I'm back in action! I dedicate this chapter to the ones who made me write it, so enjoy it.
BANG! The gritting of steel was not only demoralizing, but also painful to Eragon's ears. Each time the heavy iron door made contact with the tough stone, a mournful, unpleasant bang resonated. During these days spent in captivity, Eragon tried to cope with it, and acceptance finally came to him through Arya's very presence. Everything was ugly about this dark dreary place, yet the outside held an unfamiliar sense of hope, tempting Eragon each time his drowsy yet lucid eyes glanced towards it.
"Hope is always the last flame to extinguish," Arya said. "Your mind can reduce it to a smoldering pile, but the truth and righteous feelings will always restore it."
Eragon's manacles clicked revoltingly as he tried to stretch his sore limbs. The metal scrapped his wrists and the pain was an omnipresent nuisance, but his mirth acted as a tide of light against darkness. "That maid will thank me when this war is over." He smiled wholeheartedly.
Arya glanced at him with sardonic eyes. "She probably lived here all her life. You can't expect her to support our cause."
"She will," Eragon said with conviction. "Once the King is dead, the soldiers will taste freedom and will no longer oppose us."
"Eragon, I trust your feelings, they are pure and—"she suddenly stopped. The shuffle of feet clad in metal boots rang faintly in the corridor that passed by each chamber. Then it increased in intensity as two soldiers approached, and stopped.
I think they are shifting, Eragon whispered in Arya's mind when a murmur followed, then a distinct sound of footsteps.
Very perceptive Eragon, Arya said. Now you only need to know the time of day and the purpose for your discovery.
Eragon smiled wryly when her words backed him into a corner tighter than the manacles around his wrists and ankles. You can't possibly expect us to flee when new guards arrive, unless you are confident that you can fight Galbatorix with your bare hands.
"You doubt my chances?" Arya said.
"Very much."
"Well then," she smiled and whispered something faintly. Eragon did not hear her words, but just when she finished, a muffled crack snapped him out of his self induced lethargic trance. "Lets see who escapes from these vile manacles first."
Eragon's eyes widened with wonder. It was working. The plan was working.
"Re-release me too," he stuttered, barely containing his mirth. Hope surged through his brown eyes while he stared at Arya expectantly, but her solemn and expressionless figure instilled a much too tainting feeling of dread.
"It takes time Eragon," she said, lowering her head in defeat. "The despicable poison is still lingering inside me."
Eragon curled the bottom of his lip thoughtfully. Patience was never one of his strong virtues, not when the lives of many were at stake, and Saphira… he just began realizing how much he missed her. Although Arya's presence has masked the ever present void that expanded inside him, Saphira was still the only being who could really soothe him; Saphira understood him unlike any other. Eragon could only imagine how his disappearance affected her, but refrained from picturing her too much. It was a bittersweet image, yet he could not bare to see the desperate blue dragon circling the whole Alagaesia until she found him.
And then, amidst the desperation and emptiness of his soul, he felt it.
Saphira…
The next update may come tomorrow and will be probably a Saphira chapter. I need to sort things out a little with her. And her visitor.
