I do not own the Inheritance Cycle.

Edited 1/30/22

Please let me know your thoughts throughout the story, I'd love to hear for you :)

Enjoy,


The Razed City

High above were the blossoms of a magnificent glow like many beating hearts of light, that cast away the darkness. They glittered in the internal and dark meadow of its inheritance, hosted, however they were, by a great globe of white flame. The countless congregation had most certainly seen many lifetimes of hurts, and through the decades they remained the same; bright and guiding to those who knew how to read the night skies.

Rose sat on a foothill, overlooking the company below, looking at, in truth, nothing notable rather she stared into the darkness making out dim shapes. The night was quiet and still; there was nothing peeping from around the brushes and nary a cricket chirped its nightly song. The soft breeze cooled her ire and the dragon beside her brought about a gentle peace.

Neither she nor the dragon said a word. There were times where Thorn's seemingly endless forbearance disturbed Rose, and this was one of them. Each time she felt the heat of anger, Thorn seemed to smother it; like water putting out a flame, and she was left feeling rather hollow and mulish. More troubling was that she did not wish to withdraw from his steadfast stillness, he was an anchor to the swirling ocean that threatened to pull her under. Dark emotions and thoughts threatened her, shifting and swirling until she was as tentative as a deer, and completely subduing her into silence. Somewhere throughout their journeying together, Rose had begun to turn to the dragon opening their mindlink, and allowing him to be guiding eyes for her when she couldn't seem to see herself. This troubled her, and she wondered when the shift had taken place.

Thorn saw the more intimate and vulnerable parts of her and she did not push him away when she explored through their mindlink, and she wondered; why? The question seemed to be suspended in midair, in middle of nothing.

She often thought of Tornac and what he might tell her if she were able to talk with him as she wished to and when she tried to think of what he looked like, she couldn't get the image of him correct; she knew what eye color he had had, the shape of his nose and his face, but all the images of him were separate and flawed, like a rippled portraiture in a stream. The clearest image she had of him was in the Pass, when the arrow had speared him and he fell from his horse. And even Rose hadn't been enough to save him. Why not? A pain she never allowed herself to acknowledge opened and flowered in her breast. Why couldn't she save Tornac?

If she hadn't ridden Thorn into Teirm, would he still be alive today? Perhaps if she had remained where she was supposed to, the events in the Pass would have never have happened and Tornac would not have died. Her eyes burned, and she was forced to cast her thoughts away.

For a long time she sat overlooking over the broken hills, shadows in the dim lighting, carefully thinking of nothing as a hollowness swirled in her chest threatening to choke her. Tears built behind her eyes, and she closed them.

When the moon had climbed high into heaven, Rose sighed feeling calm and reached out in her mindlink to Thorn. We should get back, she said.

Thorn agreed, and together they made their way back to the campsite.

The first thing Rose noticed upon reaching the campsite was that everyone was asleep, save for Selena. Noting this, she couldn't help the rush of heat that burned her cheeks; Rose was certain that her lapse in temperament hadn't missed the woman's notice. Rose had grown close to Selena in the previous months, and despite the resentment Rose felt towards her, she still trusted the woman. Before Rose knew of the ploy the woman lay out before her, for quite a long while she was one of the few people they could rely on, and even after Tornac died there was only Thorn and Selena. No one else. No one, that is, who knew the truth of what she was. This didn't, however, change the fact that Selena had broken Rose's trust in her and awoken an anger she believed to be buried at some point in her childhood.

Now Selena sat with the remaining dragon egg in her lap, her fingers tracing the white veins that danced atop its surface. Sitting at her knee was a steaming mug and emptied bag, likely the one that now hid the enchanted bag designed to hold the dragon egg. The woman didn't appear to take notice of them as they walked up, but Rose knew that Selena had heard them; Thorn was no silent walker.

When Rose pulled her bedroll and blankets from her bags, Selena glanced up at her, then, with a hard look in her eyes, and packed away the dragon egg. She stood as Rose was hunting down the softest spot on the ground, looking for a place to lay down. It wasn't until, Rose, at last, choose a fairly rock less grounding to slumber on that Selena came over.

"You looked upset earlier," she said, touching Rose's cheek.

Her face felt raw still, from those angry tears that couldn't seem to help theirselves at the chance of escaping. She felt herself scowl. "I'm fine."

She heard more than saw Selena sigh. "I'm not going to inquire after it," she said. "I have a strong feeling that you wouldn't tell me, even if I did. I just want to tell you that whatever is troubling you will work itself out on its own time but you mustn't loss yourself to them. I shall be here if you ever wish to talk." With that said, Selena bid her a good night, ran her hand through Rose's hair, and returned her spot, looking over the plains.

It was a very long time until Rose was able to fall asleep.

Rose did not wish to travel; rather that she could rest and go nowhere and sleep until she had her fill of slumber without needing to be awoken in the middle of night, and eat rich meals instead of the tasteless bread and unseasoned stringy meat. She felt a yearning for a place that maybe never was, a lost place that was forgotten in the echo of time. She longed for a place that was nowhere and her heart saddened.

She thought of her childhood home in the capital, and the cold stone walls that towered around her, and memories of exploring the many hidden, forgotten rooms and gardens grew unwarranted into her mind's eyes. The warmth of laughter and simplicity beckoned her, and wondered where she might be had it not been for that fateful meeting with the King.

Rose thought it was likely that she would have made her way to the fortressed walls of Waelcombe Castle, and lived a life she once desired, and for a time she thought of that life, before her mind drifted to another. What would her life had been like if she had been raised as she should have, not within the castle but elsewhere? She could not imagine a life with Thorn, and she thought of time when Riders could walk the paths unchallenged before thinking of the decisions she had made in the last months.

You've had choices, Thorn said to her in a mild tone, sensing her thoughts. If you had wished to stay elsewhere, you could have but you did not. Instead you followed your inner knowing as you knew you should. Do not forget that the deserter you call "King" would not let you be idle no matter what you chose. Or have you forgotten?

Rose pulled a turf of grass from the ground, weaving it between her fingers. I have not forgotten, she said, throwing the grass to the ground. The only choices we seem to have are between commitment and slavery. To work for the Varden to do what they hope to for and believe in with the depths of their hearts, or to do as King would force us to. Anything between that seems to be beyond our reach. I wish there were more choices, more freedom to do as we please, to go where we please.

There are those choices but now is not the time for them. Thorn began to sweep his tail lousily across the ground. Going to that king of yours is not one of them. No, he will sooner be torn to shreds before I allow you to turn to him. He has done too much that he has yet to answer for.

I don't wish to return to Urû'baen nor do I wish to go the Varden. I don't know what I want, she said with a sigh. Simpler choices maybe.

It is not as if the Varden will declare war within moments of our arrival, he said, nudging her arm with his snout.

She stirred and ran her hand across his scales, feeling the calming smoothness of them. I know, she said. War will come due in time. I don't know what will happen or when it will, Thorn, and that frightens me. She shook her head, surprised by her words, spoken in such a solemn manner. But she continued, refusing to stop now, allowing her thoughts to be said. Tornac told me, before I left Urû'baen, that the days of peace were soon coming to end, and he was not one who said something simply off of hearsay. I had thought we might be able to avoid such if it were just you and myself, but now that we met with Eragon and Saphira, I believe Tornac was right. The question is: who will make the first move towards it, the King or the rebels, and when will it happen? If it hasn't already.

Thorn didn't answer her at first, resting himself on the ground behind her, but she could tell that he was thinking over what she said. When he did speak, he startled her as she taken to looking at the sky. I hadn't thought so as first, he said lightly, but perhaps Eragon had knocked you down too hard with you fought.

Rose narrowed her eyes at him and shook her head. Perhaps, little menace, she said, or perhaps you had been knocked around in you egg for far too long.

Thorn rumbled a laugh, a deep, calming sound that vibrated his whole body. Rose leaned away from him as his it shook her as well. Were you truly thinking about returning to that dark city? he asked after a moment. It wasn't truly a question asked out of mere curiosity but one she felt a tinge of foreboding from him, as if he were reminding her of the reasons for her fleeing and why she traveled as she did, and what would happen if she changed route now. He was reassuring her, she realized, and though the thought made her want to scoff, she was rather touched.

Not necessary. She leaned back against his bulk, wrapping her arms around her knees. I was merely thinking over the options.

And the conclusion of your thoughts?

Rose huffed and glanced again at the dull hills, her former anger had faded away during her exchange with Thorn. The same as it has been since I've left Urû'baen, she said. The Varden seem to be the safest option. I still don't like it though as I wish not to so openly oppose the King.

They'd had this conversation before, so Rose turned the subject. There simply was not an answer to her fears and doubts, nothing that Thorn could say would calm her. It seemed to her that her mind was turning the subject around and around, forcing her to look at it in every angle. It was arrant madness.

It wasn't long until they were interrupted; Eragon awoke with a groan and splash. Rose looked over as he rolled to his feet, looking alarmingly down at the puddle of water he stood in to his wet trousers.

"You'd sleep if the world was at its end," she told him. "It rained some hours ago. Brom had wanted to wake you so that we could move to higher ground but your dragon was very persistent about allowing you to rest. Your dreams are still bothering you, I take it."

He made an annoyed sound and began to wipe at the dirt caked onto his trousers. "Her name's Saphira," he said, picking up his blanket and wrapped it around him as he looked around the empty encampment. "Where is everyone?"

"Brom and Selena went to remedy our low provisions," said Rose, unable to meet his eyes. She turned over the tinderbox in her hands and closed her eyes. Selena and Brom had left long before she had woken, apparently telling only Thorn where they were going and when they were going to be back. Both of them, Thorn claimed, were quite worried about the lack of provisions they were traveling with and went off in hopes to catch some meat or perhaps find some rare edible vegetation that grew in this region in the early time of spring. "Saphira flew off early this morning to scout the area for a herd of deer she saw in the valley, and for any other dangers that may be lurking about."

The wind blew chillingly over the hills causing both Rose and Eragon to visibly shiver. Rose pulled her cloak closer around her, feeling the cold settle in, and leaned closer to Thorn taking advantage of his everlasting warmth. The ground slipped beneath her feet as she moved, it was damp and cold against her clothing. If these elements kept up, she thought, the sheer cold would kill us before we make out of this valley.

She shivered once again, much to her displeasure, and having decided that the cold would not do away with her as of yet, she stood up. Making her way to the pot of water, she asked if Eragon would like a cup of tea before scooping the leaves out the rumbling water and pouring both herself and Eragon a cup. Rose gave his the mug to him, and settled down next to Thorn, cherishing the warmth.

"What are we supposed to do?" asked Eragon, his fingers tapping against the mug impatiently. It was the same sort of restless energy Rose had often seen Selena possess. "Do we just wait here? There has to be something we can do."

Rose hesitated.

They could unpack everything, sort through it and repack, or perhaps they could get some washing done and mend the tears in their clothing, but she was hesitant touch what was not hers, nor did she know where the needle and thread was kept, also she had a feeling that Eragon would not be keen on doing such things. She was willing to bet that Eragon hadn't meant that they ought to do chores; he looked impatient and upset, with his eyebrow shadowing his eyes as he looked off into the distance as if he were watching something only he could see.

His dragon had been rather upset when Brom went to wake him when the rain began to fall, refusing to let anyone threaten to wake him from his dreams, covering Eragon protectively with her wing. Rose had been annoyed, which was not helped by being woken up only moments after falling asleep, but after a time, when it was decided that they would remain where they were, she had shrugged it off and sought shelter under her blankets. The rain hadn't been pouring down from the heavens, it was merely dribbling enough to make the night unpleasant and keep everyone on the verge of wakefulness. Besides the unpleasantness of the rain, Rose had fallen back to sleep without so much of a thought towards Eragon.

Yet, now she could not help wonder why Saphira had been so protective of him- were his dreams effecting him in such a way that he was losing sleep? Or perhaps it was something more. Something that was unrelated to the dreams Eragon had mentioned having.

Rose was so lost in thought that it took her a moment to release that Eragon had asked her a question. "Pardon," she said, shaking herself from her thoughts.

"I had asked if you knew how long they were going to be gone."

"I cannot say that I do." Rose frowned, watching as Eragon stood up and brushed off his trousers. "Where are you going?"

"I need to move," he said. "I can't sit around and do nothing." Rose must have been scowling more fiercely than she thought she was because Eragon smiled. "Walking is better than sitting around and doing nothing for who knows how long."

Rose agreed, though she did not voice it. "Where will you go?"

He shrugged, and picked up his bow and quiver. "I don't know," he said before pausing. "There's that town not too far from here, the one we passed through. I guess I'll go there and explore. You're welcome to come with you want."

Rose felt herself smile suddenly, heat coursing through her body and stood up quickly. An eagerness she hadn't felt in a long time pumped through her veins, and she found that she wanted to explore that town very much. She grabbed her sword. Will you join us? she asked Thorn.

The dragon merely blinked at her, and began to sweep his tail across the ground. Go on, he said looking hungrily at the horses. I shall stay here, and watch the four-legged beasts. Should you need me, call for me and I will come.

Rose nodded once more before strapping on her sword and turning to Eragon. He stood over his bags, his back to her, his bow and quiver slung across his back, chewing lousily on his breakfast. "Shall we?"

Eragon turned and swallowed. "You're coming?" he asked, with a cough.

"You said I was welcome to join you," Rose said, shuffling her feet. "Or are you withdrawing you invitation?"

"Um, no," he grumbled, kicking a pile of dirt with his foot. "Let's go."

They followed a small, broken foot trail to the remains of the road, edging around wiry briars, evergreen creepers and stinking pods, in complete silence. Rose watched as Eragon nearly stumbled over the road, its edge rose up from the ground without warning, but he was able to catch himself falling completely. They stayed on the overgrown road as much as was practical; in some places it was so overrun by creeper plants or rutted that they have to scoot around it. This wild seemed desolate to Rose, more so than it once had: a landscape untamed by human hands had its own meaning, yet here the land was neither tame nor untamed. It just felt abandoned and eerie and sad.

They kept walking until just before noon, when they found the ruins of the abandoned town with a high wall. Behind the wall rose the remains of what had been a high tower and several other buildings.

For a brief moment they paused under the broken archway, carved into it was a rutted design that neither of them could make out. Eragon studied at the archway for a time before shrugging and walking into the ruins, but Rose hesitated and studied its pillars. Carved into the pillars was the name the town, now long forgotten and unreadable. She studied the carved runes for a time, trying to decipher what they might read, then giving up she followed Eragon. He had walked into the center of a square courtyard, bordered by ruined walls covered in creeping overgrowth, and was looking at it curiously. There were three other gateways, one in middle of each wall, leading off in different directions.

"What do you think this place was like before the Fall?" Eragon said, picking up a loose stone.

Rose shrugged and glanced around. "It was likely in less pieces," she said, clasping her hands together. "Are we just going to stand here? You said that you wished to move about and I see a building that isn't completely in ruin."

Eragon answered her by walking under one of the archways, then wandering deeper into the town. Rose trailed after him, looking around. They kept straight, there were many roads and it was easy to get lost, though the town was less than half the size of Teirm. Some of the stone walls were blackened by fire, and now covered springing weeds. They could see charred beams and broken doors and pieces of brightly colored glass. Sometimes they passed a house that was almost intact, apart from its roof which had long ago fallen in. The stone roads were broken and clogged with dead weed but still passable, and all the roads lead the courtyard they had first gone through.

They worked their way through the town without finding anything of interest. Once they came across a large chamber, it was impossible to guess its use; maybe it had been some kind of throne room, or a meeting place for the people of the city. At one end there was a dais, raised the height of a man above the rest of the room; but like everything else it revealed no significance.

"Maybe it was a temple of some kind," Eragon said.

Rose studied a piece of ancient vase, it had once had a design of a winding flower across it. "Perhaps," she said. "Brom did say that this area was special to the Riders. Perhaps it had something to do with them."

"When did he say that?" Eragon looked confused.

"In passing… Likely when you were flying about with Saphira."

Eragon nodded and for a time he looked at the dais, as if he were watching a showing, his face growing pale. "Rose," he breathed, keeping his eyes fixed on the empty air above the pulpit.

"Yes?"

"Let's get out of here."

Rose glanced over up at him, she was kneeling, sorting through a small pile of rubble. He was beginning to sway as if he growing faint. "Are you alright?" she said.

He glanced at her. "You didn't see her?"

"Who did you see?" She raised an eyebrow at him, thinking at perhaps he had become delirious. "There's been no one here save for us."

His eyes widened slightly, and he shook his head. "It doesn't matter," he said. "I thought I saw someone. Maybe I imagined it." He looked around the room, and fingered his bow with a shaking hand. "Let's get back."

Rose frowned but agreed. She didn't think too much of it, this land was full of haunts, and neither of them had had much to eat as of late. Perhaps he was just imagining things like when she was a child, exploring the forbidden rooms of the castle, the eerie setting playing tricks on his mind but somehow it didn't seem like that to her, and she couldn't say why.

They slowly made their out of the city, having to stop every so often as a wave of dizziness rocked Eragon's body. He was overwhelmingly unsteady and often tripped on the loss stones. When they returned to the campsite, Selena and Brom waited for them, a full pot of watery stew boiled with fresh meat. Rose sat down and, after making certain Eragon had a bowl of stew, she ate, telling Thorn of what happened.