Pale Hope
By Namine3419
Chapter Eleven: A Family Legacy
Reviewers: Thank you again for the wonderful reviews! Sorry to keep you waiting, but we were updating to Vista and it sorta erased all my other files... Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and I can't wait for all your wonderful reviews!
Blah: I'm such a nerd. I'm going to by the special edition of Eldest just so I can have that extra chapter...yeah.
There was nothing but utter silence, the only noise was of the wind howling above them, causing the dry blades of grass to russel like paper. The sky was crystal clear, letting the light of the full moon light up the awkward reunion. Murtagh swallowed a lump in his throat, aware of his hands shaking. Saphira shifted her weight, and Eragon looked to his feet. Roran was the second one to speak, "So, you're my cousin, eh?"
A grim smile broke his nervous features, "Yes," Murtagh laughed, "I guess I am."
"You must take after your father," Roran said, looking at Eragon. He cocked his head, his eyes darting back and forth between the two brothers, "So, which one of you is the oldest?"
"Would you stop!" Eragon cried, his face disfigured by a horrible grimace, "This is bad enough as it is without you making snide remarks!"
"I was just trying to lighten the mood!" Roran stomped towards the smaller of the men, "Maybe if you had the courage to say something to him, I wouldn't have to keep babbling like an idiot!" He glared at Thorn, "Stop stalling and tell us your plan."
There's no need to get huffy at me! Thorn shouted back, snarling. He almost knocked Murtagh out of his saddle as he reared back, look, it's not my fault if these two are to stupid to make ammends!
"Hey!" Cried Murtagh and Eragon, then they looked away from eachother, scowling. Running his fingers through his hair, Murtagh grumbled, "So, what's this about a plan?"
Saphira inched closer, keeping a catious eye on the other Rider. She knew what he was capable of; holding down a dragon and her Rider was not a simple task. Especially at the same time. She lowered her head, becoming eye-level with Murtagh, Thorn has an idea of how to rescue you from Galbatorix.
"Oh he did?" He began to dig his heels into Thorn's side, a little bit harder than need be, "And why wasn't I informed of this?"
You were to busy flirting to notice anything! Thorn bucked, causing Murtagh to loose his grip and fall to the ground. Thorn flicked his tounge, then turned to Saphira, Alright, now to my plan. You may want to get comfortable; I don't want any interruptions. He eyed Eragon playfully, Especially from this little one.
An indignant frown crossed Eragon's features, if only for a moment, and Murtagh had to stiffle a laugh. Roran shoved his younger cousin playfully, "He knows you well, I see."
"No," he replied, "only his Rider's memories." He walked to Saphira's side and lowered himself to the ground, leaning up against her warm under-belly. He looked up and smiled, "Alright, dragon, tell us what to do."
Good. Now, I know this isn't going to be simple; even with the combined strength of you two, he paused and looked at the brothers. I think we may need a third, if not a fourth dragon for this to work.
"And how," Roran interrupted, "are we going to achieve that? I thought there were only two of you, save Galbatorix's monster, and I highly doubt that he'd be interested."
Are you so blind, fool? Thorn growled, his face only inches from Roran's, have you not noticed how comfortable you are around my kind? How easy it was for you to ride me, even though you've never been on a dragon before? Roran stared at him with the blank eyes of ignorance. Thorn roared in aggrivation.
Murtagh touched his side, calming him, "What my inpacient friend is trying to tell you," he had a dangerous smirk on his face, his eyes alight, "is that you, Roran, are the third Dragon Rider." He laughed, "Well, it must be in our blood!"
"That isn't something to be taken so lightly," Eragon added somberly. He rubbed his eyes, "Even more of my kin are in danger now."
"Since when did you even start considering me, 'your kin'?" Murtagh stormed towards Eragon, his fists clenched, "The look on your face told me all I needed to know about how you felt about that! Don't you even dare think that I'm related to you, because I surely don't want to think of you as a brother!" He turned on Thorn next, "And you! You of all people should know that this is a bad idea!" He started to pace around him in a circle, "What if this doesn't work? Did you think of that?"
Yes, now, he nudged his Rider into a sitting position, if you'll let me continue. I think if we get Roran to the palace, or have someone inside take the last dragon egg out, then we can have three dragons instead of only two. Then, just maybe, if we fuse all our powers inside of Murtagh, he'll be strong enough to break the spell!
There was a long pause, and Thorn began to feel as though their eyes were burning holes into his hide. Somewhere far off a cricket began to sing. Roran started laughing, doubling over, "That is your great plan?!" Tears began to form in his eyes, "How are you going to pull that off? If we go into that castle, we'll not be finding dragon eggs, no, but quick and painful deaths!"
"This does sound rather fishy," Eragon added, keeping his smirk hidden. Saphira nudged him to hush.
Murtagh sighed, patting his friend on the side, "It was a nice effort, Thorn, but--"
No! Thorn cried, this will work! I know it! I just . . . He sighed, lowering his head, I just thought that maybe your teacher would have a solution to this.
"My teacher?" Eragon stood, his face in utter shock, "How do you know about him?"
Well, Thorn said slowly, someone had to teach you all those things. He laughed slightly, and besides, you just admitted you had one.
Eragon's ears started to turn red, and Saphira jumped in to save him, I do not think that either of our masters can aid you in this plight. I'm sorry Thorn, she lowered her head, sad blue eyes staring back at him, but I don't think we can help you.
No one talked for the longest time. Thorn rested his head on the ground, defeated, and Roran began to cook a small stew of random vegetables and animals they were lucky enough to find in the desolate grassland. Eragon was drawing circles in the dirt next to him, not really paying attention to much else but his tiny ovals. A few stray cows loomed over to their right, their distant mooing becoming a light lamnent of the impending fight that would soon begin.
Murtagh sighed, his back turned from the other two. He felt his hands beginning to go numb, and Thorn popped his head up worriedly. The oath's magic was already taking affect, and soon Murtagh would hardly be able to stand. Then, out of nowhere, he began to laugh. He laughed so hard that it startled the rest of the tiny group. "It's funny," he said bitterly, "it's so god damned funny I think I'm going to go insane."
"Murtagh . . ." Eragon walked over to him, placing a friendly hand on his shoulder.
As soon as his fingers touched, Murtagh began to fall into a fit of spasms, his back afire with new pain. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he felt himself falling to the ground. As he writhed, he could faintly feel Eragon and Roran trying to substain him, but to no avail. His thrashings were to harsh, so violent that when he jerked a sharp pain from the joint would fire us his spine, adding to the constant pain of his back.
Then the voices came. All the thousands of voices, screaming at him; demanding an answer to why he wasn't fullfilling his duty to his lord. Many were shrieks and wails, whereas others were distinct voices of his past. He heard Tornac's, low and gently, begging him to forget about any loyalty or friendship he might have shared with Eragon, and just take him to the king. Then he heard the rasping, rageful voice of his father. He was laughing at him, calling him a failer and that he would never become a true Rider. Lastly, he heard a sweet, clear voice, but it was distorted and hard to hear, as if from a great distance. Soon nothing else occupied his mind; he needed to get to this voice.
Murtagh's world went black, and soon he could see a faint, glowing figure infront of him. It was the shape of a woman garbed in white. She turned slowly, only her lips visible. She smiled, then said, "Murtagh . . ."
Uru'baen Palace
Elaina shivered, her eyes slowly opening to the darkness of her room. Winking twice, she sat up, holding the covers around her shoulders. A dream, she thought, it was only a dream. In her sleep she'd witnessed Murtagh racing to the garden, greeting Thorn for the first time in days. They flew off into a clearing not far from the castle and met with two other men. Needless to say there was much tension between the two parties, and Elaina felt quite sorry for Murtagh and his awkward position. They talked about a curse for a while, then all seemed to grow quiet. Then, out of nowhere, Murtagh began to laugh and suddenly looked as though he had been hacked in the back with a longsword.
She shook her head, slipped her feet out of the bed, and began to walk out of her room. She knew this was ridiculous, of course, but that dream had planted uncertainty in her mind that she couldn't shake. He'll be there, she reasured herself, walking down the hallway, that was just a stupid dream.
She reached the oaken door of Murtagh's room, withdrawing her hand from it's side; she didn't want to wake him by knocking. Carefully, she cracked the door open and peered inside. A silver ribbon of moonlight cascaded into the room through an open window, red drapes dancing on the evening breeze. The wooden floorboard creaked with every footfall she made, causing her to wince. As she drew closer to the bed, her heart began to thump in her ears until she couldn't make out anyother sound.
Elaina gasped, touching the bedside in disbelief. "He's not here!" She said, panic rising in her breast, "Why isn't he here?!" She stepped back, almost tripping over a lone boot. She held her hand to her heart, it's alright, she told herself, he's probably in the washroom or just stepped out of a walk.
Clutching her shirt, Elaina dashed out of the room, hurring towards the garden. It took her awhile to find it, for she'd only glimpsed it in her dreams. She ran down seemingly endless corridors, taking rights and lefts around the gigantic fortress until she knew she was utterly lost within the great stone walls. Finally, she leaned up against a wall, a gigantic black door closing off her path.
After a few moments she jumped away from her resting place. For some reason it had burned her back. She catiously laid a hand on the brick that had been on her back, but it was cool to the touch. Another pulse of heat eminated from her back, this time centering around her tattoo. She shivered as the unfamiliar sensation ran up her spine. An overwhelming urge to open those two black doors suddenly overpowered her, and she felt her feet carrying her towards the gigantic opening. With every inch that she drew closer, the farther and farther away her conciousness flew from her. The only thing on her mind was what was behind those two doors.
They opened to the sound of scratching stone against stone, a dim red light flooding the hallway beyond. Elaina stepped in, awestruck at the sight she beheld. There, on a pedistal made of onyx, rested a beautiful emerald stone. Something in her heart told her that this was nothing near a stone, but the remaining dragon egg. Her tattoo was on fire now, and a pale light began to surround her body. She reached out a pale hand, slowly touching the surface of the egg. . .
Outskirts, Uru'baen
"What's happening to him?!" Eragon placed a cool rag upon Murtagh's brow, trying to give him a slight comfort. He'd been writhing on the ground for well over an hour.
Roran was busy holding him down to respond. He had the other man's arms pinned, for both their safty and his own, when he noticed the his right palm was glowing, "Eragon," he asked, slightly afraid, "what is that?"
His eyes widened as he grasped Roran's shoulder, "Run!"
They leaped just in time. A blinding flash of bright green light exploded from Murtagh's hand. Smoke, or rather steam, began to cover up their campsite, obscuring their view. Thorn rushed in, his thoughts to muddled and worried to make coherent language. Saphira soon joined him in the mist. She cried out, Eragon! Come here, quickly!
Eragon leaped from the ground, rushing into the tiny cloud. He soon found the two dragons, hoveling over Murtagh's body. He had on eye open and was smiling weakly, "Well," he said, his voice a faint gasp, "look what I have. . ."
Eragon gasped, then rushed to his brother's side. There, in his bleeding palm, was the third dragon egg.
