Eragon looked out at the rising sun and gave a heartfelt sigh. The land swept far below them and everything was miniscule. A soothing purr emitted from low in Saphira's throat under him.
What is troubling you, partner-of-my-heart?Saphira queried. She was worried about him. Eragon had been silent for the whole time they had been in the air. Usually flying was enough to bring anyone out of the dumps. It had been for Jeod earlier that morning, when Eragon had fulfilled his promise to let him ride Saphira. It rankled her that she had been handed off like a possession to be lent, but Jeod was a friend of Brom's. Therefore, she bore with it and at least had the satisfaction of feeling Jeod's joy and awe at riding her, the queen of the sky.
Glaedr is still unresponsive,Eragon replied in response to her question. Oromis and Glaedr had passed into the void two nights ago and Glaedr's heart of hearts radiated pure sorrow from within. The elf and dragon had been together for centuries, so Glaedr was completely within his right to mourn Oromis. Still, it was depressing feeling the immeasurable grief pouring out of his heart of hearts that he had given them.
Saphira could think of nothing to say that would lighten Eragon's load. She tilted her wings and made to fly back to the Varden's encampment. If Eragon was lost to her, she knew she would go after his murderers and render them apart limb from limb before departing this world. That opinion was not open to Glaedr. His heart of hearts kept his spirit locked in this world.
Each lost in their thoughts, they descended among the brightly colored tents and pavilions. Eragon dismounted as Blodhgarm came up to him. He and the other eleven elves that had been sent to him by the Queen Islanzadi were his bodyguards and responsible for his safety at all times. It was reassuring having them nearby, but sometimes it was purely annoying.
"You should not have been so long, Shadeslayer. What if you were attacked? We would have been unable to protect you and Brightscales," the elf admonished him.
The sky is my territory. No one can best me there. Eragon was perfectly safe with me,Saphira growled. Eragon fought back a smile. He knew that it irked her how the elves were constantly checking up on them, Saphira in particular. Their persistent bothering made her feel like a newly hatched dragonling.
"Of course, Saphira. I meant no disrespect towards your capabilities. Please excuse my thoughtlessness." Blodhgarm bowed and twisted his hand over his sternum in the elven sign of loyalty. It would be rude not respond or to pursue the discussion, so Saphira had no option but to acknowledge the apology.
"Eragon!" They turned to greet Roran, Eragon's cousin, as he ran up to them. Each had already felt him approaching and his riled-up emotions, but still his expression was startling. "Eragon, Elain has gone into labor!"
Elain, Horst's delicate wife, was worryingly behind schedule. Her child had been due weeks ago and Elain was showing signs of strain. All of the villagers fretted. Elain was much respected and admired throughout Carvahall. The birth would be hard and potentially dangerous for both Elain and the babe.
"Horst asks if you will come and help. Your powers might be of use," Roran pleaded. Ah, Eragon thought. That explains his excitement.
"Lead me to their tent," Eragon responded quickly. He and Saphira followed Roran through the maze of tents to the villagers' section. Blodhgarm faded back into the shadows as easily as if he were one of them.
They reached Horst's tent to find a large number of people surrounding it. Katrina, Roran's wife and pregnant herself, sided up to them. She grabbed Roran's hand and said, "I'm glad you found him." Responding to Eragon's look of inquiry she said, "It isn't going well. Elain may have need of your magic. Come look for yourself."
I shall wait out here for you, little one. Go on and see what you can do, Saphira assured him.
So saying, Katrina led the way through the throng of people. A path was hastily cleared for them the pass through. Katrina lifted the edge of the tent for them to go through, and then followed them in.
It was dark in the tent and rather crowded. Angela was there, as Eragon should have known. The witch was kneeling by the bed which Elain lay upon and turned at their arrival. Various plants and bottles were strewn around the bed. Angela's face was grim as she surveyed the newcomers.
"Well, it's about time you got here," she addressed Eragon. "See what you can do. You may have more luck than me. I have tried every cure and herbal remedy that I know and yet I fear that it is not enough. If something is not done soon, they will both be lost."
On the other side of the bed, Horst stood holding his wife's hand. Upon his face was the expression of one who sees the thing he fears the most. It was clear that there was nothing more that he wanted than to take away his wife's pain and discomfort, but was unable to do so.
"Help her, Eragon. Please. If anyone can, you can. Don't let Elain be taken away from me." His voice held immeasurable amounts of desperation and despair. His sons, Baldor and Albriech, on either side nodded in agreement as they gazed down at their mother.
"I will do my best," Eragon responded. He sat down next to Angela and took Elain's hand from her. Extending his mind outward, he searched for the women's conscience and found it. He plunged himself deep into her mind to the root of the trouble. Upon finding it, he brought forth his magic and let it flow into her. He did not bind it into a specific spell, but rather gave it as he would a blessing, letting it flow into her body and heal it. It gave her energy and the will to fight on, to win this battle of life or death.
It seemed a long time that he sat there, holding her hand. In reality, Eragon knew it to only be a minute or two. Eventually he was rewarded for his efforts by the sound of a baby's cry as it entered this life. He relaxed and severed the connection between his and Elain's mind. Opening his eyes to a scene of chaos, he allowed himself a quiet grin. Eragon had saved two lives today, the lives of Elain and of her child.
The babe was healthy looking as it sucked greedily at its mother's breast. Horst, Baldor, and Albriech looked on with wonder and amazement at the new member of their family.
"You did a good deed, Eragon Shadeslayer," a musical voice intoned at his ear. It sounded like water falling over rocks in a stream. Eragon could smell pine needles and the forest. He did not need to turn around to know whom it was that spoke to him.
"I did what I had to, Arya. Or should I start calling you Shadeslayer as well?" Eragon smiled at that, as did Arya. In the last battle, several foolish magicians had thought to turn the tide in their favor by bringing a powerful and dangerous Shade onto their side, but Eragon and Arya had foiled their plan. Arya had defeated the newly created Slade by stabbing him through the heart.
"That does not decrease the act's value," smiled Arya. Doubtless she had been thinking upon the same lines as Eragon.
"Indeed," said Horst from across the bed. "I am deeply indebted to you for this. You have my right arm if you did not already, Eragon."
"On the contrary, I have merely paid any debts that I owe you for all of the kindness you have shown me and your loyalty to Roran during your trek here," Eragon responded. He owed Horst much. The man had always shown much kindness towards Eragon's family and he felt deeply indebted to him.
"Oh, stop with all of this grand talk of debts and right arms. It is so trying on the nerves. Really now! It isn't healthy to always be surrounded by all you noble heroes. Everyone saying such silly things and being all serious and stuff." Now that the trial was over, Angela's face was once more cheery and the wicked glint had already made its entrance back into her eyes.
Eragon bit back a smile and saw Arya doing the same out of the corner of his eye. Angela was one of the strangest people that he had ever come across. She was filled with mystery, yet made you feel right at home. With an insatiable desire to be where the action was and as unique as a flightless dragon, there was never a dull moment with Angela around.
"Either way, I'm just glad I could help," Eragon said. After fending off many profusions of gratitude, he managed to make it outside and back to his tent with Saphira. He felt a sense of approval and pride coming from her.
Congratulations, dear one. Many people will spread word of this and you will be held in even higher regard for that act of kindness. You conducted yourself well. I am proud to call you my Rider.Saphira's eyes glinted at him in the light. Eragon was touched. He didn't think that it was that big of a deal. It hadn't been a difficult task, yet everyone was treating him as if he were a returning hero from war.
Eragon shrugged. It was a simple task. I hardly feel any drain on my powers.Reminded of his power, he took the time to place some in the Belt at his waist. It was a princely gift, given to him by Oromis when he left Ellesmera. In it were secreted twelve diamonds of the highest quality. Gems were used by the Riders to store extra energy in times of peace in anticipation for times of war. There was one on his sword, Brisingr, and Brom's ring, the yawe ring, held vast amounts of energy. Brom had placed all of his energy into it while he waited out his days in Carvahall.
Thinking of Brom made Eragon sad. He had respected the old storyteller when he lived in Carvahall. Later, when Saphira's egg appeared to him in the forest, Eragon developed a higher level of affection for the old man. After Brom's death at the hands of the Ra'zac, he discovered that Brom had been a Rider himself, but his dragon, Saphira, had been killed by the Forsworn.
And only recently, Eragon had been told that Brom was his father. Father. He was half-brother to Murtagh son of Morzan, First and Last of the Forsworn and Brom's greatest enemy. For a long while, Eragon had suffered under the delusion that Morzan was his father until Oromis, Glaedr, and Saphira had told him otherwise. He and Murtagh shared the same mother, Selena, sister to Garrow, father to Roran.
Eragon wondered idly how Murtagh would take the news. He shifted uncomfortably atop Saphira. As if I would have the chance to tell. I wish that Murtagh was still my friend instead of my enemy. I miss him.They had once been great friends and there was no other mortal that Eragon would desire by his side in a fight. His half-brother was a splendid fighter.
It does you ill to think of him. Strech your mind to other topics. Think of the lives you have saved. Think of our purpose in this war.There were few humans, dwarves, or Urgals that could match the wisdom of Saphira.
I know what our purpose is. We are the only ones who can achieve it. The death of Galbatorix.