We are returning to Eragon's point of view. You know I've been receiving reviews that I'm updating too fast. Do you all prefer if I take it slow? Like a chapter a week? (Though I think the majority are fine with the speed of my updates currently). I know it seems like I'm trying to rush in busting out these chapters but I've neglected this story and I have free time so I thought I would spend time writing this. Anyways to answer some question. What about Arya's personality? Well, Arya is a soft on several people including Eragon and Eridor. But you have to remember that she's sort of cemented her cold personality and will oftentimes come off as such. Also she can't use magic without words (I just didn't feel like actually looking up the words for her spell or writing it in :p) RR!
He tried to concentrate on the large book before him that was given to him by Brom before he left. The title of the book was Domia abr Wyrda, and when translated into the human tongue, it was called the Dominance of Fate. As he was reading, he felt his brow twitch as he heard meat being ripped. He continued onward. There was a squelch. Frowning, Eragon used all of his strength to ignore the sounds behind him. He continued reading the line. A loud snap startled him from his thoughts. He closed his book with a snap and turned to face Saphira as she was finishing off her fifth deer. She'd been flying swiftly for them to make it to Gil'ead in time before the siege started. In order to prepare, she'd been eating a great amount of food. Eragon being much stealthier than her had found several deer for her to eat. For the past hour or so, he'd been trying his best to read as she ate continuously making a great deal of noise behind him.
Ripping the flesh from the last of the deer she was eating, she blinked at him. Distracted? Saphira asked knowing full well that he was. Eragon sighed and made his way over the saddle. He had taken it off of Saphira so that she could eat without feeling restrained by the leather. Opening one of his bags, he placed the large book inside. It was an interesting book thought Eragon as he returned to his spot by Saphira who was now cleaning her teeth. Galbatorix had banned it in the Empire though. If one had a copy, one was branded a heretic. Most of the copies were burned but it seemed that a great deal had survived outside of the Empire. Eragon, can you get me some fireweed? My stomach feels slightly heavy.
That's because you've gorged yourself on five fully grown deer, said Eragon but he did as she asked. When he retrieved the fireweed he gave it to her to chew on to settle her stomach. He watched as she chewed on the fireweed and felt a rush of affection for Saphira. Smiling, he reached over and scratched her underneath her jaw tickling a sensitive spot. She twisted her head away.
Stop that. It tickles, said Saphira in an attempt to reprimand him. Eragon smiled doing as she asked. He resumed sitting once more letting Saphira chew in peace. He didn't want her to fly on an upset stomach to Gil'ead. He glanced up at the setting sun which caused a fiery hue to take place of the once blue sky. It had been four days since they'd departed from Farthen Dûr. Saphira being an apt flyer easily navigated the skies as they made their way to Gil'ead. It was odd to think that though Eragon did not consider the Empire his home that he recognized the places they flew over. Steering clear of Urû'baen, Saphira sacrificed a few hours in order for them to safely stay out of Galbatorix's reach. But something ate at Eragon. It was a thought that he'd been contemplating the last two days.
Galbatorix had enough power, he was sure, to easily put the rebellion to rest. He could've flown out from his castle with his black dragon and attacked them before dragging them back to his black city to get them to pledge their services to him. It could be thought Eragon that Galbatorix wanted to build up their hopes and later crush them. It was a way that he easily broke people. Eragon understood that better than anyone else. Shaking his head to clear his mind, he stared out into the distance. He could see the dark sight of Gil'ead a distance away. Islanzadí was there and he was sure that Oromis and Glaedr were as well.
He could feel Saphira's excitement at meeting their two masters and the opportunity for them to fight beside their teachers. Eragon was more worried than excited. Gil'ead was Galbatorix's military fortress to the north. He let the elves take Ceunon for it meant little to him but Gil'ead was an important fortress that he wasn't going to let go easily. The soldiers there had a different mindset as well for the man who lorded over the city was a devoted citizen of the Empire. Lord Cadmaran had a do-or-die stance. Eragon was uncertain of what Cadmaran had under his sleeves. He was as devoted a servant to Galbatorix as Jeremiah was. He blinked wondering if Cadmaran would even go as far as to set Gil'ead on flames in order to keep it out of the hands of the elves.
Men like Cadmaran are dangerous on the battlefield, thought Eragon. He felt Saphira's thoughts float through his head as he was trying to think of any drastic tactics that Cadmaran might take. His soldiers followed him with the same piety he devoted to Galbatorix. If he told them to jump off the walls of Gil'ead they would gladly do it. They reminded him of the religious cannibal cult in Dras-Leona. He detested the cult that revered the Ra'zac. They were a disgusting race and if Murtagh's account of his time at Helgrind was anything to go by, they were now extinct in Alagaësia unless that cult was harboring any more of them.
At the thought of the cult that resided in the black citadel in Dras-Leona he felt a chill run down his spine. He'd come into contact with the members once and was less than pleased to even be breathing the same air as them. All of their believes were distorted and they took pleasure in mutilating themselves. What was more was that they had a great distaste for dragon riders. They were forced to obey Galbatorix due to his command over the Ra'zac who they worshipped. Apart from their practices, Eragon knew little about the cult itself. When the time came for them to take the city of Dras-Leona he would be glad to set the citadel on flames. He never liked the dark structure.
I'm done, Saphira announced. He could feel through their link that she felt much better. Her stomach was settled. Eragon nodded, he stood and picked up the saddle. Making his way over to Saphira, he slid the saddle onto her and did the straps making sure that it wasn't too tight for her. Shaking her head slightly, Saphira let out a puff of air as she waited for him to climb on. Sliding his legs into the straps, he secured himself in the saddle. When he gave her the signal that he was secured, she launched forward into the air climbing higher into the fiery sky. I can see the elf encampment in the distance. By nightfall we should reach them.
He felt apprehension wash over him. It would be the first time he would meet Islanzadí after he and Arya became mates and what was more was that Arya had forged an unbreakable bond between them by binding their souls together. He was sure that the Islanzadí wasn't going to take the news lightly. Feeling slightly paranoid, Eragon sniffed himself. He still couldn't detect how he smelt differently. Saphira had claimed that he still had the lingering scent that was Arya mixed in with him. It was a sign that they had consummated their bond Saphira said. But so far it seemed like only the dragons could smell the change in his scent. Even Arya couldn't detect it. Perhaps Islanzadí had a sensitive sense of smell like Blödhgarm? Eragon knew without a doubt that the wolf-elf would be able to smell the change in his scent. He wondered if Arya had any qualms about smelling different despite how slight it was. He'd always loved how she smelled of spicy pine needles. It was a smell that was uniquely hers.
That night when they first came together, he remembered just lavishing his lips all over her skin because his mind was heady with her aroma. She never told him how he smelt but he knew that she wasn't repulsed by it.
We are on the brink of battle and you are worrying about whether or not you smell decent for Arya, said Saphira in disbelief as Eragon's slight panic washed over her. I shall never understand why you two-legs always worry about such matters.
Of course you're not worried, said Eragon in reply to her. You're already beautiful as you are. He felt her pleasure at his flattering words. She didn't tease him as much later as he thought long and hard on Arya's reactions to him when he was close to her. Apart from her affections and warmth he was sure she wasn't bothered by his smell. The thought of it irked him. He only remembered once when she'd commented on his smell. She had said that he smelt nice, more so than Blödhgarm. Then again, she said she was more partial to his scent. As Saphira flew, his thoughts trailed to the memory of her scrying him. He'd know she would do so when she learned of his decision to fly to Gil'ead.
Arya was not happy with his decision that much was clear.
He remembered how displeased she looked when he spoke to her about his decision. Her brows were slanted dangerously, her emerald eyes narrowed, and her expression was hard. It had been some time since he'd seen that expression of hers. He felt himself smile lightly, that was one of the reasons why he felt so drawn to her in the first place. As they flew, they passed Gil'ead. He stared at the dark city as they passed already feeling the heaviness of an upcoming battle settle over him. It would be the first time since he'd stepped into the city of Gil'ead since he let Murtagh and Arya escape. How would the citizens respond to him he wondered. They would no doubt curse his name as a traitor. That was what he was.
Saphira continued to fly as night blanketed them. Due to nightfall, he was able to make out the lights that were no doubt the lanterns that lit the elves' encampment. The more they flew; the elves' encampment became clearer. He could make out the orderly tents that were set up. He couldn't hear a single sound from the direction of the encampment meaning that they had no doubt set wards about the encampment. A little off to the side of the large encampment, he saw the large golden mass that was Glaedr.
They have made it, said Saphira. He nodded already feeling his anxiety return to him. He hated the feeling. Ever since he'd joined the Varden it seemed like his anxiety has grown by leaps and bounds. As they neared the encampment, he felt the strong presence of the elven army. The great amounts of energy that comprised of thousands of minds were enough to scare off any company of soldiers. He saw movement on the ground below them as Saphira circled above the encampment to make her presence known in order to avoid any unintentional attacks. After a few moments, she landed on the outskirts of the camp. Undoing the straps on his legs, Eragon slid from the saddle landing on his feet as a company of elves came out to greet him. They greeted him first with the traditional greetings that elves did and Eragon returned in kind speaking in the ancient language.
"Shadeslayer," one of the elves greeted him. He was dressed in fine silver armor with a sword at his hip and a bow and quiver slung on his back. Like most elves, the elf before him was tall and proud with dark hair and a fair face. "We had felt a strong presence approaching us and had questioned what it could be. Our worries were for not. Why brings you here?"
"I have come to assist in the siege for Gil'ead," answered Eragon. His answer surprised them. He could see something in their expression shift and saw a hint of approval at his decision. "It is only fair that there are two riders fighting for each front."
"A statement that is well said," the elf, Arthon said. He gestured towards the company of elves behind him. They nodded breaking away to return to their posts except for Arthon and a female elf. "Let me guide you and Saphira Brightscales to the command tent. Queen Islanzadí and the other commanders are discussing the last of our preparations. She will no doubt be pleased to see the two of you.
One could only hope, thought Eragon as he followed Arthon. They weaved in and out of the tents and Eragon felt a great peace amongst the elves. Even though they were all prepared for battle, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It was a normal day like no other for them. They went about their business as if instead of sleeping in tents outside Gil'ead, they were back in their lush green forest. As they walked, the elves would bow and extend their greetings to him and Saphira. He could tell that Saphira was greatly enjoying the attention despite the fact that she was awed at often.
They continued their walking until they came to a beautiful white tent. Posted outside were two fair male elves, each wearing battle-worn armor and equipped with multiple weapons. In their hands they held spears and at their waist like every other elf was a sword. Their expressions were of surprise at the sight of Eragon and Saphira. Arthon stopped and greeted them.
"Eragon Shadeslayer and Saphira Brightscales have come to lend us their assistance," explained Arthon. One of the guards nodded and entered the tent to rely the message to Islanzadí. Eragon inwardly steeled himself. He was prepared to face the Queen. She may not accept him as Arya's mate but that didn't mean he was going to shirk from his duties. It was going to be difficult Eragon knew to work under Islanzadí but he needed to do this. A minute passed before the guard returned and nodded allowing Eragon to pass. Arthon took his leave then. Eragon murmured his farewell to the elf.
I shall listen from the outside, said Saphira as she settled in a comfortable position beside the white command tent. He nodded and pulled back the tent flap entering the tent. It was spacious inside. He saw a beautifully carved high chair towards the back of the tent before a dark wooden desk adorned with scrolls and texts. By the chair was a stand no doubt for the white raven, Blagden. In the center of the tent was a folding table where a large map was laid out on and surrounding the table were several individuals of importance including Queen Islanzadí, Oromis, and Lord Däthedr, who was a friend of Arya's. Hanging from the posts that structured the tent were several amber lanterns.
Knowing that they were watching him closely, Eragon walked forward staring straight at Queen Islanzadí. He couldn't afford to appear rude and ineloquent, as Arya often called him, for it would only cause Arya trouble. He did not want Arya to be on the receiving end of any criticism due to his behavior. Queen Islanzadí wore a bright corselet of golden scale armor, augmented with mail and greaves and a beautifully decorated helm—set with opals and other precious gemstones—that held back her flowing black tresses. A red cape trimmed with white billowed from her shoulders; it reminded Eragon of a looming storm front. At her waist was a beautiful sword that he had no doubt she was more than capable of wielding.
Eragon stopped short of the table. He touched his lips with his fingers, then twisted his right hand over his chest in the elves' gesture of loyalty and respect and recited the opening line of their tradition greeting, speaking first, as was proper when addressing one of higher rank. And if one were to think of it, Arya considered his family as her own oftentimes going out of her way to assist in matters that did not require her attention. Orik had called Arya the equivalent of his wife when they were in Farthen Dûr. That would mean that Queen Islanzadí was the equivalent of a mother-in-law. At the thought of it, he felt his anxiety suddenly return. Then Saphira sent him an image that stumped him for a few seconds. She was picturing him, Arya, Queen Islanzadí and the rest of his family eating at one table. If he lived long enough to see the end of the war, that was the next obstacle to overcome: family. Islanzadí made the expected response, and in an attempt to please her and hopefully shift his image in her eyes even by the slightest, Eragon concluded with the optional third line of the salutation: "And my peace live in your heart."
She regarded him for a moment and he could tell that she acknowledged his maneuver with a slight smile, "And yours as well, Shadeslayer." Her low, rich voice contained hints of rustling pine needles and gurgling brooks and music played on reed pipes. Her emerald eyes which reminded him greatly of Arya traveled to the tent flap. "Peace is difficult to come by these days. In but a few hours, we shall be storming the gates of Gil'ead."
"Has the fighting been heavy, Your Majesty?" asked Eragon after he completed the greeting for everyone assembled at the table. However, he only said the third phrase once more and that was when he was greeting Oromis. His master was dressed accordingly for battle. He was dressed similarly to Queen Islanzadí. Oromis wore a corselet of golden scale armor, as well as bracers upon his arms. A tall, diamond-shaped shield was slung on across his back, an archaic helm rested in the crook of his left arm, and around his waist was Naegling, his golden sword. There was a pause and he knew that Saphira was also greeting them mentally in order to properly show her respect. When she was done, Islanzadí spoke answering his question.
"It will be soon," said Islanzadí as she gazed upon him, "Now tell me Shadeslayer why are you here?"
Eragon glanced to the shadow of Saphira that was against the tent. Though it was a political move in of itself, he also had his personal reasons for flying out to Gil'ead, reasons that he would rather not say. "I came, Your Majesty, to fulfill my duty as a Dragon Rider," explained Eragon the ancient language flowing smoothly from his lips. "As the leader of the last free riders of Alagaësia I have a duty to stand at the forefront of battle."
"What of the Varden?" asked Queen Islanzadí waiting for him to acknowledge his loyalty by word of mouth. For a moment he was angered that she would not let the matter at rest but he knew that if the war was ever over, he had to learn to pick a position and stand by it. That was what made a good leader. Queen Islanzadí no matter how strict or imposing was a good leader as was Nasuada. And that was because they knew where they stood in life and before their people.
"I've spoke to Lady Nasuada and it was agreed that having three riders fight on the Varden's front was poor form when our allies are ready to take the military stronghold that is Gil'ead," said Eragon watching as Islanzadí nodded. "It is only fair that I fly out and join Your Majesty and assist in the siege of the city."
He could tell that they were pleased with his answer. "It pleases me to know that you understand your duties as a Dragon Rider well, Eragon Shur'tugal. You have taught him well Oromis." His master merely inclined his head. Islanzadí returned her gaze to him, Eragon could tell that there was something she wanted to say to him but refrained from doing so. "You have flown swiftly and have arrived in time for a review of our preparations. It is also prudent that you are aware of the situation before you fly into battle." Her eyes glanced at Däthedr, her advisor.
Däthedr spoke in his lilting voice, "We have divided our warriors in order to surround the city. Several elves will scale the walls and take control of the parapet in order to prevent any unwanted attacks from above. Once the gates are opened, the remaining warriors will be lead by Queen Islanzadí and fight underneath her command. In order to take the city, we must capture Lord Cadmaran."
"What of you Master Oromis?" asked Eragon as he stood behind the aged elf. His master raised a brow and spared Eragon a slight smile.
"Glaedr and I shall lend aid where we are needed," that would mean that he was fighting separately from the other elves. Eragon fought the frown that was making his way onto his face, if Queen Islanzadí ordered him to fight alongside her it would be hard for him to seek to protect Oromis.
"From what we've gathered," continued Däthedr, "Galbatorix has sent several magicians to reinforce the city. However, with our combined might they will have no chance of fulfilling his orders." Eragon could hear the underlying ruthlessness in the elf's voice. They were a determined and ruthless race thought Eragon. His encounters with them were proof of that enough and if Arya was anyone to go by, she was a prime example of an elf. They were the same thought Eragon as he stood with them not only in appearance but in mindset. He was born a human but he found that he often lacked the compassionate side that humans valued. It had died back in Galbatorix's dungeons only to be reborn with the time he'd spent outside of the Empire. However, in battle he was determined and ruthless. The only thing that mattered to him was his goal.
His eyes darted to Queen Islanzadí and he spoke, "What is it that you will have of me Your Majesty?"
She stared at him for a long moment, her dagger-shaped eyebrow slanted as if deep in thought. With that expression, she bore a striking resemblance to Arya, although her stature and bearing were even more impressive than her daughter's.
She lifted her chin, "This shall be the first time you will fight beside us Shur'tugal," her eyes darted to the map, "I have been told that you are well acquainted with the city of Gil'ead." Eragon nodded. She continued, "Then I shall have you and Saphira fly over the walls of the city and inflict as much chaos as you can to frighten them and we shall join and sweep aside our enemies in their disarray like dry leaves before a winter storm. I cannot leave command of my warriors and shall trust that you are capable of capturing Lord Cadmaran."
"As you say Your Majesty," murmured Eragon acknowledging her authority over him. She nodded, a sharp bird-like motion and continued to speak about the upcoming siege. Eragon stood there listening to her words and instructions. She truly was a leader thought Eragon. Nasuada had a talent in bringing together the masses and calling forth their loyalty and fealty. But Islanzadí was a figure for her people during battle and peace. She knew how to formulate battle plans, show equality, and her presence alone demanded the respect she deserved. Arya was unlike her mother and yet they were very similar like matched blades. When she was done Islanzadí and her advisors and generals took their leave to review some last preparations leaving only Eragon and Oromis in the command tent.
He turned to Oromis wondering why Glaedr was not present for the meeting, when he voiced his thoughts his master said, "He is resting and gathering his energy as we prepare to take Gil'ead. It shall not be a simple feat Eragon."
"That is why I came to join you," said Eragon. He glanced away as Oromis stared at him with a kind expression as if knowing full well his personal reasons for flying out to join the elves. He paused not sure if it was out of bounds to ask but seeing his expression, Oromis asked him to speak his mind. "How are you feeling Master Oromis to join in battle after so long?"
His expression became grave as he contemplated Eragon's words before slowly speaking, "For the past century I have not killed and the same for my people while we stow away in Du Weldenvarden, it saddens me to forsake the forest and have to take a life—lives—for the sake of peace. Gil'ead once was a beautiful city."
"Have you been to Gil'ead before?" asked Eragon. Oromis nodded.
"In my youth when Glaedr was but a young dragon like Saphira," explained Oromis. "It was once known by a different name than Gil'ead. My people lived here as well as our friends. However since Galbatorix's betrayal, his Forsworn have taken this city for their own and it was abandoned and later populated with the citizens of the Empire. Two of Glaedr's nest-mates were killed here by the Forsworn."
So that was the story thought Eragon. That would make sense. The history of Alagaësia started with the dragons. The land was built for them and then the god Helzvog made the stout and sturdy dwarves from the stone of the Hadarac Desert. Their races warred much and then the elves sailed to Alagaësia from across the silver sea. They too warred with the dragons. However they were strong than the dwarves and they would have destroyed the dragons, even as the dragons would have destroyed the elves. Then to ensure peace the survival of both of their races, a truce was sealed between the two races and the Dragon Riders were born, an order that kept the peace in Alagaësia for thousands of years. Following the elves were humans, Urgals, and then the Ra'zac. After much thought humans also joined the pact with the dragons.
"Retaking this city will be our answer to them for letting Galbatorix wrought such horrors on this land," said Oromis sadly. Eragon wanted to say something as he saw the aged grief on Oromis's face. It lasted for barely a second before it disappeared. "You must rest Eragon for soon after you shall be called upon to fight a people who were once yours."
"I shall like to speak with him before he leaves," the tent flap was pushed aside once more and Islanzadí returned, this time alone. Oromis stared at him once more before taking his leave. Eragon was silent as he watched Islanzadí move about the command tent with as much grace as if she was gliding. He would even go to say that she was more graceful than Arya.
What do you think she could possibly want to speak to me about Saphira? Asked Eragon. No reply came. He blinked his eyes darting to the side of the tent surprised that her shadow was not there. Catching his stare, Islanzadí spoke, "I asked Saphira if I may speak to you alone Eragon Shadeslayer."
The tone of her voice made his wait on edge. She moved about for a moment before turning to him with an expression that resembled Arya so much that he was momentarily stunned. He felt as if he was in this situation before. "I see you have new swords," observed Islanzadí her eyes moving between Brisingr and Vrangr. He nodded, she stretched out her hand. "May I?"
Trusting that Islanzadí was not going to attack him, he handed her Brisingr watching as she slid the blade from its sheath to study it. When she inquired to the name of his sword, he told her but in a roundabout way knowing that if he spoke the sword's name it would light up in her hand. And he was not sure if she would take to such an unintentional action lightly. After a few more seconds, she sheathed Brisingr and returned it to Eragon. "It is a beautiful blade," said Islanzadí as Eragon handed her Vrangr. She studied the second sword, "May I ask how these were forged?"
He nodded explaining to her how Rhunön had circumvent her oath to make him both swords. He told her how he made Brisingr and when he spoke about Vrangr, he hesitated slightly. When she heard that Arya had forged the sword for him, there was a change of emotion in Islanzadí's countenance. She stared at the sword with hard eyes. The queen was struggling with something he could tell. And for the first time since that night, she truly looked tired. Staring at Queen Islanzadí he felt like he understood how he and his father appeared to others; each of them struggling with their own decisions in life.
After a long moment she returned Vrangr to Eragon the moment the sword made contact with his hands, the blade pulsed to life proof that he and Arya were soul bonded. He sheathed the sword waiting for Islanzadí to speak. "Arya has told me that she chose you as her mate," said Islanzadí quietly. Eragon realized that she was no longer speaking to him as the queen of her people but rather as the mother of the woman he loved.
"We are mates," said Eragon reasserting the fact. He wanted to resolve this matter with Islanzadí before they went to battle so that the both of them weren't burdened with this matter. She was trying to protect Arya, he knew that much. Islanzadí was only doing what any mother would do, she was holding Arya's best interests at heart. But Arya had an independent side to her. He knew that well enough.
Islanzadí stared at him for a long moment drawing herself upright, "You are much different from when you left Ellesmeŕa, Eragon Shadeslayer."
"In mind and in body," said Eragon letting the truth of his words wash over Islanzadí. "Arya has cured me of my illness." Islanzadí looked at him sharply as if this was the first time she'd heard of such things. That was odd thought Eragon. He had thought Oromis would tell her of what had happened. Either way… "When the spirit took over my body, Arya was there to bring me back to myself and reunite both halves of my soul. She made the ultimate sacrifice on my behalf."
Islanzadí did not speak but waited for him to continue. The silence in the tent loomed over them. He felt the faint emotions that belonged to Arya within him, so faint that he could barely feel it but she was there. He continued, "Arya used her soul as a bridge between mine." He heard an intake of air from Islanzadí and she looked weak from the news. He wanted to do something but he was not sure if any actions from him would come off as offensive. "Arya is part of me Your Majesty."
Queen Islanzadí was silent as she turned away from him. They were silent no one saying a thing. Eragon wished that Arya was there so they could somehow show to Queen Islanzadí the extent of their feelings. If Islanzadí was upset at hearing them becoming mates, he wasn't sure how to describe the emotions that were raging inside the elf queen. He tried to imagine how he would feel if he had a daughter who used her soul for some boy that she claimed to love. He grudgingly admitted that he would no doubt beat that boy within an inch of his life.
"If something happens to you what will become of Arya?" asked Islanzadí her voice sounding far off and strained.
Eragon paused. He'd thought of that. If he died, would Arya remain unharmed? He had a part of her soul bound with his. If he died, that part of her died with him. The thought of it made his heart tightened. "She will not die," promised Eragon, the fact that he could say it in the ancient language surprised him for he was sure enough of her future that he could say it with the ancient words. "Nothing will become of Arya, I will protect her."
Islanzadí turned to him and the part of Arya that was within him felt a longing warmth for her mother. So this was how she felt whenever she thought of her mother thought Eragon sadly. "I am not asking for you to accept our union if your are against it," said Eragon seriously holding his ground, "But I ask that you do not let our union distance you and Arya. Please listen to my request, not as a Shadeslayer or Shur'tugal but as the man who truly loves your daughter."
He saw Islanzadí's hands clench and unclench as if she wanted to break something. She took a deep breath and turned to him. Then with great strength she spoke, her emerald eyes blazing, "Then I shall say this to the man who loves my daughter, use that sword she forged for you not to protect your life but to protect hers."
Eragon's reply was certain, "I never intended it to be any other way."
First off this was a difficult chapter to write. Because the elves are a capricious race I had a hard time trying to capture the essence of their people. There isn't much of Islanzadi for me to accurately capture her character but I'm extrapolating as best as I can. Also, there was a question about my other Eragon project that I wanted to attempt after this. I'm thinking of writing a spin-off to this story in which Eragon time travels back to the beginning of the fall of the Dragon Riders. It's been a story that I've been thinking of often and never got around to actually writing. Anyways everyone, let'see each other soon! Let's try to make this story the top for the Inheritance Section! Side Note: anyone gone to an amusement park yet? Wizarding World of Harry Potter here I come!