A/N: Over a year since the last chapter... Sorry... I am not abandoning the story, but life seems determined to slow my writing projects, so... Bear with me please?
As always, constructive criticism is appreciated ! Enjoy this new chapter (I hope you still remember the story...).
Disclaimer: The universe belongs to Paolini.
Chapter 10: Eragon's story – The Second Rider
''An elf accepted by Dragons is bound to be talked about, Eragon. Stay hidden until you can appear on your own terms, and stage your reappearance carefully. People will judge this strange man on how he first appears to their eyes. If you side with the Dragons, no matter your intentions, you will be labelled as a traitor and killed on sight.'' Rhunon cautioned.
After thanking Rhunon for her understanding and help, Eragon finished packing, adding a few of the newly forged tools Rhunon had made that day, convinced the small dragon to hide in another bag and quickly left. He made no effort not to be noticed: people seeing him leave hurriedly could only help his alibi.
The first week in the forest proved unexpectedly easy to Eragon. He had food in abundance, both for himself and the young dragon, and the weather was warm during the late summer nights. He headed towards the north, and favoured the parts where the forest was thick – that way, he was sure no dragon would suddenly happen upon them. The young dragon walked beside him, flew around and hunted a little. After only a couple of days, he was already too big to settle on Eragon's shoulder, and by the end of the week the young elf doubted he could carry him in his arms.
He had been careful to avoid the villages and cities they passed by, though he did risk approaching the third one after convincing the young dragon to stay hidden in a tree for a couple of hours. Eragon slowly circled the village, eavesdropping on conversations and reading the announcement boards from afar. He was reassured that there was no word of his disappearance – Rhunon had not betrayed him, and now he had several miles of advance on any pursuers. Not that he expected his master or his family to send people to look for him. Burned bodies were hard to identify, and the elves had long stopped bothering themselves with this task. A metal medal engraved with the name had been used for a few years, but most times the metal was melted by dragonfire and unreadable.
Therefore nowadays, you were assumed dead if you remained unseen for over two weeks – the time needed to cross the elven kingdom on foot for an adult. No sane elf would remain alone in the forest for so long anyway.
In fact, Eragon was somewhat surprised that he had yet to encounter a dragon. He had passed by the northernmost elven city the day before, and had expected to at least glimpse at a dragon before he left the elven lands. It seemed the attack on the nests had prompted the dragon to retreat farther than they ever had before.
He was not complaining for the extra time, however. With each passing day, the dragon grew bigger and their strange connection seemed to deepen. He often talked to it, hoping that dragons could learn their language, and nearly constantly shared his feelings with it.
Eventually, he managed to share his wish to name the young dragon, and his confusion about its sex. With some difficulty, he understood that the young dragon was female, and proposed to her the name Blueveins in reference to her sapphire scales arranged in patterns. She agreed with an enthusiastic squeak.
Another week passed, and they were still going north. They had seen some colourful points which Eragon suspected to be dragons flying, but they were too far for Blueveins to join. The thought that they were nearly arrived filled Eragon with excitement and anxiety. How would they be received? Would they listen to him? Or would they kill him, and Blueveins for treason? He nearly turned back – perhaps it would be safer to wait until Blueveins was grown and he was a couple years older, with more stature than his small twelve-year-old body currently had.
Blueveins felt his fear and, reading his thoughts, understood its cause. She replied by her own longing to meet her species and a fierce protectiveness. She would not let dragons hurt him. Though still unsure, Eragon nodded and they continued their way north. Besides, he had no idea where they could both hide from both elves and dragons for two years.
Two days later, they were crossing a clearing when a huge, unexpected wind sent the young elf sprawling on the floor. Three dragons landed and one quickly approached him, fire gathering in his mouth. Just before he could breath his hot flames on Eragon, Blueveins jumped in front of him, wings extended to protect his body as much as she could. Surprised, the dragon turned its head upwards and released the fire towards the sky. Then, he stomped heavily with his front paws, making the ground shake, and focused on the young dragon that had interrupted the execution.
After a full minute of silence and immobility, Eragon understood that the dragons were communicating through their minds. Slowly, he showed his empty hands and stood up – his head barely reached the knee of the brown dragon that had nearly killed him. Still, all three dragons were much smaller that the one from the clearing.
Several minutes passed before the dragons relaxed slightly and Blueveins folded her wings. Reaching for him with her mind, she explained him the confusion and reluctance of the three other dragons, and suggested that he try and communicate with them himself. He nodded, and claimed out loud in Ancient Language that he meant no harm. Then, for the first time, he extended his mind towards a living being that was not Blueveins.
When he felt the mind of the closest dragon, he stopped, unsure of how to proceed without offending or involuntarily attacking the dragon. He glanced at Blueveins, and felt her reaching for the dragon as well. Soon, the brown dragon was slowly examining Eragon's most recent thoughts and memories. He felt the surprise, confusion and satisfaction the perusal provoked before the dragon withdrew.
Turning towards the other two, the brown dragon seemed to converse with both and soon they flew away, heading north. Then the remaining dragon turned to Eragon again and sent him images of flying on his back with Blueveins alongside them and meeting a great, amethyst-colored dragon.
'Probably a leader of some sort.' Eragon guessed, agreeing to the dragon's offer and slowly climbing until he found a place large enough for him to settle comfortably, just behind the shoulders of the beast, and grabbed the pike ahead of him.
The take-off was not gentle, and Eragon nearly impaled his head on the pike he was holding. After some more jostling as he rose in the air, the dragon turned and headed north, following the distant forms of his two winged companions. They flew for over an hour, covering a distance that would have taken Eragon at least a couple more days on foot. He was quite impressed by the speed of the dragon, and he had a feeling that he could fly much faster – he had slowed down when he noticed that Blueveins could not quite maintain the rhythm.
They finally arrived over rocky mountains that dominated the trees and soon landed in the middle of a gathering of many dragons. Eragon slowly climbed down, looking around and noticing that there were dragons of all sizes – some barely bigger than Blueveins while the biggest one was easily twice the size of the forge of his master.
Apparently, the two dragons had warned them of his arrival, because the dragons attitude showed more curiosity than surprise. Suddenly, Eragon was glad that he was so obviously young and Blueveins still so small – they did not present a threat and the dragons were therefore least likely to attack.
The tallest dragon – whose scales glittered like as many amethysts – stepped up to Blueveins and Eragon, lowering his head to size them up with a burgundy eye. It reached out with his mind and, for the first time, Eragon heard the voice of a dragon using actual words.
'Why are you here?' The purple dragon asked in the language of the Grey Folk.
'I thought the other dragons had told you?' Eragon wondered.
'I know of your desire for peace. I know of your strong attachment for this young dragon. I know of your travel from your own home to us, the enemies of your species. I know you hope to befriend us. Now I want to hear you voice your reasons yourself, young elf.' The voice was rumbling and deep – probably male.
Out loud and in his mind, Eragon replied, using the Ancient Language to prove the sincerity of his words.
''My name is Eragon. And I just want to help end this war. To live in a world at peace, with Blueveins.''
'And how do you hope to achieve this? Your species attacked us many winters ago, and there has been no reprieve since then.'
''I don't know. But… We never actually talked, did we? I think that could be a start. Negotiations.'' He answered aloud so that all the dragons could hear – though he was unsure how many of them actually understood the words.
Most of them probably did, for they suddenly burst out laughing along with the amethyst dragon. The younger dragons soon followed – probably once the older ones translated his words in their own strange language of images and feelings, Eragon guessed.
'The best solution is often the most simple one, indeed. Yes, perhaps if dragons and elves could battle with words instead of weapons and claws, we might achieve peace. It is at least worth a try, in my opinion. However, the main problem is precisely that we have never talked. Do you really think we would all happily invite the elves on these rocks? Especially now, after you destroyed our eggs?'
''So, you think it's impossible?'' Eragon asked, defeated. Could it be that all he had done these last two years had been for nothing? His apprenticeship as a blacksmith – and his abandoning it? Saving Blueveins' egg? Kuthian's painful death? All his hopes destroyed because no grown-ups would accept to swallow their pride and search for a better solution?
'No, young Eragon. I do not believe your dream to be impossible. However, it will probably be harder to achieve than you had imagined.' The old dragon explained softly, seeing the young elf's discomfiture.
''Why? You could send a message to the King – I could write it down for you – and just drop it in the city from the sky, and then meet on neutral ground. You would not need to expose yourself to the elves bows and magic.'' Eragon proposed.
'It is not so easy, for several reasons. Your presence will probably be helpful as a link between our species – you already know that we do not usually express ourselves as you or the Dwarves do.' Eragon nodded – he felt ready for this role.
'However, the first step before any contact can take place is for our own species to agree for such negotiations, and find who will represent us. Unlike you, we do not have a King, or any leader of any sort. Freedom is the essence of a dragon. Hierarchy would be in complete contradiction with our very nature. If some dragons refuse the peace treaty negotiated, they will not obey its rules and eventually attack your cities again. They would not consider it treason, because they would not consider themselves bound by a promise they did not utter themselves.'
''But… How do you interact with the Dwarves and any others species from Alagaesia? This cannot be the first time you have had to make decisions that all the dragons would have to follow.''
''Indeed, it is not. Once again, the answer is quite simple, but it will be a long process. All the dragons will have to be convinced that this is the best option. You already have my support, though I would like to witness the entire story from your mind if you do not mind.''
Eragon hesitated slightly. He knew that Blueveins would likely see whatever he showed the purple dragon, and he wasn't sure how she would react to the memory of the attack on the nest. He had carefully avoided thoughts of how he had obtained her egg because he had no wish for the dying dragon to be her first image of her own kind. However, he realized that the dragons would need him to be completely honest and open, especially at first. He nodded, and felt the old dragon carefully search through his memories. He seemed particularly interested by the shock he had received when he had first touched the newly-hatched dragon.
'If you do not mind, I will share your story with the others, so that al may see that you are truthful. You are not used to linking your mind with anyone but the hatchling by your side, and they may spread your story to the dragons they encounter during their travels.'
Eragon nodded his assent but did not speak out, sensing that there was more the purple dragon wished to talk about.
'I would like to see your palm.'
Wordlessly, the young elf took a couple steps forward and held out his hand. The odd scar did not bother him, and he had mostly gotten used to it. Now, he hoped the dragon might be able to explain what it was. Blueveins glanced curiously at the scene, and he felt her own anticipation.
The dragon stared at his palm for a long while, before turning to Blueveins and watching her snout for several seconds. Then he raised his head and took one step back.
'I must confess that I am surprised. The phenomena you both experienced since Blueveins and you first touched is not unknown to us dragons, though from your confusion I would guess that it is not known to elves. However, I have never heard of this happening outside of our species. And amongst dragons, it is quite a rare occurrence.' The great dragon explained in a slow rumble.
Eragon stared at his silvery palm.
''And what is it, Sir?'' He asked eagerly but politely.
Small puffs of smoke escaped the purple dragon as he emitted noise that reminded Eragon of crumbling rocks. He understood with some surprise that the dragon was laughing.
'We have no use for your elven polite titles. Dragons value freedom above all else. Such titles sound far too much like a hierarchy.'
He calmed down and blinked, fixing his gigantic eye on the young elf and dragon.
'As for your question, what you are experiencing is a rare but completely natural bond. Sometimes, two eggs will not hatch even though there is more than enough food for growing hatchlings. When you bring these eggs to the same place, they both hatch, and the hatchlings immediately seek each other. As soon as they touch, a surge of Magic can be felt, and their minds are forever linked. Such dragons are always close friends, and it is not rare for them to become mates.'
''But… I am not a dragon. And I am twelve years old, whereas Blueveins hatched barely two weeks ago. And what do you mean exactly, that the eggs will not hatch? They don't exactly have a choice, do they?'' Eragon asked, bewildered.
The exchange was interrupted by an orange dragon dumping a clawful of dry wood on the rock, a few feet away from the young boy, before breathing fire onto the pile. Noticing that the night was starting to fall and the air was getting colder, Eragon gratefully settled closer to the fire to enjoy the warmth.
'Birds cannot choose when they hatch, but dragons can. No dragon would hatch if its fate was to starve to death, but such situations are thankfully rare occurrences. The bond you experience is, in theory, possible in any species that has a bond to Magic. We remember similar bondings within the Grey Folk.'
Blueveins nudged Eragon mentally, and pointed out the other dragons attitude. Most had settled comfortably on the ground and were listening with rapt attention to the older dragon.
'It has been theorized that such bondings are the consequence of a soul being split in two different bodies – or perhaps identical souls that would resonate and act as one, which is basically almost the same thing but those old men liked to debate for hours over inconsequential details. Because of this separation, the soul creates the permanent bond of minds to achieve completeness.'
''But… we never heard of such a thing from the Dwarves, or the Urgals. And they have spellcasters, so it can't be a lack of Magic.'' Eragon objected.
'Just because the bond doesn't happen, it doesn't mean that split souls never happen. Are there not tales of children that are born too early, or who die young from an unexplainable weak constitution? Though the Grey Folk did not lay eggs like dragons, their pregnancies were usually short, but could prolong without harm to the mother or the child. It was therefore surmised that beings that held a split soul could not survive long without their other half. They were usually born or laid within a few years of each other. In the Kingdom of Small people, the first half would be born, and then the second half would often come too early for the body to survive. The first would then wither away in a couple of years.'
'Basically, as long as both half of the souls are alive, the bodies are fine. However, the beings are restless because their souls are seeking each other, and they will feel incomplete until they form a bond. For dragons, it means that the hatchling will not leave the safety of its shell until it feels its other half near. This ability to remain in our shell is probably the reason why our history has seen such a bond every half-century or so. The Grey Folk were so infused in Magic, the first half could wait quite long for the second one to be born, so they did not suffer like the Dwarves.'
'I suspect your species is most like the Dwarves in that aspect. It is not that such a bond is impossible – simply that it is rare for a soul to be split, and that the children rarely both survive long enough for a bond to happen.'
Slowly, Eragon nodded. It made sense. Still, there was one detail that was unclear.
''You are surprised that such a bond happened between Blueveins and I. Why? Has there never been a bond between the Grey Folk and the Dragons?'' He wondered.
The dragon used his claws to crush a few uncomfortable rocks and laid down.
'No. They were welcome in our nest-places, just as we were welcomed into their towns, but we were very different. Our souls were different.' He paused, obviously thinking of an appropriate way to explain his last statement. 'In a species, there are traits that are shared by all individuals, and others that vary from one person to the next. It is those essential traits that differed too much between the Dragons and the Folk. They strived for a strictly organized society while we relish in freedom. They were frightened by the absence of a roof over their heads while we need the open skies. They disliked travels, to the point of relying on other species to learn of the world beyond their frontiers, while dragons enjoy flying to every corner of Alagaesia.'
'Your species, I suppose, is closer to us in those aspects. Or perhaps, you have more different personalities, and some of your souls are similar to a dragon soul.'
The young elf frowned.
''I don't understand. If a soul can split by accident, why couldn't a member of the Folk have a dragon soul by accident? Or the other way around?'' He asked.
'Because the body and the soul would not be suited to each other. The being would be.. unbalanced.'
The dragon blinked.
'Your question raises a new hypothesis for your particular case, though. Perhaps you have half of a split dragon soul, and it is only chance that your body is that of an elf. But unlike the Grey Folk, your elven body is able to accept this soul.'
The young elf squirmed.
''I have always felt apart. Like I did not think like everyone else. And the idea of killing a dragon was as absurd as the idea of killing an elf.'' He confessed.
The old dragon nodded slowly.
'I suppose that would support our new hypothesis. Perhaps there will be other like you in the future.'
An image of Kuthian flashed through Eragon's mind.
''Actually, there might have already been one. A couple years ago, there was an elf who seemed to think like me. Kuthian, his name was Kuthian. I have never even talked to him – not really – but somehow I felt… kinship with him. But he was labelled as a traitor and killed.'' He finished sadly.
The dragon raised his head, seeming extremely interested by this last bit of information.
'Two years ago? When exactly did he die? Do you remember?'
''Er… A few weeks before dragons attacked the schools and such.'' He stated hesitantly. That was the only event he could think of that dragons would know about – all the other were elven special days that celebrated historical figures or events.
'When the elves attacked our nests, they lured us away first. Do you know if any of your spellcasters would be able to break our egg from your own cities?' The dragon enquired.
Confused by the change of subject, the boy shook his head before replying.
''I couldn't know for sure, but I doubt it. It took a very long time to prepare that attack, and the leaders anticipated many losses amongst our soldiers. It takes fifteen years to train a soldier, so they usually try to limitate casualties whenever they can.''
'Um… Two years ago, several groups of dragons attacked the elven children because one of our eggs suddenly shattered. There are very few things that can destroy a dragon egg. Many of us were convinced that one of your spellcaster had found a way to destroy our offspring from afar, and intended to use it. But no other egg has broken since then, until our nests were attacked.'
Eragon could feel Blueveins confusion in addition to his own.
''I am not sure I understand what you are trying to say.''
'I believe, young Eragon, that you are the second elf born with half of a dragon soul. This Kuthian might have been the first, and when he died, his other, unhatched, half died with him.'