing all sorts of complications. That and she's too old for him, (both of them really).
Reasons against Eragon being with Jane:
She may drink animal blood now, but she has killed humans in the past, and not just for feeding either. Though she's more controlled and calm with her emotions, she does still occasionally have a sadistic side.
She views the world somewhat differently from Eragon due to the things she's seen in her many years, and like Arya, she's too old for him. But her age difference is more massive than Eragon's age difference with Arya as she's older than Alagaesia itself.
She's also an enforcer of the law, so if Eragon does break the rules, she'll be required to punish him even if she doesn't want to.
She also lacks patience at times. At first she's very annoyed with him and considers him a nuisance, not paying him much attention other than what is needed. And while she's changed and isn't as sadistic anymore, she still harbors hatred towards humans, and well, anything that isn't indestructible like them.
That means that dragons (though she's tolerant of Saphira), elves, dwarves, urgals, and other creatures are in the category of the humans. And while she may not kill humans anymore, she's apathetic towards them. For instance, there was one time she noticed a dying human, and while she could save her and didn't kill her, she merely turned on her heel and walked away, considering the human a "petty nuisance not worth a vampire's time".
Over time that softens up though, with Eragon's influence.
Also, Alec doesn't like Eragon near Jane after he notices the he has feelings for her.
That's it! I'll put a poll and let you cast your vote! It'll be "preferred final pairing".
Feel free to check out my other stories, too!
Firestar'sniece