Chapter 2

I still don't know how many people have viewed my story, but I will still continue because I still have proof that people are. I have one review and no views. Doesn't make sense.

I'm also sorry to say that school is starting on the 1st so I won't be able to update during the week. I'll only be able to do so during the weekends. I sincerely apologise, but I have a life to live. I'm already a year younger than the grade I'm going into and it's quite tough handling work that is higher than you. Just a heads up notice. I still have a few more blissful days.

I also request that if any of you find any grammatical mistakes or misspelled words, PM me, or leave a review on it, and I'll get it fixed.

'Please make sure you return to me,' his mate begged him.

Eragon had spent the last month gathering information from different cities regarding The Mystery Master. He used the same tactics Brom had once shown him. He found a tavern and found a few travellers. He would then join them and pay for all the drinks they could possibly consume. After that, he acted as if he was drunk, and then interrogate them. In this manner, he managed to gather as much. The Mystery Master was a man who spent his life just beyond the jurisdiction of Alagaësia and the dragon Riders. He hunted shades for people and made his living out of the money he received from his assassinations. He also learned that the man was spectacular with a sword. Better even, than Arya who was the only person other than Oathbreaker who could best him in a sword dual. According to some people, he was often addressed as Du Ebrithil. Oromis had, in the meanwhile, taught him several things he could now do with the gem inside him. Wherever Oromis's spirit-body was, he could supply energy to him and make a difference to the real world. For example, if Oromis was standing next to a person whom upon Eragon had a desperate urge to punch, Oromis could do it with his own fist, but Eragon would need to supply the energy to do so.

Arya had become close to insane when Eragon had told her that he would be gone for even longer. She had begged him on her hands and knees to either not go, or take her with him. He had rejected both ideas. She was a queen and her duty called to her, as his to him. She had argued that he was also the king of the elves. He had countered saying that she had been the one to make him king. He hadn't done it of his own accord. She had set forward several different arguments, some of which he countered successfully, others which forced him to stay quiet. Eventually, after what had seemed like a never ending hour, she had given in. So far in their relationship, she had been the dominant partner. Whatever she said or did, he complied. Out of his own will. This was the only time that he wouldn't allow her to control him. He didn't mind the way Arya manipulated him, but it still scared him because of how powerless he was without her. During his time searching for information, he had craved her presence. Her domination causing him to be correct in most of the decisions he made.

'I will Arya. I will. But for now you need to let me go or else there won't be any return.'

Reluctantly, Arya released him. Saphira laughed which sounded more like a bugle than anything else. He mounted her quickly and Saphira leaped into the sky. The area she had lifted off was a cloud of dust from the vacuum of air. Fírnen watched the two of them longingly. He had threatened Eragon regarding Saphira, saying that if she didn't return, he would be hunted by a great green dragon for the rest of his life, and that even Arya wouldn't be able to keep him safe. Eragon didn't want to look back because he knew about the pangs of separation from experience. Looking back would only add more salt to the wound. They were to fly for the rest of the day. According to a source in Gil'ead, the last anyone had seen of The Mystery Master had been in a city named Wallkill, near the northern edge of the elven forests. He had left the city with a trail of a dead shade outside the tavern.

Eragon was going to take advantage of this and cut him off from outside the city, seeing as it was close to the border of Du Weldenvarden. Eragon had spent a lot of time on dragon back recently. It made him bored, but Saphira loved it. Flying joyed her beyond belief. Although she spent most of her time flying, it still thrilled her to be so free. Oromis sat with his legs dangling off the left side of Saphira. After a seemingly eternal flight, the tree line ended. Plains stretched out as far as he could see. After a half hour, a city came into his field of view. The walls of the city were white and it was only a little smaller than Ilirea. There was an orchard to the west of the city and Eragon could make out two small figures heading towards them one was in white and the other in black. The sun was yet to rise and Eragon decided to intercept the two. Perhaps they could provide him with information.

'Beware young Rider,' Oromis warned. 'They may look innocent, but these people aren't your average Alagaësian populace. They detest the dragons because they were not included in the pact made by the elves. They tried several times to wage war but we elves barred their way and thus, nobody had any idea they hated them so much.'

'Yes Ebrithil,' Eragon replied.

Saphira descended and Eragon jumped off. The men in front of him had their swords drawn. The one on the right had a hood that covered his face. He had a long cloak that went down to below his knees and an armada of weapons. He had more weapons than Rya did although Eragon didn't recognise most of them. The ones he did recognise was an axe, two swords, two katanas, throwing knives, throwing hatchets, two crossbows, a bow and a quiver of arrows and another containing crossbow bolts. The weapons were, unlike Rya, exposed. They were all attached on the outside of his clothes. The man on his left, looked more like a boy, except for the facial hair making Eragon think differently. He had bright blonde hair and a pale white face. He looked so ordinary that it seemed as if he had been disguised. The man on the right spoke first.

'Hello Eragon,' he started. Eragon's hand flew to Brisingr's hilt. The man knew his name which put him in danger. He drew Brisingr in one deft move, but was soon disarmed. The man on the right span on the spot, twisting his sword in an awkward way. A clang resounded through the gloomy air of the rising sun as Brisingr flew out of his hands and into the bark of one of the trees. Eragon was astounded. The man had seemed as though the sword was about to fall out of his hands, but instead, had disarmed him in one swing. Eragon stood gaping at the hand which hand been holding Brisingr. He reached for the magic in him and started reciting an incantation. A four bladed disk flew out from the hand of the hooded stranger and cut him on his neck. He felt a prickly sensation as Oromis's skin grew over the wound.

'Not as fast as you used to be are you?' he taunted. Eragon was confused. This man was acting as if they had known each other long ago.

Saphira growled slightly, causing the man on the left to shift uncomfortably.

'I'm sorry… have we met?' he asked tentatively.

'Yes. You heal fast. What happened to the scar I left you all those years ago?' he asked.

Realisation struck him hard in the face. Eragon Oathbreaker had had a long scar trailing down the side of his cheek. That's why he had called him Eragon. He had probably found out that he was looking for him and mistaken him for Oathbreaker since they both had the same name.

'Do you mean one from under my eye?' Eragon questioned. He wanted to make sure his discovery made any sense before he made assumptions.

'Yes. You don't even seem to remember it do you? Remember the promise you made that day? Remember how you treated the person who taught you so much and cared for you for so long? Remember how you attacked him and made him do something he never thought he could possibly do to a student like you?'

'I'm not him!' Eragon protested. 'I'm Eragon Shadeslayer. Kingkiller. Argetlam. Konungr abr alfakyn. Not the one you're talking about! The Eragon you know is the one that attacked me. He blew off a half of my being and made me believe I was in the clutches of death. My mate took me back to Du Weldenvarden and put this gem into me.' Eragon took off his tunic for a brief moment before showing him the gem from Oromis's sword.

He then picked up Brisingr and cut himself on the arm. Blood didn't come out as the man had expected and the wound cleared away, replaced with the skin of his old master.

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