Saphira, what are you doing?! They will kill Garrow! They know I had your egg, it was the kings men!
And they will enslave us! Those murderers will take you and make us do things we condemn to madmen. We must escape! She continues flying over the mountains when another thought enters my head.
Elaina! I shout to her across the distance, causing Saphira to stop and hover over the mountain. I hear her voice, soft and full of fear and worry.
Stay with Saphira, I will stay with Brom tonight. He was on the road and saw me alone with our horses. I will be OK. Just stay safe. She cut off our connection. Saphira saw fit to land, deciding we were far enough from the village.
As she descended I shifted a little, but yelped in pain. Glancing down to the source of the pain, I was suddenly aware of the wet sensation. The inside of my thighs were bloodied and torn apart, chafed at by the rough scales on Saphira's shoulders. I hiss in pain even though she lands softly. Sensing my pain, she helps me off of her back.
I stumble, attempting to set up camp before deciding against it. After leading me close to her side, Saphira, still huffing from the extended and over exerting flight, covers me with a wing.
I don't feel the hunger in my stomach as she whispers to my mind,
Goodnight little one.
There is no reply, for I have already slipped into a fitful slumber.
"Are you sure you're alright girl?" He asks kindly, sitting in the chair across from me. I nod, allowing a peaceful silence to lull between us, aside from the crackling other fire. We both hold a steaming cup of tea. I take another sip as he speaks again.
"I noticed your horses are packed with supplies for a long journey. If you don't mind me asking, where are you headed?"
His question throws me for a loop, and I pause, wondering how to answer it.
"Eragon and I are headed south. I can't bear being away from my sister, and I wasn't comfortable traveling alone. He offered to go with me." I smile, almost believing the story myself.
"Where did your sister leave to?"
"Feinster."
"Why?"
"She is expecting a little one," I say, using one of Saphira's favorite phrases.
"Who did she take with her?"
"Terry, the son of couple who owns the inn down the street."
"How old is Eragon's dragon?"
"Five and a half mo-" Shit.
"Wow. I am surprised I didn't notice the signs sooner, you did a fine job of hiding it." I am taken aback by how calmly he is reacting to this. "Say, what color is his dragon?"
My eyes widen in shock and I look down at my knees, which are covered in a pair of trousers which are too small for him now. I twist the thread where he had sewn the knee back together with shoddy workmanship.
I sigh, knowing we had been caught, and look into his eyes, making my decision.
I could trust Brom.
If I couldn't, well then trust was a word of fairy tales that could never be proven as a truth.
"She is a beautiful azure blue," I say, smiling when his eyes lit up at the information.
"What's her name?"
"Saphira."
His eyes are covered in the shadow of his brows suddenly as they furrow, and he seems to be remembering a painful memory. The firelight flickering over his sharp face gave him a sinister look, one that fits the tone of his next words well.
"How ironic that he should choose that name, when his father's dragon was the same." I look at him sharply upon hearing this.
"Who was his father?"
"You will both learn in time. For now, get some rest, you must leave tomorrow, no matter what. They know who you are now, and will stop at nothing to find you." I nod, and he leads me to my room for the evening. Allowing me a few moments to settle in, he offers to grab extra blankets. I nod gratefully. After I curl up in bed, he returns, but because I am breathing evenly with my as closed, he must think I am asleep.
"You will both know the truth about your parents soon enough." With that, he kissed my forehead, like a father would his daughter, set the extra blanket over me, and left the room.
I stayed up, pondering his words, which sounded so much like my sister's from a few weeks ago. Little did I know those words would haunt me until I finally understood what they meant.
Eragon spoke to me in the morning, telling me to meet him at the farm. I told him Brom insisted upon coming with us, on the journey,and that he had figures out about Saphira. I left out the bit about his father, knowing it would only worry him.
Now as I rode down the street, I worried, knowing something bad had happened. As we get closer, the smell of smoke permeates the air. The sound of wings beating above make us stop and turn our heads. Saphira swoops down and lands between me and Brom, growling menacingly, her voice even more fearsome.
How did you know of me? Tread carefully old man, or you shall find my bite is far worse than my bark. He smiles, unafraid of her, but rather joyful, causing her to be more angry.
"It is wonderful to meet you Saphira brightscales, and as to your question: your foolish rider dropped his glove, revealing his gedwëy insignia to me. You should be more cautious, next time it might not be an ally who glimpses it." Saphira continues to stare at him fangs bared, as Eragon climbs down and stumbles to me. I glance over him and take note other gashes on his thigh, so deep I can't restrain a gasp at the sight of them.
"What happened to you?" He gives me look, as if to say are you serious? It only took me a moment to figure it out.
"I could heal them if you'd like, just like I did for your back," Brom pipes in, reminding me of the strange skill he possessed that saved my life. Ery nods, grateful, and Saphira allows him to come towards us, tensed to save us should he turn on us.
He mutters something under his breath and his hands glow a shimmering silvery-blue. The wounds on Ery's leg knit back together as his hands hover over them. Only the sound of a distant fire and the light wind occupies the area now. The rider's face is emotionless as he is being mended, until suddenly his eyes goes wide.
"We have to get to the farm, we have to save Garrow!"
Before Brom has even completely healed the wounds, he is back on Saphira's shoulders in seconds, and they are flying towards the smoke drifting lazily over the treetops. The wind from under Saphira's wings is hitting me, pushing back as I spur Tarpin forward. Brom leaps onto his horse and follows as swiftly as his horse can ride, quickly passing mine.
When we arrive to the disheartening scene, we dismount, and rush to help the boy, who is screaming crying for help to any who might hear. Tears are streaming down his face as he tries to shift a massive beam from something.
The limp form of his uncle, Garrow.
Tears sting my eyes as I join his effort to push the beam away, but as it holds firm I feel my hope crumble away, much like the walls of my temporary home had around me. Saphira's regal head appears in my head, and she opens her strong jaw, clamping it around the wood. With one large tug, muscles of her neck rippling mightily, she tosses the debris away.
We race forward, ignoring the astounded look Brom is giving the dragon, who is leaning over us. After listening to his vitals, Eragon leaps up and finds an old blanket and to pieces of wood. He ties them into the corners of the blanket and looks to me.
"Help me lift him up."
I do as he says without arguing, then as he is adjusting him, I grab some rope and tie it to the ends of the sticks and the horses gear. Together, with us three running besides them, Saphira and the horses dragged them along down the road.
It takes a while to get close enough, Saphira leaves, knowing it is too risky to stay. We continue into town without her and finally arrive at Gertrude's home.
"Help him, please!" Eragon shouts. He brushes the old woman off when she tries to examine his own wounds. "He is dying, I am fine! Please save him!"
Gertrude takes Garrow into a back room, while we stay in the living room, Eragon falls into a heavy sleep, obviously exhausted from the mornings events and blood loss. His head is resting in my lap, where we sit on an old couch. Brom is in the rocking chair across from us, smoking his pipe, which I hadn't even seen him light. I sigh and mess with the blonde- brown locks of hair on the boys' head.
"We need to leave. Staying here just puts us at risk for being found out. There is nothing we can do for his uncle now."
"We can't just leave him! He will be alright, and will need answers when he awakens."
"He won't awaken."
I stare at him sharply, angry he would voice such mutinous thoughts. As I open my mouth to speak, he cuts me off.
"Don't argue with me girl. You are blinded by your hope and lack of experience. Those weren't normal burn wounds. They tortured him, using some kind of poison, and will do the same to us if we stay. They are probably on their way here right now."
His tone is angry, laden with years of pain from loss, and knowing he was right, I silenced myself. Instead, I study his shadowed face, wondering just what he had seen in his years. Wondering if he was reliving some terrible memory. I shift Eragon's head from my lap, and walk over to the old man. He looks up at me when I place a hand on his shoulder, and we share a look.
A look of two people who, despite the difference in age and life experience, are kindred souls of sorrow and pain, who understand in that moment, what the other is feeling. I am sad to say it comforts me, that at least one person knows what I do, and that they are here for me, and for once, not against me.
I am not alone anymore.
Despite having Eragon here for me these last few months, he can't possibly understand the pain I have been in. He started with no family. Sure he had his uncle, his cousin and his aunt, but it is different.
I lost my mother, murdered coldly. My father hates me, and is probably plotting revenge on me now. My sister is gods knows where with my niece/nephew/half brother/sister on the way, and I don't even know if they are dead or alive.
But he knows.
The old man before me knows. He understands. I don't know who he lost, or what he has seen, but I vow to myself, that no matter what, I will be there for him. I will fight to protect him from further harm, as he has for me recently. I will learn from and about this man who seems to know more about my past than I do.
"You will both know the truth about your parents soon enough."
His lips draw up into a knowing smile, and we nod to each other.
I sit back down next to Ery, and lean back, relaxing, and mentally preparing for the journey ahead.
Sorry it took so long, I had to seriously revise the plot because I left something huge out in the coming chapters and thought I should start leading into it with this one.
Did anyone catch it? I bet you did.
Any guesses on who her parents could be? (They're not mentioned by name in the series, and ne is completely OC so...)
Well, its spring break here, so expect some more updates this week. See ya soon!