First and foremost I'm so sorry for the prolong delay. I've been having a hard time settling down my life and I just lost the motivation to write my story. But I always remembered the promise about finishing this story and when Inheritance came out (which I am currently reading) I just got the motivation to do it again. And so I cleared everything off my agenda and sat and typed away for ages. And I would also like to thank all of you who have been reviewing and keeping up my motivations as well as my Beta not giving up on me. Anyway, I know you're all excited so have fun reading and don't forget to review. :)
If Arya's prediction was to be trusted, the rain was not going to let up anytime soon. But on the third day, it had gotten much better; at least that was what she told him. However, he had not expected to be trekking through the forest underneath a torrent of falling droplets of water. Still, it was better than doing nothing. Easily stepping over roots, he frowned when his boots landed in a rather thick puddle of mud. He thought it was mud anyways.
"It is mud," stated Arya, who was walking ahead of him. She turned her head back to smirk at him: "There is no need to make such a face, Eragon."
"What I do not understand is how you can walk all over the ground and only have mud on the bottom of your boots." He muttered, slightly put out at the sight of his black leather boots drenched in mud. Continuing onward, he glanced overhead, the dragons haven't yet left the cave yet, seeing the rather detrimental weather conditions.
The objective was that he and Arya reach Ellesmera in due time and once the weather betters, the dragons would follow. But that was only if everything went according to plan. Lately, however, luck wasn't in his favor. Whatever that was going to happen when he returned to Ellesmera, he would have to try his best to face it. Especially coming face to face with Queen Islanzadi again.
There was no way around it; he had to tell her the truth.
Her and Oromis.
Sighing, Eragon craned his head to glance up through the small gaps the leaves, which promptly resulted in a raindrop falling on his cheek. But how should he even begin to explain? Would they believe him or would they turn their backs?
"You seem to be deep in thought." Arya said. It was not a question, but rather a statement of fact. She paused in her consistent stride to turn and look at him, before turning away and resuming their journey.
"I was just thinking about some things." Eragon replied, vaguely. He did not want to start explaining himself just yet. Everything seemed confusing to him in his current state.
"Are you feeling better?"
"Very," said Eragon with a nod, knowing that she probably wasn't going to see it. "My illness has long since passed."
"That is good to know."
He glanced ahead of them. "How far along are we?"
Stopping to judge the distance, Arya turned to face him. "If my estimation is correct, by night we shall be within the outskirts of Ellesmera. But I am sure you don't plan on returning to the city first."
"No, I'm not," agreed Eragon, "how much further is Oromis's hut?"
"For that even I am not sure," admitted Arya with a slight frown, "It might take us days without the help of the dragons."
"Days, huh?" he frowned. That wasn't good enough. Especially not now when his mind was in the condition it is. He fell into pace with Arya, thinking to himself as they walked in a comfortable silence. It had been a few months since he'd left the Empire, and the distance he was from Galbatorix was also part of the problem.
As he walked, his vision flickered before him, for a moment causing him to stagger slightly. Regaining his sight, he steadied himself. Not again. He couldn't afford to lose control anymore around Arya or he could fatally wound her.
"Are you feeling unwell?" asked Arya as she came to stand beside him.
He shook his head. "No, just lost my balance is all." He lied. Saphira wasn't around to keep him from falling apart, which made the situation all the direr. He needed a distraction of some sort; something to keep his mind from unraveling at the ends like a ball of yarn. As they continued walking he felt himself slowly smile as something came to mind. It would be embarrassing to ask but he was going to take the chance anyway.
"Arya," she turned to him and gave him a curious stare. "Would you like to indulge me with a game of words?"
She nodded, her expression growing more curious. "The rules are simple," Eragon explained, "I'll start off in a category and say a word pertaining to it, and you have to find a word that also relates to the same category as well but it has to start with the last letter of my word. For example," he cast for a subject, "the category is birds, vulture."
She responded in kin, her eyes gleaming. "Eagle."
Eragon nodded, "That's all there is to it. Now let us start." Feeling a bit of competiveness rise up in him, he cast around for a category. "Hue: azure."
"Emerald." Her lips were curved in a faint half smile.
And that was how their simple game went. It distracted him that much was certain. For at times Arya would shoot off a word with such a ridiculous ending that it would take him a while to figure out what to say in response. And he had no doubt in his mind that she enjoyed seeing him struggle on the spot for more than fifteen minutes. By the time they were done, it was already well into the day. Night was almost falling.
"Let's stop here." Eragon said as he glanced up at the sky.
Arya nodded her mood lighter from besting him in the simple game that they played. Or it seemed that way to him, but he couldn't tell for sure. "This area seems like a good place as any to rest."
Without further ado, he settled onto the ground as Arya went to collect some firewood to make a small but warming fire. He raised a brow. "Why don't you use magic?" asked Eragon.
"I've grown used to doing it like this," she replied as she intricately stacked the wood atop each other. "Many humans within the Varden are afraid of magic. And after seventy years of living amongst them makes me grow to forget the ease in which to accomplish something by using magic."
He nodded. In a way, that did make sense. He watched as she lit the fire with the soft murmur of a word before the wood sparked. Within seconds, they had a nice crackling fire to gather warmth from.
As he sat there contemplating what Arya had just said, he began to grow curious at her past experiences. "How did you feel?"
She raised a brow at his question. He backtracked. "About living amongst humans?"
"How do you feel about living amongst elves?"
Eragon shrugged it was an honest question. How did he feel about living with the elves? A race so ancient and mythical it seemed more legend than reality. He could remember when he was a child he had read about their existence before he actually met them. It had really intrigued him as to how it was there was not even a glimpse of them. And now to be living with them seemed almost…
"You might not believe it," Eragon said softly, "but as a child I've always dreamed of Du Weldenvarden." He stared at the bright crackles of the fire. "In stories and books, I've read about it, a lush green forest that was a haven to the elves." A haven from Galbatorix.
"And what do you think of it now?" asked Arya from where she sat opposite of him. He didn't say, for he didn't know anymore. "It may surprise you how different we were before the fall of the riders. Now…even I find it somewhat odd to be around them again."
"Seven decades is a long time, even by your standards." Said Eragon, "You never answered my question though."
She remained silent for a while, giving him the impression that she might not ever answer his question. Then after a moment, she began to talk, her voice soft. "The first day I stood in the presence of so many humans, I thought I was standing amongst the midst of baboons."
He chuckled lightly, not expecting that as an answer from her, but could somewhat understand where she was coming from with that. "It was like an uncivilized nation compared to my people. The men smelled of sweat and gore and the women abided by a ridiculous rule of domesticity. The dependence one had on the other was nothing I've seen before. Growing up in Ellesmera, I've learned of various ideals and cultures but none as off-balancing as you humans."
Eragon couldn't help from smiling at her way of thinking. It seemed that once she got started on the topic, she couldn't let it go that easily. "But I've also come to learn many things that are never present here." Her gaze softened. "A strong bond of friendship between comrades, the love siblings had for one another always doting with affection, the open display of love amongst the young, a mother's love for her children…"
"Due in part of our short life span," said Eragon. "We die and conceive much easier than most of the other races here in Alagaesia."
"So it would seem." Arya agreed as she traced runes in the small patch of dirt beside her. "But I've always felt out of place there. The difference between our races was so great that it was hard to understand at first."
The fire crackled loudly as Eragon tossed a few blades of grass into it. Staring at the blades that remained in his fingers an idea occurred to him. He picked some blades of grass around him and began to weave them together as Arya continued speaking.
"It all seemed to come naturally to you," she said as if finally able to get a great burden off of her chest. "You didn't have to work at being who you were. There was no strict rule on mannerism in the presence of others. No need to give round about answers. There was a kindness that even strangers could feel."
"They in turn became used to my presence and the presence of my companions. We were always treated with respect and admiration when in truth we should be admiring them. Who else was fighting the brunt of this war for so long? Who else was it that stole the eggs from Uru'baen? Certainly not us."
"A quality that is somewhat of a flaw in us," Eragon said as he weaved the blades of grass between his fingers. "A capacity for a reckless amount of courage."
"Even so," Arya said her voice strong with conviction, "Though we may be talented in magic and skilled in swordsmanship-"
"And knowledgeable about the world." Eragon added.
She nodded, not fazed when he'd interrupted her as if deep in thought. "It is humans who can transcend God."
He stopped, momentarily caught off guard about what she'd said. What was Arya talking about? Her emerald green eyes rose to his bright ones. "Elves, dwarves, and sometimes even dragons, we don't see the need to prove anything, to do anything if it is out of our power. The resistance against Galbatorix was only strongest on the front of the humans. All we did is provide the supplies necessary and hide when we are stronger and more long-lived than humans were. It should've been we who robbed Galbatorix of his egg, who should've struck down the last of the Forsworn. But we did not. And we left these tasks to humans to accomplish, and they did so without the need of either our help or our magic."
"Why is that?" she spoke now more to herself than to him. "It was because of their emotions. Because of their short lives that propelled them to such achievements. Humans can make the impossible possible, look at Galbatorix for example. It's not a matter of rules or popular opinion that matters to them but what they believe is to be true in their hearts. And eventually they will become the victor in a struggle such as this."
"You've put much thought into this," observed Eragon as he continued his weaving. "I would've never thought of it that way before you spoke of it to me."
"I've had more time to dwell on this than you have," said Arya as she returned to stare at the flames. "I've seen things that you've never before seen, heard things that most will never hear. It has given me new perspectives on the outlook of life."
"I've always believed that one day I would be free of Uru'baen with Saphira and my mother," said Eragon as stared as his hands weaving the blades of grass. "I've always thought that it was a pointless dream. A passing though that would be carried away with the wind if I dwelled too much on it…but has it not come to pass? And so I too believe as you've said that humans can transcend not only God but their own sufferings and keep holding on to hope."
"Look at where it has gotten us," Eragon pointed out. "Three riders against Galbatorix in such a short span of time. Through all of the grief and sorrow that this war will bring to us by the conclusion of it, we'll greet a new dawn. With the hope for a better future."
She nodded. Finished with his object of fascination, he whispered a word in the ancient language and watched as it flew over to Arya. It was a small dragon made from grass that took flight in the air. A sorry comparison to Saphira and Eridor but he felt accomplished of himself more so than he did during anything else.
He watched as she reached up a hand to let it land on her upturned palm. It gave a roar that seemed like a squeak compared to what Saphira could do. He watched as it traveled the length of Arya's hand and to both of their amusement, curled up on her hand and refused to move anywhere else.
"That's odd," Eragon said as Arya placed it on the ground beside her despite its small yelp of protest.
"Usually when you animate an object, it takes on the mirror personality as the magician who'd cast the spell," explained Arya. He frowned not knowing whether or not to take that as an insult or compliment. "It could use some improvement."
"Thanks," said Eragon dryly. She nodded.
After her rather deep confession, he saw her in a new light. She wasn't just the princess of the elves or a fellow rider but to him he saw her for who she truly was and what she truly believed and for that reason, he admired her and what was more, he felt a strong desire to always stand by her. No matter what. He had never felt that way before towards others besides his mother, Saphira, and his servants he had to admit.
"Eragon," he turned towards Arya's voice. "Have you ever given any thought to Murtagh as a rider?"
He frowned, not expecting that sort of question from Arya. But to be honest, he didn't think that much of Murtagh since he'd arrived at the Varden. He hated his brother's simpleton attitude and foolish questions, but that was to be expected. Taking his silence as a refusal to answer her question, Arya grew stiff. "Forgive me if I overstepped any boundaries, Eragon."
He shook his head, "That's not it." He searched for words to describe it to her. "I don't know what I think of Murtagh. I've hated him for as long as I could remember. So it's odd to think of him as such." He thought more on it. "I believe that if we were to switch places, he would be no different than I would have been. But as a rider, he has come a long way."
He thought of the scar that Durza had left on Murtagh's back and felt remorse. "And I wish I could've done something about his wound." He breathed out. "If only I killed Durza before the battle."
"He isn't as weak as you think him to be," said Arya with a quick glance at the sleeping grass dragon. "You may not see it as clearly but he is trying his best to come on par with the both of us."
"No doubt that he's feeling insecure about his own abilities." Said Eragon with a soft sigh. "He'll see it eventually…he'll understand soon…"
Would Eragon be around long enough to see his brother finally reach the end of his long and arduous training to see the fruit of his labor? Maybe not. The way his mind was going, he might go crazy with madness before he would be able to see it happen and done with. But even though he didn't want to admit it to anyone, he hoped that Murtagh would be able to overcome the obstacles in his way and emerge newly found.
"Arya, can I ask you a favor?"
She nodded, her emerald eyes questioning. "I know I'm not in any place to request it of you after what I did, but…" he fought for words. "Help Murtagh for me, I don't want to see him become anything like I am." Unfit to help his friends, his family.
Arya stared at him for a moment and he thought that she was going to deny him but she slowly nodded. "I'll try my best…but it would be more effective if there was someone else watching as well."
He nodded, grateful. "I'll be doing my best as well." He hated to admit it, but he was worried for Murtagh. If he didn't make it through, he wanted Murtagh to be able to. Unconsciously, unaware that Arya was watching he brought his hand up to his right eye. Was it going to last before he left Ellesmera? Or would it fade?
Nevertheless, he had to try his hardest. He owed the people he cared about that much. He wasn't going to give up and die on the spot. Never. Not like how he thought before. He was going to survive. No matter what. Lowering his hand, he bowed his head towards Arya in a show of gratitude. "Eka elrun ono," said Eragon. I thank you.
Her gaze softened. "It is but little consequence, Eragon."
"Still, I-" he stopped short. He had never had the need to rely on another before and this was so new to him, he didn't know where to begin.
"It is getting late," Arya said to save him from discomfort. "We should sleep; there is a long way to travel without the dragons to help us until the weather dies down."
"Yes," Eragon nodded grateful. He laid down on the soft ground, watching out of the corner of his eyes as Arya extinguished the flames before she too went to rest in her dream like state. And for some unknown reason, his heart clenched with longing. Eragon shook his head and turned over to sleep, letting his mind and body relax. He still had a long way to go.
So what did you think of the chapter? I thought it was a pretty good heart to heart conversation but the bigger plot is just getting revealed. And I'm going to enjoy typing it for you all to read. Anyway I have good news, because I've worked out my temporary job that I really love as an assistant in mechanical engineering and college life everything has been going smoothly for the past month. Which means I will be likely to continue my regular updates which WILL NOT span five months but about two weeks.