Hello peoples of fanfiction! Here is chapter eleven! Thank you so much to Retrained Freedom, ShatterTheHeavens and Disk 9 for your reviews of last chapter. I really value your feedback : ) and thank you, RF, I will try not to fail socials :P so here it is, please review and I hope you enjoy : )
I don't want to talk, Meralaena growled at Char when she got back.
What happened to the soldiers back there? He demanded, ignoring her tone. I smell blood and anger. Meralaena, what have you done?
Char expected her to ignore the question, or even snap back at him, but he never expected her to do what she did. Meralaena yelled, something he hadn't known she was capable of.
"I said I don't want to talk about it!"
Maybe you need to anyway, Char replied, not reacting to her frayed temper. He knew something had happened.
"I – I don't –" She faltered, her anger giving way to a well of regret. She took a few deep breaths and sat down hard, leaning against the stone wall behind them. A few long moments later she spoke. Char was puzzled and a little bit frightened by her tone – it was cold somehow, lifeless. Like she'd fought a loosing battle with no hope of wining.
"Sometimes…" She paused, and then forged ahead again. "Sometimes I have a problem with my temper. All the Grey Folk do, or at least they did. It's like… It's comparable to a shark that scents blood, or a predator that senses weakness. When I loose control I can't stop – It's a frenzy. I can't control or stop it once it gets started. I feel the rage and then…" Char waited, and when Meralaena didn't continue, he prodded,
And then?
"Then, wherever I am, if there's an enemy nearby, they die. Always. It's very hard when that happens. The craving to kill in anger, it's instinct. It's what all Gray Folk feel in battle and in danger, and it can be very helpful when it strikes at the right moment. But if, like now, it might have been better to avoid those soldiers… I have tried to override the urge to destroy my enemies and learn to control it, but when it catches me unawares, like with those men, I don't realize it's happening till it's over." She fingered the hilt of her dagger, still in her hands, as she confessed to Char what not even Nasuada and Eragon knew. Of all the people she could have – or maybe should have – told, her sister was the only one who had known, simply because her sister had shared in it.
Thank you for telling me, Meralaena, Char said sincerely and almost formally. I, being a dragon, can understand… The fierce joy of combat, the rush, the rage, all these feeling are traits of both dragons and Gray Folk. Do not despise what you are, he said gently. Most paired Riders and Dragons balance each other out; the rider being gentler and more subdued while the dragon is fierce. We are different in that respect, I think… We are exactly what Alageasia needs in times like these, both Rider and dragon sharing the dangerous instincts and characteristics of a Firstborn Dragon.
"A Firstborn? What does that mean?" Meralaena interrupted.
Firstborn? It means that I am one of the very first dragons that ever landed in Alagaesia. The dragons the Riders were paired with were only a shadow of their ancestors. Most of the Firstborn produced colored offspring, like Saphira, Thorn and Shrewken, but a very few produced dragons like themselves – pure white, sometimes with silver.
Meralaena was silent for a while, contemplating. After a minute, she asked, "What is the difference between a Firstborn dragon like you and a normal one? Besides coloring, I mean."
The differences we know of are mostly subtle and not worth noting… except one rather large one. Of all the variations among dragonkind, only the Firstborn can control the magic that is only briefly available to our colored kin. You see, sometimes the ability to use magic becomes available to a dragon, and when it does, that dragon's strength, both physical and otherwise, is unmatched. Of all the dragons alive in Alagaesia, I am the only one with the ability to control and use this gift. That makes us a massive threat to Galbatorix… Perhaps even more than Eragon and Saphira, because, gifted and powerful though they are, Eragon is human, and Saphira is not a Firstborn. And as I am a Firstborn, that makes me the most powerful dragon in existence. And you as well, Rider, are not ordinary – even among your own people, were they still alive.
Meralaena sat transfixed by this new information – it was all so much to absorb. Char a Firstborn… And he was right about her not being ordinary.
"But… Why have I never heard about the Firstborns before?" Meralaena asked. "I studied dragon and elven history in Du Weldenvarden, and never once was there anything like this mentioned."
Char hummed deep in his throat. The records of the Firstborn Dragons have faded from livable memory. There are no written accounts, and even the elves are not old enough to recall the days before the riders. There are perhaps three or four elves that may remember something about us, but that is all. It is not common knowledge, even among the immortals.
Silence fell for a moment as the Meralaena came to grips with the new information.
Um… Meralaena? Char said, unusually hesitant.
Yes, Char? Meralaena responded.
I was just thinking… about Glenaldor.
"Ah," Meralaena said in understanding. "Yes, I thought that might have been bothering you."
Is it… I mean to say, do you always react so calmly when a friend dies? Meralaena didn't respond right away as she worked out how to answer.
"It's… hard to say," she eventually answered. "Glenaldor's death was unexpected, and to loose a friend that way is never easy. As to why I didn't react in the way you expected…" her voice faded, and a fire entered her eyes. "I have lost so many people already. Loosing one more just adds to the body count of my dead friends."
Char whimpered uneasily, unable to sense clearly the emotion radiating from his rider.
"This is your first experience with death," Meralaena said. "It makes sense that you'd be a bit unsettled. And as well you should be; the day you do not grieve for a dead friend is the day you loose who you are."
I just… I have always known about death, Char said. But to see it first hand was quite unpleasant.
A cat yowled nearby, breaking into Char's words, and Meralaena started violently. "I'm an idiot!" She spat furiously to herself as she clambered to her feet. "Here we are in enemy territory, the two most wanted beings in Alageasia, being hunted by the king, and I just sit down for a nice story telling!" Meralaena continued to throw verbal abuse at herself as she quickly cleaned her blade, still wet from killing the soldiers, and grabbed her pack and Char's bag. She held it open for him, but he hesitated.
I don't like riding in that bag, He growled, eyeing it with intense distaste. It's dark and cramped… Do you think the people of Furnost know what happened to Glenador? That Thorn and Murtagh, and later us, were there?
"Probably, but we don't know."
Well, I vote for showing ourselves to them and then escaping.
"Are you mad? We'd have half the king's army on us in a day, and all his spellweavers! Not to mention Thorn and Murtagh. It would be like handing ourselves in!"
Think about it, Char said, undeterred. Yes, showing ourselves would draw attention, but soon I'll be able to fly and keep up with you running, that should put us ahead of them. And you can contact Nasuada and request that she send help, maybe even Eragon and Saphira. It would give these people hope.
Meralaena was silent, thinking. "It's suicide," she said at last. Another pause, then: "But I like it. After all," she said with a fierce grin, "Since we're going to spend eternity together, we might as well start taking chances now!" Char let out what was supposed to be a satisfied roar but was really more of a squeak. Meralaena smiled wider.
"I don't think we should contact Nasuada though," she said.
Why not? Char asked.
"Galbatorix is already on the hunt for us. If we added Eragon and Saphira to the mix, he'd go crazy trying to catch all four of us. Besides, I think we can make it back to the Varden without assistance."
Alright, Char gave in. But if things get worse, we'll have to get help.
"Agreed," Meralaena said. "Let's show ourselves."
Okay, so here it is. What did you think? Please review, I will give you cookies if you review *holds out cookie plate* Thanks so much for reading : ) see you next week!
