Eldest Chapter 25
Eragon trained for what seemed like months. Under the watchful eye of Oromis, he felt his powers grow. His mind was filled with tales of ancient heroes, secrets and horrors that gripped the world years long since passed. He was taught new spells, powerful and dangerous words that could end lives of men with little more than a whisper. The Spirit inside him, now tamed, allowed Eragon to control blood, and while Oromis could not perform bloodmagic, he was knowledgeable in that regard. Every waking moment Eragon learned from Oromis- when he was not being taught the different schools of magic, he was taught how to use the blade in battle. When those lessons finished, he was then instructed in the tongue of the Laen Elves. It was then, after rigorous trials, Oromis deemed Eragon ready. The boy stood on the edge of a grassy plain, the starry sky above him glowing with an unnatural aura. Oromis' illusion world had been home to him for ages. But as Oromis had explained earlier, time passed slower in this realm. When he returned to the outside world, he mused that no more than three weeks had passed. And now, that moment had come.
Eragon wore new clothing. A dark blue sash crossed his chest, an ebony tunic underneath it. At his waist, a cape was tied, the deep blue cloth trailing the length of his similarly colored greaves. Heavy gloves covered his arm to the elbow, and his now-long hair was tied into a ponytail that reached the middle of his back, revealing the full profile of his eagle-like features. A closely trimmed beard hugged his pointed chin, and light brown pupils shined in the glow of the artificial stars above.
"Are you ready?" Oromis asked. Eragon turned his head slightly and glanced at the Elf. He was ready. He would see Saphira again- and his friends. He missed Prince Orik's songs; he yearned for Cambion's long suffering smiles, Elonubum's antics, and Aerion's deep laughter. But most of all he missed Arya. The day that the two of them spent underneath the flower tree is what fueled him during his training. He remembered the softness of her lips, the slight impression of her breasts as she pressed against him. The smell of her alone tantalized him . . . but would they accept him back? Or would they see him as a monster? Eragon had conquered the Spirit, but Oromis said it could return.
Negative emotion fuels it, Eragon. Control your anger, and you will control it. But if you let hatred through . . . . . it will be able to corrupt your soul once more. And if that occurs, the possession will be absolute.
Eragon swallowed hard, moving roguish bangs that refused to join his ponytail away from brown eyes.
"Let's return to Gillendel." Eragon affirmed, and Oromis lifted his hand as a swirling ball of light formed before them. It widened with a low groan, growing larger and larger as the whine increased in pitch to an eerie scream. The light expanded even further, Oromis stepped forward and then looking back at Eragon.
"Let's go." He said simply, and entered the light. Eragon hesitated for a moment, gathered his resolve, and followed Oromis into the strange formation as his skin tingled, the feeling akin to ants running over his flesh. He felt a whoosh of air, and then inhaled deeply as his nostrils were filled with the sweet and almost alien smells of Gillendel. He opened his eyes slowly, and he saw Arya smiling back at him. Surprised, he stepped backward, tumbling over a root and falling on the trunk of a tree. Blushing, he looked about him. They were in Ellesmera, but they were not within the cityscape of Gillendel. Rather, they were out in a remote forest with ancient trees, meaning that they were beyond the statue of Aryan, where the landscape was allowed to grow free, without Elven intervention. Roots snaked all about them, while a screen of bright green leaves formed a massive wall on all sides. Waving gently in the breeze, the leaves reminded Eragon of rippling water. But that was all. There were no birds . . . no other small forest animals. Squirrels did not jump tree to tree, and even the bugs that would normally buzz about Eragon's ears were silent. There was nothing . . . no life save for the heartbeats of their own bodies.
"Arya. I'm surprised you found us here." Oromis started while Eragon rose to his feet. Arya wore a white robe that wrapped around her chest, leaving her right shoulder bare. The robe continued all the way to the middle of her legs, and on her small feet leather sandals were tied. The black-and-blonde hair of House Valbhorethlian was let down proudly, framing her square face as sharply slanted eyes with a green color that rivaled that of the leaves beside her.
"I sensed your magic, uncle. I was nearby." She answered shortly as Oromis gave her a quizzical glance.
"Nearby? The only thing close to here is-"
"The tombs of Dorethelyam."
Oromis frowned. "I see you have been doing your research. Most call that place the tombs of Aryan." Eragon glanced between the two Elves. In all of his teaching, Oromis had never spoken of tombs. Arya noticed Eragon's confusion, her mouth turning downwards.
"I see Oromis has not informed you of Dorethelyam." She said curtly.
"I had been planning on showing them to him now. That is why we are here." Oromis said, nodding towards Eragon.
"I visited the tombs because of the Shade Cambion. He says that Golhlobor has already awoken. According to the ancient texts, he should not be complete . . . but the fact that a portion of his form has been able to materialize . . . "
Oromis shook his head quickly. "What you speak of is impossible. The seals that lie in Dorethelyam contain his prison. Only the blood of a Valbhorethlian could undo it. The Sealed Elves have been using the blood of Laen Elves, humans, and Xoshans to weaken the seal in their black flames . . . but even then, it would take oceans of blood to even begin to damage it."
Arya's eyes looked hollow as she spoke.
"That is what I went to investigate. The seal . . . is no longer. A fake one stood in its place, identical to the original. But when I attempted to strengthen the seal, it crumbled into a pile of dust. It was the work of transmutation."
Oromis was silent for a long while. He walked away from them, placing his hand on a nearby tree trunk as he stared off into nothingness. Arya simply watched him silently, while Eragon tried to get a sense of what was going on. If this Golhlobor was free, did that mean all was lost? He was then aware of the absence of birds and other creatures. What other reason would they have to flee, if not Golhlobor?
"It was the Suhureliel Omshurtag. Your older sister. She is the only one capable of such a feat. She must have used some of her own blood to weaken the seal . . . and then give it to the Sealed Elves. Then she replaced it with her magic. But why . . .?" Oromis turned to face them, his eyes narrowed to slits.
"Why would she betray all life to Golhlobor? She is . . . she is truly mad." Oromis said with a hint of sadness. Suddenly, Oromis' face hardened as he looked back up at Eragon, and then Arya.
"You two must return to Gillendel. The Spring Fertility lasts only for one more week. After that, the Sealed Elf offensive will begin. We must be ready to meet them on the field of battle." Oromis ordered. Arya looked at Eragon from the corner of her eye.
"Is he prepared for war?" She asked. Eragon grinned at her as he flexed his fingers.
"Tainyu oro basolen Arya. (You'll have trouble keeping up, Arya.)" Eragon responded, in perfect Elvish. A small smile touched her lips.
"Perhaps you are not so useless after all."
On foot, they left the thick forests that bordered the tombs. Eragon wanted to see them, but they could waste no time. As they walked, Arya informed him of the current situation.
"Cambion required a new body after your rampage. One of the Elves you killed was not maimed too badly . . ."
Eragon felt sick as he remembered his killing spree.
"Your people . . ." He started.
"They want justice. But they also realize that it was not you who killed their kin. However, they will be wary of you."
Eragon shook his head, forcing the images of violence out of his mind.
"What of Brom? Have you heard of him? Has he returned?" He questioned. Arya looked away from him as wind whispered between them, causing her hair to cross her face.
"No, we have not."
Brom . . . please be alive. Eragon prayed to himself.
"Glaedr should finish his training with Saphira. Once the two of you are reunited, Oromis will surely teach you how to ride." Arya said, changing the subject.
"Is she large enough now?" Eragon felt his heart beat with excitement. He had been longing the day when he could take to the skies with Saphira.
"I believe so. But it will be Oromis' decision. With the Spring Fertility nearly at a close-"
"What is that?" Eragon interrupted.
"What is what?" Arya gave Eragon an annoyed expression.
"Spring Fertility . . . I keep hearing that."
"It is the time period for Elves to copulate. During the Spring is the only time a child can be conceived." Eragon blushed as Arya gave him a quizzical look.
"It is perfectly normal. Are you so juvenile that you cannot handle such a subject?" She gave him a frown. Eragon placed a hand on his head, rubbing fingers through his hair as he shrugged.
"Well . . . I . . . " He began, and nearly jumped when Arya began laughing.
"I am being playful, Eragon Drakefyre." She smiled warmly at him as they paused underneath the towering statue of Aryan.
"I like it when you say my full name." Eragon said softly as Arya placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Are you scared, Eragon? Scared of what the future will bring?" She looked into his eyes, deeper than anyone has before.
Eragon remembered the kiss they had shared- the awkward but beautiful seconds of perfect pairing between them. He felt his face grow hot, and despite himself he took her hand into his own.
"I am. But we cannot be afraid. There is only one option before us . . . and that is to go forward. No fear can stop us, Arya. If it does . . . the world is lost." She looked at him for a long while, her mouth crooked in a half-smile. Silence passed in the space that took up residence betwixt the two. Arya drew Eragon closer to her, Arya's face inches away from his own.
" We are both afraid. I fear my sister, Eragon. I fear the for my people . . . and I fear for you." Arya looked away from him for a moment, her eyes on the white alabaster skyline of Gillendel in the distance.
"For some time . . . I tried to reject you, Eragon. I don't understand why I feel the way I do . . . Frankly I do not want to. You're a human . . . and a child besides . . . but as I grew to know you I . . . " Arya fell silent then, tears welling up in her eyes.
"You have no idea how difficult this is. My feelings for you . . . they go against every fiber of my mind and body. But there is no one else I would rather be with . . . Ey elska tuos." Eragon held Arya fully now, holding her in his arms.
"I love you too, Arya Valbhorethlian." Eragon felt Arya pull him to the ground, felt the soft grass as it brushed against his skin. Her head was resting in a bed of jade. Her hair splayed against it like the feathers of a peacock, spreading in a large circle around her face. She pulled his head down to hers, and kissed Eragon with a panic lust. Breathing deeply he broke away as she began to unclothe him.
"Arya . . . " He began, but she shook her head and scowled at him.
"This is our only chance. In a few days, we could all be dead. I want you, Eragon."
She dragged his head back to hers, sliding a small mouth in tandem with Eragon's.
On the high hill of Aryan, Eragon and Arya conceived a child.