Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or settings of the Inheritance Cycle.
Prologue - Chapter 2
Initially, Eragon felt panic after seeing their plight. As beautiful as the chamber's interior was, it did nothing to allay his fears of being forever trapped within the mysterious tower. But he knew that panic would do little to help the situation so he used the meditation techniques taught to him by his late master, Oromis, to steady his breathing and relieve the tightness in his chest. Through his link with his partner, Eragon felt Saphira do the same.
Blodhgarm wore the same cool expression of calm he always seemed to have as he approached what was once the door to the outside. Running his hands along it for a moment, he turned back to Eragon and shook his head. "It is as if the door never existed."
Though he kept his emotions steady, Eragon felt himself a fool for stepping into the tower without truly considering what may await them. Worry over the lack of any potential stops beyond the tower may have influenced his decision, but looking back, he knew he should have given the matter more thought.
Do not trouble yourself. No blame came from Saphira as her thoughts touched his. You couldn't have known. And besides, there was no other place for us to travel to.
"It was either this place, or possibly fatal long walk past," offered Ulithr. "I for one am glad for the shade." Eragon saw that he made a careful note of ignoring the dragon skull and neck bones.
"Strange, isn't it. This place should feel like a furnace with the heat outside, yet it is quite cool." Away from them, Danlir paced slowly around the edge of the room, admiring the jeweled mosaics. "A material that blocks our thoughts, and maybe the effects of the weather, and enough jewels to make the wealthiest of men and women jealous. I think we may have stumbled on to quite a treasure."
A beautiful grave is still a grave, Eragon thought to himself as he eyed the dragons remains. He made sure not to let any of the others hear that thought, but the look Saphira gave him suggested she caught the nature of it.
You shouldn't worry so much, little one. We saw openings along the surface of the tower's rise, and they looked big enough for me to fit through. High up as they may be, I can easily fly us all down.
At Saphira's words, Eragon felt a little foolish and thankful. "Then we have only one way to go. Let's just hope this tower isn't a maze." Despite his words, the state of the dead dragon still troubled him.
Leaving behind the entrance chamber, they discovered that the rooms beyond were very much the same. Mosaics covering entire walls depicted strange scenes, such as a large city constructed with a rigid but somehow elegant style, or a scene in the sky with creatures that looked like eagles. With the texts carved in the spaces next to the pictures, they could only assume they explained the images, but Eragon, nor the elves had ever seen such scripture before.
Reaching what felt like the centre of the tower's first floor, they discovered a large circular hole in the roof, big enough for Saphira to fly through. Peering into it, they discovered it went through the next roof as well, and the roof after.
If there were a set of stairs, they didn't bother searching for them.
Using the ancient language to lighten their weight, Eragon and the elves were flown up by Saphira, for a total of six floors. At the highest, the roof was whole.
Though they passed through the levels quickly, it was obvious to them all that all of the six levels were very much the same, a mix of images created from precious gems, and text beside each of them. Though they were a marvel to view, Eragon didn't want to waste too much time admiring them.
As they searched the sixth floor, they found a wide passageway that curled around the edge of the interior, leading upwards. Unlike the rooms outside, the passageway was quite bland, it's walls made from a stone the colour of honey, whilst it's floors were tiled with dark squares split by tiny white lines.
"The base of the the tower alone looked to be a quarter of a league high," said Danlir as they moved up the passage. "It may be some time before the reach the windowed rise."
"A good thing we are immortal, then," replied Ulithr, a soft smile upon his lips.
As they walked up the passage, the silence of the empty tower was broken up by the sound of running water. As the passage flattened out and ahead, Eragon saw an archway built into the side of the wall, leading into another level. The noise came from there.
Beyond, the passage continued to climb.
Ulithr frowned. "I smell fruit...and trees..."
Blodhgarm moved ahead. "It smells as though we are approaching our own home of Du Weldenvarden."
Eragon followed behind, and turned to face the interior of the seventh level.
As opposed to seeing the inside of a stone structure like he expected, Eragon saw a wide forest glade, with a flowing stream cutting through the middle of it. The trees and plants weren't large compared to those found in Du Weldenvarden, but the thickness of their foliage completely obscured the roof. In the space not filled by trees and shrubs, rich green grass grew. As Eragon walked forward, he noticed that the grass seemed to shimmer with a gentle purple light. The purple light that caught on the grass also seemed to flow through a transparent mist that surrounded the edges of the glade.
It was beautiful, rivalling even the luscious vales of Ellesmera. For a moment, Eragon was reminded of his last time there with Arya, but quickly suppressed the thought.
Saphira sniffed at the air. I can see no light source...yet there is light...it's just the same with the previous rooms.
Muttering in the ancient language, Ulithr summoned an orb of water from the stream. He then stared at it, as if waiting for something to happen, but when nothing did, he took a sip. "It's not poisoned, or fouled. It's cold, and very sweet."
Everyone moved forward to try it for themselves.
The water was the most pure liquid Eragon had ever consumed. After swallowing it down, he felt quite refreshed and even a little more energetic. "Does this water having healing properties?"
"There is no spell cast upon it, yet I cannot deny that I feel revitalised after taking a drink." As nice as the water had been, Blodhgarm had an uncertain look upon his face. "Perhaps it is the effect of trees whose roots feed off the water. There are a few species here that I do not recognise."
Blodhgarm left the stream and moved over to a tree nearby, one that was bearing fruit. The fruit was yellow with an orange hue to it, in the shape of a large tear drop. The stalk at the top of the fruit was so thin, it looked like a breeze could knock the fruit off. As Ulithr did with the water, Blodhgarm spoke with the ancient language after taking one of the fist sized fruits from the tree. When he was satisfied, he took a bite from it.
"How it is?" asked Eragon, coming up beside him.
"Like a mix between a strawberry and apple, but with the sting of an orange." Blodhgarm took one of the tear drop fruits and handed it to Eragon. But in the process of doing so, he quickly dragged one of his sharpened nails across Eragon's arm.
Eragon felt the pain, but did not flinch. "What was that for?"
"Try the fruit. Forgive me for using you as a test, but I have a hunch."
Taking a bite of the fruit's soft flesh, a delicious flavour hit his sense of taste, which left a pleasant tingling in his mouth. The same sensation seemed to spread as he swallowed. Lifting his arm, Eragon watched as the cut Blodhgarm had given him vanished before his eyes.
Amazing. Saphira ate a couple of them, and Eragon wasn't sure if she was referring to the taste or the effect. Does the fruit have any magical properties?
"It would appear not," said Blodhgarm, finishing his fruit. "Yet it heals just as well as a spell of healing would."
Though the glade was vast, this was the only type of fruit they could find. After each of them ate their share, they gathered some to take with them. They also stocked up on the water.
Eragon was the first to start moving. "As amazing as this place is, we can't stay here forever. We should move on."
Saphira licked her teeth in satisfaction. With the floors below as they were, and a forest within stone here, I look forward to what we find next.
The group made their way back to the passage, and started to climb again. It wasn't long before it came to an end, and the eighth floor was before them.
It was a library, the likes of which Eragon had never seen before. Not even the hoard of books and scrolls collected by Galbatorix could compare.
The ceiling was almost a hundred feet high, yet the cases holding the books stretched up just as far. Though there were no ladders, each bookcase was split with enough room that two dragons could walk side by side. The only exception to this were two large walkways making a cross shape in the room, breaking the library floor into four equal parts. These walkways could fit four of Saphira, side by side.
Books of diverse colours and sizes filled each shelf to the brim, with some of them lying on the floor in neat piles. Without opening them, Eragon could already tell that they all were written with the same scripture as the wall text on the first floors.
On the other side of the room, Eragon could make out an arch identical to that which decorated the entrance they had come through.
As much as he'd like to discover the knowledge held within this library, his inability to read the text would mean they'd just be wasting time. However, the chance that books of their language being here wasn't all that low, considering it's size.
Breaking off, the group walked between the cases, eyeing the many spines of the books. Checking each case took quite a while, but in the end, they had no luck. With little else to do here, they moved on to the next level.
Only to find another library almost identical to the one below.
Eragon couldn't help but be blown away. Never before had he seen such a vast collection of knowledge. The elves had an impressive set up in Ellesmera, which might have stood against only a single floor, but with a second floor, it was dwarfed. Even more so when they discovered a third level to the library. And a fourth.
"Can you imagine what might be stored here?" said Ulithr after they joined from searching the fourth level. "Our histories would have filled up a single level, but with four this large, it may gave us hints just to how old the civilisation this place belongs to may be,"
On the fifth floor, they saw much of the same, except for one difference. At the centre of the room, where the two main walkways met, there was a large clearing, surrounding by a decorative knee high fence. In the centre of that, was a very detailed and coloured map built into the floor.
At first, none of them recognised the land they saw. Then...
"Is that Alagaesia?"
It certainly looked like Alagaesia, but the labels did little to help.
I didn't realise...it was so small.
Before the defeat of Galbatorix, Eragon and Saphira had seen the true nature of the world along with Glaedr. The world was round and the sky was hollow. Such knowledge had prepared them to believe that lands lay beyond the borders of the maps depicting their homeland. But what they saw before them still shocked them.
Alagaesia was on the lower edge of a continent, stretching out towards the ocean away from the rest of the land mass. Above the Du Weldenvarden forest, there was a small range of mountains connected to the Spine, followed by the empty sea. Below the Beor mountains, it was the same. Alagaesia ended with the sea on the Western, Northern and Southern front. To the east, however, the land continued.
Alagaesia didn't even make up a quarter of the continent. It would be generous to say it made a sixth.
To the east of Alagaesia was the desert the party was now in. At it's longest point from east to west, the desert was two and a half times the width of Alagaesia. The tower was marked on the map, a little under half way through. Most of the desert was completely blank, aside from a small lake to the far north east of the tower, surrounding a marker that indicated a town. Beyond that, the desert receded.
To the east of the desert was a mountainous land filled with the green of forest and blue of rivers and lakes. It wasn't as wide as Alagaesia, but it stretched up a long coast before meeting a wall of mountains. In the centre, a large lake sat dotted with small islands. To it's north west, was a single mountain that looked like it's height could match that of this tower. Below the lake, past a small mountain range, was a forest covering the southern third of the land. Beyond it, across a small strait, was a large island, then the sea. Of all the lands the map showed, it was the most detailed and labelled.
There was a large mass of land to the north of the desert, but the browns, greys and whites made it seem quite desolate, along with it's lack of labels. To the deserts south, there was a small, yet green piece dotted with settlements.
"And to think, this may not be the limit to the world," muttered Ulithr. "Elves, Men and Urgals came from across the sea, so it wouldn't to unwise to guess land resided beyond the sea west of Alagaesia."
"The world is round." Eragon pointed to both Alagaesia, and the land east of the desert. "It's possible that the east side of this continent meets up with the west should you cross the sea." However, what Ulithr said was also possible. For all Eragon knew, this continent could be tiny in comparison to other, far off lands.
Eragon had already explained what he had seen to the elves when he had flown far above the clouds, so the concept wasn't new to them. "If we are heading west, then that means we may be heading to the most populated realm on this land. That's not something we want."
Of all the lands, the north appeared the most empty. However, the white blanketing it's display suggested that it was a land of cold, which was not a suitable place to raise dragon eggs.
Eragon stared at the map, troubled. He was aware that the didn't need a land devoid of people, just somewhere private, apart from the people, or inaccessible to them. But that was not the main cause for his worries. The cause of his trouble was the desert that seemed to make up the centre of the continent.
It was enormous, bigger then the lands surrounding it. It divided the realms by a inhospitable piece of heat absorbing land, putting such distance between them that travelling from one to the other made it impractical to settle so far away. Should Eragon and his companions make it to the east, the journey to and from Alagaesia could be possibly months of constant travel, and that was if they survived the journey through the desert. Also, Eragon was having doubts that his magic would allow him to communicate over such a distance without putting the Eldunari under stress.
The possibility that they could sail around existed, but Eragon didn't like the idea of relying on a route through unknown waters. The picture of a large serpent looking creature in the bottom right corner made him wary. They had already encountered the Nidhwal when travelling to Vreongard. Who knows that the waters of the east would hold?
"We should burn this map into our memories, then move on," said Blodhgarm. "If worse comes to worse and we must turn back, this would be a remarkable thing to present to the people of Alagaesia as a fairth, once we find a usable surface."
Everyone was in an agreement. To be safe, they all recorded their own memory of it and after comparing to each others, they were satisfied enough to leave the library behind, heading up to the next floor.
Above, they discovered yet another library floor. Rather then search this one, they simple left it behind. Or would have, if not for the peculiar discovery at the opening of passage to the thirteenth floor.
Eragon bent over to pick it up. At first, it looked like all the other books. It was small and had a bland, dark green cover with a black spine. There were no words on the cover or spine, but when he opened it, he saw that it was written in his own language.
"The Diary of Rickard Wandermind?"
The name he spoke elicited a reaction of realization from the elves behind him. Blodhgarm came up behind him and peered at his discovery. "Rickard Wandermind was a known rider before the fall."
Ulithr joined him. "He was an adventuring sort. I've never met him, but he was well known for two things: his love of exploration, and his willingness to ignore his duties to favor his own whims."
"Then that dragon below?"
"It could be Liasynth, a dragon of brilliant emerald scales and peridot flesh" answered Danlir, dismayed. "Now that I recall, the size is similar. It looks like we've found where the last of Rickard's whims took him."
Eragon started to flip through the pages. "His diary is here, and that's obviously a bad sign, but his bones are not. Without the weather outside the ravage them, at least his remains should be here."
"Perhaps there is hope yet." Blodhgarm was the first to enter the passage. "Let us be off. We can read as we walk."
[A/N: Thanks for making it this far. Hope I haven't lost anyone yet. Thank you Marzipan007 and Armpit for being the first to review. As for your questions, I'll let you know as soon as the answers come to me. On another note, I've noticed a glaring mistake. Eragon was supposed to have a larger number of Elves with him. Until I rewrite this, lets just say they are camped on the edge of the desert, waiting until the smaller party has found a safe way through...please?]