Author's note:
I'm so sorry! There was no chapter last Sunday because of computer troubles that lasted into this morning. I finally got it fixed and was able to finish this chapter SUPER quick. It's not *super* long, but it's got some important information in it (well, more like important cliffhangers [lol sorry] but whatever). Next week provided my computer doesn't break again, the chapter will be ON TIME!
Chapter 4
Eragon jumped from his seat as the purple dragon exploded from the recess in the wall, lashing out with claws, tail, and teeth as it gyrated, a cloud of shining danger that moved about the hall with frightening speed. Fírnen and Saphira took after the it, attempting to keep the maddened beast at bay without harming it. Elva had disappeared from sight, and he could no longer sense her with his mind. Angela cried out as a jagged shard stabbed into her shoulder. She collapsed to her knees as blood dripped from the wound. Arya flew to her side, healing Angela's shoulder as she ran. She pulled Angela to her feet, then turned to Eragon.
"We need a shield! The pillars are going to collapse!" She said. As the words left her lips, the purple dragon bellowed a final time before twitching its tail and leaping into the sky. Elva's slight form shimmered and appeared on the dragon's back as its purple wings flapped hard, ascending quickly into the air. The final pillar holding up the massive stone ceiling cracked, and Eragon barked.
"Skölir!" a hazy bubble appeared around the group as the ceiling crumbled, the grinding of the massive stones making Eragon clap his hands to his ears. As the first pebbles hit the barrier, Eragon felt an unprecedented drop in his strength. Damn. Elva set wards to drain the power of continuing spells. Abandoning his strategy of blocking the falling rock, he cut the energy to the spell and yelled "Brisingr!". In his mind, he pictured a small ball of flame bursting outward with a pop and shaped the spell accordingly. A ball of blue flame sparked into existence in his cupped hands, growing bigger until he released the spell. A writhing ball of fire and energy burst forth eviscerating Elva's banners, crushing the smaller rocks into a fine sand, ejecting the massive boulders that had formed the ceiling moments before outward. A wave of energy pounded out from the perimeter of the spell, cracking the ground around the group. Eragon stood up from the crouching position he had taken, his head spinning.
What is Elva playing at? A dragon? She's not a rider! Why did she run away? Where did she run away to? Eragon scowled as Angela and Arya glanced at each other with concern. He jumped nimbly through the wreckage to the indent in which the purple dragon had been hiding. Saphira followed, the scattered pebbles cracking under her paws.
"Aptr." Eragon muttered. Backward. Show me what has happened here. He placed his hand upon the ground and closed his eyes, becoming still as a statue.
"Hmph! Even after all this time, you still seem to have a knack for creating trouble, Eragon." Angela teased. He waved a hand around his head in an irritated gesture, and Angela turned back to Arya, who had been watching Eragon intently, her brilliant green eyes narrowed. "You don't reveal much, my lady." Angela said.
"I've learned to hide much, and to share little. Of what do you wonder?" Arya asked, sensing that a question was dancing on the tip of the dark-haired herbalist's tongue.
"You've forgiven Eragon. Do you still love him?" Angela asked bluntly. "I won't apologize for asking, either. I'm far too old to worry about being tactful."
"I would expect nothing else, my friend. My feelings are...conflicted. I feel I can no longer reach him. He is wounded, by what I know not, but I do know that until he accepts my companionship fully once again I cannot help him."
"Give him time. He has been through more than most." Angela closed her mouth as Eragon stood, his knees cracking.
"Elva is not an enemy now, nor has she ever been. Of that I am certain." Eragon concluded with a relieved sigh. "She brought her dragon, Vórya here many years ago. How Elva came to be her master I cannot tell, but neither she nor the dragon have any evil intent. Only loss and confusion. We must find them, and soon." Eragon turned to Arya, eyes downcast. "I can fight no longer. WIll you accompany me?" Eragon asked, his voice half-pleading, half-hopeful. The young man who had pursued Arya so recklessly appeared for a moment, showing through his battle-weary face.
"Yes. Angela, you have your own matters to attend to in the city, correct?" Arya motioned to Fírnen, and the great emerald dragon lowered his head. A scroll was tied to a spine behind his ear, and this Arya retrieved before handing it to Angela. She took the scroll, pushing it deep into her pack before striking a leisurely pace out of the destroyed building. Eragon watched her leave, not moving until her bouncing curls disappeared around a corner. He returned to the circle of perfect stone left in the wake of his spell, the only piece of architecture not destroyed by the explosion.
"I will find Elva, but we will need food and water. Check the underground rooms, they should still be intact. We need to leave as soon as I find her." Arya nodded and loped catlike to a stairwell, damaged but usable, that led to Elva's underground chambers. Eragon closed his eyes, drawing additional energy from the quickly fading sun, and thrust his thoughts outward across the sea, in search of anything larger than a fish. He found many, sifting through his findings while he continued to search. He found Elva almost immediately, she in the center of the largest collection of creatures for several thousand leagues.
Arya, grab any weapons you see as well. He heard a crash below, and felt a brush of Arya's mind as she swore. Eragon chuckled. Saphira, a hand if you would?
A paw, for you, tiny human? I could squash you like a bug with this paw. Eragon felt a pull on his robe as Saphira lifted him to her towering back with a claw.
A master of wit, as always. Fírnen laughed, a throbbing basso rumble that made the mess of pebbles on the floor vibrate, creating a sound like a heavy rain.
Do you need help, my love? Eragon asked Arya, cringing internally and hoping that he was on good enough terms with the beautiful elf to say such a thing without being executed.
I'm doing just fine on my...own. Another muffled crash sounded, and a moment later Arya sprinted up the stairway and jumped up Fírnen's extended leg. Her full pack swung from her strong shoulders as she climbed the last few feet to her saddle. Fly! She shouted urgently to Fírnen and Saphira. As one, the dragons took flight at the urgent tone in her voice. Before they had reached a thousand feet in altitude, the floor of the palace collapsed, the rocks swirling like a whirlpool to reveal a void beneath. Eragon's bones shook as the beast roared, pulling itself through the hole, ten thousand feet across and still expanding as rock and earth fell into the emptiness.
Faster! Gánga! Eragon shouted at the dragons, sending an image of the monster that was even now still rising from the pit. Saphira and Fírnen needed no convincing, they redoubled their pace. Eragon felt an enormous drop in strength and looked around for the magician that must be attacking him. After several moments he realized the terrifying truth. It's trying to kill us with magic. Panicked, Eragon cast every protective spell he could think of, using the name of the Ancient Language heedlessly in a desperate attempt to protect himself. One of them evidently worked, and his strength ceased falling. He cast the same series of spells on Arya, who had gone pale and was clinging to her saddle limply, then on the dragons, whose wingbeats had slowed as they labored against the monster's assault. Eragon turned to look at the beast. It was pure white, with massive tusks. Its eyes were feral, glossed over with a silver sheen. Another roar vibrated through Eragon's body as it reared up on its hind legs and loosed a torrent of flame, brighter than the sun. Saphira and Fírnen rolled to avoid the column, tucking their wings as one and dropping beneath it. With the enemy unable to follow, Eragon's curiosity was aroused and, as the inferno passed over their heads he cast a spell. "Brisingr."
His palm burned, the Gëdwey Ingasia shining with the light of a million suns. Saphira roared in protest, and Arya shouted in pain as the brilliance seared their eyes. The white flame of the third beast coalesced and, as Eragon watched through narrowed eyelids, the conflagration stopped and arrowed directly towards him. It seemed to form a lance of fire that gained speed, heading directly at him, a bolt of destruction that would surely kill him. Unable to concoct a spell to stop it, Eragon held out his hand, intending to use his wards to protect Saphira, Arya, and Fírnen.
"Eragon, no!" Screamed Arya as Fírnen, understanding Eragon's intent, veered away to put a safe distance between them. The fire-bolt reached his palm, and the world went black.
Eragon, please. Come back. His eyes fluttered and opened to see Arya straddling him, her face inches from his own. Her eyes widened and she drew closer, her lips meeting his. Eragon returned the kiss, then looked down.
"What-" was all he could manage before dropping his head back to the ground, stunned. He stared up at the twinkling stars above him.
"You absorbed the fire, Eragon." Arya threw a concerned look as he grunted.
"I think I'm still on fire." He said, grimacing. "I've been hit by lightning before, but that was nothing compared to this.
"That creature has some sort of wild magic." Arya rose and began rummaging in her pack. She held out a stoppered vial. "Drink this. One of Angela's potions."
"It won't kill me, will it?" Eragon asked sheepishly.
"You already died once today, one more won't-" her voice broke and she turned away.
Eragon stood, groaning as his desiccated skin cracked. The raised ridges left by the burns popped and his vision went black for a few moments and he swayed, unsteady. The faint outlines of trees nearby told him that they had landed, probably on one of the many tiny islands between Illvindr and Elva.
"Arya." He said. She hesitated, turning her head towards his voice almost imperceptibly. "If you would be my companion, I must give you just one thing." His voice wavered and he steeled himself to give away the secret that had flitted about his mind like a disease.
"This thing-I know not what it is, but I know it is not something you would give lightly."
"The dead are not lost." He said abruptly.
Arya whipped about, her hair fanning about her shoulders. "You've-" she began.
"Yes." Eragon said simply.
"Why do you tell me this, Eragon?" Arya's eyebrows furrowed.
There will come a day, Arya, when all things die. If Eragon does not survive to meet that day, there will be nothing to stop it. The spirits have forseen it, and also that Eragon will die. Saphira's eyes blinked open, and she extricated herself from the ground. She flapped her wings once, then tucked them back against her body and lumbered into the forest.
"Arya, if I die-and I may, many times before our journey is done. You must bring me back." Eragon pressed his lips together grimly.
"How? Why do you give me this secret now? What are your real intentions, Eragon? I hear and see nothing of you for centuries, and you greet me like this? I thought better of you. I loved you once, but you are not the man I loved any longer. You are far away, inside yourself, and that distance has made you cold. I am ashamed of you." Arya spat.
"Arya, please." His voice cracked, and he lowered himself to his knees. "Hear me out, I will tell you the rest of my story and give you my secrets. Then you may judge me."
"Arucane." Arya cast the spell, sighing heavily, and a small fire popped into being between them. She sat down in the dirt. "Tell me then, O Rider, your story. Leave nothing out, and I will judge you as you wish." Her tone was frigid, mocking, like Elva's had been before the fall. Eragon leaned toward the fire, warming his hands.
"On the island in the sea, in the mountains scarred with black, on blazing summer's final day..." began Eragon.
We're finally getting to the bit where you lovely readers get some more bits and pieces of what's happened and why everything in Eragon's world is so F*cked up! Aren't you excited? I'm sorry the story is so cryptic so far...mystery! I suppose it'd be less annoying if it was a novelized publication but my apologies all the same :) Stay tuned for more next week! (Also no promises but there might be like...a little romance...soonish. MAYBE. Also 10k words...wooooo...like a fortieth of the way there!
=^_^=- Wyrda