ELDEST CHAPTER ELEVEN
"Focus, Elva. One mistake can tear the world asunder." Angela hovered above Elva, her legs crossed as her hair gently lifted around her face.
"You keep saying that, and it is really starting to make me feel like I actually will mess up, and tear the fabric between the world of Shades and ours apart." Elva answered starkly as sweat formed on her brow, sliding down the curve of her cheeks and down the nape of her neck. Fire, red fire, not the blue flames of mages, crisply burned in a tight circle in her open palm. Her legs were crossed as well, and she was lifted a foot above the ground, grass waving below her.
"You haven't turned into a Shade yet. So that's something. Now, transmute the flame into water." Angela ordered. Elva's frown grew deeper as she focused in concentration. She changed the properties of the flame, gradually changing the properties of the element. She could feel the fire grow heavier as it turned into liquid, feel the slight heat it gave off lessen, and turn into a calming cool. Finally, a swirling ball of dark water turned in her hands. Elva glanced up at Angela, smiling underneath a head covered with sweat drenched hair. She dropped her hold on the water, and it splashed against her hands and wrists, dripping down the sides of her fingers, onto the land below.
"Good. You have just done what no Mage could ever hope to aspire to. Without the constraints of spoken word, you can easily change magical principles. Transmutation is one of the purest forms of magic there is. You have a long way to go, but it is a start." Angela alighted to the ground, small feet touching down onto the beryl shaded earth. Around them, the Impori gathered their belongings. They were to begin the long trek to Aroughs, were Angela planned to ally with the Varden. Elva didn't know how she felt about that. She had viewed herself, and the Impori, as free individuals, and now they were allying themselves to the Langfelds. The Impori kept the old way of the west alive, as opposed to the eastern half-elf Langfeld line. Still, it was not her place to judge.
Oxen carrying large loads of supplies grunted while men carried dried meat provisions and baskets filled with sun-toasted berries. Hard bread was collected and stored within stone squares covered by thin hide skins, while fresh venison was kept in coolers filled with precious ice from last winter.
"How do you feel, Elva?" Angela asked as she motioned Elva to walk with her. The young girl quickly took up step with her master.
"Confused. These lands are my life. Now I am leaving all of this for a King I am not sure I believe in." Elva said, ashamed at her blunt honestly. Angela gave her an amused half-smile.
"My dragon bones allow me glimpses into the future. I have seen what will soon come to destroy our land. We must learn to drop the false barriers among the races of Alagaesia, and unite as one people."
Elva raised an eyebrow as they stopped, waiting for a train of oxen lumber by.
"And you believe this . . . Orrin Langfeld to be the one who will unite the land?" She questioned. Angela shrugged, giving Elva another grin.
"Honestly, I don't know. What I do know is that he has married a Dwarib. He has several Elf Delan under his banner, and there is a rumor that the Elven Empire has officially joined their cause with him. The Varden has become a beacon to all of the peoples of this world."
"Against Galbatorix. But you have said he is not the real threat." Elva stated, walking forward again as wind passed through the empty space between them. They had camped on a large stony hill, and the land below was shaded by a thin veil of morning fog. Angela looked down at the area that lied underneath their gaze, blue eyes reflecting deep thought. Elva watched Angela for a moment, and then turned her own eyes away. Finally, the woman spoke.
"Galbatorix is not evil. He never was. Nothing is truly evil. This is not a war of good versus bad, but rather a battle of will. The people that fight Galbatorix now seek revenge. They seek land they lost. They want closure. But none of those things are inherently good."
"Not even revenge?" Evla questioned, feeling like a child when she saw Angela grace her with a long-suffering smirk.
"We can delude ourselves into thinking revenge is justice. But what is it? There will always be innocent parties involved. If you killed a man who killed me, for instance, would you call that revenge?" Angela asked.
"Yes . . . I think." Elva answered.
"And what if that man had a son? Would it be justice if he sought your death for killing his father? Is he inherently evil because of his father's actions?" Angela tested. Elva looked down at her pale hands, tracing the lines on them with her eyes.
"No. He would be like me." She said, finally.
"Revenge is not justice. And this war is a battle of Revenge. I plan to join the Langfelds because they have most of the realm united under their banner. I will see if Galbatorix can see reason . . . he is no fool. But I fear that portions of Golhlobor have invaded the world already. It is possible that Galbatorix may be under the influence of his power."
"But Golhlobor was sealed long ago. How is that possible?"
Angela scrunched her nose, as if she smelled something foul.
"I don't know how it is possible. But I sense an awareness from across the realm of the dead, evil eyes watching world events. Waiting. I believe that in his last moments, Golhlobor separated his consciousness, so that he could persist in the living world until the time came to where he would be complete again, so he could attempt to destroy all life for a second time."
Elva could not imagine a greater evil. The fact that this Golhlobor had so much power . . . and what's more, such an intense intelligence he could plan that far ahead in the future . . . Elva shivered as she wrapped her arms around a thin body.
"It looks like everyone is ready." Angela announced happily, clapping her hands together.
"Go fetch Solembum. I wish to speak with him."
Elva's eyes widened.
"But you said-"
"You are officially no longer under my watch, little one. You can have your freedom again, and speak to the Xoshan. But if you do anything so foolish again . . . well, okay, three more times, your punishment will be very severe." Angela said, still grinning. Elva yelped in unbidden glee, and scampered off to go find Solembum, after which they would go South, to join the war effort. Despite herself, Elva was excited. She would finally get a chance to test her powers.
(Line Break)
Nasuadon barely contained his rage. A handsome dark brown face frowned while slanted eyes thinned, muscled arms crossing a broad chest. A fishnet tunic covered his torso, while the cloak of the Dusk Riders proudly hung on his shoulder.
"How do you know?" He asked. Nasuada's face was dimly lit in her dark room, a candle wavered in light, giving his sister a strangely haunting face. Silver tears glistened as they traveled down her cheeks, absorbing the orange light that was given off by the waxen dip that sat on her study.
"I have felt it," She gasped. "I can feel him inside me."
Nasuadon remembered what they had done to Murtagh. He couldn't imagine what they would do to his sister.
"How could you be so foolish?" He spat, and she shied away from his words. Dark hair fell over her face, while a hand covered a gasping mouth.
"I loved him, brother. I loved him. I betrayed Murtagh. And now-" She moved her hand away from quivering lips, and placed it on a stomach covered by a white dress, a small bump visible from underneath the clothing.
"I don't understand. It would have to have been conceived before the battle of Farthen Dur." Nasuadon said, placing both hands on his partially shaved head.
"It happened on the ship. When we sailed to the Dwarib." Nasuada whispered. Nasuadon remembered that night, remembered talking with Murtagh above deck, as the moon shone over the glimmering dark sea.
"You should be showing more . . . this is not a normal pregnancy." Nasuadon said carefully. He was right- It had been about seven months since Farthen Dur, that bitter battle that effectively splintered the Varden. They had won Aroughs, but Nasuadon knew the next battles would not be so easy. The North was buckling under Morzan's assault.
Murtagh's father.
His unborn nephew's Grandfather.
"You said you know it is a boy?" Nasuadon interrogated. His sister gave him a sad smile.
"Yes. I have started seeing him in my dreams. He appears to me as a young boy, Nasuadon. His skin is like the tawny sand of our home. His eyes are a dark green, and his hair is long, so long. He speaks to me." Nasuada's smile faded.
"What does he say?" Nasuadon pressured.
"He says he loves me. He says that he will come soon, and he says he cannot wait to see me. But he also looks sad. His eyes are the ones of a child that has seen death. Hollow and questioning."
"Madness!" Nasuadon screamed. "They will kill you, Nasuada!" Nasuadon turned away from her as she began weeping anew.
"I have to find Murtagh. The Twins helped him escape. I believe I know where they took him."
"Where?" Nasuada asked. Nasuadon's eyes darkened as he turned to face her.
"Uru'baen." He said coldly.
"What good would that do? Why would finding him help us?"
"If you have the child here, questions will be asked. If you have it here, talk will spread. It is no secret you were fond of Murtagh. A half-Jahadman child with green eyes- Who else could the father be? We will need to travel to Uru'baen. And somehow, you will have to find a way for Murtagh to forgive you."
Before Nasuada could answer, Nasuadon spoke again.
"We leave tonight. Pack your things. Tell not one soul. I will not leave you to die, sister. I promise you."