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RedSovereign88: There will be dragon shouts, so don't worry.
Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls or The Inheritance Cycle.
When Daemon woke, the first thing he instantly noticed was that he was human again. The second thing he noticed instantly was that he was naked as the day he was born. Curing under his breath, he got to his feet and ran over to Shadowmere, taking some spare clothing out of his saddlebag and putting the clothes and undergarments on. Once fully dressed and feeling like himself, as well as grabbing his swords, Daemon took the chance to look himself over. His body had one through some changes that hadn't been there before he had transformed into a dragon. His black hair had silver tips, shining like his scales do in the sun. He was only slightly taller than before, but noticeably more muscular than he had been. The years of fighting and training in his life had given him a set of lean muscles, but now they were slightly more defined, especially in his torso, chest and arms, and denser than previous inspection. He felt stronger than ever before.
He also found that his senses were far keener and better than ever before. He could hear like a dragon, had the sense of smell like a dragon, and the eyes of a dragon.
Perhaps now that his dragon side had fully awakened, so had his true strength and potential.
Turning back to his sword, Daemon looked at his reflection in his sword, the colouring of the blade reflecting his image perfectly and his eyes widened when he saw that his eyes were no longer dark blue... but silver-blue, clearly another change from his transformation into a dragon.
Daemon placed the sword in it's sheath and strapped it, as well as his second sword, to his waist. He got to making his breakfast as Brom soon woke and joined him.
"I see you've graced us mortals with your presence, Daemon." Brom said with a small grin. "How was the feeling of being a dragon?"
Daemon shook his head with a grin. "Words cannot describe it clearly. But I felt so... complete. Maybe that's because my dragon soul i overjoyed at having been free from the chains of confinement. I feel more relaxed, at peace, like a normal person."
Soon enough, Eragon and Saphira awakened , and were similarly surprised and pleased at the news. They too noticed his changed appearance.
After Eragon had his breakfast, he began getting ready for his flight with Saphira. Eragon silently picked up his bow and went to Saphira. Brom said, "Now remember, grip with your knees, guide her with your thoughts, and stay as flat as you can on her back. Nothing will go wrong if you don't panic." Eragon nodded, sliding his unstrung bow into its leather tube, and Brom boosted him into the saddle.
Saphira waited impatiently while Eragon tightened the bands around his legs. Are you ready? she asked.
He sucked in the fresh morning air. No, but let's do it! She agreed enthusiastically. He braced himself as she crouched. Her powerful legs surged and the air whipped past him, snatching his breath away. With three smooth strokes of her wings, she was in the sky, climbing rapidly.
The last time Eragon had ridden Saphira, every flap of her wings had been strained. Now she flew steadily and effortlessly. He clenched his arms around her neck as she turned on edge, banking. The river shrank to a wispy gray line beneath them. Clouds floated around them.
When they leveled off high above the plains, the trees below were no more than specks. The air was thin, chilly, and perfectly clear. "This is wonderfu—" His words were lost as Saphira tilted and rolled completely around. The ground spun in a dizzying circle, and vertigo clutched Eragon. "Don't do that!" he cried. "I feel like I'm going to fall off."
You must become accustomed to it. If I'm attacked in the air, that's one of the simplest maneuvers I will do, she replied. He could think of no rebuttal, so he concentrated on controlling his stomach. Saphira angled into a shallow dive and slowly approached the ground.
Although Eragon's stomach lurched with every wobble, he began to enjoy himself. He relaxed his arms a bit and stretched his neck back, taking in the scenery. Saphira let him enjoy the sights awhile, then said, Let me show you what flying is really like.
How? he asked.
Relax and do not be afraid, she said.
Her mind tugged at his, pulling him away from his body. Eragon fought for a moment, then surrendered control. His vision blurred, and he found himself looking through Saphira's eyes. Everything was distorted: colors had weird, exotic tints; blues were more prominent now, while greens and reds were subdued. Eragon tried to turn his head and body but could not. He felt like a ghost who had slipped out of the ether.
Pure joy radiated from Saphira as she climbed into the sky. She loved this freedom to go anywhere. When they were high above the ground, she looked back at Eragon. He saw himself as she did, hanging on to her with a blank look. He could feel her body strain against the air, using updrafts to rise. All her muscles were like his own. He felt her tail swinging through the air like a giant rudder to correct her course. It surprised him how much she depended on it.
Their connection grew stronger until there was no distinction between their identities. They clasped their wings together and dived straight down, like a spear thrown from on high. No terror of falling touched Eragon, engulfed as he was in Saphira's exhilaration. The air rushed past their face. Their tail whipped in the air, and their joined minds reveled in the experience.
Even as they plummeted toward the ground, there was no fear of collision. They snapped open their wings at just the right moment, pulling out of the dive with their combined strength. Slanting toward the sky, they shot up and continued back over into a giant loop.
As they leveled out, their minds began to diverge, becoming distinct personalities again. For a split second, Eragon felt both his body and Saphira's. Then his vision blurred and he again sat on her back. He gasped and collapsed on the saddle. It was minutes before his heart stopped hammering and his breathing calmed. Once he had recovered, he exclaimed, That was incredible! How can you bear to land when you enjoy flying so much?
I must eat, she said with some amusement. But I am glad that you took pleasure in it.
Those are spare words for such an experience. I'm sorry I haven't flown with you more; I never thought it could be like that. Do you always see so much blue?
It is the way I am. We will fly together more often now?
Yes! Every chance we get.
Good, she replied in a contented tone.
They exchanged many thoughts as she flew, talking as they had not for weeks. Saphira showed Eragon how she used hills and trees to hide and how she could conceal herself in the shadow of a cloud. They scouted the trail for Brom and Daemon, which proved to be more arduous than Eragon expected. They could not see the path unless Saphira flew very close to it, in which case she risked being detected.
As midday neared, Brom and Daemon came across a most unusual sight. They had been following the trail left behind by the Ra'zac, but it ended in a jumble of larger tracks and other markings in a clearing. Dismounting the horses, they approached the trail and examined it, Daemon examining a path of it as he gently ran his fingers down it.
"Most peculiar". He muttered before glancing at Brom. "Have you ever seen tracks like these before?"
"No, and this could mean a serious problem for us. Now we have no trial to follow." The man's features tightened into a scowl and then he swore. "Ah! That boy is blocking me out, I can't contact him." Brom let out a few more choice curses after this. "Can you try and contact them for me?
Daemon nodded before he extended his mind towards Eragon's only to be met with similar resistance. Rather than fighting with him, he opted to try Saphira instead. The dragoness instantly recognised his mind and allowed him entry to speak with her, so he told her of what he and Brom had found and showed her an image of where they were so Eragon and Saphira can meet them. She acknowledged saying they would be there shortly.
Arriving where their companions were stopped, Eragon and Saphira were quickly filled in on the findings.
Eragon knelt and examined the dirt and found a confusion of impressions that were difficult to decipher. Numerous Ra'zac footprints overlapped each other. Eragon guessed that the tracks were only a few days old. Superimposed over them were long, thick gouges torn into the ground. They looked familiar, but Eragon could not say why.
He stood, shaking his head. "I don't have any idea what... " Then his eyes fell on Saphira and he realized what had made the gouges. Every time she took off, her back claws dug into the ground and ripped it in the same manner. "This doesn't make any sense, but the only thing I can think of is that the Ra'zac flew off on dragons. Or else they got onto giant birds and disappeared into the heavens. Tell me you have a better explanation."
Daemon shook his head. "I got nothing."
Brom shrugged. "I've heard reports of the Ra'zac moving from place to place with incredible speed, but this is the first evidence I've had of it. It will be almost impossible to find them if they have flying steeds. They aren't dragons—I know that much. A dragon would never consent to bear a Ra'zac."
"What do we do? Saphira can't track them through the sky. Even if she could, we would leave you far behind."
"There's no easy solution to this riddle," said Brom. "Let's have lunch while we think on it. Perhaps inspiration will strike us while we eat."
Eragon felt defeated. They had come this far, only to be left behind. He didn't know what to do now. He could return to Carvahall, but he had run away from everyone and everything he knew there. As far as it was concerned, that part of his life was gone. The other option was to continue to travel with Brom and continue his training.
After voicing his concerns to Daemon, the Dragonborn gave his opinion. "Could you really go back there now after all that's happened to you? Trust me, when I started adventuring and moving... I never felt like stopping. I enjoyed the life of an adventurer, and I still do. We've started something Eragon, we should see it through. It's your choice, and I'll be with you whatever you decide, but I say we keep going." Saphira confirmed this with a snort and encouraging words of her own; they were sticking together regardless.
Eragon walked away to clear his head. Just as he was about to enter the trees, his foot struck something hard. Lying on the ground was a metal flask with a leather strap just long enough to hang off someone's shoulder. A silver insignia Eragon recognized as the Ra'zac's symbol was wrought into it.
Excited, he picked up the flask and unscrewed its cap. A cloying smell filled the air—the same one he had noticed when he found Garrow in the wreckage of their house. He tilted the flask, and a drop of clear, shiny liquid fell on his finger. Instantly Eragon's finger burned as if it were on fire. He yelped and scrubbed his hand on the ground. After a moment the pain subsided to a dull throbbing. A patch of skin had been eaten away.
He ran back to Brom and Daemon, showing them what he found. Daemon took the flask, opened it and sniffed it before he grimaced. "That smell is worse than some of the catacombs I've been in."
Brom took the flask and examined it, then poured a bit of the liquid into the cap. Eragon started to warn him, "Watch out, it'll burn—"
"My skin, I know," said Brom. "And I suppose you went ahead and poured it all over your hand. Your finger? Well, at least you showed sense enough not to drink it. Only a puddle would have been left of you."
Daemon snorted, getting a look from Eragon but the Dragonborn's focus was on Brom. "What even is it? I've never seen whatever that is before, not even in Skyrim."
"Oil from the petals of the Seithr plant, which grows on a small island in the frigid northern seas. In its natural state, the oil is used for preserving pearls—it makes them lustrous and strong. But when specific words are spoken over the oil, along with a blood sacrifice, it gains the property to eat any flesh. That alone wouldn't make it special—there are plenty of acids that can dissolve sinew and bone—except for the fact that it leaves everything else untouched. You can dip anything into the oil and pull it out unharmed, unless it was once part of an animal or human. This has made it a weapon of choice for torture and assassination. It can be stored in wood, slathered on the point of a spear, or dripped onto sheets so that the next person to touch them will be burned. There are myriad uses for it, limited only by your ingenuity. Any injury caused by it is always slow to heal. It's rather rare and expensive, especially this converted form."
As they debated on their next move to find the Ra'zac, Daemon was thinking things over in his head. He went back over Brom's explanation of the Seithr oil. It's used as polish. There's nothing special about that. But it is enchanted with magic. There's something there. And it's grown somewhere far north, making it extremely ra- The answer hit him like a Giant's club smacking into his chest and he knew how that felt.
"I know how to find the Ra'zac."
As if all their minds were synced, Brom and Eragon and Saphira replied, "You do?!"
Daemon nodded his head, a grin smiled upon his face.
"How do we find the Ra'zac?" Eragon asked.
The Dragonborn held up the flask. "With this."
"How's that going to help us find the Ra'zac?" Brom interjected with a confused frown.
"You explained it yourself Brom. What is seithr oil? It's used as a polish for jewelry until it's enchanted. More importantly, it grows from the sleithr plant far in the North. It makes it rare. Perhaps extremely rare…"
Eragon's face lit up in shock. "If the oil is rare then there must be only a few traders that market it. Which means that if we find the records of the oil being sold, we can track it to the Ra'zac!"
Daemon nodded. "When you need to track someone down, it's better to track the source of hat they buy and you'll get their location."
"That's brilliant thinking! I don't know why I've never thought of that before. Had I known, I would have hunted the Ra'zac down long ago and rid the world of those fowl demons." Brom said.
"Where does most of the trade occur in the Empire?" Daemon asked Brom.
"The port city of Teirm. Ships sail in from the northern and southern regions of the Empire to unload their goods for the market. Our best luck to find the shipping records of the seithr oil will be there. It's also quite fortunate that we head to Teirm actually."
"Why's that?" Eragon said.
"I have an old acquaintance who manages a trading company, if he is still living in the city. He could help us in our search."
"Sounds like a plan. How long will it take us to get to Teirm?" Daemon asked.
"Within a week, we should reach a pass in the Spine that will lead us to the coast. From there we follow the coast up until we hit Teirm. If we angle westward away from the Ninor here, we should be able to see the mountains by end of tomorrow."
"Then I'll see you two at dinner tonight." Eragon called as he climbed back aboard Saphira. They took off and spent the rest of the day flying. When they settled at camp for the night, he and Daemon both had a nightly fight with Brom, and with each other.
After they had worn themselves out, they laid themselves down for the night...
And that's it for this chapter everyone.
