Chapter 1: Reflection

Denethor looked upon Uru'Baen from a balcony in the Black Citadel. The city itself looked sick, he yearned to know what it looked like when it was still Ilirea. He had read that it was a sight to behold, majestic and breath-taking the texts said. He asked Galbatorix once, but his reply was less than satisfactory: he said its beauty was miniscule compared to now with the updates that they made. Denethor scoffed, the city was plagued by greed and ignorance, how could that city be beautiful.

You cannot question its beauty little one; it is still the same city.

He inwardly sighed knowing what she said to be true. I know, but it's hard to imagine it being beautiful under Galbatorix's rule. Why must you point out the holes in my logic?

Because it's funny. She said, giving the dragons equivalent of a chuckle.

He smiled. You always know how to cheer me up Saphira.

You know, I remember a time when you use to be in awe of the city. You even called it a wonder.

Time changes all Saphira; I merely grew out of my childhood innocence.

Alright mister mature, brood all you want, I am tired from my hunt and want to rest.

As Saphira flew off he began to see the beauty in the city. The sparkling spires of glass reflected with the soft orange and purple hues of the sunset, casting rainbow murals across the city. With the day ending people were wrapping their day up and clearing the city streets to the taverns to drink the night away or home to their families. With the city beginning to still it gave off a serene vibe, calming and peaceful. Maybe this city wasn't so bad after all he thought with a smile on his face forgetting if only for a second the stress and turmoil this life had brought upon him. After admiring the city for a while he decided to head home, it was getting late and his mother was probably worried as she often did.

As he walked in the door to their small castle his mother greeted him with a bear hug.

"Mother I am almost a man there is no need to worry if I am a little late coming home." He said gasping for air.

"You cannot tell a mother to not worry for her child so don't even try Eragon." She said. "Now come to the table Rose has already made dinner for us."

He wanted her to call him Denethor but she had adamantly refused saying that she would call her "baby boy" what she wanted. There was no point in arguing with her, as she could be just as stubborn as Saphira could in these matters.

"I made it especially for you Lord Era-… I mean Denethor," Rose said with blushed cheeks almost forgetting his name change, "I know you prefer a vegetarian diet. It is a carrot, mushroom, and potato soup."

Rose always had been thoughtful towards him, ever since she had become his servant she had sought to accommodate his bizarre requests. He had always made sure to show his gratitude; he did not want her to feel as if she were unappreciated.

"Thank you Rose." He said gruffly before sitting down quickly and eating at the same swift pace.

"Why the rush sweetie? You act as if you haven't eaten in a week."

"I am just ready for bed is all, I have a rather arduous day tomorrow and I want to be well rested for it."

He finished his dinner and bolted to his room before his mother could bully him into staying and conversing with her. She had the unfortunate habit of doing that at the most inopportune time when he yearned for the peace and quiet of his room.

Lying in bed his mind began to wonder. His life had been changed so drastically over the course of just a few years. At the ripe young age of 12 Saphira had hatched for him and set his path in a complete 180 degree turn, setting in motion events that would forever shape the man he was. Galbatorix had taken him under his wing and trained him into the fierce rider he was today. Now nearly four years later he was no longer a child; how could he be. He was forced to grow up and shoulder responsibilities no teenager should ever have to. He was Galbatorix's second – in – command seeing to it that those loyal to him stayed loyal by whatever means necessary. This had prompted his name change, he did not want the people he loved, however few they may be, to associate Eragon to the monstrous acts he had to perform. Or maybe he was hiding it from himself that it was he committing these villainous acts. It was times like these he wished for the simplicity a child's life held. No responsibilities, no dark acts, and definitely no worries.

He sighed and thought back to his childhood. As a child Eragon was lonely, lonely in the sense that he had no true friends. Yes he had friends, but the friends he had were more acquaintances. He much preferred the company of his mother, his beautiful mother Selena. He would help her with the household chores, at least until she forced him to go play with the other children. At first he argued that she needed his help or that he felt ill, but he always lost and begrudgingly obliged. After he awhile he stopped fighting it and simply gave in to her demands. Although he never enjoyed the company of the kids he loved his mother and would do anything to please her.

He smiled as his thoughts drifted to his mother. She had been his rock during these tumultuous events, keeping him grounded when he felt helplessly lost. He dared not even think about would he would have done without her. Granted he had Saphira, but even she could not provide the motherly affection he required.

With that appeasing thought he drifted into a peaceful sleep, having pleasant dreams with fond memories of his mother allowing his subconscious a moments reprieve from the next days inevitable events.