Dawn In A Burning World

Eragon awoke with a almost reactionary start, not like a startled action, but more of a it happened again sort of awakening. It was a strange thing in the eye of the beholder to see this happen. His eyes were open and a frightened look was on his face, disbelief was in his eye and whatever had awoken him wasn't normal. He looked around, wary of might be waiting in his tent, he cautiously got out of the small cot that had been prepared for him and looked around, there was no danger waiting for him in the cramped space. He knew he should be greatful for the tent, most of the solders were sleeping on the cold hard ground with rain pooring down on them half the night. In some ways he envied them, he couldnt quite place it but for some reason he detested this comfort. The thing that realy pained him was that he could not sleep near Saphira like he wished, the closest that he could get to her was having her behind the tent.

Warily he walked over to where he had hung Saphiras saddle and pulled it open, he rifled through what was in it. Some dried meat that was a couple weeks old, an empty waterskin, some bloddy trowsers, then he found what he was looking for, the only clean tunic he had left, he knew he was beeing self concious about it but it annoyed him not to have clean cloths, it was just one of those odd manerisms he had begun to develop. Sighing he pulled it on over his knotted tan chest, in the recent days he had become the attention of the young medical attendants working on the wounded soilders, they seemed to find it a game to flirt with him. He also took out a special belt that Oromis had given him and strapped that on. The belt which was snug around his waist,had supposedly belonged to a rider before there fall.

He walked out of the tent slowly a tiredly, this was the third morning in arrow that he had been awoken by a somewhat disturbing or scary dream. The first two had involved Murtagh taunting him about being a weak son of a traitor and a murderer, but the one that had awoken him this morning was different, it was almost real and it scared him more than anything else. The images were so vived to him in his mind that it burned him to think about them. What scared him most of all was the way the man had used the Ancient Language, the one word, Nisar, he had never heard before, the other word, Brisingr, he was well aquainted with. He debated about waking Saphira an telling her about the dream but he resisted the urge to do so, it would only worry her. He walked slowly along contemplating the meening of the dream, but in the end he gave up. He couldn't seem to wrap his mind around the true nature of the dream.

As he neared the edge of the Vardens camp, he paused to look out over the Burning Plains, the light of dawn had just started break on the horizon and as it caught the plains they looked beautiful. No matter how bloody of a history the held he couldnt help but to admire them in the first shinning rays of day. He regretfully ploded back to his camp taking notice of know one that he passed. He paused when he reached Angelas tent, she was the one person, the one person in the world who might understand what was going on, she would already be up he knew that from experiance. As he played with the idea he heard a mental conversation going on in his head, it was not something he had meant to heard, nore wanted to but he did, the mintue he did he realized who it was.

"Solembum we must tell him"

"Angela you know we cannot, not with the stakes being this high"

"Like thats ever mattered before"

"Times have changed Angela things are not as they seemed"

"Does that make a difference"

"Yes it does"

"He does not even have suffecent enough knowledge to understand it"

"Yes he does..."

"What!"

"I told him about the Menoa Tree when we first met"

"Im risking it, that right there could have destroyed the war effort"

"It had to be done, your knowledge is limited, my knowledge however goes beyond that and i understand what would happen knowing what i know"

"Solembum if we tell him we could end this right now"

"No it wouldnt and you know it, you may act like a fortune teller but in the end your knowledge forces you t understand what is really going on and this time we cannot!"

"Fine...i conceed... but im still angry"

And with that the conversation ended and Angela stormed out without even noticing Eragon, she seemed to be in a flustered rage that had completely consumed her. Sighing with contempt for the world Eragon walked to his tent in a sort of deppresed disgruntled way. As he flopped down on the bed he went over what he had heard in his mind, the person they had been talking about had been him there was no doubt about that but now suddenly there was the mention of the Menoa Tree and a certain knowledge than Angela must have discovered. It confused him to a state of misery over his existance. Suddenly a voice burst into his thoughts "Hello little one"

"Hello"

"You dont sound too bright"

"Im not'

"May i press as too why"

"I dont..i dont want worry you"

"Eragon the more you keep your troubles to your self the more they destroy you...now tell me what worries you"

And with that he told her all about the dream involving the laughing man and the strange beings and about Angela's conversation with Soelmbum, she seemed throughout the narritive to reflect not only curiosity but worry for him. In some ways this helped Eragon but in others it tortured him, especially the fact the Saphira was worried for him.

Reflection on this dark time Eragon commented to Saphira "Why are we fighting this war"

She replied with a simple yet disturbing reply "Because its the only thing we can do"