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Chapter 25 – Gata abr Freohr
"Prophesies? I do not trust in them. They shall tell you that you shall die at the hand of a friend. Perhaps you will. Perhaps your friend gives you an illness and you die. The prophesy would have been fulfilled. Prophesy is the master of deception and finding loops and bends, taking a longer route to accomplish something that could be done in a straight line."
~Lord Rider Vrael
Eragon quietly cradled Evilan in his arms, the child fast asleep within the cloak he wore instead of a blanket.
Aelwyn had nearly forced the guards to leave, saying she was a far better protector than any of them, and now slept in a comfortable position beside him, her head resting by his side. Seductive, charming, beautiful, but it didn't matter to him. She had taken him under her wings and had guided him through so much and had been his loyal friend and he loved her for that alone. Her gauntlets lay on the bedside-table, the blood-red metal hands looking deadly even when lying still on a desk of wood.
She was sleeping.
It made him smile.
He preferred sleep, but if the need arose, he had been taught how to fall into a fully-aware trance-like state, your sense of hearing, smell, feel, and split-second reactions heightened far beyond any twenty elves combined. Though his eyes were closed, he could hear the difference between the light tread of a wolf and the slightly quieter padding of a fox. He could hear the scampering of mice and tell exactly where it was, all to make up for his temporary blindness. It was like sleep, just sleeping fully aware of what was going on around you. Sleep rarely came to the Hands. Her sleeping—fully sleeping—was a mutual show of immense trust and close friendship.
Sighing at his restlessness, he drew his cloak tighter around him and Evilan, gently pushing open the balcony door as not to startle Aelwyn into the land of the waking.
The cool breeze instantly stole his tiredness away, Evilan's eyes snapping open with a gaze only a child of two Hands could have.
It had been the Restorations. They had decreased her pregnancy time by leaps and bounds, but it had also made her birthing a little harder than it should have been. But Sarissa had been a Hand of Death. Pain was life, life was pain, and living life was to accept pain. After having received Restorations so many times and been on the giving end just as much, her body had come to believe herself immortal, her body processes were much faster, her reactions faster than most elves, as were his now. Two weeks were all she needed.
Evilan looked up at the stars, his startled gaze turning into awe and child-like infatuation.
Eragon almost smiled.
"Mistress, do you like stars?"
She laughed that beautiful laugh of hers that sounded like the singing of angels.
"My love, a blind man knows the beauty of stars. Nothing can surpass them. I do not like stars. I love stars. Perhaps I am a monster, but I thank the good fates that I can look up at the stars and sigh with wonder and marvel at how beautiful they are."
The Dragon Rider swooped his head down, kissing their son's forehead, drawing the child's attention.
"Evilan, do you see those stars?"
He reinforced his question with a mental picture of the stars above them, Evilan cooing with delight.
That drew a true, wondrous smile from him.
"Your mother loved the stars and how beautiful and wonderful they were. She was no monster. When you grow up, you shall hear how your mother slaughtered hundreds, thousands, scores upon scores of men. But she was no monster. No monster can see beauty in stars and look up at them, turn to her companion, and say 'the stars are beautiful tonight,' and truly mean it. You had a mother I never deserved, my son. You had a mother who is as beautiful as the stars she loved."
The child's thoughts shifted to a vague image of Sarissa, slightly rugged, a little less accurate.
Eragon showed his son a quick memory of Sarissa, the child's eyes turning bright with awe.
This child would never be a monster.
Evilan Viyala Eragonson had seen beauty.
For the remainder of the time he stayed awake, the child gazed up at the stars, his thoughts never holding anything but wonderment and adoration for those glowing, shimmering, twinkling spots in the black sky his beautiful mother had loved so.
Eragon.
Eragon shot up from his bed, clutching Evilan protectively.
Eragon, be calm.
Ebrithil Glaedr? Eragon asked in shock, trying to hold onto the strand of thought that was the ancient dragon.
Come to me, I wish to speak with you.
Of course, ebrithil. Where do you rest?
I am in Arya's room.
Arya stirred when she heard her door slip open with a tiny swish of air.
"Arya?"
She pushed herself up, drawing the blanket around her, "Eragon? What is wrong?"
He shook his head, gracefully gliding over to her, gently pushing her back down to warmly tuck the covers against her, "'Tis nothing, fricai. Ebrithil Glaedr asked me to speak with him."
She indicated a leather pouch upon the small wardrobe.
The thoughts of his dragon master flooded his mind, a gentle tidal wave of comfort.
You have changed much, Eragon finiarel.
Eragon almost smiled.
Master, if you call me finiarel, then I have changed much from a foolish young boy.
The dragon thrummed with quiet laughter.
Perhaps. I sense your pain, hatchling. Do you wish to speak of it?
The Dragon Rider hesitated.
Simply opening up his mind to his mentor, he let his memories, his thoughts, his longings and regrets all shared with the golden dragon who resided inside the Eldunarí.
It felt like hours, but he knew not much time had passed.
When Glaedr finally spoke, the voice was unsure.
You… love Sarissa?
Yes… I did—still do perhaps.
The dragon was silent.
By the stars…
He said nothing more.
Aelwyn woke up to find Evilan in her arms, Eragon absent from his place beside her.
Pity, she had been planning to have fun waking him up.
She gently laid the child in the bed, stretching like a cat, her joints and bones popping loudly as she curled and yawned, casually slipping on her gauntlets, too used to the pain to even react anymore.
Swiftly buttoning the top half of her shirt—which she had left undone for Eragon's annoyance—she swept her friends' child in her arms, striding out the door.
The first soldier she saw saluted, "Ma'am! Rider Eragon asked me to tell you to meet him at the stables when you awoke."
She raised an eyebrow, "A strange place to seduce me."
The soldier almost smiled.
"He also added in that he was not planning to seduce you."
She pouted, "Oh, that man. Alright, do you have any idea what's going on?"
"Only that a few hours before, a dreamwraith returned from Vroengard and was demanding to see Lady Calayn and Rider Eragon."
She bristled.
She didn't like the dreamwraiths. They unsettled her for some strange reason. Whenever she reached out to see if she could feel their thoughts, they would spin towards her, a blank look on their face.
Their thoughts were invisible to her, akin to trying to grip quicksilver in your hands.
That was unsettling. What made her even more uneasy was the fact that they could sense her powers. Not even a Hand could tell if another Hand was reading their thoughts.
"Very well, proceed, find a lady, have fun tonight," she winked, strolling off without a hitch in her gait. She could kill a dreamwraith with ease. The only barrier between her and them was Eragon, and she would give up her life for him if he merely held out a hand.
She strode into the stables, kicking open the doors, startling a few horses and stable boys.
"Eragon, why do you leave a messenger to tell me to come to the stables? Do you not thing a bath is much more comfortable to make love it?" she shouted with feigned exasperation.
She could literally feel all the thoughts turn from confusion and anger to something along the lines of horror and absolute terror. None of the Varden would dare be so brazen with the Dragon Rider, and here was this woman openly teasing him about subjects old maids gossiped over.
"If I had been planning to seduce you, I would have mentioned for you to leave Evilan in the care of Arya or Calayn or Aneira," a wry voice said softly.
Right beside her.
She stifled a shout of surprise.
This was not normal.
Evilan let out a small cry of joy, his small arms reaching for the man he knew as father now.
Aelwyn scowled as she handed Eragon his son.
"When did I teach you so well?"
He gave a small smile, "During the times you were not trying to bed me. I must travel to Vroengard. I thought you would like to go."
"Is that a question?"
"Not necessarily."
"Good. Because if it was you would find yourself flying without wings towards Vroengard. Say, do you not think Saphira would be the best way to get there? And not to mention I'm quite fond of having two people teasing you, not just me. Arya is too boring."
The people who worked in the stables were horrified to no end.
Not only had she slandered their Dragon Rider, but now also an essential, important member of the Varden. She was incredibly stupid or arrogant.
Or horrifying.
"Have you bed her yet? Sarissa became happier after you, perhaps you could make Arya smile more."
Horrifying just got even more horrifying.
Eragon raised an eyebrow.
"Saphira is coming. I just wanted you to ride a horse there so I have no need to see your hideous face during the time it takes to get there."
Aelwyn pouted.
It swiftly turned into a small smile when he kissed her cheek, "No, I love being in your company, Aelwyn. It is just that I wanted to talk to Iawen before I left."
The horse nickered behind him, the pitch-black stallion looking over his master's shoulder with frighteningly green eyes that made her heart stop every time she saw them. Horses were never supposed to have green eyes, yet Sarissa's did.
Aelwyn supposed it fit her sister-warrior's strange, powerful, deadly prowess and visual imagery.
Eragon murmured some quiet words to the horse, kissing the powerful destrier's forehead.
He smiled when a rough tongue licked his cheek, Iawen snorting before pushing against Eragon's chest with his muzzle.
Aelwyn smirked, "So, it seems like you like horses more than women."
She got that sinking feeling he had a better retort when she saw the mischievous grin on his lips.
"Oh, perhaps I do. Women have mouths to speak."
He leaned forward, his face barely a fingerbreadth from hers.
"Horses simply listen. You should learn to be silent."
Her jaw dropped open.
"They do not stare in abstract shock either. It is very hard to offend them."
"Eragon Bromsson, I will throw you back into the lake!" she snapped indignantly, the Dragon Rider sprinting out of the stables.
"Horses do not do that either!"
"Oh, but they kick, but a Hand of Death kicks harder, you fool!"
Saphira thrummed happily when Eragon leapt onto her back, kissing her neck tenderly.
Why do you bring the crazy woman instead of Arya? the dragoness asked wryly.
I will sleep better knowing Arya is safe in Gil'ead.
If that were ever possible. She barely sleeps.
Eragon looked at his soul-mate.
She does not?
No. Would you be able to sleep easily in the city where you were hung about the maw of hell for weeks on end?
Eragon's heart skipped a few beats.
Can you carry three?
With ease. I am not the weakling I once was.
I wish you had been so I could brag I was once stronger than you.
Saphira gave a toothy grin.
Arya was furious.
That fool of a Dragon Rider dare no—
"Arya! There you are!"
She spun to see Eragon running over to her, dressed in his usual black and gold uniform.
Those horrid, horrifying gauntlets…
"You wish to come? Aelwyn will not mind the extra company," he said, giving a small, hopeful, apologetic smile.
She tried to scowl but it came out as a returning smile.
"Of course. I was about to hunt you down for not telling me of your departure, and even more so for not asking me to come."
They made good time, making it close to the foot of the Spine by the end of two days. It was relieving to be out of that painfully familiar city where she had sometimes been paraded through with Durza holding her by a leash.
It had been humiliating.
Men had leered at her, but most of all, they all despised her.
Now they feared her.
But it still had scarred her. It ached, burned, tore at her, easing only when she felt the comfort of Eragon's presence near her. He chased the pain away somehow, with his beautiful innocence, his care, his concern for her.
Right now, she basked in the warmth of his embrace as he leaned against Saphira's fire chamber.
Half of her wanted to run out of his embrace and berated her for letting him even touch her. The other half loved it and never wanted to leave the gentle, soothing shelter.
The latter half won this time.
He leaned down slightly, his lips brushing her ear.
"I have been told that you do not sleep."
She hesitated.
"You need not worry, Eragon."
"You are a friend, Arya, one of my few. I worry about you, whether I wish to or not."
She sighed softly.
"'Tis Gil'ead. How can I sleep in the city of my torment?"
Shivers ran down her body when he gently drew her closer to him, cradling her like a young child.
"Because I will not let you go through any more torment if I may take it upon myself. I promise," he whispered.
"There is not much to explain," Eragon said quietly. "Estelan told me that while he and his group were there, a huge quake struck the city, but no buildings fell. They say when they explored after the shaking, they found that the foundations of the city were built in deep as if the builders knew of the quakes. Then while they were looking around, they found a deep vault. One dreamwraith of his group died from the wards. Another died from the wounds he received. Yet another lost her arm."
Arya's eyes narrowed, maybe from the wind that blew through her hair.
"But…"
"Dreamwraiths cannot be touched by defensive wards, I know," Eragon agreed. "But this one killed two and hurt another. Death cannot be faked."
Aelwyn's eyes were distant.
"Cadialos dwinath," she said simply.
Eragon looked over at her, his brows furrowing with her words.
"Elaû? Adíl Vroengardrosa, lëdu ka Cadiala."
She shrugged.
"He is Cadian. How?"
Eragon fell silent.
Arya was lost.
"Eragon?" she asked hesitantly.
He pursed his lips.
"Sarissa's teacher was a man, a Cadian, by the name of Lord Master Aias. He had a great number of mates. A few had children."
He looked at Arya, his eyes dark.
"He had one particular son by the name of Brom Aiasson."
Saphira gently curled Eragon up in her wing.
My love… Just because your grandsire was a harsh, cold, killer, your father became a man who was loved and respected and remembered with honor. So are you. You are not your grandsire. You are not Aias.
No… I have accepted my heritage. But I understand why he did what he did.
The dragoness looked at Eragon with curiosity and worry.
He loved me. He saw me. He saw visions… of me. And my war. He saw you. He saw my future, and he saw me die from my weakness. So he searched for a woman who would train me, but he was especially careful about who he trained, and how he trained her.
He took Sarissa, took her life, and shattered into a million shards, but he knew when she met me, she would break all over again. I broke her, Saphira… Aias loved me, grandfather, my grandfather, a murderer, a killer, a horrible man, still had enough of his humanity left to love his grandson and to help me through death. By the stars… if only I could hate him… I cannot hate a man who loved me enough to give his life…
She pulled him closer to her warm flanks, protectively keeping her powerful wings around her beloved rider.
I can tell she loved you.
And how? How? By the stars I miss her so much…
You love Sarissa, do you not?
With all my heart.
Then who is she not to love you back?
An Arya, my queen of the skies. Another Arya.
Something was amiss.
Right when they flew into the seeing distance of Vroengard and Doru Areaba, Eragon felt an intense pain in his left chest.
Aelwyn hissed, clutching at where her heart would be.
"Eragon? Aelwyn?" Arya asked worriedly.
"Something is wrong," Eragon rasped hoarsely.
The pain was beyond words. It was like having a thousand blades drag and cut and tease and rip and shred, like hearing the truth except ten times as painful.
Aelwyn let out a quiet whimper.
"Stay back," he said softly to Aelwyn. "It hurts me to see you in pain."
"No," she said through gritted teeth, groaning helplessly. "By the stars, I will walk with you to hell and back if you asked, and if you didn't ask, I'd do it over again. I will not leave your side."
He clasped her hand.
"It is Cadian. It can be no other. It does not hurt Arya."
Saphira slightly faltered in flight.
I can.
Eragon urged her down.
We will walk. I do not wish to risk you getting hurt.
By the stars, what is wrong here? Saphira asked furiously as she descended a bit faster than usual. He could feel her thoughts muddy with pain and agony.
I do not believe Kuthian has finished speaking to me.
The vault was right where Estelan had said it was, east of the west tower, fifty elf-paces to the east, behind the bushes.
A few skeletons lay beside the entrance when Eragon used magic to move the bushes.
The same pain that was constantly making Aelwyn wince and hiss was gnawing at him, and it only intensified when he felt the waves of magic rolling out of the cave.
You have come.
He recognized the figure walking out of the cave.
Arya drew out her sword, "Take another step and I shall smite your head off," she growled dangerously.
Eragon pushed the blade down.
"My lord."
The man bowed from the waist, "No. My lord. Welcome once more."
Aelwyn gripped his arm.
"Eragon…"
Then she fainted in his arms.
Kuthian looked at the unconscious woman.
"You should not have brought another Cadian. The pain would be too much for even a Hand of Death."
Then Eragon saw what his friend had been looking at.
Above the cave, in neat engravings of the Cadian alphabet, were written two words.
Malanamo Vyiliya.
Path of Death.
"You will not kill Aelwyn," Eragon hissed furiously.
"Her training serves her well. Had she been a regular Cadian, she would have died. She will only ache, but will not wake until she leaves the island. The pain of coming to this island will die away soon. But for now, I must speak with you."
Eragon gently placed Aelwyn in Arya's arms.
"Take care of her," he whispered.
Then he walked down the stairs.
"High Master Aias… was what I suppose you call a close acquaintance. I knew him and we were on good terms. He served justice in his own harsh way. He was also a powerful spellweaver. He created this place. You do not understand the beginning of magic. When you leave, you shall know what Aias knew. And you will learn much more."
Eragon walked silently beside Kuthian, the pain subsiding now for some reason.
Then he saw the engravings in the walls.
"What are they?"
"Prophesies. Omens. Blessings. Curses. It is nothing but the truth. But there is a certain one you must see."
The long-dead Lord Rider soon came to a stop in a dark area.
"Rosaní."
It was huge cavern.
On one wall, engravings covered it from ceiling to floor.
"Read it. Learn. And we shall speak some more."
Kuthian waited.
An hour or two later—time had no meaning to him—Eragon came out.
His eyes had a haunted quality to them.
"Aias studied magic for centuries. He learned many things for those long, long years," Kuthian said softly. "He learned that magic is tied to life so intimately, that even death could not sever that bond. He also learned that magic is wound around death with strength that cannot be matched. But as he delved deeper into the world of magic, he found much, much more.
"He found that magic was entwined with something called prophesy. Magic, prophesy, death, life. Prophesy uses life, death, and magic to speak to us. Magic uses prophesy, death, and life. Life uses death, prophesy, and magic. Death uses magic, prophesy, and life. Without one, the cycle is broken. This place is special. Aias learned the way to separate the bonds. This place has no death, no life. Only prophesy and magic. Apply the tiniest amount of energy to a light spell, it will blind you. Every word you speak here will somehow be tied to prophesy or an omen or something of the like. You understand?"
Eragon nodded slowly.
"You do not understand how selfless and good-hearted Aias was… all you know of him is that he trained Sarissa and is your grandsire. Now I tell you, despite the horrible stories of him, he was kind-hearted under that thick wall of diamond he put around himself. Have you ever heard of something called 'prophesy shattering'?"
The Dragon Rider looked at his forbearer in confusion.
"Ah… Of course, you would not have learned it from anyone. Here, remember carefully how there are four factors in this universe, four, and only four, life, death, magic, prophesy. If I took away life, death, or magic, then prophesy would fail. This is where he learned to do things beyond imagination.
"Aias learned to shatter prophesies."
Translation: Gata abr Freohr (title) – Path of Death
Cadialos dwinath (Cadian) – Cadian magic
Elaû? Adíl Vroengardrosa, lëdu Cadiala (Cadian) – How? It is (adíl) Vroengard, not Cadia.
Rosaní (Cadian) – Light
TN: everything except the title is mine~
AN: OAISJFSALDKSJ I'M SO SORRY I TOOK FOREVER TO UPDATE AHHHHHHHH, ITS NOT MY FAULT, BLAME MY TEACHERS AND PARENTS. but hey. i gave you guys an extra long chapter this time to make up for lost time. XD
Anyways… yes, here is where the title comes in. I'll explain more the next chapter, but I hope you liked itt~ Aelwyn's fine if you guys were worried. XD I love her character too much, I can't kill her off easily.
ANDDD people pleasee, do not be afraid to review, anonymous review is enabled, so anyone may review, critique, suggest things, and give me feedback in general. :) i need it to become a better writer, which this whole thing is about to me. please do take the minute or so it takes to write a simple revieww :D thank you so much to my reviewersss
Viro – loll I'm thinking so. XD thank youu~
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Dr. Vladimir – I'm working on that. ^^ pahaaa, thankssss :D
Eradon son of awesomeness – Eragon would make a good father, don't you think?... :D loll thanksss~
ESMT – I never told you guys what his name means… NEXT CHAPTER SHALL SHOW WHAT EVILAN'S NAME MEANSSSS
Thanks for the reviewww ^^
Daxxx – HAHAHAHAHA, GALBATORIX GETS HIS BUTT KICKED BY A BABYY, OH YESSSS XD lol, not really. we'll see about ExA though~
EminemBitches – LOOLLLL XD I don't think he would have planned to learn that spell very soon XDDD thanks brahhhh
Darth Feanor – Eragon's a father, Eragon's a fatherrrrr~ ^^ thank youuusssss
Cara – LOL, I'm gonna keep throwing them at you ^^ thankss~ and I hope the chapter explained it… didn't it?
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Fanboy123 – thank youuu! ^^ big compliment~ and ikr?... *le sighhh* I need my lightbulbs again.
Eragon5443 – o.o;; I'd rather not have a pirate army raining on my head. XD I'm working on it, promiseeee