Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls or The Inheritance Cycle.


The next day while they were riding, Eragon asked his companions, "What is the sea like?"

Daemon and Brom, who had been talking about the Dragon Riders' history, stopped their conversation to look at him. "You've never seen the sea before?" Daemon asked with a bit of shock as Eragon shook his head.

"Has it not ever been described to you?" Brom asked.

"It has, but what's it like?" Eragon asked.

"I've only been out at sea a few times, when I journeyed to the island of Solstheim to face Miraak." Daemon said, his mind going back to that day when two of Miraak's cultists tried to kill him in Whiterun one morning, leading him to taking a ship to Solstheim to investigate. "The sea is beautiful."

Brom nodded in agreement. "The sea is emotion incarnate. It loves, hates, and weeps. It defies all attempts to capture it with words and rejects all shackles. No matter what you say about it, there is always that which you can't. Do you remember what I told you about how the elves came over the sea?"

"Yes."

"Though they live far from the coast, they retain a great fascination and passion for the ocean. The sound of crashing waves, the smell of salt air, it affects them deeply and has inspired many of their loveliest songs."

Daemon chuckled a little, that was an understatement. When he took a ship, the crew sang any song that came to mind, but they liked to sing about the Dragonborn and Alduin's defeat. Daemon doubted anyone in Skyrim will forget what he's done.


The Spine was a faint outline on the horizon when they halted that evening. When they arrived at the Spine's foothills, they turned and followed the mountains south. Days passed quickly as they continued to trek along the Spine, searching for the mountain pass. As the days passed, Brom taught the Eragon and Daemon about the Ancient Language, their knowledge of it growing with each passing day.

Their knowledge in the language wasn't the only thing that had grown, Eragon's skills with a sword were growing with each spar he had with Brom and Daemon.

After two days in the Spine, they came upon a rock ledge from which they could see clearly out of the mountains. Eragon noticed how the land flattened in the distance, and he groaned at the leagues they still had to traverse. Brom pointed. "Down there and to the north lies Teirm. It is an old city. Some say it's where the elves first landed in Alagaësia. Its citadel has never fallen, nor have its warriors ever been defeated." He spurred Snowfire forward and left the ledge.

It took them until noon the next day to descend through the foothills and arrive at the other side of the Spine, where the forested land quickly leveled out. Without the mountains to hide behind, Saphira flew close to the ground, using every hollow and dip in the land to conceal herself.

Beyond the forest, they noticed a change. The countryside was covered with soft turf and heather that their feet sank into. Moss clung to every stone and branch and lined the streams that laced the ground. Pools of mud pocked the road where horses had trampled the dirt. Before long Daemon, Eragon and Brom were splattered with grime.

"Why is everything green?" asked Eragon. "Don't they have winter here?"

"Yes, but the season is mild. Mist and fog roll in from the sea and keep everything alive. Some find it to their liking, but to me it's dreary and depressing."

When evening fell, they set up camp in the driest spot they could find. As they ate, Brom commented, "You two should continue to ride Cadoc and Shadowmere until we reach Teirm." This got grumbles from Daemon and Ergon. Eragon because he wanted to go flying with Saphira, Daemon because he wanted to be a dragon again. Brom ignored their grumblings and continued. "It's likely that we'll meet other travelers now that we are out of the Spine, and it will be better if you are with me. An old man traveling alone will raise suspicion. With you at my side, no one will ask questions. Besides, I don't want to show up at the city and have someone who saw me on the trail wondering where you suddenly came from."

"Will we use our own names?" asked Eragon.

Brom thought about it. "We won't be able to deceive Jeod. He already knows my name, and I think I trust him with yours. But to everyone else, I will be Neal and you will be my nephews Evan and Phillip. If our tongues slip and give us away, it probably won't make a difference, but I don't want our names in anyone's heads. People have an annoying habit of remembering things they shouldn't."

"Do I look like a Phillip to you?" Daemon scoffed.

"There are several other names I could call you," Brom growled back. This earned a laugh from all around the fire. After finishing their meal, they all retreated to the warmth of their bedrolls, Saphira dropping a wing over her Eragon as he snuggled into her warm side.


After two days of traveling north toward the ocean, Saphira sighted Teirm. A heavy fog clung to the ground, obscuring the trio's sight until a breeze from the west blew the mist away. Eragon gaped as Teirm was suddenly revealed before them, nestled by the edge of the shimmering sea, where proud ships were docked with furled sails. The surf's dull thunder could be heard in the distance.

The city was contained behind a white wall—a hundred feet tall and thirty feet thick—with rows of rectangular arrow slits lining it and a walkway on top for soldiers and watchmen. The wall's smooth surface was broken by two iron portcullises, one facing the western sea, the other opening south to the road. Above the wall—and set against its northeast section—rose a huge citadel built of giant stones and turrets. In the highest tower, a lighthouse lantern gleamed brilliantly. The castle was the only thing visible over the fortifications.

To Daemon, Teirm reminded him a little bit of Whiterun, Solitude and Markath.

Soldiers guarded the southern gate but held their pikes carelessly. "This is our first test," said Brom. "Let's hope they haven't received reports of us from the Empire and won't detain us. Whatever happens, don't panic or act suspiciously."

Eragon told Saphira, You should land somewhere now and hide. We're going in.

Sticking your noses where it doesn't belong. Again, she said sourly.

I know. But the three of us do have some advantages most people don't. We'll be all right.

If anything happens, I'm going to pin you to my back and never let you off.

We love you too, Saphira. Daemon remarked dryly.

Then I will bind you all the tighter, hatchlings.

They rode toward the gate, trying to appear casual. A yellow pennant bearing the outline of a roaring lion and an arm holding a lily blossom waved over the entrance. As they neared the wall, Eragon asked in amazement, "How big is this place?"

"Larger than any city you have ever seen," said Brom.

"Seen bigger cities than this." Daemon retorted.

At the entrance to Teirm, the guards stood straighter and blocked the gate with their pikes. "Wha's yer name?" asked one of them in a bored tone.

"I'm called Neal," said Brom in a wheezy voice, slouching to one side, an expression of happy idiocy on his face.

"And who's th' other ones?" asked the guard.

"Well, I wus gettin' to that. This'ed be m'nephews Evan n' Phillip. They's m'sister's boys, not a..."

The guard nodded impatiently. "Yeah, yeah. And yer business here?"

"We's visitin an old friend," supplied Eragon, dropping his voice into a thick accent. "We's be along t' make sure don't get lost, if y' get m' meaning."

"Aye, he ain't as young as he used to be," Daemon joined in, struggling not to grin. "Touch o' the brain fever, y'know?" Brom bobbed his head pleasantly at this.

"Right, go on in." The guard waved them through and dropped his pike. "Just make sure he don't cause no trouble."

"Oh, he won't." They promised. Daemon urged Shadowmere forward and they finally entered Teirm. Once they were a good distance from the guards, Brom sat up and growled,

"Touch of brain fever?"

"Wasn't letting you have all the fun." Daemon smirked as Eragon laughed. Brom harrumphed and looked away.

The houses were grim and foreboding. Small, deep windows let in only sparse rays of light. Narrow doors were recessed into the buildings. The tops of the roofs were flat—except for metal railings—and all were covered with slate shingles. Eragon noticed that the houses closest to Teirm's outer wall were no more than one story, but the buildings got progressively higher as they went in. Those next to the citadel were tallest of all, though insignificant compared to the fortress.

"This place looks ready for war," said Eragon.

"I've seen cities preparing for that." Daemon said, remembering when Whiterun prepared itself for an assault by the Stormcloaks, with the Imperials defending the city. Daemon hadn't joined any side, but Whiterun had become his home so he defended the city... though it made him an enemy of Ulfric Stormcloak.

Brom nodded. "Teirm has a history of being attacked by pirates, Urgals, and other enemies. It has long been a center of commerce. There will always be conflict where riches gather in such abundance. The people here have been forced to take extraordinary measures to keep themselves from being overrun. It also helps that Galbatorix gives them soldiers to defend their city."

After stopping at a local (and dingy) tavern, they acquired directions to where they might find Jeod's house. They came to an herbalist's shop, which sat between two houses. The short-curly haired woman, who they assumed to be Angela the herbalist sat out front with a piece of parchment in one hand, and a frog in the other. "Excuse me, could you tell us which house is Jeod's?" Brom asked politely.

"I could." She continued writing.

"Will you tell us?"

"Yes." She fell silent, but her pen scribbled faster than ever. The frog on her hand croaked and looked at them with baleful eyes. They waited uncomfortably, but she said no more. Daemon and Eragon shared a look with one another, both wondering if this woman was a little... not right in the head. Angela then looked up at them. "Of course I'll tell you! All you have to do is ask. Your first question was whether or not I could tell you, and the second was if I would tell you. But you never actually put the question to me."

"Then let me ask properly," said Brom with a smile. "Which house is Jeod's? And why are you holding a frog?"

"Now we're getting somewhere," she bantered. "Jeod is on the right. And as for the frog, he's actually a toad. I'm trying to prove that toads don't exist—that there are only frogs."

"How can toads not exist if you have one on your hand right now?" interrupted Eragon. "Besides, what good will it do, proving that there are only frogs?"

The woman shook her head vigorously, dark curls bouncing. "No, no, you don't understand. If I prove toads don't exist, then this is a frog and never was a toad. Therefore, the toad you see now doesn't exist. And," she raised a small finger, "if I can prove there are only frogs, then toads won't be able to do anything bad—like make teeth fall out, cause warts, and poison or kill people. Also, witches won't be able to use any of their evil spells because, of course, there won't be any toads around."

"I see," said Brom delicately. "It sounds interesting, and I would like to hear more, but we have to meet Jeod."

"Of course," she said, waving her hand and returning to her writing.

As they walked away, Daemon shook his head. "City people, they are always different from village types."

"Oh, you never know." shrugged Brom. "She might discover something useful, like the fact that toads really are frogs!"

"And my shoes are made of gold," retorted Eragon.

They stopped before a door with a wrought-iron knocker and marble doorstep. Brom banged three times. No one answered. Eragon felt slightly foolish. "Maybe this is the wrong house. Let's try the other one," he said. Brom ignored him and knocked again, pounding loudly.

Again no one answered. Eragon turned away in exasperation, then heard someone run to the door. A young woman with a pale complexion and light blond hair cracked it open. Her eyes were puffy; it looked like she had been crying, but her voice was perfectly steady. "Yes, what do you want?"

"Does Jeod live here?" asked Brom kindly.

The woman dipped her head a little. "Yes, he is my husband. Is he expecting you?" She opened the door no farther.

"No, but we need to talk with him," said Brom.

"He is very busy."

"We have traveled far. It's very important that we see him."

Her face hardened. "He is busy."

Brom bristled, but his voice stayed pleasant. "Since he is unavailable, would you please give him a message?" Her mouth twitched, but she consented. "Tell him that a friend from Gil'ead is waiting outside."

The woman seemed suspicious, but said, "Very well." She closed the door abruptly and they heard her footsteps go deeper into the house.

"Cheerful woman." Daemon commented.

"Let me do the talking." Brom said, giving the Dragonborn a look, giving the same look to Eragon telling them both to remain quiet.

The door suddenly flew open, and a tall man burst out of the house. His expensive clothes were rumpled, his gray hair wispy, and he had a mournful face with short eyebrows. A long scar stretched across his scalp to his temple.

At the sight of them, his eyes grew wide, and he sagged against the doorframe, speechless. His mouth opened and closed several times like a gasping fish. He asked softly, in an incredulous voice, "Brom?"

Brom put a finger to his lips and reached forward, clasping the man's arm. "It's good to see you, Jeod! I'm glad that memory has not failed you, but don't use that name. It would be unfortunate if anyone knew I was here."

Jeod looked around wildly, shock plain on his face. "I thought you were dead," he whispered. "What happened? Why haven't you contacted me before?"

"All things will be explained. Do you have a place where we can talk safely?"

Jeod hesitated, swinging his gaze between the trio, face unreadable. Finally he said, "We can't talk here, but if you wait a moment, I'll take you somewhere we can."

"Fine," said Brom.

Jeod then led them through the streets until they reached the citadel, and instructed them to tie the horses outside. Taking them inside, Jeod ushered them into a room, locked the door and started a fire. He then restarted his flood of questions directed toward Brom. Much to Daemon and Eragon's dismay, Brom's answers were deliberately vague and forthcoming with any information they had been hoping to hear. Noticing their twin scowls, Brom suggested they go and check on the horses, stating he didn't recall tying Snowfire's rope tight enough.

He's hiding something from us Eragon thought to Daemon.

Really? What else is new, his friend responded.

An idea then came to Eragon. He told Daemon to link his mind with his own, which the Dragonborn did. Concentrating, Eragon then uttered. "Thverr stenr un atra eka hórna!" and imbued the words with his will. He was then able to hear Jeod and Brom speaking, causing him to grin and he looked at Daemon who nodded, showing he too could hear.

The duo listened as Jeod and Brom spoke, mentioning something happening in Gil'ead, then mentioning someone named Ajihad. From what Daemon and Eragon could tell, Brom and Jeod were hired to steal something from Gil'ead, which somehow led to Jeod thinking Brom was dead. They also mentioned a place called Tronjheim, that among other things, was a dwarven settlement. Jeod suggested they return there to due to the possibility of their being a spy among them. Brom flat out refused, stating that Eragon and Saphira were not yet ready, that they may not be for some time.

Eragon was startled at the mention of his dragon as well as dwarves, but Daemon motioned for him to be quiet and stay still as they listened further. Whatever they were talking about, there was a traitor amongst Jeod and Brom's 'friends', and Brom said he had to send word to this Ajihad person, stating his contacts are either dead or have forgotten him.

When they heard Brom say that they should check on the two of them, Daemon gave Eragon the gesture to cease the spell and the two acted casual when Brom and Jeod joined them.

Jeod led them back through the streets of Teirm, an offered them lodging at his house. He took them out to a much nicer tavern for a meal, and as they were returning to the house, Eragon motioned for Daemon to wait. "You two go on ahead; there's something Daemon and I want to check on."

"Be careful, and don't take too long." Brom agreed absently.

"Wait," said Jeod. "Are you planning on going out of the city?" Eragon reluctantly nodded. "Make sure you are back before dark. The guards lock the gates then, and you won't be able to enter until morning." They assured him that they wouldn't, then took off toward the gate they had first arrived through.


Saphira! Eragon called as he and Daemon made their way towards the bottom of the cliffs. Where are you? She guided them off the road, to the base of a mossy cliff surrounded by maples. They saw her head poke out of the trees on the top and waved. How am we supposed to get up there?

If you find a clearing, I'll come down and get you.

No, he said, eyeing the cliff, that won't be necessary. We'll just climb up.

It's too dangerous.

Rock climbing...oh how this takes me back. Daemon said as he began to climb the cliff with experienced skill. Skyrim had many large mountains and rocky surfaces, perfect for climbing and Daemon enjoyed doing that instead of taking longer ways.

Eragon followed Daemon's lead and began his ascent. There were plenty of handholds and the boys relished the physical challenge. Daemon reached the top first and moved over so Eragon could join him. As he neared the top, his footing suddenly gave way, and Eragon started to fall when a hand grabbed his left one tightly. He looked to see Daemon leaning on his stomach, holding onto him, with Saphira holding his legs down so he didn't go falling down with Eragon.

Having fun yet? Saphira chuckled. Together, Daemon and Saphira pulled Eragon onto the cliff with them. Saphira gently licked his cheek, Foolishness.

They sat together the three of them and studied the landscape. Saphira had chosen the perfect spot to hide; the only way she could been seen was if someone was above her position. Eragon recounted the day's events to her. Is Brom's friend trustworthy?

I don't know. Eragon proceeded to recount the day's events. There are forces circling us that we aren't aware of. Sometimes I wonder if we can ever understand the true motives of the people around us. They all seem to have secrets.

Such is the way of things, Saphira sighed. Ignore the schemes and trust in the nature of the person. Brom is a good man, he means us no harm.

I hope so, he said, looking down at his hands.

This finding of the Ra'zac through writing is a strange way of tracking, she remarked. Would there be a way to use magic to see the records without being inside the room?

I'm not sure. You would have to combine the word for seeing with distance... or maybe light and distance. Either way, it seems rather difficult. I'll ask Brom.

That would be wise. They lapsed into tranquil silence. It was then that they noticed how far the sun had set in the sky. We should go, Eragon told them, else we risk being locked out of the city. Hunt tomorrow, Saphira, and we will come visit you in the evening.

She spread her wings. Come, I will take you down. They got onto her back, and she gently launched off the cliff and glided to the ground below. As they thanked her and turned back to Teirm, she called after them. Daemon?

Yes, Saphira? He stopped and looked back towards her.

The dragoness paused. Would you like to come flying and hunting with me tomorrow? I know we are going to be here a while, and I could do with some company. She sent him an image of his dragon form, and he got what she meant. He smiled back.

Sure, sounds like fun. Daemon smiled at her a bit before bidding her goodnight and walking off with Eragon.


And that's it for this chapter.