The Final Countdown
24:00
Only two beings witnessed Murtagh slip through the Varden camp, his escape was as quiet as the night itself. Roran's eyes were still trained in his direction, "You truly believe we can trust him?" Roran whispered to Nasuada. "Is this even going to work?"
"Do we have a choice?" Nasuada whispered back, her eyes still looking out into the foggy horizon where the only man who would ever hold her heart disappeared into.
Eragon P.O.V.
'Why am I here? Show me!' Eragon demanded, eagerly scanned the dark horizon of the dream realm he was currently trying to talk to.
A light appeared in the distance, and he took off running with out hesitation. For miles and miles he sprinted, hungry for an explanation for his existence in the realm. The light drew him in like a moth to a fire. It was a soft glow that only seemed to push farther away as Eragon came closer.
The only time his mind was aware of his surroundings was when he passed a dead shrub, the same one he had seen Arya at in his dream.…Or reality, he mused dryly. This place was as real as the tent he was sleeping in. Though the problem was just that; Eragon was currently sleeping in the temporary camp of the Elves, not running through some barren land.
The light was close now, so close. He had been running for hours by the time he could see the source of the light.
It was a cave. Eragon gasped, stopping within five feet of the monstrous cave. It was shut, closed up by rock, yet easily recognizable as a cave. He knew what this was, the only possible thing it could be.
The Vault of Souls.
"Eragon", he whispered. Nothing happened. With a frown his said his name louder, "Eragon".
Why wasn't it opening? The Werecat said, 'speak your name to the Vault of Souls and it will open.'
"Eragon!" He yelled, panicking.
Eragon! Saphira roared above him.
Eragon rolled out of his covers with a start, rudely brought back to reality by his other half. Do not shut me out! How many times must I go over this? Angry smoke emitted from her nostrils directly into his own, causing him to snort and cough.
Why have you woken me? He snapped right back. He had been so close, maybe if he said his name louder, or tried another phrase along with his name... maybe.
Eragon's thoughts were whirling: A cave, that may possibly be the Vault of Souls, was located in a mysterious realm that Eragon seemed to have no control over. He couldn't close his eyes and transport himself there, it was the will of the realm itself, so it seemed.
"You were having a fit, Shadeslayer." Islanzadi said from behind the angry couple. Eragon immediately turned and touched his fingers to his lips, "your Majesty, my apologies for whatever disturbance I have caused."
Oh, you suck- Saphira began to snarl in his mind, Eragon blocked her out, "How may I be of assistance?" Eragon became hyper aware of his lack of proper clothing, loose trousers and no shirt.
If this happened to bother the Queen, she gave no sign. "We ride out as the sun sets. Everything is in motion, we just received word from the Dwarves: they await our action." Islanzadi's tone was confusing Eragon, she sounded distracted and distant, giving him a peculiar look. "If you would meet my council in my own quarters?"
Eragon bowed, not inquiring on the Queen's odd behavior, waiting for her to leave the room. With a slight gasp he was startled by the Queen's quick step towards him, he looked down to see her white nails embedded into his bare skin, "Eragon, what I am about to tell you is for you and you alone. Do you understand?" Islanzadi whispered urgently. Eragon stepped away from her tight grasp cautiously, "Of course, your Majesty."
Islanzadi cut straight to the point, "I had spies who returned in the dead of night last eve."
Saphira shared a look with Eragon.
"Were going to lose, Eragon." Her voice was low, afraid to be overheard. "My spies reported no less than 60,000 brute soldiers from within the gates of Uru Baen. Even more have been reported from the inside."
Islanzadi's voice shook as she pulled a scroll out from beneath her dress robes. "I've received numbers from our force, "6,000 axes from the Dwarves, 4,500 swords from the Varden. The Elves have little over 1,500 bows accounted for, yet we make up for it in skill. That's 12,000 warriors, Eragon. "
Eragon felt his plummet into his stomach, he steadied himself courtesy of Saphira. 12,000 to over 60,000... unheard of.
"I know what you keep hidden within your mind, I know this place you dream of." Islanzadi once again stepped closer and whispered, "you will find your answers from a Werecat, which I remember hearing you have befriended. Go now, Eragon. For this is the only hope we have. With out the help of whatever lies within the Vault of Souls, we will all be marching to our demise. Tell no one of this, not even Arya." She turned to leave but stopped herself, "Be there at Uru Baen when the Elves attack as soon as the first half of the sun shows itself. As soon as it hits the mid line – we attack."
She was gone as quickly as she had appeared.
22:00
Eragon was packing as fast as possible. Saphira was launching their items to him as fast as he could shove them into his pack. Angela resides with the Varden and the Werecat is always with her, Saphira thought with a sigh, an easy two days fly from here, nonstop.
Well, we are going to make it half a day, Eragon tightened his saddle bags to the quick, traveling saddle. He readied himself to mount when his mind was bombarded with feeling: hurt, betrayal, disappointment and worry. With a gasp he turned around, "Arya," his voice was desperate.
Arya was grounded in one place, a bundle of freshly washed clothes in her arms. Her face was an open book... Eragon was in a lot of trouble. "Where could you possibly be going the day before the biggest battle in history?" Arya's word sliced into him.
"Arya, please, I'm doing this for every one's good."
"How is deserting us, deserting me, doing any good?" Arya snapped.
Eragon felt the clock ticking, he didn't have time to explain the secret he shared with Islanzadi. "Trust me, you have to trust me."
Arya took a step backwards, like he had slapped her, "You won't tell me?" Her usually even voice was thick with rage.
"I can't, Arya, I just can't." Eragon tried to step closer but Arya's glare had him backtracking.
"You and your trust can just leave then." Arya turned on her heel to walk away.
Eragon didn't know what to do, he was paralyzed, I love you, He spoke into her mind, feeding her his emotion.
She stopped in her tracks, her mind shut like an iron door, blasting Eragon's mental self flat on his ass. "Love is nothing without trust." With that she stormed away.
19:00
Eragon and Saphira were both still fuming three hours later. Saphira was pumping her wings hard and luckily the wind was with them, easing her work load. The nerve, Saphira repeated for the millionth time since they took off.
Eragon rested his cheek against the hot scales on Saphira's neck and sighed; all he was trying to do was save everyone's lives, and he got thrown on his backside by the one person who was making this all worth it.
And me. Saphira pipped up, I make it worth it, too.
You make it possible.
Do you truly believe that cave you saw was the Vault of Souls? Saphira switched the topic.
Yes, now that Islanzadi mentioned it, there is no doubt in my mind. The problem is getting into it, it's like I finally got close enough to touch it and I woke up.
You woke up because I told you to.
It was more than that, the cave was shut, yet a light glowed from within it. Eragon sighed, I know, 'speak your name to the Vault of Souls and it will open.' And I did speak my name, I yelled my name, yet it stayed shut.
Saphira snorted fire in frustration, The Werecat must have made a mistake.
Somehow, Eragon didn't think so. Saphira, He began his debate warily, if Eragon was my True Name, then how come I don't react like Sloan did whenever someone calls me? Why do I not twitch, or become controlled? If the Shade said my name, like he did, I should be dead right now. He would have had complete control over me.
Saphira was silent for a long while, maybe it's because you have been called by your True Name your entire life. Maybe you have become immune to its physical reactions.
Eragon doubted this. He had seen the way Sloan reacted when he spoke Sloan's True Name, that wasn't something that grew callous.
The more Eragon thought about the Vaults lack of response to his name... the more he doubted Eragon was his True Name. It was unnerving and disappointing.
He had so much to do, in such a short amount of time. Unfortunately, the world depended on his actions. Which in Eragon's point of view, is never a good thing.
He hated it when Alagaesia depended on him.
18:32
Orik's P.O.V.
I knew, when I accepted my inheritance as King that this day would come. Eragon, my brother in ritual and clan, has our fate in his hands. I will assist him in numbers and militia. He was there for us and now I will return the favor.
I hear the rumors, the scorn of my people against my decision to go to war. It is amusing for me to hear them whisper their doubts in the tavern, for a drunk Dwarf is never quiet. They say i'm Warmongering and a 'disturber of the peace'.
Instead of rethinking my decision, their scorn only drives me forward. Every king has his moment, a moment where he proves himself to his people. Tomorrow is not only my moment, but Orin and Nasuada's as well. We are three young adults who have been handed over leadership, defying the suspicions of our people.
Tomorrow, I will either become the greatest king my clan has ever seen in history, or die fighting for every drunk and doubtful Dwarf in this colony.
17:00
Rhune's P.O.V.
I've fought many battles, some petty, most serious; all bloody, all gory.
All the same.
Maybe this will alter our fate? Perhaps it will alter the enemy's?
I have been working day and night in this makeshift forge, under command of the Queen. I'm suffering from the lack of my past spoils: Fir wood instead of Alder. Iron hammers instead of my granite and moon rock. My age is catching up with me already. I feel my very spine tightening.
Elves are immortal, not age proof so it seems.
The only difference this war could offer would be my demise.
My spine cracked as I straightened from my tedious work.
I would welcome whatever end.
16:00
Eragon's P.O.V.
Eragon grinned, Saphira was making record time. They had already crossed the halfway point between the Varden's camp and the Elves, yet it had only been six hours since they departed. Saphira, love, when we reach the Varden camp all you have to worry about is sleeping, leave the rest to me. Eragon transferred some of his energy into his tiring Dragon.
Her weariness was evident, I might take you up on your offer.
I believe we are almost there, Eragon used his raptor vision and spotted smoke several miles off, in fact we are here.
Saphira grunted as she hit the ground, immediately servants were helping the sweaty Eragon off of his steaming Dragon, stripping his belonging's off the saddle. Then taking the saddle off Saphira, where she promptly collapsed. Eragon laid a shaking hand on her and transferred more of his energy into her.
Stop, stop, you need to save all the energy you can possibly save. I'll be fine. She sent him away.
Instead of greeting Eragon with a hug, Roran saw the urgency in Eragon's eyes. "What can I do?" Roran asked immediately.
"I need Angela the witch."
Roran blinked, surprised yet unsurprised at Eragon's random behavior and request. He always had been a peculiar fellow, he had learned to expect no less. Roran escorted the weary Eragon to a tent far off from the others, Eragon could already smell the herbs and phantom scents.
"Thank you, brother." Eragon hugged him tightly before entering the smoky tent. Angela sat on a two legged stool stirring what looked awfully like nightshade in a boiling pot of water. "Eragon," She greeted, not taking her eyes off her concoction, "Good to see you before the big day."
"I need the Werecat." Eragon said.
Angela cursed as her startled flinch caused some of the tainted water to spill over, "And why would you want to do that?"
"I have questions, he has answers."
Angela grinned, "Perfect. Solembum!" She called over her shoulder. The sleek Werecat emerged from a pile of steaming rags.
There is only one reason why you would come here so late on the eve of battle. Solembum's voice was like a tingling sensation in his mind.
You know why I am here, and I am begging for answers. Why won't the Vault open for my True Name? You said it would.
I suggested it, Solembum hopped up on a shelf full of glass viles, I suppose you want me to tell you what the Vault is?
Please, Eragon breathed, relieved that the Werecat was cooperating.
The Vault of Souls holds the Souls of all deceased Dragon's, you and your Elvin friends call the Eldunari.
That's impossible, Eragon countered, Galbatorix has all the Eldunari besides Glaedr's, which I have.
They told me you were clever, son of Brom. A soul has never been a physical form. What Galbatorix has, what you have, is the only connection we in the living world have with the souls. They still exist in the spiritual world. The cat flicked his tail with annoyance.
So you knew that Brom was my father, too? Was everyone in on the secret besides me? Eragon knew he was off topic, but couldn't help himself. Eragon was still sore about being kept in the dark about his parentage.
Anyone who happened to exist back in those days couldn't help but notice the undercover relationship. Brom was blinded by his feelings for Serena, he couldn't foresee the consequences of his actions. It amuses me to no end, the irony of his later occupation, a wise man. Solembum had both of his almond shaped eyes on Eragon, he thought he knew the truth of your name? Is that right?
You are reading my mind? Eragon searched for any sign of the Werecat's presence within his mental shield, there was no trace.
Brom may have been clever and wise in your eyes, but he was blind to many things. Whatever led that Rider to believe your name is your common name is beyond me. Solombum seemed very agitated. Why where you naive enough to believe something so... outrageous?
I trusted Brom completely. He has never led me astray. Eragon sounded like a broken record even to his own ears. He was beginning to doubt what Saphira had relayed to him from Brom.
Yes, yes, we all trust. Solembum voice snapped like his tail, but that doesn't mean we allow ourselves to be blinded by it. Time is running out. The only way to defeat the Evil King is to request the souls of the Dragons assistance. Figure out your name and then come back to me and I will transport you to the entrance of the Vault of Souls.
How can you do that? How am I supposed to figure out my name? Eragon cried in outrage. The Cat gave him a look that had him backing out of the room. With a second thought he walked back in, "Angela, I need your help."
"Indeed."
"Can you please help me discover my True Name?" Eragon knew it was too much to ask. He had to try.
Angela set her stirring stick down, "It's not my place."
"This is your place. If I don't find out my name we will all die."
"Certainly." She eye Solembum as he sauntered out of the room. "Since obviously you don't care about self discovery what so ever..." She patted the stool next to her, "Have a seat."
Eragon did so, half expecting her to splash him with her poisoned water.
"The knuckle bones of a dragon do more than tell your future." Angela sighed warily, looking somewhat her true age for once, "I remember Serena's fortune as clearly as I remember yours, crystal clear. I predicted she would bear two son's: one, a bastard child, the other was the son of a monster. The eldest son, I predicted, would succumb completely to darkness in the end." Angela shrugged.
Eragon shook his head, "I still believe Murtagh can change, he's under oath. He's not willingly doing what he is."
"Can you change the future?" Angela was looking straight into his eyes. Enough so that it rendered Eragon temporarily speechless and scrambling for words. "I don't know." He said, dumbly.
Angela whacked him quickly with her stirring stick, so hard he saw stars. "What in the seven Dwarf hells was that for?" He snapped angrily, rubbing his temple.
Angela said, "Could you have changed that? Could you have prevented it from happening?"
Eragon gritted his teeth, "I could if I would have seen it coming first..." As soon as the words left his mouth Eragon had an epiphany.
Angela looked him straight in the eye, "In two seconds, I'm going to hit you."
Eragon's hand grabbed the stick as fast as lightening. He changed the future as it became the present.
Angela had already done the predicting, Eragon knew what was coming and he could try to change it. Angela smiled, clearly pleased with herself. She moved on to the next lesson.
"I predicted only one more thing for your pregnant mother the day she came in my shop. She asked me about her son's True Names, and I saw only one clearly, Murtagh's true name. The other one, yours, I could only guess at. I wasn't as experienced then as I was now." Angela clenched her fists, "If I saw then what I see now in the Dragon bones, Eragon, you would have had quite a different life. You would have been brought up like an Elvin child, trained like a Rider for years until you even reached Saphira's egg. My sight then was dull, indeed."
"What do you think my True Name is?"
"I think the question that you should ask first is what was Murtagh's True Name, that might answer your question." Angela suggested quietly, then sniffed as Eragon failed to ask her, "His True Name is Dark, Eragon. It is the most plain, and boring True Name I have ever discovered. Since you're his brother, only one option makes the most sense. Only one symbol did I see on the day your mother came to me."
"Light," Eragon sighed... "God above, my True name is light." He spoke in common tongue, he was afraid of speaking his own name.
"It's not as if someone who is in a conversation and happens upon the word 'light' will have complete control over you. Its when someone addresses you and commands in the ancient language, 'light'. Luckily, for you and Murtagh, all dragon riders have more than one name, unlike us poor common folk."
"The name of my sword," Eragon put his head in his hands, it had been so simple as 'light'? "So my True Name is Fire Light?" Eragon laughed at the ridiculous Name.
Angela gave him a pitying look, "Must I explain everything? Yes, Brisingr means 'Fire' in the common conversation. But the way you use it, the way your sword uses the term, it means 'Bringer of Fire'."
Eragon was confused, "My own name is Light, am I supposed to combine the two?"
Angela gave him a smile, "I've already done that. It was easy once I thought about it. Eragon, Shadeslayer, Shur'tugal, you are The Bringer of Fire and Light. The Light in the Dark."
Eragon felt numb.
Well that was so much better than just Eragon. Saphira moaned from her heap nearly a half mile away.
15:00
"I've never, ever, been more insulted in my life!" Nasuada steamed, standing in front of Eragon at her full 5'10" of dark beauty. "You have been here for over an hour and you've yet to come see me?"
Eragon couldn't help but smile, Nasuada's anger melted and she embraced Eragon, who hugged her back. "I praise the gods that you are here, Eragon. I've so much to tell you."
They broke apart, still smiling.
"Come with me." She led him to what Eragon believed was her private tent. It contained her bed, desk, and a table. "Sit." She followed her own instructions, which Eragon hastily copied. "Is there any one listening?" She asked.
Eragon immediately responded, "No. The closest guard is approximately ten feet away." He always knew who was around him.
"I had an unexpected visitor last night." She murmured, picking at her fingernails, "Your brother, Eragon. He came into this tent just last night."
Eragon's jaw dropped, "He just... walked in?" The fact that Murtagh could walk through the Varden camp without being noticed was an embarassment.
"Who was on guard?" He questioned, anger began bubbling in his chest. It was Lord-Willing that Nasuada was even alive... she was alive... Why was she alive?
"What did he want?" Eragon was almost scared to ask.
"He was sent to kill me, Eragon." Nasuada met his eyes, "It turned out quite different."
"Why didn't he?" Realization was beginning to draw back and smack Eragon in the face, something that he had over looked long ago when Murtagh was locked in a cell. How sweetly he had talked of Nasuada; how she gushed over seeing him.
"I love him, Eragon." Nasuada's voice was barely audible, though her eyes were defiant and clear, "And he loves me. He wept before me and revealed his inner turmoil. Galbatorix is destroying him. Murtagh wants to change so badly, he wants to break out of Galbatorix's clutches."
Eragon put his head in his hands, "I had no idea. Nasuada, tell me you have him in holding somewhere here."
"We let him go."
"We?"
"Roran and I talked with Murtagh. We have... come up with something that may shift the fate of this looming battle for the better." Nasuada saw Eragon's betrayed expression. "I beg you, keep an open mind."
"You are blinded by love." Eragon snapped, startling her. "Why else would you make a deal with a sworn enemy?"
"Would you have made such a claim if I hadn't breathed a word of my feelings?" Nasuada retaliated.
"No, no I wouldn't have."
"Eragon Garrowson, I would never have expected you of all people to be so shallow." This hurt Eragon more than Nasuada realized. She continued, "We are not in a position to let help just walk away, I'm sure you'd agree?"
"Yes." Eragon sighed.
"Murtagh is on our side, do you understand?"
"Yes." No, not really. Eragon and Saphira said to each other in unison.
"You will do everything I tell you to do in order to help Murtagh complete his mission."
"Yes."
"Good. Now," She clapped her hands, "Down to business."
Eragon hung his head like a beaten dog. This all felt entirely wrong.
13:00
Eragon was somewhat oddly comforted by the time he returned to the heap of blue scales in the middle of the courtyard, which was Saphira. Hello, Everything. Eragon sat down heavily beside her.
My bones ache, she groaned, shaking the earth beneath Eragon. You'll recover, Eragon wished grimly.
In an hour? Saphira huffed, the sun has nearly set, little one. It's time to leave.
Don't I know it. Eragon leaned against her warm scales and fell asleep.
"Oh, if only I had my canvas! This would make an extraordinary portrait!" Nasuada's maid awakened both Dragon and Rider from their deep sleep. They both were startled to find an audience before them, all silly faced.
Away from me, humans. Saphira grumpily projected to everyone within sight. Nasuada stepped forward, "Gear up and saddle up, we move out in minutes."
Saphira and Eragon broke a record... for the slowest tack up in the history of Alagaesia.
It was so bad that Jormandur, Nasuada's general, assisted Eragon in fixing the straps of Saphira's saddle.
Saphira wore her armor yet not the war saddle. They needed the lightest load possible and the tooled war saddle was more for show than anything else. Eragon fixed the final straps on his arm band, tucking Brisingr safe inside its sheath and hauled himself upon Saphira. Who happened to yawn like a lion at that moment, flame erupting carelessly from her mouth and scorching the empty tents in front of her.
"Well, that helps with the packing." Jormandur commented dryly from behind Eragon. "You two will scout ahead, you know where we are going."
Without a word, they took of silently, tearing through the night sky.
Eragon yawned loudly, his breath whooshing past his face as they flew. Hopefully, I won't fall asleep before I am able to access the Vault of Souls. He commented dryly.
Hopefully, I won't fall asleep while I'm flying. Saphira retorted.
What had they done to themselves?
A/N. I know what I said. 2 weeks. Final chapter. Well, you get one more big chapter. I just pulled a Paolini and realized my plot was too big for only one more chapter. (or in his case, book.) Please forgive me, don't be too critical of my writing, and please review. Believe it or not I actually really enjoy reading what you have to say about my story.
Now, onward to the final battle! And since school is almost out (I'm in college, so unfortunately finals will be taking up my life for the next couple days,) I will be dedicated to finishing this story once and for all.
Thanks,
Misty