Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls or The Inheritance Cycle.
Early morning, before the sun was even up in the sky, Daemon awoke first and looked around to see Eragon was still asleep. So Daemon quietly got out of bed, debated whether to take his weapon but decided not to.
Exiting Jeod's house quietly, Daemon started to make his way towards the gate of the city. Exiting through the gate, Daemon soon found himself at the bottom of the cliff Saphira had made her home for now. Deciding to sneak up quietly since she could still be sleeping, Daemon started to climb. For some odd reason, Daemon felt like he wanted to impress Saphira this time around, but for the life of him couldn't figure out why. Shrugging to himself, he chalked it up to his dragon instincts.
Reaching the top of the cliff, Daemon peered slowly over the edge to try and glimpse if Saphira was asleep. He was met, however, by a blue scaled snout and two bright eyes that locked onto his with a flash of amusement.
Good morning Saphira chuckled softly.
And here I was trying to be quiet, thinking you were sleeping. Daemon groused as he hoisted himself up and stood to face the dragoness. Saphira stepped back and sat on her haunches, allowing him to come and stand next to her near the trees that lined the top of the rise.
A thoughtful gesture, but unnecessary. I could smell you as soon as you left the gates.
Of course, dragon sense of smell. Daemon said with an amused roll of his eyes as he went to take his clothes off so they don't rip during his transformation. He had gotten his shirt off as well as his boots before he paused and looked to the dragoness who was staring at him. Saphira.
Yes?
Turn around.
Saphira blinked before she chuckled. Come now, Daemon, don't tell me you are a shy male. She looked him up and down and her tail gave a playful twitch. You don't wear clothes as a dragon, what's the big deal?
It's called privacy. Daemon chuckled before he gave her the gesture to turn around and face the other way, a small blush on his cheeks. He wasn't ashamed of his body, but stripping until he was barely wearing anything with a female dragon watching him... yeah, it left him flustered and a little shy.
Saphira huffed and turned. Hurry it up, I don't want to stare at trees any longer than necessary.
Daemon rolled his eyes and continued stripping until he was fully naked. He didn't know if, eventually, he'll be able to change into dragon form with clothing on but he hoped so because then it'll be embarrassing to change back with no clothes on around others. Maybe if he wore tight-fitting clothing, they'll stay on even during his transformation. Shrugging, he closed his eyes, focused... and began to change.
The first change was his skin. It quickly went from its usual pink to the silvery-blue coloration of his scales. Speaking of scales, they appeared shortly after, and ran down his body from head to toe. He felt his internal organs shift around and new layers of muscle flow over his limbs. He opened his eyes and watched as fingers and toes grew wicked claws and thickened into the talons of a dragon. Two lumps appeared on his back and he felt the skin stretch as his bones changed into the shoulder and wing bones. He thought they would break through the skin, but then realized he had started growing. His chest inflated and his torso lengthened out, along with his neck. His spine stretched down and his tail began to grow out of his backside. Spikes erupted down his backbone and around his face, as horns grew out above his rapidly shrinking ears. He fell onto all fours as his wings emerged fully from his back, and he felt his face begin to push outwards. His muzzle grew out and an itching sensation in his mouth alerted him to his teeth getting longer and sharper, and multiplying into his deadly fangs. He continued to grow and change until he was the same proud dragon that he had been days before. The last thing to change was his eyes; the pupils went from round dots to slits, and the silver-blue color became deeper and more intense.
That feels better. Daemon said as he stretched his front legs out and his wings to get some feeling in them before he turned to Saphira, who had ignored his request to look away, and was now staring at him in awe. Daemon raised a playful scaly brow and asked. Are you going to stare at me all day Saphira, or do you still want to go flying? Of course, I could fly slow, in case your mind is elsewhere...
That did it.
She gave a low growl at this and stretched out her wings. It is you who will be staring at me as I beat you in the race we're going to have. There is a stream just beyond these trees. Try and keep up. She thrust her wings downward in a powerful stroke and leaped into the air. Daemon watched her graceful form for a moment, then crouched low and threw himself into the air after her. No way was he going to let her beat him.
When Eragon woke, it was late morning. The first thing he noticed was that Daemon was already gone but remembered that his friend was spending the day with Saphira. He made his way downstairs but before he reached the end of the hall, the butler caught up with him and said, "Sir, Neal left with my master for the castle earlier. He said that you could do whatever you want today because he will not return until this evening."
Eragon thanked him for the message, then eagerly began exploring Teirm. For hours he wandered the streets, entering every shop that struck his fancy and chatting with various people. Eventually he was forced back to Jeod's by his empty stomach and lack of money.
When he reached the street where the merchant lived, he stopped at the herbalist's shop next door. It was an unusual place for a store. The other shops were down by the city wall, not crammed between expensive houses. He tried to look in the windows, but they were covered with a thick layer of crawling plants on the interior. Curious, he went inside.
At first he saw nothing because the store was so dark, but then his eyes adjusted to the faint greenish light that filtered through the windows. A colorful bird with wide tail feathers and a sharp, powerful beak looked at Eragon inquisitively from a cage near the window. The walls were covered with plants; vines clung to the ceiling, obscuring all but an old chandelier, and on the floor was a large pot with a yellow flower. A collection of mortars, pestles, metal bowls, and a clear crystal ball the size of Eragon's head rested on a long counter.
He walked to the counter, carefully stepping around complex machines, crates of rocks, piles of scrolls, and other objects he did not recognize. The wall behind the counter was covered with drawers of every size. Some of them were no larger than his smallest finger, while others were big enough for a barrel. There was a foot-wide gap in the shelves far above.
A pair of red eyes suddenly flashed from the dark space, and a large, fierce cat leapt onto the counter. It had a lean body with powerful shoulders and oversized paws. A shaggy mane surrounded its angular face; its ears were tipped with black tufts. White fangs curved down over its jaw. Altogether, it did not look like any cat Eragon had ever seen. It inspected him with shrewd eyes, then flicked its tail dismissively.
On a whim, Eragon reached out with his mind and touched the cat's consciousness. Gently, he prodded it with his thoughts, trying to make it understand that he was a friend.
You don't have to do that.
Eragon looked around in alarm. The cat ignored him and licked a paw. Saphira? Daemon? Where are you? he asked. No one answered. Puzzled, he leaned against the counter and reached for what looked like a wood rod.
That wouldn't be wise.
Stop playing games, you two. He snapped, then picked up the rod. A shock of electricity exploded through his body, and he fell to the floor, writhing. The pain slowly faded, leaving him gasping for air. The cat jumped down and looked at him.
You aren't very smart for a Dragon Rider. I did warn you.
You said that! exclaimed Eragon. The cat yawned, then stretched and sauntered across the floor, weaving its way between objects.
Who else?
But you're just a cat! he objected.
The cat yowled and stalked back to him. It jumped on his chest and crouched there, looking down at him with gleaming eyes. Eragon tried to sit up, but it growled, showing its fangs. Do I look like other cats?
No...
Then what makes you think I am one? Eragon started to say something, but the creature dug its claws into his chest. Obviously your education has been neglected. I—to correct your mistake—am a werecat. There aren't many of us left, but I think even a farm boy should have heard of us.
I didn't know you were real, said Eragon, fascinated. A werecat! He was indeed fortunate. They were always flitting around the edges of stories, keeping to themselves and occasionally giving advice. If the legends were true, they had magical powers, lived longer than humans, and usually knew more than they told.
The werecat blinked lazily. Knowing is independent of being. I did not know you existed before you bumbled in here and ruined my nap. Yet that doesn't mean you weren't real before you woke me.
Eragon was lost by its reasoning. I'm sorry I disturbed you.
I was getting up anyway, it said. It leapt back onto the counter and licked its paw. If I were you, I wouldn't hold on to that rod much longer. It's going to shock you again in a few seconds.
He hastily put the rod back where he had found it. What is it?
A common and boring artifact, unlike myself.
But what's it for?
Didn't you find out? The werecat finished cleaning its paw, stretched once more, then jumped back up to its sleeping place. It sat down, tucked its paws under its breast, and closed its eyes, purring.
Wait, said Eragon, what's your name?
One of the werecat's slanted eyes cracked open. I go by many names. If you are looking for my proper one, you will have to seek elsewhere. The eye closed. Eragon gave up and turned to leave. However, you may call me Solembum.
Thank you, said Eragon seriously. Solembum's purring grew louder.
The door to the shop swung open, letting in a beam of sunlight. Angela entered with a cloth bag full of plants. Her eyes flickered at Solembum and she looked startled. "He says you talked with him."
"You can talk with him, too?" asked Eragon.
She tossed her head. "Of course, but that doesn't mean he'll say anything back." She set her plants on the counter, then walked behind it and faced him. "He likes you. That's unusual. Most of the time Solembum doesn't show himself to customers. In fact, he says that you show some promise, given a few years of work."
"Thanks."
"It's a compliment, coming from him. You're only the third person to come in here who has been able to speak with him. The first was a woman, many years ago; the second was a blind beggar; and now you. But I don't run a store just so I can prattle on. Is there anything you want? Or did you only come in to look?"
"Just to look," said Eragon, still thinking about the werecat. "Besides, I don't really need any herbs."
"That's not all I do," said Angela with a grin. "The rich fool lords pay me for love potions and the like. I never claim that they work, but for some reason they keep coming back. But I don't think you need those chicaneries. Would you like your fortune told? I do that, too, for all the rich fool ladies."
Eragon laughed. "No, I'm afraid my fortune is pretty much unreadable. And I don't have any money."
Angela looked at Solembum curiously. "I think..." She gestured at the crystal ball resting on the counter. "That's only for show anyway—it doesn't do anything. But I do have... Wait here; I'll be right back." She hurried into a room at the back of the shop.
She came back, breathless, holding a leather pouch, which she set on the counter. "I haven't used these for so long, I almost forgot where they were. Now, sit across from me and I'll show you why I went to all this trouble." Eragon found a stool and sat. Solembum's eyes glowed from the gap in the drawers.
Angela laid a thick cloth on the counter, then poured a handful of smooth bones, each slightly longer than a finger, onto it. Runes and symbols were inscribed along their sides. "These," she said, touching them gently, "are the knucklebones of a dragon. Don't ask where I got them; it is a secret I won't reveal. But unlike tea leaves, crystal balls, or even divining cards, these have true power. They do not lie, though understanding what they say is . . . complicated. If you wish, I will cast and read them for you. But understand that to know one's fate can be a terrible thing. You must be sure of your decision."
Eragon looked at the bones with a feeling of dread. There lies what was once one of Saphira's kin. To know one's fate... How can I make this decision when I don't know what lies in wait for me and whether I will like it? Ignorance is indeed bliss. "Why do you offer this?" he asked.
"Because of Solembum. He may have been rude, but the fact that he spoke to you makes you special. He is a werecat, after all. I offered to do this for the other two people who talked with him. Only the woman agreed to it. Selena was her name. Ah, she regretted it, too. Her fortune was bleak and painful. I don't think she believed it—not at first."
Emotion overcame Eragon, bringing tears to his eyes. "Selena," he whispered to himself. His mother's name. Could it have been her? Was her destiny so horrible that she had to abandon me? "Do you remember anything about her fortune?" he asked, feeling sick.
Angela shook her head and sighed. "It was so long ago that the details have melted into the rest of my memory, which isn't as good as it used to be. Besides, I'll not tell you what I do remember. That was for her and her alone. It was sad, though; I've never forgotten the look on her face."
Eragon closed his eyes and struggled to regain control of his emotions. "Why do you complain about your memory?" he asked to distract himself. "You're not that old."
Dimples appeared on Angela's cheeks. "I'm flattered, but don't be deceived; I'm much older than I look. The appearance of youth probably comes from having to eat my own herbs when times are lean."
Smiling, Eragon took a deep breath. If that was my mother and she could bear to have her fortune told, I can too. "Cast the bones for me," he said solemnly.
Angela's face became grave as she grasped the bones in each hand. Her eyes closed, and her lips moved in a soundless murmur. Then she said powerfully, "Manin! Wyrda! Hugin!"
The wind lightly caressed the scales of the two dragons as they lay on top of the now familiar cliff overlooking Teirm. They had returned from their flight a short while ago and now they just lay beside each other enjoying the view and each others company. The clouds that had been out over the sea had rolled in, and the feeling of rain was in the air.
Daemon laid on his stomach, head on his front paws. Their earlier race had surprisingly ended in a draw, which (unsurprisingly) led to Saphira wanting a friendly brawl to even the score. They enjoyed the playful fighting they engaged in. Saphira still managed to best him though, a fact that she was only too happy to remind him of every now and then. Their appetites forgotten, they flew for a time, engaging in some aerobatics around each other, lost in the sheer thrill of flying.
Daemon was even able to impress Saphira with a few spirals around her as they flew. Not wanting to be shown up, Saphira dragged him down to the ground once again for a few more playful brawls which (surprise!) Saphira most often won.
Well, that was fun. Saphira laughed as they caught their breaths from the amount of playing. You've adapted well to your dragon body. One would almost think you had always been a dragon.
Thanks, he grinned back. It helps having a good teacher though.
Flattery, although appreciated, won't get you any points next time we fight.
A comfortable silence filled the air between them as they laid there., gazing towards the ocean. Saphira took some glances at him, her eyes roaming his muscular form.
She was happy they had enough time to spend together during the stay in Tierm. Saphira had been happy to know there was a dragon around her age to talk with and spend time with. Saphira was just happy to have another friend, a dragon at that. But...she can't help but feel like something has changed. Maybe she should have expected it, her being female, him being male, the only dragons around that are free.
Her eyes flickered over his scaled body again. Saphira had liked Daemon since she had met him, and they had since become good friends, but things felt...different now, and she was unsure of how to proceed. She knew they weren't romantic feelings by any measure, but they weren't exactly simple feelings of friendship either. She fidgeted and stole another glance over at him.
He really did make a handsome dragon. She subtlety shuffled closer to him, her companion oblivious as he continued to stare seaward, until their shoulders touched. He turned to look at her in silent question, but she simply smiled back.
Saphira went to say something when she felt something wet hit the top of her head and she looked up to see the dark grey clouds rolling in, the drops of wet meaning it was about to rain. Ugh, I hate the rain.
The two dragons found a place to take shelter in, in between some trees with thick leaves that took most of the rain but it was still dropping onto them. Saphira sighed and lowered her head when suddenly she felt a wing be placed over the top of her head and looked to see Daemon had outstretched his wing to cover her from the rain.
Better? He asked.
Thoughtful, but what about you?
He shrugged. It's okay. I kind of like the rain. He started to turn his head back towards the city, when Saphira's head darted towards his. Daemon was expecting another playful nip, so he was surprised when he felt the dragoness give his neck a small, quick nuzzle.
Thank you, she said softly.
Daemon paused. You're welcome, Saphira. He said, writing her affectionate nuzzle as one of gratefulness for the 'blanket' his wing had become.
Saphira gave him one last look before she settled down, laying her head on her paws. The gentle sound of the rain on his wing membrane, his subtle scent drifting of his wing, and his warm bulk beside hers began to lull her to sleep. She tried to remain awake, but it just felt so right to lay here with him, so she let her eyes close and sleep take her.
The words rang in Eragon's ears; he recognized them from the ancient language and realized with apprehension that to use them for magic, Angela must be a witch. She had not lied; this was a true fortune-telling. Minutes slowly passed as she studied the bones.
Finally, Angela leaned back and heaved a long sigh. She wiped her brow and pulled out a wineskin from under the counter. "Do you want some?" she asked. Eragon shook his head. She shrugged and drank deeply. "This," she said, wiping her mouth, "is the hardest reading I've ever done. You were right. Your future is nigh impossible to see. I've never known of anyone's fate being so tangled and clouded. I was, however, able to wrestle a few answers from it."
Solembum jumped onto the counter and settled there, watching them both. Eragon clenched his hands as Angela pointed to one of the bones. "I will start here," she said slowly, "because it is the clearest to understand."
The symbol on the bone was a long horizontal line with a circle resting on it. "Infinity or long life," said Angela quietly. "This is the first time I have ever seen it come up in someone's future. Most of the time it's the aspen or the elm, both signs that a person will live a normal span of years. Whether this means that you will live forever or that you will only have an extraordinarily long life, I'm not sure. Whatever it foretells, you may be sure that many years lie ahead of you."
No surprises there—I am a Rider, thought Eragon. Was Angela only going to tell him things he already knew?
"Now the bones grow harder to read, as the rest are in a confused pile." Angela touched three of them. "Here the wandering path, lightning bolt, and sailing ship all lie together—a pattern I've never seen, only heard of. The wandering path shows that there are many choices in your future, some of which you face even now. I see great battles raging around you, some of them fought for your sake. I see the mighty powers of this land struggling to control your will and destiny. Countless possible futures await you—all of them filled with blood and conflict—but only one will bring you happiness and peace. Beware of losing your way, for you are one of the few who are truly free to choose their own fate. That freedom is a gift, but it is also a responsibility more binding than chains."
Then her face grew sad. "And yet, as if to counteract that, here is the lightning bolt. It is a terrible omen. There is a doom upon you, but of what sort I know not. Part of it lies in a death—one that rapidly approaches and will cause you much grief. But the rest awaits in a great journey. Look closely at this bone. You can see how its end rests on that of the sailing ship. That is impossible to misunderstand. Your fate will be to leave this land forever. Where you will end up I know not, but you will never again stand in Alagaësia. This is inescapable. It will come to pass even if you try to avoid it."
Her words frightened Eragon. Another death... who must I lose now? His thoughts immediately went to Roran, Brom, Daemon and Saphira. Then he thought about his homeland. What could ever force me to leave? And where would I go? Skyrim? Daemon's home?
Angela rubbed her temples and breathed deeply. "The next bone is easier to read and perhaps a bit more pleasant." Eragon examined it and saw a rose blossom inscribed between the horns of a crescent moon.
Angela smiled and said, "An epic romance is in your future, extraordinary, as the moon indicates—for that is a magical symbol—and strong enough to outlast empires. I cannot say if this passion will end happily, but your love is of noble birth and heritage. She is powerful, wise, and beautiful beyond compare."
Of noble birth, thought Eragon in surprise. How could that ever happen? I have no more standing than the poorest of farmers.
"Now for the last few bones; the tree and the hawthorn root. I wish that this were not so – it can only mean trouble – but betrayal is clear. And it will come from within your family."
"Roran wouldn't do that!" Eragon protested hotly.
"I wouldn't know," Angela said gently. "But the bones have never lied, and that is what they say.
Doubt wormed through Eragon's mind, as he tried to understand why Roran would ever turn on him. He looked around for something to take his thoughts away from it, and his gaze fell back to the bones. Here he noticed a bone Angela had not mentioned, lying in the middle of the pile, and somehow touching each of the others. On its surface was a symbol of the sun, rising over what appeared to be a lake, and its reflection showing in the still water. "Wait," he said suddenly. "What about this one? You missed it." He pointed it out to the surprised herbalist.
"Hmm," Angela tapped her chin in thought. She then cleared her throat and continued, "I never mentioned it because it is yet another I have not seen before. It is the symbol for the celestial mirror. See how it lies in the middle touching the others? It means that someone you know, or will know, shares almost the same future as you do; the fate, the romance, everything."
"After all that, death might be welcome," Eragon joked nervously.
"It might be," said Angela solemnly, then laughed slightly. "But you shouldn't fret about what has yet to occur. The only way the future can harm us is by causing worry. I guarantee that you'll feel better once you're out in the sun."
"Perhaps…. I noticed that you use words of power," he noted.
A greater look of inquisitiveness flashed across Angela's eyes. "You must certainly have an interesting life. You can speak to werecats, and know the ancient language, and have an even more interesting future. And based upon your appearance," referencing to his travel-worn clothes, "I find it hard to believe that a woman of noble birth would love you. Which begs me to question: Who are you?"
He almost was about to say Evan, but then reconsidered and simply stated, "I am Eragon."
Angela arched her eyebrows. "Is that who you are or your name?" she asked.
"Both," said Eragon with a small smile, thinking of his namesake, the first Rider.
"Now I'm all the more interested in seeing how your life will unfold. Who were the other two you were with yesterday?"
She already knew his name, and he decided that two more couldn't hurt. "My friend Daemon. And the older one is Brom."
The second name caused Angela to suddenly double over with laughter. She gasped for breath, "Oh... him!"
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Don't be upset," she replied, hiding a smile. "It is just that – by people in my profession - that poor man's doom, or future if you prefer, I something of a joke."
"Don't insult him! He's a better man than any you could find!" snapped Eragon.
"Peace, peace," chided Angela with amusement. "I know that. If we meet again at the right time I'll be sure to tell you about it. But in the meantime you should—" She stopped speaking as Solembum padded between them. The werecat stared at Eragon with unblinking eyes.
Yes? Eragon asked, irritated.
Listen closely and I will tell you two things. When the time comes and you need a weapon, look under the roots of the Menoa tree. Then, when all seems lost and your power is insufficient, go to the rock of Kuthian and speak your name to open the Vault of Souls. Oh, and tell your friend separation isn't all that bad, good results can come of it.
Before Eragon could question what the werecat meant, Solembum walked away. Angela stared off after him and returned her attention to Eragon. "He spoke to you didn't he? I do not want to know what he said. What was said was meant for you and you alone."
"I think I have to go." said Eragon, slightly ruffled.
"If you must go," said Angela, smiling again. "You are more than welcome to stay and make a purchase of some of my wares but if you must leave then so be it. I suppose you have quite a lot to ponder."
"Yes, I do." Eragon stated quickly then walked to the door. "Thank you for reading my future. I hope that we can meet again."
Still smiling, Angela said, "You're welcome. And perhaps we shall."
Eragon exited the building and made haste to visit Saphira and Markus, where he would tell them of the strange events that occurred.
The first thing Saphira noticed when she awoke was the lack of Daemon's warm presence against her side. She raised her head to look for him, fearing he might have left, but she quickly relaxed when she saw him nearby in his human form, finishing putting his last boot on so he was fully dressed. A slight feeling of disappointment touched her mind. She was hoping his 'dragon time' wouldn't be up so soon; she had been enjoying it. He looked over and flashed her a quick smile when he saw her rise. Sleep well?
Quite well...she thought privately. To Daemon she said, Yes, thank you. I appreciated the 'blanket' you gave me too. Daemon just chuckled, but said nothing more. He knew it was pretty bold to have done that, but something in his head told him it was the right thing to do. Just like when she fell asleep, the same sensation told him not to move when her head rolled next to his. Or the other thing he did while she slept...
Saphira stood up and stretched. She crooned happily at her nap, but was stopped short when a low rumble issued from her empty stomach. It was then she remembered that due to all their flying and playing, she and Daemon had never gone hunting. Daemon noticed the sound and gave a soft chuckle. It was Saphira's turn to blush. Excuse me. I guess in all the fun I forgot we planned to go hunting. I will go and get something. Will you wait here? Eragon shouldn't be long.
Daemon simply shook his head and pointed behind her. Already taken care of. She followed his gesture and saw that a freshly caught doe had been placed near her. She cocked her head at him as if to ask, for me?
Daemon shrugged. After you fell asleep, I lay there for a while listening to the rain. I got hungry so I went hunting. I figured you might be upset if I ate without you so...he trailed off as he looked away from the longing gaze the dragoness was giving him.
You're sweet, Daemon. she hummed.
The two then felt Eragon's mind brush against theirs and Daemon went to see him while Saphira dug into her meal. The Dragonborn helped his friend onto the cliff.
"So, how was your day?" Daemon asked.
Eragon told them of how his day went, to him meeting Angela, the reading she gave on his future, as well as the werecat's message for them. Rahgol was interested in the werecat's message for him and Eragon though.
You should remember what the werecat told you. It's important. Saphira said as she cleaned her muzzle and claws from the blood of the meal she had.
How do you know? Eragon asked curiously.
I'm not sure, but the names he used feel powerful.
Do you think I should tell Brom?
It's your choice, but think of this: he has no right to know your future. To tell him of Solembum and his words will only raise questions you may not want to answer. And if you decided to only ask him what those words mean, he will want to know where you learned them. Do you think you can lie convincingly to him?
No, admitted Eragon. Maybe I won't say anything. Still, this might be too important to hide. They talked until there was nothing more to say. Then they sat together companionably, watching the trees until dusk. Eventually, Daemon and Eragon went back to Teirm...
And that's it for this chapter everyone.
