Hello everyone,
So now begins the end game. The Varden is marching towards Uru'Baen, Roran is imprisoned and at the mercy of Murtagh and Galbatorix, and Eragon is trying to find the key to defeating Galbatorix.
I don't want to drag this out too long, nor do I want to make it too quick, so I think it'll be fairly difficult to find a good balance. Undoubtedly, I will include some other POV's, to keep everyone up to date on what is going on outside of Roran. I think that's the best way to do it but I haven't included any other POV's throughout the story, consistently, so I don't know if it will fit well, but we will try! A great exercise as an author, and I am here to get better at writing, so let's try it.
On to the chapter, authors note at the bottom.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
I awoke and sat up quickly, it took a lot of mental fortitude to not wince at the sharp pain in my abdomen because of the quick motion.
No shackles? Nothing to confine me to the room? I thought looking at my free hands and feet.
My eyes focused and adapted to the lighting in the room. It couldn't be considered too bright or dim, just right.
Perfect lighting for reading a book. I couldn't help but admit. My gaze was then drawn to a bookshelf that spanned the entire length of the wall to my right, a nice comfortable seat sat in front of it.
I tried to think back to the last time I actually had time to sit down and read, not including reports on an army. Too long. I concluded.
I swung my legs over the stone table I was laying on and hopped off of it to take in my surroundings. The floors were hard and cold on my feet, and cut too cleanly to be anything but marble. In my mind I expected everything in Uru'Baen to be black, or other dark colors, but the room was surprisingly bright with it's white floor.
I turned my gaze to the walls and walked over to feel them, once again it was cold to the touch, but not the same consistency as the marble on my feet. There were no gaps in the wall where you expect whatever materials the builder used to use caulk or an adhesive. No, the wall was one singular entity.
Carved by magic? I wondered before thinking deeper into where I was.
The Hall of the Soothsayer. Said to be built over a fissure in the earth, deep beneath Ilirea. The fumes from the fissure are said to increase the chance of Prophetic dreams. I remembered from my previous life, and also my reading during my time spent in Du Weldenvarden.
And so the walls and ceiling are carved from the cave, while the marble sits on top of it. I wonder how big of a gap there is between the marble and the fissure. I concluded my analysis of the room.
No later than I had the thought, did the door to the room open. I don't know who I expected to walk in, but I expected more mind games until I was graced with the presence of the big dog, the King himself.
Galbatorix walked into the room, with the purpose and grace only learned from a lifetime of being a King. His cheekbones were high and cut into his face, as you would expect from nobility. His nose wasn't perfect, but it's thinness fit the rest of his face and didn't look out of place. His lips were thin and the only thing about him that could be considered unattractive. His wavy hair fell to his shoulders from behind his crown that sat on his temples. His beard was kept close to his face, neatly trimmed.
We spent nearly the same amount of time sizing each other up. When he was done, he took his time in approaching the chair next to the bookcase, showing his back to me, and sitting down.
Wants me to know he doesn't consider me a threat, hence the lack of shackles on me and the lack of a sword on him. I deduced from our small interaction.
His right leg swung over his left to rest there as he made himself comfortable in the chair. I decided that if I was going to suffer through his insufferable power play, then I might as well be comfortable.
I moved away from the wall I was inspecting and made my way towards the stone table in the middle of the room. It was horribly straight and uncomfortable, but I climbed on it and sat criss-cross applesauce before turning my attention to him.
"One has to have a certain respect for you." I spoke first, knowing that I was letting him win our little stare down. "Even if I find what you did…" I struggled to find the word. "...well how do I even describe how I feel about that."
Galbatorix's eyes twinkled with confusion at first, and then amusement finally.
"After all, I am trying to topple an all powerful regime, just as you did a century ago." I concluded. "The similarities are undeniable. Both of us have left death and destruction in our wake."
Galbatorix's head bobbed up and down in agreement before he finally spoke.
"It is interesting isn't it." Galbatorix agreed. His voice flowed like honey, seductive to the unprepared. "Although I am nothing like them." He finished with anger seeping into his voice.
"After all this time, you're still ruled by your hatred of the council." I responded surprised at finding his button so quickly.
He smiled before responding. "My greatest advantage and weakness, I have found."
I tilted my head, trying to figure him out. "The mad King, the elves portray you." I pondered.
"Oh I have no doubt. Their grudges last even longer than my own. Evander was a worthy opponent, but he was nothing compared to Vrael." Galbatorix answered quickly. "Their people will never forgive me, a human, for besting their Kings."
Kings. I noted his use of the word and I couldn't help but agree with him.
"Did you know?" I wondered while we were on the topics of his past. "Humans being…"
"Capable of magic?" Galbatorix interrupted me, guessing where I was taking the conversation. "It took me two decades to discover it. That was just another one of the council's betrayals, it did not surprise me."
I didn't know what to say after that. Galbatorix filled the silence for me.
"Did you know that after the humans first landed and started colonizing the land, they were planning on bonding to a race other than the dragons?" Galbatorix asked throwing me for a loop hearing it.
I racked my brain for any race comparable to the dragons, a race made by magic. It hit me with the force of a train.
"Spirits are considered a race?" I asked almost mind blown at the possibilities.
Galbatorix smiled, knowing I was eating from the palm of his hand. "The council never planned on including us in the pact, until they caught wind of what our ancestors were planning. They knew it would lead to a war that they weren't sure they could win. So they decided that controlling us through the pact was the better solution."
I was honestly mind-blown at the information. Tied to spirits, who knows what humans would have been capable of. We wouldn't all be shades surely, but a different type of magic no doubt. Faster, stronger, and long lived like the elves.
"We would have been their equal." I deduced, realizing the gravity of the Council of Riders decisions.
"Or their better." Galbatorix announced. "We will never know. That war would have made mine look like a child's spat, the Council made the right decision."
"Agreed." I couldn't help but say.
"Jarnunvosk would have never chosen me, and Saphira would have never hatched for Eragon." Galbatorix admitted, naming his first dragon and not his current one.
That brought out my next question. "Shruikan never filled that hole did it?" I decided to be direct.
His eyes hardened then. "I have entertained your questions long enough, it's time you answer some of mine."
He switched over to the Ancient Language for his question. "What is the Varden's next step?" Galbatorix asked.
"They will meet with the elves, outside of Ilirea, and attack." I answered honestly. He already knows this.
"Who will lead them?" Galbatorix continued.
"Why ask questions you already know the answer to?" I asked him.
"Eragon then." Galbatorix deduced. "Did Oromis or Brom tell him the source of my power?"
"I don't know." I answered truthfully in the Ancient Language. In my mind, both the Eldunari and the Name are the sources of your power. I truly have no idea if they told Eragon about the Name, so the Ancient Language let me answer this way.
"That is the first time you have manipulated your answer." Galbatorix responded. "I studied amongst the masters of the language boy! I know when you lie, without having to break your mind."
"Then you know it was not necessarily a lie. Just an omission of some truths combined with your lack of specificity." I bit back to him quickly.
"So he does know of the Eldunari…" Galbatorix deduced out loud.
"I do." I answered him. "And if I do, then why wouldn't he?"
Galbatorix's laugh echoed through the hall then. Once he was done, he responded. "You have begun to believe your own lies haven't you?"
I didn't know how to respond to the question, in fact it threw me off for a moment.
"You still believe Eragon to be the figurehead, the symbol?" He asked genuinely.
"Of course." I answered.
Once again his laugh rang out. "You don't know many unknown ripples you threw into Oromis and Islanzadi's plans. A Dragon Rider, hopefully elven but it truly didn't matter, rises up to take revenge for the council of old, striking down the mad Rider turned King."
Once again his laugh echoed through the room. "Even your weapon of choice is a spit in their face, a warhammer of Dwarven metalsmiths. I have truly enjoyed your rise."
Apparently my confusion was still written on my face.
"Do I have to spell it out for you?" He asked. "Oh very well, it amuses me."
He cleared his throat and I waited patiently while trying to school my features. "I hate to break it to you, but it is you, not Eragon, that is the figurehead, the symbol. Tell me, which is more relatable to the men of the Varden. A farm boy chosen by fate, trained by elves, a race considered superior; or another farm boy who rose up on his own sweat, blood, and tears, trained by a fellow man? Who would inspire the masses more?"
I grit my teeth and tried to find fault in his argument, my anger rose when I couldn't.
"Both of you are two ideals, opposite in nature. Admittedly, both are effective but the master stroke was the other night. I underestimated you, I thought that by taking you from the heart of the Varden, it would discourage them. And then you walked willingly into my arms, while telling everyone in the army of how you trust them to finish what you started. 'Stronghammer' has come to mean many things, a title of triumph, an ideal, a leader, a martyr, and finally it will be a battlecry."
I sat silently as he praised my actions over the past few years. Surely he knows of my time in Ellesmera? I wondered. Or maybe he doesn't care.
"No wonder Islanzadi encouraged Nasuada to kill you."
That took me back, but I didn't let it show.
"Oh you didn't know?"
Maybe I did let it show.
"They need Eragon. He is their key to the next chapter of this world. Trained by elves, altered to look like an elf, weilding a sword made by the 'best smith who ever lived', an elf. You, a regular man who figured out a way to alter himself with magic but stay human, cut a bloody path through the heart of my empire, with no help from the elves at all. Need I continue to lay this out for you?" Galbatorix finished with a raised eyebrow.
"No. I think you made your point." I answered, grateful that he stopped talking. "You're missing a lot of details." I protested.
"You know how easily that is manipulated through rumors. And would it even matter to the average man?" Galbatorix cut my protest down.
Both of us were cut off when the door opened again.
Murtagh stood there, dressed as casually as I would expect from a general and Dragon Rider in Galbatorix's army. Zar'roc graced his side.
"Ahhh Murtagh, thank you for joining us. We were having a very enlightening discussion." Galbatorix greeted him.
"Cousin." I nodded towards Murtagh. He didn't acknowledge me.
"Your grace." Murtagh answered with a bow of his head.
"And this is why I despise you, Galbatorix." I spoke, motioning to Murtagh's cowering nature.
"This? Of all things?" Galbatorix asked, genuinely curious.
I nodded. "Absolutely."
Murtagh finally looked in my direction then, with a look on his face that I couldn't discern.
"Hmm, interesting. Well with Murtagh's arrival, our civil discussion has come to an end. Now it is time for you to tell us… everything." Galbatorix stated and finished with a whisper that shook the air around me.
Invisible hands grabbed each of my limbs and forced me back on to the table in a spread eagle position. I didn't bother resisting and losing my strength.
Grit and bear and for the love of God, don't scream. I thought to myself in preparation for what was to come.
"Now, how does Eragon plan to breach Uru'Baen." Galbatorix asked.
I stared up at the ceiling, and didn't open my mouth at all. I could have screamed obscenities at him and told him to go fuck his mother, but I didn't.
Murtagh approached my side and in his hand was a piece of iron, and the tip of it had been heated and was glowing orange.
Hmm didn't see him bring that in. I pondered as it got closer to the skin on my arm.
When it finally touched my arm, I couldn't help but let out a grunt of disapproval.
*Eragon POV*
Armies sure do kick up a bunch of dust. I commented to my bonded partner as I looked down at the marching soldiers below.
Not near as much as a thunder of dragons would. Saphira teased back at me, one of her many jabs at me being tiny and two-legged. Her amusement bled across our link.
They will reach Uru'Baen within the week. Galbatorix is waiting on us, there will be no ambush. I commented back to her, tired of putting the conversation off.
Aye, it is time. Saphira agreed almost immediately, we both knew the arguments for staying and agreed it didn't outweigh the threat if we didn't leave.
Her body angled back towards the front of the marching army and my body automatically leaned to make the turn easier on myself. Most of the time I didn't even realize I was doing it, it was instinct. We dove towards where we knew Brom and the others would be leading the procession.
I focused on relishing the view, the rush of diving in such a manner, and the wind on my body instead of the coming conversation. It didn't last long enough and Saphira's wings reached out and caught the air, slowing us down quickly.
Saphira hit the ground in front of Brom's horse, scaring the poor creature, to the amusement of my beloved. I hopped off the saddle after pulling the straps free and walked over to Brom's horse. Saphira took off in the sky once again, not wanting to be confined to the ground.
The conversation could have been had in the air via our minds but there are some conversations that need to be had in person.
"Eragon, was that really necessary?" Brom asked from on top of his horse who was still skittish.
"No, but you know how Saphira is." I answered quickly. "We need to talk."
"About what?" Brom asked getting straight to the point. He has become grumpy since Roran left.
"I'm going to the Rock of Kuthian." I stated, knowing he would forget about it.
"The Rock of….Well spit out, what do you want to talk about?"
I sighed, confused as to why I was the only person who could hold the name in their heads for any length of time.
"I'm going to the place where I need to go when all hope seems lost." I answered, hoping that would clear things up.
"Why does that sound familiar?" Brom asked after hearing the words.
"It is part of the instructions the werecats told me. We still don't have a way to defeat Galbatorix, we are marching towards our defeat, unless I go find out what the werecats are talking about." I explained without saying the words.
"So when all hope seems lost you what? Leave?"
"Solembum says that when all seems lost and my power is insufficient, go to this place and speak your name to open this thing." I tried to quote to the best of my ability without him losing the information.
"What place, what thing, boy? You are testing my patience today." Brom bit back, upset.
"Everytime I say the place or thing, you forget it. There is some kind of mind magic on the locations." I yelled back just as upset at the implications.
"Mind magic?..." Brom scrunched his brow. "Blast! It happened again?"
Everytime I bring it up. I thought.
"Aye."
"So you're leaving to chase down an answer to your 'insufficient power'?" Brom asked condescendingly.
"Aye. The Varden is yours until I return." I answered without bothering to explain my reasoning, he wouldn't understand. "Hold off the attack until I return, I'm going to Vroengard." I told him dropping the bomb on where the Rock of Kuthian was.
Brom took a second to gather himself after learning where I was going.
"It'll take you a week and half to get there and back, assuming you only use a day looking for this place." Brom reasoned quickly, no doubt knowing the time because of his own time spent as a Dragon Rider.
"I know." I answered. "Stall the attack, sieges can take a notoriously long time. Galbatorix won't think anything of it." I reasoned, hoping that I was correct.
"Barzul! You're just as stubborn as I was."
I just smiled at him.
*Roran POV*
I stared down at my right arm, where red burns pulsated from seven different locations sending fire up my arm.
"I screamed."
I looked up to see my visitor, Murtagh. The same man who put the glowing hot iron to my forearm yesterday. The same man who would apply it to other parts of my body also.
"That's natural." I retorted.
"You didn't scream." His simple rebuttal came fast.
He was sitting in the same seat as Galbatorix the day before, and I was once again sitting down with my legs crossed on my bed/torture rock.
"Because I didn't want to." I explained. "The pain was no greater, no less than your own. The only difference was the mind experiencing it."
"I can't be you." Murtagh admitted.
"I don't want you to be. I want you to be yourself, find your inner strength, use it to bend your weakness to submission." I lectured.
"It's too late, I can't change. I've tried." Murtagh croaked out, upset but keeping his voice down. He didn't have to, he warded the chamber against unwanted ears when he walked in.
"That's the first and most important step." I praised. "But you can't change yourself while still holding on to the things you want to change."
"I don't know what that means!" He hissed in response.
"That's why I'm here Murtagh." I told him gently before continuing. "Let me ask you a question. Do you make your own bed? Do you dress yourself?" I asked.
"No, servants do both." He answered honestly.
"Good, let me explain it this way. You have chains on you, placed on you by someone. Everything you do is in his control. So let's start small, Instead of the red shirt he picks out for you tomorrow, where black. Instead of servants making your bed and feeding you, you make your bed in a different way, and cook your own food. Our minds are ruled by the things around us. A man's house is a direct representation of his mind. If his room is messy, then his mind mirrors that, etc. You want to know how to change?" I finished.
The whole time I was speaking his eyes slowly started to show recognition. "Yes."
"Then start taking control of your own life. Master your surroundings, and you will master your mind." I reasoned. "Galbatorix rules his own mind and the minds of the people around him yes?"
"Aye." Murtagh answered.
"It is mirrored in the physical world, he controls how his servants walk, how they talk, and how they think." I laid it out for him. "Change it all Murtagh."
Murtagh stood up, out of the chair he was sitting in and looked back to it. "He always wanted me to note how he sat, how he spoke. My first instinct was to sit in the chair he sat in."
I smiled, the lesson imparting on him. "Good, now the work begins."
I saw one of the rarest things I had ever seen on Murtagh's face after that.
Hope.
A/N: Cut!
We got to meet Galbatorix, and boy is he manipulative. He makes you agree with him, and then he twists your view to slowly see things the way he does.
Roran is lucky, if you can call it that, because he also knows how to manipulate people but he chooses not to. He also has a trick under his sleeve.
Well what do we think about some of the information bombs dropped on everyone today? What about the history with the Riders of old and the first humans on Alagaesia? Spirits, possible? What about Roran helping Murtagh? Will it be enough?
Let's talk about it in the reviews!