Elva was sitting on a short stool, looking blankly out the window. Through it, Eragon could see the warm sun begin to peak its golden crown over the horizon. The light gave and eerie quality to Elva's stone-like features.
Eragon was disturbed out of his silent reverie by a cold, grown-up voice, as it left Elva's mouth, "I hope you haven't just come to stare at me. I get enough of that already."
She turned her head towards him, "Have you come to cure me? Have you come to lift my curse?" Her cold voice turned soft and timid, like a small girls. Eragon was heartened by it.
"Yes, we have come to cure you, to undo what was done."
She nodded, tears in her eyes, and Eragon went to her and embraced her. She sag against him, as if he had just released the weight of the world from her shoulders.
Finally he stood back up. He reached out his consciousness to Saphira, out in the hallway and he shared her magic. He took several calming breaths, and putting his palm upon the girl's forehead, he said in the Ancient Language,
'May this curse be lifted from you, may you be released from its power, may you be strong in front of your adversaries, and may you love and be loved by all whom are of a good heart'
Eragon's palm glowed bright, and he slumped forward onto the floor, gasping for air. He saw Elva begin to fall off her seat in front of him. He reached forward and grabbed her limp body before she landed. Still breathless though recovering, Eragon carefully checked to make sure she was still breathing. He was relieved to see her chest rise and fall steadily. She was only sleeping.
Saphira asked worriedly, 'Is she alright?'
Eragon only nodded, and he lifted her weightless body up and over to her straw bed. He lay her down gently, glad that she was only sleeping and not dead. They had been lucky.
Exhausted, Eragon sat down on the floor next to her, his back against the wall. He closed his eyes, and went into a trance-like state, walking with the shadows of his past, haunting the happy places of his child hood, deep in his visions though still conscious of the world around him.
His eyes shot open at a the sound of Elva moaning. The room was bright; it was about noon. He quickly turned to Elva, who was now sitting up, rubbing her head. She looked at him through questioning eyes, before whispering, "Did it work?"
Eragon shrugged, and called out to Saphira, whom he sensed was still in the hallway, 'Saphira? I'm awake now. Elva is too. She seems alright.'
Saphira hurriedly replied, 'Are you all right? Is Elva cured? What happened?'
Eragon rubbed his head, 'I'm not sure. We'll see if the curse is lifted soon enough.'
Eragon examined Elva with his eyes, and asked, "Are you alright?"She nodded.
"Do you feel any better?"
Again, she nodded.
"Do you think the spell worked?"
She hesitated. Then, in a voice that surprised Eragon, she answered, "I no longer feel the urges. I feel… normal."
Then, struck with an idea, Eragon stood up abruptly, and raised his fist, when Elva cried out, "Don't do it!"
Eragon, surprised, let his armrest back at his side. He had been about to punch the wall with his fist. He would have undoubtedly hurt himself. She had foreseen the action. She had passed the test.
"You can still see the visions then, can you?"
She paused confused, then shook her head.
"You can't? Try to see them. Focus on the feeling you used to get."
She closed her eyes, and after a moment concentration, she gasped, and her eyes opened wide.
"What happened? Did you see something? "
She nodded vigorously, and her voice, sounding more and more like a little girls, answered, "Yes, in 10 minutes, one of Angela's pots will break and spill a scalding hot liquid on her left arm. I could only see it when I concentrated. It was difficult, but it worked. Though the strange thing is that I feel no urge to go help her other than the fact that she is my friend. Like when you stood up, I wanted to know what you were about to do and I saw you breaking your fist on the wall." She flinched, "But I could have let you done it! I could have! You have freed me!"
She jumped off her bed like the child she was, and jumped onto Eragon, hugging him as tightly as she could. Tears of joy ran freely from her eyes and his began to water. Soon though, he put her down and, holding her small hand, he walked her to the door, and over to the room he sensed Angela was in. He began to knock, but Elva grabbed the handle and burst open the door, revealing an even more tired, but cheerful looking Angela at a desk, her hand poised with a quill, ready to write. When she saw the expression on both Elva and Eragon's faces, she broke out with a large smile.
"You did it! It worked!" She looked to them for conformation and Eragon simply smiled as Elva bobbed her head up and down. Angela got up and came forward, sweeping Elva of her feet.
"We must inform Nasuada."
Angela, bearing Elva, strode forward, through the main door, and out into the hall with surprising speed.
Eragon leaned his head back, and laughed a true laugh, before following the two of them. Outside the apartments he met Saphira, and they hurried to catch up to the exited companions.
Nasuada seemed very happy and pleased with Eragon's work. "Now, Eragon, you are free to do whatever you wish until your departure with Roran in the next few days."
Eragon responded, "With your permission, I would go to the sparring field where Roran is waiting for me."
She nodded and with a few words of parting from Nasuada, and several words of gratitude from Elva and Angela, he and Saphira left for the Sparring grounds.
He was feeling decidedly chipper, and Roran commented on his good mood, while he was being tutored. Eragon shrugged and answered, "I saved a life today. Such a thing would make most men happy."
Roran snorted and swung his sparring sword at Eragon's head. Eragon lifted his weapon to block it, but Roran swiftly punched his fist forward, toward Eragon's gut. Eragon laughed, "Good improvisation!" as he grabbed Roran's fist and tunic, and threw him to the ground.
'It was a weak attempt,' he thought, but Roran was indeed improving. Roran got up, dusted the dirt from his clothes and jumped right back into fight.
'He's certainly dedicated,' Saphira commented. Eragon agreed.
Eragon disarmed Roran with one swift movement.
'He is talented, though, for one whose had no training.'
Roran growled and tried to tackle Eragon, who side stepped and tripped him into the ground.
'I wonder what the rest of the Carvahall villagers are doing. They could join the Varden's ranks. They would be much needed.'
Roran retrieved his sword, and swung it furiously at Eragon. Eragon parried the blows with incredible grace and ease.
Saphira answered, 'Can any of them fight? Most are just simple farmers.'
Finally, after relentless pounding at Eragon's unyielding parries he was too tired to continue. He bent over, gasping and sweating profusely. Eragon let his sword rest at his side and turned to Saphira.'None of those villagers are simple farmers after what they've lived through.'
Saphira didn't reply.
Eragon turned to Roran, "I think you're finished for the day. Lets go inside and have some mead."
Roran nodded, and they weaved through the combatants on the field.
The mead was good and they had an enjoyable meal of chatting before their discussion turned serious. The hall was extremely loud and crowded and if Saphira had accompanied them inside, they would have surly been approached by a large crowd of gawking soldiers. They needed somewhere quiet to talk, so they went back outside. Climbing upon Saphira's back, she flew them up to her and Eragon's room. Eragon laughed when he felt Roran clasp his arms on his shoulders tightly. Eragon laughed again when noticed how pale Roran looked once they had dismounted.
They sat down, and once Roran's face had turned slightly less green, they began to converse.
"Well, the question is, what is left to be done. If we needed to, I suppose we could leave tomorrow, though I would have do leave some of the commitments of my position. I hear that there will be a big war council in the next few weeks. I suppose that I would have time to rescue Katrina and come back for it if we left soon. Curing Elva proved an easier task than I had thought. Though if we stay for a few more days, than I could help prepare you for meeting the Ra'zac. The woman you mentioned earlier – the one that wanted to come with us – you managed to convince her to stay with her son, right?"
Roran nodded and Eragon sighed. It was good that she was not coming. They did not need the burden.
"Well, it's true that I still need you to teach me the ways of the sword, but I think I can manage for now. There will be plenty of time for tutoring later. Besides," He slammed his fist onto his knee for emphasis, "Katrina must come first. Every day we are apart, every moment…" He paused to regain his composure, "she must be saved." He finalized.
"We leave tomorrow then. No more will she sleep in a cold cell, do not worry. Meet me here at dawn. Make sure to be ready to leave by then."
Early the next morning, Eragon sensed a tired Roran trudging down the to his room. Eragon opened the door for him. Roran was wearing a heavy pack full of supplies, and had an odd hammer like tool inserted into his belt. Eragon helped him tie his pack to Saphira's back, where his already was. He asked Roran one last time if he was ready to leave. Roran nodded the affirmative, and they both clambered onto Saphira's harness, Roran looking extremely uncomfortable, though he did not complain.'Saphira, can you take us to the sparring grounds?' Eragon asked, 'I need to run an errand.'
Saphira accepted, and jumped out of the room, hovering for a moment before she flapped her wings and directed them down to the field surrounding the castle.
Roran asked, "Why are we going here? We have no time to spar today! We must rescue Katrina!"
Eragon answered simply, "You and I both need a weapon to fight the Ra'zac. That," he pointed to the hammer tucked into Roran's belt, "will not do."
Roran did not respond, but patted the weapon fondly. He had no intention of getting rid of the weapon that had saved his life and spawned his nickname, Stronghammer.
Eragon went to a nearby weapons rack, and picked out two swords. They weren't exceptional, but the would be sufficient until he could get a proper one. He tied its sheath to his belt, and examining the blade closely, he rested his palm upon it and uttered in the Ancient language, "May this blade be eternally sharp and strong."
He repeated this to the other sword, and brought it over to Roran. Roran took it wordlessly, and attached it to his belt.
Eragon mounted Saphira again, and she took off, flying high into the air, the wind whipping their hair wildly.