Chapter 24:Advancing Legions.
There was a thunk, that was what stirred Rhunon from her quiet contemplation, the thunk of a bottle if her ears weren't mistaken. They weren't.
She considered the bottle, slender and elegant in design, but thick on the bottom, made of faceted crystal, and filled with a red wine so dark it was almost purple, and then the person who had placed it down, a plain looking human with the most startling eyes, red like blood, glistening with inhuman rage and hate, completely at odds with the man's somewhat calm expression.
Those eyes… they did not belong on any sane being, nor on any being her race called ally. Yet they did, even so.
"What's this?" she asked gruffly.
"I asked around" the Rider told her "A certain elf told me your favourite wine, brewed in the last days of Dellanir by the elf err… Flaggish?" the boy frowned "Something like that."
"Flagiren" she corrected, eyeing the bottle. It was indeed her favourite, but she knew of only one bottle left remaining, and that snarky bastard wouldn't give it up for love nor money. But… said snarky bastard did love a good challenge, for instance had challenged her to not forge for twenty years, and if she succeeded he would grant her the wine.
She hadn't succeeded.
"What did he challenge you to?" Rhunon half asked, half demanded.
Eragon grinned at her, revealing sharp white canines "He told me to surprise him… so I punched him in the face."
Her laughter rang through the forge for a good minute, before dying down into chuckles "I suppose that would surprise him" she said grinning back. That snarky bastard had been alive for many days, but he doubted he had been punched by a Dragon Rider before, and a random punch thrown was surprising enough by itself.
"So?"
The Rider raised an eyebrow at her "So what?"
"So what do you want from me? As I assume you didn't bring that here to rub it in my face" she patiently began the process of lightning the forge with a tinder box. It would take a while before it came to the heat needed for forging metal, time Rhunon planned to use to figure out what she would craft.
"You're right, I didn't" Eragon said, he handed her a wine glass made of crystal that he produced from… somewhere, she hadn't noticed him carrying them when he entered, the opened the wine and poured her a glass, pouring himself one too "I was rather hoping you'd allow me to ask you some questions, and I have something that needs fixing."
She considered it, the chalice in her fingers. Her decision was made when she sipped it "Show me what you need to fix, and you can wheedle me while I prepare."
He produced a bone handled hunting knife, bent almost on a right angle, and handed it to her. It wasn't outstanding work, but she'd seen worse, and aside from the bend it looked to be in fairly good condition. It looked like it had seen some use, not to mention it stank of blood. A hunting knife definitely.
Rhunon considered how best to fix it, on the one hand she could bend it back into shape with a vice and her strength, but that could weaken the metal. Better to heat it back up to bend it, then heat treat it to remove any tension in the material.
"Shouldn't be too difficult" she said, placing it on the anvil for safe keeping as she bustled about, glass in hand, to get the forge ready.
Eragon left her be for a while, sitting silently and sipping his own wine until it was empty.
Finally the silence, and the fact that there was company, became unbearable "You said you had questions?" she asked, checking the temperature of the coals.
He nodded, then frowned "I…" he struggled with the words a while longer. Maybe he was having difficulty figuring out what to ask first "You were alive before the pact with the dragons."
"Question or statement?" she queried, none too kindly.
"Bit of both."
Rhunon sighed and rolled her eyes "Yes, I was. What else?"
"I want to know what it was like. What the dragons were like, what Eragon was like, what the binding entailed. I want to know what Alagaesia was like when you first arrived. I want to know about the weapons and armour you've crafted through the ages, and where they ended up. I want to know a lot. Will you tell me?"
She snorted, was that not what she had agreed to at the start of this "I have a long life, it'll take a while" he nodded "I'm also not exactly savvy as to the state of the world and never have been. I have my forge, that's enough, and it always was. I can tell you what I crafted, I can't tell you what they would go on to be though" again he nodded "Also, by 'a while' I meant more than we can cover tonight. Try seventy."
Eragon just smiled "I have time."
Rhunon scoffed "Fine then…" though she said that, it still took her a moment, a long moment, to gather her thoughts and honestly to remember. It had been so very long ago "When we first arrived in Alagaesia, it was a beautiful land" she began "Full of wonder. Dwarves built great edifices out of gold and precious gems, and dragons roamed the skies, leaving ash in their wake, and in the midst of this pseudo balance, we elves arrived. And Alagaesia became a land full of strife..."
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'It looks rather… out of place' Saphira commented, surveying his work.
Mounted in the dining room that they never bothered to use, Eragon's now not bent little pokey claw thing, that he called a dagger but she'd call mini-claw, and above that his repaired former stick shooter, he had taken great care to mend the fibers and repair the 'bow' back to its former form, and now had it placed so that the curved wood and string of the bow, as he left it strung, surrounded the hunting knife.
It looked pleasant enough, but the dining room had no other decorations, which makes it look like it didn't belong.
Eragon shrugged "I'll add to it" he told her.
'Oh, what will you add?'
"Weapons" Eragon told her, closing the dining room door and heading back to the bedroom, Saphira stepped away from the door of the bedroom, where she had had to crane her neck to see into the dining room, but she wanted to see. These were her rooms as well after all "Weapons of my enemies, weapons of my allies, anything that means something to me. Or to the Riders."
'I thought you didn't care about the Riders' she said, curling up in her basket while her Rider practically fell onto the bed.
"I…" Eragon hesitated "I have mixed feelings" he confessed "They were idiots, and caused a preventable situation. But… I might not have met you if they hadn't."
'Hmm?'
He rolled to look at her "I have no intention of resurrecting the Order, the world can survive fine without them. But that doesn't mean they aren't worthy of respect, even admiration. They were idiots in their end days, but in their glory days… they were probably just as stupid."
She laughed her growling laugh.
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"It won't be long now."
Eragon's brow creased, ever so slightly, as he considered those words, and turned his head slightly to consider the being that had spoken them "What do you mean?"
Legion smiled at him madly, revealing an array of pointed white teeth. It ran a tongue, pink and wet, over them before speaking "It won't be long."
The Rider sighed, did Legion take some pleasure out of forcing more questions from him, or did it think Eragon would know what he meant purely by that statement "Until?" he tried instead.
"Until it's time."
"For what?"
If Legion's smile got any wider it was going to split its face in two, but despite the smile on its face, those eyes spoke of horrific acts, of murder and desecration, while Eragon's brown eyes were calm, collected, cool, and held an authority to them. As they should, this was his world, and he ruled here.
They were like opposites, opposites wearing the same face. Legion was bedraggled and mad, Eragon was dressed like a king and in perfect control of his faculties, physical and mental.
But despite his question Legion didn't respond.
That made Eragon smile, just a small smile, amused but not callously so, quietly so "I see. So you want to say, but you… know you shouldn't? Is that it? Keeping a secret can be difficult when you're constantly reminded of said secrets existence. Which means I remind you of the secret… so" Eragon folded his palms "Let us consider all of this. You have a secret, it is oncoming, and it involves me…" a quite smirk worked its way onto his face "I see."
'You know what he speaks of?' from the shadows behind Eragon's throne, he stepped. Massive and radiating power, larger than Saphira, and shining with light. A dragon, purest white, and a being whose true nature still held some mystery to him. Some, not complete.
He nodded to the uninvited guest, whether or not such a guest needed an invite or not was anyone's guess. He had expected such a thing, Legion itself had stated such intentions previously, it was not difficult to put those together and come up with an answer.
Legion, on the other hand, was far less calm about the interloper to their private conversation.
"You" Legion snarled, its face becoming twisted with rage, it eyes filled with a hate equal to that which it gaze upon Eragon with. The Rider was almost jealous, jealous that those eyes, so full of pure and utter loathing, were turned upon any but he. Almost "You bastard, defiler, shit stain, fucker, sociopath, cock wart, disgrace, traitor, parasite, arse, prick, cunt gnawing DICK WAFFLE!"
At the end of that profane shout, Eragon chuckled.
The dragon snorted, unthreatened, not at all insulted, and most importantly utterly uninterested in Legion's rambling 'Are you done?'
"NO!" Legion roared, though it did not continue. Instead it turned to Eragon, struggling to keep its gaze from the dragon "He is not your ally, Eragon" it warned, or stated, or lied, Eragon wasn't sure which "That thing is more deserving of the title monster, than even I ever will be" its eyes kept flicking over to where the dragon sat next to Eragon's black throne, but twitched away before they reach it "You should…" it paused, tensed, twitched, cracked its neck, and only the continued "You should not trust it" finally Legion allows its eyes to come to rest on the dragon, before wrenching them away and spitting in disgust "It is not worthy of such a privilege".
Eragon shrugged, adjusting his sitting position slightly to get more comfortable "Who should I trust then, you?"
That made Legion smile, amused at the prospect perhaps, or honoured at the consideration "We have done nothing to break your trust" it said.
When he spoke next his words were flat, almost bored "You've tried to kill me, multi…"
"Not kill!" Legion snapped, before he could continue "Never kill! Killing you would make everything pointless, worthless it would ruin everything, everything would collapse, there would be no purpose, you need to live, we need you to live, we don't want you to do, you shouldn't die, don't die, we won't kill you, never kill, never ever, ever kill you, not ev…"
The dragon roared, so loud the room itself shook, so loud it made even Legion stop his ramblings, and, quite quickly after, the dragon stopped allowing Eragon to continue.
"Control then" he adjusted, not losing his bored or flat tone despite what had just occurred "You've tried to wrest control from me multiple times. He has done no such thing. In fact he's only ever aided me in fighting off you."
"And you think he did that out of the goodness of his heart?" Legion shouted, almost panicked in tone "You think that thing even has a heart?"
Eragon shrugged "I don't know, I'm not even sure what he is… So I'll listen to my gut" he leaned forwards "And my guts says, you're more likely to stab it then he" he jabbed a finger back at the dragon whose head was within arms distance of the throne.
Legion stood silent for a minute, its mouth trembling, then it stormed away, its screams could be heard in its wake until the doors of the throne room closed, silencing all noise from beyond.
The dragon stayed where he was, its body behind Eragon, its head to the side of the throne, but he turned his great head to survey the Rider 'I shall ask again… you know of what he speaks?'
Eragon smiled, so he truly did not know, interesting. It knew more than he at times, but not this time "Legion is not defeated, nor tame. He's merely suppressed, and the day will come, when he's gathered all of his strength, that he will challenge me again, for my throne."
The dragon considered this a while, before it spoke again 'Things have not changed since last your battle. No… you have grown stronger since then. Legion knows it cannot win. It must know… so why?'
That made him chuckle, a very gentle, almost sad chuckle "Have you not seen what's happened out there?" he asked, softly and somberly "A great scar will, some day soon, rend the fortress of my mind to dust, split it clean in two, leave it an easily conquerable ruin."
The dragon looked confused, so he explained, as best he understood.
From what Oromis told him, from what Durza told him, from what Legion told him, and from what the scar he had seen told him, he spoke of his belief, a belief he was so certain of it must be true.
"When Durza struck me, his blow did not just leave a physical mark, it left a mark here" he tapped his skull "On my mind. Slowly it would eat away at me, tearing me asunder, it is a curse, and not easily rectified. If not for that, the balance of power would be stable, and Legion would bow to me, as it is Legion rebels because it knows a day will come when it can seize power… or so it believes."
'I will stand with you' Whitey, as Eragon had just nicknamed him, said.
Eragon smiled "Of course you will. I'm not entirely certain how it came about, but I think I know what you are."
'Oh?' the dragon looked, hesitant, uncertain. As if something he did want revealed had been discovered, or something he was embarrassed about at least.
"Show me" Eragon's voice changed, from calm and casual, as if speaking to a friend, his tone returned to that of the ruler of this place, this was his mind, and he was king here. If needs be, he could force the dragon's cooperation, but he did not think it would resist.
'I… would rather not… but if you so desire' and so it was… the dragon bared unto him it's very spirit.
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Vanir's knees buckled as Eragon simply overpowered him, his guard breaking, and he fell to his knees, the joint stinging as he landed hard on the hard packed ground.
It was not the first, nor did he have any doubts that it would not be the last, time that Eragon had resorted to sheer overwhelming strength to knock him down, dominating him utterly. It was however the fourteenth time today, and it was somewhat unlike the Rider, oddly enough, to be quite so callous.
He prefered to… toy, not that was not the correct word, 'demonstrate his superior skill', mayhaps, but he prefered to dominate in a way less reliant on brute force. Letting Vanir overextend and punishing it, as opposed to just bulldozing him aside.
It was good practise, Vanir would not deny, and Eragon attained some satisfaction from the act, if not any skill. It did serve to maintain his present skill however, which was precisely what Oromis asked of him. This brutal bludgeoning was not good practise, this was simply being crushed, there was no room to learn your mistakes or errors when you were simply beaten down in mere moments, no room for improvement when you were stampeded in such a way.
Eragon backed off, breathing heavily "That all you got?" he asked, and there was anger in his voice Vanir noted. Again, unusual, the Ride wasn't exactly calm, but usually in good humour, or would at least mock and tease instead of being outright angry.
"Apologies Eragon-elda" but Vanir still had respect for him, in that odd way that you could respect those who were simply superior to you.
It was not something he liked, but the alternative was being blind and dumb. It was not something his fellow elves liked either, though the older ones seemed oddly numb to that and more concerned about the Rider's callous attitude and occasional anger. They cared not that he was better than them, they cared about the fact that he was worse.
That attitude was something Vanir sought to emulate, after being shamed so thoroughly, perhaps he only did so because it allowed him to maintain a semblance of superiority to the Rider, or perhaps it was that he was truly growing up, somehow he doubted it was the latter.
His fellow youths, though they were all far older than the Rider himself, did not share his attitude.
Whereas before Vanir would have been pleased at their support, and their distaste for the Rider whom he had had his own fair share of distaste for, now he saw it only as a nuisance, pointless anger that Eragon only stoked. It wasn't because Eragon was harsher on him for their actions or anything like that, Eragon didn't care. It was because they disliked him for the wrong reasons. They didn't dislike him because he was worse than them, but because he was better.
"I don't want your apologies" Eragon told him sneering at the kneeling elf "Stop being so pathetic! Is this all the elves have to offer? Are you it Vanir?"
He could see the scowls on many faces, some were disappointed, some were angry, but the ones he noticed most of all were furious. And they got worse as Eragon continued to rant, his voice rising, his words getting angrier, he was shouting and all could hear it, and all had fallen silent in the training grounds.
"Is this the limit of the elven nation? It this everything you poncy proud little fucks can do? IS THIS IT?" was his shouts directed at Vanir still, or at the assembled crowd. No one put forth an answer, several turned away and resumed their own training, one left. Eragon laughed "So it is then…" he laughed some more "No wonder you lost to Galbatorix."
Was that breaking point, did everything build up to that moment, or was it just that statement, that stab at their pride that set it all in motion. Vanir didn't know, what he did now was that several of his fellows elves marched towards Eragon, swords drawn, faces stern, anger in their eyes.
"Would you honour us" one elf said, forgetting or ignoring the niceties that they lived by, the words spoken barely more than a hiss "with a duel, Rider. Mayhaps we can provide a greater challenge than our friend."
He would've been offended, if he wasn't so worried. This was not a good thing, not a good thing at all. Quickly, and more boldly than he perhaps should have, he reached out with his mind and searched for the mourning sage.
They didn't wait for him.
"Of course" Eragon said, smiling "I would be delighted to entertain you" his smile spoke of malice, his eyes of murder.
The elves attacked as one, five of them, again one of Eragon. It was fierce, steel moving like rain, clashing and splashing against one another. It was beautiful in a sense, a display of prowess from all parties that would amaze. But most impressive was Eragon, who held his own against five attackers at once.
His twin swords matched all five of theirs, and then as one drew a knife it matched that as well, holding off six different weapons. It was all he could do though, all he could do to hold them off, he couldn't attack because there were too many of them, and attacking would leave him exposed. Even his great strength was no help as the elves guarded one another, moving fluidly, a trained unit, Eragon would bat one aside and two would guard him while he recovered, preventing any further assault.
And Eragon… was enjoying it.
Vanir would not be so arrogant as to claim to be an expert on the man, but he knew when Eragon was enjoying himself. That same grin had been on his face when he had been fighting Arya. Did it really take five of them to match one of her? He would realise in a moment that that was incorrect.
Five of them did not match Eragon, as Arya had, instead… they outmatched him.
Their unguarded blades sliced into his midriff, cutting a superficial wound, but no doubt a painful one. They didn't let up, despite the fact that they had clearly not guarded their blades as was expected of a dual in Ellesmera, blood was spilling from the Rider, and no one did anything. No elf stepped in, no one moved to chastise the younglings, or break up the fight.
Was they all so angry at the Rider, so offended by his words? Did they wish to see him shamed? He could understand all of it, but it was foolish all the same, and of course they all seemed to forget.
Vanir glanced at the sapphire dragon, who watched the fight through a single eye. He could see the tension in her muscles, even while she lay there seemingly relaxed, if not asleep. If they did not stop soon, there would be hell.
And he wasn't entirely sure it would be just Saphira, or even just Eragon.
'Oromis-elda, what should I do?' he asked, having relayed the information but received no response.
Oromis responded very softly indeed, with a statement Vanir did not expect 'Do not expect me to help justify you helping the Rider, you can manage that on your own. I have no qualms about Eragon paying the price for his actions, only if they might kill him must you interfere. Otherwise your actions are your own.'
Had he been looking for an excuse to help the Rider?
No, he decided firmly, standing and slowly striding towards the fray, he didn't want to help the Rider, that wasn't what this was about at all. This was something entirely different.
He blocked a blow aimed for Eragon's back, parrying the blade and shoving the assailant back with his shoulder.
"Vanir?" the elf said, shocked and angry. Two elves stood before him, three before Eragon, as they stood now back to back "What are you doing Vanir?" he asked, stepping forward menacingly.
Brisgar was a tall elf, with very angular features, his eyebrows were slender but such a deep black, same as his hair, that they didn't seem terribly slender. His eyes were cold grey, like steel, he looked every bit the proud and noble warrior. Vanir knew him well, they had known each other since childhood and each hoped to be chosen by the dragon egg, both genuinely crushed when she did not pick them.
Vanir stood ready for combat "Protecting my friends" he said simply. That was his excuse, that was his justification.
Brisgar snarled, saying equally bitter and angry "Friends, with a human? You've fallen Vanir" his face further darkened when Vanir did not respond "Friends with the one who ruined our hope? Is that what you are."
Vanir smiled, almost amused "I'm not talking about Eragon" he said, before moving to strike.
He held his own well against two elves, two elves who each individually match him in skill, he was cut and wounded multiple times, but he had had worse, Eragon's bruises were more painful and debilitating that these mere flesh wounds. He did not score a hit on them, they moved to in synch, but nor could they make their way past him.
But Brisgar had no intention of leaving the Rider be, words poured out of his lips and before Vanir realised what he was saying the magic was wrought.
He glanced back as Eragon froze in place, his sword about ready to smash into one of his opponents legs. Said opponent took the opportunity to land a blow on Eragon's own leg, cutting down to the bone.
Before finally someone other than Vanir decided to interrupt.
"Enough!" came a stern voice as several more elves stepped forwards, these were not the younger elves allies however "Brisgar, Elethrel, Niag, Ciumon, Tengal, you have all shamed us enough with your action. Release your magic" Kalagreer was far older than any of them. He had fought in the Rider war, an elf worthy of respect and admiration, of the title elda. And from the look on Brisgar's face, he couldn't care less.
Vanir felt his leg snap, he screamed at the sudden pain and looked around for the source. But even as he did so, swords shattered, several trees were simply broken, branches in most cases, but in one and entire tree was felled as its trunk simply… broke.
Bows, limbs, trees, swords, and lastly, the one he noticed last, Eragon's own fingers, all broke.
And then Brisgar was on his knees, exhausted, and Eragon stood up tall, as if working out a kink in his back, the magic binding him... broken.
But when he turned to Vanir, and likely more importantly to Brisgar, there was just raw unbridled anger in his eyes. He strode forwards, sheathing his silver sword which had been claimed from the Shade he had slain. Leaving him with just the foul blade Zar'roc in his hand. His grip changed, he grasped the blade with his non-broken hand, tight enough, and poorly enough, to cause blood to come dribbling from his palm.
As he strode towards the pair of them, each footfall heavy across the now cracked his sword held like a mace, Vanir was struck by how… thirsty the ruby looked, glinting in the sun as if eager for blood.
Vanir stood, and moved to stand before Brisgar, directly in front of the Rider.
"Move" Eragon's voice was like cold fire, burning and freezing at the same time.
"Eragon-finiarel, please calm yourself" said Kalagreer, taking a step forward but not placing him between the Rider and the other elf "Brisgar is a fool, I admit, and he did wrong, but…"
"Move" Eragon demanded again, not looking anywhere but Vanir.
Vanir gulped and, somewhat certain he was about to die, said quite simply "No."
The anger on the Rider's face became darker, his grip even tighter, letting loose more blood. Vanir did not raise his sword, did not ready for battle, he simply stood between the Rider, and his friend.
Zar'roc was returned to its sheathe roughly, and Eragon's anger had died somewhat, how he was unsure, but it had "Fuck" he cursed turning to Saphira "Has it really been more than an hour?"
'How should I know' Saphira projected her response to all who wished to hear it 'I was sleeping.'
Eragon glanced at Vanir, who considered it for a moment, before nodding "I do believe it has been more than an hour, Eragon-elda."
The Rider cursed again, in the human tongue, and rather foully. All Vanir really caught from that was "Glaedr's gonna burn me alive, again" as the Rider stormed over to his dragon.
Once he was gone, Brisgar stood and considered Vanir "You…" he said, but was interrupted.
Kalagreer stood before all of the five elves, his face… not angry. Worse, disappointed "You were all fools" he said softly "Every single one of you. What do you think would've happened if you'd done any true harm to him? That his dragon would just sit there and let him be abused? If not for Vanir's interference you would all likely be dead."
Vanir wondered then, why Kalagreer hadn't interrupted before hand, but he realised a moment later, the older elf had not been at the training grounds when the fight had started, he had arrived later, and most likely immediately involved himself, calling to action those elves who respected him and his opinion.
"Your lives are precious, gifts from your parents, and you would waste them on a petty squabble?"
Looking at the faces of the five elves whom he would consider his friends, Vanir wondered if any of them felt any shame. Perhaps, but only at being shamed, not for the act they had done. And Kalagreer seemed to notice that too.
"Very well then, if you will not reflect on your actions, I will make. Adults you may be, but no longer. I will now treat you as you are, children" Kalagreer was angry now, angered by their disregard for what he was trying to teach them, and it was not a pleasant sight "Tomorrow, you will all report to me at the first light of dawn. Failure to do so will not be tolerated. All of your swords are confiscated, and you will not find any elf willing to train with you in the training grounds. For now though, clean up your mess."
He gestured to the damage wrought, the broken limbs and swords and bows and trees.
"Not you" Kalagreer said as Vanir moved to help "You did nothing" he waved him away dismissively.
Vanir did not want to leave, they were his friends after all, and if they were punished he felt like he should be too. But he did as he was told, Kalagreer was a man to be respected after all, and no doubt he had a reason for his actions, and furthermore it is not as if he was incorrect, Vanir had done nothing wrong.
And a part of him was thankful, he really wanted to fix his broken leg.
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'You seem angry young Rider' Glaedr said as he considered the Rider whom he sat opposite.
The young ones mood was quite obvious, he was rather non compliant, which was not strange for his Rider, but was strange for him. And he seemed distracted, had arrived wounded, not to mention late. And there was a great big scowl on his face, the best and biggest sign, one Glaedr had missed for roughly half an hour.
"Probably because I am."
'Ah' that made sense, he seemed angry because he was, a good answer, in a way. Not the one the dragon had been looking for 'Why?'
Eragon shrugged "Rough night."
Glaedr snorted 'If your mating causes you such anger, you are doing it wrong.'
"It wasn't that."
'Then what was it?'
The Rider bit his lip, which Glaedr only noticed after a moment. These damn facial expressions, so difficult "I…" and that made him worried, the Rider's hesitation. Glaedr sat a little more upright, ignored the subject he had been teaching, and focused entirely on the Rider.
'Speak, little one, I will not judge. And I may be able to help.'
Eragon considered the dragon for a long moment, and Glaedr considered him in turn. The RIder was quite small, but so were all beings compared to him, even Oromis was small now, and Glaedr could still remember when Oromis was larger than he. He looked rather plain, human plain, save for his eyes which were distinctly inhuman.
He was a child, and Glaedr was reminded as such again, by how very small he was.
"I had a dream."
He did not continue that statement, so Glaedr decided to follow his Rider's example and use useless information to return the conversation to topic 'Elves do not dream. Did you know?' the Rider shook his head 'Well, they don't. They enter a… trance, of sorts. A dream like state where they are still fully aware of their surroundings, but their body and mind can rest. How do you dream, Eragon?' that was how his Rider would do it, no? Useless information, followed by a poignant question.
Eragon stood and wandered to the edge of the cliff Glaedr had landed on. He was supposed to be educating the Rider in certain information regarding dragons, and the bond between him and Saphira, and instead he was chatting. But that was fine, this was important, and Oromis could always pick up the slack. He could be a merciless taskmaster when he wished.
Glaedr rather liked the Rider. He was crude, rude, blunt and brutal. He reminded the elderly dragon of a dragon, funnily enough, though far more vicious and twisted, more malicious too, dragons were violent true , but not especially malice-filled. But he certainly liked the Rider more than he liked the Rider's dragon, she was… a fair bit of trouble.
But that was beyond the here and now, here and now they were discussing dreams, for reasons Glaedr had yet to understand.
"In my dreams… I'm King" Eragon said. The statement made Glaedr uncomfortable, until he elaborated "I don't mean King of Alagaesia… I mean… I'm powerful, I rule, over me. If that makes sense."
Glaedr nodded, it made reasonable sense, especially for a being such as Eragon.
"In my dreams, I'm just Eragon. Brown eyed, brown haired Eragon. In my dreams, Legion is separate, a separate being. The Dragon is too, though bound to me" Glaedr nodded again, his Rider had filled him in on such details, and they had discussed it at length. They both had ideas as to its truth nature, but neither could confirm it without more intrusive measures.
Measures neither were willing to take.
"In my dreams I'm confident, I'm calm, I'm collected, I know what I'm doing, I'm sure of myself and my abilities. In my dreams…" Eragon spoke softly, so softly Glaedr had to crane his ears to hear, lest the wind tear the words away and they be lost forever "...I'm not afraid."
That made him pause, for a very long moment, and Eragon did not continue, merely stared out over the cliff edges, at the forest that stretched out beyond like a great green sea 'Are you afraid, Eragon?' Eragon glanced back at him inquisitively 'You do not appear afeared, you are confident, collected and calm no, but sure of yourself…' Glaedr grumbled a laugh 'There you are perhaps overly so.'
Eragon chuckled himself "You said it yourself though, when we first met. I hide who I am, I act like someone I'm not… and I hide because I'm afraid, Glaedr" he looked back at the elderly dragon, and the golden beast was struck by how sombre those red eyes that should speak only of death and carnage looked in that moment "...I'm always afraid."
Hey, slightly more sane authors note for a change. I was wondering what you guy's favorite books and animoo and mangos and movies and tv series are, not what you think is good or even worth watching, but what you like and whats... important, I guess, to you.
For me obviously HP and Inheritance are probably the most prominent books, I think HP is the only reason I got into reading in fact. I also have read all of A Song of Ice and Fire, didn't watch Game of Thrones though, I know I'd get annoyed at all the differences from the books especially know that its treading unknown territory. I also like the Broken Empire trilogy, staring with Prince of Thorns, if you like my snarky Eragon you'd probably like the main character out of that, ending wasn't great but they rarely are.
Anime's, well, I think I'd put Hellsing and the Monogatari series as stuff I think is really good, but Naruto is pretty much my first anime (I'm not counting Yu-Gi-Oh! and Pokemon, too westernized) and it holds a special place in my heart, despite being pretty mediocre. I like Bleach too, but not as much, and got into One Piece a while back and One Piece is great, its stupid and great. I also like Seitokai Yakuindomo, but its probably bad, a lot of the jokes are Japanese in jokes, that I don't get, and some of the humor is on the nose, but I like it.
Manga's is kinda the same, cause often I went from the Anime too the manga, Naruto Bleach and One Piece this occurred, but I also regularly read Shokugeki no Soma and To Love Ru Darkness when it comes out, both are pretty terrible, but To Love Ru is just awful, I love it. I also like Trinity Seven and Dragon's Rioting, both are pretty bad, and I got really far in a manga called Vagabond, really good, I like it a lot, but I can't remember for the life of me the plot or what's going on, I left a while back on page 2 of chapter 239 and never continued. Maybe I should. I should also read more Jojo, its weird, but in a sort of good way, I'm not sure yet and I am not very far in at all. I also read Berserk, that's pretty good, more animeish that I'd have expected, Berserk isn't just a dark gore fest, it also has a little girl in love with guts, hurrah for animoos and mangoos!
Movies and TV shows I like is harder as I don't watch too many, I watched a movie called Snatch, that was good, but other than that I've just got standard stuff, Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, I think I watched the first Avengers that was okay, yeah, my movie history isn't extensive. As for TV shows, well I like Supernatural a fair bit, and Buffy, I watched that back in the day, Friends too, I also watched was it called Lucifer? I forget, the premise is the devil is a club owner and finds a police detective he likes then goes around solving crime with her, its pretty bad. It was fine. Then you've got the standard, Sherlock, Doctor Who, that's actually all I can think of, those are both okay. I don't watch Doctor Who anymore and I gave Sherlock up in season 2 I think, might've been season 1, I dunno.
So yeah, if you bothered to read all of that, or if you read the first part and decided to let me know what you like, cool and thanks, I'm genuinely quite curious.
Toodles.
