Chapter 19: A Seriously Long Day.
Saphira watched him sleep for a long time, not sleeping herself just to continue her vigil.
He was, for the most part, still. Occasionally possessed of fits of movement, where his eyes would shift frantically beneath their lids, his hands and legs would jerk and his fingers would move constantly, clenching the blankets tightly, coming close to tearing them, while his toes curled and feet kicked.
But it was his mind, the touch of his thoughts against her that interested her the most, or rather the lack of his thoughts.
It had happened a few times, sometimes she barely noticed it, too focused on sleeping herself, other times she just hadn't had the time or ability to focus on it at that moment. Right now though, awake and alert and attentive as she was, she could focus on it. It was like he had folded in on himself, like he was peering inwards so far that she had lost him inside the confines of his own mind.
His mind was open, in a sense, she could stroll in and speak to him without issue, she wasn't locked out. But he wasn't there, if she spoke she had no clue if he would hear or not. His emotions weren't hidden either, but they too weren't really there either, they were calm, suppressed even, noted but not really felt with any intensity, so unlike her Rider who was not noted for his calm persona.
He was somewhere deeper in the confines of his own head, deeper than she could reach. There were no walls per se, merely a limit to how deep she could penetrate. It was somewhat akin to diving, she had to surface for air or else she would die, only it wasn't likely to be death here, in fact Saphira had no clue just what would occur if she went past her limits into his mind.
Maybe she would just return to the surface, maybe she would be lost forever, drifting in the ocean of his mind until such a time as he fished her out, maybe she would cease to exist becoming merely a facet of Eragon. Maybe nothing would happen at all, maybe she could dive as deep as she wanted and had no need for air.
She wasn't keen on testing this however.
His emotions shifted like a turbulent sea, almost violently, as a thunderclap sounded outside, and she felt sentience return to his mind. Saphira turned to acknowledge the storm building outside as his Rider's usual flurry of emotion rolled over her, calming her far more than his calm facade.
"Has it been like this long?" he said, and she felt the gentle touch of his mind saying the words along with his voice.
"No, it started a short while ago" Eragon nodded in response, watching as his blankets were whipped by the wind and rain splashed on the wood through Saphira's door, carried by the gale.
"Hmm" he sat a moment watching it, before finally getting up and moving to pull across the membrane to keep the room dry and still. Saphira eyed his back as he did so, the scar that marred him shifting in tandem with his muscles as he pulled the membrane closed "Should do the same in the study" he said offhandedly, heading over to it.
Saphira watched lazily as he walked to it, keeping a quiet eye on him from inside his own head as he closed the study as well.
He returned shortly after and laid back on the bed, his legs hanging off of the edge and his eyes staring at the ceiling above him, not really seeing it.
'Eragon?' she quired.
"Hmmm?" he asked.
Saphira wondered, wondered what she was going to say, wondered if she was going to ask anything, if she just wanted to know what he was thinking, or if she wanted to know that he was still here, or wanted to ask something else, something more personal, something hidden even from her.
She asked nothing however, merely dismissed her own question, Eragon shrugged, as best he could on his back, and returned to his previous task.
Nothing whatsoever.
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Eragon was awake early, or maybe he had never gotten back to sleep. He wasn't too sure himself, periods of time blanked out in his mind but he remembered spending a long time just lying on his bed, and then at some point the sun had peaked up, its rays penetrating the membrane.
Had that woken him? Or merely served as a prompt to begin his day.
Either way he had risen, undone the membrane revealing a forest seemingly untouched by the storm that had torn through earlier in the night. Then he had gone to the wash closet, let a pleasantly warm mix of water enter the recess, and spent over an hour just lounging in the water, until 'pleasantly warm' had turned to 'lukewarm' and finally the 'cool'.
Not that he really noticed this transformation in temperature, he only noticed the coolness when he was snapped to alertness by a presence touching his mind. It was a presence he was unfamiliar with, and, without any real conscious thought, he struck back, mind like a viciously barbed lance.
The presence recoiled, and something came to support the presence, that 'something' was more familiar, or reminiscent at least, and Eragon realised just who had touched his mind. And there was the briefest hint of… shame… apology… something like that. It was gone pretty quickly though.
'I am glad you are so ready to respond to an attack, but it was quite unnecessary, especially here Eragon' Oromis told him, struggling to hide his pain from Eragon's unreserved assault.
'Yeah, well…' was all the response Eragon had.
'I merely wished to request that you bring your swords today' Oromis said, before withdrawing from the contact.
Eragon murmured his assent, even though the elderly elf couldn't hear him.
'That was a bit…' Saphira started, then stopped. The force he had used was unreasonable, assuming Eragon knew whom he was attacking, he didn't, so therefore it was far more reasonable, if not entirely so.
Eragon stood, his body dripping as he left the washroom and entered into his chambers, Saphira had given up on her sentence and was watching his movements and he gathered together some clothing and located his swords. He was still wet, and briefly wondered what to do about.
"What word would dry me?" he asked "I was thinking Brisingr, to like instantly boil the water, but that might hurt…"
'Well, don't use that.'
"Thanks, very helpful" he considered it for a long moment, before deciding on a sentence that was roughly "Remove the water from the exterior of my body" it was a lot more janky than that, a literal translation would be more like "Water rise body outer", so it wasn't the most eloquent of spells, but it worked, and the water that had been dripping down his hair and body was pulled off. He tossed it out Saphira's door with another word, then got dressed.
'I wonder why he wished you to bring your swords?' Saphira wondered as he dressed.
"I wonder why he thought I'd leave the behind" Eragon quipped.
'Perhaps he means to test your skill at arms?' she ignored him, or rather did not acknowledge his statement as it did not require any acknowledgement 'I wonder if he knows just what he's getting himself into.'
"Well, he's an old elf, so probably not."
'True.'
In reality Eragon was… eager, to test himself against the elf. Last time he fought an elf, Arya, he had been matched. Mayhaps he had been stronger, maybe even faster, but she had skill and experience that he had lacked. But after absorbing Durza's spirits into himself he knew he had become stronger, his mind was more powerful and easier to control, and his body was faster, stronger, and more durable.
And Oromis was a Dragon Rider, besides Galbatorix, who Eragon doubted would even be considered a true member, Oromis was the last of the former order of Dragon Riders, and he wanted to prove himself their better.
Perhaps more than that he wanted a challenge, perhaps it wasn't just proving himself their superior, but testing himself, challenging someone who could be perceived as his better was half the fun and possibly all of the point.
Eragon frowned as he thought about it, then stopped. There was no point, he thoughts often ran in a circle, and there was little point chasing it. He wanted to fight Oromis, that was all that truly mattered.
As they flew, the storm's damage became apparent, while at first Eragon believed nothing had occurred, further from the elven city, distanced from their magic and wards, numerous trees had fallen prey to the gale.
'Yesterday, Glaedr sought to test me on your knowledge, right?' he queried.
'Yes, I believe so.'
'Then slow down a little, and I'll tell you what I learned, and you'll tell me what you learned' Eragon supposed he should try to act the good student, occasionally. Also his rudeness to the elder dragon, who held far more of his respect than the elder rider, bothered him a tad, and so he sought to correct it in a way that would not involve damaging his own pride.
This was the perfect way to deal with it.
When they landed Oromis and Glaedr were waiting, and quickly began quizzing them on the other information. There was a slight… roughness to Glaedr's questions, clearly the dragon's pride matched his own, but Eragon persevered, taking no offense, especially as little if any was given, and answered all questions correctly.
He didn't even have to subtly ask Saphira about it.
"Well done" Oromis told them once they were done.
'In future we expect you to maintain a link between the two of you during lessons, you may close your minds later if you care about your 'privacy' so much. But during our lessons you have no such thing' Glaedr told them sternly.
'Yes ebrithil' Saphira said.
Eragon nodded "I guess."
Glaedr snorted at Eragon's response then gestured to Saphira 'Come' he declared, then took off into the sky.
Oromis offered him a smile once then dragons had gone "Fear not, Glaedr will forgive, or forget, in time. Not much time either."
"Hmm" Eragon murmured, not wanting to appear as if he cared. Glaedr was one of the few people who he did in fact respect, and he could count those people on his hand. Ajihad, though he was dead, Hrothgar, a bit, Oromis well, Eragon would claim only tenuous respect for the man, keyword being claim, Saphira, obviously, and Glaedr. He supposed Arya, Islanzadi, Galbatorix himself, Nasuada, and Garrow maybe, should be included, but it wasn't very high for them, nor as… prestigious, he supposed was the correct word.
That was about it.
"Did the storm not hit you out here" Eragon asked, observing the lack of damage to the hut, and the surrounding woodland.
Oromis smiled "There are wards placed around my home, maintained by Glaedr and I, to prevent any tremendous damage from occurring. Thankfully there was none, in any case. We escaped the worst of it."
With that Oromis turned on his tail and headed into his hut, Eragon began to follow after a moment, but before he could get very far the elf returned.
The elf who strode from the hut seemed like a different man from the peaceable old elf, calm and collected at all times, who held an air of wisdom and age. His hair flowed behind him like a silver mane, while an air of ferocity surrounded him, he looked almost warlike, not bloodthirsty, but more threatening than a horde of Kull.
His sword, bronze, or gold more accurately, the same gold as Glaedr's scales, was borne in one hand, the sheath left somewhere inside most like.
Eragon felt a grin take over his face, his hands trembling with excitement as his swords were drawn. He realised with a start that he hadn't drawn them for battle in a long time, and this was a worthy fight indeed.
Oromis smiled at his eagerness "Guard the edge of your blade" Oromis stated firmly, not wanting his instruction to be ignored by the eager young Rider "As your first master taught you. Then may I request you use one sword, then the other, then both. I would also like to see you wield both in your left and right hands."
Eragon nodded, struggling to contain himself as he sheathed Durza leaving only Zar'roc in hand, the scarred blade cutting circles in the air as he held it in a single hand while the other trailed down the blade, his mouth voicing words he remembered well.
Oromis moved to stand ready once he too had guarded the edge, holding his sword in both hands before him, and Eragon followed suit, matching his stance and guard to a t.
They shared a look, and the elf nodded, and the clang of blades soon followed.
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'Might I pose you a question, Saphira?' Glaedr asked as he finished up their latest topic, another one of the the various flora and fauna that were known to have positive and negative effects on Dragons, this time it was a bark that would cause extreme nausea if consumed in a sufficient quantity, useful if one needed to purge their stomach, otherwise best avoided 'Another question' he corrected.
'Of course, ebrithil.'
They were flying towards their next destination, Glaedr occasionally pointing out thing to watch for in flight, or ways of navigating, or just general information he thought useful.
'How did you come to terms with your Riders… condition?'
Saphira paused, missing a wingbeat and dropping nothing more than a metre or two, before rising again.
'May I ask why you ask?' she asked after a long moment.
Glaedr took long to answer 'I ask because, while I personally can rationalise it, I am a bystander. I did not know him well before, and I did not share his mind before either. I suspect his mind has changed vastly, and his personality, and even his views. And a sudden, sharp change in one's ideals is difficult to come to terms with for those around them. If you can understand the reasoning it is easier true. But… I suppose my question should contain an addendum, is your Rider who he was before?'
'I…' it took Saphira a long time to respond, for she hadn't thought too deeply on the subject herself, to avoid it if nothing else 'When I first encountered my Rider after his… transformation, I suppose. Not when I first… then too but…' she shook her head 'His mind was different, it felt… larger. If that's even the right term. When I first saw it he was… only just there, and there was something else, eating at the edges, it was himself, or a part of him, and I could do nothing to help him. I can't fight back against a part of Eragon himself. I tried but…'
She looped in the air, to clear her head perhaps, or to give herself time to think, then returned to his speed and level.
'Afterwards, his mind was more guarded, there were places he didn't want me to go. Places I feared to go even. But he was still my Eragon, at least I think he was. Perhaps I was so absorbed in the fact that he was alive that I ignored the fact that he had changed. And he had changed, he was more violent, less patient, more prone to anger, and had fewer qualms about killing, even desired too.'
Glaedr glided silently beside her.
Saphira shook her head 'He is still my Rider though, changed, but still mine. I…' she sought an analogy, and thought of Rhunon and forging 'Think of my Rider as a sword, if you will. I know he is not but think of him as one for a moment. The blade is shattered, broken. But then the shards are reforged into a new sword. And the new sword looks very much like the old sword, has the same name, the same everything. A little sharper maybe, a slightly different handle. Maybe it's a little tougher, a little harder to break. Is it my sword, or a different one, bearing in mind it is simply my swords shards reforged into a new one?
'I…' Glaedr mumbled 'I do not know. I dislike such… complex reasoning.'
'I do too' Saphira agreed 'But I love my Rider, whether he is the Eragon I had, or a new Eragon, he is still mine, I still love him, and he still loves me.'
'I see' Glaedr accepted that, his thoughts informing Saphira as such.
And truthfully, she was glad to no longer think on the topic, as it was one that confused her as much as it no doubt confused her master.
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He only realised some time later, sat in the clearing, that his wound had opened. Something hot trickled down his back, making him itch, and he went to wipe it away and his hand came back bloody.
It hit him then, pain, intense, sudden, like someone had stuck a dagger into his gut, only it was in his back, and all along his back. His scar hadn't hurt much, there was that time on the road… had there been others?
He didn't remember, it had been too long, heck even back at the Varden felt like years ago. Had it been years?
Even so, he was surprised at how conscious he was through this pain, because it really hurt, quite badly in fact. A lesser man would be screaming, writhing on the floor in agony, and here was he wondering at how many times this happened, and at his terrible memory.
His thoughts returned to his prior sombriety, as the pain dulled, flaring occasionally, but becoming distinctly less potent. Prior being the previous day, that girl. He wondered where she was now, she was still a child no? A babe even. He wondered if she had remained in Farthen Dur, or moved on to Surda. Had any of the Varden remained in the dwarf city? He hadn't paid enough attention to know.
He wondered if he could scry her, and whether he should. Would he see her crying, because of what he had done, and be unable to stay here, would he have to go to her and do all he could, or would he stare at the crying babe and feel nothing. He felt something now, but now she was indistinct, he was simply projecting what he had done to her onto himself, thinking of how angry he would be if someone else decided the issue for him.
His rage would know no bounds, as for hers… who knows.
Maybe she would feel nothing at all, maybe she would hate him, maybe she would accept it as her lot in life. Maybe she wouldn't even question it, not remembering a life free of the burden he had placed on her, and therefore not care.
He groaned, this was a pointless, fruitless exercise in self loathing and misery and it served no purpose, he could muse all he wanted it would change nothing, not the reality of the situation, not her feelings, nor his. Nothing would change at all.
So instead he focused on the purpose of the hour the old elf had given him and opened his mind as best he could, trying to feel all that there was to feel, in this clearing at least.
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While they ate, vegetable stew and bread which was very nice, he would have to admit, but he still prefered beef or lamb or pork in his stew, Oromis revealed a new subject he would try to teach the young Rider.
Logic.
"Uhuh" Eragon had responded through a mouth full of the stew "And that'll help me… how?"
"Can you think of no application?" Oromis queried.
Eragon just shrugged.
Oromis sighed "I wonder sometimes whether you are woefully ignorant, purposefully even, or if you are just a young man, a young human at that."
That much made the Rider grin "You know, I do love it when you insult my race elf" he responded callously "Given that you're all so preoccupied with fulfilling your own need for fulfilment to give a damn about the great world, are you so certain you can criticise?"
The elf stared at him calmly "I am, for it is true. A stereotype, perhaps, and in no way the absolute, but common nonetheless. I trained many human students, and while all my new students acted in that way to a certain extent, the humans were always the one who struggled the most to understand the need for a keen mind."
Oromis spread his palms on the table, ignoring his meal for now.
"Why do you fight?"
Eragon blinked, surprised at the the suddenness of the question. He considered it, not for very long, but for a moment or two, before answering "Reasons."
Oromis did not look amused.
"The Empire, and Galbatorix, has taken… so much from me. They've probably taken more from others, far more, but I'm more petty. They took my Uncle, they took Brom, and Galbatorix will never leave me alone while I have Saphira. That's my reason, plain and simple, revenge."
Oromis nodded calmly "So, for your personal revenge, you will cause earth shattering, devastating events to occur, with no thought as to how those events go on to effect the greater world?"
"Yes."
That made the elf close his eyes and sigh "Eragon, I sometimes wonder if I should teach you, you're selfish, arrogant, violent, and careless. Do you even see your own hypocrisy?"
Eragon frowned, a hint of anger on his face.
"You criticise we elves for not caring, for remaining secluded, only caring about satisfying our own need for satisfaction, and its true. We do not want for food, nor water, nor shelter, such is our power. And we could use this power to aid the starving, and the homeless in this world. But we don't, even when we had the ability to travel freely to the places where our aid would be most felt, we didn't. And yet, you do not care about what your actions will do to the world. You do not care, so how can you criticise us?"
"Easily" Eragon muttered.
Oromis just smiled somberly "I look at you, and I see the future, of my order, of Alagaesia most certainly but… What would you do if I were to come to believe that Galbatorix presented a better future for the world than you?"
"I'm not offering a future" Eragon murmured, thinking "I'm just here to kill the King" Oromis waited patiently, knowing a truer answer was coming "I'd… punch you" Eragon shrugged, scratching the back of his head in confusion, not sure himself "Just to check you weren't possessed… or crazy or something" the elf nodded "And then… I… I'm not sure. It would depend."
"On?"
Again Eragon struggled to answer "On… Saphira. And Glaedr, and their opinion. And how strong my opinion was. And… other stuff."
"Of course, but say you were swayed by my opinion, I presented a strong argument, or had many supporters, what then?"
Eragon circled around a knot in the wood of the table, perfectly smooth so his finger literally glided on the surface "I'm not sure. I can say that I'd try to change. Take a good hard look at how I had become. But… would I? I don't know. I'm not in that situation so I don't know. But…" he cut off the elf before the older man could get a word out "My best guess is, I'd let Saphira take control. Stop acting and let her do the work and make the choices, use her morals and reasoning instead of mine. If our reasoning is in sync, then you couldn't change mine."
Finally Oromis nodded "I see" he smiled, pondering the young man before him a moment "If one were to judge the surface of you, Eragon, they would find little to nothing redeemable. Look deeper though…" his smile widened "Still, I would like you to try to learn what I try to teach, now argue me this. Why fight Galbatorix?"
Eragon rolled his eyes and nodded "Well then present your argument, why not?"
Oromis smiled again, he was beginning to enjoy this, debating was a passion he held, shared by many elves, though few would dare take this side in this argument, and the budding argument was… fun, he decided after a moment, fun was indeed the correct word.
"Though Galbatorix is cruel, and people suffer under his rule, the turbulence, loss of life and commerce and food that would occur in a war is far more than the suffering Galbatorix can readily inflict. And he wants an Empire, it is sustainable, he has ensured it, more than half of it may starve while but a small percent grows fat off of the suffering of the common folk, but it is not a bad life under his rule. Finally it represents stability, right now power is balanced, Galbatorix, and the Varden and Surda, the Dwarven Kingdoms and the Elven Realms. He will not take on any for all may respond. We are in a deadlock, a stalemate, and that is good because otherwise there would be chaos and war."
Eragon considered the argument, half of him wanted to say 'fuck it, who cares' but the other half, the half who wasn't an arsehole, thought about the argument, point by point "Galbatorix has inflicted a lot of suffering in his reign, slavery, far too high taxes for the poor and needy, giving him the chance to inflict more, to continue to hold power, bearing in mind that he won't die naturally, he's an immortal, with all of that taken into account, the amount of suffering Galbatorix can readily inflict, the amount he has, even if those don't equal the amount a war will cause, the amount he can far supersedes that. Also the balance will not remain forever, it will remain until the King can raise a new army of Riders, and he still has two eggs, that is potentially two more Riders to extend the reaches of his Kingdom. The deadlock will eventually end, and it'd be better to end it on our terms, when we have strength, than on his terms when his forces are fully marshalled and ready."
"But" Oromis started, only after he was sure Eragon had ended "Who is to say the next ruler will not be equally unfair, by choice or necessity. Who can say the next ruler will not cause all the suffering Galbatorix would have inflicted, worse even. Your argument is based on presumptions."
"Your argument is based on stagnation and hope that will ultimately not come to fruition" Eragon shot back.
That made Oromis pause "True. The balance cannot be maintained, but do we have a right to fight an enemy purely because they may get stronger than us?"
"There's a reason you haven't marched on him yet" Eragon reminded the elf "A reason all you super powered elves with your magic and muscles don't just waltz into his land and slaughter him and his soldiers. Something about him has you scared."
The elf blinked, he honestly had not expected such as assertion "True" Oromis agreed far more quietly, and less animatedly "Well shall discuss this another time" he said, seeing Eragon's interest in the topic suddenly peak "Do not ask me when, for I do not know."
Eragon nodded "So… did I argue you down?"
"Yes, you did, well done. But I was arguing a rather indefensible position, there is nary a single elf who would argue that going to war with Galbatorix is not inevitable. Next let us consider a harder matter, what should become of Surda in a post Galbatorix world?"
Eragon frowned "What do you mean?"
"Should Surda remain an independent nation if Galbatorix should fall and a new monarch be raised? For that matter should the Dwarves and the Elves, the Urgals if they survive, should they be allowed to maintain their independence?"
"Won't… Surda just become part of… whatever Kingdom rises? As the others, I dunno, that's their matters."
"But Surda has been an independent nation since the formation of the Empire, what if they do not wish to become a part of a grander kingdom, should they simply be forced into a situation whereby they must join the Empire? As to the others, it is not purely their matter. And many wars come about simply because of the divides of race and nation, far more than occur due to ideological difference."
Rubbing his head the younger Rider wondered just what he had gotten himself into.
Oromis meanwhile smiled.
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Oromis watched him work halfway between a frown and a smile.
Eragon murmured more than was necessary, not even muttering words of the ancient language just random statements. He shifted more than Oromis liked, and doodled far more than was necessary, i.e. at all. And the elderly elf did not count drawing small figures in crowns with their heads on the floor as fitting for a lesson on language, though it did present him with a good visual cue to explain the term the elves used for their monarchs, and the honorifics placed at the end of names more generally, and also to teach Eragon not only the word, but how to write behead, which was simply the words "deny" and "head" said without a differentiating pause between them.
But at the same time, Eragon… learned surprising well. It didn't take him long to memorize words, his writing was a bit rough, but certainly better than he expected from such an amateur, though Eragon did have a nigh on perfect example from which to copy, it was still worth noting.
As he saw the boy begin drawing a dragon on the latest piece of paper he had been given Oromis decided it was time to end the lesson "We will continue this tomorrow" Oromis said, getting a disinterested nod from the boy as he continued his work on his drawing, now drawing amateurish flames coming from the poorly drawn dragon's mouth.
For all the boys inattention and snarky interjections, they had made good progress, better than he would've expected to be perfectly honest.
He moved over the scroll, stored in their slots on his wall. Some where his own, some came from the Riders, what little he had been able to save, others he had prepared specifically for this purpose, writing them to pass down to the next Rider he would train, likely the last, Oromis thought mournfully, before pushing such thoughts away, and selecting the ones he thought necessary.
"Here" he placed them on the table carefully, so that they would not roll away, or worse become stained with the ink from Eragon's writings, sometimes very accurate work and sometimes more doodles than work "These are in your tongue" he placed his hand on three, ensuring Eragon at least glanced at them before moving on "These two are in the ancient language. They will help you master both alphabets, or so I hope, as well as give you valuable information that would be tedious for me to vocalise."
Eragon blinked, pausing in his work, adding numerous soldiers to his drawing to be burned alive by the dragon "Vocaloid?"
"Vocalise, to express in words" he turned and grabbed another scroll, not even needing to look really, doing so only as a courtesy, and grabbing a dictionary that he had written, using much of a prior work, not his own, with a few adjustments where he felt necessary and adding several entirely new words, as well as new uses.
"This is a dictionary. I doubt you will have the endurance to read it in its entirely, but try."
Eragon nodded again, and again turned back to his drawing.
Oromis almost smiled, he was like a child sometimes, like an inhuman monsters at time, like a fearsome being that even Oromis felt cautious around at others, it was… amusing, but also worrying how swiftly Eragon's reactions changed. Perhaps indicative of an illness of the mind? He would have to look into this, but given just what Eragon was, he wasn't sure any standard texts would be able to provide him with credible information for this case.
"This is me, telling you our lesson is over Eragon" he told the boy, not unkindly.
"Really?" Eragon actually stopped his work for a minute, blinking at the older elf.
Oromis gave a strained smile and nodded, was his lesson so tiresome? It surely did not require such a shocked exclamation.
Eragon shrugged as he finished off his drawing and then stood "I figured there was more" he said, standing and stopping right in front of the elf.
The confrontational position they had assumed with Eragon's assumed position was not lost on Oromis, but he responded quite calmly "Did you? And what, pray tell, have I missed from my curriculum that you feel you so desperately need to learn?"
"Don't play coy with me" it honestly surprised the elf how little anger there was in his statement, Eragon was calm, or hiding his anger very, very well.
"Eragon, tell me what I have missed, and I will consider teaching you what I feel appropriate."
The young Rider scowled "Magic, we haven't even touched magic" Oromis felt himself begin to shake his head, but held it back "I don't need any of this other crap. I don't need to learn how to think, or how to write, I need to learn what I need to learn to kill the King."
He had known this was coming, truthfully. Eragon already knew of magic, unlike many of the students he had previously had, it was only a matter of time before he demanded instruction, and though Oromis had no desire to teach him anything at this point, for truthfully all he was teaching would add to the boys mastery of the gramarye, he could at least use this instance to test the boys current level of competence.
"Very well" he ignored the boy's surprise and muttered 'Really?' and headed outside, knowing that he would soon be followed, he stared over the cliffs, asking to the man behind him "What is magic?"
"No clue" Eragon told him frankly, walking past to the cliff's edge and crouching down to stare down below "I say words, shit happens" the elf rubbed his brow, that was not the most eloquent description "It draws on my strength, physical I mean, so clearly it's about… controlling energy… with words… it's kinda dumb."
"Not inaccurate, but not entirely precise either" Oromis told him, not moving "And indeed many spellcasters do not come to understand more than that simplest explanation 'Magic is the art of manipulating energy with the ancient language'" he frowned, how best to explain something that even he could not claim to entirely understand "There is more to magic than simple words and power, it is the practise… the art even, of thinking. As you know, a limited vocabulary is no true limit, the simplest connection can allow a single word to become immensely complex in its practise, while all the words in the world can still bind you to a path with no room for maneuver."
Eragon remained where he was too, his eyes over the cliff edge, an edge to which he was almost dangerously close.
"Brom skipped the typical regime, ignoring subtly to given you the skills you needed to remain alive in the hostile world you found yourself in. I too cannot stick wholly to the old way, and must focus on the magics of battle and war. However, while Brom taught you crude methodologies, appropriate for your situation, I will teach you far finer, but not less brutal applications, secret that were reserved for the wisest of the Riders. How to kill with no more energy than it takes to move a finger, the method by which you can transport an object instantaneously from one point to another, how you can draw energy from your surrounding and thus preserve your own strength, though at great cost, great, great cost" he shook his head "As well as far more basic, but all the more necessary, spells and methods. Spells to identify poisons in your food and drink, a variation on scrying to allow you to hear, as well as see, and how you can maximize your strength in every possible way."
He knew Eragon was enraptured by this talk of power, and that worried him, more than he cared to share. Eragon was powerful, some of what Oromis knew Eragon did not need… but to face Galbatorix, he might, and Oromis would not send him unprepared. He had been prepared for this, prepared to unleash a blight upon the land for the sake of ending Galbatorix, though he hoped, and would strive, to prevent such a thing, it was an eventuality he would accept should it come to pass.
"Some of what I will teach was not meant to be shared with novice Riders, and certainly not one so young, but circumstances conspire, and I am forced to shared them, and trust that you won't abuse them to your own ends."
Eragon stood "All of that sounds great…" and then turned to face the elder Rider "But how do I kill him?"
And that made Oromis laugh, for a long time he laugh, longer than perhaps he should, and when he finally calmed Eragon remained where he was, his expression unchanged, no anger, no surprise, not even a hint of annoyance "Eragon, if I knew how to end Galbatorix's life, I would have done so, or guided others to do so. I do not know how to defeat him, he is skilled, a fully trained Rider, and has likely gained more skill and knowledge since then, perhaps coming to match even my own. Though I suspect there are still things he quite unaware of. Now let us begin."
He raised his hand, spoke a single word, and a perfect sphere of fresh clean water rose from the dirty little stream close to his home, and none too far from them either, and moved to his hand, hovering as if held there by a force emanating from his fingertips.
"Catch" he said, plain and simply, and tossed it.
Eragon barely had a moment to react, reaching out to guard his face. The moment the sphere touched his fingers, it fell apart, splattering Eragon with water.
"Catch it with magic" Oromis said, only a little more stern.
"Adurna reisa" Eragon declared, raising an open palm, before the elf had a chance to call forth another. Oromis expected a water fight, one he would win due to his greater knowledge and skill. What he did not expected was for every drop of water within fifty feet to rise.
He stared, shocked at the display of incredible power, a thousand droplets of water, incandescent in the sunlight, casting rainbows of light over him and the younger man, rose around them, not gathering, just rising up off the ground. The brook still flowed across the spectacle, but now free from dirt and impurities it flowed clean across the sky.
It was as his mouth became noticeably dry that Oromis realised something, the water from the ground was still rising, and it was being pulled out of the plants who were shrivelling before his eyes, the trees too, the leaves first, and he himself was being drain. All water was rising, and with the language Eragon used there might not be room to let it go.
"Eragon, enough" he said, accidently letting a hint of his own panic into his voice.
Eragon closed his fist, and at that moment, as Oromis met his eyes, he realised they were glowing with power, and then the water fell, plenty falling on him, some on Eragon, most landing in the dirt where it came from.
"Do you think so little of my teachings Eragon?" he said, forcing himself calm. It wasn't that he was scared, truly it wasn't, He had been shocked, and enamoured by the display for it was beautiful and awe inspiring. But he had been worried, worried that Eragon's choice of words had left no room to let the water fall. That was something he would need to teach the boy, and given the great display of strength, and what that must've taken, now was a good time.
"Whatever do you mean?" Eragon asked, wiping water from his face.
Oromis said words, faster, he knew, than Eragon could interpret, and watched as the boys calves snapped together so that he was stood somewhat uncomfortably, he adjusted the spell quietly to ensure that the younger Rider would not fall from the cliff edge he stood so brazenly beside "Free yourself, and while you think" he emphasized that word for a reason "we shall talk, or rather I shall talk."
Eragon gazed down then back up, and shrugged.
"I understand that you may find my lessons boring, that you may think I am simply reviewing the fundamentals, but what you must understand is that I must know you grasp them fully. Too often I saw a promising individual fall to the trappings of ignoring the fundamentals, sometimes they would make it through but always lack something the others had, other times they would perish because of their lack of knowledge. Hence it is something I emphasize in my teachings."
He began pacing in front of the bound Rider.
"In your case, I realise we have little time, but you combating me at every opportunity does not aid in it passing by quickly. Once I have witnessed your firm and complete understand of the basics we shall move onto more advanced technique, for now I simply ask for your patience. I must also apologise" he confessed "I cannot claim there was no malice in our exchange, for that you have my sincere apologies, I am merely frustrated at your obstinate attitude towards my teaching, slow as they may be."
Eragon watched him impassively "You done?" he asked after a moment.
Oromis sighed, he supposed it was too much to hope his message had gotten through "Yes, I am indeed. Now have you decided on a method on which to free yourself."
.Eragon nodded, and Oromis immediately felt a spike stab into his mind.
He reeled back, armouring his mind against further assaults even as they already began battering him "Perhaps the most appropriate response" he said, trying not to let his strain show "But I would be pleased if you attempt it differently."
"Fine, spoilsport" Eragon stuck his tongue out at his elder, a rather childish response Oromis found, but not, he suspected, a genuinely angry one. Eragon looked down, considering his eyes, then looked up, considering the elf, and Oromis felt strangely like he was being sized up. Then he spoke in the ancient language "Release my calves."
Oromis released it almost immediately, the sudden release shocking the younger man and making him stumble. Truthfully he didn't know if he could win in a battle of attrition. Even after the display from earlier Eragon didn't even look winded, and such a display would likely take most of his own strength to perform.
"Not incorrect" he said calmly "But foolish. Can you tell me why?" perhaps his real question was 'Were you trying to prove a point by being stupid?' and truthfully he would prefer it if he was, because that meant he was simply being defiant.
"Erm" Eragon frowned, which rather killed his hope "I guess… I… set myself on a path?"
And with that Oromis felt a little hope blossom against in his heart, a tiny smile emerge onto his face "Exactly. One of the key things in gramarye is to never use absolutes. To never set oneself upon a path from which the only outcomes are success or death. A better phrasing would be, 'reduce the magic imprisoning my calves', wordy perhaps, but worth it if it will save your life."
"Could I not just use 'reduce'?" he queried.
"You could" Oromis admitted "But then you would need to be more focused, you could not think of aught else save releasing your calves for a stray thought could send you down a different path. Say the sun shone bright in your eyes and you wish, not matter how unconsciously, that it would dim, you magic grasps onto that and all of sudden you're trying to dim the sun. It is far less risky with reduce, true, but a misplaced spell can be just as deadly."
"Man, I didn't think about that. I might accidently say 'reduce my dick' that'd be terrible" Oromis sighed, back to the usual "Hey!" Eragon noticed his exhalation "I don't have much to spare ok!"
"I am certain no one will judge based upon… how well equipped you are, Eragon. And if it bothers you so there are methods to alter it open to you."
"Well, I dunno, if it gets much bigger I'll need a third sheath."
Oromis shook his head, one moment he was complaining it was too small, the next it was too big, he really had no idea how to deal with this boy "Back to topic" he said calmly "You need to think of spells less as simple instructions such as 'do this', and more as complex plans 'do this, until, unless, if so' and so on. But most importantly you must be able to cancel your spells at your own discretion. For instance, Brisingr" he spoke and flames appeared in his hands "Say I did not have enough magic to produce the flame, I should instead use a more complex spell. I know my limit, I know I have the strength and concentration necessary, but it is just as wise to use a complex spell such as 'raise the temperature' I have not stated a goal, there is no set point where it will cancel, it is left up to my discretion. This is important."
"Spells left to your own discretion, got it."
"Now we shall try again" Oromis reapplied the spell, and this time he knew Eragon caught a word or two by the glint in the boy's eye. He expected good things, but before it even got to that, he felt it fade. The magic faded from his grasp, it got further away, he just couldn't quite grasp it, he reached for it, desperately, partly to save face, partly because he feared what would occur if, one day, he could no longer take a hold of it.
He knew that day would one day come.
Soon the magic disappeared entirely, and Oromis slumped, almost stumbled, but a hand grasped his shoulder and held him firm.
He knew who it was, but refused to look up, refused to show weakness. In that way, he supposed he was no different from the young man stood before him. Proud to a fault. Unwilling to show weakness.
Once Oromis had met a man who was unafraid to let his weakness be known, he had thought him foolish at the time, and was all the more convinced of it when the man's weakness was used to thwart him time and again, until his almost inevitable death. But now, now he truly believed that that man was the strongest person he had even known, a fool most certainly, that was without question, but strong.
He removed himself from Eragon's grasp and stood strong, trying to maintain a guise of pride and nobility "We shall begin again tomorrow" he said, trying to keep any sign of weakness from his voice "With this, and other topics."
"Understood" Eragon said, no real emotion present in his voice.
Oromis took a moment to examine Eragon's expression, but found that he could see nothing. A blank mask covered the boys face, he could see neither pity, nor sadness, not even a disgust of Oromis's weakness in him. He could see nothing at all "I also wish for you to speak in the ancient language, or at least to endeavour to do so where it is not impossible, so that you might become better acquainted with the tongue. You need to learn as quickly as is possible."
"Understood" Eragon said again, again in that toneless voice that was so unlike the usually expressionate Rider.
"I expect this even when you talk with your dragon. When you think entirely to yourself even."
Eragon responded in the ancient language this time with a somewhat rough expression of understanding.
"Tomorrow I shall send an elf to your quarters before our allotted time. They will take you to the training grounds, where those of Ellesmera practise the arts of war, of sword, spear and bow. You shall practise for an hour, then come here."
"Understood."
He nodded, then made to leave, leaving the boy stood alone on the cliffs, the sunlight silhouetting him, save for his eyes, glistening a bright enough red to be visible even with the harsh light behind him. Oromis returned to his hut, leaving him out there alone.
It was some hours later, maybe just one, maybe few, that he stirred from his quiet reverie, drawn out but the loud roar of a dragon.
Emerging into a setting sun he found the dragons returned, Eragon was still here sat against a tree, and he felt disappointed in himself for wasting all that time in little more than self pity. He looked at the two dragons, Saphira looked rather… proud of herself, and Glaedr looked annoyed.
He knew what had happened without even needing to consult his partner, after all he had noticed it all day, the flares in Glaedr's mood, going from calm to a moment of anger back to calm, and eventually ending the day with a mildly annoyed mood. And it took a fair bit for Glaedr to get mad, with his own kind at least, so to even get him to mildly annoyed spoke of Saphira… perseverance in her actions.
Oromis sighed "Have you questioned him?" he asked his dragon, sounding tired. He noticed his weariness with surprise, wondering where it had come from.
Glaedr moved slightly, to be nearer to his Rider. A gesture Oromis appreciated but also loathed, he appreciated the concern, and the support, but loathed needing it.
'Yes' the dragon rumbled to them all 'He performed adequately.'
"Good, then Saphira, it is your turn" Saphira too had paid attention it appeared, answering most his questions, only stumbling on a few. It was enough, not quite perfect, but it would become so over time "Good, maintain this, and we will be satisfied. Improve and we will be pleased" he told them, Eragon had moved to stand closer to Saphira, but he looked strangely… distracted? Or perhaps it was simple disinterest. Either way, the young Rider was not quite there in terms of his focus.
Glaedr prodded him with a thought and Oromis nodded "Wait here but a moment, I have something for you" he said to Eragon more directly, returning moments later with the time piece he had forgotten to give him yesterday "This is a small device, whose workings I am inclined to explain at this moment, I shall direct you to an appropriate scroll should you wish. Regardless, keep it wound and it shall wake you roughly two hours before you are expected here. Do not forget you sword practise."
He nodded, and Oromis noticed Saphira looking at her Rider confusedly, she looked to Oromis for answers, but he simply shook his head, he had no answers for her. Suspicions, but those did nothing to ease his already stinging pride, and he was not inclined to share those with her.
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Eragon pondered how to broach the subject. He really wasn't in the mood for this, but he knew it was expected of him. The damnable elf would be 'disappointed' if he didn't, and god forbid elfy be disappointed.
'Saphira…' he began, already regretting it. She sensed his thoughts, and he could feel her pulling away 'You already know what I'm going to say.'
'I know, and it's none of your…'
He lightly slapped her on her neck, not in any way painful or even threatening, just chidingly 'Don't Saphira. Don't be like this, please' he could feel worry, but her annoyance was ever so slightly stronger 'Glaedr is your teacher' he said, voice becoming stern no longer begging 'If you wish to pursue a relationship with him it will come only after your education is finished. Any advances made during said education are only an annoyance, for him, for you, and for me.'
She dived harshly, then pulled up just as sharply, making sure it was uncomfortable.
Eragon was thoroughly unphased.
'Do not presume to…' she began angrily.
'Saphira' his voice was back to begging, he was really not in the mood for this, and was willing to use whatever he had to make this go as quickly as possible 'You know I'm right… please just accept it, say you'll try, and I'll leave it alone.'
She murmured something through the link, not expressing it clearly enough for him to make full sense of it. It definitely included Arya's name, as well as some choice insults directed at him, but she caved, feeling his weariness, and not just at this argument, through their link 'I… very well, I shall try to contain myself, during our educational hours at least.'
That was likely the best he was going to get, he had been nice and pleading and logical and sensible and everything, and, despite, or perhaps because of, all of that, Saphira was still annoyed with him. He just hoped that Oromis and Glaedr did not complain him about his dragon, or even worse, act disappointed in him but understanding, that was the worst.
He let out a long, tired sigh, as they swooped down towards their home in this dumb elf land.
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"You want something?" his voice greeted her before she touched the door, again.
It was strange, she mused, how quickly she adapted back to life in her home. The musical tones of her people were like music, ironically, to her ears. Hearing their language spoken so brutally, gutturally, without finesse, and lacking any kind of grace, it was practically an afront. But such were humans, dwarves too, they did not care much for elegance.
When she had first arrived at the Varden she had been shocked at just how… harsh the voices of the other beings in this world where. She had adapted, growing used to it over time, though it always struck her each time she returned to the elven lands how lyrical their voices where, and when she made her way to the Varden dwelling in the Dwarven Kingdom how roughly they spoke.
She took a moment to process this, then considered the fact that he had responded in the ancient language, and choose to address that point, for she would not be so crude as to bring up the other "There is no need to address me specially, shur'tugal" she responded in kind.
"I'm not" he told her "And come in already, it's stupid holding a… a…" he struggled for a while, eventually falling into human for a single word "conversation through a door."
It was strange, very strange, to hear it spoken by him in such a conversational way, and rather difficult to listen too truly. Instead of door he used the wood, instead of stupid he used dull, his use of language was inappropriate, but she supposed he was working with a far more limited repertoire than she, and others of her race.
She let herself in "True" she said, taking a moment to sweep them room. It was a mess, as it had been since he had arrived. His belongings strew about like he owned the place, which she supposed he did, but it was still a place that should be treated with respect, even by a Dragon Rider. The man himself was laid on his stomach, a scroll unfurled on the bed in front of him, reading while occasionally eating from his dinner platter "So, may I ask, why are you speaking our tongue?"
"Because a damnable old elf told me too."
"Ah" she pondered the thought a moment "An excellent idea, not only will it assist in your training, but it is most appropriate for you to speak such here, and will make it far easier to converse with others of my kind."
It had its benefits, great benefits, but its downsides too. For instance, it would make conversing with him somewhat difficult, for each time he spoke she would have to puzzle out his meaning from his limited word choice, and that would likely slow the conversation down a little, but given how carefully elves often chose their words, it was also not much of a disability, for they would likely take as long to respond even without needing to translate their own language.
Eragon grunted in response.
She greeted Saphira politely and as was customary for her race, and the dragon responded in kind, as best she could, being a dragon and all.
"I wished to invite the two of you to Tialdari Hall, my family's ancestral home, and its adjacent gardens. There is much beauty there, plants, flowers that only grow there, lost in all other places, save where we plant them in the hopes that the world might take them back into its fold."
"Plants?" Eragon asked, notedly disinterested.
"If you are not interested, there are of course many other places in Ellesmera to explore, for instance the…"
"It's fine" he cut over her "Never gonna get away from bleeding plants anyway" he glanced over at Saphira and she watched a silent exchange take place, it went on for a moment too, far longer than it perhaps should have, but she remained tightly restrained in the confines of her own mind, not daring to listen in "We'll go" he said finally, sitting up.
He grabbed one of his swords, the one closest to him, and the one he picked up, being the sword Rhunon had named yesterday 'Durza'.
Arya… did not like that name.
She felt Eragon's eyes on her as they headed down the stairs, remaining fixed upon her as she walked them to her home, Saphira following behind her Rider, but far more interested in the hall than Eragon, she even asked a little about its history and let Arya speak of it for all the minutes it took to reach what could, if one was crude, be described as the elven palace.
Eventually they arrived at a place she knew well, a wall of trees with an archway spanning between two of them, quite close together, forming a tall arch, that was still wide enough for Saphira's bulk, but not at all large enough for a dragon as large and mighty as Glaedr. She stopped there and spoke "Root of tree, fruit of vine, let me pass by this blood of mine."
She expected, nay anticipated, a comment from Eragon on how stupid it was to use such a pretentious phrase to open a gate, nay it would likely be an 'expletive' gate. But it didn't come, he merely looked boredly into the vast flower garden, that was arranged such that it looked as natural as glistening brook, though these eyes of hers could pick out imperfections where mind had guided construction over nature.
She loved these gardens, truly she had, in all her years of avoiding her mother, this was perhaps what she missed the most. Tialdari Hall had truly been her home, after all, that would not change.
Arya turned to Saphira, asking kindly "Please mind your tail, that it does not sweep across the beds" Saphira responded with an affirmative thought, and Arya noticed a bit more care in where she trod and a lot more control exerted over her tail as the dragon entered through the arch.
They walked into the garden and through, into a line of trees, scattered about almost randomly, but thickening and forming as you moved further, until they were walls. It was such a smooth transition that, had she not known and seen this many times before, she would wonder when she left the gardens and entered the hall.
There were a number of elves in the hall, some reading, writing, musing, and one playing pipe reeds in a dark corner, but all paused their work and inclined their heads at Saphira when they noticed her presence, which was admittedly hard to miss.
"Here is like where you would stay" she told them, mainly directed towards Eragon as it only truly applied to him "Were you not a Dragon and her Rider."
'It's is quite wonderful' Saphira said, high praise coming from one as beautiful and glorious as she, Arya was not one for the near worship, the rest of her kind lavished upon the dragons, but not even she could deny their immense beauty, glory, power, and just the magnificence of their existence.
"I am sure those who crafted it would be delighted to hear you say that" Arya said, indeed they may even encounter a few in their trip. It was not likely, per se, but nor was it impossible, though not all, some still lived.
She showed them all of the halls that she could lead Saphira too, as well as a few only Eragon could witness, with assurances from Saphira that she was quite content to look through her Rider's eyes. Her Rider was less pleased about the wandering about and looking at stuff, indeed Arya noted a distinct lack of his typical playfulness or snarkiness. He would still come off as rude to any who met him, but no longer was he baiting others, nor flirting with her. The switch was… rather off putting, she had gotten used to him as he was, and seeing him so quite so… distracted? Or just disinterested… it was unusual if nothing else.
He had been like this when they last met too, though only later, when the novelty of her company waned, she supposed, or so Saphira had indicated.
She noticed her mother at one point, though the elven monarch did not approach or acknowledge them, beyond paying her respects to Saphira, of course. Truthfully she was glad, she did not think her mother and Eragon got on very well, and given the look she had only just caught her mother throwing at their party, and mainly at the only male member of said party, she thoughts were likely not unfounded.
Soon they returned to the gardens and she spent at least two hours just talking, about the plants that surrounded them, how they had come to be, where they had originally been found, how they had been altered, by magic and by longer cultivation over many years and decades.
Thought she spoke for both their benefit, only Saphira responded, and she never felt Eragon's eyes leave her for more than a moment. It was somewhat uncomfortable to be gazed at so, but she was used to worse and Saphira provided excellent company in her Riders stead.
"Why?" he asked suddenly, startling her and causing her to stop.
"I'm sorry?" she had spoken before she even thought, as surely she could have come up with a more eloquent response, even thought about what had been occurring to try to figure out his question instead of simply asking him to repeat it, ideally with greater detail.
"Why do they flower at night?"
Again she was almost stunned by his question, actually about plants, in fact about a plant she had just been talking about "In order to be pollinated" she responded "That is how flowers persist after all, many take on bright colours and scents during the day, but during the night… white is most appropriate, it stands out, and many night time animals lack the ability to distinguish between colour, but possess the ability to distinguish darker shades from white. So insects and mammals that feed on the pollen, and thus pollinate the flowers, can see and are attracted to those flowers."
Eragon considered the flower for a long time, even kneeling down to get a better look, long enough for Saphira to get bored.
'Do you have a favorite, Arya?' she asked, curious 'You have spoken of many fondly, but are there any you treasure above the others.'
She smiled, trying to keep the sadness from her pleasant expression "There is one, come."
Eragon followed the pair of them after a moment, and Arya wondered if he had been listening very intently to her, or simply picked up on that particular point and was curious. Maybe both? Possibly neither.
She led them to a tree on the very edge of the garden, besides a rush lined pond. On its lowest branch coiled like a snake was a flower, a morning glory, with three black blossoms like velvet, she blew on them, ever so gently, and asked more than told "Open" and so they did.
Opening up with a rustle the flowers revealed they were not pitch black all the way through, revealing shades of blue in their hundreds, starting lightest and brightest at the deepest point, the flowers throat, and fading out darker until it became black on the underside of the petals.
"These" she murmured "Are my favourite" Arya smiled at Eragon who watched them with her "Are they not the most perfect and lovely flower?"
Eragon shrugged "I like poppies."
She laughed, that was more what she expected, not quite though, and that made it all the more enjoyable. It was a response she could understand, a response she could respond too and find amusing, as opposed to bizarre, un-understandable or horrific as his responses more typically were.
His eyes were oddly cloudy as they focused again on her, and for a moment they stood facing one another and Arya was reminded of another time, and a different man.
Then Saphira pushed her way through to get a better look, the moment was gone and she took a few steps back, giving the dragon space 'They are certainly beautiful. I have not seen their like before.'
It may have simply been a statement but she took it as a question "No, you would not. They were grown here… they were grown by Faolin, on a summer solstice long ago… for me" she muttered the final part as more of a whisper, though it was one Eragon and Saphira heard, even if one acted like he didn't, the other was polite enough to not question it "I believe I have shown you all there is to show" she said "Is there anything you would like a second look of, or anything else you wish of me?"
Saphira glanced at her Rider, who glanced dispassionately back. She sighed before responding 'No, thank you for your time Arya, we shall take our leave now.'
"I shall show you to the entrance" she stated and began leading them. She took a moment, while she was passing Eragon, to look deep into his eyes. They were still half clouded over, not even looking at her, so unfocused, so unlike his eyes. It was so odd that as she led them to the entrance she had to broach the topic "Eragon, forgive me for prying, but are you quite alright?"
Eragon shrugged.
'What he means to say is…'
"I said what I mean to say" Eragon said, not snapping, but cutting Saphira of all the same. The dragon huffed, blowing smoke in Eragon's face.
He just rolled his eyes.
She accepted that, for what else could she do, for they had already arrived at the gate. She spoke the phrase to let them leave and bid them a farewell, getting a response from Saphira.
The gate slowly closed on the dragon and the Rider as they slowly walked away.
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'There were some quite beautiful flowers' Saphira commented as Eragon sat staring at a scroll unfurled. He had made no progress, just blankly stared at the same point for over an hour.
What the hell was wrong with him?
He didn't know, he felt odd, it was too calm, he was too calm. He felt tired, like he could sleep forever. And that irked him for some reason. Normally he'd have thrown it across the room if he couldn't concentrate, as clearly that was its fault. But not, he had just done nothing, just remained sitting… stagnating.
'Or were you too busy staring at Arya's behind to notice any of it.'
Eragon rolled his eyes drawing his gaze upwards to his dragon "I saw the flowers" he said "They just weren't that interesting."
'No? A lump of fat and muscle far more interesting to you?'
"As a matter of fact, yes" Eragon responded "I could go for a nice piece of meat right now, freshly grilled, with spices, perfectly salted, cooked to perfection."
'Around a campfire' she half suggested half mused.
"With our best of friends."
'Each other?'
Eragon shrugged "I was thinking more, Orik… and Murtagh… Brom too."
'That would be nice' she'd ignore the fact that he didn't mention her, for now.
"Hmm" there was a clattering, the trapdoor Saphira thought, and Eragon called out "Need a hand Orik?"
"I'm perfuctly, hic, fine."
Eragon and Saphira shared a look, before the Rider sighed and got up. Opening the door the dwarf fell through, clearly intending to use it for some support, Eragon stepped aside, letting him fall "You ok?" he asked as the dwarf struggled to get up.
"Oh, it be my dearest Brother Rider Friend" Orik said cheerfully "I had wondered where you be, so I thought to go find you, and here you be. Wherever have you been? Ah, nevermind. Come let us talk, now that we're gathered togethers in this detestable birds nest let us speak, brother of mine?"
He helped the dwarf up, pulling up to a stand, and then, seeing him swaying rather heavily, leading him into his room, guiding him past the various dangers, such as his unsheathed dagger, and those leggings, those things could trip a man to death, Eragon knew that from experience. He pushed the dwarf down on the bed, making him sit "How long have you been drinking?"
"I know not what you talk of, fair Rider" the dwarf said, rather eloquently, through hiccups and slurs aplenty.
"Uhuh" he took the bottle from the dwarf and took a sip, a rather large one. Eragon burped loudly once has done and passed it back "Good stuff."
"Aye, the elvesh are good at making drinks. It is Faelnirv, a most wonderful concoction. IT gives you the gift of loquacion, words will flow from your mouths like drinks at… any kind of celebration, for dwarves at least. Dunno about you hoomans or theshe elvesh, but we drink whenever there be cause, and sometimes when there isn't."
"Hmm."
'What has put you in this state, Orik, it is most unlike you?' Saphira queried from her cot.
"What has put me in this state, oh magnificent Dragon, o mighty Irontooth, whose schales shine bright as coals in Morgothals forge? Well I shall tell ye" Orik settled himself more comfortably, while Eragon sat himself down on the floor, stealing the bottle from Orik again and taking another sip, Orik seemed not to mind, or notice for that matter "I am here, in the lands of theshe elvesh, and… it's so boring. I drown in elves, fucking elves constantly, yesh shir, no shir, three bleedin bags full shir, yet try to get a hair more, nothing. Heck a hair less and again they give you nothin. These damn blighters and worse their bleedin courtesy, they know not how to live, live enslaved by their rules and regulations they forget to be free. So I sit and twiddle my thumbs, while you learn the arts of your order, and I slowly turn to stone like the statues of my ancestors, whom I fear I shall join long before my time is due, if I am left in this leafy… haven" 'haven' was said with such vitriol that Eragon laughed, or maybe that was the liquor, already working its magic upon him.
"True enough brother" he said taking another sip, it was only now that Orik noticed anything was amiss, and that the bottle was gone, and he looked a little lost for it, so Eragon handed it back "This place is full of wonders, but that's all. There's no one here, just phantoms who act like people, but there's still something not quite… there about them."
"Aye!" Orik roared his agreement "They're fucking… ghosts, like vapor. You try to catch them and nothing, but they're always there. It's abominable."
"So let us shpeak Eragon, Rider of Dragons, and you too of course Saphira, most loveliest Dragon that I ever did see" Saphira purred at the compliment, despite it coming from a dwarf who was incredibly drunk "Shpeak to me of your adventures, and misadventures, while I have languished away in solitude, for NONE, have come to visit me."
Eragon laughed, ignoring the jibe about ignoring the dwarf it was true after all "Oh, such adventures we have had" he nabbed the bottle back and took one of the two sips remaining, setting it down by his side. With that Eragon began talking, and, much to Saphira's noticeable surprise, he truly spoke.
He did not simply relay, or inform, he spoke, he went into what he thought, what he felt. What he didn't share with her any more.
He spoke of the child they had blessed, of his recent of himself, of his true feelings about what he had done, things she had had to pry from deep inside the iron walled fortress he had hidden all from. He spoke of Arya, and his own lack of understanding of his feelings, he spoke or Oromis, of his inability to decide his feelings for the elf.
Eragon spoke of everything he could think, and more besides.
The bottle was already empty.
"I hate this place" he said suddenly.
"Aye!" Orik practically cheered.
"It's so… boring. So still, like a painting, like a fairth… beautiful… but eternal, unchanging" Eragon moved over to Saphira's teardrop shaped door, and looked out over the woods "It's… it's stagnating, locked in the fact that it and its residents have no need to progress, to move forwards. Nothing changes here, is it summer, winter, autumn? Who knows, does it even matter? This PLACE. It…" his hands were shaking "I hate this place, I hate these fucking elves! They act so superior, so smug, like they know the answers when in truth they've just stopped asking questions."
Eragon kicked the wall, hard, hard enough to crack the wood, and his leg. But he didn't care, stomping it on the floor.
"I loathe this place, its mere existence goads me, taunts me. It's like Farthen Dur, but worse. Nothing lives there, it's quiet, but not naturally quiet, but at least stuff happens there, lives are lived, decisions are made, things are DONE. Here… here it's all pretty, there's noise, there's life, but it's all dead truly, monotonous, boring" his eyes gazed at the forest, it was reflected back red in his eyes "I want to watch it burn" he murmured, almost silently "That would bring it to life, bring some movement to this frozen part of the world."
"THAT'S ALL I WANT, LIFE! SOME DISPLAY OF ACTUAL LIFE IN THIS PIT" he shouted out of the hole "I just want to feel like I'm in a place that's alive… maybe I'm right" Eragon titled his head, behind him Orik was unsure of what was going on and just bobbed his head merrily, Saphira watched him carefully "Maybe it should all burn… maybe that would bring life… if it all" he raised an open palm "just… burned."
Eragon blinked, as sudden sharp pain reared itself in his arm. He glanced down and found his dragon's mouth biting in his arm, pulling it down.
Finally he heard her roars, words she had been speaking this whole time, but so lost in his own thoughts Eragon hadn't even heard her.
'You're drunk, Eragon, so stop, please, just stop. You just need to calm down, ok? Please?'
He saw Orik had been shoved off the bed by Saphira's tail and was currently groaning on the floor, he glanced at Saphira, her eyes desperate, he hated that look, she should never look like that, what had caused her to look like that? He'd kill it, kill it for daring to cause such a look "Ok" he murmured quietly, and Saphira let him go. He glanced out the window again, feeling himself sway in the breeze "I hate this place" he murmured, before dropping to his butt and leaning against the wall "Hate it."
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She couldn't understand, genuinely couldn't, she had no idea how he could hate a place as wondrous and beautiful as this.
It was pure, perfect, cultivated to the peak of existence. The people were kind, respectful, and lacked the fear she inspired in the other races. There was magic in the air here, and the trees smelled beautiful, with game she could spend weeks hunting, and she could nest in some of those trees, even with her immense size and bulk she could rest in the trees.
Saphira loved this place, and could not understand his hate.
So she tried to find it, she peered into his head, hazy and drunk as it was, and searched for the reason, why did he hate this place so much? Why did he hate this place that she found such wonder if… but what she found there was the last thing she hoped to ever find. She found his hate, for this place, for elves more generally, for woods more generally, and for more specifics things too. He hated Islanzadi, he hated Oromis his stupid calmness, he hated Orik and his friendliness, he hated Arya, he hated Glaedr, he hated himself so very much… and deep down, in the dark depths, she saw it, for but a moment…
He hated her too.
So, this isn't proofread, I dunno if the last one was, but this one has pretty much just been finished. Its also about two chapters in length, maybe three if they were slightly shorter chapters. But still, this is not the standard size, and sod that. I like my standard size. But unfortunately I wanted some stuff to happen in this chapter so that other stuff could happen next time. Stuff not this stuff. But still stuff has happened hasn't it?
...
It hasn't has it?
Toodles.
