-ELDEST CHAPTER SEVENTEEN-
(A/N) I was re-reading my chapters and I noticed I gave everyone long hair. Lol. I guess I have a thing for characters with flowing locks. (Cue picture of spongebob riding a seahorse with long blonde hair waving in the wind)
"ERAGON."
Drakefyre opened his eyes slowly, sleep crumbling off of him akin to how a bear shakes off accumulated snow from its fur. He raised himself in his bed, and found Cambion standing at the foot of his mattress. Saphira's mind roused with his, despite the fact she was some distance away; kept in the large gardens of Islanzadi's gigantic dwelling.
"Cambion, it's still early." Eragon muttered as he shook his hair. Uncut for the entire time he had been in Ellesmera, his dark brown locks (highlighted with red) Reached the bottom of his sharp jaw. Over-taxed muscles ached from his last training session, a reminder of his weakness.
"I know, Drakefyre." Cambion said silently as he moved around the mattress and to Eragon's side, assisting the novice Rider out of bed.
"But there is something you must know." Cambion locked eyes with Eragon though a shield of bright-blue hair.
"What is it?" Eragon asked warily. Cambion looked away from the boy as he left his shoulder, Eragon now able to stand on his own. Eragon furrowed his brows and stepped forward, wearing nothing but his bedclothes.
"What has happened?" He pressured as a loud snoring grunt came from the still-sleeping Orik.
" I only tell you this due to the fact you will find out today. The Spirit within you . . . It would be able to take advantage of your uncontrolled emotion. You must remain calm." Cambion placed his hands into one another, pressing flat palms together.
"As a Shade, I am constantly aware of the passing between life and death. As souls rejoin the earth, they are sensitive to my awareness. I learned some time ago that you had a brother named Roran who was stationed in Gil'ead." Cambion started. Eragon nodded, confused.
"Yes, I know this. He beat the initial Imperial attacks." Eragon brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes, frowning.
"The Forsworn named Morzan defeated the North. Gil'ead fell not long ago. There was an explosion of death in the area." Cambion looked away from Eragon once more. He went silent, his mouth turning downwards.
"Tell me what happened to Roran." Eragon hissed. Cambion raised his hand towards Eragon, eyes growing bright.
"You need to control your emotion. I feel it. The Spirit." He warned. Eragon spat to the floor, turning away from Cambion and placing his hands on his head.
What's wrong? Saphira sounded in his mind.
Roran. Something has happened to Roran.
Eragon . . .
Saphira knew.
Where did you find out? How did you hear?
My dwelling is close to where the Queen takes her walks. She was speaking with the Laen Elf Triumvirate leader, who had news of the defeat. He was told of Morzan, and how he singled out a human called Roran Magebane, according to reports. The surviving mages scryed these tidings to the Varden, who then warned the Elves.
Is he dead, Saphira?
I do not know.
Eragon faced Cambion again, eyes narrowed.
"Saphira knew of what happened. I know what has transpired with Roran." He told Cambion with anger coloring his voice.
"I am so sorry, Drakefyre. There may be hope for him. It is possible he survived." Cambion lowered his head.
" If half these stories about Morzan are true, there is no hope for that. None at all. I . . . I never said goodbye to him. I was angry with him. I . . . I gave up hope for Garrow . . . And I failed to tell Roran of Garrow's end. Now . . . "
Their chamber doors opened as Arya strode through. She was already dressed for the day- wearing her black cloth tunic with smooth-silk trousers that gave away her thin and athletic curves. Her sword waited on a simple leather belt. Eragon's heart sped up when she gave him a quick glance, remembering the kiss she had given him the day before.
"Eragon. Cambion." She looked towards Orik's bed, to find the Dwarib prince still sleeping.
"He knows. Saphira has told him." Cambion informed as Arya's eyes widened.
" I am sorry, Eragon. Morzan will not be able to . . ." She dropped her gaze from his, voice failing at the last moment. Eragon stepped to her, only for Arya to look up and give him a chilling look that placed a dozen walls between them.
"Get dressed. We are to train today." She said. Turning with grace, she left the room.
Cambion retrieved Eragon's clothing : A sleeveless vest and dark brown leather leggings. Eragon dressed emotionlessly, forcing himself to feel no sorrow, lest the Spirit inside him attempt to find a root to make itself present through him. Still, Arya's strange actions confused him.
Are women always this confusing? He asked Saphira as he pulled his shirt over his body.
Only the Elf ones. At least she isn't a dragon. If she were, you'd probably be in her belly.
Eragon smiled at Saphira's jest as he pulled his pants over his legs. As he left the room, Cambion took up step with him.
"I will leave with you, Drakefyre." He said politely. Eragon nodded as they left their shared chambers, finding a waiting Arya with crossed arms, leaning on the opposite wall. She left her stance with a kick, and then began to lead them through the long halls of the palace. They moved through the courtyard as Sealed Elves carried out various functions, the only sound Eragon heard being that of the trickling fountain. The sun rose against a purple sky as they walked through sparsely occupied streets. They moved towards the back borders of Ellesmera, behind the palace. They passed the statue of Aryan, a gigantic figure that forced one to think of the intellect, power, and beauty of the Laen Elves. Eragon saw the familiar hills, the same green trees as they wavered beautifully in the morning breeze.
It was not long before they reached the white pillared building, several young elves entering at the same time. There was a scatter of laughter as one of them whispered something in their distinct tongue, eying Eragon with amusement. If Arya heard, she did not do anything to come to his defense. Cambion simply huddled close to Eragon as they stepped onto the raised white stone of the structure.
"Remember, keep yourself under control." Cambion whispered into Eragon's ear as they walked into the training room. The familiar square match area had been washed from the day before, while elves took up seats around it, crossing their legs on padded cushions. Arya and Cambion found their places on the square, away from most of the students.
"Headmaster, I have first match today, correct?" Eragon asked as he stepped onto the cool stone of the small arena. The elf nodded, not bothering to answer Eragon vocally. A young novice brought a dulled sword to Eragon, who took it readily. He swung the blade as his muscles slowly readied themselves. As a Rider, he had a faster recovery time as opposed to humans.
"Boy," An elf stepped onto the arena as another young child brought him a sword. Eragon knew the elf as Faythil Tenau, a privileged noble, according to Arya. Faythil had defeated Eragon on every occasion they had fought, and due to this the Headmaster continually matched them against each other. Eragon had learned little to nothing in this so called prestigious school; save for getting beaten day after day.
"Let us have a good match, Faythil." Eragon said in goodsport. Faythil chuckled as one of the students rang the match bell. Faythil launched himself at Eragon, sword held behind his back. Eragon stepped backwards as Faythil's open palm struck him in the chest, sending him flying ahead of the elf. Eragon's feet dug at the ground, sliding across the square arena until he steadied himself at the border of it. Already panting, he raised his sword.
"They say you defeated a Shade. I wonder how that is possible." Faythil japed as he renewed his attack. Eragon met him in the middle of the square, blades flashing across each other's bodies. Faythil leapt backwards before turning his retreat into a slashing attempt toward's Eragon's neck. Eragon held up his sword just in time to block the attack. However, the action sent him staggering towards the left. Faythil saw the opening as he swung his sword underneath Eragon's ankle. Eragon nearly fell to the ground, but he caught himself with his hands. Kicking outwards, his foot met Faythil's chin as he vaulted back up to his feet. A murmur of disbelief settled over the young elves.
Eragon bent over to pick up his weapon as Faythil rubbed his jaw. Silent rage took the elf as he jumped to attack Eragon. Eragon's sword thrummed as he deflected the blow, sending Faythil's sword to the right. The elf jumped to Eragon's side, attacking from that direction. Eragon spun on his heels, dodging an attack meant for his waist as he struck at Faythil's upper leg. Faythil jumped over the attack, landing on the flat side of Eragon's blade. Eragon grunted in surprise as Faythil pulled him closer by the collar and crashed his head against Eragon's nose.
Stars filled Eragon's line of sight as he stepped backward, blood pouring from his new wound. Faythil sped forward, hurling a closed fist into Eragon's stomach. The Rider cried out aloud as Faythil's hand dug into him, only to bite down on his tongue as a staggering uppercut sent him into the air. Eragon's back slammed against the square floor of the arena. Coughing, blood sputtered from his mouth.
"Weak." Faythil taunted as he approached. Eragon began to raise himself up, only for Faythil's naked foot to send him back to the flat.
"Humans. So weak. You will never amount to anything, boy. Every one of us outclasses you in speed, intellect, and strength. The world was doomed when the last Rider was seen to be a pathetic son of man."
"Stop him!" Eragon heard Arya cry, first in Elvish. Faythil flashed her a devilish grin as he struck Eragon across the face with his sword. Despite the dulled edge, Eragon felt blood rise as a welt formed on his cheek. The blow stung as he writhed under Faythil's foot.
"You are weak. Your entire family. Everyone you love. Every human is nothing but trash."
Roran.
Garrow.
Death.
"AUGH!" Eragon threw Faythil off of his body. The elf boy landed on his feet, but looked on in surprise, his sword at the ready. Eragon began to laugh manically as he doubled over, his bones cracking and then re-forming. He felt heat rise through him, felt his vision become shared.
The Spirit.
"His hair . . . it's turning red! Cambion!" Arya shouted. Eragon gripped a strand of his hair and looked for himself. The color of it was blood red, the same as Durza's, the shade from what seemed like ages ago.
"So it is, Elf." Eragon answered. A voice lingered behind his own. Faythil began to step off of the square as Eragon's eyes found him.
"No, you don't get away." Eragon hissed. The air shifted, and suddenly Eragon was inches away from Faythil.
Such speed. It gives me speed greater than an elf's.
Faythil sheepishly struck Eragon with his sword, only for Eragon to catch the blade with his hand. Muttering words he did not remember learning, the sword bent into itself and clattered onto the floor. Faythil whimpered in fear as he cowered underneath Eragon's baneful gaze.
Eragon grabbed the elf by the hair and hurled him into the ceiling. Faythil's back cracked as the stone above splintered around the imprint his body made. Faythil landed onto the flat as the Headmaster rushed at Eragon. Eragon howled with delight as he turned into the elf, screaming as his voice sent the Elfman flying across the room. Cambion came near him then, speaking words of calming.
No. Not yet. There hasn't been enough blood. The Spirit said.
I agree. Eragon's twisted mind concurred. He felt himself weaken as he rushed towards Cambion, covering the Shade's mouth, preventing his spellwords to reach Eragon's ears. Eragon picked Cambion up and threw him onto the floor, punching him in the stomach as Cambion's back reached the ground. The Shade cried out as Eragon's blow broke already dead bones.
"Eragon, stop this!" Arya shouted. Yellowed eyes frenetically searched for Arya, until he found her.
Kill her. The Shade said.
I can't, I love her. I-
Arya stood at the entrance of the school, pillars visible from the outside. An arrow sped past her head, and she widened her eyes in surprise as it struck Eragon's heart. Blood bubbled forth from his mouth as Arya screamed. Eragon fell to his knees, catching himself from hitting the ground with shaking hands. Elven arches advanced past Arya, shooting arrow after arrow into his flesh as blood stained the training arena.
Blood.
BLOOD!
Eragon look up with a twisted smile as he sent tendrils of blood into the chests of the elves that fought him. They screamed in surprise as Eragon rose, steadying himself while the blood he controlled delicately pulled arrows from his skin. Wounded flesh healed over in seconds, open gashes closing in gusts of smoke.
Eragon bounded past Arya, finding more elven troops stationed outside of the marital school. A sword of blood formed in both of his open palms, hardening into sharp blades of iron. He hurled himself into the ranks of the elves, cutting through them with ease. Faythil's words spurred him on as he shouted intelligibly, killing with reckless glee while the sound of his bedlam reached a bloody crescendo. He heard Arya weeping, but his mind was so far gone he didn't care. He could feel The Spirit gradually taking control of his movements as his own thoughts were suppressed. A shadow passed over him, large as it eclipsed the light of the sun.
"Eragon, stand down."
Yellow eyes dipped into black pits of sclera saw a golden dragon hovering above.
"Rattae Dracana!" Eragon's shade screamed as it vaulted into the air. The gold dragon turned, massive wings sending gusts of wind to the ground below. Eragon went flying past the dragon, confusion taking the Shade's mind. As he turned, he saw an elf sitting upon the dragon's large back, standing in its saddle.
ELF!
"Eyfani Totaran Gesuhul" The spirit taunted as Oromis drew his sword.
"How dare you speak such a foul tongue in this land." Oromis lowered his head.
"Glaedr, land." He ordered as the dragon let itself fall to the ground. Eragon sped after them, flourishing his swords, aiming for the Rider's neck. Oromis caught Eragon's twin swords, grasping the boy's chin as blue eyes locked onto yellow ones, stepped in evil.
"Be still, spirit!" Oromis shouted. Eragon gasped as the Spirit within him was sent screeching back into the prison of his mind. The iron blades he held vanished into puddles of blood on Glaedr's back. He felt his hair returning to its normal length as strength fled from his body.
"Illusio Teftani."
Eragon's eyes no longer saw Oromis. They no longer saw anything. He was greeted with a black void, and his body felt as if it floated upon nothing.
Cambion . . . Arya . . .
White walls appeared as Eragon fell to the ground of the void he was placed in. Oromis stood before him.
"Drakefyre." He said with contempt in his voice.
"Where . . . I'm sorry . . . I didn't-" Eragon felt tears fall down his cheeks as he gripped his sides.
"You are not a fault. I realize this is my own error. My hate for your ilk has caused me to not see the reason in Islanzadi's request. Had I trained you from the beginning, the ones you killed would still be alive." Oromis sounded sad, then.
"I will show you something. Show you the past. Show you your father." Oromis' voice faded into the background as Eragon felt himself wash away. His eyes saw nothing but blackness, until finally he regarded a giant mirror. But he was not in Ellesmera. He did not know where he was. He wore a bloody shirt and pants, and he saw through the mirror he did not carry his own face. He saw a young boy of perhaps ten, with black hair and green eyes. Two beings: One and elf, another a man with blonde locks and bright vermillion pupils flanked him as the mirror was drawn open.
From the visions of the past, we learn solutions to the future. Watch well, Drakefyre. This is your first lesson. Oromis' voice boomed within Eragon's mind as he walked forward, inside the skin of a boy he had never seen.