AN: I HATE DOGS! No, that isn't correct. Correction, I HATE STREET DOGS! For the last two weeks, I have been bed-ridden; courtesy: a Goddamn street dog which caused me to have an accident at 80 kmph and wreck my beautiful Honda CBR bike! AND BREAK my left Forearm and twist my left ankle!
Yeah, so sorry for not being able to update quickly or reply to the several nice PMs that I have received. Even now, I am in bed, in fact, this whole chapter has been written by a dear friend who had the patience to listen to the story word-for-word and then write it down before creating a word file. Everybody thank her! I am not going to take names, on her request.
Anyways, onto the next chapter.
Chapter 7
Waking up at the crack of dawn, a habit that had been hammered into him and his brother from their childhood, Eragon jumped out of bed and walked to the balcony of his tree-house, taking in deep breaths of the cool morning air and the breathtaking vistas of the reddish rays of the sun creating small rainbows within each and every dew-drop that hung on the ends of grass stalks. Feeling justifiably happy, Eragon turned inside to change out of his night clothes and put on his shoes before returning to the balcony and jumping off towards the nearest branch below him, grabbing it by one hand before letting go and grabbing the next one and in that manner came down to terra firma. Then, he proceeded to run flat out, his long strides and inhuman speed allowing him to cover the more than five kilometers distance from the residential areas of the city to the Training grounds where Saphira awaited him. And along with her, were Thorn and Murtagh, his brother with his twin swords in hand and he noticed his own sword and shield on Saphira's saddle… he smiled, Murtagh did this in every new place that the brothers had ever been to…they would spar in front of everybody else and Murtagh would show off his dual wielding skills…well not this time, dear brother, Eragon thought.
Walking nonchalantly upto Saphira, Eragon wished her and Thorn a pleasant morning before drawing his sword from its scabbard and retrieving his shield…that done, he stalked off to a few paces behind Murtagh, right in the center of the field before leaning against his sword…his body language speaking volumes of just how bored he was. Murtagh smiled, as if he knew what Eragon was doing, which he probably did… and came forward with his own twin blades and stood right in front of Eragon, swords held at the ready. Eragon also took up an en guard stance with the shield at the front and his sword to the side. The brothers stared into each other's eyes for a full minute before charging at the same time… Murtagh raised his front sword to strike a Eragon's head as the rear one came up to hit him in the chest, Eragon immediately jumped into a shallow dive, aiming to tackle his brother to the ground before finishing him only to see Murtagh jump in a loop over his sliding form. Eragon rolled as he fell and was on his feet in no time and turned, raising his shield to deflect an attack that he knew was coming, and just as he had thought no sooner had he turned than a daedric sword hit his shield, hard. Eragon noticed immediately that Murtagh was leaning into the strike, a fatal flaw… he shoved Murtagh off with his shield, the force was so strong that Murtagh was flung back a few feet and landed rather hard on his rump. Now had this been a real fight, it would've been over right then and there, as Eragon would have brought his sword in an overhead chop aimed to slice his brother's head in half; but it wasn't a real fight, so Eragon allowed his brother to have some breathing space. Murtagh got up, swearing impressively before staring into Eragon's eyes and grinning. Eragon knew that grin and that gleam in his brother's eyes, it meant serious trouble…. Careful now, Little One, last time he tried that trick, you got beaten up pretty bad.. he heard Saphira warn him. Last time, he took me completely by surprise…this time, I have plans.
They clashed for a few more minutes, slashing and parring at speeds that were too great for even elven eyes to follow, both of them waiting. Murtagh, for the opportune moment and Eragon, for Murtagh to launch his 'finishing move' as he had described it so flippantly. And then, he paused.
"Lets see what you've got brother!" Murtagh taunted out loud.
That surprised Eragon, for Murtagh never spoke during their spars, unless… Eragon took a look around the training field and sure enough, there was a vast crowd surrounding them….including the Royal Family.
Eragon would have let the taunt go unanswered, but Saphira wouldn't stand for it, so she suggested a reply which Eragon agreed to immediately.
"The LOUSIEST brother on the Gods' green earth! That's what I've got!" Eragon replied.
Murtagh didn't reply but sprinted towards Eragon, at a distance of ten feet or so, he jumped, straight and high, spinning rapidly, holding his two swords end-to-end, their hilts touching and as he fell, he continued spinning rapidly and was going to cut Eragon into ribbons had the swords' edges not been blunted. But Eragon was ready. He waited till when Murtagh was just about three feet short of the ground before rolling forward, timing was important for if he rolled too soon, he would receive a sword slash at his back, if he rolled too late, Murtagh would land right on top of him. Fortunately, the timing was spot on and Eragon righted himself just as his brother landed behind. As both the brothers turned, Eragon with the delight of victory on his face and Murtagh with an expression of complete surprise, Eragon went for the jugular.
As soon as he was facing his brother, Eragon spoke three words: Fus Ro Dah! (Force Balance Push). The resulting shout sent his brother flying backwards by atleast twenty feet or more. And by the teeeime Murtagh understood what had happened, he felt Eragon's sword at his throat.
What was that shout for? You cheated! his brother alleged.
Maybe. But if you can showoff that stupid move, than I suppose it is only fair that I showoff what I can do with my Tongue. Eragon replied, smiling. He removed his sword from his brother's throat and offered his arm which Murtagh took willingly, all the time aware of the pin-drop silence around the field. As he and Murtagh began walking to their dragons, loud applause and cheering broke out among the gathered crowd. Most elves had eyes as wide as large almonds while the King and the Queen seemed oddly pleased, but Eragon had eyes on Arya, whose face registered absolute shock and amazement.
Eragon was pleased so far with Ellesmera and all he could do was wish Lady Luck to continue to be benevolent for him…
To say Arya was stupefied would be an understatement; she was absolutely tongue-tied by the prowess the brothers had displayed with the sword. She considered herself a very capable swords-woman but the brothers were leagues above her in their skill and ability to read the opponent. The way Eragon held his ground, his speed and grace and at the same time the strength of his defence, that Shout! Her only regret was that she was on the far-side of the training ground and was therefore unable to see that clearly and had therefore missed the last minute change of position that Eragon had done…she was focused on Murtagh's attack that she had missed the manner of his evasion. This frustrated her as she wanted to learn as much as she could from them but was hesitant to ask Eragon himself. Then she remembered spotting Blodhgarm, her tutor on the other side of the field, observing the brothers fight.
Surely he must have noticed what he had done! I must ask him! And without another thought, Arya dashed from her room in Tialdari Hall towards the swordmaster's home.
Eragon and Murtagh, along with their dragons were waiting with Arya at a the top of cliff that stretched for several miles along either direction and was about a thousand feet above the floor of the forest that stretched beyond until it disappeared over the horizon. They had come to meet their of the blue Eragon heard that all too familiar thuds that mark the wingbeats of a dragon. From below the edge of the cliff rose a huge gold dragon with a Rider on its back.
Several days later….
Eragon sat on a small bluff, watching the sun set over Du Weldervarden… He had been unable to take rest during the afternoon, as was his habit and therefore had gone for a run, covering more than five miles in less than half-an-hour in a wide circle around the borders of the city before he discovered the small bluff overlooking the forests…delighted by what he had found, Eragon crossed his legs and sat down enjoying the early morning calm and tranquility…and trying to calm his mind. He had left Thorn and Saphira with Glaedr-elda earlier that day, the younger dragons eager to learn much more of the elder's flying techniques.
He received a joyous greeting from his beloved Sapphire and he showed her where he was, as she was preparing to take off, he requested her to bring along something. She agreed.
A few moments later and she joined him, landing softly behind him and dropping his flute into his lap from her paws.
Eragon took a deep breath to calm himself before closing his eyes and raising the flute to his mouth…he breathed slowly through the instrument, his fingers playing lightly on the holes, creating a music that was both soft and mournful….it was the product of the sadness that resided in his heart, in his mind, but not in his soul…his repentance….his salvation…
The song lasted for a few minutes, Saphira humming along….her own soft tune amplifying the music… amplifying the atmosphere of sadness and then with a final low note that Eragon stretched for as long as he could, the song ended. Opening his eyes, he blinked away the few tears that threatened to fall before taking a deep breath to steady himself and detected the smell of crushed pinecones…What? His eyes flew wide open and he turned around to look into the eyes of the last person he expected to see, Arya.
What shocked him even more was the fact that she was crying, streams of tears running down either cheek, but she had a soft smile on her face. He was angry that she had intruded on a moment as private as that and he wanted to ask her what in the names of the Nine she was doing but refrained…Eragon was aware in the back of his mind that Saphira was watching the scene with amusement.
"That was the most beautiful music that I have ever heard, Eragon and perhaps, the saddest one as well. Why don't you play more often?" she asked as she sat down beside him, wiping her eyes clean on her sleeves.
Eragon didn't reply but turned to watch the sun sink below the horizon, coloring the sky red with its last rays. Something passed between the two ladies who where there, which was concealed from him. Puzzled he was about to ask Saphira about it, when he felt Arya's soft warm hands overlap his own. Startled, Eragon looked at her curiously, only to have her lean closer and whisper, "I now understand that this was something that was very dear to you and that it was wrong of me to eavesdrop. But, I was worried for you, you disappeared immediately after Oromis-ebithril dismissed us! I wanted to talk to you, but you were not there and so I followed."
Eragon nodded, accepting her reasons, but a warmth bubbled inside his chest as he realized that she wanted to talk with him! Moreover, she was even worried for him!
Once again, Arya spoke first, "now will you tell me why you play alone, when the music that you produce is of such excellent quality?"
Eragon thought for a long time, but couldn't come to a decision, his mind and heart were telling him opposite things! So he asked Saphira and she replied that he should tell her, but provided that she wouldn't reveal it to others.
Eragon agreed to her suggestion and turned to Arya, to find her looking expectantly at him. "I will tell you, but you must promise to me that you won't tell of this to anyone else, not without my permission."
"I swear." And the ancient language bound her to her words.
"Have you ever killed another person, Arya?" he turned to look into her widening eyes and answered the question, "no, of course not. Take it from me Arya, it is not a pleasing experience, to have to snatch away the life of another, to cause great pain to that person's friends and relatives and I have done this hundreds of times." He took a deep breath and sighed.
"Do you know what the worst part is? It's the fact that I AM A DRAGON! The dragon within me enjoys killing someone as just retribution for their sins, and I enjoy the thrill of the combat, of the hunt!"
Eragon was shaking by this time, not used to unburdening himself on anybody other than Saphira, he felt awkward.
"Therefore, I play this flute as repentance for my actions, in remembrance of all those whose lives I have cut short and those who will lose theirs at my hands in the future."
He took deep breaths and calmed himself down by thinking of his first sight of High Hrothgar. The sheer magnificence and awe that the memory brought always made him smile and this time was no different. But then, he felt Arya squeeze his hand and whisper, "you are a very good man, my friend. That you feel remorse for taking lives of others proves so, no matter what the dragon in you feels, your heart is true." She paused for a moment before asking, "I have a favor to ask of you."
Eragon cleared his throat before saying, "and I will grant it if it is in my power to do so."
"Whenever you play again, I would like to be there." She whispered, her eyes suspiciously wet.
Eragon was deeply moved by that, for some reason and he felt drawn to her, "Alright, I will inform you beforehand."
She nodded before turning to see the sun set over Du Weldervarden, their shoulders touching and their hearts in peace.
A couple of things: firstly, this chapter is short, I know, but cut me some slack guys!
I deliberately left out the part where the brothers meet Oromis and Glaedr because its repetitive and didn't want my friend to have to type even more than she did. And the next chapter will take some time as I plan to type it myself and that will only happen once the cast is removed from my hand.
Review!
