Thank you for all your reviews and support and your fanfiction recommendations! I am currently reading Eldunari by wildskysong and it's fantastic! And much better than mine, I suggest you go and read it, really. And I am also reading Antiphony by Cantare (a Jasmine/Mozenrath fic from the Disney Aladdin tv series). Also very good and I recommend it even if you aren't a fan of that pair.
I've gotten so so so many reviews asking; "where is Murtagh?". Well, do not fear! …he's coming. He WILL be in the 11th Chapter, a bit in the 10th .
Also super thanks to/ for Inheriwiki. That site has really made this whole story possible. Go check it out.
Again thank you for your time and reviews and I hope you enjoy it.
Chapter 9 : To Narda
(For Narnia!)
Her training was as good as it was going to get though her fighting skills were barely passable. She didn't feel worried or nervous because the idea or the weight of what she had to do, will do hadn't hit her yet. Deep down she knew she wasn't ready.
Idea of battle did not frighten her. Battles, in her mind, have always been romanticized for her, the effect of television and old fairy tales. The idea of death in a battle did not enter her mind, the idea of pain did not cross her mind and the idea of fear in a battle defiantly did not.
She would be brave, like Lionheart or William Wallace. Her blade would cut, her armor strong, her dragon fierce. She would be victorious and her name would be feared on the battlegrounds. She would become a legend.
She would be malicious, like the state of Qin to the state of Zhao or Prussians to the French. Her blade would cut flesh and take lives, her armor would shake and she would bleed, her dragon would flee from fire lit arrows. She would be in pain and her sword broken. She would be a no face solider. She would not become a legend.
A battlefield was a house of death and she has never killed.
None of this occurred to her. Why should it? She never grew in a world where brave knights and steel swords were commonplace.
This time Evelyn rode her own horse, a grey stallion by the name of Felinor, instead of having to sit in the wagon. Though she was wishing she was sitting on the wagon instead. Her muscles were sore form the constant sword and flight work she had done. One would think that the pain would subside, but it didn't.
Night had fallen when they began to leave. The trees and grass sparkled silver from the moons spotlight. The elves all wore deep velvet robes that grazed the ground beneath them and carried with them long spears with gold daggers on the end.
As they walked soundlessly out of the city the few Elves who remained behind did not wave or cry at the departing people but titled their heads gently as they passed by. This was enough for them.
The air was filled with a beautiful song of lamentation in their language. It panged in her heart to see strong and wise deal with the pain so solely, but this was their way.
Evelyn saw Queen Islanzadí amongst the sliver foliage. Evelyn thought she saw the Queen smile sadly but she bowed her head to quickly to know for sure.
They rode for two days to the city of Osilon and a day more to the edge of Du Weldenvarden. Each day many more Elves joined the quiet march. None smiled or cried, but carried themselves with a cold, stiff dignity and it made Evelyn uncomfortable.
When they reached the edge of the forest the snow began to pile up and when asked Eragon explained that it was because the elves sang the air warm and so the snow never touched the forest, keeping it warm and beautifully green all year around.
Palancar Valley stretched between the forest edge and the mountains of the Spine. It was the birthplace of Eragon and where his Dragon Saphira hatched.
The Elves had taken the human city Ceunon with such ease it should hardly be called a victory. As was as if the Elves walked into the city and by the mere sight of them it was surrendered.
Despite being taken by the Elves and their assumed dislike for the residents of Ceunon, the humans were free to walk and continue on with their daily lives, though having the Elves there was far from normal. Those who resisted the Elves new order of law and the Elves themselves were quickly dealt with.
All throughout the valley, the Elves set up camps and battle quarters and assumedly claimed and took hold the land, becoming a strong threat to the Empire, despite their loss at Gil'ead.
Their plan was to take hold of northern Alagaësia as Surda and the Varden would subdue the south and by doing so, they would surround Galbatorix's shrinking Empire.
The Elves' next attack was set on the port city of Narda, still a strong Empire allied city. Their plan of action was to cross the mountains of the Spine and attack the city. Though the attack was eminent and Narda would have plenty of time to per, they would still have the upper hand; the resistance had not one, but two dragons fighting and any such used full help would be to far away to aid in time.
The route took them along the North Sea, and later crossing it at the mountains that surround Carvahall and pass Therinsford and resting at the mountain base of Mount Utgard.
There were no towns on that route and they were safe from any eyes. The last town they passed was Ceunon and that was earlier that morning and Evelyn still did not know how much longer it would be until they reached the mountain base.
By midday she could see a small bump on the horizon. Telling by the charred lumps, it was once a town. Looking at it from a distance it looked like a black smudge floating on a snow-white canvas. It place is—was Carvahall, Eragon's home.
They did not pass through it because their route did not take them through it but they did pass by close enough. Evelyn watched Eragon carefully; his eyes lingered at the village, remembering most likely.
She watched him, careful not to be caught staring. She acknowledged that she didn't know what he was feeling and was thankful for it.
As they distanced themselves from the village they passed other outside farms and huts. One particular called to Eragon and he steered his horse to it and Evelyn followed. He dismounted his horse and knelt in the cold snow and as he did this he unsheathed his sword, stabbed it in the ground and rested he head on the hilt.
Evelyn did not move despite her curiosity and respected his space. As he remained there for a short moment the air whipped his frozen brown locks at his face and neck and the wind created small snowdrifts around his knees and feet.
Finally he stood up and walked over to the once-was-barn-house and with magic carved something into the wood. She squinted her eyes and read; 'Here lies Garrow. Loving father of Roran Stronghammer and uncle of Eragon Shadeslayer. May you rest in peace and never be forgotten.'
"He's in a better place, now." He did not make any gesture as to hearing her.
They advanced southwest along the mountain foothills of the Spine, a mountain rage as had quickly become familiar with. To her right she could see the mountain Utgard. She remarked at how steep it was and if it where in her world, it would probably be a famous favorite among mountain climbers.
They entered the steep thick forest on the foothills for cover and began their ascent.
Evelyn jumped up when she heard the alarm. Velox flipped his scaly ears to the noise. What's going on?
Arya came into her tent and ordered, "Get dressed."
Evelyn slipped on a pair of thick wool pants and a long-sleeved under shirt with leather braces on her forearms and a tunic over them. Arya handed Evelyn her chain mail.
"What's this?" she said anxiously.
"You must put this on."
"What. Wait, why?"
"Galbatorix's army is here."
"What? How did they find us?"
"I do not know. But we have no time to flee."
"How many are there?"
"An infantry battalion."
"So that's—that's what a," she shook her head trying to remember what a battalion was. "Around 1000 men, right? How many do we have?"
"1500."
"Fifteen—what?" She slapped her forehead. "Only 500 more? This is hopeless."
"Murtagh is with them."
Evelyn groaned loudly and slumped down onto her bed. "I cannot fight him." She said plainly.
"Put this on," Arya help up her chain mail.
Evelyn sat on top of Velox back, latched into the saddle with her own fear. Saphira stood beside them and stretched her wings confidently. She shook and thanked that her helmet was down over her face. She played with the hilt of her sword to get it to sit comfortable in her hand but shook too much. The young girl closed her eyes and counted backwards, trying to calm her breathing to be even and slow. Velox moved underneath and she moved with him, she could feel his muscles twitch when he moved them.
The elf army was lined up in sections according to regiments and weapons. Large swordsmen and heavy weapons in front, swordsmen and archers in second, the horsemen. Eragon was off to the far left; leading his own section, among them was Arya and his twelve elven spellweavers.
Far out to the southeast, on the horizon, a dark mod moved, getting bigger and bigger like swarm of ants coming out of the ant hole.
Evelyn swallowed her dry throat away.
The ant like men swarmed over the hillside, getting closer. The elves tensed; ready to fight.
Saphira jumped into the air and Velox, unasked, followed. Evelyn lurched forward when her weight shifted suddenly. Evelyn muscle in her body was tense when they rose into the air and she held onto the saddle for dear life. She cursed repeatedly in her mind.
Below the people were as small as little black bugs but Evelyn refused to look down at the ground.
Skölir nosu
The men met violently; most of the men died instantly form the elves fatal slashes. Blood already stained the white snow.
Velox followed Saphira and swooped down at the Empire's men and held his talons out to stab and grab. Evelyn slammed her eyes shut at the sickly feeling of free falling. He repeated this, and more so when avoiding arrows, Evelyn grunted uncomfortably, trying to hold it all in.
Archers took aim and fired when the dragons dove down. Evelyn! Yelled to get her attention.
Skölir nosu, she held out her hand to shield them from the arrows, nearly coming too late.
Use your magic! Velox ordered and roared angrily at the same time.
"Jierda thierra kalfis!" Evelyn shivered as the men's legs broke underneath them. Velox. Velox I can't do this.
'GRAHHAR!' A low roar sounded from the south; a dragon, a red dragon. Velox, it's Thorn…
Velox flapped himself away but Thorn already saw them. Thorn twisted himself around so he could fly parallel with Velox. Evelyn lifted her head at Murtagh but could see his face because his helm covered it. Thorn suddenly bit at Velox's neck causing him to jerk away and Evelyn almost falling off.
The stronger two crashed the smaller ones onto the ground. Velox! My leg! She cried when her leg was caught between the ground and the saddle. With a few rocky movements he rolled off her and she padded her leg down for injuries.
She lifted herself up with uneasy strain and unsheathed her green sword. Now Murtagh had them on the ground he would use this to his advantage. He would easily take care of the Rider as Thorn did the same for the adolescent dragon. The elf rider was weak from the crash, he could tell as she gripped hard on to her leg.
Velox I need a distraction. Anything!
Velox, who was in the sky being pursued by Thorn, incorporated a low sweeping motion close to Murtagh's head. The red rider ducked and avoided Velox's attack in time.
Evelyn ran in the opposite direction as Velox momentarily confused Murtagh. Her sword and armor were heavy and she hated how they clanged and clunked when she ran.
"Thrysta Vendrin!" Murtagh reached his gedwëy ignasia at her and with the force of magically compressed air she was pulled off her feet and onto the ground on her back.
She jumped onto her feet and with him so close now she had no other action left other than to fight him. With two hands on the hilt she swung side to side, aiming for his torso. In one of her swings he moved completely to the side and hit her back with the board side of his blade and she tumbled forward from the blow, barely able to catch herself.
"CLANG," her armor sounded and rattled on her back.
She spun around before falling thinking of lunging at him. The snow clumped underfoot making it all the more difficult. Murtagh took advantage of this slip up.
It was a sickening feeling. With one single hand he stabbed his sword at her. It so easily found it's way between her armor plates and so easily broke through her chain mail and like a hot knife through butter, the sword slipped into her skin. Slicing veins, ripping tendons apart and cutting through muscles, even feel the cold metal scrap roughly against the bone.
She gasped soundlessly at the pain, dropped her sword and clutched at the wound. It was under her armor and all she felt when raised her hand was torn metal and his sword. Her legs gave way and she fell onto her knees onto the ground.
Less smoothly than his entry the red rider pulled out his sword from her shoulder and she jerked at the painful movement. All muscles twitched and convulsed at this new and unpleasant feeling. She felt the warm blood trickle down her front and down her arm.
She held out her hands to break her fall when she leant too far forward. The normally soft force vibrated though her magnified by her current position. She held in her breath—the first wave of throbbing pain. Over and over like a hot liquid poured onto of her.
She gasped, sucked in sharp breath and rolled over onto her back, sobbing loudly and chocking on her own saliva. Above her Murtagh stood with his sword held to her neck, knowing she could move anyway.
'Shwoooish.'
Murtagh stumbled back. Something hit him—an arrow. An arrow hit him in the arm. Evelyn strained her head up to see this but her punctured muscles screamed at her not to. Any use of her upper torso was gone and began to cry out in pain on the snowy ground.
"Oh god, help me. Help me. Help me. Velox." She moaned coarsely.
Eragon lowered his bow and prepared his sword. Murtagh pulled out the arrow from his armor without a second glace and lazily twirled his sword in his one hand. Eragon yelled at his brother as he ran at him with his sword ready to strike.
They met with their swords above their heads, both struggling to gain dominance and the upper hand.
"Thrysta snjár!" Murtagh launched snow at his brother but Eragon quickly blocked it.
"Skölir eka!" Eragon said but still bounced off Murtagh lightly. Murtagh swung Zar'roc and Eragon barely ducked away from it.
"Frjósa du snjár unin íss!" Eragon intuitively turned the snow into ice under Murtagh's feet.
Evelyn had come to the point were she was entering and leaving her own strange unconsciousness from the shock. Her body no longer convulsed or shook, but lay there. Her breath was harsh and heavy in comparison. Her lids were heavy and eyes started to roll back into her head.
'Arrgghhh!'
Eragon was hunched over, clutching his hand and Murtagh stood triumphant over him with both Zar'roc and Brisingr. "A finger for a finger, Brother!"
Murtagh jabbed Eragon with magic knocking him over and holding him at sword point for a few moments before saying, "I won't kill you," and he tossed the blue sword down beside his brother in the snow.
He walked away from his brother, not afraid of any attack to his back. He picked up Evelyn harshly and she grunted half-alive.
"Murtagh!" Eragon cried at him. Murtagh turned around to the call but held Evelyn close to him for chance.
Eragon got up and took a step closer but stopped when Murtagh pressed the sword harder against her neck.
"Don't make me." He said tested.
"You wouldn't."
"Are you so certain?" he cocked his head to the side, referring of Oromis and Glaedr.
Murtagh was much taller than Evelyn and for him to stand comfortable while he confronted Eragon Evelyn had to stand on her toes to avoid leaning into the blade. Her head was light and cold and it took her best efforts to remain conscious but her head lolled to the side weakly.
"Murtagh, please, there is still time, still a chance." Eragon pleaded, trying a different approached, "I understand what a true name is, I can help, you can stop all this."
"Don't mock me! You have already played that tune with me…" he was silent and for a moment, accidently his emotion slipped into his voice; he sounded hurt and stressed, but was soon gone and was back to his original state. "Galbatorix will be disappointed you have eluded my grasp once more. However his disappointment will not be long lived!"
"Come after us Eragon and I will kill you. Brother or no brother," he yelled over her head.
Her sight started to flash black and white from her light-headedness and began to become overwhelmingly nauseous.
Thorn gracefully flew behind his master; Evelyn was mounted on top and Murtagh behind her.
"Tell your Dragon to follow us." He leaned into her ear to speak as Thorn took off.
"No," she moaned weakly. Her stomach jumped at the feeling of flying.
Grabbing hold of the neck of her chain mail, he leaned her dangerously over the edge of Thorn's saddle. Down below the fight had become a smudge of black in her blurred eyes.
"Tell your dragon to follow or I will let go and before dragon can catch you I will break his wings. Do you understand?"
"Yes." she gasped loudly with fear of the thought.
"Then tell him."
Velox please follow us…
If he drops you I will catch you
We cannot take the risk!
I will not go. He said diffidently.
You have to, please. For me, I can't bear it if you die.
He showed his agreement with lowered head and defeated followed Thorn. Evelyn welcomed such a soothing unconsciousness.
Evelyn is clearly not a very good Dragon Rider…
I think it would be a very logical thing that Murtagh would go for Evelyn/Velox instead of Eragon/Saphira because that way he would still be in the good graces of Galbatorix and wouldn't have to capture his own brother and he doesn't know Evelyn so she doesn't really mean anything to him. Right?
Did anyone notice something strange with the magic? Hint; it's not a grammar mistake.
the To Narda thing reminded me of 'For Narnia!'
