"Of Half-Breeds and Hatred"
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Eragon story, nor any of the characters. The only things I own are the plot and the new characters.
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Eragon climbed over the wreckage of the battlefield on the plains. The smoke blinded him, and the only movement he could see were the carrion birds swooping over the bloodied desert. Eragon had volunteered in the cleanup, and Saphira had come with him. There is so much carnage here Saphira, Eragon felt his eyes stinging, so much death, all because of the Empire.
Saphira's blue bulk shifted over to him. The carnage here was caused by Galbatorix and his underlings. Do not weep for the Kings losses, little one. I know that many of the men were conscripts, but we had to kill them or they would have destroyed us, and all we stand for.
I know Saphira, but that does not make the knowledge any easier to bear. Eragon stopped, and stooped over a dead man, one of the many enemies now lying on that battlefield. This man was barely my age, and he most likely didn't have a choice to come here, to die here. Saphira bent over Eragon, and looked at him with one large, cobalt eye. He may not have had a choice, but Galbatorix did, and it is him that we should blame for this young man's death.
Eragon stood, and wiped his face with the back of a sleeve. I know Saphira. He looked at her, her blue eyes full of sorrow, and hate for the evil king. And we will destroy him. Saphira growled her approval then said, Aye, I agree. But we must first help by burning the ones lying here, and then we can continue our training with Oromis and Glaedr.
Eragon smiled, a grim smile, and then climbed upon Saphira without another word between them.
Saphira launched herself into the air, and Eragon smiled. He loved flying more then anything else, and even after the carnage of the past few days, he still revelled in the feeling of complete freedom.
Saphira swooped over the body strewn plain and let out an enormous burst of sapphire tinged fire. The bodies touched by the fire turned to ash, and as she swooped again, Eragon drew on the magic inside his mind and spat out the word,
"Brisingr!" A pile of at least fifty bodies caught aflame. He gave a bleak smile, and then turned his attention away as he and Saphira continued to burn the bodies strewn over the battlefield.
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The Ra'zac moved. It had been hiding in the forests of the spine for the weeks since the battle ended. It had fled the battlefield before their enemy's victory. It had known that the end was coming, and that its brethren had fallen to the cold steel of the enemy's sword. The Ra'zac had run to the east ever since it left, knowing that the Spine was its only refuge, a place to lick its wounds and avoid the vengeful forces of the King, who would not be pleased that the battle had been lost.
It had made it to the mountains and woods of the spine safely, and the only problem now was how it was to find food. The Ra'zac had been able to survive on rabbits and other game, but it knew that his only food source was rapidly declining in size due to his meal size, and the number of times he had to feed. It knew that it had to find humans; or it would be dead within a week.
At first it had travelled to Carvahall, in hope that a stray human had survived it and its brethren's attacks, but to no avail. It had then scoured the entire western slopes of the Spine, trying to find a village large enough that one or two missing people would not be noticed, and remote enough that there would be no-one near to help his potential food. It had to be careful, oh so careful if it didn't want to be noticed, for if it was, the potential feeding ground would be closed off to him, and it would perish.
When it had gone as far south along the western slope as was safe, it then turned east, hoping for a more plentiful supply of humans near the sea.
It had been right, though it took it longer then it had hoped to find a suitable village. It was in the far north of the spine, near the sea, and it suited the Ra'zac perfectly.
From the little information that the Ra'zac had been able to glean from its unusually good hearing and sight it was able to tell that the medium size town was called Keltei, and its occupants were unworried about attack from anyone. The town was in a valley between two large ridges leading up into the mountains of the Spine, and the area was densely wooded, leaving the Ra'zac ample opportunities to take its prey.
It was pacing up and down the hillside near the village, looking for a possible meal. Then it stopped. A small boy had wandered up to the top of a rise near where the Ra'zac was hiding. It was nearly dark, and the boy continued along his way, determinedly tottering up the gentle slope towards the woods.
The Ra'zac glanced around, carefully assessing its surroundings. There was no one near the boy, he had no guardian on his meandering journey, and the Ra'zac knew that the time was ripe.
The Ra'zac moved. And it crept slowly closer to its prey.
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Eragon was exhausted. It had taken him and Saphira days to finally rid the plain of most of the corpses, and even still there were a few bodies blackening in the sun, releasing their stomach churning stink.
He was now sitting in a small tent that had been allocated to him, with enough room for Saphira to sleep outside. She poked her head in through the tent flap, and looked at Eragon as he lay on his bedroll. We're leaving for Ellesmera in the morning. You should pack. Eragon looked up at Saphira, and then nodded. He was too tired to talk, but he slowly rose from the bed roll and started putting his belongings into a pack that would be tied onto Saphira as they travelled.
He glanced up as Saphira stopped his movements around the tent with her nose, and he raised an eyebrow. What is it? When she didn't answer, Eragon began to worry. Saphira, what is it? What aren't you telling me?
I just want to be sure that you're alright. You've been very quiet the past few days, and you haven't been letting me speak to you as often as you did before this battle. I'm worried about you. Eragon gave a small smile, and reassured her, I'm fine, really. Its just seeing so many wasted lived is not an experience that I wanted to have, even if I do want Galbatorix dead.
You haven't spoken of Murtagh since we saw him with, she paused, and Eragon could feel the hostility radiating outward from all over her scaled body, Since we saw him with his d-dragon. The word was hesitant, and she seemed to drag out the sound of the word.
I cant believe that there is another one, Eragon stayed silent, and waited for Saphira to work her way around to the real heart of the matter. I just can't understand why Galbatorix wants me to breed with the next dragon that hatches, and not his precious Thorn. Eragon at last knew what had been bothering her, and he also was confused. I don't know why he wants you to breed with the next one, Eragon laid a reassuring hand on Saphira's neck, Maybe it's because you are the only dragon that is pure.
Saphira snorted, nuzzled Eragon affectionately, then left the rooms for him to pack.
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The child was nearly all the way up the hill, heading a little to the left of the Ra'zac's hiding place. The hideous creature got ready to spring at the unsuspecting figure.
"Bierda? Where are you?"
The voice startled the Ra'zac, and it moved, ever so slightly, backwards, further into the bushes. As the Ra'zac crouched in the trees, it saw a young woman walk up the hill towards the boy. She had thick black hair that fell to her waist, and her eyes were a pale amber colour. She moved up the hill seemingly without any movement on her part, her feet looked like they were barely touching the ground, and she made no noise as her small feet traversed the grassy slope. The Ra'zac felt an abnormal fear, and it shuffled further backwards.
At the small sound, the amber eyes, which had been scanning the sloped area, stopped moving and fixed onto the bushes where the Ra'zac was hiding. The woman, never taking her eyes from the bushes, quickly ushered the boy down the slope, telling him to go home to his family. She then headed back up the hill towards the bushes of the Ra'zac. The creature moved again, taking greater care not to make a sound. It felt something emanating from the tall, plainly clothed figure in front of it, and whatever this power was, it wasn't friendly. The tall, slender woman stopped in front of the wooded copse, and spat a single word.
"Brisingr."
The Ra'zac saw, and felt nothing. It began to smile, if the hideous expression that appeared on its face could be called a smile, and it leapt out of the bushes, its beak aimed at the woman's long, pale neck. As it hurtled through the air, it felt something was all of a sudden…wrong. The Ra'zac crashed to the leafy ground, and it stared up into the impassive face of the golden-eyed woman above him. As it lay there, a burning sensation welled up inside the creature. It gave one strangled squawk, then burst into flames.
The young woman watched, the red fire lighting her face, her features full of a cold satisfaction. The woman turned, and walked away with no reaction other then the words, the cold, yet venomous words,
"This is what you get, Ra'zac, when you meddle with a half-breed."
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Hey, to any readers out there, please review! Any constructive criticism is most welcome, as this is my first Eragon fic, and only the second fic I have actually written. So, many thanks to any readers who feel compelled to review my fic!
randomfreak