Chapter 57 – Listen Before I Go

All the people of Ceunon could talk about was Sir Urien, how he appeared unconscious in the middle of the courtyard in the arms of the herbalist, but he didn't know that. Instead, his mind kept playing tricks on him. He knew however that his death was close, the herbalist did not tell lies. He could feel the vitality escaping his body little by little. It wasn't easy to keep track of all the memories or fantasies that appeared inside his head, for they changed so fast. Of one thing he was sure: Bachel had made him a slave of his own mind.


"So?" Renir asked as Eragon exited Sir Urien's mind.

In the room, Lord Dain and Lady Ismira waited anxiously for his answer. Essie, the tavern girl, was there too. She seemed in more grief than the others.

"It's like he's locked inside. He won't let me in, although I saw flashing images, dreams, or memories, I'm not sure."

Lord Dain approached Renir with apprehension in his eyes.

"That's how my brother was in his last days, isn't it?"

Renir confirmed with a nod.

"I hoped master Eragon would be able to fix him, but now I see no hope. He will whither until he's gone forever."

"Just like Edd."

With another nod, Renir sent Dain to the corner, brooding over the horrible situation. Ismira put her arms around him and took him away after a sorrowful look toward Eragon.

Eragon felt powerless. He hated that there was a side of magic so strange and wild that even after studying it and understanding its mechanics it was impossible to tame it. Bachel had sent Lord Edd and Sir Urien into a spiral of bad thoughts and dreams, so powerful that locked them inside, making the mind their very own grave. Without knowing exactly what she meant when working on the spell, it was nearly impossible to counteract.

"I have to go find Saphira. Keep working on him," Eragon instructed, "maybe we get lucky." He was almost out the door when he remembered to turn and add, "And Renir! Be creative!"

He walked among the people with a destination in mind, Angela's. It would be much easier if she clarified what happened to Sir Urien and how could they possibly just appear in the middle of the city after traveling many miles in seconds. Angela had many mysteries surrounding her, and most of them didn't concern Eragon, but when she hid information that he could use to defeat Bachel, then she would have to talk.

Like the eccentric woman that she was, Angela had set camp on the west side of the town, away from the commotion of the everyday lives but near the wall, that now had trenches all around it. It was a good way to keep an eye on the preparations for war and of course, be the first one to know when things start.

Her tent was big enough to have a bedroom and a small living room, with a small table and chairs. When he got there, Saphira turned her enormous head to remove her nose from the tent's opening and greet him. What he saw almost threw him into laughter.

"Nice hat." He commented with a side smile threatening to emerge.

Saphira very proudly showed him her colorful hat, made of all the colors possible and carefully placed on the top of her head covering the spike she had there. It looked like a blanket made of the rest of several balls of wool after Angels had knitted coats, mittens, and other clothing items for many years, but in comparison to her enormous head, it was just a tiny cap, perched on top of her spike.

It has green in it.

"I can see that. Pretty."

You're mocking me.

"I am. But to be fair, I'm trying my best not to."

A dragon with a hat was possibly the most bizarre thing he had ever seen since dragons didn't need any protection against the cold weather. Any accessories were only for their vanity's sake, and if there was one thing he knew was that dragons were full of vanity.

Saphira blew a cloud of smoke his way and said, I don't think she will tell you much. It's Angela after all. She's stalling me for half an hour.

"You know I have to try."

I know. Come inside, I told her you were here.

"Thank you, and sorry for making fun of you."

I know it took all you got to refrain yourself. You're forgiven.

He touched her nose and opened the flap of the tent to enter. It was good to have his partner's support in case Angela tried to best him with witty comments full of riddles.


Essie pressed the wet cloth against Sir Urien's forehead in hopes that his faint fever would recede. It was shocking to see such a strong man beaten up by unknown forces. But thinking again, it could only take dark magic and the power of the unknown to defeat a man like that. Essie had always seen Sir Urien as the heroes described by her father when he told her stories before bed. He was tall with a solid build, always carrying a pair of creased brows. His eyes, hair, and beard were dark as the night, and it looked like he had never seen a comb in his life. His voice, however, was his most distinctive trait. It was low and raspy, like no other. Still, his scary appearance and frightening voice had nothing to do with his honest and good heart. That's how he had become a knight.

His courage had protected Ceunon from invaders since she didn't know when. That was the kind of courage that was required for Riders and other warriors, mostly knights. It filled Essie with inspiration. And she heard what Renir said, there was no way to save Sir Urien now, so his courage would perish with him. Unless… Unless it passed on to Essie! Yes, she could do something to help. She could keep his legacy of protecting the people. If only she knew what to do…

Essie left the room after a last look. Sir Urien was so peaceful like he was only sleeping, not dying. Maybe that wasn't a bad way to go after all.

Her feet took her to the castle's courtyard, where soldiers and other workers went on with their daily lives. The sun was a faint winter light, but it made her squint and put a hand over her eyes. Where to now?

That was when she saw a group of Cavahall women. They had rolled the sleeves of their winter coats up to the elbows so they could work better. They dug holes, put traps, and prepared for war, while the men trained for battle. Essie walked among them, then continued going down the street that exited the castle's domain. The city opened up in front of her. More citizens of Carvahall, helping however they knew how. They weren't sitting around, waiting for the people of Ceunon to protect them. No, they were moving, fighting.

"It's a heroic people, just like the stories," she whispered to herself.

Even Carth was being a hero in the south. They said there was a truce, so at least she knew her Carth was safe by now, but once the swords clashed again, she didn't know if he would ever return home. It was his duty to the crown, after all. A duty he carried proudly. And now was her turn to be heroic.

As an old man passed by with training swords in his arms, she realized he must be heading to the training area, so she followed him.

"Sir! Sir, wait!"

"What can I do for you, young lady?" The man said without looking back at her, but without being rude either.

"I wish to learn."

"Learn what?"

"To fight, of course."

The man stopped his walk and Essie almost bumped into his robust body.

"A little girl like you wishes to fight?"

Essie raised her chin in defiance, feeling insulted by his words.

"I am not a little girl. I am a woman, of regular size. I take care of my parents and run my husband's business while he is fighting the war in the south. I am not a little girl!"

The old man bent his head and put a training sword made of wood in her arms.

"Then follow me, regular-sized businesswoman. We have a lot of work to do."

Essie could almost laugh for she never really thought he would allow her to train with the others, but she hurried to keep up with his strides.

"My name is Essie, by the way!"

The man turned his head just enough so his words reached her.

"Horst. It's a pleasure to meet you, Essie."


"So you're back," Angela said without stopping her knitting as he walked inside her tent.

"Yes. Despite the prophecy."

Eragon took the seat she offered him on the other side of her little table. She had poured them tea, but he never touched his cup.

"Oh, yes. That."

"You were wrong."

"Was I?"

"Well, I'm here. You predicted that I would never come back to Alagaësia again."

"Did you?"

"Don't you see me here?"

"I see you here, but are you sure you are in Alagaësia?"

"What do you mean?"

"For the gods! You're the same blockhead as always," her tone was amused as her knitting became less rhythmic as she took an interest in his confusion.

"I don't understand."

"Just think about it a little more."

Eragon stared at her and saw her eyes gleaming with mirth.

"The name is just a convention, you said."

She nodded with her brows raised.

"You were listening! Good. What else?"

"But not all names are only conventions. Our true names, they describe what we are."

Angela hummed with satisfaction and signaled for him to continue.

The realization came to Eragon as a bucket of cold water right in the face. "I'm such a blockhead."

"You're such a blockhead."

"I'm the one always saying how the dragons changed our world, how the fields are flourishing, the people are getting more magical and inspired and the animals are taking their places in the land."

"Still, you were here saying how wrong I was about you not coming back ever again."

"I could never come back to Alagaësia because the Alagaësia I left no longer exists."

His head felt light with all the possibilities that opened before him. He could laugh at his blindness of before.

"Maybe all you need is time to think after all. Well done, Shadeslayer."

"But even if it didn't change. I am changed. I'm no longer the person who once left."

"That's the beauty and the scary of true names."

Eragon still didn't feel good about all this. So, did that mean that he would be able to come and go whenever it pleased him?

"You can always do whatever pleases you. I never said you couldn't." Angela replied a little annoyed when he voiced that question to her.

"But you said I wouldn't come back."

"And you didn't!"

"Right, because I never came back to the old Alagaësia."

"Yes, it was never a matter of impendence, you just didn't come back. Not because you couldn't but because it just didn't happen. But also… No, this is a conversation for another time." Angela left her knitting kit on the table and grabbed her cup of tea, just to take a sip of it and frown. "This is horrible. Give me yours, I'll throw it away."

She took both their cups and went to empty them outside, with Eragon following close behind.

"Wait!"

The herbalist was right to find herself a distant place to set her tent. Fewer people meant more privacy.

"I am not discussing this with you, Eragon. Not now. It will take a few years for it to be relevant, and we don't want to get ahead of ourselves."

Eragon grabbed her by the shoulders as she cleaned the cups with a dishcloth. His move made her hold his stare.

"What if I never left? Is that what was on your mind? What if Mount Arngor is still part of Alagaësia and I never left? A name is just a convention, after all. What if the convention doesn't involve the east, but the real Alagaësia does?"

The corners of Angela's lips curved as she was trying to suppress a smile.

"I never left, did I?"

She shrugged.

"Does it matter? You are here because you are needed here. You live in the east because you are needed in the east. It seems to me that prophecies are as fluid as a river when it comes to your life, Shadeslayer."

He let go of her shoulders, and she walked back inside, leaving him to his thoughts. Eragon had two possibilities. First, he left Alagaësia twenty years ago, and now he was back because both he and the land had changed over time. He could never get back to the Alagaësia he knew because it no longer existed. Second, he never left – yet –, for Alagaësia was more than what the convention of humans, elves, dwarves, and other creatures dictates. It went beyond that.

"You didn't come here to talk about your prophecy, I presume!" Angela shouted from inside the tent.

Her voice shook him out from his thoughts.

Saphira? What do you think?

I agree with her. It doesn't matter. You are here now, and we have work to do.

Eragon knew Saphira was right, but for once he wanted to understand the meaning of his life, without feeling he was being afloat like a leaf in the wind. It would have to be a matter for another time though.

Angela was back at knitting when he sat down.

"Will you tell me what happened in the north? And how did you get this?" He took the purple gem from his pocket and put it on the table. It vibrated with all the energy stored in there. Earlier he did a quick assessment of the quantity of energy Bachel had saved in the stone, and he could only estimate it was far more than he had ever stored in his ring Aren or any other gem. She was ready for a hundred-year battle.

"You know what happened. I went north to get the gem for you, and I took Sir Urien with me. He was attacked by some dark magic I don't know and now he is dying. End of story."

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"How did you know about the gem?"

"Can you believe I didn't? It was a lucky guess!" She said with false enthusiasm.

"No, I cannot believe you."

"Your problem, not mine."

Eragon put his hands together and bent forward to face her, pleading.

"Angela, please. Be open with me for once in our lives. Help me!"

The herbalist let out a deep breath. She put the knitting kit on the table and leaned on her knees.

"I want to help you, I really do. But everything I say comes with a price. Not for you," she added when he started to protest. "For me. There are a lot of things you do not know about me and it would be better if it remained that way."

"All right…"

Eragon didn't want to pry, but he couldn't deny that he had an immense curiosity to know more about Angela.

"You have to promise that after I finish telling you what you need to know you won't ask me any more questions about me and how I know things ever again. Ever."

Saphira nudged the back of his head with her nose. The movement made the tent shake dangerously over their heads.

Just promise and get it over with. The few answers she gives us is better than none.

I know. But I also know she will hide useful information.

Still. Take the deal.

"Fine. I promise."

The herbalist seemed pleased. She set back and crossed her legs.

"Bachel and I have a history, that does not concern you."

"So you lied to me when you said you didn't know her."

She shrugged unaffected.

"I did what I had to do. Do you want to hear it or not? Good." She continued as he raised his hand and told her to keep going. "We have known each other for a long time, so I know the things she can do. I know her personality and I figured she would be preparing for a big fight. It was a lucky guess, the gem. I thought she would have an energy supply and hoped to get it, just to get in her way a little bit.

"I hoped to talk some sense into her as well." She continued. "Of course it didn't work. Especially when she saw I had a group of werecats to back me up. She thought it meant I wished to attack her, when in fact I just needed them to do what they do best, be quick and skilled. In the end, I don't know if they survived the combat against her or not, for I grabbed Sir Urien, Solembum, and Maud, and took us away from there."

"What is Maud doing so far away from Ellesméra?"

Angela dismissed his question with a motion of a hand and said carelessly, "I stopped trying to understand the werecats' motives a long time ago. You should too."

Eragon nodded. He sat back too, now more comfortable in her presence.

"Without her gem, do you think she will retreat and recollect or attack us anyway?"

The herbalist seemed to think about it.

"It will keep me awake at night, thinking of these two possibilities."

"So? What do you think?"

She raised her shoulders, not as carelessly as before.

"I really don't know. But if you allow me to give you a suggestion. You should get to know her army before you take any measures, whether if it's attacking first or waiting for her. You surely aren't forgetting about the Ra'zac, are you?"

A shiver ran through his body just to think of them. Saphira hated to think about those foul creatures as well, and the beginning of a snarl rumbled through the tent. It made Eragon's ears hurt.

"They are always on my mind, believe me."

She nodded and looked away.

"I wonder how many people she has in her army. Are they all magicians? How many Ra'zac eggs she was able to hatch over the years?"

"You think there's more than the one Murtagh found in her hut?"

"What would she do with only one Ra'zac, boy?" Angela almost smirked. "Don't be so naive. They are better in groups when they are breeding and spreading terror all around. She knows that very well."

Eragon felt sick to his stomach. All the hard work he had done of cleaning Alagaësia of the Ra'zac had been in vain. Bachel had found a way to bring them back, and now he felt responsible for them.

"How come you don't know all these things?"

"Because I just don't. There are many things I don't know. Don't overestimate me, I might like it." She blinked an eye to him, but Eragon wasn't in the mood for playing.

"Is that all?"

"Don't you think it's enough?"

Eragon left Angela's tent feeling miserable. But before he stepped outside, he turned and asked something he was dying to know.

"How did you transport yourself and the others through miles and miles?"

Angela smiled.

"I will teach you someday. Go now, before you break your promise."

With a grimace, Eragon left on Saphira's back, heading to the north wall.

Let's go, Saphira. We need to find the others and work on a plan.


In the castle, under Renir's gaze, Sir Urien took his last breath. It wasn't painful, though. Or troubling. He was riding his horse on a beautiful field, embraced by the summer heat, hearing all about the things he didn't know yet. The voice that spoke was the one he missed the most. Edd's. Perhaps they would be back one day when what they had wasn't so strange to people anymore. In a time when they could be alive and happy together.


A/N: Four more chapters to go and an epilogue, and then we're done. They are big chapters, bigger than we're used to, so be patient with me, I'm working on them already! They are 70% done, but I want them to be just right so... be patient!

Thank you for all the support and the nice words! For everyone that wished me a happy new year, right back at you! And the others too, happy new year, may your 2021 be less shitty than 2020. Be safe, guys!