BRISINGR
A/N: sorry about the delay :). I've started writing an original work again and it's hard for me to write multiple stories (go figure,)
Thank you for dealing with this story for so long. Huge thanks to the new readers too! Please don't hesitate to review, they don't go unnoticed/unappreciated.
SAPHIRA dived into black clouds. Below, Gillendel passed in a mosaic of bright reds married to onyx blacks. The city was awash in flame, fine marble crumbling under the violent throes of the Sealed.
Saphira's eyes passed over a ruined stretch of homes and markets. Trees that lined cobbled streets coughed black smog that drifted lazily into the air. Corpses crept along formerly bleached sidewalks, looking up to murky clouds within beds of curdling blood.
"We're getting closer." Cambion said. Saphira felt him grip one of her horns as she increased speed.
Saphira could sense them then- Roran and the others. She dived downwards, deeper into the southern district of Veléan.
"What is this world we've been thrown into?" Saphira asked suddenly.
She felt apprehension spark from Cambion, before the Shade dulled his emotions from her touch.
"I've done nothing but watch suffering my entire life." Saphira flared her wings sharply, raising herself slightly above a stretch of mossy aqueducts.
She saw Eragon's village burning in flame. She saw his tears- saw his people cut down. Their screams- she had never heard anything like them.
Even as a hatchling, it was their deaths that pushed her to follow Eragon into the Varden.
Saphira's eyes passed over more bodies. Laen Elf warriors were spread apart, hastily mutilated by chattering Sealed.
"Why can't we prevent senseless slaughter? Why are we always too late?"
"Death will always travel faster than justice." Cambion answered simply.
Saphira's eyes spied a series of camps interposed between a crumbling temple. A flock of trees spread to the left of the curling construction, green leaves standing resplendent in the smoky air.
Saphira shut her eyes, reflecting on Cambion's words.
They flew some distance further, coming to a clearing that stood at the edge of the smattering of trees.
A large war tent stood before a blood-covered field wrought with massive holes that dug into the ground. Spears poked the earth, jutting from bodies that grasped fruitlessly at the weapons that felled them.
Wicked eyes were visible in the night, watching from a manufactured smoke that hid their movements. Glowing glares emanated from the opaque smog- Saphira counted thousands of lantern-like pupils that curled within the black expanse.
As Saphira alighted to the ground she saw an Xoshan peek from the tent.
The dragon's keen eyes recognized Elonubum as the Xoshan ran to meet her.
"Saphira, Cambion!" Elonubum said excitedly. She rushed towards Saphira's wings, marvel painting her face in the night.
"You are a magnificent light within these dark times."
She lifted her shoulders with a shrug.
"Quite literally." Elonubum said, chuckling curtly.
"Arya deemed it wise for us to come here." Cambion said as he dismounted with a soft jump.
Saphira's head raised, looking at the corpse-ridden warfield that hugged the land mere meters away from them. She then saw the eyes that lurked beyond the curve of bloodied hills, blackness enveloping all but the high tips of swaying pines.
Elonubum's face darkened.
"I've never seen anything like this." She rasped.
"A being calling itself Vizcelia fought Arya on the northern battlements," Cambion began. As he spoke, Saphira spotted more movement coming from the war tent.
She felt a familiar presence- close to Eragon's, but distinct and eerily alien. It was something that seemed to exist outside of the physical realm and the one of magic- an oddity.
Roran? Saphira's eyes widened in surprise upon seeing the man. He was larger, with longer hair and a body honed by constant fighting. His eyes were nearly hollow- Saphira could easily tell he was quickly approaching his limit.
"It summoned the Sealed within Gillendel itself." Saphira finished, speaking vocally for Roran's sake. The human (if she could still call him such) looked upon her with surprise.
"Eragon," he said almost breathlessly. He did not marvel at her like the others- he simply looked at her with a tired, begging gaze.
"He's not here. Not yet. Arya has a plan. Hope is not lost yet." Saphira said coolly.
Roran scoffed.
"We're waiting to die while also waiting for them." He spoke with quiet harshness. A war hammer was strapped to his back- it was flecked with dried blood.
He walked past Saphira, past them all. She turned her long neck to follow his movements. His back was turned to all of them. Roran pointed forwards, into the mire that greeted them beyond a field of war and blood.
"We are surrounded across all of Gillendel. And now you say the deeper districts have fallen. Eragon has not yet returned with the help of this.."
Roran fell silent. She knew the name he hesitated to say.
Morzan.
Unlike Eragon, Roran truly had a tangible reason to hate the Dark Lord, reason beyond the tales of his horrors from others.
Roran turned to face them. Surprisingly, he had a smile on his face.
"I am not giving up. I will never give up. Not until my lungs are filled with blood. But make no mistake, we will die here."
They were silent. Finally, it was Cambion who spoke.
"What do you sense, Roran?" The shade whispered.
Roran walked past, looking at no one nor speaking to anyone in particular.
"They will attack in the morning. It will be our last battle."
"How do you know?" Elonubum queried.
Roran paused before vanishing into the tent.
"The magic they've been gathering is nearly complete. Darkness is coming. True darkness."
ORRIN WATCHED his army march through Feinster from the former Lord's castle. His men were busy at work clearing the skies of the hanging corpses that desecrated ancient stone. By all accounts, it was a bloodless victory.
Don't be so foolish, Orrin thought to himself. Arya had scryed him earlier- they both exchanged information on the current state of the war. Orrin felt his chest tighten as the Elf's words resurfaced within him.
He had only told Angela. Did he dare tell the rest of his advisors? Reports coming from the fronts of war already buffeted them with renewed fear. Talk of Galbatorix's armies under the direction of a new and vile miasma. Warriors, former men proud of their banners, now husks that did not shy away from pain and drank the blood of their enemies.
The war had changed. Their chances were already slim- but now it seemed victory was an impossible feat.
Orrin closed his eyes. The sun was rising. Its light softly crept across the high towers of Feinster, painting them in a calming yellow hue. He would continue to lead his p-
A scroll snapped into existence before him.
Orrin paused.
He stared at the object for what seemed like a millennia- until finally, he tentatively knelt downwards to retrieve the parchment. The sun warmed his back as he moved.
Unfurling the rope clasping it, Orrin jolted in surprise as sand fell from the ruined paper and onto the stone balcony.
The parchment had no writing, but bore only the sigil of his house.
Father.
NEXT CHAPTER: THE FATE OF DRAGONS 1/8/20