Updated (13/05/2019) - This chapter has undergone some major edits/re-writes, fleshing out everything and fixes some issues. It was originally 6,763 words long, it is now 10,382. Enjoy this newly edited chapter.
Thanks to RedRebelPirate for editing this chapter and providing feedback on how to improve it, pointing out a few mistakes I had made. I recommend checking out her IC story, 'Dream To Become Legend'
Chapter 2 will no be undergoing edits to match this first chapter's changes, I'll provide an update AN at the beginning of that chapter to let you readers know if it has been updated yet or is the original.
The Fall
The endless sea of trees beneath the flying duo filled him with a sense of peace, safety.
The Riders were gone, dead, the Order fell despite the century and a half of time he had to prepare for The Fall.
But his efforts weren't in vain, he had dealt deadly blows to the Oathbreaker and his followers, changing some things for the better.
'Are we doing the right thing by hiding?' His dragon asked, uncertainty evident in his voice at fleeing the battle.
He remained silent.
There were many good reasons to flee and hide in the safety of the Du Weldenvarden, the great forest on the North of the vast continent of Alagaesia. Training the next generation of Riders, preparing to strike back at the enemy.
Trying to defend the capital of the human empire now was suicide. They couldn't hope to bring down the remaining Forsworn as they were, they needed to prepare.
It was a sad truth, but one he knew, that Oromis knew. It was why the silver haired elf wasn't there at Doru Araeba, the home city of the Dragon Riders. he wouldn't be of any help the way he was.
If they wanted to beat the traitors now, patience and preparation was needed. They needed the traitors to grow lazy in their victory.
Though he'd prepared before, it only got him so far.
They say careful what you wish you for, though he was never the superstitious type. Perhaps he should've been.
The last few moments happened so quickly. He camped underneath the stars, enjoying the soft crackling of the camp fire. He just needed to get away from life, from the stresses of work, financial troubles and family issues.
He was only in his late twenties and his life was a mess. Though being by himself in the Australian outback, his worries slipped away. He grabbed a pile of fantasy books from his car, Lord of the Rings, The Inheritance Cycle and many others. He loved those books, where he could escape from this world to magical lands full of adventure.
He glanced up at the sky, and saw streaks of light flash across the sky, shooting stars. He smiled, it was so magical, truly a sight to behold. Sitting down next to the fire in his camp chair, he opened up the first Inheritance Cycle book.
He read the first two chapters, drinking in every word. He wished he could live in a fantasy realm, for his own worries to slip away.
Turning the page onto chapter three, a kangaroo jumped through the campsite. It came straight for him, he yelled and fell backwards on his chair as it passed and took off. He lost his grip on the book and it went up in the air, before falling straight into the camp fire.
"No!" He cried. He cursed, angry that he'd done something so stupid. Flames consumed the book. Though his eyes widened when he saw the colour of the flames change. The orange flames transformed into a storm grey. The flames suddenly surged high above the campsite, like someone had dumped a whole bunch of fuel on it.
He reared back from the intense heat, "What the hell?!"
Looking back at the tower of flames, he froze when it swirled like a tornado. He screamed when the swirling vortex of grey flames engulfed him. All he could see was the swirling flames, and the world around him disappeared.
The flames vanished. He gasped, scrambled to his feet, and he was greeted with an environment than he remembered being in. From the red sands of the outback, to a lush forest, situated on elevated ground, possibly on a hill or mountain. Nothing about it was familiar.
Then he remembered the weird fire event, he'd wasn't sure what happened, but he'd been enveloped by flames.
His clothes were fine. He wore a floral buttoned shirt and blue jeans, there was nothing that would indicate burns. Checking for injuries, he found none.
"What on earth?"
There was no pain, no blood, nothing. It didn't make any sense. Where was he? Why was he here? Didn't he get burnt by fire? And if so, shouldn't he be dead or in agonising pain? What happened exactly?
He paled, if he truly was burnt to death, would this mean he was in the afterlife? Or perhaps a dream? He hoped it was just a vivid dream.
"No, don't go assuming things." He told himself. He had no idea what was going on, but he was sure that he'd find out soon. But for that to happen, he needed to find out where he was, and where civilisation was.
Though that proved to be extremely difficult. All doubt that this was some kind of dream evaporated as the hunger and thirst set in after the first few hours of wandering. Hours turned to days, and simple confusion was quickly turning to desperation, especially as days were hot and unforgiving, and the mountainous terrain he found himself in was physically exhausting to traverse. For weeks he wandered, anxious to find someone or something, like a road. However any signs of civilisation eluded him. To satisfy his hunger and thirst, he used what little survival knowledge he had, foraging from bushes and trying to find sources of water. As day turned to night, the wind chilled him to the bone. He couldn't stop the chattering of his teeth or the shaking of his body as he tried to sleep.
He was beginning to lose track of the days as he desperately tried to find food to eat and something to drink. He'd been wandering for what he estimated to be about a month. His clothes were torn to shreds from constant trips and falls.
Though luck was on side one day after the exhausting hell that was travelling through the mountains. He'd burst out of a treeline, at the base of two mountains and he saw something that brought tears to his eyes, a dirt path!
He chose a direction and followed the dirt road. And soon he spotted someone coming in the opposite direction. He sprinted towards the only sign of life he'd come across since appearing in this strange place. When he got close, he saw that the individual was an old gentleman, wearing what seemed like medieval tunics and trousers, and he was riding on top of a damn wagon being pulled by a horse.
The wagon had stopped and he rushed up to the strange man.
"Thank heavens! You're a sight for sore eyes, sir. I've been stuck out here for weeks, I was starting to think I wouldn't find anyone out there." He said relieved.
Silence.
He frowned, and saw the man just looking at him with a blank look on his face. The man's gaze turned towards what Saul could only preserve as suspicion.
And the man responded after a minute, though the words were nothing he'd ever heard before, he didn't understand them.
He stared in shock, he couldn't believe it. He didn't want to believe it.
"Sir? Can you understand me? Do you speak English?" And the response was more foreign words.
A different language, he cursed his luck. It was clear that neither had a clue what the other was saying.
The man on the wagon eyed his clothes carefully, seeming almost confused at the intricate, complex nature of the clothing.
He changed gears, he couldn't communicate with the man, but he could at least get out his name.
"Saul." He said, pointing to himself numerous times.
The man slowly nodded. Communication would be difficult but at least he could convey his name.
"Svin." The man replied, pointing to himself.
After a couple of minutes, he finally managed to convey to Svin that he wished to accompany the man to wherever he was going.
Svin was hesitant, but begrudgingly gestured with his head for him to hop in the back of the wagon. He climbed in, careful to avoid the various bags full of grain. He turned when he heard Svin grunt and froze at the sight of a knife pointed at him. Svin made a gesture that he quickly understood.
'Don't try anything funny.'
And they were off, to where, Saul didn't know. They travelled for hours before a town came into view. Though it wasn't what he expected. Everyone there wore medieval clothes, and the houses were made of wood and they had thatched roofs of straw. Just where the hell was he?
The people around the town all took a few moments to stare at him and his clothing, he saw them glance at him with suspicion. It didn't help when he got off the wagon and the people around him spoke the same foreign tongue.
They steered clear of him, casting distrusting glances when they heard him speak. Days past, and he struggled to find something to eat or drink. He didn't have any money to give for food. The villagers of this strange primitive place left him small amounts of food outside their homes. The village had a well which he used to draw water.
This was his reality now, living on the fringes of a town that was stuck in the dark ages, unable to talk to the inhabitants and they steered clear of him. He was an outcast, surviving on the charitable scraps of others.
Depression, loneliness, words that couldn't even begin to encapsulate the feelings that stirred within him each and every day. The pain ripped apart his very soul.
Six months passed, he'd made himself a small hut on the outskirts of the village, the villagers were still hesitant to accept him. He didn't dare leave, for he didn't know what laid beyond the village, beyond the mountains. It made him wonder, would he die in this place? Would he be doomed to be unable to communicate and talk to people of the land? Would he be stuck here, grow old and pass away?
Death was something he feared, he didn't want to die, he didn't want to find out what await him on the other side, he wanted to be clear of the claws of death.
He awoke to the sound of a monstrous roar that echoed throughout the village. His heart raced and sweat dripped from his forehead. He rushed outside his small hut and thought that he'd finally lost his mind. Flying overhead was a bloody purple dragon! But that was impossible, dragons didn't exist! The sheer size left him in utter awe, he was an ant before the mighty boot.
It touched down outside the village, near his hut and the ground quaked with its arrival. He nearly fell over but manage to stabilise himself. A tiny human jumped off the back of the mighty beast, holding a bag in his arms. The inhabitants of the village rushed out, eagerly greeting the man and the dragon. He had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming.
He followed the villagers, they began to line up before the mysterious man who just rode in on a damn dragon. The man wore some of the finest clothing he'd seen, though it was comparable to medieval styled clothing. On his hip was a sheathed sword, the hilt had a purple gem embedded in it. The man pulled out a grey stone from his bag, and one by one, the villagers spent a few minutes each touching the stone. He decided to line up and see what this was all about, keeping his eye on the purple dragon.
He approached the storm grey stone, and it seemed to call to him, like a faint whisper in the back of his mind. The instant his hand brushed the surface of the egg, it cracked.
Suddenly he wasn't alone any more. A small grey dragon poked its snout through the egg and touched his left palm. An icy tingling pain shot through his body, before stopping as suddenly as it began. He glanced at his hand and paled. There was a mark there, a silver oval spiral. The mark of a Dragon Rider. Suddenly it all came together, he was in a fantasy world, the Inheritance Cycle.
He was immortal, he no longer aged thanks to the soul binding bond between a Dragon Rider and his dragon. Life seemed, brighter, happier now that he had bonded with his dragon, Aver. Decades passed as he was taught the way of the Riders. The language barrier was difficult at the start. It wasn't easy, he learnt their values, their culture, he absorbed it all. But it wasn't easy, his training took far longer than any normal Rider's.
Aver learned both the common tongue and the Ancient Language, the language of magic and relayed it to him, helping him learn so he could finally communicate with those around him. His mentor, an elf by the name of Thuviel, was kind and patient. He was forever grateful for the elf's commitment to his training.
Half a century helped him hone skills in all manner of weapons, he took to the bow and of course the sword as any Rider would. He was gifted a Rider's blade, a special sword forged by the legendary elven blacksmith, Rhunön, the only blacksmith alive that could create a blade worthy of the Riders. The blade was made from a unique metal called brightsteel. Each blade was coloured the same colour as the Rider's dragon, and it had enchantments to ensure that it stayed sharp and never broke. His sword was dubbed Dauthleikr, which was the word for mortal in the Ancient Language. Its storm grey blade was mesmerising to look at, yet it wouldn't help when the Fall came.
He'd read the books, he knew the future events that were to come. The Order of Riders was thriving and in its prime, and if he left events to unfold naturally, the continent of Alagaesia would be thrown into chaos, tens of thousands of people would die. A future human Rider by the name of Galbatorix would lose his dragon, and descend into madness from the loss and destruction of a bond that transcended any other relationship. And Galbatorix would bring about a century of tyranny as he ruled the land as king. The Order would be destroyed, and he and Aver would be in danger. Though Galbatorix only went mad when his dragon was killed by a race of ram like humanoids known as Urgals. Simply killing him before he turned down his dark pathwould be immoral and downright evil. Galbatorix didn't need to be destroyed, he needed to be saved.
Hewould still train himselfand prepare in case the worst should come to pass. He spent a lot of time focusing on the mental arts, being able to connect with the minds of all living beings. Attacking, communicating or defending from other mental probes, all with the mind. If he failed, he would need to be a master in defending his mind from others, and a master of assaulting minds.He needed to be strong, and he needed a weapon with range.
Riders fought up close and personal, even on the backs of their dragons, putting them in danger. It was difficult to fight with a sword on Aver's back, there was little reach. But because of the ancient and powerful enchantments placed upon the swords, they were the one of, if not the most effective weapons in a Rider's arsenal.
He performed many missions for the Order, missions of exploration, discovery and taking care of threats that arose throughout the land. Vrael, an elven Rider and the leader of the Order would send him on assignments where he'd be gone for years, though he constantly performed a spell that would allow him to watch the land, a technique known as scrying, to keep an eye out for when Galbatorix joined the Order. Though the drawback was that he had to know what Galbatorix looked like, so he closely monitored his fellow Riders, to glean information from them about all new Riders that came for training.
One mission saw him leave far north, to find and kill a bandit skilled in the art of magic. The bandit was causing a lot grief on northern settlements. It would be a long mission, so he used his spare time to train and prepare a weapon that he had in mind for some time.
Magic, he excelled at the mystical arts. He found a Yew tree and began to sing, forging a great bow. Islanzadi, the Queen of the Elves, had done the same for Eragon, so many years in the future. His voice sang great enchantments over it, giving it unbelievable strength and making sure the string never broke. He had four great gems, the limbs of the bow held two each, the gems entwined with the wood. Further enchantments were made, ones that took years to figure out and create. The song took two months to complete. He dubbed the bow Skölir, which meant shield, it would protect himself and Aver if he failed to save Galbatorix.
For decades, he gathered energy into gems in his bow, sword and the few he had entwined on his belt. Every day he trained, pushing his abilities to new heights. Discovering magic that one could only dream of.
After many successful missions, the Order made him an Elder after seeing his skills and abilities.
After gaining the title of Elder, he ventured out to the training grounds, to see the new Riders. Humans and elves were fighting against one another, honing their skills with the blade. He found his mentor, Thuviel, teaching a bunch of new students, these Riders were all children. Though one stood out above the rest, a boy who looked to be around ten. He easily showed up the other kids in whatever it was they were doing. The boy was now playing with his newly hatched dragon, whose scales were a rich violet. He could see the fierce love the boy had for his dragon.
"Who's that, ebrithil?" He asked Thuviel. He didn't need to call Thuviel ebrithil, he was on equal standing with the elf now, but it felt wrong not to. The elf had been his mentor, his master. To not call him master felt disrespectful.
The elf glanced at him, "Impressive, isn't he? He's quite talented and knowledgeable for one so young. His name is Galbatorix, and that's his dragon, Jarnunvösk."
That innocent boy was Galbatorix? He clenched his fists, he'd do his best to save the foolhardy boy from his arrogance.
He kept a close eye on Galbatorix over the years, the young man showed a lot of talent and skill for his age. Many Elders had concerns about Galbatorix's rise in power.
Vrael gave him another mission, a long one that would take him out to the race of Dwarves, he was to broker a trade deal. The Order wanted to expand, to accommodate an ever growing amount of Riders. Galbatorix was now eighteen, nearing completion of his training. Saul figured that he'd be around in time before the young Rider finished his training at the age of nineteen.
Though the mission he expected to take a few months dragged out, with complications in the trade deal regarding supplies. And there were issues that cropped up within Dwarven territory that required his assistance. He scryed Galbatorix, to contact him and see how he was. And he was horrified to find out that Galbatorix had finished his training.
"Saul-Elda, I'm venturing north in the Spine with two other Riders." Galbatorix said, using the honorific, as was the custom of the elves and the Riders.
"NO! Don't! It's dangerous head north in the Spine." He frantically said. He pleaded with the young Rider not to go.
Galbatorix scoffed, "I'm a prodigy and a Dragon Rider. With my power, we'll be fine."
"You don't understand, please listen-" He stopped as Galbatorix cut the connection.
He apologised to his Dwarven hosts and rushed off as fast as Aver could fly to reach Galbatorix in time.
But he was too late, Galbatorix's dragon had been killed by Urgals and he began his descent into madness. He and Aver flew across the mountains, searching the Spine for Galbatorix. It took days, but he came eventually found the young Rider stumbling through the forest, starving and weak. Landing nearby, he dismounted Aver and rushed to Galbatorix's side. The young man collapsed in his arms, tears streamingfrom his eyes, he was nearly dead with wounds across his body.The sight broke Saul's heart, he couldn't understand the anguish of losing your dragon. It was something that no Rider or dragon should ever experience. He cast spells to heal Galbatorix.
The young Rider passed out from exhaustion andgrief. He place Galbatorix on Aver's back and began the trip back to Doru Araeba. He heard Galbatorix wake up behind him. He glance back to check on young man, and he was met with a defeated Galbatorix. There was no life in the Rider's eyes, he didn't even notice Saul staring at him, Galbatorix simply wasn't 'there'. It was hard to imagine that a man who loved his dragon passionately could become the most cruel and evil Rider the world had ever know. Though it wouldn't happen if he could help it.
Upon returning Doru Araeba, Galbatorix immediately retreated to his living quarters. For days, the former Rider didn't leave his room, he didn't eat or drink. Saul grew concerned for Galbatorix's mental and physical well-being. He took food and water to the young Rider's room.
Knocking softly on the door, he waited with baited breath. There was no response. Slowly testingthe door, he found it was unlocked. He entered the room, finding Galbatorix sitting at the end of his bed, gazing intently at his violet Rider's blade. He placed the food and water on the bed next to Galbatorix. Still no response, no acknowledgement he was even there. He found a seat across from the bed and sat down. He didn't say a word, merely waiting in silence.
After an hour of sitting there, Galbatorix finally moved and slowly ate the food and finished off the water. Galbatorix still didn't say anything, going back to staring at his sword. Saul smiled a little, it was a little acknowledgement at least.
He continued to bring food and water everyday for a month. He would sit in the same spot, Galbatorix would take the food and water and stare at his sword. Finally after a month, Galbatorix finally broke the silence.
"...These blades are meant to reflect the beauty of our dragons," Galbatorix whispered, "But this blade will never match her beauty."
He nodded sadly, "No, it can't. But it can serve as a reminder of her, and of your time together. At least you'll have precious memories."
Galbatorix then did something that shocked him, he threw the sword across the room. It bounced off the stone walls and clattered to the floor.
"I don't want a reminder of her!" Galbatorix snapped in fury, "I want her to be here."
The young man clutched his head in hands, Saul got up, went over and brought Galbatorix into a comforting hug. The man shook in his arms, sobbing and crying loudly.Galbatorix finally broke out of the hug, a slightly deranged look appeared in his eyes.
"I can feel a hole in my very soul, where she used to be. I'm incomplete without her! This pain, I feel hollow inside!" He yelled.
"Please calm-"
"I can't live like this," He frantically clutched his head, tears streaming down his face, "This pain, this emptiness, I can't stand it!"
"Galbatorix, calm down."
The young Rider ignored him, his movements were becoming more erratic around the room.
"Only a dragon can fill the void in my heart..." Galbatorix paused. He whirled around and fell to his knees, desperation in his eyes.
"I need another dragon."
Saul paled, he knew nothing good would come out of this line of thinking.
"You can't-" He was cut off.
"Please! Summon the Elders."
He hesitated, "You know that you can't-"
"Please..."
He sighed, Galbatorix wouldn't listen, not unless he was before the Elders. He agreed to a meeting, though he was apprehensive of whatthe outcome would be.
The Elders had gathered within the week, there were twenty-five in total, including himself. The sat in a council room, a large semi-circle table filled the room. Vrael sat in the middle of the table, regal and gave off an aura of power that commanded respect. He sat to Vrael's left, and on the right was Oromis, a silver haired elven Rider, an important figure in future events. Galbatorix stood in the centre of the room.
"You want another dragon?" Vrael said.
The Elders around the table began whispering to one another, all sharing concerned looks. Galbatorix stood resolute, with a firm determination. Though Saul could see that slight glint in his eye, one that showed how unstable he was. He tapped his foot, nervous. Galbatorix was at the end of his tether, it wouldn't take much to push him over the edge. Unfortunately, 'giving' another dragon was out of the question.
Vrael sighed, "That is no simple matter, I hope you understand we can't just 'give' you a dragon."
"Why? Why can't I have another dragon? You all sit here with your dragons, you don't know the pain of having a piece of your soul ripped from you! To have the only one you love taken!" Galbatorix snarled. "It's not fair!"
Silence reigned in the room.
"Dragons choose their Riders, we all know this." One Elder finally said. Galbatorix bore daggers into that Elder.
"Yes, dragons hatch and bond to the Rider of their choosing. I suppose theoretically, a dragon could hatch for you again, but this has never happened in the entire history of our order." Vrael said.
"The other option would be to commita most disgusting act, forcing a 'bond' through twistedmagic." Another Elder added.
"How can I be a Dragon Rider if I have no dragon? I need a dragon to fill this void within me. And so I perform my duties as a Rider." Galbatorix said, he was stubborn and wouldn't give up once he set his mind on something.
"We shall… consider." Vrael said.
Saul felt the multiple tendrils of thought approaching his mind, all the Elders would make their decision now, privately within their minds.
Before anything could be decided, Oromis spoke.
'My brothers and sisters, I urge you all to vote against giving Galbatorix another dragon. I touched his mind, I could sense the madness lurking within his heart.'
Every Elder gave pause at Oromis's words. He could feel each of them touching the young Rider's mind, and finding that Galbatorix's mind was indeed clouded in madness and grief.
It became clear what the vote would be. He hoped that Galbatorix could still be saved even when rejected by the Order.
'Are we in agreement, Galbatorix will be refused?' Vrael asked. The answer was unanimous, no one would risk even trying to give another dragon to a mad man.
"Galbatorix, I'm sorry. But the council has rejected your request. You will not be given another dragon." Vrael said evenly.
"The loss of Jarnunvöskis horrible. The pain you are going through is unimaginable. But a new dragon will not ease that pain." Oromis said.
Galbatorix faltered, and Saul gleamed from his mind that he felt betrayed, that was the tipping point. Galbatorix stiffened, he didn't say a word as he stormed out, though his eyes burned with anger.
He rushed after Galbatorix when the meeting was finished, to try reason with him and to save him. Though he was horrified to hear that Galbatorix had vanished. He held onto the dwindling hope that Galbatorix wouldn't lose himself to his insanity and sorrow. Though it seemed less and less likely.
Then after two months had passed, and word soon reached to all the Elders. Galbatorix had entered the capital city, Ilirea, killed a Rider and took the Rider's dragon. Other Riders quickly left to join him. How could he have let everything go so wrong?
Months went by, Riders and dragons dying by the dozen, no one could find the traitors to stop them. The traitors were killing Riders and their dragons on Galbatorix's order. The traitors did something so immoral, so reprehensible, taking something from many of the dragon's corpse, an Eldunari, a dragon's heart of hearts, a majestic gem containing the soul the dragon. The traitors following Galbatorix were now dubbed as the Forsworn.
"Saul, I'm venturing out to see what is happening in our Order and hopefully put an end to this." Oromis said. Oromis flew out on the back of his golden dragon, Glaedr.
Formora and Kialandi, two elven Riders,went with him on their dragons. Now was the time to strike out, the Order was falling to pieces and he needed to act. Those would be traitors were impossible to make a move against, he couldn't strike out against those that had yet to do wrong. But now, he could take them out.
He followed the group, making sure they knew nothing of his presence.
And so the traitors turned on Oromis and Glaedr, pinning them in place with magic once they were alone.
He stayed high in the air, the distance granting him and his dragon safety.
His fingers drew forth an arrow and pulled back the string of Skölir, the enchantments of the bow working their magic, giving the arrow power.
"Brisingr" He said, invoking the power of fire. And the arrow flew towards its target in a flash. The grey flames leaving behind a streak in the air as it closed in on the enemy.
Formora saw it too late, the arrow struck her wards and exploded in a massive house sized fireball of destruction.
He sent a barrage of arrows at the Forsworn. Kialandi and Formora were thrown about the battlefield, their dragons also being thrown around from the force of the explosions. Oromis used the distraction to break free of the spells binding him and Glaedr down.
And Oromis unleashed his full power upon the Forsworn. Kialandi's wards soon failed him as he couldn't keep up with the two Elders. Taking aim once more, he let fly the arrow that ended Kialandi's life.
It struck his neck, exploding and leaving nothing behind. Glaedr ended his dragon quickly, breaking its spine.
Formora couldn't hold out against Oromis's onslaught and fled. Her dragon was too nimble and quick to catch. Her eyes met his, instead of hatred, there was curiosity. She turned to Oromis and cast a spell that bypassed his wards and caused him to erupt in a huge spasm, he and Aver immediately rushed to Oromis's side, doing everything he could to help stop the spasm.
He tried his best to help his friend but he didn't know how to undo what Formora had done. Soon though, Oromis's fit calmed down. In the books, Oromis had been crippled by both traitors, unable to draw upon his magic without severe consequences. He didn't know if Oromis was crippled or not, but one thing he did know was that Glaedr still emerged from the conflict with his leg intact, which he was supposed to lose in the battle. A great advantage for the future. He was glad to have helped out the golden dragon, he just hoped his efforts wouldn't be in vain.
Doru Araeba, the home of the Riders on the island of Vroengard. Well over two hundred Riders and their dragons dotted the skies, pitted against twelve traitors. The Forsworn's dark magic quickly overcoming those he called friends. Soon there was only a few dozen left. The dragons had been enraged when they saw those they called their own friends and kin betrayed and attacked them. During the assault, the dragons came together and cast a spell of banishing, all sense of individuality was lost to the Forsworn's dragons, their names obliterated from everyone's minds and they became like normal beasts. The traitors lashed out in even greater fury when they felt the effects of the dragon's magic.
Three Forsworn chased him through the skies. Aver kept distance between them, never letting them close in, twisting rapidly in the air to allow him to fire off shots with his bow.
It proved to be an effective weapon, as the enemy had no bows with such powerful enchantments to combat him with, they had to try close the gap, or try cast spells and blast him from the sky. Arrows weren't as effective without the powerful enchantments bound to Skölir.
As Aver turned, he fired an arrow that sparked with lightning. Striking a brown dragon in the eye, finally getting past the Rider's wards. The dragon roared in pain and seized up, falling from the sky, the Rider tried to stop it but could do nothing as he crushed underneath his partner.
Another traitor defeated, after relentless attacks, the cursed wards had fallen. He never understood how the Riders truly lost, with well over a thousand Riders with wards built up over the centuries, until now. The dark magics Galbatorix and his minions had employed during the war were nigh unbeatable, easily destroying wards, like they had been erected by an amateur. And the traitor's own wards were fuelled by the power of dragons, both wild and bonded dragons, with dragons slain in the conflict even now, their heart of hearts were stolen and their minds shattered , subdued. The dragon's power increasing the Forsworn's while the Order's dwindled during throughout every battle.
Early in the conflict, the traitors used hit and run tactics, not being powerful enough to oppose the entire Order openly, well over a thousand strong. But Alagaesia suffered, the traitors attacking the various races and empires, forcing the Order's Riders to fly forth and protect the innocents of the land and investigate the strange attacks. Riders would be singled out, cut off and disposed off.
The traitors soon came out into the open, raided entire city states and gained the allegiance of the everyone inside, their armies and magicians falling under the traitors' control, perhaps ensuring the defeat of the Order. Magicians helped slay dozens of Riders, making it easier for the traitors to harvest the Eldunari and increase their own power.
Wild dragons scattered everywhere were also slain until it was but the Riders left.
And now, the Riders made their final stand in Doru Araeba, it was their last chance to turn the tides. The traitors saw him as a major threat, Formora and Morzan chased him down, the Order busy handling the immense power of the other traitors couldn't help him.
Morzan's dragon quickly changed direction, like a vulture, his dragon dove towards his fallen comrade. Formora launched spells at him, though Aver easily evaded all attacks thrown at them. Since birth, he made sure his dragon was nimble and aerobatic, able to pull off complex manoeuvres for this exact purpose. Despite being a monstrous creature due to his age, he was still very quick and agile compared to other dragons his age or size.
Knocking an arrow, he aimed between the Elf's brown eyes, and let loose the arrow of death. Formora knew what his arrows were capable of and her brown dragon dove to avoid it. It still manage to clip its tail, the magic unleashed from it, spikes of ice erupted against the duo's wards, though it didn't break through, they shattered, falling to earth below. He could see the Elf's brow raise at seeing the attack. He employed unorthodox magics like them, it kept him unpredictable, and more of a target. They tried to breach his mental defences but they were rock solid, Galbatorix and his followers had to lash out at everyone's minds at once, to try break their defences and prevent anyone from breaching their own minds. Focusing on one individual put them at risk of another powerful Rider and his dragon from striking their minds while they tried to assault others.
Formora recovered quickly from the attack and pressed her assault. Morzan soon joined her once again, a new Eldunari in his hands.
'Disgusting, taking the Eldunari of their brethren.' He thought. His blood boiled at the sight of an Eldunari in the hands of the Red Rider.
Their fight continued, trading blows across the heavens, their duel was quickly interrupted when a massive blue dragon slammed into Morzan and his nameless beast unexpectedly, they tumbled out of the sky, trying to rip each other apart. Crashing into the ground, the dragons tumbled across the dirt, the Riders quickly dismounted their dragons and met each other in a fierce battle of swords and magic.
His blood ran cold when he realised who it was.
'Brom.' A human Rider and father to Eragon.
Their duel would only end one way, Brom would be left a broken man for the rest of his life as a connection transcending time would be severed forever, Morzan would kill his dragon, Saphira. He had to help. But he had to shake Formora first.
'Aver! Ascend above the clouds! When I launch my arrow, dive!' And his best friend shot up, the traitor following closely behind.
They went higher and higher, the battlefield quickly shrinking in the distance. He could see the curiosity burning in Formora's eyes, what was he going to do next?
Disappearing into a cloud, he drew forth an arrow, he whispered in the Ancient Language, casting the spell that he trusted would slow down Formora significantly.
Bursting through the top of the cloud, he waited for a few seconds before releasing the arrow, watching it rocket down, Aver went into a steep dive, he only caught a glimpse of Formora breaching the cloud and the arrow about to hit her face as they entered cloud cover again. A monstrous flash of light erupted, through the sound of the wind, he could hear her and her dragon screaming.
He smiled, being on the receiving end of a flash bang inspired enchantment couldn't be pleasant.
He put away his bow and redirected his focus to the battle raging below, he soon spotted the ones he was after.
What he saw wasn't good, Morzan was utterly dominating his opponent. Brom stood in front of his dragon, protecting her as Saphira was struggling to hang on to life, limping away. Morzan's beast was holding off another dragon and Rider who had tried to come to Brom's aid. Morzan blasted Brom with magic, sending the young man soaring through the air, towards the Rider who was fighting the red beast. Morzan slowly advanced on the downed dragon.
He knew this was it, the moment when Morzan struck down Brom's Saphira.
Casting his mind to her, he quickly established connection with her.
'Saphira! When I say, dislodge your Eldunari!'
'W-what?' She didn't know.
He quickly projected images in her head, showing her what to do and conveying what it meant through thought, there was no time to explain with words.
Aver was closing the gap quickly, the steep dive bringing them closer to the ground, he had to time this right. Morzan lifted his sword, Zar'roc, high above Saphira's head, ready to end her life. He readied his magic.
'Now!' And Morzan struck as Saphira spat out a blue coloured gem from her maw. Time slowed, as Zar'roc pierced her flesh and into her brain, Morzan's head started to swivel, attracted to the sight of an Eldunari.
"Thrysta!" Thrust. And the gem flew high up in the air, straight into his waiting hands. He quickly tucked it away on his person. Aver snapped out his wings and levelled off, and started to gain altitude, speeding away from Morzan, when it suddenly hit, someone was throwing everything they had at him, putting their own mind at risk.
Like a tsunami, their minds were assaulted, dozens upon dozens of minds raged at them with a single, sane mind guiding them. The walls guarding their minds were being crushed fast. The agonizing pain of having his mind ripped apart was unfathomable. The focus, the precision were all gone and they froze, stunned, as their minds were soon invaded by the overwhelming foreign force. Organizing a proper defence was impossible as monster brown dragon slammed into them and rammed them into the ground, tearing the earth asunder under the force of the blow. He was flung from his saddle on Aver's back.
He screamed as a hot agonizing pain tore through his body. His shaking orbs glanced at his left arm, it was facing the opposite direction, the bone having ripped through the skin, blood flowing out freely on the ground.
Another assault to his mind, stripping away more protections he had weaved to protect it, he thrashed about in pain as he couldn't hold the enemy back, the enemy forcefully interrupted the connection between him and Aver to prevent them from forming any resistance.
Thinking clearly was barely possible, but even through the pain, he was able to focus on one thing, a figure stood over him as he lay there, he took in her flowing brown hair, her high cheek bones, slanted eyes, her perfect face, making her a beauty to rival Islanzadi, Formora.
She knelt beside him, her face once again showing her curiosity as she gazed into his eyes and studied his face.
"You aren't like the others." She whispered. "One of the greatest threats we have faced, your magic is so unpredictable, it's frustrating. Though even more than that, you're just different."
She brought a hand up to caress his face, while her other hand placed her sword above his heart and pressed down, meeting resistance thanks to the wards still in place, though they were dwindling fast.
"Throughout your time in the Order, you had an aura of power about you and your eyes spoke of great knowledge. And you wield a bow against us, a most powerful and curious weapon." She stroked his face in an oddly intimate way, all the while her sword was poised to strike his heart, he didn't understand.
"You caught my attention the moment you joined our insufferable Order. Rumours were that a man in some backwater village had become a Rider, he would rave about in a never before heard language. This man wore alien clothing that no one had ever seen before."
What was she saying?
"I sought you out, my curiosity peaked, it isn't often that something causes such a disturbance within the Order. Many of the Elders spent years trying to teach you, I watched from afar as your dragon learned all the languages of the land and imparted them to you. You couldn't speak anything. Where were you from? What language did you speak? Never found the answers to my questions. But now I will, before I end you."
She leaned forward and whispered. "Who are you?"
The intensity of the mental attack increased, tearing his mind apart and viewing his memories, the mind could process years of information in the span of a few minutes. He howled in pain as she forced her way deeper into his mind, viewing all memories she came across. Aver was pinned down by her dragon, writhing in pain as his mind was also violated.
Formora couldn't be allowed deeper, she couldn't see his knowledge he has held onto for close to two centuries, the knowledge of this world and its future, of his previous life and of the discoveries he made studying magic.
Her probe attacked once more, like a hammer driving a nail straight into his skull. And memories he had held dear rushed for her to see, memories that could change everything, she saw his past, his family, and the pain of losing it all. Memories locked in the deepest reaches of his mind.
Her shock was immeasurable, she poured over the memories, taking it all in. Cars, skyscrapers, technology the likes of which the world had never seen, things that would be seen as other worldly here. His childhood, his family, his friends, the times he laughed with them, the times cried with them, the times he got angry with them, she saw so much. So, so much...HOW. DARE. SHE.
She violated him and attacked him in a way no one had ever done before. Never before had someone known him so deeply besides Aver, never had someone seen him so vulnerable.
His throat constricted and tears blurred his vision, his heart pumped faster than ever before and he let out a cry of anguish and sorrow.
Strength born from sorrow and anger slammed into her mind, forcing her back just enough to connect with Aver, to strengthen their defences and to make a desperate plea for help.
'Saphira… Please.' His thoughts a hoarse whisper in the void, reaching out for a dragon still recovering from having her body destroyed.
Two minds joined, both strengthening their minds and pushing Formora back.
Not just Saphira, but through their connection, Brom as well. He took the moment of respite from the attack
'Aver.'
'Yes?' His partner's thoughts were shaky, the torture having taken quite a toll on both of them.
'Are…are you alright?' He couldn't bear the idea of his soul partner being injured in such a way.
He was silent, 'No, I'm not. My mind was subdued, before her, there were few secrets. And I had to watch as she ransacked your mind, picking it apart for her enjoyment, to satisfy her desire of knowledge. I'm not okay. And because of what she did, neither will she.'
He couldn't help but smile, 'We strike together.'
Aver agreed, 'Together.'
And their minds entwined, merging as one and pushed back against the enemy, she struggled to hold her ground against two dragons and two Riders, he could feel other Riders across the battlefield trying to attack her own mind at the same time as well.
A final push and she was expelled, mental barriers were quickly rebuilt.
The outside world came back into focus, Formora fell backwards on the ground, clutching her head.
'Brom and I will do our best to keep her distracted, at most, we can buy you a minute.' Saphira said.
A minute was all he needed, the words to heal his arm flowed from his lips.
'Thank you, Saphira.'
'No, thank you.' Her feelings were clear, he'd saved Brom from insanity, from the heartache of losing his soul bound partner. He'd saved her from death and given them a chance to live on together.
But she wasn't out of danger yet, with his arm healed, he gathered his magic, all his might, Formora would pay for what she did.
No words were needed, he stretched out his right hand, and the beast pinning his partner was blasted back, Aver quickly scrambled to his feet and engaged the mindless creature.
He drew his blade, Dauthleikr would taste blood this day.
Formora was already on her feet and drew her own brown blade just in time to block his furious strike.
Brightsteel met brightsteel, and the paid no attention to the world around him, his sole focus on cutting down the elf before him. He launched his own mental attack, slamming against her mind and attempting to drill through her barriers. Saphira and Brom never ceased their own assault on her mind. They danced the dance of death, their blades a whirlwind of destruction but neither of them could beat the other.
He'd saved his magical strength to last the duration of the battle, relying on the gems in his bow to fuel his attacks. But now, he was going to give it his all to kill her, for in this very moment, she was potentially more dangerous than Galbatorix himself, the knowledge she potentially had, he didn't know the extent of what she managed to see but she was a risk, one that had to be put down.
But he never got the chance.
'The battle is lost, Vrael has been defeated, he is fleeing the battle. Prepare yourselves, my fellow Riders. It is time.' Thuviel said in his mind. An image showed them what he was about to do. His mentor had lost his dragon before this battle, and Thuviel wanted nothing more than to kill himself. If Vrael lost his battle against Galbatorix and the fight was impossible to win, Thuviel would finally get the peace he desperately craved, he would convert himself into a bomb with magic.
He shoved the Formora back and sprinted to his dragon as fast as he could, who'd also disengaged his fight from Formora's dragon.
He jumped on Aver's back. Aver immediately took to the skies. Only fifteen Riders remained and they were trying to retreat. He saw Brom had managed to find another Rider and was escaping with them in the distance.
'Quick Saul! We need wards!' Aver roared.
'I know! I know! Saphira, I need a hand now!' He yelled frantically, they only had moments to prepare for what was to come.
She and Aver instantly gave their power to him and he quickly cast spells necessary to protect themselves, even drawing power from the gems in his bow and sword to help fuel the wards.
On the island, a tiny speck of light grew brighter and brighter before it erupted in a flash of light that blinded him temporarily, the shock waves of the explosion could be felt, nearly overcoming their barriers. He yelled with the effort of maintaining the wards needed to keep them safe. The explosion had thrown Aver so far away from the island.
Soon they were able to look at Vroengard. And they were speechless, it was gone, the city, everything. Thuviel converted himself into a magic bomb of nuclear proportions.
He fought back tears as the place he called home was destroyed... forever, and the elf who mentored him, dead.
The traitor Glaerun was dead, that left ten Riders left among the Forsworn from the original thirteen, he having personally killed two of them.
It was finished, the war was technically over. The Order, gone. Vrael was either dead or retreating with Galbatorix hot on his tail, his fate was sealed and only a few other Riders remained, those that weren't killed in Thuviel's blast would die in the last battle for the capital, where the Elf King, Evandar, would be struck down and the armies of Elf, Dwarf and Man would be defeated. He'd nearly died and lost Aver, he wasn't going to join his doomed comrades in the last battle with the Forsworn, their survival was more important.
Aver's survival was more important.
He wouldn't give that up for anything.
All that planning, all that preparation of trying to save Galbatorix and prevent this whole tragedy in the first place, failed.
They needed to prepare, to regain their strength. And train Eragon when the day comes, he might be the only one capable of finishing the fight.
Eragon could have at Galbatorix and try to save the world, Brom could have at Morzan and avenge Saphira's body. But Formora, Formora was his to kill.
'The traitors will surely move on the capital next.' Aver growled.
'We will head to Ellesmera.' Aver looked back at him in shock.
'But, the others! We can't let them fight by themselves while we go the elven capital!' Aver roared, he was taken aback at the sheer rage Aver was feeling.
He sighed, 'The Order has been destroyed. Any Rider remaining will die in the battle for Ilirea. It's suicide. We don't have the necessary strength to face the traitors. The traitors don't know we're alive, we can retreat and consolidate power.'
'Run away?! Our kind is being massacred and you would have us hide like cowards?!'
'I will not have us rush into a fight we cannot hope to survive! I will not let them kill you!' He snapped. 'What good would come of joining a doomed battle?'
Aver remained silent, he hated the idea of fleeing but was touched that he would see to his survival.
'Saphira, inform Brom to head to Ellesmera, so that you two may be reunited again.' If there was one good thing that came from the battle for Doru Araeba, it was Saphira's survival. Glaedr had his leg and Oromis… he prayed the elf wasn't crippled. Glaedr would be able to defend Oromis better regardless. This would help immensely in the future.
The female dragon said nothing but he could feel her mind reach out for her partner of heart and soul.
With great reluctance, Aver flew to Ellesmera. He healed the dragons wounds as they flew.
'What else can we do?' He said eventually, there wasn't any other option, the traitors wouldn't let them get away a second time, they'd hunt them down and kill them. There would be no escaping them if he entered that battlefield.
Aver didn't respond and continued flying, it was nice flying so casually like this. No worries of godlike Riders trying to kill you, just the wind against his skin and the company of his best friend, listening to the calming sound of his beating wings. He decided to try lift Aver's spirits, and Saphira's, she'd been silent for the whole trip, he didn't blame her. The trauma of seeing and feeling your body being destroyed, it was a lot to deal with.
'Aver, Saphira, do you want to play a game?' He felt their intrigue.
'Been some time since I've ever indulged in something like that, why not? Maybe I'll even win this time around.' Aver grumbled. He smirked, Aver always lost these games and he wasn't a good sport about it, never taking defeat gracefully.
'I like games.' Saphira said.
He smiled, engaging in verbal games was always fun with a dragon. Centuries ago, he used to play verbal games with his family all the time, it helped to pass the time.
'Let's play twenty questions.'
'And what are the rule to 'twenty questions'?' Saphira asked.
'One player thinks of a person, place or thing everyone knows. The others have to guess and they had a combined total of twenty questions they are allowed to ask in order to figure out what the other player is thinking of. The answers to those questions can only be yes or no. Whoever guesses first gets the point, or if we run out of questions, the player thinking gets the point.' Aver explained, having played this game a few times in the past.
Saphira was a little excited at a mental challenge.
'I'll go first.' He said, letting the dragons guess first.
'Are you thinking of a… person?' Aver guessed.
'No.'
'Are you thinking of an animal?' Saphira, he gave them a mental nod.
The game continued for a few hours, the three of them enjoying themselves thoroughly. And currently he and Aver were stuck with Saphira's turn.
'So recap, your a historical figure born in a war period?' Aver asked, he could feel the desperation to get this one, he and Aver were tied while Saphira was winning. Aver didn't want to lose again.
'Yes.'
'And you were best friends with an elf?' Aver asked.
Just then it clicked, 'Bid'Daum!'
Saphira chuckled, 'Yes.'
'So I… lost… again?' Aver said in disbelief. He let loose a roar of frustration of having lost the game once again.
He and Saphira laughed.
Saphira gloated in her victory, 'And to a first timer. That was fun. Thank you, Saul.'
'Pleasure.'
It helped pass the time and take their thoughts off the slaughter they'd been apart of a few days prior.
Ellesmera soon came into view, it was a place of fantastic, timeless beauty. There wasn't a more beautiful place in all of Ellesmera. He was already allowed into the city, having been here and cleared before the ancient elf that guarded the place before many years ago.
Elves all gathered below as they circled a clearing near the throne room. They all stared in awe and wonder, dragons never ceasing to capture their attention.
Aver landed, his weight shaking the ground slightly. He lowered himself to the ground. Quickly dismounting Aver, he was greeted by a few dozen elves watching him curiously, some were relieved, another Dragon Rider was alive and other with concern, his clothes were destroyed, his entire body caked in blood and dirt, Aver not look much better himself. It wasn't something he took note of during the battle It wouldn't be long before the whole city knew of his survival and arrival.
He went over to the throne room, and entered. Two people were present in the room, Oromis and an elven woman, with long raven black hair, wearing a red tunic and a mantle made of swan feathers, a woman of immense beauty, Islanzadi.
Oromis noticed his presence and his eyes widened, a soft smile at seeing another Rider, though his eyes held great sadness. Islanzadi was weeping in front of a mirror.
He didn't say a word when he stopped before them, the elven queen having just heard the news, Evandar was dead. The Order had fallen.
Oromis pulled her into a soft hug to comfort her. The queen wept and howled for hours, and Oromis continued to support her, and he stood silently.
Finally, she looked at him with blood shot eyes, tears staining her face and still flowing freely. She sniffed, "Saul. You're a pleasant sight during these dark times. Forgive me, I just received word my mate has been slain by the traitor, Galbatorix." Her voice hoarse.
He bowed and gave her the respected greeting she deserved, especially in a time like this.
"Islanzadi-Dröttning, I'm sorry for your loss. Evander was a great king and friend. I came to inform you that the Order was crushed at Vroengard. I was hoping to seek refuge here my lady." He said softly, Evandar was truly a great elf. He became friends with him and Islanzadi in his many visits to Ellesmera during the course of his fifty years training. He'd heard of Arya's birth as the Fall began reaching its climax. She would only be baby right now, poor thing would never know her father, the war claiming his life and countless others.
Islanzadi struggled to get the words out between her sobs, "Of course, you are welcome here. Please, take any accommodation you see fit."
He inclined his head, "Thank you, my lady."
He rested his hand on her shoulder to comfort her, "I'm truly sorry, if you or your daughter ever need anything in future, don't hesitate to ask."
She couldn't bring herself to smile and settled for a nod,
He turned to Oromis, "One other thing, Brom is alive. He should arrive in Ellesmera in a few weeks time."
The elf grabbed his arm, his eyes holding a spark of hope and an ocean of concern, "Is he unharmed? What about Saphira?"
Not answering, he pulled out a large sapphire coloured gem. Oromis gasped. He gently put Saphira is her mentor's hands.
"Morzan destroyed her body. I informed Saphira of her Eldunari and to disgorge it. I snatched it before the traitor got his hands on it."
Oromis began to cry, tears fell onto the gem before looking at him again.
"Thank you Saul, you don't know how much this means to me, and to Brom most of all. You've done so much for the Order. With you and Brom as the last pillars of strength for our Order, perhaps there is hope of its return."
'Thank you Saul. I cannot begin to tell you how much I appreciate what you've done. Brom was confused but happy beyond measure to know I was still alive during the battle.' Saphira said.
"No need to thank me." He said, happy he could at least give them a chance to really live life together.
He bid his farewells, leaving the queen to mourn her lover with Oromis to comfort her.
Several hours had passed when he returned to his partner. There was no need for words, they wandered through the city before heading north, outside the boundaries of Ellesmera.
After three hours of walking, they found a place, secluded and hidden in deep foliage. A big enough clearing for them while being hidden away from everyone.
A small stream provided fresh water as it snaked its way back to Ellesmera.
Aver slumped on the ground and he followed suit, leaning against Aver's neck.
They didn't say anything, the exhaustion finally catching up to them.
This was their home now, for the foreseeable future. He would have to prepare even more, train harder for the day he would face the traitors once again. He had to face them, as a Rider it was his duty, for Alagaesia and all innocents slain. Aver's life was at risk every moment they drew breath, they would killed or enslaved when Galbatorix discovers the Name. Hiding would only last so long. He fought for Aver and he would continue to oppose them for him. And to avenge all the friends he lost in the fall.
Closing his eyes, he sighed. A gentle breeze passed by, it was… nice, the soft singing of birds that peacefully sat in the trees. The trickling of the stream. Ellesmera… It was so tranquil here, everyday passes by in an instant while surrounded by magical forest, time has no meaning. A stark change to the combat he spent the last few years being a part of.
And he was the only one left to enjoy such peace. He couldn't stop the trembling, his throat tightened and his vision blurred.
After holding back for so long, he couldn't hold the tears back any longer. His mournful tears lasted well into the night.