Chapter 23: Images of the Past.
"Are you not sick of being here?"
The moment he realised what this was, where he was, who he was facing, Eragon felt immediate dissatisfaction with the present situation. And he wondered if his… companion, perhaps, felt the same. This was why he posed his question.
"We're always here" and Legion answered, with a somewhat infuriating answer, as he was wont to do.
"Hmm" Eragon considered the thing in front of him dispassionately. He was sat on the throne, Legion stood facing him, in the black throne room where they had had several similar confrontations, none were particularly confrontation, but this time Eragon had an issue to raise, one he wished to 'confront' Legion with, so to speak "Why?"
The gestalt being tilted its head, its crimson red hair catching what little light there was and reflecting it like the hair was painted in fresh blood. It was not thankfully, merely colour, fresh bloody hair would not be terribly good hygiene after all.
Eragon accepted that, he should have elaborated his question, it was not an adequate question from which to expect an answer, therefore he did elaborate "What you did today, the squirrel, I want to know why?"
A smile came first, then the Shade opened it mouth, and a frown replaced it as it clearly struggled to put its reasoning into words, it's mouth opened multiple times only to close, it bit its lip, poked its forehead, occasionally it would twitch almost uncontrollably, spastically even.
It occurred to Eragon as he watched the being collect its thought, or try to puzzle out its own thoughts mayhaps, that Legion did not look… well. There were no injuries, truthfully it looked very similar to how it normally did, but its face had a slightly tinge of nauseous green, it looked ill. Its hair was a mess, more so than it usually was, in fact it was usually quite elegant, stylish even, in in a rouge like way. And there were heavy bags under its madness infested eyes.
He knew the act the previous day had taken a lot out of the Shade, it had caused chaos in the unity that was Legion, and these, he supposed, were the effects.
Which brought him right back to his question, to why Legion had done what it did.
The being looked up at him, more collected now, calmer even and answered so simply Eragon would wonder how it had taken so long, if the answer didn't make thinking of anything other than the answer itself almost impossible "We wanted to see you."
His fingers twitched.
Eragon spent a long moment considering that, it wasn't the answer he had been expecting. He awaited something along the lines of 'To see if we could' or 'Because we wanted to', not something that would be strangely touching were it not from the mouth of a maniac.
"See me?" and then he started pondering his own present situation, and what exactly it meant with regards to that "Can you not see me right now?"
Legion blinked, frowning "It's not the same. We know what you look like, we know what your mind is like, but we don't know… how we would see you."
Eragon also frowned though for a different reason, Legion's reasoning now didn't matter to him, something else having caught his interest, what was this, and how did Legion see it? "What does this look like to you? Where are we? Are we anywhere? How are we? Is there even a we?" Eragon leaned forward, his brow furrowed, his face intense and inquizitive.
The confusion on Legion's face became even more pronounced, it was unused to being… spoken to like this, so quizzically, as opposed to vague insults and dismissals, but it tried to answer "We're in the heart of your mind, the fortress in its depths, the one place where you're safe" Legion answered "We are talking, so of course there is a you and a we."
"Show me."
There was more confusion, but it did not hesitate over long, immediately passing the information over, and not even trying to take over Eragon's mind while it did so. Any more than it usually did at least.
What Eragon saw… well, it was not what he saw, but it was what he suspected all the same. This was not a place, this was not real, this castle was simply a heavily armoured sector of his mind, it wasn't a second reality, perhaps it was a dream, but the fortress he was was simply the most defensible spot in his own head. With great walls built up over time, secrets buried in the dungeon, but it wasn't real, any more real than when he pictured one of Saphira's scales, when he cleared his mind of all but that, that was not real but it was there.
As for the two of them, they weren't face to face, their mind were touching gently, Eragon and the collective consciousness that was Legion, meeting in this place were Eragon held all the power.
It was strange.
But it had also certified what this was, for Eragon, this was the same as the demons and the unknown, this was his mind rationalising, and materialising as well, what it felt.
"I see" Eragon nodded, then considered Legion again "Are you satisfied?"
"With?" this was better for it Eragon sensed, Legion was more comfortable with the passive aggressive question Eragon had just asked than the genuinely intrigue of before. And there was a taunt to the Shade's answer, it knew what he was asking, but was forcing him to say it.
"With your actions, with seeing me?"
Legion smiled faintly "It was… enough."
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"Eragon" Oromis's gentle voice didn't stir him from his distraction, he was staring blindly off to one side, not really look at anything, but intensely focused even so, it was the touch to the shoulder that the preceded word that beckoned him into a more alert form of consciousness.
"Wha?"
Oromis shook his head "I thought we might abandon this topic a while, seeing as we are getting nowhere with it" Eragon glanced down at the words on the parchment, there weren't many, indeed compared to prior days there were very few indeed. He had been that distracted? Yes, he supposed he had been. It was hard to stay focused on lessons, his thoughts were a mess.
He felt Saphira gently jibe him for his inattention, before becoming attentive herself, before Glaedr called her out on her inattention. That made him smile, no matter how much of a mess his thoughts were, at least she was there.
"Instead, we could enjoy the afternoon sun" Oromis continued "And I hoped you might like to learn how to make a fairth. I find it is an excellent tool for focusing one's thoughts" he pulled a half dozen stone tablets out from one of a various cubbyholes in his abode "Come."
Eragon nodded and followed, not really caring. It wasn't terribly, useful, but a lot of what Oromis was teaching him wasn't useful per se.
As they reached outside, Eragon noticed a pair of figures off in the distance slowly making their way towards them, he could tell who they were even before he could make out the details. He doubted any other elf would lead the only dwarf in Ellesmera to Oromis's hut, they would be too concerned about unnecessarily bothering the elder Rider, or about causing some offense, so much so that they would accept the offense of denying the dwarf's request.
Stupid elves.
Oromis greeted them when they arrived, and that gave away the game, if it was even a game. If nothing else Oromis had not revealed their expected presence, so he considered it a game.
And it was quite obvious that Oromis expected their presence, he had stepped out just as the pair had come into view, he greeted them calmly and explained the topic of Eragon's education in a brief but still ample in detail description, then and only then returned to his student who stood looking at a knot at a stood, behind him.
"Now" he handed a slate over to Eragon and began his explanation "The slate is infused with ink, enough to cover it in any colour, any variety or pattern or variation of colour you wish. The slates are special, normal slates are inappropriate for the act, and attempting it with anything else will either drain more of your strength than this, or produce a impermanent or imperfect image" he gestured to the landscape around them "So find something you wish to capture, something you think… precious, or impermanent at least, and speak the words 'Let that which I see in my mind's eyes be replicated on the surface of this tablet' you must focus intently on that which you wish to capture, however, else you will produce a flawed image. Understood?"
Eragon nodded, already looking around for something, and finding nothing. Trees, trees, flowers, grass, trees. Boring shit.
He considered his companions, Oromis… nah, he'd need Glaedr here for that. Orik he considered but… he didn't want to imply that he thought his short friend was impermanent. Arya he immediately dismissed. Too many… confused thoughts there, he didn't even know what would show up on the slate, and certainly didn't want to explain it.
Her mere presence was enough of a distraction, without any other unneeded annoyances.
It took him a while, an age even, to find something, anything, he considered worth capturing, or at least something that held his interest long enough.
A fallen tree branch, covered in moss, rotten enough to crumble underneath his touch, with a boot mark already squarely set in the centre of it, this was clearly impermanent.
That was enough for him.
He spoke the words, kept the image focused in his mind, but his thoughts were a mess. And the image reflected that. Spots were rendered in razor sharp accuracy, a patch of moss that he thought looked kinda like a penis, a centipede that had crawled out midway through his spell and caught his eyes, but others were blurred, muddied, and washed together.
Even so Eragon took it back to Oromis and offered it to him, Oromis considered it for a long moment then spoke, softly "Many students I have taught this too have, at first, lacked the concentration to even create a recognisable image. This can be seen in yours" he traced a finger over some part of the image, presumably where all the colours blurred together "But when something has your focus it is rendered perfectly. Now you must extend that focus, to all of that which you wish to capture."
Eragon nodded disinterestedly, but took the tile Oromis offered him, before the elderly elf handed his first to Arya and Orik allowing them to view his work, speaking to Orik a moment about what this meant in greater detail.
He wandered off again, he hadn't gone far last time, but took a moment to walk around the hut, considered the stream for a minute, considered the dirt where he practised rimgar, considered just about everything.
But there was nothing... Eragon frowned. He had chosen what he had chosen not because he thought it was worth preserving, but because Oromis had said 'impermanent' and he had latched onto that.
Now there was nothing.
No… that wasn't entirely true.
There was something he wanted to preserve, something he didn't want to forget, something he in fact wanted to… immortalise. Not because it was worth preserving, but because he wanted it to be preserved.
At the same time was it purposeful? He had all the reminders he needed, did he need a bleeding painting too? No, but he had nothing else, it was all he could think of capture right now.
So Eragon sat down behind the hut in a shade of a great tree and cleared his mind entirely, he closed his eyes taking out his vision, he closed his mind, after sending Saphira a reassuring thought so she wouldn't panic, to remove any other distraction, and he focused on the image he wished to paint upon the slate, exactly as he remember him.
The image he produced was… flawless, or at least Eragon could see no particular flaws. Everything was in crisp clear detail, each individual hair could be made out, the pores on his skin, the eyes reflected a light that was not visible in the image, the clothes crumpled in all the right places.
It was probably as close to perfection as Eragon could get.
He laughed.
Asked to create an image he wished to preserve, finding one thing he thought worthy, and it wasn't his Uncle Garrow, it wasn't Brom, it was his home in Carvahall, it wasn't finding Saphira's egg in the Spine, it wasn't Murtagh and Tornac… it was him, the man who caused all of this, or rather enabled Eragon to cause all of this.
Durza.
His maroon eyes stared out of the image as if he could see you, he bore his sword… the newly named Durza in one hand, the mark down the length of the blade catching the light. He wore a dark red cape, confusable with black its colour so dark. Everything about him was as Eragon remembered in that one most memorable moment… save the sword. He hadn't had his sword out then, then it had been all charm, dark seduction, the sweet promise of what he craved above all else… power.
Eragon stood and grabbed the tile, returning to Oromis slowly, but as he approached he thought of other things. Things he had seen, in a sense, but not truly.
He wanted to see them, not just know what the image looked like, but see it with his own eyes.
He returned to Oromis quicker, handed over the tile and nabbed the next one, focused intently, had the image at the forefront of his mind, spoke the spell, checked the image, and then placed it down too.
Oromis was looking at him intently as he worked, grabbing a second, well actually a fourth, tile and creating another image. Then another, but that was the last, three images he wanted to see and only once he was done did he placed them all on the ground and consider them.
The first was off a cave mouth , the focus was on what was stood outside of it, a carved wooden statue, and hung over the entrance a piece of richly decorated cloth, and beside them both, tending to the statue, a woman, or at least feminine in form. But bulkier, thicker set than humans, taller than dwarves, and with curved horns, grey skin, and yellow eyes. An Urgal.
The second featured the woman again, but this time it was inside a cave, there was a fire, it was dark and smoky, but not unwelcoming, and beside the woman, sat on her lap, was a young child, confusable with a humans in appearance, though taller and thicker set, all that gave it away in the dim light was the child's yellow eyes.
Finally, the last image, was of that child again, this time fully grown, bearing arms, and stood outside in a group, right next to an Urgal of clear importance. Everything about this image screamed pride.
All of these images had come from a Kull, one whose mind he had ravaged for no more reason than… he wanted to.
While he was working Oromis had gazed upon the tile Eragon had handed him, then showed it to Arya and Orik. Neither had said a word, and Eragon hadn't bothered to consider their expressions, he was busy.
Now though the elderly elf was stood next to where Eragon knelt, and like Eragon considered the images on the ground, the second tile Eragon had handed him today still clasped in his hand as he considered the images.
"What are these?" the elf asked, not referring the images generally but pointing more specifically to the wooden statue and the decorated banner.
"This… is a totem, I think, that's not what they call it, but it fulfils a similar function. It supposed to ward off beasts, the same beasts as the totem depicts."
"And this one" Oromis said softly "It depicts a human."
"Yeah" Eragon agreed "Humans are pretty beastly" he moved on, not having anything else to say on that matter "This is a namna it's… a tapestry I guess. It depicts the history a family, feats they've performed, legends they count as blood, and so on."
Oromis nodded "And this one" he pointed to the last of the images "what is occurring here?"
"This one" he pointed to whom he could pick out as the child, but he supposed Oromis might be unable too, they did not look overtly similar "Has been placed in the chiefs warguard, it's a position of honour."
"And the perspective?"
"His father, they're all from him."
Oromis nodded again, then stood upright and considered Eragon "And, if I may ask, how did you come to acquire these memories?"
Eragon felt his lips twitch, but kept his expression neutral as possible as he looked up at the elf with a cocked eyebrow trying to play him off as confused "I ripped it from an Urgals mind in the tunnels beneath Farthen Dur" Oromis's face became stern as the words left Eragon's mouth, but the younger Rider just smiled "What? Something you want to say, Master?" he teased, knowing exactly what the elf wanted to say.
"I do not find your callousness at the destruction of another being's mind particularly tasteful" he said softly, but there was a note, almost hidden, of stern warning in his voice. That just made Eragon smile all the brighter "But I suppose you don't care do you?" he shook his head, he did not forgive, nor forget, but his words would have no effect and he knew that, so abandoned any such task and refocused on the one at hand "Regardless, you have demonstrated your capability to create a fairth based on memory, I want you to now capture reality."
Orik and Arya had remained quietly to the side while this little confrontation, if it could even be called that it was more a mildly unpleasant exchange or even just a quiet disagreement, occurred but now moved into survey his work.
Arya looked thoughtful as she viewed the images.
Orik looked confused, confused and… there was some anger as well, though it was not directed at Eragon, or so Eragon himself thought. Such emotions were understandable, the Urgals were Orik's enemy, and he had likely never stopped to consider that they were also living beings, that they had families, friends, loved ones, lives, that they were born and died in the same way as Dwarfs, and Elves and as Humans. Urgal were just monsters, having an illusion such as that cast into doubt was… doubtless unsettling.
Once, he would've thought the same as Orik did. Now he doubted any monster could compare to Eragon himself.
"These images show reality?" Orik asked after a moment.
Eragon nodded, which only made the dwarf frown more, then turned to Oromis "I want you to do something too" the elf blinked and nodded, waiting for the request "I want a picture… of Brom and Saphira."
Oromis's eyes widened, then a smile spread over his face "I see… if you can created a perfect image I shall do so, this I promise" he handed Eragon the first tile he had worked upon, now blank.
Eragon grinned.
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Saphira considered her Rider as he dressed. It wasn't morning, it was late in fact, but Eragon wasn't inclined to dress for bed, and Orik would not be arriving tonight, the dwarf only came by every other day to eat the evening meal with Eragon and teach him more of his dwarfy words, as he had done so for the past few days at Eragon's invite if she was to understand.
Eragon was becoming quite adept at cursing in dwarven.
Arya was also not expected, she had stated recently she would only be able to come by once every few days, and she had been here yesterday and shown him and Orik, who had also been there, something in Ellesmera. Saphira hadn't bothered, just using Eragon to see, and her opinion was likely tainted by his boredom, hence why she only remembered it as 'something'.
The elf was more distant recently, her visits gradually lessening and when she did arrive she seemed… distracted. Perhaps her Rider had done something to anger the elf, and neither he nor she knew what it was, or maybe her duties in Ellesmera kept her busy, whatever duties they may be.
She was the elven princess after all.
Her Rider's studies were progressing well, according to both Oromis and Glaedr, their elven teacher even praised his zeal and desire to learn.
The truth was Eragon was just bored, he spent his days mastering magic, the ancient language, and other things that Oromis wished him to learn, not because he was interested, but because he was bored and needed something to interest him, and education served to do so… a little at least.
It had been less than a week since her and her Rider had reconciled, and since then she had striven not to hide any of her feelings from him, she still hid things from him, just not how she felt.
There had been just one argument since then, and Oromis was not pleased at having to come to Eragon's home again to get heal the blackened wood of the tree where she had tried to torch her Rider.
She had looked sheepish at the time, if nothing else.
And he had deserved it! Even he agreed so, after the fact.
So basically it was entirely Eragon's fault and therefore he was the one who should've looked sheepish not her, the bastard, making her feel ashamed in his stead.
Briefly Saphira glanced at the shard of rock hung on the wall, where the grumpy old man Brom stood next to a sapphire blue dragon, the first Saphira, or Brom's Saphira at least, whether or not she was the first was… difficult to ascertain.
Saphira had a slight interest in her namesake, a far more keen interest in their first mentors dragons, and this led to something of a fascination with the Brom's Saphira, at first. She had spent a long while viewing the slate, sometimes making Eragon look at it to gain a different perspective, a better one even as the image was rather small.
The slate showed a young man, a blue sword, still sheathed, held by the pommel with its point on the ground, stood on the cliffs, with his dragon beside him resplendent in the sun. This was the day when Brom obtained his Rider sword, a day Oromis had immortalised in memory alone until now, or so the elf had told them.
The slate had been hung in the otherwise plain room, and Saphira wondered if this would be Eragon's mark on this place, a picture of an old man and his dragon. Perhaps he would keep it and merely wanted it displayed. She wasn't sure which, which meant Eragon wasn't sure which.
Saphira returned her attention to her Rider as he finished pulling on his boots.
'Eragon' she said gently, getting her Rider's attention.
Eragon stopped, as he had been heading to the door, adjusting his belt and breeches as he turned to face her "Yeah?"
'Where are you going?' she asked quite casually, and truthfully she was only a little interested. The fact that he had no intention of letting her coming with her made her much more interested however.
"Out."
'Uhuh…' Saphira said nothing else.
Eragon chuckled and grinned at her "I'm going somewhere to do something, it's probably highly ill advised but I'm going to do it, ok?"
He wasn't saying that maliciously, or taunting, or angrily, just teasing her concern. Saphira rolled her eyes 'Well, try not to die.'
"Will do."
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The woods were dark, only the faintest shimmer of moonlight forging its way through thick canopy and onto the forest floor. He could see perfectly, his inhuman eyes catching the light in a way that no human eye could.
Briefly Eragon wondered what it looked like, was his pupil freakishly large? Or were his eyes just more sensitive to light more generally and he just… put up with the light? It was interesting enough, but he had no desire to find or create a mirror to check.
Also he was here on other business.
Not that anyone was to know about this business, for all intents and purposes he had just gone for a walk and that's all anyone other than him would know… except maybe Saphira, and anyone else he decided to tell when he was drunk or whatever situation may occur. Basically he had no intention of letting anyone know, right now, but that could change.
He had wandered far from Ellesmera, it had taken him a good hour and a half of solid walking to get to where he was, and there was nary an elf in sight. Well… he said that.
"Rider" her voice was cold, there was an iciness to it that made him grin. Turning Eragon found himself face to face with the elven queen Islanzadi.
"Queeny" he said by way of greeting.
She didn't visibly respond, instead she strode past him. He followed when he realised she wasn't going to stop anytime soon, and they walked until there was a break in the trees where moonlight poured in upon a babbling brook. They stopped there, Eragon a few paces behind the elf, the elf not turning back to face him.
The cloak she wore on their previous meeting was draped over her shoulders again, and the hood was up as well, hiding her fair features. She wore russet leggings, and a dark green tunic embroidered with royal purple threads that weaved patterns in the form of vines all over the fabric.
Finally she turned to face him, still not removing the hood and casting her face into shadows against the moonlight. She did not look angry, per se, stern but calm, official that was the correct word it was a… dissatisfying expression. Imperious and proud, but utterly lacking in emotion. It was like looking into the face of the elven nation as a whole, so very boring.
He prefered her angry, or moaning… but that was another matter entirely.
Of course the only reason that was a matter at all was because of what occurred the last time they met. And Eragon still wasn't sure how he felt about it.
Had it been a mistake, a moment where anger, desperation, frustration, all of these things wore him down and, combined with a dose of arousal, he did something stupid that he should now regret? Or was it a conscious decision, did he desire Islanzadi like he desired… pretty much every other woman? Well more than every other woman, was his desire comparable to his desire for Arya, he supposed was a more appropriate query, if not entirely accurate.
It had been… enjoyable. That much was certain and he was certainly more interested in such acts now than he had been before. Whether or not he was interested in performing said acts with Islanzadi was the question, and not one he had an answer too.
He had considered it in a Oromis like fashion, emulating the wise elderly elf by standing with his arms clasped behind his back, watching the sunrise, feeling proud and arrogant and thinking on how stupid humans were in a melancholic fashion.
It had helped, strangely enough.
He had managed conclude both that this was a mere distraction, of no real consequence, and that this represented a twisted desire for Arya, and that it had simply been an enjoyable encounter that he would happily continue, and that it was a mistake that should not ever be repeated.
The first was true, it could easily be just a one time thing, never to be spoken of again, not due to shame, but to maintain both parities appearances.
The second, though he had little desire to admit it, was also true. He did desire Arya, and Islanzadi did look similar to her daughter, and there was some sick satisfaction to be gained from what he did. It made him uncomfortable to think about it like that, however.
The third was also true, it had been… good, and certainly raised his interest in such matter, whether or not he pursued it with Islanzadi was another matter, but he certainly wouldn't be able to ignore it entirely anymore.
And the fourth and final point was, of course, true. He had other priorities, this could cause political problems, it cause him personally confusion, and it had every potential to mess up his relationship with Arya, whatever that was.
All conclusion were true… the fact that at least two of the four, and possibly three, indicated that such a relationship should not continue was telling though.
Of course, Eragon doubted it would, given the look on the elf queen's face. Even if he was, and he wasn't sure about that, she had clearly come to and stuck with conclusion four.
"I wish to talk" she said softly.
"Uhuh" he said, feeling like mocking her vague desire with some pointless drivel or annoying bullshit, but deciding not too.
"What occurred that night, Rider…" and that was where her cool mask began to crack "I… I would appreciate if you would agree to never speak of it again, to anyone."
Eragon nodded, that was a fair request, his nod was not intended to be indicative of his agreement to it, however, merely his acknowledge of it.
"It was… inappropriate, for both of us. You are, of course, not entirely to blame, nor do I place the blame on you. But I would still appreciate this concession from you."
"You think if I was going to spread it around I would've done so already" Eragon said mockingly, crouching down next to the stream and watching the water as it glistened.
He heard the elf queen bite back a word and instead "True. I still wish for your agreement, however."
"You have my word, as good as that is. I won't give you anything more though, and that's nothing personal."
She nodded "Then we're done he…"
"Can I ask you something?" he said before she could take her leave, she scowled but removed the expression and cooled herself before speaking.
"Of course."
"Why?" he stood slowly and took a step towards her, noticing that she did not recoil, nor step back, nor repulse his advance in any way "Why did you let me?" his fingers touched the soft skin of her cheek, running from the cheekbone down to the jaw "It could've ended at any time" he smiled a little "Well, after the first kiss at least" that had been forced on her… everything else she accepted "But it didn't… you didn't end it. Why?"
"That is…" she said nothing more, she didn't continue. Perhaps she had no words to say. It was frustrating somewhat that she lacked what he wanted, instead he decided to just take it.
Eragon kissed her.
He didn't do it because he wanted a repeat, he didn't even do it because he wanted to, no more than he ever did, he did it because he wanted to know 'Why?'. That was why he asked her why, not because he wanted her reason… he wanted his own. He wanted to know why he did what he did. Was it because she looked like Arya, was it a spur of the moment thing, was it something else entirely?
After a short while he broke their connection and stepped back.
Islanzadi stood there, stock still, and gulped "Why did you…" she took a breath "I have no interest in continuing this… matter, Rider. I apologise if this offends you, but am certain you can find another partner for such activities. We are not a race notable for our abstinence, and you, a Rider, will have many admirers."
Eragon nodded "Yeah, it's fine" he still didn't really know, it didn't help clear his head either. But it's not like he wanted to fuck her on the spot either… well, no more than he had wanted before.
This situation was far too confusing for him.
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Islanzadi watched him leave.
She let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding in when he was out of sight, her body relaxing though she swore it hadn't been tense. Did the Rider make her that nervous? Or was it a fear of… that happening again.
Her finger came to her lips without her own will, touching where his had been moments before.
She wrenched it away.
So, I'm frustrated, and that's why you're getting another chapter so early. Why am I frustrated, you probably aren't asking? Because I looked at the timeline on the Inheriwiki for Eldest and its annoying me. It says Eragon trained with Oromis for a month and a half at most, and I thoroughly disagree with this. I can't provide factual evidence, but the way his entire time in Ellesmera is written it's like it took years, and certainly months.
It's probably not going to come into play in this fic at all, I'll just make sure to be vague, but fuck Paolini.
Fuck him.
Edit: On further reflection and some study of Eldest, it probably was a month and a half. I listed every passage of time I noticed, and some I assumed, and only got to 37 (bear in mind I did pretty low estimates in certain cases) so yeah 45 days sounds about right... fuck. I retract my earlier statements, ignore them. Sorry Paolini, you did okay.
Toodles.
