"Ready?"
Eragon was sure he could never be ready. He was madly running scenarios, attempting to anticipate Roran's every question. Mundane facts-of-life were suddenly both of great importance and scarily distant. Which crops did we plant last autumn? Did Birka or Brugh strain their leg? These questions, he knew, were not what he should be focusing on, but he hardly wanted to focus on Roran. Besides, it was beginning to sink in that while he had knowledge of the future, he was rather out-of-touch with the present.
There had, of course, been an argument over whether they should tell Roran anything at all. If they talked to Roran, why not Garrow? In fact, Eragon had argued with himself over the subject before voicing an opinion. Bottom line, He didn't want Roran involved at all. They had agreed in the end, however, that leaving Roran in the dark the first time hadn't been a favor to anyone. He had proved himself capable of leading and protecting. Furthermore, his loyalty to the cause was unquestionable. So Eragon resolved to tell him what he could. Roran could protect Carvahall in a way he had never been able to.
Eragon nodded, signaling to Brom that he was ready enough. Still, he expected the worst. Brom's oaths prevented him from speaking the whole truth, but they hadn't forced him to renounce Selena's heritage. At the time, he couldn't think of another plausible explanation for his mixed race. He still couldn't. Now he couldn't change his story regardless. The oaths did force him into that. At least we can speak in the common tongue for once. He thought as Brom propped Roran's limp form against a tree.
"Vakna." Brom's palm glowed.
Roran's eyelids fluttered open. His eyes darted from one strange figure to another in the fading light. He decided to address the ghost first. "Brom?"
Brom gave a half-smile. "Evening Roran."
"They're planning your funeral in town. At least, they were…"
"Cloaked figures?", Brom asked.
Roran nodded. "Didn't like the look of them. Thought I'd come to Eragon's old favorite spot…
He knew of it this whole time? Eragon exclaimed, though only Saphira could hear him.
"Um… what's going on?"
"Well, I'm not dead." Brom gestured to his left. "This is Arya. She is an elf."
Arya nodded in greeting.
"I shall let Eragon explain the rest."
Roran looked as if he had stumbled into a seance.
Eragon shifted forward. "Roran."
Roran turned toward the familiar voice, but when he saw who had spoken, he only looked confused.
"He is Eragon, I assure you," Brom spoke gently.
Roran stood up and approached Eragon. His look shifted from confusion to apprehension. But he must have seen the resemblance where Brom had not, for he promptly slapped Eragon in the face.
Eragon couldn't help but smile a bit, but he hid it quickly. Some things never change. "I suppose I deserved that."
"That you did."
Arya had settled on the other side of the clearing, her back to them, occupying herself. Though Eragon didn't doubt that she could hear every word.
"What happened?"
Eragon motioned to Roran, towards his favorite shade tree on the edge of the clearing. He sat down cross-legged.
Eragon considered using a spell to keep the others from hearing but decided against it. Their stories would need to line up. Saphira! She wound her way to him, appearing suddenly out of the tall grass, startling Roran.
Roran stared at the angular blue lizard for a moment, uncomprehending. She unfurled her wings a bit as she rubbed her head against his side. "Is that…"
"A dragon," Eragon stated, holding up his marked palm. "And I am her rider."
Roran burst out laughing. He convulsed against the log and couldn't stop himself for several minutes.
Eragon huffed irritatedly. But, he couldn't help but join in, laughing at the absurdity of the circumstances.
"I found her egg in the Spine. Then I began dreaming of an elf being tortured by a shade. I left… to free her."
Still chuckling, he found it difficult to speak. "You ran off into the forest… to find a shade… and what? Slay it?" Roran asked incredulously.
Eragon nodded.
"Blast Eragon, what are you talking about? You're a farm boy! You don't even know how to fight."
"Two years ago, there was… an incident with some urgals. I accidentally used magic and nearly killed myself — along with the everyone in the village. Brom decided to teach me to use magic properly after that, along with swordsmanship."
"Brom?" Roran asked, his disbelief only seemed to be growing. He seemed to find Eragon's change in appearance more believable than the old man teaching swordplay.
"Aye, Brom." Eragon replied with a huff. "Brom was a dragon rider of old… and he's my father."
"A dragon rider? But that would mean…"
"That he's over a century old? Aye, he is."
Roran let himself lean against a nearby tree, arms folded. "If Brom really is your father, how do you explain…" For lack of a better word, Roran pointed to all of Eragon.
Eragon glanced to Saphira, who was relishing his attention, curving her back like a cat. No way around it, huh Saphira. Brom and his blasted oaths.
"As you probably guessed, I'm not entirely human. My… mother was an elf."
Roran's breath caught.
"I don't actually know what happened," Eragon said. "Brom isn't exactly forthcoming with information. But I know that Brom and Selena were friends, and that Galbatorix has been looking for elves since the fall. So, more than likely my parents hid me here to keep Galbatorix from finding me. I know my mother was a magician. She and Brom must have used what spells they could to hide me here."
"Why not hide you with the other elves?"
"Because…" Thus far his answers had been pre-fabricated, but Eragon wasn't ready for that one. He had to pause. "I was born mortal. Arya over there…" he gestured with a tilt of his head, "is over a century old. If I was really an elf, I wouldn't mature until I was around 60 or 70. It's easy enough to change facial features, dull the senses, and lessen strength. But to give someone longevity… it usually ends in disaster."
Roran was silent. The sky had turned deep purple by now, and with the new moon, Eragon wasn't sure that Roran could see anything.
"What now?" Roran finally croaked.
"I'm leaving." Eragon said. "Saphira — my dragon — is the last female of her kind. I need to protect her, and learn to be a rider. And when she is strong enough," he turned, looking into the forest. "And when she is strong enough we're going to take Galbatorix off the throne."
Roran couldn't help but crack up again. "First a shade, now the king?"
If Roran could see in the dark, he would have been frightened by the look on his cousin's face. "The shade is dead. I slew him. I will do the same to the king."
Roran didn't have to see his eyes to know he was serious. "Why? Why not just stay here, raise Saphira in peace? Or is this place not good enough for you any more? You don't want to be around us measly humans?"
Eragon didn't respond for a moment. The contempt in Roran's voice caught him off guard. "My love for this place, these people, for Carvahall… is why I must leave. You saw the hooded strangers? They are Galbatorix's dragon-hunters, they're coming for me Roran. Actually, you should get home. Anyone missing will be suspect, especially tonight. Be careful. They're very strong, and they aren't human. Keep your head down, protect Garrow and Katrina, and with any luck we'll see each other again."
"So that's it then. We're not related, and you're off to kill the king."
"It's not as if he has a choice." Brom's voice carried from across the clearing. "Eragon won't leave Alagaësia. And if he stays, Galbatorix will find him eventually. When he does, Eragon will either have to join him or fight." Brom said, his voice getting louder as he walked towards them, "You are a liability. If you stick around, the Ra'zac will find you, torture you, and Eragon here will make me come back to rescue you. Considering Eragon's luck, he'd probably get captured along with you. I agree, you need to go, but after you swear silence on the matter."
He took some convincing, but Roran finally swore not to tell Eragon's story in the ancient language. Eragon even taught him the rudiments of guarding his mind to practice. After a tearful goodbye on Eragon's part, they parted ways. "Next time we meet, I'll take you and Katrina flying in a free Alagaësia!" Eragon called.
Roran stopped and looked back.
"You did sell the rings I left you, right?"
Roran paused a moment "The gold ones? Aye."
"Well go ahead and marry her then! I'm not that big of an idiot, I know what those messages you had me running between you meant!"
Roran merely shook his head and smiled. "So long brother, and nice shirt!"
Eragon looked down. He was wearing one of the shirts he had taken from Roran's room. "Thanks…" he said, looking back up, but Roran was gone. Still, Eragon couldn't help but smile. Roran had called him brother, there was hope for them yet.