Chapter 17: Philosophical Meanderings.
"What did you think of him?" Oromis asked as Eragon and Saphira disappeared into the sea of trees. He turned to face his dragon, the mighty creature resplendent in the orange sunset, at that moment Glaedr, stood almost stock still gazing after the young pair with the setting sun shining off of his golden scales, looked more like a statue of melting gold than a living being.
An incredibly detailed, breathing, blinking statue that turned its head at his question admittedly 'You mean Eragon?'
Oromis smiled wryly "Who else would I mean?"
Glaedr snorted out a burst of golden flame, on purpose of course 'He is Eragon, what else am I supposed to say?' Oromis waited patiently, staring at the dragon with his knowing slanted eyes 'Crude, violent, arrogant, mocking, that is Eragon.'
The elf nodded "So different, don't you think, the man we saw today and the boy we saw back then."
On that matter the golden dragon agreed 'Indeed, but we were expecting that, were we not? The Eragon we saw was Eragon at his weakest, at his most vulnerable. Strip away the pomp and arrogance of any man, woman, elf, dwarf or even dragon and you would likely find the same.'
Oromis sucked in his lips, and let them loose with a 'pop' "I did not sense 'that' presence."
'No, neither did I. I wonder if he is even aware of it?'
"I should have asked" the elf mused.
'Yes, you should. But you didn't, so content yourself with doing it tomorrow.'
What they sensed in Eragon's mind, a being distinct from Eragon, and distinct from the demons, though all were contained in the same whole, like bubbles within a bubble. Whatever it was it was strange, it felt half like Eragon, half like a dragon, half like... something else. Glaedr had felt the minds of many dragons, and many Riders, and never once had he felt such a thing, and neither had his constant companion.
It truly stumped them.
'I felt nothing but Eragon, not even the spirits, they too have vanished to the point where they cannot be sensed without more intrusive measures' the dragon shook its giant head 'Whatever that thing was either it has faded into the obscurity in Eragon's mind, or it has disappeared entirely.'
"You could not sense the spirits?" Oromis asked sharply "Do you think he..."
'No' Glaedr's answer stopped his partner from continuing his sentence 'And if he had, we would know. Of that much I am certain.'
"We did not examine closely" the elf pointed out.
'As close as we could. Neither of us have any desire to earn the young Riders ire. Perhaps you should talk to him on the matter, he trusts you, much as it might seem otherwise.'
"I will broach the subject with him, and go into as much detail as he cares to go. But I cannot push him too far" Glaedr nodded, he knew this "We cannot lose him" Oromis looked to where the rider and dragon had faded from sight "He is too important."
The golden dragon let out a long low rumble, narrowing his large eyes and flexing his powerful jaw, revealing the sharp ivory white teeth in his gaping maw 'His loathing of our order surprised you, did it not?'
Oromis frowned "Yes" that Oromis could not deny "It did" he ran a hand over his brow, taking a long deep breath "I fear for the future my old friend" he said slowly "And yet… I am hopeful all the same. Eragon… Eragon will do what is right" he nodded. Of that much Oromis was certain. But… right for who? That he did not know "What about you, did it not surprise you?" that was unlikely, they were connected in a way that surpassed even Eragon and Saphira's connection, one could not know something and the other be completely unaware of it, and yet they were also distinct in a manner unlike their juniors.
The boundaries between Orormis and Glaedr were clear, there was a section where they overlapped, but that was it, everything else was one or the other, yet at the same time they were also aware of each other, nothing could be hidden, and neither had any reason to do such a thing.
For Eragon and Saphira, newly joined and still finding their feet, it was different, the point where they overlapped wasn't set, it was constantly shifting back and forth, like the tide rising and falling, and they likely had secrets from one another, secrets neither was inclined to indulge, even though such acts merely made the gap between them wider.
'It did and it did not. We have had similar thoughts after all, have we not?'
Oromis slowly closed his eyes and just as slowly opened the again "Indeed we have. But each time we come to the agreement..."
'...that the Riders existing is better than the Riders not, but is it even our choice anymore, Oromis, my brother from another mother, father, race and creed?'
Oromis smiled slightly at the overly long title his companion had given him, before a frown settled his features as he considered the question more properly "Perhaps, perhaps not, perhaps we have a say, if only a slight one. Whatever the case" Oromis exhaled "Eragon will do what is right" he repeated "This I know."
'What is right for whom? What is right for the world, for the Order, or for himself? These things are not synonymous my old friend.'
The elderly elf chuckled, the very question he had no answer for, was the same one Glaedr wanted an answer for "No, they are not" he agreed "Fear not though, Saphira stands by his side, she will guide him."
'You still didn't answer the question' and Glaedr knew why. He couldn't, neither could he 'It has been nigh on a century since the death of our Order, and the world has not burned itself to the ground, the world still exists, still breathes, still kills and fucks and dies... such is the way of such things. It makes one question whether our Order was even necessary.'
"It was not. The Dragon Riders were never a necessity, but neither are laws, or order, or justice. For all their flaws, for all our flaws, and rest assured I know them all well, the world was better with us."
'The only world we have to compare it to is one where Galbatorix rules, hardly a fair comparison.'
Oromis frowned, and though his mind and his opinion didn't change he looked from a different angle "The Riders were only ever an executioner's axe hanging above the masses, yet it could not stop the petty fights. Kingdoms, Confederacies, Empires and Fiefdoms went to war left and right and it was all we could do to try and contain the damage."
'But think how many we stopped from ever happening' and Glaedr did the same 'The number of wars that started under our rule, and the number that might've occurred had we not been there so smooth over relations and calm tensions.'
"We did not rule."
'Not overtly, no. But we laid down laws and forced other to obey them, is that not the actions of a ruler?'
Their argument could go on and on, each one taking a different side of the argument every other sentence, but Oromis didn't continue it.
He simply sat cross legged in the grass, and folded his arms across his chest "Things will happen as they happen" he decided, nodding in agreement with himself "We have the chance to influence a promising young man, how our influence affects him is partly up to him, and partly up to us" Oromis looked at his dragon, meeting his old friends eyes "In the end, we can only do what we can do."
Glaedr huffed at the poetic sounding rubbish his partner oft spoke 'Indeed, he shows great promise, as does the hatchling. But great does not mean good.'
"Great means only great, great good or great evil, great devastation or great salvation. Whatever he will be..."
'...we can only influence, hope to guide him down the path we wish.'
They nodded to one another, two minds as one, as it should be for Dragon and Rider.
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"Damn this thing is sharp" Eragon said, examining the razor sharp edge of the... razor "I could kill someone with this" he exclaimed.
'Eragon, you could kill someone with a stick of celery if you felt like it' Saphira commented, watching him from where she lounged in her bed.
He briefly considered it, wondering how… "Fair point" he conceded, it was perfectly possible "Still this is really fucking sharp" he gently fingered the edge, wondering just how sharp it was, and promptly split open his finger "Really fucking sharp" strikingly red blood dripped from the wounded appendage, down the gleaming silver blade and spilled onto the floor. Eragon spent a moment just watching his own blood flow before finally placing the finger into his mouth and sucking away the blood.
It had cut all the way to the bone but it was such a perfect wound, a straight cut with no jagged edges or torn flesh, it was easy to heal, though his finger did itch in the aftermath.
He took the razor, and the polished mirror with him into the room with a pool in the floor and dumped them by the edge. Already stripped naked, as he hadn't exactly slept in clothes, he began playing around with the bath, toggling the nozzles as they released steaming hot and icy cold water.
Making the water as hot as it could be, Eragon wasn't really one for half measures, he dived straight into which was a bad idea as he ended up really hurting his head on the bottom of the tub and swallowing down some of the searingly hot water.
Saphira's smug amusement filtered through their link, and Eragon, assaulted by pain from his head, his body in general, and his throat, sent her a mental finger in response.
The water burned on his skin, turning it red from the sheer heat, but Eragon himself was relaxed despite the pain thrumming through his senses. He splashed playfully, making waves much like a child playing in a river.
'You didn't sleep well last night' Saphira noted, or perhaps it was merely an innocent question?
'I slept fine' Eragon responded, letting the shifting water settle and lying down as best he could in the pool.
'Hmm?' doubt flooded into him for a second and he rolled his eyes.
'I'm fine Saphy' he reassured her 'Just been having some weird dreams, that's all.'
They were blocked to her, she wanted to know what was behind that block, wanted to know if there was some way she could help him, wanted to share it with him if nothing else, but she would respect his privacy just as he respected hers 'Alright then.'
He chuckled at her before sweeping his arm over the steaming surface of the water, creating another wave that splashed against the shore of the pool. He spent several minutes just lying there, but quickly grew bored of that so started scrubbing to get the bath over with quicker. He rubbed roughly with nothing more than his bare hands, pulling away more dirt than he cared to mention.
It was only when you washed that you realised just how dirty you were.
Squeaky clean, or cleaner at least, he emerged and let the pool drain while he examined the mirror and razor again.
"So..." Eragon frowned "How did you do this?" he ran his finger over his cheeks, finding it slightly furry to the touch.
Eragon took a moment to eye his facial hair. It had grown down past his ears and along his cheeks, and even a bit on the underside of his jaw, but had not yet reached his chin or around his mouth, and even the areas with hair were patchy. It looked rather silly to be honest.
Examining his features more closer he pulled his hair back to take a look at his ears. They hadn't changed much, heck the tapered point seemed to have faded a bit if anything, his features hadn't gotten sharper or more elven, he looked the same as he always had.
He still looked human.
Except for them, those eyes, those bloody crimson eyes that seemed to feast on pain and misfortune. He rarely had the chance to gaze into his own eyes, and water gave only a pale reflection, this mirror gave a better one. His skin was too pale as well, for all the days he had spent under the sun not once had his skin darkened to a tan, it had gotten paler if anything.
His hair had gotten longer, he noted, it would need cutting soon before it got any further than his neck, but he wasn't yet suffering from the bushy eyebrows that Garrow had. Maybe that only came later in life?
Eragon sighed and moved back from the mirror, taking in his appearance as a whole. He was no elf, or even slightly elven looking, he looked like a human though no one would mistake him for any old human, or even a human at all, if they saw his eyes. His eyes were distinctly not those of a human, not those of any mortal creature, even among immortals his eyes indicated that he was something more still.
They were the eyes of a monster.
"Well now" Eragon glanced at the razor "Let's see if I can 'not' slice my face off" he poised it to cut.
As it turned out, he couldn't.
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Oromis examined every knot, every buckle, every fray, every strip and patch of the leather saddle that had seen him and Saphira halfway across the Empire while being chased, occasionally captured on his part, sometimes knocked out on his part, and once in a while he did some bad ass things as well, like kill two Urgals with the magic he didn't know he had... and that was about it.
Eragon's track record was not good, as a matter of fact being a Shade had only improved upon him. Before he was kind of clueless and everyone knew it, now he was still utterly clueless but he didn't care and no one realised he was clueless, everyone thought he had a plan, a strategy or something along those lines, but no.
And he was the last hope of salvation for so many people in the world… yeah.
"Brom always was skilled with his hands" Oromis mused "This is good work, considering it was done on the road with stolen leather" Eragon grinned at the reminder of his sins "It is not the best, and I have certainly seen better, but then this was not made by master craftsman in the heart of Vroengard, it wasn't even made with the proper tools. Passable."
"I'm sure the old bastard would be pleased at that..."
Oromis chuckled "Yes, I'm sure he would..."
They shared a smile and said in unison "...not."
Eragon sighed "I miss Brom."
"We always miss those we love when they are gone, whether far away or into the beyond. It is a pain all beings feel" Oromis consoled him.
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Eragon asked snidely.
"No. Your pain is your own. Everyone else's pain is everyone else's. You cannot feel it so the amount you care is greatly lessened, the amount you can care even, rather than simply the amount you do" Oromis rubbed at his him "Hmm... an interesting thought, worth further consideration."
"The prospect of me sticking my sword in your skull is worth further consideration" Eragon muttered.
"Anyway, I did not call you here to discuss empathy" Oromis continued as if he hadn't heard. He had, he just ignored it "Appealing as such a debate might be." m
Eragon rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath "To you maybe."
"This saddle is suitable when you must travel with great speed, when comfort is no issue you can afford to care about. When comfort is allowed however…" he wandered into his hut a moment.
"He's really just going to start a sentence, leave it, go inside, and then finish it when he comes out?" Eragon glanced at Glaedr, the only one who might understand "Why? Correction, what the fuck is the point?"
'What is the point of anything little Rider?'
"NO!" Eragon snapped "Don't you dare get philosophical on me, I hate philosophy, its bullshit" he paused a moment "Also, the point of anything is for me to be awesome and bask in the praise of a thousand nations, I'm honestly surprised you didn't know that."
'I will bear it in mind in the future' Glaedr said amused.
"…use this" Oromis finally emerge with a saddle, not unlike a horse's saddle but clearly made for a dragon. Moulded into its shape and with gilt patterns decorating the seat and leg pieces "It was crafted in Vroengard and imbued with many spells" he dropped it into Eragon's arms" In times of need it will never fail you."
"Grrrreat" Eragon said, scratching the back of his neck while holding up the saddle in one arm. He wasn't showing off or anything, but Oromis had looked like he was struggling just a little with both arms. Totally not showing off. The saddle was a fine piece of work, if he did say so himself, him being completed uneducated in the art of what makes a good saddle and what doesn't.
It was generally similar to Brom's, with a row of buckles to immobilize his legs, but unlike Brom's it had a deep seat which, based purely on the look of it, could make flying much more comfortable, whether he was sitting upright and lying flat. The straps that would encircle Saphira's chest had slips and knots, allowing them to be extended to accommodate growth, or weight gain, yet the straps didn't look messy or over the top, she wouldn't be tangled up in a thousand strips of leather.
A series of broad straps on either side of the saddle caught his attention and he gazed at them a while trying to puzzle them.
'They are there to secure your wrists' Glaedr told him, getting bored with the young Rider's lengthy scrutiny of the saddle 'So that your arms are not swung about wildly when Saphira performs a complex manoeuvre.'
"Oooohhhhhhh! That makes sense."
'Do not be afraid to ask questions little Rider, there are no stupid questions.'
Eragon looked at him with wide red eyes "Why are you all pwetty gold cowoured?" he asked in the best childish voice he could manage.
'Shut up.'
The red eyed Rider grinned, he won.
"For now let us relieve Saphira of her saddle" he looked at and addressed Saphira "You will go with Glaedr today" Saphira responded affirmatively, and then he turned to Eragon "We will work here."
Eragon nodded and they quickly removed the saddle from her back, freeing her from the straps. Saphira stretched as far as she could, letting her wings extended fully, it was obvious she was showing off, but in fairness she did have a body worthy showing.
Glaedr kicked off from the ground, his massive, heavy bulk rising and flying with an elegance one wouldn't expect from such a large creature. Saphira was fast on his tail, not even sparing Eragon a glance or a farewell.
"Well fuck you too" Eragon said to her silhouette.
When he turned to face the elf the older man was smiling at him, whether it was because of his statement or something else Eragon didn't know, and he actually didn't really care either "Shall we?" the elf gestured then led Eragon to a square of dirt at the far side of the clearly in which Oromis's hut dwelled.
The shade of a willow tree guarded the square from the sun, and the square itself was hard packed dirt of a solidity that could only be gained from many years of consistent use.
They stood opposed to one another before Oromis spoke again "What I am about to show you is called the Rimgar, or Dance of Snake and Crane. It is a series of poses that we, the elves, developed to prepare our warriors for battle, although all elves now use it to maintain good health and fitness. This is a practise the Rider's adopted and maintained. The Rimgar consists of four levels, each more difficult than the last. We shall start with the first."
"Always a good place to start" Eragon mumbled.
"Now, place your feet together and your arms at your sides" he did as he was instructed and Oromis mirrored the movements, or did Oromis move and he mirrored? He wasn't sure, maybe they both moved at the same time, therefore they both mirrored each other, or maybe this entire situation had nothing to do with mirrors "Look straight ahead" which just so happened to be the bridge of Oromis's nose "Now take a deep breath and lift your arms over your head so that your palms meet" once again they did the action together "Yes, like that. Exhale" Oromis already had but Eragon supposed that following the breathing pattern while instructing him would be difficult "and bend down as far as you can, put your palms on the ground and take another breath… and jump back. Good."
Eragon was finding this series of exercises rather strange, but at the same time he wouldn't question his senior, not yet anyway. He did, despite what some, cough-Saphira-cough, might think, have some patience for the ramblings of fools and old men. Some.
"Breath in and bend up, looking towards the sky…"
The instruction continued, in a similar manner, with postures and actions and the consistent breathing Oromis expected. It felt like a test, it felt like yesterday's tests extended and with more flexibility required, at times his muscles would whine at the way he was making them bend, but in the end Eragon won out even over his body and performed each action as best he could without actually tearing his muscles.
It was almost enough to make him jealous of the elf's nimbleness, he performed all the exercises but never grunted or grimaced in mild discomfort, indeed none of the stances seemed to even test his flexibility. He could perform them all with less exertion than he might display walking through a meadow of blossoming flowers.
He could even touch his forehead to his toes, and despite his comment "I can do that too, just let me cut off my toes real quick" Eragon was genuinely impressed, and even jealous. He didn't like losing to anyone, except maybe Saphira.
"Come, let us wash the sweat from our limbs" the elf said as they finished, or at least Eragon guessed they finished, they had stopped so he supposed that they were finished, but also finished for now as he said there were four levels and Eragon assumed they hadn't gotten past the first.
Oromis led the way to the stream by the house. Eragon watched the elf as he disrobed, curious. The old elf's body was very thin, but with perfectly defined muscles. But the oddest thing that struck Eragon was the lack of hair, there was none on his chest or legs, under his arms, or even around his groin. His body was strange, perfect in almost every way and perhaps that was what made it so strange, it was perfect and little, nigh on nothing, in the world was perfect.
Oromis did not respond to, or even acknowledge Eragon's observation, merely washed himself clean.
When they were done the elf led him into the wood and they walked for a rather long time, until it was dark save for the specs of light that broke through the canopy, until their feet sank up to their ankles in moss, until it was almost silent, until his very breathes felt like they were disrupting the serenity of this place.
"Sit" Oromis said, pointing at a white stump with a flat polished top, located in the centre of the hollow.
Eragon considered if a moment, considering sitting right where he was, then decided to not be a dick and did what his mentor instructed "Cross your legs and close your eyes" he rolled them first, then obeyed. His ears twitched as he heard the sound of movement, Oromis was circling the stump almost silently, but not entirely "Open your mind Eragon" he whispered, loud enough to be heard but only just "Open your mind and listen, listen to the world around you, to the thoughts of every being in this glade, from the ants in the trees to the worms in the ground. Listen until you can hear them all and understand their purpose and nature. Listen, and when you hear no more, come tell me what you have learned."
Moments passed, and Eragon tried to do as he was told. He loosed the barriers around his mind, and reached out with his consciousness trying not to find something specific but to see it all, as that's what he gathered Oromis was trying to get him to do.
"Eragon…"
His eyes shot open but the glade was empty, and there was no sound, no wind, not even chirping birds. He swallowed back spit, and relaxed again, extending his minds reach as before. The glade was alive with life, like stars in the night sky they stood out against a black void, but slowly even the black void faded as he went deeper and found life even where one might think there was none. The moss, the trees, the insects, even in the dirt itself there was life of a sort.
He hissed in pain and pulled back into himself, rubbing his head, a stabbing pain drawing him back and destroying the serenity of the moment.
Sighing to himself he got up off of the stump and laid down in the moss surrounding it, it made for a comfy place to lie. He was tired, he realised. He hadn't been sleeping well and though he'd tried to play off in front of Saphira, it was affecting him. Staring up at the canopy, light visible through the leaves though little filtered down to the forest floor, he truly felt that tiredness in it fullness.
"Eragon…"
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His hands were folded behind his back, he stood on balcony made of black stone, his sword resting against the short wall that surrounded three sides of the outcrop. His eyes surveyed the land, his land. A deep thick forest, a massive desert, a great lake, rolling planes and further back a mountain range, all were on display before him from his perch.
Also visible from this vantage point was a sight that would make many shiver in fear, a deep gorge in the earth, a black canyon where at the bottom red hot magma boiled and churned. It split the land, reaching from the mountain range almost to the walls of his castle, it stopped but a few metres shy of the outermost wall.
He turned his back and found himself nose to nose with Legion, he held the other beings gaze a moment, blinked once, then looked back to his kingdom.
"It's getting closer" Legion commented, taunting him.
"Hmm" he didn't know, he hadn't ever seen it before. Had he? Maybe he had, but it felt like he hadn't, and yet it also felt like he had.
"Soon it'll split even this castle apart" Legion whispered into his ear "And you can't stop it."
"Can't I?"
Legion moved away walking back through the archways that led into a grand hall with many staircases leading off into many darkened room. Eragon watched him stalk away, turning back to the landscape before Legion was fully out of sight.
Where was here? Why was he here? What was he supposed to do?
He turned on his heel and headed to the throne room. He had no idea where that was, but his feet led the way and he was there in but a few moments. He sat on his throne, resting his sword against his leg, and relaxed.
The questions whirling around his mind slowly slipped away and his mind calmed. This seat was calming to him.
He closed his eyes.
"…Your only safety lies in that room, Yet linger too long and it shall be your tomb…"
And they snapped open and all the questions burst back into his mind, along with half a dozen thousand more.
"That room… this room?" he looked around "This castle? This… world? My tomb… but why?" there were no threats here, not even Legion was a threat here. This was his castle, HIS, it belonged to him, no one could challenge him here, nothing could threaten him, he was in complete control here. But how did he know any of that? Wasn't this… just a dream?
He sighed and gazed up at the ceiling and the monster that was engraved there in rubies.
"What am I even doing here?"
Leaning against the back of the throne, Legion smirked.
Buzz buzz, buzz buzz, buzz buzz, buzz buzz, buzz... BUZZZZZZZZZZZZ.
Buzzles.
