Pale Hope
By Namine3419
Chapter Twenty-one: A Fell Wind
Reviewers: Oh my, I'm sooo sorry for the wait. You would not believe the week I've had, but I'm better now, so I can write again! This chapter is much longer than the previous two, and I went back and made sure to make corrections, so there shouldn't be a problem there.
Thank you for all your reviews, and I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as the rest. I'm going to start working on 22 right now, so it'll be up soon! Enjoy!
Elaina, her legs dangling over the side of the ship, watched as the gentle breeze swayed back and forth across the ocean's waters. Sea gulls cried angrily as sailors who sat along the sails shooed them away when they flew to close to the open sail. Strange creatures of the ocean jumped out from the water's depths, racing the gigantic ship to their destination. The reflection of Thorn's scales were purple beneath the endless blue, Saphira was pratically invisible. She laughed as the red dragon's head emerged from the water, spraying the clear liquid on a few unfortunate sailors.
"Beautiful morning, isn't it?" Elaina nodded as Katrina leaned against the banister, her hair caught in the wind. She sighed, "I wonder how much longer we'll be on this thing?"
"Who knows," Elaina said, shrugging, "I just hope we don't run into any trouble."
"Don't say that!" Katrina cried, smiling, "You'll jinx us, you know."
She said nothing, but continued to watch the endless horizon of enternal blue. An overwhelming feeling of being lost consumed her mind, and her heart dearly longed to look upon the green fields of Alagesia once more. The last bits of land that the crew had laid eyes on were the few specks of islands that lined the seafront of the far away country, so far that nothing but mountain peaks were visible.
Night fell, the sky covered in the blanket of black clouds, suffocating the ship in an inescapable darkness. A chill fell upon the decks, an ominous air floating on the wind. Elaina said nothing to anyone, and scarcely took her eyes off of the western side. Something isn't right, it's too quiet.
"Skimmers! Five of them, on the starboard side!" A Surdian soldier, one who had volunteered to guard Eragon and Roran, shouted from the Crow's Nest. The ship burst into life. The door to the lower decks blew open, crashing against the side of the ship with a resounding boom. Man after man came pouring out of its holds, their arms full with spears, arrows, axes, and swords. Eragon, Roran, and Murtagh rushed to the mast, their weapons at the ready.
Jeod, his shadow casted long across the length of the ship, looked at the men with a fierce flame in his eye, "Alright men, get to your posts! If it's a fight they want, it's a fight they'll get!" The men cheered, and he rushed behind the steering wheel and turned to the left sharply.
It didn't take long for Elaina to see the black and red sails of Galbatorix's Skimmers. They slowly accended from the horizon, their sails looking like the terrible fins of a stalking shark. She jumped as a leathered hand fell on her shoulder. Murtagh's face was grim, his eyes staring off into the distance, "Get below deck. I don't want you to get hurt."
"I'm not going any--!"
"Go, now!" He barked, rushing towards the foremast. Men were either scrampling up it's pole or sliding down it, daggers in hand and mouth. The wind grew fiercer, and a thunderclap sounded in the distance. A twisted smile spread across his lips, So, we fight our own men now?
I don't mind, Thorn said, his head piercing through the water's surface, I was getting bored of fish anyway.
Stay below the water until I tell you to come out, alright? He frowned, trying to see the ships better, they may have ballista onboard.
I'm not that stupid. You're the one that needs to be careful.
For once, just listen to me, alright? He sighed, shaking his head, Tell Saphira the same thing, will you? I don't think Eragon knows what they are.
Amusement reflected in Thorn's words, Yes, a Dragon Rider without the knowledge of dragon killing tools.
Just tell her, Murtagh ran to the bow, Zar'roc shinning in the lantern light. Light footfalls fell behind him, and a he turned with a tired smile on his face, "Lian, you seem well."
"Sorry I haven't said hello to you yet," he smiled widely, "I've been catching up." Before Murtagh could ask, Lian raised his hand, "This isn't the time for explainations, Rider, there is a battle before us!" He drew two blades, to small to be swords but longer than daggers. The light caught in his eyes, giving him a dangerous glint, "It's time to show you what I can do." Murtagh nodded and said no more, watching as the Skimmers drew closer and closer.
Emperial Skimmer, Below Deck
Sir Allister frowned as he twisted his dagger deeper and deeper into the wood of his table. It didn't take them long to recieve the information of Murtagh's movement to Ellesmera; they have spies all throughout the Varden. A hard expression lay on the old man's face as he tossed and turned his endless thoughts inside his head. I've known the boy since he was a babe, he grimaced, walking towards his door. With a sigh, he asked, "Tornac, my brother, what would you have done?"
A small laugh escaped his lips; his brother would have said no. Ever since the boy was small, Tornac had been there for him. At times, he even refered to Murtagh as "son", something that sent a jolt of fear in Allister's heart. There was nothing wrong with the boy, on the surface, but it was rumored that he was cursed. Everything the boy held dear seemed to disappear or die, never to be seen again. Many a time the brothers would fight over the subject of being so close to the boy. Yet Tornac listened to none of it, and instead embraced the child all the more. He played games with him, taught him the way of the sword, stayed by him when he was ill, and even scolded him when he'd done something wrong.
And now he was dead. Deep down, Allister had hated Murtagh for it, and blamed the boy for the death of his brother. But now, knowing what and why Murtagh was serving the the king, he only felt pity for the him. A defiant glare hardened the seasoned soldier's face all the more, I have been given my orders. He will arrive back at the palace; dead or alive. He opened the doors, a single raindrop falling from the sky.
Dragon Wing, Port Side
Roran paced restlessly along the deck, the cool rain falling from the sky. He watched as men moved the gigantic iron crossbows from one side of the boat to the other, the wheels leaving a small indent as they carried their heavy burden. Garrow, his talons clicking on the wooden floor, leaped up and rested on the siding of the ship. Violet eyes peered out into the distance, and he hissed, This is bad, isn't it?
Not really, but I don't want you fighting, he placed a protective hand on his scaly friend, you are still to young.
I know, the young dragon leaped down with a reluctant air, but soon, you and I shall fight as Eragon and his brother does! Just wait, Roran! Saphira has told me so much about the master that awaits us, smoke escaped his nostrils as he leaped excitedly into the air, it will be marvelous!
I'm sure it will, he said, laughing, but first we have to live through this night.
Slowly but surely, the Skimmers came into full view. The reflection of the soldiers' armor shone across the dark waters as the countless men moved about their decks. It was a similar sight on the Dragon Wing, as soldier and sailor alike rushed from post to post, from bow to stern, carrying messages and weapons to whomever they were instructed to. Eragon stood next to Jeod, his bow strung and ready for battle. His heart quickened with a new sort of excitment as rain glued his hair to his forehead. Saphira?
Yes, Eragon? The blue dragon was completely invisible beneath the ocean waters as she swam next to the ship.
He frowned, squinting against the rain, I have an idea, but it might be slightly dangerous.
Anything is better then waiting around for the fight, she broke the surface, sending small waves rippling around and crashing into the ship.
Eragon met her by the side, I was thinking, since you're so well hidden, that you could swim underneath their ships and tear open their undersides. That way, much of the fighting could be avoided.
She looked at the oncoming ships, then back at him. A fanged smirk flashed across her face, I'll be back soon. With a large splash she disappaered beneath the water, a deadly torpedo of flesh and bone.
Jeod watched, a bemused look on his face, "What is she doing?"
"You'll see."
"No, we won't," he turned and faced the ship. Taking a deep breath, the old man bellowed, "Alright, you scalawags! Turn off the lanterns!" He laughed, placing a hand on Eragon's shoulder, "Let them fight us in the dark, if they can even find us."
Emperial Skimmer, Stern
Allister cursed as the Dragon Wing disappeared from sight. Shielding himself from a blast of wind, he shouted, "Keep steady, men! The cowards won't escape us that easily!" The wind howled, rain pounding on the hard wooden ships. Thunder rumbled in the distance, but there was no lightening to be seen. He cursed again, slamming his hand against the siding of the boat.
Suddenly, screams from the boat at the end shattered the storm's melody. Flames erupted as the ship began to sink into the merciless ocean, her men scrambling in vain to the mainmast for safety. Not far behind, another began the same act, her black sail disappearing beneath the cold waters. From the three remaining ships, cries of fear and ordering commanders traveled across from boat to boat, utter chaos shattering the once calm assult.
"What's happening?!" Allister ran down the length of the ship, reaching the starboard side. His second in command was staring down at the water, his eyes almost closed from his extreme examination.
The man rose, his face white as a ghost's, "It's a sea serpent, or some fearful beast!" He grabbed Allister by the arms, shaking him wildly, "We're doomed!"
Allister smacked him, shouting, "Are you a fool?! It's one of those blasted dragons! Ready the ballista!"
The second in command nodded, shouting, "Ready the ballista!" It echoed, like a chain reaction, as the messege carried over to the remaining ships. Metal scratched the well polished wood as the gigantic weapons were dragged from one postion to the other. Soon both sides of every ship was a dangerous fang ready to bite into the beast that preyed on their allies.
One of the gigantic crossbows fired, sending its deadly missle into the deep. Suddenly the water parted, and out shot a majestic blue dragon. The beast roared in defiance, its scales shinning in the dim lantern light. Allister punched the air, "Fire!" The weapons were aimed skyward, and with a loud twang the giant arrows shot into the sky. The dragon roared once more, shooting deadly flames at the Skimmers before raising higher.
To his left Allister heard another series of sickening cracks, and watched in horror and frustration as another one of their Skimmers met its end. He cursed, watching as a red glimmer shot underneath the water. "Thorn, you dirty, traitorous lizard!" Slow wingbeats rose before him, and soon he met cold, yellow eyes. Sir Allister, closing his own, was ready to face his death as the dragon drew in his breath. . .
Dragon Wing, Bow
Thorn, stop it! Murtagh cried, watching everything through the dragon's eyes. He watched in horror as his friend was about to roast the old man.
He's our enemy, Murtagh! Shouted Thorn, his fury overpowering their link, You seem to have trouble deciphering who to trust or not!
Not him! He's not our enemy! Without noticing, Murtagh was leaning over the bow, dangerously close to plumetting into the cold waters. Come back! You're to easy to see out there; we can see your scales from here! Thorn didn't answer, and Murtagh felt himself being blocked from the dragon's mind. His feet slammed back onto the deck, "Damn him!"
"What's wrong? Why isn't he attacking them?" Lian asked, staring out at their enemy.
"Where's Eragon?"
"Why?"
"Just tell me!" Murtagh shouted, grabbing Lian by the shoulders.
"Alright, alright! He's at the steering column next to Jeod--" He didn't have a chance to finish, for Murtagh bolted down the deck, swaying along with the rocking ship.
He ran, his heart feeling as though it would give way from its furious beating. In the dark it was easy to trip over a loose rope or barrel, and even a sailor or two, yet Murtagh pushed forward, leaping over any obsticle he could barely make out. Soon he could feel the stairs to the stern, and he took two at a time to reach the top. Eragon looked at him curiously, an eyebrow raised. Doubled over, Murtagh huffed, "Tell. . . tell Saphira to. . ."
"To what?" He stopped, staring in horror as a deafening cry traveled across the darkness. Both Eragon and Murtagh watched as a large form fell from the sky in the distance. "No. . ."
"Thorn!" Murtagh cried, staring in horror as his dragon fell into the water, a large projectile lodged in his right wing. Unbareable pain seared his shoulder, and if not for Eragon's hand he would have fallen on his knees.
Eragon reached for Saphira, urgency and fear exploding across their link, Get back here! Can you carry Thorn?
We'll be seen, but yes, a feeling of guilt slightly passed across Eragon's mind, and an image of Thorn shooting up higher to recieve a dart that would have been Saphira's flashed before his mind. Her words were worried, I'll hurry.
He nodded, then faced Murtagh, "Saphira is bringing him back, but they'll be able to follow his blood here."
"Let them come," his voice was dark, a fearsome rage lacing every word, "they will pay for every drop of blood that falls from my dragon's body."
Soon the dragon's were next to the portside of the ship, the smell of blood rich on the water. Murtagh leaped from the side, a safety rope fastened around his waist. The water battered his face and stung his eyes, and froze him down to the bone. Fighting the current, he swam to his injured friend, trying to find the wound. Weakly, Thorn's thoughts traced his mind, It's under the water. The salt stings it.
Not for much longer, taking a breath, Murtagh dove underneath the beast, swimming in the dragon's own blood. Unable to see, he found his way by tracing his fingers along the rough, slick scales of Thorn's hide, until he reached the wound. The dart had been removed, by Saphira or the ocean he couldn't tell, but there was a wound the size of his fist right where the wing met Thorn's shoulders. Reaching for the magic, Murtagh healed his friend with a few additional words to keep the salty water out of the healing wound. A small air bubble exploded as a bright light surrounded the hole, the tissue slowly closing in. As the magic finished, Thorn jolted out of the water, sending an angry roar at the remaining Skimmers.
Running out of air, Murtagh turned quickly to swim to the surface. His head bobbed above the water, and he began to tug on the safety line. However, as the men began to pull him up, a large and violent wave crashed into the ship, slamming him against the side. The wind escaped his lungs with an instant woosh, his body cold and shaking. He saw dots, and didn't notice the rope gently unraveling around his waist. Instantly he began to plummett back into the water, when Thorn swooped down and caught him on his back. He coughed, leaning against Thorn's warm scales, Thanks for that.
We'll call it even.
Murtagh's feet landed on the deck, still dazed from the slam; he heard the shouts of the other soldiers. Both Skimmers were in clear view, every man visible in the dark night. He cursed, rushing back to his post. He was passing the door to the lower decks when he heard the order to fire from the other ships. In slow motion he watched as arrow after arrow flew across the sky, slowly falling to greet their targets with a deadly bite. He watched as a single arrow zoomed towards him, inches evaporating as it grew closer.
"Look out!" A voice cried, and Murtagh felt tiny hands pushing him to the floor.
The air grew quiet, and time seemed to stop as Murtagh watched Elaina falling, an arrow lodged in her chest on the right side. With inhuman speed he caught the girl before she landed on the harsh floor, staring at her in shock. Shakey hands brushed across her smooth face, "Elaina. . .no . . .!" Tears streamed from his eyes, "No!" He was to exhausted from shock, magic, and injury to help her, and in the dark and confusion he couldn't find Eragon.
Elaina smiled weakly, her breath coming in short gasps, "It's, not so. . .bad. . ." She lifted a pale hand and carressed his cheek, "I'll. . . I'll be . . ."
"Don't talk; I'm going to help you!" He cursed as he noticed the type of arrow that had pierced her. The thick shaft and goose feathering told him that if he simply pulled the arrow out, it would do more damage than if it had gone all the way through. He tried to fake a smile, but failed as it was drowned by tears and rainfall, "I'm going to have to push it through. This," he paused, his voice failing, "this is going to hurt, very badly."
She gripped his hand tightly and nodded, "I'm ready."
Snapping off the fletching, Murtagh began to push the arrow further into Elaina, hating himself for hurting her more. She cried out, feeling the arrow move into her inch by inch. Intense pain exploded through her shoulder as the arrowhead emerged from her body, an inch of the shaft free from the bloody hole. She whimpered as Murtagh quickly grabbed the wood and pulled the rest of the arrow through her. She laughed, her voice faint, "T-that wasn't. . . wasn't so bad." She shuddered, then passed out in his arms.