Two Directions
"Gone? What do you mean gone!?" Brom hollered across the small clearing with spittle flying from his mouth.
He lacked the dedication I demanded. Saphira answered, projecting her thoughts to Arya and the old Rider both, he will do what he wants, as he wants, in order to kill the Oathbreaker, we disagreed on the method.
"You mean that you simply decided to part ways?" Arya asked with a strange stillness in her voice.
He is much older than me, and while our affection towards each other remains unchanged, he is as stubborn and independent as I am, I wouldn't wish for another Rider.
"You can't allow it! The new Rider is the last hope...!"
Saphira rose from her curled up position and roared to Brom's face: Allow? Allow! I was born free under his care, and we'll both act as we deem right! I won't force him in the same way he won't force me! Now you can keep wailing or you can resume your duties
"Where is my stuff? We can't finish our travel across the Spine if we'll be busy hunting in order to survive!" Brom flayed his arms wildly.
He left what you'll able to bring with you, along with the Red Blade, that still disagreed with him.
Arya fell to her knees, feeling like her efforts and sacrifices were for nothing. A hundred years wasted on something that clearly was not to be...
I'm going to save Fäolin and Gwenlin. The thought cut through her despair like a crystalline blade across dark smoke, hooking and pulling mercilessly at the hope she didn't let herself nurture in her heart of hearts.
Arya' green eyes found the sapphire blue ones of the dragon, and without words she tried to convey that her safety was paramount, that every warrior dor the free people of the Land would gladly die in order to see her safe.
I AM A DRAGON AND I'LL SAVE THEM. There was no hesitation in that thought, no fear of failure, no alternative.
Arya ignored the tears flowing from her eyes as she nodded, her own culture forbidding her from contesting Saphira's decision: "I'll come."
As a single person, both dragon and elf turned towards the still gobsmacked Brom, which had just dragged out from the underbrush a couple of backpacks and Zar'roc itself.
The aged Rider faced their stares unflinchingly, allowing a grimace to blossom on his face. If there was a single skill that Brom had mastered across his long life, was to roll with the punches, and for the first time since he had settled down in that backwater village in the Spine, close but not too close to his own son, a grim determination surged forth, along with the instinct for the command that had allowed him to fund the Varden, the same mind that had allowed him to forge an agreement between Human and Elves.
"Never killed a Shade before." he grumbled as he unsheathed the hated red blade, eyeing critically before securing it at his hip: "We'd better start moving."
A week later
A heavy fog clung to the ground, obscuring the one-eyed fox's view of his surroundings as he ran south. His nose could pick up the scent of the ocean, which meshed curiously with the particularly humid environment now that he had finally left the mountains behind, making the brackish puddles here and there smell surprisingly bad.
David stopped behind an outcropping of trees just shy of one hundred meters from the shoreline, sitting on his hinges with his tail wrapped around his paws, and took a few minutes to regulate his breathing while his lone eye roamed over the endless expanse of water. Without stopping to think about it, his mind dived across the waves and over the breeze that was starting to blow away the heavy mist.
For a brief instant, he was flying like a seagull and swimming like a school of fishes, less than a kilometre from the shoreline, where the plateau that made sure that the water there stood around 10 meters of depth suddenly broke apart, becoming a deep split of the reef where colder sea currents broke apart against.
The senses of the fishes didn't quite compare to the ones of humans, since the water-breathing creatures 'saw' across their lateral line, an extremely efficient hearing-like sense that allowed them to roughly 'feel' around them. A larger mote of light grabbed David's attention, and if he could, he would have smiled in his fox form as he recognized a shark moving warily, waiting for a school of fishes to become too dense for them to escape an assault.
After a while, he returned to his human form and started walking, half-hidden between the shore and the trees that grew up to become a proper forest deeper on the land. And soon enough he saw it: Teirm. Nestled by the edge of the shimmering sea, where proud ships were docked with furled sails. The surf's dull thunder could be heard in the distance, signalling the presence of a rocks outcropping where the worst of the waves crashed against.
The city was contained behind a white wall that looked thirty meters tall and perhaps 10 meters thick, with rows of rectangular arrow slits lining it and a walkway on top for soldiers and watchmen alike. The wall's smooth surface was broken by two iron portcullises, one facing the western sea, the other opening north to the small road that David started walking with a brisk pace.
Above the wall, and set against its northeast section, likely making use of one of the least failed attempts of the land to be classified as a part of the Spine, which instead towered in the north, rose a huge citadel built of giant stones and turrets. In the highest tower, a lighthouse lantern gleamed brilliantly. The castle was the only thing visible over the fortifications.
A couple of soldiers guarded the northern gate but held their pikes carelessly, more likely than not because of the rarity of having someone descend from the mountains.
David reached the gate, not trying too hard to appear casual as he observed the yellow pennant bearing the outline of a roaring lion and an arm holding a lily blossom waved over the entrance.
Having spotted him a few minutes prior, the guards weren't unduly skittery regarding his presence, after all, which enemy simply walks towards the opponent? Nevertheless, they stood straighter and blocked the gate with their pikes. "Wha's yer name?" asked one of them in a bored tone.
"I'm Hor." said David in a flippantly happy tone, with his mind slowly washing over the consciousness of the two guards, lazily picking up inane details of their lives and encouraging them to feel unthreatened by him despite his strange clothing.
"Ya no', my son's has the same name!" the second guard noted happily.
"Well, it's a good name, my ma' choose it for me ya see, and for m'sister's boy, too, so there are two Hor in the family!"
The second guard nodded impatiently. "Yeah, yeah, spare me. And yer business here?" he spoke annoyed by the whole situation, he only wanted to go back to spend his day idly as he always did.
"I'm visitin' an old friend." supplied David, delicately reassuring both the guards that he was harmless despite his strange garb.
As he walked, David took stock of the houses that were grim and foreboding, with small, deep windows let in only sparse rays of light. Narrow doors were recessed into the buildings. The tops of the roofs were flat except for metal railings, and all were covered with slate shingles. It was easy to notice that that the houses closest to Teirm's outer wall were no more than one story, but the buildings got progressively higher as they went in. Those next to the citadel were tallest of all, though insignificant compared to the fortress itself.
As David continued up the street, some people gave him searching looks, but there was not an undue amount of interest, even if there was the same feeling of unrest that had characterized the life that Saphira had forced him to live during their last mental excursion over the land.
Following his nose and the faint impressions he managed to get by the multitude of people around, David quickly found who he was looking for, also because hers was the only mind in the lower part of the city that didn't give off its presence. As David observed through a seagull' eyes, she found the woman, but his sensing couldn't point her out, almost as if there was a dark spot in the light-made vision that the Rider had of the city.
The herbalist's shop had a cheery sign that spoke of the artistic hand of the owner, and David grimaced at his lack of knowledge of the written language. He sighed, remembering that his All-Speak runic cluster would never help him learning the written language, forcing him to actually work for it.
His attention was quickly captivated by a short, curly-haired woman who was sitting by the door. She was holding a frog in one hand and writing with the other on a spare piece of parchment that she was balancing on a more or less flat piece of wood.
David's memories of the book could only confirm that she was somewhat relevant in the story, but that as eccentric mysterious people went, she was the one to look for.
"Hello," the one-eyed Rider spoke, "Why are you holding a frog?"
The woman gave a delighted laugh at his question, apparently pleasantly surprised by the blunt interest that she could hear in the man' words: "Well, I'm proving that it's a frog, despite it being a toad, of course!"
David nodded amenably at the answer, vaguely remembering about the pickiness of the toads in the Naruto-verse about being referred to as frogs: "I always thought that toads had knees like ours, while frogs had them backwards and are occasionally toxic."
That stilled the woman, with her smile freezing in place and her gaze turning a bit flat as she turned her attention back to the notes she had taken on her parchment: "Well... I suppose..."
She then narrowed her eyes against the stranger: "You kind of ruined my fun this way..."
The woman shook her head vigorously, dark curls bouncing as an almost fearful expression found its way on her face: "No, no, you don't understand. I must prove that toads do not exist, if I manage it, then this is a frog and never was a toad. Therefore toads won't be able to do anything bad, like make teeth fall out, cause warts, and poison or kill people. Also, witches won't be able to use any of their evil spells because, of course, there won't be any toads around."
"I see," said David delicately, "Perhaps you'd be better served by teaching everyone that toads are no more harmful than whatever animal you don't know the provenience of."
At that, the frozen smile on her sharp and yet warm features crumpled while she dropped the toad on the ground and picked up her small portable desk, rising from the stool she was sitting upon and huffing as she entered her shop.
With a smile, David followed her inside.
AN
The scenes in this chapter
As an exercise, I started things out 'in medias res' trying to build a cohesive story to explain the missing parts. Did it work? David insisted that Saphira's decision was a dumb one, and after an instantaneous exchange of thoughts-feelings through their bond, they parted ways. (Yes, David's still her Rider, but for now each does what he wants, since the MC isn't one to force people to do his bidding, and Saphira respects that much of him (I'm still convinced that a mental bond like the one between Rider and Dragon is a bit intrusive and not so healthy on the long run, everyone needs an angle of privacy, if only in their own thoughts.)).
The reasoning behind the characters' behaviour
While I agree with most of the reviews pointing out that Brom is quite the skilled diplomat and thusly capable of adjusting his approach based on necessity, I'm pointing out that lack of discipline inside of the Order is the worst nightmare that any living Rider (sans David) has. I doubt that either Oromis or Brom recognize that Galbatorix turned out traitor (taking others with him) because of something not-related with his dragon's death. (How many dragons died before their Riders? how many became mad tyrants?). I doubt that Oromis considers that the 13 forsworn were stifled under the harsh regulations of the Order, making manipulation by Galbatorix much easier (think about it, you're immortal, have badass weapons, are taught how to fight before than how to think, have magic and a dragon (let's be honest, dragons are made to fucking obliterate shit, not being happy go lucky lizards). How long before you want to go evil like your Skyrim character once everything is completed if just to let loose? Even more so against the mortal races (humans first and foremost) that everybody dismisses so easily?).
Given that Oromis and Brom are both the products of the Order, an organization that spanned across a millennium give or take, maybe more, they're built to find causes of their fall outside the system, instead than inside.
I skimmed again the Inheritance Cycle, and what little Oromis speaks about Galbatorix pictures the elf as someone akin to Yoda in those awful movies after 1999, namely, immensely powerful and wise, but allowing the fucking Lord of the Sith to sit right across the room because he can't be bothered with taking a proactive approach.
So, Brom cannot in good conscience allow David to feel like he's in a position of power in their relationship, for fear he might turn out like Galbatorix, who, thinking that he knew better than the Elders, stole himself a dragon and kickstarted the Fall of the Order.
And I'm overjoyed that I managed to make realistic the shifting of David perspective while maintaining realistic the exchanges with Saphira. Having said that, David is influenced by Saphira thoughts, just like she's influenced by his perspective.
I couldn't make Saphira any less self-righteous than she is in canon, since the ancestral memories she has are extremely character-building (she reminds to Eragon that while she's much younger than him physically, she's much older in her thoughts).
At this point, a rift of sorts was unavoidable: David is somewhat saddened by the death of the innocents, but it doesn't really impact him, and he knows perfectly well that as long as there is some complexity in a society, there will be a part of it that gets 'less' than the other.
So, David is spurned into action from Saphira, but he takes it in a completely different direction than what she expects, and she, headstrong and untamable as she is, refuses to back down from the solution she prefers.
Given their respective characters, an actual separation is unavoidable, so the story splits, on one side, Saphira will do what is expected of her, following her instincts, while David keeps going on his own, with killing Galbatorix as the first aim, giving Fleur back her body, while learning new shit as a sidedish that remains constant across his life.
Does it make sense to you?