I do not own the Inheritance Cycle.
Enjoy,
The Fallen
Arya was waiting for them at the granite entrance of Tronjheim. She stood under the center of the archway to the cavern city, as if she were made of stone herself. Her mind was stretched over the long, twisting carven passages. Many of these colliders had been caved in before the battle, and fewer were filled with traps of hot tar or ancient hidden spikes but in all of them, there was no life to be found. Those who once lived in the tunnels had abandoned them, and they remained that way still. Even so, in the small places she could hear the little noises that spoke of life; the echo of a small dripping stream; a blind creature skittering into a hole; the thin whistle of air moving being pushed from a distant wind; a stone clattering to the ground and bouncing; and then the scuffling of footfalls against bedrock.
She shifted, and she stepped forward and balanced on the front of her feet. Her eyes shifting over the shadows as they came closer and then rounded the corner. Arya looked over them, and seeing that the only thing amiss was a piece of lichen stuck in the Rider's loose hair, her gaze settled on the leather bag securely hidden underneath a cloak. A life-light glowed from within, small and powerful, muffled by the enchantments sewn into the bag. A tension she didn't know was running within her loosened, as if she were a string-puppet whose handler dropped the tut strings, and she let out a long and slow breath.
At that same moment, she looked up at Rose. The Rider's head was tilted slightly but as their eyes met, she straightened and her hand on the bag's strap tightened. Their eyes remained on each other for a time until Arya nodded, seemingly satisfied with whatever it was that she saw, and continued to wait until the young man who had guided the dragon and his Rider dismissed himself to report to his superior.
The elf watched as he ran into the city beyond, and thought for a brief moment that might still be a collider they could take to the Healing Halls that would be quicker… and would not take them through the battle ground. When she had walked the path before, she felt the life surging through the veins of those who survived, and those who were dying, as the dreadful weight of the survived began the work of healing their hurts.
The people of Varden laid out and counted their died, draping their bodies in dark mantles that honored their deaths. It was not so many as they feared would fall that day but still the marks of grief echoed throughout mountain city. Many of the men sung the songs of mourning and passing, while some prayed for their fallen brother, placing an unlit candle at their feet which they would light when their prayer ended. There were fewer fallen dwarves and by evening, it was known that two score had been collected, and taken into their halls to be given their last rites.
They could only speculate what had truly happened when Eragon eliminated the Shade and they both fell. Many thought the urgals would not return but Ajihad remained vigilant, and had his men stand guard at the cave entrances before ordering soldiers to scour the caves that the beasts had fled through, just to make sure that they were indeed gone. He suspected that without the Shade to rule over them that a few might return or cause havoc on a small farming settlement outside Farthen Dûr. The soldiers returned not long ago, having followed their trail to the edges of the tunnels without a single sign of them. It was as if they vanished.
The tunnel Arya stood in now, had been the first to be deemed clear. The moment the men returned, Ajihad sent a missive to the Kealii Valley to tell them of the victory as well as to request the dragon and his Rider return. He feared that whatever darkness bewitched Eragon would likely overtake the boy entirely, and should that happen, it would leave Rose as the last Rider amongst the Varden.
It was not unknown to the leaders with Farthen Dûr that the girl would not step up the roles that they desired willingly, for whatever reasons that were her own. The most they could do was to keep her within reach, in a place where she and the dragon were safe and hope that the time where she would be called upon would never come to be.
Brom worried about what schemes they might concoct to force Rose to pledge loyalty before them, Arya overheard the heated whispers between him and Selena after one of Eragon's episodes. Neither of them looked too much at the boy, and when they did, she thought that the sight of him pained them. His skin was covered in a permanent film of sweat, and his legs were shaking.
Most of that night, they had sat helpless to the violent fits he had whenever they touched him. This made is hard to clean the blood from his skin, nonetheless care for the deep, seeping wound on his back. It had been nearly impossible to get him into the private room in the Healing Halls, his whole body shook throughout the trip and he the wound they manage to heal below reopened. The Ancient Language was no use on the cursed injury, and it left Arya befuddled. It was like nothing she had seen or heard of before though she caught Brom muttering about it under his breath.
Night faded into morning, and as Eragon's condition worsen so did Ajihad's worry, and more then once Arya would see him within the Healing Halls asking for a report on the boy's health. With each visit the news became grimmer, and soon the leader of the Varden stopped coming at all. He came only to give news that he sent for Rose and Thorn late that morning, and after briefly asking about Eragon, he left, his face downcast.
Arya had volunteered to meet the dragon and Rider after seeing the look Brom and Selena shared, neither quite willing to leave the boy, and she promptly left Saphira's side. She didn't need to turn back to know that the dragon had resumed her post in the doorway to watch over her Rider, remaining silent in her own apprehension.
As Arya told Rose and Thorn about what happened during the battle, while they were in Kealii Valley, they walked hurriedly though the city, stepping around the fragments of the Star Rose, to Eragon's private room within the Healing Hall. The elf would turn occasionally to watch the Rider's reaction but her face remained blank and Arya could gleam little from it. The girl had been trained to her thoughts hidden, Arya knew, but it didn't go unnoticed that Rose's hands tightened on the bag's strap or the small sudden intake of breath when she mentioned Eragon's state.
As they neared the small isolated room, Arya said, "When you go in there be quiet and if you speak do not do so loudly. Whatever had enthralled him is disturbed by noise."
Rose nodded and greeted Saphira gently, before the dragon shifted enough to let her through but she otherwise moved as little as possible. Thorn closed their mindlink as he reached out the guarding dragon and settle down beside her. Whatever conversation they shared, remained private.
Inside the room was a simple wooden bed, a narrow table held a jug of water and a cup, and next to that was a small brass bell. A thin crystal lamp defused a gentle golden light against pale blue casement walls. A figure stood over the bed in the far corner with their heads bent down, and it seemed to Rose as if a faint light came off of them, like the glow of the moon. There was no one else.
As she walked in the room Rose realized that the figure was a woman she had never seen before. She had wiry brown hair, that looked as if it was hazardously pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck, and a strange layered green tunic. A black cat sat at her feet, and as Rose entered, it looked at her, his eyes shifting and dark. The woman did not acknowledge her but kept muttering so quickly that one could understand a single word, as Rose stepped up the bed. She stood as far from the cat as possible, who never took its strange eyes off of her, as she looked at Eragon. He lay so still that Rose thought for a moment that his heart had stop beating but then he muttered something in his sleep. His skin was slick with sweat and his hair was soaked, thin strains sticking to the sides of his face. He looked like death itself, she thought with a sinking feeling.
"How has he been?" Arya whispered from the doorway.
Rose started, not having heard her enter, and pulled her cloak closer around her. It suddenly felt as if she plummeted into a pool of icy water.
"No different from before. He's had no more episodes since for the couple of hours so we believe that he is stable," replied the woman, and then she turned, fixing her piercing eyes on Rose. "I was wondering when I'd get to meet you. It was mentioned somewhere, I forgot where, that you prefer Rose to Muirgheal… Hmm, and every rose has its thorns or in this case Thorn." The woman let out a soft laugh at her own joke, and looked to doorway where a single ruby eye was staring at her from the small space Saphira left for the red dragon.
Rose scowled at the woman, and folded her arms over her chest. "I'm at a disadvantage," she muttered coldly. "You seem to know who I am but I haven't the faintest idea who you might be."
"You're quite grave, its no wonder the old man has taken a liking to you," the woman said brightly, smiling widely. "I'm Angela the herbiest, if you must know."
"The clairvoyant that Eragon mentioned," she said, her tone sharper than she intended. She leaned further away and gave Angela a critical look. "Are you here to tell him another of your fortunes?"
"No but I am here to ensure that your brother will live after being flayed alive by the Shade," Angela said, before sorting through a small rucksack and pulling out a cloth bag. "You're welcome."
"You have my thanks, then," Rose said, feeling disarmed, and at a loss for what she should do, moved towards the other side of the room. She ran her fingers through her hair, clearing it of moss and leaves, and settled to the ground as the woman went to work crushing some herbs with a stone mortar and pestle. Rose watched the woman and the strange cat, and was soon convinced that there was something wrong with the creature. Its eyes seemed to her far too intelligent as if it had a conscience.
After some time, Brom and Selena entered the room, each carrying a basket which they placed on the ground near the doorway. Rose looked up at them, eyeing them over for any injury and seeing none, she stood and allowed Selena to embrace her for a short moment before pulling away. As she did, Brom placed his hand on her shoulder in greeting, his face withdrawn and there were heavy bags underneath his eyes but in a low voice he said, "We almost lost him. The idiot boy is lucky to be alive, it's unheard of that anyone survived this long with a wound like this. Every tale I've heard the victim has died within the first hour."
"Arya mentioned that it's believed that the Shade blighted the wound. What are his chances?" Rose asked looking up at him, as Angela slipped past them and left the room. The cat followed her, its tail weaving in the air.
"The worse of it is over. He will live but I'm apprehensive about his recovery. It's likely that he won't ever fully recover and that something from this time will affect him for the remainder of his life. We don't know how, yet."
"It could still heal and have little effect," Selena piped, who had seated herself on the ground. She sounded unconvinced of her own words.
Brom huffed. "The chances of that are low to none. It's not completely understood what the Shade had done before he died but his vengeance has been ensured. If by some small chance there's no long-term damage then it will be a miracle beyond miracles but I wouldn't hold my breath," he said, and turned to Rose. "The Varden and the dwarves will not take to your neutrality as well as they are now. Ajihad was in a state trying to get you and Thorn back here as soon as possible. He is concerned for what Eragon's injury means for the Varden. I have no doubt that things will change from here on out."
"Do you truly believe that Ajihad will make them pledge themselves to the Varden?" Selena whispered. "I understand the need of alliances but surely even he can see that doing so will likely cause a drift between everyone. Forcing a union like this usually doesn't end well, if my memory serves me right."
"There's always the option of traveling to Du Weldenvarden," Arya said quickly. Until then, Rose had almost forgotten that the elf was inside the room. "Ellesmѐra would be delighted to host the dragons and their Riders. And, Brom, you know that you are always welcome amongst the elves."
Brom grumbled but did not look at her. "The elves will have their hands in shaping the Riders soon enough," he said offhandedly.
"It seems to me that there is no real option for us. And perhaps it be best for Thorn and I to leave, and travel elsewhere until the king is dethroned," Rose stated, and turned to look Brom fully in the face. He met her gaze, his blue eyes dark with an emotion she had no name for. "I do not wish to do so however I did not leave my former controlled life in Urû'baen, of my own discretion mind you, only to be restrained by another's whim."
Brom raised an eyebrow at her in challenge. "And where would you go? How would you survive the wilds?" he asked in a heated whisper, scratching his beard. "I didn't want to bring any of you here for this reason. You, Eragon, and the dragons should have been trained more before we stepped foot near the Varden. We're here because the dragon egg needed to be safe, and your mother already had engagements here."
"Why can there not be a simple treaty?" said Rose matching his tone. "While in the valley I've been studying about how the Dragon Riders remained neutral in the past, assisting where they saw fit with the use of treaties. And I have thought long about this and have come to an understanding with Thorn. These treaties were used countless of times before, and could be useful not. Do they not exist still?"
"Nay, alas, they were terminated when the Vrael and Umaroth were defeated but they were never very useful," he replied, looking sorrowful. "New ones would need to written up and signed. I doubt that you could get the dwarves, the Varden, and the elves to come to an agreement before the end of the next century."
Rose thought for a moment, and felt Thorn's mind press against her own in interest but he said nothing. "All agreed on aligning with the Varden before a hundred years passed. I do not see how this is much different, and it would have been preferred that we use route. We can make them be something of use," she said quietly. "If we are to assist the Varden and their allies, it will be because we wish to, not because of an enforced obligation. As it stands neither Thorn nor myself will fight for their cause, and I do not trust them."
There was a beat of silence.
"Everyone agreed because once the Galbatorix is defeated, the Varden will be disbanded. The purpose is to dethrone the tyrant and help set up groundwork for the next generation and nothing more. A contract with Dragon Riders would be much more complicated." Brom told her and paused, scratching his beard. "Tell me, what are your thoughts behind this?"
Rose glanced at Arya, who had seemed to settle herself firmly inside the room, and met her eyes briefly before sighing in resignation. "The Varden have given me no reason to believe that their dispute with the King is just. I have not forgotten that, until a few months ago, there was a price of my head for simply existing and that I spent my life being hunted down by their men," she said and began to feel old fears and anger began to rise within her. "What will happen when the tides change and Thorn and I are no longer of use? Will they believe us too powerful and too much of a threat to allow us to continue living? Will we, not just myself but Eragon and whomever the last egg hatches for, be slain due to prejudices brought on by the king? A person's gratitude fades away quickly, and when that happens, for surely it will, what is there to ensure that betrayal shan't take place?"
"We will speak more of this when Eragon is awake and well," Brom said after a long pause as he considered her. "I think you hold a worthy claim. It might not be possible to have something agreed on within the next moon cycles but if every party can agree to something it might help but by how much, I can't say."
Rose nodded but said nothing else, not wanting to say something she might later regret. It had occurred to her then that the Varden knew of her existence in the capital for many years and yet, never saw it fit to Selena, sending instead assassins. And she thought that the Varden's tactics might be different yet it made them no better than Galbatorix. She stood, trembling and hot faced, and excusing herself she hurried to the doorway, knocking over a basket. As she squeezed between Saphira, she felt Thorn press against their mindlink worriedly, and said to him, I don't want to be here. Can we go anywhere else, please, so long as it's not here?
Thorn flew her to the cave they shared in the dragonhold which was harder to get to, now that the Isidar Mithrim had been destroyed in battle. The dragon had to dive in as sharp, odd angle to get and landed clumsily, nearly jarring her from his back. When he stilled, Rose sled down and began to unburden the dragon from her personal bags and the saddle. He stood studying her with a single ruby eye, his head tilted to the side. The Egg-Slayer had wounded many, he said gently after a time, much of it is a mortal wound that still has yet to be felt. There will be more still if he isn't stopped. No one knows what will happen with Eragon. I have talked with Saphira, and his injuries are grave. Thorn grumbled from somewhere deep within his chest. There are other ways, as you pointed out that we can ally ourselves to ensure the downfall of the false king where you will have more freedom to choose who you fight. You have thought long on what you've said today and it shows. I am pleased but I worry that it came from a place of fear.
Rose stilled and, putting aside the clothing she was refolding, she met his gaze. There are times, where fear can teach us caution. And I am petrified, Thorn, I did not wish for any of this but I'm finding myself between a rock and a hard place. I see no other alternative, she said, and Thorn blew smoke from his nostrils. Even so, I thank you for your complaint. It was not lightly given.
The dragon puffed up his chest but said nothing more, and Rose returned to sorting through her old clothing. She found the dress she had worn during her flight from the capital and pulled it out, intending to give it a different home, when she heard something clatter against the stone flooring. Puzzled, she set the gown aside and picked up a thin, tattered scroll, and looked it over. Rose had no memory of having it on her when she fled Urû'baen, and wondered how it had ended up in the pocket that had been sown between her skirts. Feeling the dragon's curiosity, she told him, Tis only symbols I had found carved into a tree when I was younger. I was convinced that they held the answers I sought after I met with the King and searched nearly every book and scroll for their meaning. It was fruitless and I've never found their meaning however I did lose a lot of sleep and learned a great deal about how one might find a timber wolf and how they lived their life.
Someone probably knows what it means, Thorn stated. You could ask.
Not anytime soon, said Rose, falling onto the mattress gracelessly. She turned onto her side and made a face at him in the dim light before untying her boot. I fear that I may have made a fool of myself today when I left and I do not wish to face anyone as of yet.
That is no different than any other moment, he teased, drumming the ground with his tail.
When Rose pulled her boot off from her foot, she tossed it at him and listened, satisfied, as it bounced off his bulk and onto the ground. She threw her other boot at him as well, for good measure, but it missed, hitting the wall behind the dragon and falling unceremoniously to the ground.
They remained in the dragonhold for the remainder of day and into the night. No one could reach them unless Saphira saw it fit to assist, Rose was certain that the dragon would refuse to leave Eragon's side. That night she wished to be alone and to speak to no one.
She didn't know all that had happened during the battle. The damage within Tronjheim told its own mournful tale, and if one was quiet enough it was easy to see and to be heard. The battle within the mountain marked a great shift, and Rose wasn't completely certain what it meant and this worried her. It seemed to her as if the King had decided that the Varden was a threat worth of caution, and his ultimatum was that they must be demolished for their prudence, like one might squish an insect with their foot. The urgals were supposed to be the force that brought him the victory he desired, and now, it was unknown what he would do next. And from the warning Brom had given, it seemed to her that was likely that the powers within the Varden and their allies knew this as well and were soon going to make their own grab for power however they saw fit.
Rose thought on this as she continued to clean up her bags and repack the items that were placed around when she had first arrived. Now that the Star Rose, which had been the flooring of the dragonhold, was destroyed she thought that it was likely she would need a new place to sleep. When she finished packing was late evening, and not wanting to be around anyone at that time, she picked at the meat pastries, she had avoided in the valley, and ate them before falling asleep.
Rose still needed to find Ajihad to give him the scroll that Vers sent with her before leaving Kealii Valley. She woke early that next morning, and pulled on a hooded jerkin, before waking Thorn. He rumbled lightly at her, he had been enjoying his sleep, but agreed to take her down to the city below. They landed away from the pile of shattered crystal, and she pulled her hood over her head and with a promise to be back soon, she headed to the Varden leader's office. She found his just outside his office, wearing a mixture of leather and metal armor, his hand covering his eyes. He looked up, stiffening, as she neared and Rose pulled down the hood to show her face and greet him before giving him the report.
"How were things in the valley?" he asked, not looking at the parchment before placing it in a small satchel. "I don't expect that much had happened."
Rose frowned and told him of his daughter and of the children who had vanished in their search for her. Worry coiled within her as the tale continued and she felt again the concern she had about how Ajihad might take this news but to her surprise the man merely shook his head and said, "I don't expect that you would find Nasuada in the Beors. Against my orders, she decided to defend Tronjheim with the archers. I apology for the trouble she has caused you. I'm concerned that those boys went missing. I'll have to see if I'm able to find enough men to volunteer for a search party." He reached into his bag and took out the note, reading it over quickly. "Do you have an update on Eragon?"
"No update," she said. "As far I know, there's been no change."
Ajihad nodded, his face grave, and having no more to say, he wished her a good morning and went into his office. When the door clicked shut behind him, she returned down the hallway and met Thorn in the same place he had landed before.
In the late hours of midday that next day, Eragon awoke. The news came from Saphira through Thorn to Rose, who stood in the entrance of the cave Eragon had shared with Saphira, tying his bags onto the dragon's saddle. Her fingers slipped when the dragon told her, and she struggled to tie on the bag securely in her haste.
Eragon had less bags than she, as his belongings were fewer. Beyond his clothing, Rose found a few stones he had collected over his travels, a wooden handled knife, and a single wooden carving of a toad but nothing else. Everything fit into a single leather bag. She found herself wondering again at the life he must have lived before and what her brother was like as a child, and then she thought of his anger before she had left for Kealii Valley. Apprehension coiled in her belly as she finished her knot and clambered onto Thorn.
When Rose got to the Healing Halls, she found Saphira laying contently in the hallway, her body too big to fit through the doorway. Her head snaked out of the room as they walked up down the hallway and looked at them from the side, a single blue eye gleaming. Rose smiled at her in greeting, and peeked her head into the doorway.
Brom and Eragon were talking in hush tones, and both looked up when she entered. Eragon stiffened and she held up his bag for him to see. "I'm glad to see you awake," she said coming to his bedside. "I thought that you may wish to change out you soiled clothing so I brought a peace offering."
Eragon blinked at her, and then smiled weakly. "Thank you," he said, his voice scratchy, taking the bag and digging through it, unraveling the careful folding she had done. She scowled at him. "I didn't think that everything could fit in here."
"Eragon was sharing with me something you and Thorn should hear as well," Brom said without glancing up.
Eragon nodded, and stumbling over the words slightly, told them of a nightmare was no way out of, it choked the air around him, and he felt nothing but the memories he shared from the Shades life, and how he had lost himself in a place that was in-between before he heard had a vision of valley overlooking a cliff, and a silvery figure who beckoned him. "The Mourning Sage," he said taking a long drink from his cup. "He said that we needed to see him, that it wasn't safe until we did, and to only tell you and Rose. It sounded urgent but I don't know who he is or where to find him."
Brom ran his hands over his face and sighed. "I've kept you long enough, it seems. We'll talk more about it after you rest," he said, standing up and walking toward the door as if in a daze. "Rose, don't keep him awake too long."
She watched him leave, and muttered, "He knows more than he's letting on. What did this voice say he was called?"
"Osthato Chetowä, The Mourning Sage, and, Togira Ikonoka, The Cripple Who is Whole," Eragon replied with a yawn. "How was the valley?"
"It was uneventful," she replied. "I think that we have been locked up within Tronjheim far too long. The sunshine and fresh air were a boon."
"Its good that you enjoyed it but we could have used your help during the battle." He paused and took another long drank of water. "You still have the egg," he observed, nodding at the bag between them.
She nodded. "After you rest, I would like to hear more about what happened but I need talk with you. I know that you've only just awoken but it's urgent," she said hurriedly, glancing at the doorway to the dragons. "Its about forming a proper alliance. Something that can hold everyone accountable now and in the future. Eragon, I'm worried what grabs of power are about to take place. At some point in time there were treaties written between the Dragon Riders and others, and they could be a good basis if found. They were agreed upon before and it's likely that they'll just need to be revised. Our world does not need more blood spilt needlessly and that may happen if something isn't agreed on as a whole."
"Galbatorix wouldn't agree to anything," Eragon pointed out.
"No, he would not. I was speaking of an alliance between the Varden, dwarves, elves, and the Dragons and Riders, and whatever allies they might have. If there were only one Rider and dragon perhaps things would be different and they could simply swear to the Varden's cause and all would be squared away. However, there may very well could be three of us before this year is over, and if we are not unified, I believe that, we will have not true chance of surviving what is to come," she said, placing the bag with the dragon egg onto his lap. He looked between the egg and her, before settling deeper into his pillows. His face was pale, and he ran a hand through his hair with a grimace. "I will be honest with you, I'm not a warrior or a solider or a hero and quite frankly, Eragon, I do not believe that I can ever pretend to be but I do have to ability to do something useful. My bond with Thorn has put me in a position where I can make a difference whether I want it or not, and this is something I know I can be useful at."
Eragon looked up at her, gauging her face before closing his eyes for a moment. "Why are you talking to me about this?" he asked. "It seems like something you would just go ahead and do, no matter how I felt about it."
"I need you and Saphira," she said simply. "We cannot afford to be divided any longer, Eragon. There's a reason the Rider's have fallen into legend and myth, and I cannot say that I know what for certain what caused it, nor do I believe that either or both of us can do what our forefathers were not able to. Yet, what I do know is that if we continue having a go at each other like dogs fighting for a bone than we will get nowhere."
After a time, Eragon nodded. "We'd like to hear more of what your idea is" -he yawned- "after I've rested and am functioning. But I disagree with you," he said blandly, meeting her eyes. "I believe that we can do what the Riders before us couldn't."
A/N: And here ends the first book- its bittersweet. I'll continue to edit the last two chapters and fatten them up as I begin to get back into writing but I doubt anyone wants to wait another two years for me to get back into the grove so this is it for now.
I'll be continuing this tale in a new story, those who want to continue reading: be on the lookout for that! It should be up within the next month or so; I've almost finished outlining the first two chapters but I need to reread Eldest to make sure I'm on the right track.
A huge thank you, to those who have continued to share their support for this story over the last nine years. I've shared, not too long ago, that I lost my mother and since then my father had passed away as well. I wasn't prepared for either of their deaths, both were very sudden. Still being young it's taken a toll on myself, and my brother who is much younger than I am (he's still helping shape this story. Seriously he's the best!). There's still a lot that needs to be dealt with personally but I'm now finding that writing is helping instead of hurting. I'm not sharing this for symphony but because some of you have stuck with this story for almost ten years and I'm grateful for that support and even call a few of you friends.
See you soon in the next part! Let me know what you thought of Lirouratr!
