I'm so sorry this is late, but I've been pretty busy. Hopefully you enjoy this chapter!
Chapter 49 – Practice With a Witch
Entry 484:
For so long I have held the belief that our physical world and time were two separate dimensional manifolds, but after my latest experiment I have concluded that this is unequivocally false. Time, and as I have come to call it, space, are one in the same. Even the notion of gravity is incorrect: It is not an invisible force acting upon an object and forcing them together, but the curvature of this space and time, which I have come to call Lengr-Ginnug. The mass of an object is what causes the Lengr-Ginnug to curve, and this curvature tells light how to travel. Not only that, but this curvature dictates how time flows relative to the observer, meaning that two distinct references can experience different flow of time.
Now that my understanding of reality has come this far, I am beginning to feel excitement for the first time in years. Soon I will be able to control my own experience of time. There are many symmetries in the world, as though seeking balance; why then, does only time break this symmetry?
Letting out a sigh, Eragon placed the journal down for a moment. He was sitting outside the temporary sparring area the elves had set up, the sounds of steel striking against steel loud in the air. Glenwing was sparing against Wydren a few feet away while the others watched, and even some of the men from the Varden had followed their example.
It had only been two days since the Varden set up outside Dras-Leona, and already he could feel the heavy weight of anticipation in the air. The men tried to stay busy, but their quick efficiency in setting up their defenses and siege weapons left little for them to do. Most soldiers spent their time not on patrols playing various card games, electing to ignore the looming walls of the city in the distance.
No one had emerged from the city since their arrival either, though the increase of soldiers atop the wall undoubtable meant that they knew the Varden was waiting to strike. Dras-Leona's gates had been closed, and any who were left outside the city were forced to either leave or walk the distance around Dras-Leona to one of their many other entrances.
A few Varden spies had managed to sneak in with the outside dwellers, Nasuada had told them, but the insights they managed to gain were little. Whoever had taken control of the city, if it was indeed the Brotherhood, had closed off both the cathedral and Lord Marcus Tábor's own castle.
A muffled curse came from Glenwing when Wydren slipped past his defense, and on the other side of the field Saphira let out a rumbling laugh while Fírnen huffed a cloud of smoke.
Are you and Fírnen betting again? Eragon asked her.
Saphira twisted her neck so that he could see one of her eyes, which she blinked at him. Of course, she answered. What else is there to do?
A chuckle left his lips. Who did you bet on this time?
It was Glenwing this time who managed to land a blow on Wydren, and Saphira huffed. Wydren, she answered after turning back to observe the sparring. Glenwing can always stand to be knocked over a few times.
Shaking his head, even though he agreed with her, Eragon asked, And what did you bet on?
That, little one, is none of your business.
Her mind withdrew from his, and he could not help the snort that escaped him. A slight movement next to him had him twisting around to peer at his companion. Arya was weaving a few pieces of grass together in her fingers, and when he caught her gaze, she gave him a slight smile before focusing on her project. A few times he had leaned over to peer at her work, but Arya would merely pause and raise a slanted eyebrow at him until he backed away.
The two of them were resting against one of the many carts the Varden had spread out their camp, and neither of them had spoken since they had first sat down. This was what he enjoyed most about Arya's company; the two of them could sit for hours together in total silence, simply enjoying the presence of the other.
Picking up the journal again, Eragon resumed his reading:
Entry 501:
There are two ways in which one's passage through time can be altered: the first is to increase the speed in which you travel, thereby decreasing the amount of time you experience. Outside your frame of reference, everything else will seem as if they are moving slow in comparison.
This is because time and space have one absolute speed that cannot be altered, only traded between the two. The faster you move through space, the slower you would through time. If you were to not move at all through time, then you would be traveling at the universal constant through space. Unfortunately, moving at such a speed through space requires more energy than is comprehensible, and would exert more force upon the body that survival is not guaranteed.
The second requires altering gravity, or more specifically, the curvature of the Lengr-Ginnug. My theories and experiments have shown me that away from our lands mass, time moves incrementally faster than it does on the ground. The change is small enough that it would normally go unnoticed, but a sufficiently devised spell could alter the curvature around a limited area. Such a deviation would cause time inside the anomaly to proceed normally to anyone inside, but time outside would seem to have slowed to a crawl.
The amount of energy required is quite substantial, but with limited use could allow one to essentially "unchain" from time and move more quickly than those around them.
So far, any attempts to change the direction in which one travels through time, even inside the anomaly, have proven fruitless.
Eragon paused. Was this why Tenga had wanted him to read this journal? Below this entry was another smaller one, and it contained what Eragon realized was the spell Tenga had devised. It was long and complicated and Eragon could barely understand it at first, but the more time he spent dissecting each part led to it becoming slightly clearer in his mind.
It would, if Eragon understood it correctly, create a small space around the caster that would disassociate from the Lengr-Ginnug, and would make the world around them seem to slow to a crawl. It would also allow the caster to choose how little or how much of the Lengr-Ginnug curved around the "anomaly," though how was still slightly unclear to Eragon.
Below the spell was one sentence by itself.
Remember: Only one minute inside the anomaly, unless you wish to end up like the cat.
A cat? What cat?
Flipping the page, Eragon did not find any other writing save another entry, and this one was shorter than most.
Entry 502:
There comes a time when even I must admit that my question has no definitive answer. I have discovered much of the secrets our world holds over how time progresses, and even have established many such gramarye to alter my perception and experience of time. All of this has not been done in vain, and will no doubt come to use in the future regarding any such derivative questions, but my original goal of undoing our greatest mistake has failed.
No matter how hard I have tried, I cannot change the past.
There were no other entries, and the remaining pages were blank. A few, Eragon could see, where torn out, leaving behind jagged edges in Tenga's haste to remove them. Closing the journal and placing it on his lap, Eragon leaned his head back until it struck the wooden cart behind him and closed his eyes.
If this were true, and Eragon had no reason to doubt Tenga's brilliance, then he could use this spell to move more quickly. How long did it last, and how much energy did it require? The single sentence stood out to him, a caution Tenga had felt necessary to write down himself.
He had too many questions flowing around his mind, and he longed to do nothing more than to write them all on the parchment Tenga had provided him for them to communicate.
He had already asked much of the hermit, and he did not want to pull away Tenga from his current work.
Who else could I ask over this? Eragon complained to himself. I could see if Glaedr or Oromis understand it any better than I do, but that would require me to first explain everything I have read to them.
A werecat walked by, flicking his tail at Eragon and Arya in greeting. Many of the werecats traveled now alongside the Varden and could be found spread throughout the camp, claiming whatever space they felt like for their own. The werecat was a similar color to Solembum, though this one's fur was longer, and courser compared to Angela's companion.
Angela.
At once Eragon stood up, and Arya gazed at him in alarm, her work forgotten. "What is it?" She asked when he started to glance around the Varden encampment. Her voice was tense, though she did not stand like he did.
"Nothing," Eragon said at first, continuing his scan of the surrounding tents. None of them stood out to him. "Do you know where Angela is?"
Arya blinked at him, her emerald eyes showing a hint of her confusion at his question. "No," she shook her head. "Why? Is there something wrong?"
When he did not answer her right away, Arya's hand shot up and gripped his wrist tightly. Startled, Eragon peered down at her, surprised to see her concern shining brightly back up at him. "Sorry," Eragon murmured, placing his hand over hers. "Nothing, I promise. I just need to ask her a few questions."
Her eyes tightened when they journeyed down to his hand holding the journal tightly, and he knew that she understood what it concerned. "I'm coming with you," Arya declared, standing with his wrist still tightly in her grip.
He made to argue, but the steel in her voice and narrowness of her eyes made him pause. He had learned early that when she was like this there was little he could do to deter her. "Fine," he sighed.
Together, they searched around the camp, stopping to ask a few of the soldiers and other notable members of the Varden for the witch's whereabouts. When asked, Saphira and Fírnen had been of no help, claiming that it was not their responsibility to keep track of Angela. After a half hour searching it was one of the members of Du Vrangr Gata who pointed them towards a non-descript tent located not far off from Orrin's own majestic one.
Eragon knocked on the pole loudly. Sounds of objects being shuffled around inside reverberated through the thin cloth, and a moment later a familiar huffed call to enter followed. Holding the fabric aside and gesturing with his head towards Arya, Eragon ignored the thinly veiled look she gave him when she brushed past him.
When he followed her inside, the first thought Eragon had was that the inside of the tent must have matched the interior of Angela's own mind.
Random objects were strummed about, haphazardly discarded in whatever mad experiment the witch had taken on this time. Books, scrolls, and leathered paper balanced precariously on one of the tables Angela had, and next to them laid various herbs -some of which Eragon had never seen before. In the center of the tent stood another table, and upon its surface a large cauldron sat. The witch was holding a wooden ladle and stirring a foul-smelling concoction, the stench making both Arya and Eragon gag and place a hand over their sensitive noses.
Angela was frowning at the cauldron as though displeased, but her face lit up with glee when she took in them both standing before her. Her eyes flicked between the two of them, smile growing steadily, and Eragon could feel a shiver of apprehension flare up his spin.
"I always knew this day would come," Angela chuckled, abandoning the ladle and cauldron before gliding over to stand before the two Riders. "Word travels quickly here, you know."
Eragon blinked. "You did?"
Angela smirked, and Arya shifted uneasily next to him. Her shoulder brushed against his own, the slight movement not missed by the short witch in front of them.
"Was there any doubt?" Angela answered. She turned and strode quickly over to the table containing the strange herbs and began to pick up a few of them, all the while continuing to speak. "Wonderful news, of course, your joining, but I can understand why you would seek me out. Such a thing would be scandalous at best, and knowing the two of you, you would prefer to keep such a thing quiet."
Eragon caught Arya's gaze. She was frowning, her confusion as clear as his own. "Thanks?" he answered, unsure.
What is Angela talking about?
Finished selecting her herbs, the witch bundled them in a cloth and presented them to Arya. She took them hesitantly, but before either of them could speak Angela barreled on. "Brew them into tea once a day at the same time every day," Angela instructed, "and make sure you drink the whole thing. If you need more you can always return, and you have my word that I shall speak of this to anyone."
Eragon glanced down at the herbs in Arya's hand, his bewilderment at the situation only growing. Some of the herbs he recognized as medicinal, though he could not recall their exact properties. The others were unrecognizable, and Eragon made to ask when Arya suddenly let out a startled yelp and dropped the bundle.
Her face was pale, and her emerald eyes were wide. Casting a weary gaze at the dropped herbs, Eragon quickly asked, "What's wrong?"
He knew Arya well enough to see her disguised anger rising like a tide, but after a moment her face haltingly regained its stoic countenance. She ignored Eragon's question and, with a vein of frustration in her voice said, "Their seems to be a misunderstanding, wise one."
If Eragon felt as though he were lost before, the mounting confusion he had only growing larger.
Angela raised a perk eyebrow, nearly lost under her long curly brown hair. "I am aware that magic is a satisfactory solution, but do not doubt the potency of the herbs. In a moment of passion, it is well likely that one could forget to intone the spell."
Eragon blinked. A moment of passion? What the hell is Angela talking about?
"I'm not," Arya stated, taking a deep breath. Her skin was flush, and her voice quivered slightly, and at once Eragon realized that she was embarrassed. "That is not…" her words trailed off.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt Saphira's amusement at the situation. Unlike him, she understood the conversation better than he did.
A little help here? Eragon pleaded with her.
And ruin the fun? No. she snorted.
He growled in frustration, closing his mind off to Saphira. Even then, he could feel her mirth through their bond.
Arya had not moved so much as an inch, frozen before Angela. He had never seen her so affected before, and Eragon quickly placed himself in between the two women. "What are those herbs?" Eragon asked the witch, a frown marring his expression. "What are they for?"
Any amusement at the situation that Angela had dropped, and she scowled at him. "Do you not know? Why else would you be here?"
"We came here to ask you a question," Eragon ground out, "not pick up medicine."
"Contraceptive," Angela clarified, and Eragon froze. She pummeled on, her other eyebrow rising to meet the other. "How could you be such a blockhead? It is a-"
"I know what is does," Eragon blurted, his body finally responding. He could feel his own ears redden at the implied thought, and he fought the urge to glance at Arya.
Now he understood why she had dropped the herbs. He pinched his nose and closed his eyes tightly, taking a deep breath like Arya had earlier. "That's," he breathed, "That's not why we are here."
"I see," Angela stated.
There was a pregnant pause before the witch burst out laughing, bending at the waist, taking great heaves of breath. She continued chuckling for so long that part of Eragon that was not deeply embarrassed almost became worried for the short woman. He tried to catch Arya's gaze behind him, but she stubbornly turned away at glared at the bubbling cauldron next to her in the middle of the tent.
"Forgive me," Angela chuckled, attempting to reign in her mirth. "I thought-"
Her words set her off again, and it was only his desire to have his questions answered that Eragon did not storm out of the tent with Arya in tow. Taking another calming breath, Eragon bent over and retrieved the bundle off the ground, aware that Arya was watching him intently. He carefully placed them beside the cauldron and did not dare to look at them again, the back of his neck burning.
Finally, the witch calmed, and when the last of her chuckles faded, she surprised Eragon when she bowed to Arya. "Forgive me, Dröttningu," Angela stated, her voice formal and measured. "It was not my intention to offend you."
Arya accepted the apology, for she nodded quickly. The flush that had risen on her neck was still present, though her face still lacked some of its color. "It is forgiven," Arya returned, her voice regaining its strength. Still, she did not meet Eragon's gaze, and he could feel a knot of worry begin to take hold inside of him.
He did not know her thoughts on the matter, though he knew that elves considered the matter an intensely private one.
Angela straightened and nodded, before turning to Eragon with an expectant look. "Well? What is this burning question that you have?"
Eragon blinked. "What, no apology for me?"
The witch smirked at him. "And deny me all my amusement? No, only the princess deserves one. You, on the other hand can-"
To interrupt Angela, Eragon held up Tenga's journal and presented it to her. He knew that she would launch into a tirade that would no doubt cause him some great embarrassment, one that he wanted avoid Arya having to hear. The witch knew too much about him and his previous failings, and it was not something he wanted aired before his mate carelessly.
Angela, quicker than he thought her possible of, snatched the journal from his fingers. Her eyes widened when she turned it over in her hands, her fingers hesitantly tracing the edges of the imprinted title. "Where did you get this?" Angela whispered.
"Tenga," Eragon answered. Arya finally seemed to unstick from her position, inching closer to peer down at the journal.
Angela's gaze snapped to him, searching. "Did you read it?"
Glad that she forgot what she was going to say earlier, Eragon quickly nodded. "Aye."
The witch raised an eyebrow at him again. "Did you understand it?"
"Some," Eragon said, before gesturing to her. "That is why I am here."
"And your mate?"
Arya bristled behind him, "I am here to ensure that Eragon does not hurt himself in this fool's errand." Eragon tried to hide his frown, but she must have seen some hint of it, for her next words softened. "But, if he is intent on this, then I will not stop him."
He knew that Arya trusted him, and that was why she had not protested so much before, but his heart warmed at her open declaration of support. He gave her a small smile, one that he was glad caused her lips to twitch even as she avoided his gaze.
Angela clucked her tongue, drawing Eragon's attention. She ventured over to her cauldron and peered down at it again, and without so much as glancing at them said, "Ask away, then."
His first one was easy. "The spell Tenga wrote down at the end. Does it work?"
The witch picked up the ladle she had dropped before, stirring the cauldron again and giving it a disappointed glare. "It does."
"How…" Eragon trailed off before shaking his head. "Can you show me how to use it?"
Angela did not answer him, letting out a sigh and throwing the ladle to the side. "Another failure," she murmured. She grabbed a sack from beside the table and dumped its contents into the cauldron, filling the black iron to the top with what Eragon realized was dirt. That done, she motioned to Eragon and said, "Make yourself useful and dump this outside."
She strode from the tent without another word, and Eragon shared a bewildered look with Arya. Her face had finally regained most of its color, and he was glad when she was able to maintain his stare for a moment. Offering her a shrug, Eragon grabbed the cauldron from the table and carried it out of the tent easily, Arya following behind him.
Angela was waiting outside, one of her fingers on her hand tapping her crossed arm. She gestured with her head where she wanted him to deposit the foul-smelling substance, and Eragon held his breath as he carefully shook the cauldron empty. His task complete, Eragon left the dirtied cauldron next to the tent and joined the witch, trying not to fidget under her intense stare.
"How does time relate to motion?" she asked, raising a brow at him.
Eragon frowned and cast his mind back to the words Tenga had written. He did not want to simply relay them word-for-word, as he understood why she was questioning him; Angela wanted to see how well he understood the lessons Tenga tried to impart on him through the journal.
"Motion is what dictates time," Eragon answered slowly. "By the act of moving, you are changing your position in relation to time."
"True," Angela confirmed. "And heat?"
"It is the general estimate of how much energy and motion is inside an object."
Angela smiled at him. "Good. You are not as blockheaded as your father." She glanced around them briefly before asking, "If moving faster changes your perception of time, why could you not simply speed up your body to slow time?"
"Because," Eragon faltered, trying to convey the thoughts swirling inside his head. Arya was staring at them with a furrowed brow, and he wondered how much of the conversation she was following. "Because the amount of energy required to travel near the speed that light travels would be impossible to achieve, and the amount of heat you would generate would probably kill you."
"It would kill you," Angela retorted. "Never try that approach. It would be a painful death, and not one that I recommend. How, then, does one's perception of time change?"
"By affect the Lengr-Ginnug around yourself."
Angela scowled at him and muttered, "A thousand spider bites on that damned hermit. Him and his clever words." She let out a sigh before relaxing her posture, her arms dropping down to her side. She inclined her head at him, "But yes, you are correct. Affecting the curvature of time and space around you is what allows the spell to work."
"Can you show me?" Eragon asked, hoping his face did not betray his excitement. Never had he seen such a spell before, and he was eager to try it."
"I could," Angela answered softly, "but the energy required is more than I could give, and if I tried it more than once I could severely injure myself." Her gaze carted up and down his figure again, and a speculative look rose on her face. "You, however, might be able to use it to a greater advantage then me. Very well, I will couch you on its use."
Eragon turned to Arya and smiled, but she did not share in his glee. "Is it dangerous, wise one?"
The witch turned to her and tipped her head. "If he tried it himself. Tenga, my former master, nearly killed himself the first time he used it."
Eragon's gleeful expression fell. "Is that what the warning about the cat was?"
Angela burst into laughter, shaking her head all the while. "No, no, no. That was something else, but the time limit he described is accurate." The witch cut her hand across the air, brushing aside the question that was forming on Eragon's lips. "If you wish to learn how to master this spell, then listen closely. The spell afflicts an area around your body, altering your travel through time and space. Do not feed more energy into the spell then is required. You would suffer a fate worse than you could imagine, and quite possibly destroy a sizable chunk of the land around you. The same goes for the warning Tenga described; inside the spell, you cannot, under any circumstances, allow more than a minute to pass. Not only would the spell kill you, but the same disaster would strike as feeding the spell all your strength."
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the worried frown that Arya gave the witch. "If the spell is so dangerous," Eragon asked, "then why even use it?"
Angela smiled. "It is only dangerous in the hands of those who do not know how to use it. With my help, such a disaster will never happen." Angela clapped her hands, "Now that you have heard my warnings, I want you to cast the spell. Only allow a trickle of energy to start with, and then slowly expand the amount until you see the effects."
At Eragon's curious look, Angela waved her hand. "You will see, trust me. For this first time, the moment you see the spell work you are to stop and maintain it."
Eragon nodded, taking a step back from the others.
"Remember to count!" Angela exclaimed before Eragon opened his mouth. "The wording of the spell means you can dissipate it immediately, but for now only try for thirty seconds!"
He gave her another nod before inhaling deeply, calming his mind as he recalled the words for the spell.
Be careful, Saphira suddenly advised, her mind brushing against his before retreating. He had hardly noticed her presence before, caught up in Angela's questions.
Slowly, and with great care he spoke, and the whole while he could see the careful attention Angela paid to his words. The spell was surprising short for something so complicated, but the moment he uttered the last word he felt his energy dip significantly.
1…
Nothing seemed to happen. Eragon cast his gaze around him and frowned, feeling the spell slowly leaching his strength. Angela gave him a short nod of encouragement, and Eragon slowly opened the gates in the part of his mind that housed his magic. The moment it cracked slightly felt to him as though he were holding back a flowing river, the magic eager to join the unleashed spell.
..5…
His gaze was locked Arya and Angela before him, who were staring at him intently. It was only when his eyes flicked towards a moving patrol behind them did he realize something was different. The soldiers moved as though they were traveling through water, each of their steps taking too long to reach the ground. The low murmur of the Varden that was ever present stretched out, distorted, and it sent shivers racing down his spine.
Turning his head, Eragon peered at the other soldiers he could see through the sea of tents. Everyone he observed behaved the same as the soldiers on patrol, their movements taking longer than it should have been necessary to complete the motion. A powerful sense of wrongness rose inside, and he could feel a firm pressure pressing on him from all sides.
..15...
He turned back towards the two waiting women and took a step towards them, and he nearly startled when their delayed eyes fought to meet his own. Arya's emerald eyes were wide, even as her frown deepened, and he opened his mouth to reassure her. It was only then he realized the amount of energy he was expending; he could feel his hands slightly shake, and the edges of his vision started to narrow. The pressure he felt earlier began to grow, and Eragon got the sudden sense that it was though the world itself was trying to push back against him.
He cut the flow of energy, and with a snap the world sharpened into focus. Eragon's knees trembled as he drew in great heaves of breath, and at once he felt a gentle hand on his back while another held his shoulder firmly.
Arya blinked down at him, the frown from earlier gone. Only her worry over him showed now, though her eyes were wide with startled delight. "Are you alright?" she asked him. Giving her a slight nod, Eragon drew himself upwards. His shaking hands settled, though his heart continued to pound in his chest. Arya did not release him fully, her strong grip tightening despite his words.
Angela was beaming at him. "Not bad for your first attempt! How do you feel?"
"Fine," Eragon ground out, trying to calm his racing heart.
He felt only slightly drained from the spell, and he figured within a few minutes he would be ready for another attempt. The amount of strength required to maintain it was still staggering; he did not know long passed on the outside, but the scant few seconds the spell was active for him felt as though he were trying to lift Saphira himself.
I am not that heavy, Saphira snorted in his mind, even as he felt her examining him closely through their bond.
Eragon bit back a chuckle. No, of course not. Closing his eyes, he could feel himself regaining his strength. Did you feel anything?
Not directly. Saphira paused. We were right to close our minds to each other. Even through our bond your mind felt… as though it were moving far too quickly.
He nodded his head, knowing that she would be able to sense the motion through their joined minds. Good, he murmured back to her. I was worried how it might affect you.
She snorted again. I am fine.
Eragon smiled and opened his eyes. A familiar curly haired witch stood inches from his face and would have jumped back in shock were it not for Arya's firm hand on his shoulder. "Quite an experience, isn't it?" Angela stated.
"Aye," Eragon swallowed. His eyes darted over to Arya next to him, and he could see her watching him closely despite the curious look that was taking hold. "I've never experienced anything like it before."
The witch smiled. "Ready to try again?"
"One moment," Eragon said. Arya's hand tightened on his shoulder, and he met her gaze firmly. "I'm alright," he told her, and he let a small smile appear to ease her worry. "It took more strength than I thought."
Arya gave him a sharp nod, her worried expression fading and leaving behind a curious look of wonderment.
Angela laughed, drawing both of their attention. "Yes, it does. Now you see why it is something I only ever try to do once. Both your bond with Saphira and the transformation the dragons gave you lends you strength that very few could ever possibly hope to possess. Very few others could ever hope to use such a spell successfully without killing themselves."
"What," Eragon began, "was that strange feeling I felt? It was as though-"
"A force was trying to ground you into dust?" Angela finished for him, her jovial expression falling into a more serious one. "You are perverting the very fabric of time. Would you not expect all of totality to try to right such a wrong? It is one of the very reasons for Tenga's warning."
Eragon nodded his understanding. It was a strange experience, and not one he wished to repeat. Still, if he wanted to master the spell, it would be a sensation he needed to get used to.
"This time," Angela advised, "Allow more energy to flow into the spell. Do so until all around your life slows to a crawl. But know this: The more you alter the curvature around you, the harder the world will fight back against you. Do not maintain it for long. A few seconds should do." To Arya, the witch said, "Draw your blade."
Arya nodded, drawing Támerlein from the sheathe on her waist. She took a few steps away from them and held the blade up before her, and at Angela's nod Eragon did the same with his sword. Holding Brisingr up before him, Eragon quirked a brow at the witch. "What now? Do you intend for us to spar?"
Angela smirked. "Nothing like a trial by fire." She took a few steps back and said to Arya, "When he finishes casting I want you to attack. For you, Eragon, your only goal is to disarm her."
They both nodded, and he could see the familiar spark in Arya's eyes that she got whenever they dueled. They warded their blades in unison, the familiar practice making Eragon remember the first time that they had sparred. He met her fierce stare and readied himself, closing off his mind and casting away his thoughts of the past.
"Whenever you're ready," Angela said to him.
Taking a calming breath, Eragon recited the spell. As soon as the last syllable left his lips Arya sprang forward, Támerlein arching towards him. On instinct he parried her blade, and he nearly stumbled when at the same moment his strength flagged as the spell took hold.
"Focus!" Angela called out.
..1..
Gritting his teeth, Eragon parried her next few blows, his arm trembling slightly from her strength. Though he was usually the stronger of the two, his previous use of Tenga's spell hampered him. Carefully, he allowed more of his energy to leak into the spell, parrying Arya's blade once more. He refrained from attacking as he tried to judge how much energy it would take to reach his desired effect.
..10..
It did not happen all at once, but each time Brisingr met Támerlein Eragon could see Arya's movements drag. Meeting her strikes became easier despite how swift he knew Arya truly was, and he opened the gates in his mind to allow more energy to spill forth into the spell.
..20..
Arya seemed to freeze in front of him, Támerlein held in an underhand strike that he instinctually made to block. Her blade did not wobble in the slightest in the strange position she was in, and the fierce glare she wore was locked onto him.
Blinking his eyes, he took a startled look around him.
Nothing moved.
At all.
Angela was stuck smiling at them, her gaze unwavering, and when Eragon's gaze moved to the Varden behind her he could see similarly that all of them were frozen in place. The gentle murmur of daily life fell away, and the lack of all normal sound made his ears sting.
..25..
His heart began to pound with the fierce sense of wrong, and he could feel the steady stream of energy leaving him making his arms and vision shake. The pressure, which had been lurking in the background during the duel, grew stronger. It pressed down on him from all sides and nearly made him gasp from the effort, but he clenched his mouth firmly and recalled his goal for this strange experience.
Arya, frozen before him, was a vision of such fierceness that he wanted nothing more than to linger in this moment. He stepped close to her, Brisingr falling to his side, and reached out a steady hand towards her blade.
..30..
His vision was beginning to waiver, the energy the spell demanded draining him quickly. With his free hand he grabbed Támerlein and tugged, surprised when the blade remained firm in her grip. He debated for a moment yanking hard, but he did not want to inadvertently injure Arya, so he instead dropped Brisingr on the ground and reached his other hand towards her fingers.
The moment Brisingr left his hand the sword froze in the air, and Eragon would have marveled at the sight were it not for how his hands shook. With one hand firmly on Támerlein he began to pry her fingers open, glad when it seemed that she could not resist his movements.
..35...
The pressure was nearly crushing, and it felt as though the very world vibrated from its immensity, but Eragon was able to finally release her grip on the sword. He drew her sword away from her with one hand, his other hand reaching up to towards her frozen face. Reverently, he brushed his fingers across her check before cutting the flow of energy.
Two things happened at once; Brisingr came crashing to the ground, and Arya collided into Eragon. His legs gave out immediately, and the two of them followed his sword down onto the dirt. It was only the ward on her sword that stopped either of them from being sliced open by the blade. Eragon's vision danced before him, and he would have let out a loud laugh were it not for the heaves of air he needed to take.
Arya pushed herself off him, blinking down at him in surprise. He must have seemed a sight, as she immediately pressed her hand to his forehead and channeled some energy into him. He let out a relieved sigh, his shaking limbs settling down. He closed his eyes as the knots in his muscles loosened, the cool wash of her magic and her presence calming.
When he opened his eyes Eragon could see Arya staring down at him. "What is it?" he quietly asked her.
She blinked at him. "The way you moved," Arya shook her head. "All I saw was a flicker of movement before it was over."
Eragon smiled. "It felt much longer to me."
The loud clapping of hands made both startle, and Arya stood and helped Eragon to his feet. He leaned heavily on her on unsteady feet as Angela approached, the witch wearing a wide smile. "Well?" Angela asked, "How did it feel?"
"I.." Eragon began, before blurting, "Wrong."
Angela nodded, even as Arya gave him an uncertain glance. "Yes, that does happen. Being taken from the normal flow of time can cause extreme sense of impending doom, and the awful pressure certainly does not help."
Impending doom, Eragon thought to himself. It certainly felt like it. It was powerful magic, and not something he wanted to use unless necessary. Even as his body shuddered at the thought, his mind did not stop conjuring situations in which such a spell might prove useful.
Saphira's mind pressed into him, and he opened his thoughts to her. She examined his memory of the events silently, channeling some more strength into him. He sent a wave of gratitude towards her, her familiar presence easing the inherent wrongness that the spell had inflicted on him.
"Do you feel as though you could do it again today?" Angela asked.
"No," Eragon stated quickly, unsure where the realization came from. The thought of casting the spell once more made him shiver, and the arm Arya braced around him tightened.
"Hmm." Angela hummed, her finger tapping her chin. "Twice in one day is surprising, at the very least. Especially for your first time. If you wish to use the spell more, you will need to practice."
Eragon swallowed heavily, leaning on Arya's strength as he tried to bow to the witch. "Thank you, Angela, for your help."
The witch reached up towards him and patted his cheek lightly, smiling at him. "One day, perhaps, I will teach you more, but today I think we both need our rest."
Eragon nodded, and Arya did the same. "Wise one," she said in parting, and the two of them watched together as Angela waved at them before returning to her tent.
He turned and smiled at Arya, and she shared a small one with him as she led them over to gather their discarded swords. Then, with Eragon leaning heavily on Arya, they trotted slowly through the encampment until they reached their shared tent.
Sitting on his cot was a relief, and Eragon exhaled heavily as he slumped backwards. Arya stood over him and peered down at him, her eyes flicking over his unmoving form quickly. "How do you feel?" she questioned quietly.
"Tired," he answered, closing his eyes. He resisted the pull of sleep, smiling contently when the cot dipped slightly from Arya's weight. Her hand gently ran over his arm, the soothing motion sending tingles racing up and down his limb.
"I have never seen such a thing before," Arya admitted.
"Neither have I."
"Do you believe you will ever have need of it?"
"Possibly," Eragon stated. "I'm not even sure Galbatorix knows of it, though if the Ra'zac's warning is true, I'm not sure how we could ever use it against him."
Even without looking, Eragon could tell that she raised one of her brows at him. Quickly, he reminded her of Galbatorix's search for the Name of Names, and he felt her hand still against his arm. "Ah," she said after he finished.
Opening his eyes, Eragon reached out and took her hand gently with his own. The troubled look on her face worried him, and Eragon softly asked, "What's wrong?"
He expected her to shake her head at him and deny his questioning, but instead Arya held his gaze firm with her own. Quieter than he had ever heard her speak before, and with a tone he did not fully recognize, Arya asked, "Do you think we can truly win?"
"I don't know," Eragon whispered back, the overwhelming odds facing them making a brief shudder run down his spine. He could feel the weight of his responsibilities bearing down on him, pressing him until he felt as though he would never escape. "But it does not matter. I cannot give up, no matter whether we succeed or not. This may be our only chance."
Arya nodded, turning her head away from him. Her hair partly obscured his vision, and she tried to pull her arm away from him. "Your right. Forgive me for asking such a thing."
He resisted her, tugging her down until she laid next to him on the cot. He leaned over until their faces were inches from each other, her sharp green eyes drawing him in. She took in a sharp breath, and Eragon could feel his heartbeat triple in his chest. "You know, you don't always have to be strong," Eragon pointed out, assessing his words. "Not in front of me."
Instead of responding, Arya tugged him down until their lips met.
Her hand was under his shirt, and his was reaching for her own tunic when a loud knock on the tent pole made them both draw away. Groaning, Eragon leaned his forehead against Arya's, closing his eyes. "Damn it," he cursed lightly.
She chuckled underneath him, the movement reverberating through her chest and into him. Dark emerald eyes peered at him, their swirling depths a temptation Eragon's not strong enough to resist. It is only when Arya takes pity on him and presses lightly on his chest does Eragon finally stand, giving the two of them a moment to collect themselves.
With a final lingering look at his mate, Eragon called out a reluctant, "Enter!"
Brom stepped through the tent flap, and behind him appeared Jeod, clutching a few books and some random bits of parchment. The scholar seemed surprised to see Arya seated on the cot, though he graciously said nothing to either of them.
His father, on the other hand, gave Eragon a smirk. "Sorry," Brom said, his tone betraying him, "did we interrupt something?"
Eager to see that another confrontation between his father and Arya not unfold in front of him, Eragon merely scowled as he shook his head. "No. What is it?"
Jeod thrust the parchment towards Eragon, a gleam in his eyes. "I've done it again!"
Taken aback, it took Eragon a moment to recall what the scholar was talking about. When he did, Eragon's eyes widened. "You did? In such a short time?"
"Aye," Jeod answered. "I was surprised as much as you, but I stumbled upon a certain passage I found rather interesting in one of the books I was perusing."
He wanted nothing more than to hear what Jeod found, but Eragon reluctantly turned his attention to his father. "Did you tell anyone else yet?
"No," Brom shook his head. "But I did call for a meeting. Nasuada and the others should be waiting for us." His father held the tent flap open as they departed, falling into place besides an excited Jeod as they moved towards the Varden's command tent.
Gathered around the table inside Nasuada's large tent were several notable people to the Varden and their allies, including the likes of Jörmundur, King Orrin, Nar Garzhvog, Grimrr Halfpaw, and one of the dwarves representing the few who remained behind with the Varden. A few were murmuring quietly as they waited for the abrupt meeting to begin, and Eragon stood silently beside Arya while Blödhgarm lingered behind them. Saphira and Fírnen had even deigned to attend, pushing their massive heads through the two opposite sides of the tent that had been cut away for them.
When the brief greetings were dispensed with, Nasuada gestured towards Eragon. "You called for this meeting, Eragon. What is it that you wish to tell us?"
He shot his father brief look, but the man merely smirked and drew out his pipe. "Some of you may already know this, but I will explain it in detail for those who do not. A few days ago, Nasuada received reports about a war between two cults in Dras-Leona. Normally, I would agree with those of you that thought this news unimportant and irrelevant to our siege, but the name of one of them concerned me deeply. The Priests of Helgrind have been pushed out of their Cathedral by a group known as Du Vættr Bani, and it is they who are responsible for the transformation Thorn underwent."
A deathly silence fell over those in attendance, and Eragon took a brief look around the room. King Orrin, who normally seemed unbothered by these meetings sat straight in his seat, his face pale and drawn. Nasuada nodded at him as his gaze passed over her, settling on Jörmundur beside her. The veteran soldier's fists were shaking, though Eragon could not tell if was from fear or rage, but the thin line of his mouth informed Eragon it might have been the latter.
Grimrr's slanted eyes betrayed nothing, though his gaze was intent on Eragon opposite him. Even Nar Garzhvog seemed perturbed by the news, shifting his weight on his feet from where he stood. From behind him he could sense Saphira's silent snarl, her rage forcing Eragon to retreat slightly from her mind.
"They are also the magicians who attempted to create a Shade during the siege of Feinster, and it was only luck that Arya, Blödhgarm, and a few others, including myself, were able to stop them."
"You believe that they will do the same here?" King Orrin asked, his words strong despite his pale look.
"Aye," Eragon answered, "I see no reason to think otherwise."
The King turned towards Nasuada, a scowl on his face. "You knew this? And you did not tell me?"
"Neither of us is in a position to openly oppose these magicians," Nasuada stated. "If they succeeded in creating another Shade, then it would fall to Eragon and the elves to deal with the creature. Our soldiers and magicians would be useless in such a fight." Turning towards Eragon, the Varden Leader asked, "I take it you have a reason to bring this up before everyone?"
"Aye," Eragon said. "It is my intention that some of us would sneak into the city before the siege and stop this cult before they have a chance to act."
"Bold," Jörmundur murmured. The veteran soldier raised a brow at Eragon. "Do you have a method in which to do so?"
To this, Eragon nodded towards the rear of the tent where Jeod stood. The man quickly rushed forward and deposited several books and scrolls on the table, organizing them in a way that made little sense to Eragon. The scholar picked up a red volume, "Some five hundred years ago, Queen Forna sent Erst Graybeard to Dras-Leona, or rather what was to become Dras-Leona."
The others seemed uninterested in the tale, but Nasuada steepled her fingers together in front of her on the table. "And why did she send him?"
"The dwarves were in the midst of a clan war, and Forna hoped that she could secure the support of our race by helping King Radgar with the planning and construction of the fortifications for the city, even as the dwarves engineered the defenses for Aroughs."
"But Dolgrath Halfstave killed Forna."
"Aye, and Erst Graybeard had no choice but to return to the Beor Mountains as fast as he could, to defend his clan from Halfstave's predations. But before he left, it seems Erst did start on his work. King Radgar's chief adviser, Lord Yardley, wrote in his memoirs that Erst had begun to draw up plans for the sewer system underneath the center of the city, since that would affect how the fortifications would be built."
The dwarf in attendance nodded in agreement. "Aye, which seems true enough. If you do not consider the type of earth you are dealing with, you are liable to have cave-ins."
"Of course, Dras-Leona does not have underground sewers. However, a few pages later, Yardley says that a few soldiers were put to work laboring underground." Jeod stated, placing the red book down before picking up another massive wood-paneled tome. "Now, what could they be excavating? I was unable to find any further mention of subterranean activities in or around Dras-Leona until I happened to be perusing The Acts of Taradas and Other Mysteries of Occult Phenomena as Recorded Throughout the Ages of Men, Dwarves, and the Most Ancient of Elves."
"It's a work filled with mistakes," Arya argued from besides Eragon. Her brows were drawn in and her arms were stiff from where she leaned against the table. "The author knew little of my people, and what he did not know, he invented."
"That may be, but he knew a great deal about humans," Jeod said. The scholar opened the book, laying it flat on the table. He turned the pages a few times until he reached the passage he was looking for before stating, "During his investigations, Othman spent some time in this region. He mainly studied Helgrind and the strange happenings associated with it, but he also had this to say about Dras-Leona: The people of the city also often complain of peculiar sounds and odors wafting up from under their streets and floors, especially at night, which they attribute to hosts and spirits and other uncanny creatures, but if they are spirits, they are unlike any I have heard of before, as spirits elsewhere seem to avoid enclosed spaces."
"So, you believe that there are indeed tunnels underneath Dras-Leona," Nasuada hazarded.
Jeod nodded and closed the book. "I do. Fortunately, Othman was nothing if not thorough, and he marked the locations of the sounds on a map of Dras-Leona, where they form a nearly straight line through the old part of the city."
"Nothing you have shown us so far, Goodman Jeod, has yet to prove that this is a tunnel." King Orrin stated. "If there is a space under the city, it might very well be a cellar or catacomb, or some other chamber that leads only to the buildings above. Even if it is a tunnel, we do not know if it exits anywhere outside the city. What's more, by your own account, it's likely the construction of this hypothetical tunnel was never completed in the first place."
Jeod made to speak, but Eragon interrupted him. "No cellar or catacomb would be so long or narrow. If the tunnel was not completed in Othman's time to at least some degree, then it would have been destroyed long ago. As for the entrance, one end extends past the walls of the city to the eastern side, so that is where we are likely to find it."
"How large do you think this tunnel would be?" Nasuada asked.
The single dwarf in attendance pulled on his bushy beard. "I am unsure, my lady. I do not know well enough the earth here, and I am unskilled in such matters. When my kin arrive in a few days' time, we will be better able to tell you how one would build underground here."
Nasuada nodded. "We are waiting for Orik's arrival regardless, so it stands that we can wait for them to tells us as well." To Eragon, she asked, "Who will you take with you?"
"That remains to be seen, but likely Arya, Glenwing, and one of Blödhgarm's spellcasters." Pausing to think for a moment, Eragon considered the detailed map of Dras-Leona before them. His eyes lingered on the proposed exit to the tunnel, as well as the Cathedral and gates to the city. "It might be feasible that we would be able to open the gates as well, if we are able to deal with the magicians in time."
"I have no doubt of your ability, Eragon. What will the dragons do in the meantime?"
Saphira snorted, drawing everyone's attention behind Eragon. Fírnen might be able to fit in some of the narrower streets, but I cannot. I will deal with all who oppose us from atop the walls and buildings, and once Eragon emerges victorious I will take him directly to the heart of the city.
From the opposite side of the tent, Fírnen stretched his mind out until he touched all of those inside the tent. The deep voice of the dragon startled most of them, but it reminded Eragon greatly of Glaedr. If Saphira will take to the skies, then I will fight on the ground with the soldiers. If it is amendable, Blödhgarm-elda, I would like for you to fight with me until my Rider returns.
Blödhgarm, who stood situated next to Saphira's massive head, bowed lowly. "I would be honored, Grœnnskular," the furred elf purred.
"Any more decisions cannot be made until Orik arrives with his warriors, and we may have to wait another day or so for them to recover after their march." Nasuada stood from her chair, and the others followed behind her. "Until then."
By slow procession they exited the tent, low murmurs of discussion filling the air. Once Eragon and Arya were outside they moved towards where Saphira and Fírnen had gathered. Together they walked through the tents towards the open space that had been given for them, and Saphira's mind gently touched Eragon's.
You will be outside my help when fighting this cult, Saphira growled. And Glaedr's.
I know, he answered. I have my store of energy in Brisingr, but I can add more to it if it will make you feel better.
She snorted aloud, startling a few of the Varden soldiers they passed on their walk. It would, but I would wish you were able to take Glaedr with you. If I cannot help you, then he could.
Eragon frowned. I cannot just walk around with a giant golden Eldunarí. What would I tell the others? That it is my magical stone?
A rumbling laughter reverberated from Saphira, the pitch low and causing many more soldiers to glance their way. Perhaps that hermit may know of a way.
Maybe.
A few key notes:
The conversation from Jeod was taken mainly from Inheritance, so CP deserves all the credit for that.
Again, I'm really sorry that this chapter is a few days late, but life has gotten pretty busy the last week. I'm not sure if the next chapter will also be delayed, but I just want you all to know that I am still working on this story, even if takes a while lol. What's another year? (jk, hopefully it doesn't take that long.)
The answer Angela gave in Inheritance on how the "time spell" works is interesting, as it seems to suggest that she sped up her movements to such a degree that time essentially slowed. The only thing with that is that the amount of energy required to move that fast is nearly impossible: the more you try to reach the speed of light, the more energy is required. Obviously she might not have been altering time, but from the conversation it seemed to indicate that she was. Because such little information was given, I decided to go another route: their is time distortion that occurs as you reach the speed of light, but also gravitational distortion, which is similar to what happens around black holes. I'm not a physicist, nor do I claim to have a better understanding of general and special relativity than anyone else, but hopefully what I wrote in the chapter makes at least some sense.
As for the time limit and pressure that Eragon experiences; it would make intuitive sense that altering the fabric of space-time would be, you know, bad, so its not inconceivable that Tenga would want to limit how long such a thing occurred, and that the spacetime bent by the planet they inhabit wouldn't mesh well with the anomaly Eragon essentially creates. At least, that's the reasoning I'm giving here, lol.
Let me know what you guys think! Any and all reviews help, and let me know how you guys feel about the story.
Until next time!
Ancient Language translations (Old Norse):
Italics represents the Old Norse translation; Bold represents Ancient Language.
Fyrir Neðan – Below Something. Fallen One
Du vættr Bani – The Bane of Spirits: Name of the Brotherhood
Vættr - being, creature; supernatural being, spirit
Bani - death; bane, cause of death, slayer
Skörungr – leader, notable or outstanding person, paragon. Title for Leader of the Riders; given as an honor.
Guliä waíse medh ono, Skörungr - Luck be with you, Leader.
Grœnn – green. Verdant. More accurately, color of the forest.
Grœnnskular – Verdant-scales.
Lengr – For a longer time
Ginnung – space, void
Lengr-Ginnug – Spacetime Tenga's definition of Space and Time as one concept