I don't own Inheritance Cycle or Death Note.
Please note that this is based on the live action Japanese language films done in 2009, not the anime.
Death Note: Rise of the Dead
Prologue
Death was only the beginning. That much Light knew. And he would find a way to come back to life again. He had done so before. It was only a matter of time before he left the Nothingness.
Why people were opposed to his grande plan, Light never knew. He was, after all, offering a solution to the whole dilemma in regards to criminals. He offered justice. He was god, the god of the new world.
However, there was no point in returning to earth. Everyone knew who Kira was. He wouldn't be able to do the same thing there again.
Considering his options, he thought on the names of several worlds he'd heard about since entering the Nothingness. Finally, narrowing it down to one world, he considered the lands of the world.
Frowning, though he had no body, he went over the names again. Then, a sly smile crept on his face. Alagaesia. That was where he would go.
He only needed to engage the help of two allies who would have no issues helping him.
After all, they wanted some fun.
'Alagaesia, here I come.'
Chapter one: A Mysterious Notebook.
(Murtagh Point of View)
Murtagh and Thorn stood in front of the tribunal. He was tense as he knew a verdict would be delivered.
He was in the middle of a vast hall, the leaders of the various nations on thrones. Arya was on the far left. To her right was King Orrin. Then was Queen Nasuada, an unusual expression on her face. To her right was King Orik, who, though unhappy, was thoughtful. Eragon stood on the far right. To the far right and far left of the thrones were Firnen and Saphira respectably.
There were guards in the room and a massive crowd. This was the first time such a delegation had come to the new dragon rider homeland would come. Everybody had heard the trial and was listening with batted breath. Even Roran, Katrina, and various people from Carvahall were there.
Why he and Thorn had to be on trial here, Murtagh didn't know. He figured it had something to do with being a dragon rider. Because of that, he was first and foremost accountable to his little half brother, Eragon, and his dragon Saphira as the new leaders of the dragon rider order.
The eldunari had listened in and been part of the trial. Glaedr in particular had been particularly interested in this case.
He was starting to get nervous. Some part of him was wishing they'd just get it over with, and tell him what they'd decided. But the other part didn't want to, in case he and Thorn were found guilty. And he knew that there was only one outcome for being found guilty: he and his dragon would be executed.
Finally, Eragon stood up. He was expressionless, and his eyes didn't give away what he felt for anything. "Murtagh Morzansson," he finally said, his voice coming out clear and yet soft. "Thorn. You come before this tribunal because of the accusations against you for the crimes committed during the Dragon Rider War. Numerous murder charges have come against the both of you, not the least which includes the killing of King Hrothgar, and Oromis and Glaedr, the previous leaders of this Dragon and Rider order."
Tension filled Murtagh and Thorn felt sorrow. But they were both in this together.
There was a vast silence. Both Murtagh and Thorn shivered. And part of him just wanted this over with.
He didn't look up. But the voice was softer as Eragon continued. "Despite all of this, through the examination of your mind, we have decided that the two of you were not in control of your actions. It greatly resembles others who were under the control of Galbatorix. And since they could not be held accountable for the crimes committed under their hands, neither should the two of you be. The verdict of the council is unanimous. The two of you are found not guilty of all charges."
Silence was in the room again, and Murtagh was stunned. Had he heard right? He... wasn't guilty? He... wasn't going to die?
Chancing a glance at his brother, he saw that Eragon had a sympathetic expression.
People were whispering. That much he knew. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear what they were whispering, especially since there were dwarves in the audience. No doubt they weren't happy about the rendering.
It greatly surprised him that King Orik was willing to give such a judgement on him. And, as another voice, that of King Orik called their names, he risked looking at the dwarven king. "Murtagh. Thorn." Orik then stared at him for a moment before continuing. "I will admit, I was angry when I came into this the first time. I will admit that I had full intentions of declaring you guilty. And I would have still. It was only after... entering your mind... that I understood."
A shiver went down Murtagh and he did his best to control his expression. It wasn't easy facing the king who was both his accuser and his judge. The truth was that all the evidence had been stacked against him. The trial had been long and gruesome, and he'd gained no ground in the first three fourths of the trial. He knew that the outlook was bleak.
It was only when Eragon came to him in his cell that he'd spoken with his brother about a potential option. He remembered that memory very well. Eragon had been standing in front of him, the two brothers separated by bars. "Murtagh," he finally began, and there was hesitation in his eyes.
Silence enveloped him for a moment. Then, "Are you calling me because it's time to declare a verdict?" Murtagh couldn't bear to face his brother, especially with all that had been exposed about him. It was deeply embarrassing and humiliating.
There was hesitation. "No."
Looking up, knowing that there was something else going on, Murtagh asked, "Then why are you here?"
Once again, Eragon hesitated. "We...I... We can't declare you one way or another until all the evidence is looked at."
"Humph!" Murtagh snorted. "They hate me. They all hate me. I never stood a chance from the beginning. I know my fate, Eragon. It was written since my birth."
"Don't think that!" Eragon immediately stepped forward, and Murtagh looked up again.
"Are you really going to believe that?" Murtagh asked. "You know very well what I did."
"I also know the oaths you were under."
"Doesn't change anything," Murtagh whispered, looking away. "They need a scapegoat. Besides, I'll still be held accountable. After everything you've heard, do you really think you can turn it around?"
"Don't give up," Eragon practically begged, and then he knelt in front of the bars since Murtagh was sitting down on the floor, no bed provided. "I... I have an idea."
Looking up again he faced his brother bravely. "There is nothing you can do for me, Eragon. You're the leader of the riders. You can't afford to show favoritism. I understand that you can't let me off despite the fact that you're my brother. I... I only ask for one thing," and Murtagh gulped, sudden fear in his eyes. But he was done running. He doubted he could run anymore anyways. "When... the execution... I... I want it be you. Just... just don't let Thorn suffer, okay?" There were tears in his eyes. "And... for both of us... try to make it quick?"
Horror was in Eragon's gaze. There were now tears in his eyes. "No!" he whispered. "Don't give up!"
"We both already know the outcome," Murtagh was sincere.
But Eragon shook his head. "I... might have a way."
"I don't think it would convince anyone," Murtagh was thoughtful.
"Just hear me out!" Eragon begged. And then he hesitated, making Murtagh wonder what kind of suggestion he even had. "Your memories," Eragon finally breathed, and Murtagh stiffened, whitening. "That's your evidence. Your memories and Thorn's can clear both of you."
Now it was Murtagh's turn to be horrified. The idea of letting anyone in his mind, especially since the last person to do that was Galbatorix, (and Murtagh shivered at that), was - No! Unacceptable!
He was already shaking his head and Eragon had a begging expression on his face. "Please!" he asked. "Let us examine them!"
"No," Murtagh whispered, completely abhorrent to the thought.
"If you have nothing to hide, then why won't you?!" Eragon begged.
"NO." Murtagh was more firm this time. "Absolutely not."
"Think about Thorn!" Eragon was more pleading this time, and something about those words made Murtagh stop, despite how repugnant the idea was. Let other see how Galbatorix had broken him? And yet... if he didn't...
"Thorn will suffer to!" Eragon was reasoning with him. "Only the combination of both of your memories could clear you. One without the other won't do anything. Don't forget, you also have memories that Thorn may not have that would clear him. Would you really sentence your dragon to such a fate if you can save him?"
At this point, considering, Murtagh knew he was trapped. A defeated look entered his face as he already knew the answer. "No," he admitted quietly, head down in shame. "I wouldn't do that to him."
"Then agree to this!" Eragon asked.
"Everything is going to be exposed wide," Murtagh was ashen pale, whiter than death.
"But it will give people understanding," Eragon was confident. "If they understand your feelings, see and feel what you went through... You have a chance, Murtagh. So does Thorn."
Bringing his knees up to him, knowing that regardless he was doomed, whether it was in life or in death, Murtagh nodded. Either way, he would never be viewed the same after this. "Fine," he conceded, and Eragon got up.
"I know this is hard," his younger brother said to him. He was soft in his voice. "So, thank you."
Eragon left him.
It was after that during the trial Murtagh and Thorn were required to open their mind. Everyone's mind was opened to where they could see, and they went through Murtagh's entire life, carefully examining each thing. Then they went through Thorn's life. Even the eldunari were seeing everything.
Murtagh was shivering by the time it was over. Shock was on everyone's faces, but Murtagh refused to look at his little brother, instead allowing himself to be escorted to his cell.
When the cell door was shut with reluctance, he waited for them to leave. Then, he curled up, separated from his dragon once more.
It was a couple weeks later that due to what they'd found in his memories, they were searching for any more evidence that might be able to help explain his side of the story. And, it was a month later, in a trial, that Murtagh found out in the worst way possible that Galbatorix had kept records of each and every person that he'd broken and tortured.
Murtagh was forced to go through the horror of listening to the accounts that Galbatorix had made with his own hands. So horrible were they that he fainted during the proceedings. Much of it he hadn't even remembered. And, when he woke up in the cell, he barely remembered any of it, other than the fact that they'd found records detailing exactly how Galbatorix had broken him. There were things written in there that he didn't even remember.
He was allowed to stay in his cell the next few days as they reviewed the records. In many ways he was grateful, that way he wouldn't have to face it.
About a couple of weeks after that, he was brought in for the verdict, the leaders of Alagaesia having deliberated. And it was there that they declared him not guilty.
Doing the best to contain his emotions, Murtagh nodded at King Orik. He was lucky, he knew. But, in exchange, he had still suffered a humiliating defeat.
As the crowd dispersed, Murtagh walked with Thorn out of the building, away from the crowds. He wanted nothing more than to leave everything behind, utterly humiliated at what he'd had to endure the past few weeks. Unfortunately, it was still close to the verdict, and he hadn't been given anything back yet, not Thorn's saddle, not Zar'rock, nor anything else. But, if he could get away from everyone, he might have some relief.
Hearing footsteps behind him, he knew who it was. "Go away, little brother," he whispered. He didn't want to be with anyone but Thorn at the moment.
The footsteps hesitated. "Murtagh," he heard Eragon say. There was such sympathy in that voice.
Murtagh merely shook his head. He was still shaking all over. Eragon went up to his side, and Thorn's mind pressed with his, concerned and full of sorrow.
For a while they said nothing. And he was surprised to be glad that Eragon was near him. But, there would have been much exposed. After their memories had been gone through, Eragon hadn't had time to talk with him about some of the things he'd felt in his memory. He'd been simply too busy gathering evidence on behalf of his brother.
Saphira's claws were heard, and Murtagh hid under Thorn's wings, not wanting to be disturbed.
They stayed like that for the rest of the night. In fact, Murtagh fell asleep under Thorn's wings.
He stayed out of everyone's shoes the next day. Some people were curious, and were looking at him. However, he tried not to let it get under his skin.
Eragon eventually showed up to see how he was doing. He was still tense. Eragon had seen everything in his mind, after all, including his resentment for him, and how much he blamed Eragon for not rescuing him, especially after all he'd done for him.
Things were a little awkward. "Are you well?" he murmured, like he didn't know what else to say.
Murtagh stiffened.
"I'll be fine."
(Several Months Later)
Adjusting to be with the riders hadn't been easy, overall. There was initially some tension between Eragon, and Murtagh had to work hard to forgive Eragon. Eragon was wracked with guilt, he knew, especially from being exposed to all his raw emotions. However, they were doing their best to move past that.
He was often invited to Eragon's quarters for dinner. He attended, not because he wanted to, but also because he knew the concerned looks his brother was sending his way.
They avoided the subject for many months. When it finally popped up, though, it popped up in the most unpleasant way.
Eragon and Murtagh were flying. As usual, Murtagh was silent. He heard his dragon sigh on the other end. 'When are the two of you going to work it out?'
'Work what out?' Murtagh was puzzled. As far as he was concerned, things between him and Eragon were fine.
'You're avoiding talking to him about 'it'.'
Rolling his eyes, he grumbled to himself. ''It' isn't something to talk about.'
Banking left, Thorn brought them into the clouds, concealing them temporarily. 'I know humans are different,' he finally began. 'But in all honesty, holding this in is killing you!'
'I'm immortal,' Murtagh deadpanned. 'I feel fine.'
'Not like that!' Thorn was frustrating. 'You're tense all the time. You can't move on. I... I want to move on.'
Something in his heart softened when he heard this. Making things difficult on his bonded wasn't something that he intended. And he knew that he was going to have to face Eragon.
As they ended their flight together, silent as it usually was, he tried to work up the courage to talk to his brother. But, the more he ran ways in his head to approach the conversation, the more he found himself dreading it. So, by the time he was finished taking the saddle off, he decided to leave, not ready to do it.
"Murtagh!" his little brother called out.
Stiffening, he turned around, figuring out what was going on. Thorn must have said something to Saphira who had something to Eragon. Or, he'd said it directly to the shadeslayer himself.
Keeping his face neutral, he responded, "Yes?"
There was hesitation. "You... want to talk?"
Great. It was put in his ballpark. No, he did not want to talk, but he knew he needed to. But, seeing if he could weasel his way out of this, he replied, "If you have any additional tasks you want me to do, Eragon, now's the time to say it. I'm heading to the library, otherwise."
The concerned look that he always hated was on his face again. Murtagh couldn't help but be miffed. Eragon walked out, murmuring softly, "Please meet me in my study in five minutes," and Murtagh shot his dragon a begging look. 'Please help,' he thought to him.
Thorn nuzzled him on the head. 'You know you'll be fine.'
'I don't want to do this!' Murtagh admitted.
'You need to.'
Sighing, he walked through the various halls, knowing the dragons would be engaging in conversation and yet keeping an eye on them at the same time. When he finally entered Eragon's vast study, Eragon was looking over some scrolls at his desk. Murtagh shut the door and stood at attention.
When the door was shut, Eragon put the scroll down, frowning, as if he didn't know how to address the subject. "Are you all right?" he finally asked again.
"I'm fine, Eragon," Murtagh emphasized with an even voice.
Eragon studied him for a minute. "No, you're not. And we both know it." He stood up and walked around the desk, looking out the window. "You and I haven't been on good terms for a long while."
"I would say we're on pretty good terms," Murtagh argued back.
Shaking his head, Eragon turned to address him. "I think our definitions of good terms are different then." And there was that compassionate look again.
Tensing, Murtagh clenched his fists. "I know what you're implying," he seethed. The he warned, "Don't go there."
"If I told you I'm sorry, would that make it better?" Eragon's voice was soft.
He whipped around, staring at his little brother, shaking. "I'm only here because Thorn wants to be here," Murtagh hissed. "I wouldn't be here otherwise!" Something inside him was bottled up, and he felt it all coming out, the resentment and everything. The feelings of abandonment reached him more than ever before.
"Don't act like you're not the favored son! You always had things better! I grew up in a murder hole! Do you know what it's like to be almost assassinated when you're five years old just because of who your father is? Did you know that it was an attempt from the Varden?"
He was trembling in rage now, pacing back and forth in anger. "Dras Leona. I saved you from the Ra'zac. Gil'ead. I saved you again. You said you'd find a way out for me so that I wouldn't have to go to the Varden. And guess what? If I hadn't gone to the Varden, I wouldn't have been captured!"
Eragon flinched quite visibly.
Murtagh continued on. Now he was counting off things, using his fingers. "I had your back in battle. When I was captured, I never gave anyone anything on you willingly! I kept your secrets. I found a way around my oaths. Some part of me always protected you, especially when I found out you were my brother!"
Grabbing a glass ornament on the desk, he threw it into the wall, shattering it. Then he whipped around to Eragon. "And guess where it got me!"
Once more, Eragon flinched. But Murtagh was done. He was still shaking, angry beyond what he had realized he ever was. And he'd never realized how angry he actually was. There were some tears of rage in his eyes.
A solemn look was on Eragon's face, and he could see tears in there, but he was beyond caring at this point. A brief silence enveloped them. Then, "There isn't a day I don't regret it, Murtagh, especially after seeing what I've seen in your mind."
But Murtagh was in rage again, and he pointed one long finger at Eragon. "YOU BROKE YOUR PROMISES TOWARDS ME! YOU SAID YOU'D MAKE IT TO WHERE I DIDN'T HAVE TO GO TO THE VARDEN! AND ON THE PLAINS, YOU TRIED TO KILL ME!" Taking another glass ornament, he smashed that against the wall.
There were various expressions on Eragon's face that Murtagh didn't know how to decipher. But he could tell one thing: Eragon didn't know how to answer him. He desperately wanted to make things right, but he didn't know how.
That's when Murtagh realized, in a logical manner, how pointless this all was. Yes, he was angry, he was mad, but who could even go back and change it? If Eragon could, he'd give him the world to make it right. But he was powerless to. In the end, nothing would be accomplished.
For the first time in a long while, Murtagh found himself crying. He put his hands to his face and wept for all that he had been through, all the betrayal he'd been through. Some part of him released, and he leaned against the wall, sobbing.
After a while, Eragon walked up to him, and hugged him. He didn't realize he needed it until he was aware of the fact that he had grabbed Eragon was crying into his shoulders.
How long this was for, he didn't know. But, eventually, he pulled away, slightly embarrassed. And yet, it felt kinda good to release a lot of it. "Sorry," he murmured, and felt guilt at breaking what was probably a gift to Eragon, eyeing it in guilt.
"Don't be," Eragon shook his head, and he murmured in the ancient language, piecing both of them back together. It was as if they had never been broken. Looking up at his brother, he whispered, "You don't know how sorry I am. I confess, I broke promises to you, promises that you were relying on. I... I should have searched for you. I didn't do any of that. And for that, and numerous other things, I do apologize."
Something about those words calmed Murtagh down. He didn't realize it, but it was what he needed. It was like a big relief was taken off of his shoulders.
Stepping forward, he wrapped his little brother into a hug. Eragon held him close, and he was surprised when he heard him sobbing. "I am so sorry!" he whispered.
They stayed like that for some time, and when they pulled away, they both felt remarkably better. "You okay?" Eragon asked Murtagh.
For the first time, the genuine concern in Eragon's voice touched Murtagh. He hadn't been ready for the concern until that very moment. "No," he admitted, more open with his feelings. "But in time, I will be."
His brother nodded. "I'm here if you need me."
"I know," Murtagh whispered.
They hugged again, he couldn't help the laugh that escaped him. Then, they were both laughing together, though why, they didn't know.
Stepping away, Murtagh walked for the door. "I guess I'll see you downstairs later?"
"Yeah!" Eragon replied. "Just... Actually, do you mind taking dinner in my quarters?"
Nodding, the idea felt rather nice. "Sure. I wouldn't mind."
The two parted ways.
(A month and a half later)
Things were much smoother between the brothers now. They laughed and they joked and Eragon began teaching Murtagh the ways of the riders, and the lessons he had learned from Oromis. All in all, things were well.
Slowly, they found themselves returning to normal. While Murtagh still had a lot of healing to do, at the same time, he was starting to trust Eragon with it. They would chat for hours, fly with their dragons, and Eragon was even becoming accustomed to Thorn.
With their friendship returning, Murtagh couldn't help but start to feel more welcome. As the elves that lived with them got used to them, he found a friendship forming with them as well. It stayed that way for several years.
It was too bad that Murtagh would be separated from his brother for the first time in a few years.
Murtagh should have known it was coming. He was the second rider in the order. Eragon was the leader. And he was always training students with the help of the elves. Arya was queen of the elves. That left only him. And Arya had contacted Eragon, asking for a favor.
Vanir had arrived the night before. It was under the most unusual terms. And so, it was inevitable that he was called into Eragon's study.
He sat in front of the desk, well aware that Saphira was already giving her instructions to Thorn. Eragon had a thoughtful look on his face. Finally, he looked up at Murtagh. "I know I wouldn't normally do this, but it appears that we're needed again."
"Needed?" Murtagh was suspicious. This was beginning to sound a lot like a first mission was being given. It better not be that.
He knew that Eragon knew how much he wanted to avoid Alagaesia. And, as such, he knew that Eragon was breaking it to him gently, even though he subconsciously knew and was in denial. "There was a confrontation between Surda and Nasuada's kingdom. They're unable to come to an agreement. With the trade going on in the region, a war would disrupt things. Moreover, the dwarves and elves don't want to risk involvement. Arya's already tried mediating, but to no end. Even Vanir has tried negotiations. It's not working."
Murtagh put his head in his hands. This was worse. "You're expecting me to play diplomat?"
"The riders of old were."
"But we're not them!"
"No," Eragon was worried. "And so, we're winging it."
Shaking his head, frustrated, Murtagh asked, "And you can't go? You're the leader!"
"And I'm Nasuada's former vassal. That doesn't make things fair," Eragon emphasized.
"What makes you think they'll listen to me?!" Murtagh stood up and put his hands on the desk, leaning. "I'm a former enemy. And don't forget, there was once something between Nasuada and I..." he trailed off, not sure where he and she stood. Eragon had dissuaded him from being romantically involved with her, telling him that it would only break him eventually when the mortal queen died of old age. That, and he couldn't ignore the fact that he had tortured her. She had however, forgiven him, and had voted for a declaration of not guilty for both him and Thorn.
Eragon was sympathetic. "I don't think many people realize that you and Nasuada were... ever involved."
"Still doesn't make it fair."
"At least it gives the appearance of fair," Eragon argued gently. "Besides, I trust and will back you're judgement, even if it's against Nasuada's kingdom."
"I'm a former enemy," Murtagh tried to emphasize.
"Who was declared 'not guilty' and was forgiven," Eragon pointed out. He let his hands go wide. "I can't leave. I've just gotten word that a couple of the eggs have hatched. I'm expecting new students, our first students in a while. None of the other riders are trained enough to actually train them as they're still in training. The elves can't help. They're not dragon riders, apart from a few. I'm sorry, Murtagh. It has to be you."
"No," Murtagh shook his head, but Thorn connected his mind with his. The dragon was excited, and he knew why: they got a chance to prove themselves. "Great," he moaned, hand to his face again, and when he turned back, Eragon was grinning. Saphira must have told him.
"I hate you," he whispered to his brother, "Manipulative!" he said under his breath. Eragon grinned further.
"Thorn seems excited."
"I hate you."
"No you don't," Eragon saw right through him, grinning widely.
With that, Murtagh went to pack his bags.
(Light Point of View)
It was a strange place, this Alagaesia was. It was dark outside and there were very few people on the streets. He looked down at his new body, looking exactly as he had in his mortal life. He looked just like he had when he'd lived on earth. "Beautiful," he whispered to himself, amazed at what he was able to do.
Currently, he was in a village, Daret he'd heard it was called. A small smile was on his face.
"Time to get to work."
He knew the shinigami came here sometimes. He'd bribed Ryuk to come and bring some of his buddies to drop off notebooks to him, and anyone he deemed necessary. Now he only needed to wait for a death note to be dropped.
Plop!
Turning around he saw a familiar notebook. It was written in the Alagaesian language. More than able to read it as he'd prepared himself to come to Alagaesia by learning the language, the histories, and the customs, he looked right and left. Seeing no one, he picked up the notebook.
Upon touching it, a familiar chuckle sounded, but he didn't turn around. "Nice to see you too, Ryuk."
"Oh, this will be interesting!" the shinigami said behind him.
A small smile occurred on Light's face as he flipped through the blank pages. Finally, he turned to the side that had the rules and ran his hand reverently over the page. "The work I did before went unappreciated," he murmured softly, thoughts running through his mind. His voice gentle, despite the violent thoughts that were running through his head. "They could not see the perfect world I was creating: a world without criminals. A perfect world. But no matter. I shall merely start over."
He closed the notebook loudly. In his clothes was a pen that he would use until he got a quill and ink from the locals.
Putting the notebook in his mouth, he climbed to the roof of one of the buildings to watch. Now, he merely had to scout for trouble.
This would be difficult since he didn't have anyone to trade shinigami eyes for him. In a moment, he realized that although he found her annoying, having Misa around might be useful. "Ryuk?" he asked in a favor. "Do you want an apple?" he was smirking.
Ryuk tilted his head. "There's someone you are wanting to bring back?"
"Misa Amane," Light whispered ever so softly, and Ryuk shook his head.
"Life can be cruel sometimes. I know you only intend to use her."
"I intend to create a better world," Light corrected. "And to do so requires sacrifice."
"Yet you will not sacrifice yourself?"
Light considered a moment. "I have figured out how to come back from the dead. Until I can figure out a way to teach that to others, there is no logical point in me being the one to do the trade." There. That was what he would give him. "Besides," he whispered softly. "Every move must be carefully cultivated. As the mastermind behind this plan, as the one to bring order to the world, I need to be here to see it through."
"You can be cruel at times, Light," the Shinigami warned. Then, "I cannot bring back the dead. But you seemed to have found a way to come back."
Light frowned. But Ryuk had a point. Perhaps, since he could always come back if he died, it would be useful teaching someone else the trick as well, even if it put his life at risk. After all, Misa looked up to him and was loyal. Her loyalty was always useful. And if he continued to carefully cultivate her feelings for him...
Light felt that it was needful. By teaching Misa, she could always be restored to youth. And, she did occasionally have some good insights. And so, he found himself liking the idea of having a partner. With both of them able to come back as youth, they could do this forever.
"Well then," Light considered, as he was on the roof. Then, sitting down on the roof, trying not to fall off, he folded his legs, going into a meditative state. Then, locating his assistant who had outlived him, he contacted her mind which was floating around in the nothingness. 'Want another adventure?' he asked, smiling a bit.
'What for?' came her sarcastic response. 'We failed.'
'It's a new world. A new chance. We can start over again.' Briefly, he showed her what he had discovered, what he had done to get here. Then, he waited for a response.
'I'll think about it.'
A little agitated he opened his eyes. Ryuk was floating in front of him. "Does she not want to return?" he asked.
"It doesn't matter," Light got up. "If she doesn't come, then I'll have to find someone else."
Just then, there was a skirmish below. A gang of men had cornered a young woman against a wall. The man in front shoved her into a wall. "Arvid! Are you out of your mind! What will your father think?" One of the gang men said.
The man who was strong and muscular, but thin, chuckled. "He'll think I'm a man." With that, he took out a knife and stabbed the woman to death.
Light looked down on the situation with disinterest. The bright side about Alagaesia was they didn't have last names. Any additional names were merely monikers earned, or indication of lineage. Thus, he could use the death note with only the given name needed.
He trailed them inconspicuously as they dragged her out of the city and buried her haphazardly in a nearby forest. Then the men returned and got drunk.
Light was disgusted. He'd found his first victim. Moreover, he knew that taking his supplies and money would buy him time in this new world. So, entering the pub they went into, he watched them. He trailed the man upstairs, making sure to stay out of sight, and found the room he was sleeping in. Then, when the man came out he hid. Light swiftly entered his victim's room.
It took an hour, and the man returned drunk as a ever, brown hair a mess probably from a fight, and he stumbled when he saw Light sitting on a seat by the bed, the door to the room closed. "Wh-who are you?" his slurred voice said.
Light smiled cruelly. "Your judge. Your grim reaper."
Taking out the ballpoint pen, he spelled the basic Alagaesian name: Arvid. "Tell me," he asked, shutting his notebook. "Are you prepared to meet whatever gods you believe in?"
The man seemed entranced, but then his fists closed. "I'm going to teach you a lesson," he growled, and walked up to Light with drunken steps. But, before he could reach him, he clutched his heart in agony, groaning in pain. It lasted for about thirty seconds. The man collapsed, then he was dead.
Light looked down dispassionately. "No," he whispered softly. "I'm going to teach you a lesson."
Standing up, he searched the room. Taking what money he could find, as well as bank account information (Alagaesia had a primitive bank), Light then searched the man.
When he was done, he found enough money for travel and food, ink and quills, and other necessities. He found spare clothes also, which he took, and standing up, he left the room and walked out of the pub.
He traveled out of Daret at night.
(Murtagh Point of View)
Murtagh grumbled as he landed in the forest near Ellesmera. Vanir was behind him, and he was amused. Murtagh didn't even want to be here.
"Come now," Vanir tried to convince him with a laugh. "You'll be a fine diplomat."
"I'm not a politician!" Murtagh growled, and Vanir laughed again, clearly amused. Vanir had spent the previous night teaching him the manners of the elves so that he could navigate his way. While he'd already known the manners, he had received some last minute political training. That said, he really didn't want to do this job.
Despite this, Thorn seemed to be excited. And, as Murtagh kept his feelings off his face, he was surprised to be greeted by Arya as soon as they walked a little ways. He hadn't noticed her or any of the elves present.
They exchanged greetings. Then, Murtagh asked her, "Eragon said there were troubles?" He just wanted to get to the point and get out of here.
Arya raised her eyebrows, but none the less, she acknowledged. "Surda and the Brodding Kingdom are at odds. We were hoping that you could intervene and propose a solution that would satisfy both leaders."
"What is this about?" Murtagh was curious.
After hesitating, Arya admitted, "Ever since Nasuada was forced to give up her vassalage, due to the distaste of many over her policies with magicians, Surda has been accepting refugees. However, this has led to confrontation. Nasuada is not quite willing to give up on her agenda."
"Ah," Murtagh nodded. He would be the first to admit that when he found out her policies on magicians, especially since many had faithfully served her, including Eragon, he had been shocked. He didn't think that she would turn out to be a control freak. Then again, maybe he really didn't know her. Her corruption was getting on everyone's nerves. "And what are you wanting me to do?"
"Confront her," Arya replied, sensing his reluctance. Though he got the point. They were basically wanting him to figure out a way to tell her to knock it off. "We're trying to get Surda and the Brodding Kingdom to come to terms. At the same time, she needs to stop her policies. She's making enemies. The last thing she needs to do is alienate more magicians."
"If she's as stubborn as you say, then what makes you think Thorn and I will be successful?" Murtagh folded his arms.
Vanir shrugged. "You're a rider. The riders have sway. Without the backing of the riders, she's politically backed into a corner."
"And Arya's a rider, but that didn't sway her," Murtagh pointed out.
"I'm also queen of the elves," Arya rolled her eyes. "That's different."
"Who is a rider," Murtagh pressed.
"Are you going to help or not?" Arya became snappy.
Murtagh knew it was best to avoid irking her. "I'll do what I can," he was careful.
At this point, Thorn stepped in. 'What he means is we'll do what's in our power. But, I fear this may not work out at all. Murtagh and I may have very little sway compared to Eragon.'
'I know,' Arya projected for them all to hear. She then turned to Murtagh. "The two of you can stay here for a few days before leaving."
"Understood," Murtagh nodded, despite his discomfort of being in the home of the elves.
Arya walked off.
(Light Point of View)
Misa, he had to admit offhandedly, was very beautiful. She was standing right in front of him, fully human again, dressed in Alagaesian clothes. He gently stroked her cheek. "I will always bring you back," he murmured.
She smirked. "That's only because that's the only way I could help you." She sighed. "I'll admit, I still believe in the great philosophies of the great Kira, though."
"You and I can be the king and queen of this new world," Light promised. "The god and goddess. Together, we will make sure we punish those that deserve punishment. And with your shinigami eyes, no one will be able to stop us. And if we die, we shall always come back."
Ryuk chuckled from behind him. "Actually, they have magic. You're going to have be be more creative, Light."
"Yes," Light agreed. And he brought something out of his backpack, causing Misa to smirk. "Want to learn a little magic training?" Of course, he had no intention to, and she would know he wasn't serious. Even if it turned out they could use magic, it was better to let someone else use it and be the scapegoat, considering this society.
"Would love to!" Misa gratefully took the book, and she wasn't serious as well. Then she was serious. "The more we know about the enemy, the better."
"I still want to use the death note to finish the job, instead of magicians," Light admitted. "But, even if we can't use magic, the more we know how magic is used, the better for our plans."
"What do you have in mind?" Misa asked flipping through the books.
"Framing some magicians," Light admitted.
Misa smirked.
"You were always the genius, Light."
And he could see the love for him, the affection in her eyes. Strangely, it felt good.
Light kissed Misa on the lips.
(Murtagh Point of View)
He was exhausted by the time he reached Alagaesia. And here he'd thought he'd never be back. Actually, he was hoping to never be back. Even Thorn was exhausted.
They were in Illeria, and no doubt word would have reached Nasuada about his arrival. However, he had yet to see her. Perhaps she didn't want to see him.
Deciding to call it a day, Murtagh stayed in a local inn, while Thorn settled outside the village. 'But I'll always be within a range to help you if needed,' the great red dragon told him before spreading his massive wings and taking off.
Murtagh watched him go. A small smile was on his face as he watched his dragon, and he couldn't help it. Then, sighing, he headed into the inn.
It was the following day, as he and Thorn both entered Nasuada's court, that they finally got to work. She had a frown on her face as he approached her. She was seated on her throne, and Murtagh did his best to keep unpleasant memories about the throne room from his mind. It wouldn't do any good to have bad memories at the wrong time. "Queen Nasuada," he greeted.
The frown was still on her face, and all her subjects in the throne room were watching him. Thorn said nothing to her, and Murtagh couldn't help but notice that her court was missing magicians, as most had abandoned her. Even many non magicians were becoming uncomfortable with her policies, including Roran, from what he had heard. It was reminding them of Galbatorix.
Nasuada said nothing. She merely glared at him, not in a good mood. So, he decided to continue on. "Eragon has heard about the dispute in Alagaesia. He's sent me to come and solve it."
"He's not going to come and solve it himself?" she raised an eyebrow, and there was distaste in her voice. Apparently the interference of the dwarves and elves had soured her mood, and it didn't help that dragon riders were now involved.
"He can't," Murtagh was firm.
At that moment, Thorn piped up for all to here. 'He has his responsibilities to train new students. If that were not the case, he would come.'
"Interesting," Nasuada was expressionless, and the anger was clear in her tone. "But there is nothing to say. I will not bend."
"Nasuada," Murtagh pleaded. It was then he saw how much she had changed. Or had he actually known her? Murtagh had to wonder. "Disruption of the peace would do no good. Neither I nor Eragon have sided with either side. All we're asking is that you meet with King Orrin to try to work things out."
"There is nothing to work out!" Nasuada snapped. And her tone indicated that the case was over. But Murtagh wasn't about to leave.
"Trade would be disrupted," Murtagh cautioned her. "Already, the people are suffering economically from this dispute. Prices have increased, and it's getting harder for people to make a living. Would you put your people through more?"
"There would be none of this if King Orrin would do as I asked!" Nasuada snapped again.
There were murmurs going around, displeasure at Nasuada, though Murtagh could tell it was affecting the queen even though she ignored it. And Murtagh who was stunned and had come out of his stupor finally asked, surprised, "Would you try to control others, Nasuada? That's what Galbotorix did. That's what he did to me."
Nasuada opened her mouth in shock, like she wasn't expecting that approach. And yet, that was true. Seeing he had an opening, Murtagh tried again, trying to reason with her. "That's what this is about, Nasuada. People are complaining about your control. Trust me, we know your wariness about magic. Even many magicians are wary of magic. That said, most are responsible.
"But it's the restrictions on their freedoms, and not just on the freedoms of the magicians, that are bothering them. Let's be reasonable. Neither Surda, Teirm, nor Eragon are your vassals anymore. You don't exercise the powers of a liege lord over them. Yet you try to. And even if you were their liege lord, a good liege lord would listen and wouldn't interfere with their freedom of choice. That's why many didn't want Eragon controlled, so that he could have freedom."
Things were silent, and he took an intentional pause so that things could seep in. "Queen Nasuada, if you let go control, if you give others their freedom, if you ensure their rights, then I'm sure that many, including magicians, will return back to you. They'll want to serve you. But if you continue tightening control on everyone, they'll only turn on you."
"Is that a threat?" Nasuada demanded, her voice like stone.
"No," Murtagh shook his head. "It's merely an observation, including an observation from history. I have no desire to see you fall. That is why I give this caution. I would rather you and your ream prosper."
'Queen Nasuada,' Thorn tried. 'Think of your people! I know they've sent petitions and pleas to you. We've heard about it. This fight with King Orrin is helping no one, not even you.'
They both waited as Nasuada considered them, and Murtagh held his breath, hoping that it would work. Her voice held some fury, but was controlled. "You would think, since I'm doing this for them, for their protection, that they wouldn't inhibit and oppose me!"
"Many would argue that this isn't in their best interest," Murtagh pointed out.
"I know what's best for them!" Nasuada yelled, pounding the armrests on her throne.
"Do you?" Murtagh challenged gently. "Because the people don't seem to think so. And they're getting uncomfortable with you. And regardless of whether or not it's best for them, that's not the point. It's inhibiting their rights. People have a right to make mistakes. Without mistakes, you never learn. And they may be right, after all. But it doesn't matter. It's still what the people want."
"What the people want," Nasuada scoffed, shaking her head. She was still angry, and she took a deep breath. "Very well," she reluctantly gave in, the anger apparent in her voice. "It seems that no one will do as their told anymore anyways. I may as well not be queen."
"But you are queen of this realm," Murtagh pointed out, and he wisely chose to ignore the first part, though it made him deeply uncomfortable, what she said. It reminded him of Galbatorix, who preferred to have people do as they were told. It reminded him of Galbatorix's manipulations, including to him and Thorn. But, at least he and Thorn had accomplished something. He could tell now. She and Orrin would meet. It was a start.
"A queen who apparently holds no authority," Nasuada was sour.
Murtagh chose to ignore her. "Shall I inform King Orrin that you would meet?"
"May as well," Nasuada replied, still sour.
"I think a neutral location would be best," Murtagh replied. "I think Queen Arya of the elves-"
"NO," Nasuada interrupted, leaning forward. "I am not about to have a meeting in a place of magic."
"Then I can see if King Orik may concede to meeting in his kingdom," Murtagh proposed.
Nasuada tapped the end of armrests on her throne with her fingers, considering. "Very well," she replied. "Now get out!"
Murtagh bowed, keeping his expression schooled. She was definitely not as he remembered. He and Thorn exited the throne room.
'Intense,' Thorn remarked.
'Very,' Murtagh agreed, in thought. But his thoughts were elsewhere, disturbed. This wasn't the Nasuada he remembered. Or had he ever really known her? Now he was beginning to question. He'd only met her a few times, after all. That wasn't enough time to get to know a person.
'It's her, isn't it?' Thorn questioned, and Murtagh was grateful that Thorn didn't say her name.
'Yes,' he admitted, as they walked down the vast streets, people staring at him. So he brought them to a less populated location for some privacy. 'I'm not too sure what to think of her, anymore.'
Thorn was silent. He had known that Murtagh had had feelings for Nasuada. But Murtagh was reconsidering. Was Eragon right or wrong to advise him to leave her alone? Perhaps he and her didn't have enough common after all.
But what if he could change her mind by being close to her?
He didn't know what to think or do anymore.
He could understand where Eragon was coming from. She was mortal. He had Thorn to think about. It would only be hard on him when she died. Would he even recover from it?
Should he get emotionally involved?
'A dragon and his rider should make decisions together,' Thorn whispered, knowing where his thoughts were going.
He knew it was a subtle warning from Thorn to involve him in the decision. 'You're saying you want me to decide before with you whether or not to pursue a relationship?' Murtagh was sarcastic.
Thorn hesitated. 'We are dragon and rider,' he pointed out. Then there was hesitation in his voice. 'I don't know, Murtagh. I think we should be cautious about this. Eragon does have a point. She's mortal, and her death would only break you further. Don't forget, that doesn't just affect you, it affects me as well. I'm not sure I could carry you through the emotional turmoil of that.'
'So it's about you then?' Murtagh was sarcastic again, but he instantly regretted it. Of course it wasn't.
'No!' Thorn protested. 'It's just... Do you really know her? Or do you just fancy her because she's pretty, and I won't deny her that. For a human, she is pretty.'
That was another thing to consider. Thorn had a point. And Murtagh had to admit that he did find her attractive.
'There's more to women than just looks,' Thorn pointed out. 'Choosing on looks alone isn't necessarily the best thing. Saphira and I talked about this. I've talked with Arya and Firnen about it. Women don't like men liking them just for their looks. Say you are to pursue a relationship with her. She'll find it pretty shallow if you like her only for her looks. What about her personality? What about who she is?'
'So you're saying to consider her in that manner instead,' Murtagh realized.
'Get to know what she's really like,' Thorn advised. 'And use caution. Watch for who she really is, not who you want her to be. And if she isn't who you think she is, if she's dangerous, run.'
'You think she might be dangerous?' Murtagh asked.
Thorn hesitated. 'I don't know,' he finally admitted. 'But after that display of her behavior, and considering what's happening, I have to wonder. I just don't really know.'
It was definitely something to think about. And Murtagh knew Thorn gave good advice. Nasuada would do what Nasuada would do. Only time would tell.
Sighing, he decided to go get the tack from the inn. All the brooding was getting to him.
'Let's go for a fly.'
(A Week Later)
Murtagh was surprised when King Orik let him in. In fact, the dwarven king looked like he knew what was coming.
They were outside in the hall of Farthen Dur. He had just come inside with Thorn.
"Let me guess," King Orik said the moment he saw him. "She won't meet in Du Weldonvarden."
"She doesn't want to meet in a place of magic," Murtagh replied respectfully, and he sighed, somewhat stressed. He hated playing diplomat. "I think I can understand why. She doesn't think it would be in her favor."
With a stressed look on his own face, King Orik nodded. "I wouldn't oppose opening up Farthen Dur as neutral territory in hopes that this dispute will get solved. Already, trade for the dwarves is massively affected."
"Actually," Murtagh hesitated, not sure if he should say this. "I'm more worried that this dispute won't go anywhere."
Thorn piped up at that moment. 'At least we can all say we tried.'
Orik raised an eyebrow at this. "If this doesn't get solved, this will break out into war," Orik pointed out. "None of this is good." He turned to Murtagh, scrutinizing him. "You don't think this will lead to war, do you?"
"I don't know," Murtagh admitted, looking away for a second, running his hand through his hair. "She's... different from what I remember last time I saw her."
"At the trial, you mean? I didn't think you spoke much."
At that moment, Murtagh realized that he'd let something slip that he hadn't wanted slipped. But, he also had an alibi that was truthful. "Actually, she visited Eragon and I a year after the trial. She seemed much more reasonable then."
"Well," Orik considered, thinking back on things. "Nasuada has always been one to keep things, including her deepest opinions, closest to her chest. I don't think any one of us could have seen this coming."
'Regardless, this won't do much if she's stuck in her ways,' Thorn piped up, and Murtagh had to wonder if part of that was directed at him.
Orik was considering. "There is nothing that can be done now. Come. I will let you stay the night. But if you would be the one to deliver the message to both Orrin and Nasuada, I would be grateful. I don't want it to appear that the dwarves are behind this request, and sending dwarven ambassadors would do that. It would be bad for diplomatic reasons."
"Very well," Murtagh agreed. It was reasonable. He didn't want to stay long, either. The sooner this got done, the better.
Both of them got settled in for the night.
(Two Weeks Later)
Murtagh was scrying his brother near a lake, and he held a bowl with water in his hands. Eragon and Saphira appeared in the scene. Eragon had given him a way to stay in communication.
"How is it?" Eragon asked.
Murtagh shook his head. "She's stubborn. We got her to agree to meet in Farthen Dur. But I doubt it will amount to anything."
"You don't know that," Eragon replied, upbeat already. "You got her to agree to a meeting."
"Eragon," Murtagh cautioned, looking up, not sure how to break it to his little brother. Perhaps being blunt was best. "She's... changed."
"How?" Eragon immediately asked, stunned.
"She's paranoid, according to many," Murtagh replied. He'd since then talked to many, grateful when they let allowed the talk. He was trying to figure the human queen out, trying to see how the negotiations could potentionally go. And they'd all observed it in Nasuada. "Especially of magic. And she's even paranoid that non magicians, like King Orrin, are trying to control her. She's paranoid that that's what the elves, dwarves, and riders are doing."
"This is bad," Eragon agreed, shaking his head in worry, realization in his eyes. "I've talked to Arya. She's going to be there at that meeting, regardless. But she'd never mentioned it was this bad."
"I don't think she quite knew how to explain how much she's changed," Murtagh replied.
Silence was between them after that, and Eragon looked thoughtful. "Let me know how the meeting goes," he told his brother. "In fact, I'll probably be scrying the meeting. Regardless, let me know how it goes, anyways.
Murtagh nodded. Then he swiped through the bowl.
He sighed. It wasn't what he wanted. But then again, what did he expect? He was part of the order.
He leaned into Thorn.
(Light Point of View)
Light and Misa were standing in front of a magician. This one... could prove to be useful. And if not... well... Light could always kill him...
He was dressed simply, and was clearly in poverty. He had black hair and blue eyes, his face rough from being barely unshaven, and yet he had no beard.
"You sure?" Light leaned back, surveying this man for deception. It was a dark place, a dark house, practically a hovel. This was what many magicians had been reduced to, due to her unruly taxation policy on magicians, and other laws she'd made against magicians.
The man looked around nervously. "We've all been concerned with Nasuada's corrupt policies. I helped her during the war! And this is how I get treated?! Just becuase I'm a magician? Since when have I done anything to anyone? Why should I be treated and suspected as a criminal automatically because I'm a magician?!"
"Hmm..." Light thought. Maybe he could revise his policy somewhat. This Nasuada looked like a trouble maker. While he still wanted to get rid of criminals, he'd considered using magicians to do it. But perhaps he should help magicians instead considering how they were suffering...
And already he was forming his perfect world in his mind.
"Tell me about these fairths," Misa popped up at that, dead serious.
The man looked at them. "We've uncovered some information on magic. It's possible to make realistic rendering of someone on a surface that has pigments on it."
Both Light and Misa exchanged looks. Almost like a photo. That might work.
"And you can get into anyone's mind?" Light asked.
"Yes, who's unprotected," the magician said. Then he frowned. "But you two that is. Why, I don't know. It's like you don't even exist, like your minds don't even exist."
Light was pretty sure he knew why. Both of them were haunted by shinigami. Misa had pulled a favor, and they'd both touched each others' notebooks. As such, they could both see each others' shinigami.
"And what are you willing to do?" Misa asked.
"Anything!" the man was desperate. "This isn't what I wanted in a next monarch! She must be stopped!"
'I can work with that,' Light thought, and he decided to pull his card. "Can you extend a person's life indefinitely?"
The man hesitated. "Immmortality? Apart from becoming a dragon rider, I don't know."
"Find a way," Misa demanded, her hand resting on Light's shoulders.
"With magic, it might be possible," the man mused. The man got up and went further into his house, and when he was far enough away, Light and Misa began talking.
"You don't really think he'll find a way, do you?" Light asked his girlfriend.
"I won't make the trade otherwise," Misa replied. "Half of infinity is still infinity. It would be useful to have a way to continue on. Otherwise, we'll just find a magician to do the dirty work." Both their eyes trailed to the magician sorting through his papers in the shack.
"Say he finds a fountain of youth," Light proposed. "What then?" While he was loathe to make a trade himself, Misa had a point. Half of infinity was still infinity. They would still live forever. Moreover, the shinigami would live forever.
"You mean you want to," she glanced at the magician, and made a gesture across her throat.
"Maybe," Light said. "But preferably no. However, if he knows too much..."
"I don't think he'l betray us," Misa replied. "He's desperate to fix things. This Nasuada doesn't sound too good. Maybe we have our work cut out for us." She paused for a moment. "Do you think we can do magic?"
"I don't know," Light replied, and he considered. Magicians were watched. "But I say let's avoid learning how in case we can. I'd rather have someone else do the dirty work for us."
"Someone who can glean information," Misa realized.
"And maybe enchant others to do the same," Light replied. "We only need names and faces of criminals. The death notes will do the rest. We can make people spill the information, if necessary."
"And have someone pick it up," Misa realized.
"Or be present to hear it," Light had in mind.
At this point, the magician came back. He sighed. "I could try to form a complicated spell, try to stop ageing. I can't guarantee it would work..."
"Try it," Misa demanded.
The man began murmuring and chanting. Misa gasped as she glowed. Shortly later, the magician collapsed.
He was knocked out cold. Misa turned to her shinigami, Kye. "Make the trade," she commanded.
Instantly, her expression changed. Misa chuckled in wonder. Light knew that she was seeing the death date of the magician since she couldn't see his.
"And it appears that half of infinity is still infinity," Kye murmured in a low voice, an unusual smile on his face.
Misa turned to Light. "You're not going to rely on me completely, are you?"
Light considered. He could tell that Kye had been honest. Misa's life was extended indefinitely. As such, he had no reason to resist making the trade for shinigami eyes himself.
The magician stirred and got up. "Do the same for me," Light demanded.
The magician was surprised. "How can you be so sure it worked?"
Light glanced at Misa.
"I'm sure."
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