Chapter Five

Black Prophecy

For the next few months Ravana lived alone in his cave. When he was thirsty he'd descend the slope to the river, and when he was tired he slept in his cave. Food was of more concern. There simply wasn't enough in the area to fill the stomach of a full-grown dragon. And so, by necessity, he began to roam. But not during the day. He'd learned an important lesson in that regard. Though his black scales meant he was instantly recognisable, they also made him a perfect night-hunter. In the evenings he would leave his cave and take to the skies, flying out from the mountains to seek prey. There were plenty of large animals out on the plains, and he perfected his technique to catch them. Floating silently overhead, he would choose a target with his golden eyes, then descend on the animal, claws-first, usually bearing it away before it had time to start running. What he didn't do was develop a discerning taste. Cows, horses, sheep, goats and deer… he tasted them all. If they belonged to anyone, he didn't care. A dragon needs little food for its size, and one kill was usually enough for several days. Still, he generally chose to fly every night, enjoying not only the exercise, but also the knowledge that nobody knew he was up there. He was a shadow, moving silently over the landscape. A killer. Unstoppable, inescapable. He loved it.

He often remembered the killing of the elven scouting party with pride, and sometimes thought it would be good to kill more of them. Their meat tasted sweet, but their fear was sweeter. That was why, one night, he began to search for signs of them. He picked up their scent, mixed with the scent of woodsmoke. He could also smell burning meat, and was puzzled by that. Did it mean they were already dead? Perhaps other dragons had already killed them. But when he went to investigate, he found no such thing.

There was a large elven encampment, hidden amongst some trees. Thin plumes of smoke rose from cooking fires lit carefully at tree-bases so that the firelight would be invisible from the air. But the elves didn't expect attack during the night, and were being relatively incautious. He could hear their weird, high voices and the clink of the metal objects they used in place of teeth and claws. Ravana bared his own teeth pleasurably. Killing this lot would be as easy as crushing a bird's egg.

He began his descent, silent except for the rustle of his wings. When he was directly overhead, he breathed in deeply, and blasted the treetops with fire. The leaves withered immediately, and soon half the trees were alight. Ravana heard shouting from below, and took this opportunity to announce his presence. He roared and dropped into the midst of the camp. It was full of pale creatures, running in all directions like ants. Ravana struck out at them with his claws and tail, easily felling them. It was amazing how easily they died. Laughing aloud, the black dragon began to rampage through the trees, killing elves right and left. He wasn't angry this time; this was just a game to him. A killing game.

But the elves were not helpless. This time there were a lot more of them. They fought back, hurling spears and javelins which lodged themselves in his scales. Some of them found the vulnerable spots where the scales had yet to grow back. The pain of it at first made him angry, but before he knew it he was bleeding from a dozen wounds. There were thousands of elves, all angry and ready to fight, none fleeing. They weren't afraid. No, they were afraid. But they faced him just the same.

Suddenly, it occurred to Ravana that perhaps they were dangerous, even to him. He rushed at them, mouth wide open. He had forgotten something important.

An elf shouted a word, and fire burst over his scales. He spat his own flames back, killing several elves, but others shouted words as well, and these words had strange effects. Heavy rocks lifted themselves off the ground and hurled themselves at him. He felt freezing cold and burning hot by turns. Then his limbs seized up. A weakness, a paralysis, spread over his body. Unable to move, he tottered clumsily to the ground and lay still, snarling but helpless. At once the pale creatures swarmed over him, binding his legs and wings together. Others bound his mouth so he couldn't flame or bite. It was all over in minutes, that there was nothing he could do to stop it. He heard them shouting, triumphant and bloodthirsty. And then he smelled a familiar scent. He looked around with difficulty, and saw a familiar shape approaching.

'What are you doing?' Eragon yelled. 'It needs killing!'

'No, Eragon,' said another elf. 'We have to keep it alive.'

'Why? Leigas, are you mad? This is the one that-,'

'Yes, we know that, Eragon,' Leigas said patiently. 'Listen to me. Listen. It's not going anywhere, so listen to me for a minute. The dragons hate this creature as much as we do. If we bring it to them alive, and kill it while they're watching, they'll be grateful to us for getting rid of it. Hm? Don't you think that might help us end this?'

'I want to be the one to kill it,' Eragon insisted.

'It's an evil thing to be driven by vengeance,' Leigas said. 'You should try and let go of your anger, Eragon.'

'Damn your morals,' Eragon swore, and stormed off.

For the rest of the night and into the next day, Ravana lay in the middle of the camp. The magical paralysis wore off in time, but when he immediately tried to break the ropes holding him they wouldn't break. They cut painfully into him, and they were attached to others which were secured to nearby trees and rocks. He couldn't free his limbs, and he couldn't drag himself away. Nor could he use his fire. They had cast some sort of spell on him which froze up his flame ducts and locked that weapon away.

So he could do nothing to stop them doing what they liked to him. But to their credit, they didn't take the opportunity to cause him pain. They pulled their weapons out of him, and even put some sort of salve on the wounds to stop them becoming infected. It wasn't because they cared about his suffering, though – they didn't want to risk him dying before they could present him to the other dragons as a peace offering.

Two days passed, while the elves tended to their wounded and sent out funeral processions to bear the dead back home. They repaired their tents and weapons, cooked their meals in the evenings, and generally went about their business without acknowledging Ravana's presence. He watched them impotently, wanting and willing to escape and kill them all, but in the end his anger gave way to exhausted resignation. They were the masters of his fate now. If they wanted to kill him then they could, and he wouldn't be able to prevent it.

Then one night, two days after his capture, something happened. It was well dark and the elves were sleeping, when the one called Eragon quietly came to Ravana's side. He was clad in black and had a hard look on his face. But, most astonishingly, he had a young dragon by his side. The dragon was bright golden yellow like sunlight, and very small; about the size of a large dog. The two came to Ravana's head, unafraid of him.

Ravana moaned softly, one eye swivelling to look at them. Eragon stood right by his eye, while the yellow dragon took up station beside him. They looked perfectly easy in each other's company, even affectionate, often glancing at each other. They moved in perfect time, as if they were extensions of the same person.

Eragon put a hand on the dragon's head. His lips didn't move, but to his shock, Ravana heard a voice. It was an internal voice, not an external one. He could hear it in the ear of his mind. It was like his own thoughts, but it didn't belong to him. And he understood it perfectly, just like his thoughts.

'Do you hear me, black dragon? My name is Eragon and this is my dragon. Her name is Sunlight.'

'This makes no sense!' Ravana thought wildly.

'Yes it does,' said the voice. 'I am speaking to you through the mind. Sunlight taught me how.'

'One of your kind and a dragon together… why?'

'I don't know,' Eragon's voice confessed. 'I found a dragon egg. It hatched into Sunlight, and when I touched her we became linked. You see this?' He held up a hand. Ravana saw a pale, silvery mark on the palm. 'I hope you know that if I were free I would kill you,' he threatened.

'Yes. That's why I'm leaving you tied up.'

'Why have you come to me?' Ravana asked, almost plaintively. 'Why am I even here? Your kind… whatever you are, can't have any use for me. I want to go home.'

'You don't know who we are?' said Eragon. He sounded shocked.

'No. How could I? Nobody has ever spoken to me before.'

'I thought dragons were raised by their parents,' said Eragon.

'My parents are dead, little one,' Ravana told him.

'So… you've never spoken to another dragon in your life?' said a voice in his head. But this one wasn't Eragon's. The yellow dragon, Sunlight, had stood up her hind legs, and was looking intently at him through her pale-blue eyes.

'No,' said Ravana.

'Don't speak to him, Sunlight,' Eragon said. 'He's dangerous.'

Sunlight paid no attention. She looked curious now, even compassionate. 'What is your name?' she asked.

'Ravana, I think,' said Ravana.

'You grew up on your own?'

'Yes. Alone.'

'Why do you kill elves and dragons?' asked Sunlight. 'Eragon says you killed my mother.'

'Because they're my enemies,' said Ravana.

'Why?' Sunlight persisted.

'He's evil, Sunlight,' Eragon broke in sharply. 'He doesn't need any other reason.'

'Who gave you those scars?' said Sunlight, gently touching the marks on Ravana's face.

'A giant blue dragon,' said Ravana. 'I was just a youngster, and he tried to kill me.'

'Do you know why?' said Sunlight.

'No. I was lonely. I looked for other dragons. I found them. They were… dancing. I wanted to join them, but they attacked me. I nearly died. And your kind,' he looked accusingly at Eragon, 'You tried to kill me too. So I went back to my home. Then more of you came and disturbed me. I was afraid of you, so I attacked.'

'And my mother?' Sunlight asked levelly.

'She was in my parents' home. The cave was mine. She stole it. So I killed her and took it back.'

Sunlight whimpered a little, and withdrew her claws from his face. She looked to Eragon, her eyes bright and frightened. He looked back, but his resolution was tempered with confusion now. 'You killed my brothers,' he accused, turning back to Ravana.

'What is a brother?' said Ravana.

'It means you have the same parents. Brothers love each other,' said Eragon.

'I do not know love,' said Ravana.

'I loved them,' Eragon said quietly. 'And now they're dead.'

'And soon I will be dead too,' said Ravana, matter-of-factly. 'Your people will kill me.'

'You sound as if you don't care.'

'I don't.'

That was a lie, Sunlight thought. She looked at her friend, and then at the black dragon. She knew that Eragon wanted him dead, and she felt she should want him dead, too. After all, he had killed her mother. And so many of the elves she loved. But she found that though she had the motivation, she didn't have the will. She wanted to tell Eragon, but didn't know how to express it to him. She could feel his confusion. He was often confused. She wondered if he knew what she was feeling, because she didn't.

'I think we should tell him the legend,' she said.

'What is a legend?' said Ravana.

'An old story,' said Sunlight.

'It's a prophecy,' said Eragon. 'Don't be silly, Sunlight. He already knows it.'

'Don't be silly yourself,' said Sunlight. 'How can he know when he has been alone so long?'

Eragon hesitated. 'But… he's got to know, hasn't he?'

'Do you know the legend?' Sunlight asked Ravana.

'No,' said Ravana. 'What legend is this?'

'An elvish legend,' said Sunlight. 'Eragon, will you tell it, or will I?'

'You tell it,' said Eragon rather crabbily. 'I don't wish to speak to this creature any more.'

'There is a prophecy which elves often speak of,' said Sunlight, paying no attention to her friend's irritability. 'It tells of a dragon who will hatch from a black egg. His mother will be cursed, invaded by evil spirits in her youth so that her first and only egg will be black. The egg will be laid on a stormy day, and if not destroyed it will hatch into a black dragon. This dragon will join with an evil man, and together the two of them will bring sorrow and destruction to all of Alagaesia.'

'I was laid on a stormy day,' said Ravana. 'But I know nothing of this evil man.'

'There's more,' said Sunlight. 'The black dragon will be of royal blood on his father's side. He will be outcast from his kind, and enemy to both elves and dragons. Since he was born on a stormy day, he will have the power to summon such weather whenever his life is threatened. Lightning will strike down those who threaten him, and he will hide in darkened clouds to escape his enemies. He will be the only dragon who can fly safely in a storm.'

Ravana remembered the storm. Had he really summoned it? Surely that was impossible. But he thought about that day, and recalled how the clouds had turned from white to black when he sought their protection. Lightning had been everywhere, but he hadn't been afraid of it.

'And we know you can control storms,' Eragon broke in. 'My mother told me. She was there when the other dragons attacked you. They all saw you make the clouds go dark. So don't lie. You knew the prophecy, and if we hadn't caught you then you'd go and find this man. You're evil.'

'I never heard this prophecy until today,' Ravana insisted. 'I have never met this thing, this… man. What is a man?'

'They are like elves, a little,' said Sunlight. 'Men are cruder, louder and less long-lifed than elves. I have never seen one, but Eragon has told me of them. Elves may be newer to this place than dragons are, but men are still younger. The elves don't mix with them, and they have taken no part in this war between dragons and elves.'

'That's enough talk,' said Eragon. 'We must kill it, Sunlight. It is not to be trusted.'

'His name is Ravana,' Sunlight said coldly. 'And I pity him.'

'He killed your mother, Sunlight! Have you forgotten that?'

'No. But he is the only other dragon I have ever met. And he is alone. You have your family, and I have you. What does this dragon have?'

'He has the blood of my brothers on his claws,' said Eragon, unmoved.

'How is that you make things happen?' Ravana asked suddenly. 'You make fire out of nothing, and make things move without touching them. What is this power?'

'Magic,' said Sunlight. 'Elves learned how to use it, but it's said dragons can use it too.'

'How?' said Ravana. He sounded completely unafraid, even in the face of Eragon's desire to kill him.

'It's simple,' Sunlight said without thinking. 'Magic is performed through the word and the will – you say a word and concentrate on its effect. The spell to make something unbreakable is "stringerra", and the focus is on strength. Every spell has its opposite.'

'So the strength spell is undone by speaking the word for weakness?' Ravana guessed.

'Sunlight!' Eragon shouted.

'Yes,' said Sunlight. 'Eragon, what's wrong with you? He wants someone to speak to him. He's lonely. Won't you let me-?'

Ravana lay placidly and listened to them arguing. Finally Eragon said – aloud – 'Sunlight, this is ridiculous. We can't show weakness in front of him. He's-,'

The word he used was 'wekethra'. Weakness!

With the mightiest of efforts, Ravana opened his mouth a fraction. The rope slipped a little. It was just enough. 'Wekethra!' he shouted.

At once the ropes holding his mouth shut broke. He reared upright, thrusting his wings and legs apart. The ropes fell away, useless as if they were mere threads, and he was free. Ravana laughed aloud, a deep, booming laugh. He shook off the last of his bonds. Alerted by the noise, elves were coming running from everywhere to see what was going on. They were in time to see the sinister shape of the black dragon, freed from his restraints.

Ravana lowered his huge head until his eyes were level with the terrified Eragon and Sunlight.

'I thank you, tiny ones,' he thought to them. 'And especially you, yellow dragon. Since you set me free, I will not kill you. Goodbye.'

He leapt into the air, taking flight before anyone could summon magic or raise a bow. Even then they might have attacked from the ground… but then they smelled the fresh, green smell in the air, and realised that the stars were gone from the sky. Lightning struck a tree, which split asunder.

It started to rain.