Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the Inheritance Cycle.
I'm back with a vengenace! I just took a short break before typing all of this in less than three days. Anyway, while this is sort of my version of Brisingr, it's going to run a bit differently. First of all, we might actually be back in Ellesmera sooner than expected. There's still going to be a dwarven coronation, of course. And many other side-missions comprised of different Rider teams to compensate for many of the adventures in Brisingr not taking place in my version... if you have any suggestions about what these mini missions may be, feel free to drop by and tell me!
Bloodforge
Himeria knelt behind the Forsworn, side by side with Isilude. She kept her head bowed, though at least that prevented her from looking up at the king's cruel face, his jet-black hair, and those unsettling violet eyes. She cast her lot with him, but that didn't mean that she had to like him. It was just that she would have a better chance at survival. Especially now that she wasn't the only precious thing that she had to protect.
"Ah, it is good to see you gathered today," Galbatorix said thoughtfully in that high, cold voice of his. "My friends, both old and new, prepared to help me in ushering a new age of prosperity, and the rise of the greatest Riders to bless the land of Alagaesia. We shall put the misguided men and elves in their places, and flush the barbaric dwarves out of the caverns! But first, there is the important matter of the Varden. Brom has managed to protect and have their dragon eggs hatched. And that traitor of yours, Morzan…"
Morzan visibly flinched. "Forgive me, Highness. It will not happen again."
"As you know you should. Now, we have more pressing matters to deal with. I do not wish to kill Riders anymore, now that we have wiped out all that have succumbed to corruption and decadence. These new Riders are young and malleable, like Himeria and Isilude here."
Himeria kept herself from flinching, drawing from Volsalaarum's strength.
"I want to see if we could make them come of their own accord. Once the Varden decides to attack us, they will surely be there. I do not know if they managed to hatch the other eggs, but be prepared for any eventuality. Let them challenge you. Show them the power of the gifts I have bestowed upon you. Will must impress our might upon them. They might resist at first. Leave them. If word is true, and they wield stolen blades of our grand order, take them. Let them know that they will be allowed to wield their weapons once I see fit."
Insilbeth cleared her throat. "My Lord, if I may ask… why not take them by force? You know that we are more than capable of doing so."
Enduriel nodded thoughtfully. "She is right. I do not see why we must leave them. Any time not spent with your tutelage might sway them more in favor of the filthy Varden."
"It is not our place to question the Great King's will," hissed Morzan.
Galbatorix laughed coldly. "If they do not come to us within a month after their defeat, we shall take them. It is easier to have willing pupils than more… spirited ones." Himeria could not see, but she was sure that he was staring at Isilude, who feigned ignorance. The young man had a faithful king's man for a father, but he seemed more reluctant. If that was the right word.
Chapter 1: Passing on the Flame of Hope
Feeling the caressing warmth of the early morning sun, Eragon's eyes flitted open. He was curled up on his bedroll, sore from the battle of the previous day. He turned in early, and it still felt like he lacked sleep. His vague awareness of the minds in the vicinity was merely a sixth sense to him now. He located Saphira's drowsy mind and smiled.
Good morning, he said.
Good morning, little one. Are you feeling better now?
Eragon did not respond until he was cleaned up and prepared for the day. He dressed in his favorite elven tunic – a blue one with stitchings of silver and gold leaves. He also donned on a matching cape and grinned. He felt better, but the pain of losing his sword, Kylskada, weighed heavily on his mind. He tried to push it away as he put on the belt of Beloth the Wise. Looking his best would boost the Varden's morale.
I am feeling better, he agreed. Not my best, but still better. We need weapons.
We must all take steps to recover, Saphira agreed. Naturally, their first defeat did not sit well with her either.
Eragon stepped out of his tent with a loaf of bread in hand, into a shower of blue as he faced his dragon who waited outside. People passing by murmured quick greetings. "So," he said out loud. "Where to, now?"
Brom. He has been quite impatient. He passed me by here twice and kept reminding me of your meeting today. Thorn has been bombarded with the same reminders, as was Sardonis. Both males have been most displeased, to put it lightly
Looking around, Eragon noticed that the other tents were empty. The lack of a dragon's presence was always noticeable. Oh, so was I the last to wake?
Aye. Your brother and sister have left a while ago. Katrina departed to meet with her mother and her father a little before you arose. Nasuada and Solaris have both been talking to Melikir since dawn – no doubt about the fate of their sister. Faolin has invited Arya and Vanir to break their fast with him.
Eragon nodded. He clambered up Saphira's back and quickly ate his breakfast, feeling the brush of the breeze against his face. Unbidden, the mighty sapphire dragon walked toward Brom's tent, which was situated a small distance away from his pupils, nearer to Melikir's. It was made of pale blue silk trimmed with a deeper blue, red, and black. Thorn and Sardonis were curled up right outside, engaged in a lazy discussion.
Eragon, Saphira, it is good to see you, Thorn said with a dip of his head.
That is true. It is good to see both of you looking better, agreed Sardonis.
It is good to see you both, too, Eragon told them with a smile. He patted Saphira's neck. I suppose you would be listening to what we will be discussing, anyway.
Of course, of course, replied Thorn. Why ever will we not? This also concerns us.
Eragon dismounted and patted Saphira's neck reassuringly. Nodding to the two other dragons, who also gave him encouraging looks, he ducked inside his old teacher's tent. Murtagh, Aesyr, Selena, and Brom were seated around a small table laden with food and cups of steaming tea. Brom grunted upon seeing him. "Take your seat and eat. We have much to discuss."
"About our father?" Eragon asked, taking his place.
Murtagh pushed a plate heaped with bread, cheese, and fruit toward him. "Seems like they won't talk until we're finished eating."
Like he mentioned, no one said anything again until the plates were scoured clean. Then, Brom put them away and regarded the siblings. "Now, we are fit to discuss the matter of your parentage." Eragon noted that he started speaking in the Ancient Language. "I am your father."
Eragon gaped at him, then at Selena who did nothing to contradict. "Is this the truth?"
"I speak the language that binds its users in truth, and I am saying it without twisting it. Therefore, son, believe me."
Murtagh clenched his fists. Luckily, the plates and cups were taken away already, or he may have smashed one or more. "We have lived with you for years. We grew up in Carvahall, and Uncle Garrow mentioned that you have lived there since we were two years old. Why did you not reveal yourself?"
"Do not question your father," Selena snapped. She exchanged uncomfortable glances with Brom, who nodded.
"I believe you know bits and pieces of the story already, but it would be better for you to hear everything from the start." He lit his pipe placidly, ignoring the twins' glares and Aesyr's probing gaze. "When my Saphira hatched for me, I was nearing my eleventh year. I joined the ranks of Riders, of which my elder brother and sister were also members. As was custom, Oromis took me as his junior student, with Morzan as my senior of three years. I looked up to both of them, Morzan most of all. I saw him as a surrogate brother even though he treated me like dirt. I am not proud of it."
Murtagh snickered in spite of himself. "You let yourself be ordered around by someone else? Impossible."
"It is possible," Aesyr contradicted him.
Brom nodded thoughtfully, apparently lost in memories. "That was one of the reasons why it was so easy to hate him when he betrayed us. It nearly drove me into madness when he was the one who murdered Saphira, forced my sister, Ellina, to become his lover, and eventually killed her during a battle to save the dwarves. I swore to myself that I will undo him and avenge my dragon and my sister."
"That sword, Eldsvard," Murtagh said. "That was your sister's?"
"Aye. We managed to retrieve it from her body and give her and her dragon a proper burial before the Forsworn returned to claim her sword. Servvan, the original owner of Kylskada, was my brother. Oromis had his sword when he escaped the Forsworn." Brom smiled bitterly. "Mad with grief over multiple losses, I ignored my master's warnings and went on to form the Varden, which you probably know. I personally murdered three of the Forsworn and caused the deaths of another two."
"I have never met him before his last scheme, eighteen years ago," began Selena, her gray eyes wistful. "It was five years since I left Carvahall, four years since I joined the Varden, two years into my spying mission and a year and a half since I married Morzan. My husband believed that I was perfectly capable. That was why he married me in the first place. He gave me the task to spy on the Varden for him and manage his household while he left to fulfill Galbatorix's will. It was then that I gathered the most information for the Varden, as Morzan's head of household. In exchange, I gave him many false information that he did not even bother to scan for any hint of falsehood."
"If you were stuck in Morzan's fortress, then how did you two meet?" Eragon asked, still doubtful of Brom's revelations.
"It is true, aren't the Forsworn spellcasters too? After all, they're Riders with more experience than the eight of us combined," added Murtagh.
Aesyr voiced out something that Eragon was starting to wonder about. "Don't tell me that you seduced her to get back at Morzan!"
Brom grimaced. "Well, that was my initial intent. I was not technically a part of the Varden anymore at that point, having parted ways with them after my little mission with Jeod. But then, the more I talked to her, the more that we fell in love, and I actually found out that she was from the Varden."
Selena grinned. "It was quite a shock when I actually found out who he was. So in time, I became pregnant… and I managed to slip away under the pretense of returning to the Varden."
"Weren't you afraid that he would find out?"asked Eragon.
"As you may have realized already, the Forsworn are mad and broken. It is their weakness and will be their undoing." Selena's smile turned bitter. "As you should then know, I reached Carvahall and gave birth to you. I left once I have recovered enough. I spent another six months in the castle, until Brom decided to leave for Carvahall to keep an eye on our children. That was when you, Aesyr, were conceived. But I did not know until I was on my way to the Varden during my periodic visits… and since it would be too dangerous for me to loop around and go back to Carvahall, I gave birth to you in the Varden and entrusted you to an old friend."
"But surely you must have shared a bed with Morzan… are you sure that we are not his children?" Murtagh asked. That was a good point.
Brom smiled. "You may want to ask Arya about spells that could easily determine parentage from a few drops of blood. I believe that elves, with their peculiar custom of taking mates instead of marrying, have a lot of parental disputes. Yes, I am your father. Have no doubt. But I hope you do not hate me for this… That is the reason why I kept off the truth until now. I was afraid that I would push you away."
Eragon knew he should have been angry. But he felt nothing but peaceful. His experiences and things he learned from others made him sure that Brom could not reveal himself before without putting all of them in danger. For that, he was grateful.
"Once we end this war, we can finally become a real family. I'll make it happen," he murmured in the ancient language.
Katrina felt so sore, that she let Luneria carry her around the camp without complaint. Normally, unless it was needed, she still prefered to walk. Dressed in her best, the other soldiers nodded and bowed to her. She accompanied Vanir earlier that day in overseeing the departure of a number of dwarves. Apparently, their king decided to abdicate and pass on the throne, and they needed to return to the Beor Mountains to prepare for the election of the new king.
Luneria shuffled toward the edge of the camp, where the refugees of Carvahall were being shepherded by Garrow and Roran, while Askanir watched lazily. She searched the crowd for familiar faces… There was Horst, leaner than he used to be, shadowed by his sons. Beside him was a heavily pregnant Elaine. She blinked and looked twice at Jeod, the merchant of Teirm, and his wife, Helen, who was also heavily pregnant and looked a great deal happier.
Eragon and Murtagh arrived, pulling Aesyr along with them. Their dragons joined Askanir, looking like gigantic mounds of living gemstones. Katrina jumped off Luneria's back. Best if you join them for now. We don't want any of you startling them.
Luneria looked at her for a long time, her thoughts unreadable. I understand. Why they should be terrified of us, I do not know.
From what I have heard from Roran earlier today, they had a terrible ordeal in Carvahall, and it invovled two of the Forsworn. They might react poorly if they see dragons all of a sudden.
Very well. Luneria brushed her snout against Katrina's brow lightly before shuffling away.
Katrina joined the assembled Riders, a small distance away from the line of villagers. A while later, Nasuada, Arya, and Vanir joined them, also dressed in their finest. Their cloaks fluttered idly in the lazy breeze. Katrina broke into a smile as Garrow and Roran approached them.
"Since we cannot go home anymore, it seems like home has come to us," she said, a tone of wonder creeping up her voice. Until now, she had not realized just what Garrow achieved.
The other villagers came into view, their faces and bodies altered so much by their hardships. Though they were lean and gaunt, a different kind of strength glinted through their eyes. Horst's family hurried toward them first, awe in their eyes. A flash of recognition passed in the blacksmith's eyes as he half-nodded, half-bowed to the twins, then to Katrina. Then he extended the same courtesy to the other Riders.
"Katrina! Boys! It was amazing enough when we saw Roran looking… different. Is it true? By the lost kings, Riders! And four from our own village, too!"
"Aye, 'tis true," Brom said, limping toward them.
Selena Nightblade trailed behind him, her cheeks red. "Garrow!" she called out, running into her startled brother's arms.
"You have grown more lovely," Elaine said, smiling at Katrina. "It has been a long time."
"Katrina!" Sloan dashed toward her. He enveloped his daughter in a brief hug. "It has been too long. Far too long. You have done me proud."
"You are not mad?" Katrina looked up at her father, who was beaming.
Sloan shook his head. "At first, I thought you were trying to elope… but everything that has gone on in Carvahall has convinced me otherwise. And I saw eight Riders battling the Forsworn yesterday! I hope you taught Kialandi and Formora their lesson."
Katrina made a face. "Far from it. We were outmatched. They were at their full power. But mad. All mad."
The villagers began to surround them, introducing themselves to the other Riders and expressing awe and reverence toward the two elves. Someone approached the party, dressed all in black. A pale silver cloak fluttered behind her. Her coppery hair fell down in waves around her face, and her silver eyes searched the crowd.
"Ismira?" Sloan said in disbelief.
Ismira smiled. "It has been too long, my dear husband. Have you finally come to your senses? Do you remember your duty?"
Sloan made a face. Miraculously though, he did not explode. After a few seconds, he calmed himself and approached Ismira,letting Katrina trail behind. "It has been six years. But aye, my wife, I am here. And I remember my duty."
Ismira turned to Katrina. "And how you have grown, my lovely daughter. Being a Rider suits you." Clearing her throat, she glanced back at Sloan. "Lord Melikir, King Orrin, King Hrothgar, and Lord Faolin request the presence of the people who came from the Dragon Wing."
"We shall be glad to oblige our hosts," Garrow said at the head of the group. "What are you all waiting for? We must not keep our hosts waiting."
Katrina watched him shepherd the group toward the command tent. "He has changed, too."
"That he has," grunted Sloan. "Katrina, we shall have a proper reunion later, once we are less busy."
Vanir watched the villagers walk away. Humans truly were more interesting than he first thought. He cast his mind out, locating Diamanda. More people to protect, he told her. We cannot let them down. We have heard of their hardships.
You have grown wise.
No, I just learned to think as a person should, Vanir replied, his lip twitching. But I need a sword. We all need ones, as a matter of fact. I cannot fight properly with the poleaxe from Oromis unless I am on your back.
"Do you think we should ask Father if he can supply us with new swords?" Aesyr finally said. She did mention once that her foster father, Frederic, was in charge of the Varden's weapons.
Vanir shook his head. "No, I do not think it would be a good idea. Though I do not doubt that your father can help us get new swords, they would not be the kind that we are accustomed to. Since elves create weapons wrought with enchantments, our swords are lighter and thinner than ones made of the same strength and quality by humans and dwarves."
"Besides, it would not feel right," mused Katrina. All the elation she had at seeing her family and friends from her village seemed to have drained out. "We are Riders. Don't we need a proper Rider's sword as part of our inheritance?"
Eragon snapped his fingers –a sharp, clear sound. "Remember what Solembum said, all the way back in Teirm? 'Time will come and a blacksmith shall be in need of her materials. Look under the roots of the Menoa Tree, where more than weapons will be found. When all seems lost and your power feels insufficient, visit the Rock of Kuthian. Speak your name there, and the Vault of Souls will open for you.' That might solve both our problems – give us new weapons, and give us enough power to match the Forsworn and maybe even Galbatorix himself…"
Nasuada crossed her arms. "A good idea, yes, but still quite a challenge. We do not even know where the Rock of Kuthian is, much less how to find this Vault of Souls."
Vanir exchanged glances with Arya. "The Menoa Tree might be… interesting," he told her.
"There are no documents or records indicating that there is something hidden beneath it," she countered. "I've asked Faolin before."
"We also need to complete as much of our training as we can," Murtagh said worriedly. "Maybe we could ask for Melikir's permission."
"He might let you. You haven't sworn fealty to him." Roran scowled. "He might demand Nasuada and me to stay."
"He must understand. We have our duty to the Varden, but we also have duties as Riders." Nasuada shook her head and smiled. "I will convince him to let us go to Ellesmera."
Sorry for the kinda boring first chapter! We'll be jumping into action soon, though things might be a bit slow-going at first.
Thank you so much for sticking with me up to this point! Will be talking more soon!
Read and review as always, you guys!