Pömnuria Hjarta er medh Ono
A/N: Hi again you guys. Thanks for the support on the last chapter. Updates have been haunting me lately, and I apologize for the sudden and unexpected hiatus. I honestly don't like writing this arc of the story much, so writing it didn't come easy at all, so please forgive the short length of this chapter. That aside! This visiting arc is coming to a close and the next arc of the story is nearly going to begin, and I'm hoping that the interest in the subject matter may be a tad bit more enjoyable for me and you guys! So, with that, I finish my little distracting side talk.
I hope you guys aren't too disappointed by my severe fail of a chapter. ; _ ;
Disclaimer: Yeah… Plots always kick me in the ass in the long run. I honestly have no idea how I would ever be able to write four super long books with the same plot. Not mine.
ENJOY!
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When Eragon had said that the nest was at the heart of Skulblaka Nidum, Murtagh didn't realize that he legitimately meant the heart. As Murtagh and Thorn followed the blue Rider and his dragon, they were starting to realize that they were going deeper and deeper into the mountain itself, walking down long dark corridors light only by a few torches that Eragon lit along the way. The air was damper and heavier within the core of the mountain, filling their lungs with a musky, earthy chill. The deeper they walked, the more Murtagh started to notice a strange, alive feeling to the air. He eyed the walls, noting the hints of moss and trails of moisture upon the rocky surface.
"There's water within the mountain?" he inquired. Eragon gave him a small smile.
"This mountain is unique," the blue Rider explained. "When we first came here, the mountain's height was the reason we saw it, but not the reason we stayed. It felt as though the mountain itself were calling to us, asking us to let it shelter our young and nurture our budding order. I do not know how to explain it, but we knew this to be the place that we wanted to place Skulblaka Nidum. There are still secrets that even Saphira and I do not know about this place, but we know it is safe." Murtagh silently observed the walls as they walked further into the mountain. Eragon was right. It was truly a safe, natural stronghold.
Eventually, the air changed a bit as they traveled deeper. Thorn took deep, full breaths through his nose, smelling the air. A distinct lift in his shoulders and the quickening of his pace had Murtagh wondering just what exactly he was smelling in the air. After a while longer of walking, Murtagh noticed that Eragon stopped lighting torches, a light from the end of the tunnel illuminating the way. As they grew closer to the exit of the tunnel, Murtagh felt his breath leave his lungs in surprise.
The interior of the mountain was so much more than just a crevice within a mountain; it was a sanctuary. It was like an untouched world had grown within the hallowed interior of the tall mountain: trees reached for the ceiling of the mountain, their canopies wide and protective; grasses greener and softer than any Murtagh had ever seen stretched across the expanse of his eye, creating a calming meadow; a pond of bubbling, cool water lapped lazily near the trees, mixing a soft water sound with the sounds of nature encompassing the area. Near the seemingly distant top of the mountain, tunnels exiting to the outside let in clean air and natural light. The light struck glittering crystallites that seemingly grew from the walls, spreading the light evenly around the hallow mountain core. From the soft light cascading around them, a rainbow of glittering colors brought Murtagh's gaze to the Eldunari protecting the area from their resting places along the walls of the sanctuary.
Stepping slowly into the sanctuary, Murtagh could only stare. He could see three young dragons from where he stood. A small, wide-eyed purple dragon stood frozen in fear, crouching over the edge of the pool of crystal-like water, watching them carefully from where he sat. Higher up, a larger, bright yellow dragon swooped between perching spots along the mountain's rocky interior, letting out curious warning calls. The third dragon was the biggest, curled up comfortably upon a large, flat rock in the center of the room, eyes closed as its deep green scales reflected the incoming light.
"Believe it or not, but this was already here when we found the mountain," Eragon said, stepping up beside Murtagh. "Granted, we made a few necessary additions, like wards and the tunnels connecting to the castle, but the sanctuary is entirely nature-made. Saphira added her own touch to the place as well, which makes raising the dragons here feel almost natural. This is the true Skulblaka Nidum."
Murtagh could feel something truly powerful yet calming about the place, as if the air itself held magical properties. He could feel Thorn's wonder, and awe, his mind silent. The Rider felt similar, unable to come up with words that truly fit how he felt about it. "This is…" he trailed off, appropriate words escaping him.
Eragon smiled, understanding. "Makes it feel like everything that we have worked so hard for was worth it in the long run, doesn't it?" he asked quietly. Murtagh nodded mutely, a bubbling feeling of uncontainable joy growing in his chest. For as much as they had suffered, all the dark moments and hopeless days, knowing that the dragons were not coming to an end, and that the Riders were returning under the careful guidance of Eragon and Saphira, Murtagh finally felt a sense of relief. He turned to glance at his brother when Eragon's hand fell upon his shoulder. The blue Rider smiled.
"Would you like to meet them?"
They remained in the sanctuary for the better part of the morning, carefully meeting the younger dragons. The green one perched upon the rock gave the situation little heed, and merely sniffed Murtagh's brow twice before returning to his sunbathing. The very young purple one was second to approach them, but only after the insistence of Eragon. She was visibly shaking, mewling in protest as Eragon led her over to Murtagh and Thorn. After a quick, reluctant greeting, she darted off to hide behind some bushes near the pond, eyeing them from a distance. The yellow male proved to be the most rebellious out of the three and refused to come, even when his surrogate mother called. He was by no means nervous of Thorn or Murtagh, there was no hesitation to connect their minds together on his part. He sent a barrage of images and feelings their way, connected by the cries and bellows he would let out as he swooped over them. It wasn't until Saphira let out a low, threatening growl that the yellow dragon finally touched ground, hanging his head lowly like a reprimanded child. He greeted them both very vocally, making even Thorn flinch away at the young dragon's unique chatter. What surprised Murtagh the most was the reoccurring image of Eragon upon Saphira's back that kept coming from the young dragon's mind. When Murtagh inquired upon it, Eragon merely shrugged.
"He is rather enamored by the idea of having a Rider. I'm honestly not quite sure why," he explained. They were both briefly distracted as a shimmer glinted off of them, the graceful form of Aranthi gliding into the sanctuary from an opening near the top. She circled the room a few times before coming in for a landing near the rock that the green one lounged upon. They greeted each other familiarly before the glittering white dragon turned to associate with Thorn and Saphira. "We actually have a fifth dragon hatchling," Eragon was saying. "But unlike the ones we house here, he ended up being more wild than any of us could imagine. He was only here for a short while before he flew off to live out in the fire mountains just off the North coastline. Occasionally, Saphira and I will fly out to check up on him, but he prefers his solitude." A small smile pulled at the Rider's lips. "The number of diverse dragons we have here is truly astounding. I feel so lucky to have the chance to see them all grow up before me."
Murtagh nodded, watching Aranthi and Thorn greet each other with a small moment of hesitation before settling to speak to each other in their unique dragon ways. He turned back to Eragon, catching the thoughtful, calculating look upon his brother's face. A twinge of fear shot through his stomach at the other Rider's expression. Eragon sighed lightly, lowering his crossed arms to adopt a stance that conveyed helpfulness.
"I know you have your secrets, Murtagh," he began slowly. "And I will not make you tell them if you do not wish to. But, even I know that you would not come here merely for the sake of visiting."
The red Rider avoided his gaze, staring out at the distant, glittering walls of the sanctuary. He knew this was going to come up eventually. Eragon was more than gracious about letting him approach the subject on his own, but he supposed he had waited long enough. Sighing lightly, and feeling Thorn's encouragement in the back of his head, he nodded his head once, decisively.
"Is there somewhere we can speak in private?" he asked quietly. It was silly of him to think that the information he was going to tell wouldn't be shared with Saphira, or any of the dragons around the area, but it comforted him a bit to be out of the cooly intelligent eyes that judged his very being. Eragon was understanding in his plight. He led them back down the tunnel they came in, letting the sanctuary disappear behind them.
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His eyes kept trailing back to the opening of the tunnel, despite the fact that Thorn knew Murtagh to be okay. He recognized that they had casted a silence spell over where they stood, and even thought Thorn could still feel Murtagh's mind in the back of his, his thoughts were silent to the dragon. Settling with a slightly uncomfortable feeling, Thorn laid his head down upon the soft grass below him. There was a soft rumble from the white dragon and a flurry of images entered the red dragon's head. One of his own worried expression, and the way his head would turn towards the entrance. There was confusion and a question.
Why do you worry? Saphira's voice gently asked. Thorn sighed lightly out his nose.
Habit, he responded. Everything bad that happens to us happens when he leaves me behind.
A picture of Murtagh walking away. A hatchling struggling to fly. Thorn growled lowly towards Aranthi at the insult. I am not.
Stop it, Saphira warned, leveling an eye at the white dragon. Aranthi merely turned away, seemingly ignoring her surrogate mother. Saphira turned to look at Thorn again. Continue, please.
What is there to say? Thorn asked. I cannot follow him everywhere, and he can take care of himself. That should be reason enough.
Saphira sighed through her nose. You are acting like a hatchling.
Thorn lifted his head indignantly. What is it with you two? I am NOT acting like a hatchling!
Then you are squandering your dragon pride for helplessness and pouting. Saphira leveled a serious eye his way. He glared up at her, but shifted his glare over at the white dragon when he heard her snickering laughter. He felt a tinge of embarrassment and was tempted to just fly off to one of the caves dotting the sanctuary's walls, but his bruised ego refused to let him run away and brood about it.
Saphira's low chuckle came to match her adopted daughter's. Please do not be angry. We are merely teasing you. There was a flurry of images suggesting that Aranthi was not. Saphira flicked her tail over the younger dragon's hide, pulling an undignified yelp from the white dragon's maw. Behave. Aranthi was embarrassed to be reprimanded by her mother and tucked her head away to hide her shame. Thorn let a low chuckle out, but clamped his maw shut at the look Saphira shot him. I understand how you may be feeling, Thorn. But you are notorious for acting out on your panic. Patience is a must during times like these. Especially the ones where your Rider is still safe.
Thorn sighed lightly. Yes. You are right. Perhaps I am too nervous.
Yet you are foolish for allowing such a dark and dangerous thing inside you and your Rider's body in your absence. Umaroth's deeply wise voice filled Thorn's mind, causing him to lower his head a little nervously. I do believe I warned you not to stray near the Barrows of Anghelm, young dragon.
Thorn tucked his head downward, shame pumping through his veins. We heeded your warning, Ebrithil. I will not make excuses. It was my foolish mistake to allow him to leave my side in a place so dangerous.
Umaroth's voice was kinder when he spoke again. Not all of us are capable of perfection. I hoped for your sake and your Riders that you would find peace rather than more hard struggles. Regardless of your foolishness, we will not abandon you in your time of need. That is even more dishonorable.
Whatever you may need, we will help you find it, Saphira said kindly. Thorn was humbled by their offers, feeling a little less defeated by the confrontation of the white Eldunari.
Thank you, he said humbly. Murtagh believes that we may find a solution to our problem at a place called the Biśud'dha Sprin. A dream came to him the night before suggesting that we can erase the curse within its waters. Do you know of it?
The name you speak is one of the old Urgal secrets, Umaroth replied thoughtfully. Urgal legends claim that if one drinks the spring water, any illness, any wound will be cured. Its a carefully guarded secret of the Urgals. I know not much about it aside from its name and legend.
Saphira was silent for a moment, listening to a voice Thorn couldn't hear. My Rider believes that the best way to find a place unknown by so many is to ask the source. Consulting the Urgals themselves may prove to be the best solution you have to find the spring.
The red dragon thought on that for a long moment, a knot of worry turning within his mind. If we were the ones to walk into the sacred Urgal grounds and receivers of the curse, why would Urgalfolk willingly let us in on their greatest secrets? There was a silence in which Saphira glanced over at Umaroth's Eldunari, awaiting his answer.
They will not tell you if you ask, he finally admitted. You will have to think of a way to win their respect, and therefore, their trust.
Thorn considered Umaroth's words, reacting when he heard the returning footsteps of his and Saphira's Riders. Thank you for your advice, Ebrithril. Saphira. I will keep it in the forefront of my mind.
Saphira nodded sagely at Thorn's gratitude, turning to greet her Rider warmly. Eragon smiled at Saphira's attention, but turned to look at Thorn instead.
"You are a truly magnificent dragon, Thorn," he said. "Murtagh is lucky to have you as his partner."
Feeling bashful at the compliment, the red dragon met his Rider's gaze, noting the calm, appreciative glint in his eyes. Thank you, Eragon. Your words are most kind. Eragon smiled, turning towards his dragon to give the other Rider time with his dragon.
You and I both know he is not just being kind, Murtagh's voice said. They shared a meaningful glance, but the Rider broke the gaze, a tendril of worry floating through their link. I know you may not want to hear this… but I think it's time for us to leave. We can take our time flying back, but… I feel like its time.
Thorn knew that his rider was itching to leave; all the attention focused on him was making both of them wary. And while he thought he would feel a little regretful when he left the budding members of his kind, Thorn agreed with him easily. There was a time and place for everything, and this sort of peace would have to wait a while. The sanctuary here was a safe one, and he had no doubts that the hatchlings here would be safe under the protective watch of Saphira and her Rider. A part of him wanted to stay, but his heart was where his Rider was. He knew he would follow Murtagh to the ends of the World without a second thought. The elation in his belly told him it was an obligation born of love rather than duty.
I appreciate the thought, brother, Murtagh said softly through their link. But I may not always be the best lead to follow.
Foolish or not, I will still follow you, Thorn admitted. Just say the word.
Murtagh sighed lightly in reluctant acceptance, reaching up to scratch the scales on Thorn's chin. The red dragon hummed lightly, pushing his nose against the Rider's chest in a half-dragon hug.
I'm sorry to do this to you again, Thorn, Murtagh murmured miserably. Thorn rolled his big ruby eyes, nudging his Rider none too lightly in the chest.
The day you sprout wings and can fly the both of us back to the capitol will be the day that I let you rule how I think. The dragon snorted. You would look ridiculous with wings.
Murtagh rolled his eyes. What are you trying to get at?
You need me, Thorn stated. And I chose to be here. This is my happiness, so stop mulling over pointless worries.
Murtagh chuckled a bit, leaning back to show a wide grin. If that was what you were trying to say, your tact is still tactless. Thorn huffed but accepted the light-hearted insult. Thorn mulled over the idea of feeling the wind back under his wings as the leagues rushed away beneath them. There was a brief moment in which dragon and Rider shared the same thought, a distant and mysterious spring that promised so much.
Tonight? Thorn inquired. Murtagh's agreement was nearly palpable.
Tonight.
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A/N: I apologize for the ridiculously short and really lame chapter. ; _ ; I promise the next one will be more fulfilling with the return of our most favored pairing. The wait won't be as extreme either, that much I can guarantee. I hope you liked what little was there… for all its worth.
On another note, I've uploaded a picture of Aranthi on my DeviantArt, so give it a look if you'd like: http : / / firexenigma(dot)deviantart(dot)com / art /Pomnuria-Hjarta-er-medh-Ono-Aranthi-29295084