A:N - If you managed to read my previous note regarding Facebook, please just ignore it. The page idea isn't going ahead. Instead, I'll post updates on chapter progress here on FanFiction, at the top of my profile. The reviews will stay the same, i.e. - I'll respond to you directly if you have a query, and will only post the answer before any chapter if it concerns a major issue. This means that trivial questions asked through anonymous reviews will NOT be answered, as I refuse to clog up the word count by answering reviews (a personal pet peeve, if you've read my profile). If you want to ask something trivial, or not overly important, please do so through a proper account in order to get an answer. Thanks.
Chapter Sixteen – Second Hope
Alagaёsia, the early days of spring. This period marked a time of great change in the land. Historians would aptly name it: 'the Exodus of Souls', for that is what it was. Thousands of people flocked from the streets of the dreaded capital, making a beeline for numerous other towns and cities scattered across the nation. Many headed south, directly to the welcoming embrace of King Orrin, including soldiers who had now deserted, courtesy of one former general utilising his great influence over the troops.
There were many who remained loyal to the Empire, of course. But as their forces were so scattered in the city at the time of its due sacking, they were forced to retreat from the devastation caused by the mutineers. Galbatorix also entertained a small cadre of noblemen and their families, who he purposefully placed above the heavily taxed peasants. Some of them decided to remain, in order to show their undying loyalty, whereas many others also decided to flee. Their homes were gone, and they feared the king would murder them the instant he set foot in the former capital.
The walls were intact, as fire cannot harm stone, save the section that Harry destroyed with a single wave of his wand. The citadel lay in heaps of rubble, the treasury was now empty, and every storehouse in the city had been raided liberally, before being put to the torch. The remaining loyalists, who admittedly still far outnumbered the deserters, fled to neighbouring cities to report the catastrophe. They wouldn't arrive for a few days, provided their supplies held out.
Those who fled south were forced to move with fleet of foot, as the distance between the points of embarkation and disembarkation was vast, and it was quite possible the king would swoop down on them from above and melt the flesh from their bones. Some found this pace difficult to maintain, but the soldiers provided them with as much support as possible, and kept the lines of refugees organised and moving forward hastily.
Harry wished they could have done more, as it was entirely their fault that the city was now gone, but there was really nothing he could do. He couldn't create portkeys and had no access to apparition. Besides, he had something even more important to worry about; two brightly coloured vessels of hope, tucked inside his magically enchanted pouch for safekeeping.
He spurred his horse frantically, knowing they had to make haste. Hoping beyond hope that Brom and Eragon had already arrived at the meeting point on his replicated map, he did not speak to the men beside him, but kept a fierce determination planted firmly in his mind. Actions spoke louder than words, and he half expected the king to be deaf when he returned to the city-that-was as a result of his.
He knew that, from this moment on, they would be hunted down like rabid dogs, possibly by Galbatorix himself. They had to make it to the Varden and rally the forces of peace against the impending wave of darkness. Harry fully intended to place the entire city under the fidelius charm, as soon as he figured out how to cast the incredibly advanced and difficult magic. He did remain cautious, of course. Brom had been wary in wanting to lead them to his former allies for a reason, so Harry would be as suspicious as necessary. If they tried to cross him or his friends, they would instantly regret the decision.
For his part, Murtagh remained calm about the whole situation. He understood the implications of being wanted by the king himself, and how the stakes would be raised even higher after the events that had occurred only a half hour ago, but it didn't seem to affect him in any adverse manner. He was always doomed to either fight or surrender, so what had really changed? Of course, his life would be altered if, somehow, one of the eggs hatched for him, but the chances of that occurring were slim to none. His father had been a Rider, but Murtagh wouldn't be surprised if that actually worked against the egg choosing him, such a black-hearted bastard was Morzan.
Nyos, ever-calm, tried to remain impassive. He had felt almost giddy upon seeing the city fall, but that had now faded as he realised the danger he was in. Even worse, if the king somehow found out how involved he was, then his family would be in grave peril. He hadn't thought about that properly, being so caught up in the moment. Mara had to stay hidden, and he now thought Aberon wasn't the best option. Perhaps a more secluded and less risky location was in order, such as Reavstone. It wasn't a military installation, but a simple city of fishing that supplied Surda with much of its food supply. If only he had thought of this sooner… Derrin would surely have carried the message south for him before leaving.
But too late the mind thinks of what one should have previously said. He was committed now, as were they all.
Harry brought Godric to a sudden stop. The river flowed brightly before their eyes, the Sun's rays beginning to shine off of the reflective surface of cool, clear water that looked tantalisingly inviting. One good thing the king had ordered was for this river to be free of all pollution and waste, although that was primarily for his own sake. Even he needed to survive on some form of sustenance.
Thanks to the charms Harry had cast shortly after departure, they had arrived at the rendezvous point only a short time after their very successful heist. Well, it seemed to be more of a sabotage operation in hindsight, but whichever you preferred to say.
Harry dismounted and pulled out the map he had replicated, ensuring they had gotten the location correct. He looked around, searching for any glimpse of their companions, but found nothing. He was a little worried Durza may not have taken the bait and had somehow captured the three (considering his advanced strength it was a definite possibility), but at the same time refused to let that become a coherent thought and tried to negate it by lying back on a large rock, eyes shut.
"It's dangerous to sit out in the open like this for too long," Nyos observed, casting his experienced gaze around them. In short, there was very little to be seen. The Sun had still not fully risen, and so the area was relatively dark. The only true landmark they could see was the river itself, but that was only because it flowed not ten metres from their current location.
By Harry's calculations they had travelled almost thirty leagues northeast to get to this particular spot. It wasn't exactly an even distance for both groups to traverse, but Saphira could fly much faster than the horses could run, especially when one considered Harry's featherlight charms, so it was relatively balanced nonetheless.
Harry carefully cast several spells around the surrounding area that would hide them from any unfriendly eyes, but he was beginning to severely doubt the effectiveness his magical wards were having against Ancient Language magicians. Nyos and Durza had both seen straight through his disillusionment charms, and his supersensory ability hadn't told him of the man's presence either, which was what its one purpose had been to do
It was something he needed to ponder as soon as he had more time in which to do so.
In truth, Harry wasn't lying there to rest; he wouldn't be so stupid, considering they had just stolen the king's personal dragon eggs. No, he lay there only to calm himself down a little. He felt terrible, an after-effect of the adrenaline in his bloodstream beginning to thin out. He needed to ensure that was kept under wraps, or he may fly off the handle entirely.
With an absent mind, he began to reach out towards the nature surrounding him. It was something he hadn't had much time to practice with, courtesy of the hectic couple of days they had endured. But now he was free for a little while, and extending his reach also provided an aid in surmising whether or not anyone was approaching their position.
He smiled as his mind brushed a small gathering of sparrows in a nearby tree, nesting. The family was so peaceful, so content… it really started to make the young wizard think about one particular issue…
Will I ever be free? Free of enemies, war… death? Or do I live a life of pain and sorrow forever… am I cursed? Will I ever have my own family to raise?
He really had been lucky… so far. Harry had survived more than his fair share of nightmares, starting when he was only a child. And as a child, he had been constantly terrified… something no child should ever feel. Blame for that lay with his hated relatives. They were lucky to be so far away, or he may have decided to pay them a little visit for their years of hell.
After that morbid thought arrived a torrent of memories. The Stone… the Chamber… the Dementors… Voldemort's resurrection… Sirius being killed by that horrible bitch Bellatrix… Dumbledore… and then the huge swaths of dead inside the halls of Hogwarts itself, his home. His home had been tainted, courtesy of one person.
And now a new madman was laying waste to his new home, a favour which Harry had returned in unspoken manner only hours ago by this point. He was damned if Galbatorix was going to join the illustrious rank of Voldemort in making him break like a little child.
With that one rush of self-pride, Harry repressed every negative memory he had and bottled them in one corner of his mind, rather like a spiritual pensieve. As he did so a sudden vision rippled to life in his mind. Not a vision caused by his connection wit Voldemort, which was now gone, but something completely… unexpected.
He was standing in a grand plateau….
Alone on one side.
It was raining heavily… thunder roaring above and lightning crackling across the blackened sky. Before him stood the phantoms of his dreams and thoughts. He recognised Voldemort and his whole entourage of Death Eaters, Slytherin House, Snape, Bellatrix, the Dursleys, Wormtail… even Dumbledore, as he had kept Harry in the dark on so many issues for so long and was the worst of manipulators. But unlike the others, he faded after but a moment, as Harry had partially forgiven him.
"I don't fear you," he spat, eyeing the unbroken line without fear or hesitance. The rain continued to beat around his face and body, but Harry showed it nothing but disdain. "I never did. You are all pathetic, miserable… and you have my pity. Let this act signify that I'm done with you, now and forever. Go to Hell."
With that, he pulled out his wand… and blew the vision into smithereens, vanquishing the weighted memories of his past... forever. Although he never forgot them, they would never trouble him again.
He had new enemies to face.
Durza and Galbatorix's faces swam into view, as if with a cloud of mist. Two armies were amassed behind them; one Urgal and one Empiric.
"I'm taking you down. All of you," Harry growled. "And with this at my side, and my friends also, I will win."
He had pulled out the green egg, and a look of shock flickered across the king's face… up until that moment none of the visions had shown emotion.
Harry didn't realise that he had actually grabbed the dragon egg in reality. A blinding light surrounded him, reflecting off of his eyes like the most precious of sparkling emeralds. Nyos and Murtagh watched, in shock, as this happened before their very eyes.
With a roar of wind, all sound ceased for a brief moment of eternity.
Then, in Harry's hands, the egg membrane burst open, leaving him obscured by a wriggling armful of green wings.
Harry felt his breath tremble as he stared down, breaking free of his vision, wondering if this was nought but the most vivid of dreams. He would have pinched himself, but found it to be unnecessary as the hatchling suddenly nudged his right palm with its forehead, and a wave of pain cascaded through his body, almost causing his knees to knock together.
In shock at what it caused to happen, the dragon jumped gracefully out of his hands and landed on the ground, staring at him with concern. It was young, and couldn't yet understand speech, but it knew the look it could see was one of pain. It also felt, deep in its heart of hearts, that this young human was important. They had formed an irrevocable bond upon touching, and now it felt attached to him through more than life itself.
Up above, only a mile out, Saphira felt the magic in her blood shimmer as the mark of dragons etched itself onto Harry's palm. She dipped her head and flew with such a ferocious pace that Eragon and Brom almost fell off of her backwards. Using her superior vision, Saphira spotted Harry and Murtagh before either of them, along with an unusual man she had never seen before.
She quickly landed, allowing Brom and Eragon to dismount. Murtagh broke out in a wide grin upon spotting them, and then his gaze flickered to the woman strapped to Saphira's chest. His breath caught as he saw her beauty, but he quickly tore his gaze away. Elves had the power to allure any man, and he wouldn't fall privy to such a trick.
Brom carefully untied Arya from her resting place and gently set her on the ground, as close to the fire he quickly conjured with magic as possible. She was freezing, and that was not a good sign. He frowned as his gaze found the man dressed in Imperial armour nearby, and stood to face him.
Nyos fixed his gaze upon the old man who was staring at him intently. He had been mentally punched in the chest by the young woman's beauty, yet even as he said 'woman' he knew there was more to her than such a general term. Such grace could only come from an Elf, so that was his deduction. But now he was facing the wrathful gaze of the man, who was quite clearly leading these young men on a quest to topple the Empire, and he couldn't help but he impressed at his vigour.
"He helped us rescue the eggs," Murtagh quickly interjected, standing in the centre of space between both men. "Brom, he's on our side. But maybe you should look at-"
"Brom? The Brom?" Nyos asked, eyebrows flying upwards.
Murtagh looked at him, and slowly nodded.
Nyos' face cracked into a wide grin, and before long he was laughing heartily. "Oh, I can't be surprised. So that's how you done it?" he asked Murtagh directly.
"It was Harry's idea," Murtagh admitted quietly. "And I'm new to this group as well, but Brom is obviously a source of great wisdom. And Brom, speaking of Harry-"
"Well, I suppose Dragon Riders do have the best knowledge known to man," Nyos stated.
Eragon froze in the act of wiping Arya's brow with a wet cloth and his gaze snapped up to meet the back of Brom's head. Murtagh blinked in surprise. Brom remained impassive.
"You're lying," Eragon stated blankly, shifting his gaze to the other man.
"Am I?" Nyos asked rhetorically, raising an eyebrow again. "What reason do I have to lie? Maybe you should ask your two friends here where they would be, had I not helped them escape. I can tell you where they wouldn't be: alive. No, my grandfather witnessed Brom in action many times, and decided to pass the tale down because of how impressed he was."
Murtagh scoffed at one section of his words. "We would have escaped eventually. With the power Harry received in disabling the wards they were no match for his strength. But yes, you did help us, and not just in stealing the eggs."
"So you managed to steal both of them?" Brom asked, his gaze never wavering. He tried not to catch Eragon's eye and wanted to avoid his ever-approaching story for as long as possible.
"There's only one egg," Harry said from across the fire.
Brom's eyes snapped to him. "What are you…?"
Eragon saw his eyes widen and quickly followed his line of sight. What he saw there rendered him speechless. Murtagh smirked.
"I did try to tell you twice."
Harry had eyes only for Saphira, whose lingering and penetrating gaze hadn't left Harry since she landed. Perched on his shoulders with wings spread wide, was one of her kin. Her mind had been in overdrive since arriving, and she had completely zoned out the conversation of the humans. She couldn't even guess what they had spoken of. The little dragon was staring right back at her, but promptly hid its head behind Harry. Apparently it was quite shy for one of her kin.
Eragon felt Saphira's euphoria soak through him like the full power of the ocean's tides themselves. He grinned madly, hardly even knowing what he was doing. He had never felt her so happy, and the incredible feeling was both majestic and truly infectious.
Harry looked mightily impressive. Any observer could have sworn he was at least a foot taller than usual, and as the dragon was play-hiding, they could also have stated he had a pair of green wings and a tail. His eyes were fixed with a determination Eragon had never before seen, and he knew this was finally the real Harry. Something had happened. After months of a friend he had found to be strangely emotional and reclusive for a young man, Harry had finally stepped out of his shell, and would never retreat inside it again. They had nudged him towards doing so, but now he had achieved it himself.
Brom was also delighted. This man was the leader he had seen inside his head for many weeks now; one who would go to any lengths to save the land from destruction, and who could display characteristics of the most wise Elf still living. Brom's leadership probably let him step back too much, and take a smaller role that never let him show his true potential. That would clearly never happen again.
Harry smiled, and his next words brought great laughter to his companions.
"Let's fuck up some evil kings."
Brom dispelled Eragon's questions heatedly as the group rode away from the scene, travelling southeast. They would have flown, but Harry doubted Saphira could carry so many at once, and nobody had any desire to leave someone behind. Finally, they picketed the horses beside a scattering of large boulders on the edge of the Hadarac Desert, where the ground was hot and barren.
It took an hour of careful and analysed speech, but finally both tales were told, and Brom personally explored Nyos' mind, making him swear oaths of secrecy and protection in the Ancient Language. He finally relented and admitted the turncoat general meant no harm – well, to them, at least – and even thanked him greatly for his help. He, Eragon and Saphira were shocked at his retelling of events in Urû'baen, namely how the entire city had been levelled.
Brom winced. "As much as I applaud your enthusiasm, that wasn't a very good idea. You've made a lot of people homeless with your actions."
"Only people loyal to the Empire," Nyos pointed out. "Those who oppose the king will find residence with relatives or be taken in by King Orrin in proper, working conditions."
"If they don't freeze or starve to death," Eragon observed.
"The man I left in charge of the refugees if one I would trust with my life," Nyos said quietly. "He will take good care of them. I guarantee it. Of course, some of the nobles and many soldiers remain loyalist to the king's cause, but they fled after realising the city was beyond saving. The poorest farmers and heaviest taxpayers all deserted rather quickly."
"What about the elf?" Murtagh queried after a brief silence. "She looked hurt."
"She is hurt," Brom remarked. "Durza was probably torturing her for hours on-end about anything he could think of on a whim."
"That bastard! I'll have his heart on a stick for this," Eragon growled, surprising Murtagh greatly with his venom.
Hmm… I wonder if he's enamoured with her... I think I'll stay even further away from her then, just in case. There's no need for any conflict here. I have no interest in her romantically.
Brom rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder for a moment, nodding gently. "I know how you feel, Eragon. The king and his servants all have a lot to answer for."
"Can we help her?" Harry asked quietly, trying to fight off a grin as the little dragon hatchling struggled to climb onto his shoulder. It finally managed the act and sat there, perched with an innocent expression on its face as it studied them one-by-one. Saphira let out a low murmur and it cocked its head towards her, before happily skipping over beside her. Saphira opened one of her eyes and watched it carefully.
"I'm not sure," Brom said. He scratched his beard absently. "I believe Durza gave her a poison known as 'Skilna Bragh', for which the antidote only exists in two places."
"I don't suppose we could find a goat nearby, could we?" Harry asked hesitantly, partially disgusted by the thought.
"No, why do you ask?" Brom asked with interest.
"Goats carry a magical stone inside their stomachs known as a 'bezoar', which will save you from most poisons." Harry grimaced, knowing how much his words echoed those of Snape many years ago.
"Interesting," Brom said with appreciation. "But I don't think that would help us, in any case. This poison is used because it has only one antidote, known as Tunivor's Nectar, which resides only with the elves or the Varden."
"Since we're already travelling southeast, I presume you're leading us to the Varden," Eragon observed. "Is the forest not closer to our location?"
"It is, but their cities are hidden deep within the forest's belly," Brom answered. "I know the exact way to the Varden, so it's the logical choice. One could wander for years without finding an elven city."
"And if she dies in their presence, it would be much worse for us," Nyos added casually.
"Nobody's going to die," Eragon stated flatly. "We're going to save her."
"This is war, boy. People die everyday, and after what happened at the capital, the king will retaliate. As a former captain, I can tell you all about it. I'm not saying she will die – point in fact, I hope she doesn't – but you better be prepared in case the worst does come to pass. Nothing is certain."
"What will the king's next move be?" Murtagh asked, hands clasped together in a thoughtful manner. "If you ask me, he'll target Surda, and that would be trouble we've never before seen."
Brom was alarmed at that. "That hadn't occurred to me, but he needs time to bolster his forces. If he does attack, hopefully the Surdans will have strengthened their defences and reinforced their army. They need to hold out for as long as possible."
"To be honest, it wouldn't surprise me if he begins to slaughter his own people in droves," Nyos observed with a grim expression. "He could massacre thousands of innocents, and threaten to keep doing so if the eggs aren't returned, or if the Riders don't bend the knee."
"Regardless of what he does, we can't turn back now," Eragon said firmly. "Saphira and I would rather die than pledge allegiance to that oath-breaker, and now that Harry is in the same situation things have become even more critical."
Eragon was also feeling relieved about how some of the burden had been lifted off his shoulders, but decided to keep that quiet. He didn't want to seem like a petulant child.
"Why did the egg hatch so quickly?" Harry suddenly asked. "It took Saphira over three weeks to appear after her egg was found by Eragon."
Saphira chose that moment to intervene, and her yawn shook the whole camp. She had been greatly tired after her arduous flying recently. Nobody had gotten much sleep since Teirm, and since yawning was contagious, Harry began to feel drowsy all of a sudden.
Soon, he promised himself. I'll sleep as soon as I can.
The hatchling turned to face him, its sparkling eyes watching him intently.
"I guess I'll have to get used to this mental link, although that shouldn't be a problem. It's almost second nature now, isn't it?" he asked, sounding out each word carefully. "And you need a name. Don't worry, I'll think of something soon, and it won't be anything stupid. I'm not Sirius or my father, after all."
The dragon shut its eyes and fell asleep, starting to gently hum.
"I believe the reason is that the hatchling sensed a moment of supreme comfort or urgency," Saphira declared. "Considering the circumstances, it could very well have been either, if not both at once. I took a long time to hatch because I wanted to get as used to Eragon as possible first, in order to ensure we were right for each other."
"Are you saying… he might not have hatched for me at all?" Harry questioned, thinking the moment in question had obviously been his daydream. The embryo must have felt his mind while it had occurred, meaning that it had chosen Harry as soon as he rescued it. Harry felt his heart warm at the thought, but he also knew his life was changed forever. He simply hadn't got used to the feeling yet, although it was similar to when Hagrid first told him he was a wizard.
"Dragon lore is complex at best," Brom said wisely. "One thing we do know is that a groomed dragon egg will only hatch when it feels the presence of its Rider. It'll wait forever if it has to. This points to several possibilities, most notably that if the potential Rider is killed, another candidate will take precedent."
"So, if I had died, Saphira would have hatched for somebody else," Eragon nodded in understanding.
"Exactly. Harry's dragon may very well have hatched for another if he had never arrived here at all. It could even have been any one of the people around this fire, but since he did appear, the egg detected his presence and fixated itself upon Harry," Brom explained. "It felt his potential was greater than that of anybody else."
"Because of my magic?"
"Possibly, but there really are dozens of potential reasons. Magical strength, personality, age… even gender plays a role for some dragons."
"The egg could never have hatched for you, though," Eragon said sharply, "because you've already had a dragon before, right?"
Brom sighed as he brought out his trusty pipe and lit it on the fire. "I told you that we'll speak of that at another time. It's not a pressing issue."
"Oh, how do you figure?" Eragon asked, almost sounding insulted.
"Well, what's changed? I'm still going to teach you – both of you, now – what you need to know, and I'm still very much the same person-"
"And your nose hasn't started growing longer, either," Harry cut-in. He shook his head and held up his hands at the incredulous looks sent his way.
"Anyway… the only thing that's changed is you knowing something about my past that you previously didn't. Maybe if you weren't so bloody curious we could keep this under wraps for a little while. And don't mention it to anybody when we reach the Varden," he added intently, pointing his pipe dangerously at the young man.
"Fine," Eragon said in the same tone as Brom, causing the old man to roll his eyes.
"Do you have a name chosen yet?" Murtagh directed at Harry.
Harry shifted uncomfortably. He had been thinking about this. "Well… not quite. I know how strongly compelled I was by my saving grace a while ago, but I'm starting to doubt what really happened. Dragon hatchlings are incapable of speech at first, so it stands to reason that eggs are essentially unborn babies, in a way… how could he have spoken to me, but not be able to do so now?"
"It's a mystery," Brom said lowly. "Dragons are capable of magic we can barely envision at the best of times. Half of the time, they don't know what they're doing themselves."
"Then why did he tell me he already had a name?" Harry asked, perplexed. "And what about the voice that spoke to Eragon? There must be something else going on we don't know about."
He directed that last sentence specifically at Brom, accompanied by a knowing half-glare, half-questioning look. Brom had taken too many liberties in keeping secrets from them, and Harry really didn't want to have to deal with another Dumbledore. Sure, he was wise, but he was almost certainly bat-shit crazy. Thankfully, Brom was not… he hoped.
"If there were other dragons in the world, I would tell you," Brom stated flatly, narrowing his eyes at Harry's accusatory expression.
"What about an ordinary magician?" Murtagh wondered.
"If his defences were activated, there's no chance they could have entered his mind without an invitation," Nyos said with a shake of his head. "Even Galbatorix would have to batter his defences to gain entry."
"They were definitely up," Harry said sheepishly. "But in any case, I don't believe this dragon is the 'Fírnen' I encountered. I'll think of a different name."
Eragon looked at the emerald hatchling and smiled, remembering Saphira being that small. The partner of his soul felt the memories and radiated joy at how he remembered them so precisely.
"How could I ever forget? Meeting you was the happiest moment of my life." He said, leaning his head against her foreleg. He felt her happiness at that statement.
"I can't remember everything from then, little one, but I do know that I felt happy just being with you. I was even littler than you are now, and knew you would protect me."
"You know I'd protect you from the Gods themselves, even if they aren't real."
"So you no longer believe?" she asked with genuine surprise.
"Well… I'm not saying that, but don't think I haven't felt any doubt. I just haven't had time to think about it since Teirm. So much has happened in only a couple of days."
"I agree. I'm not sure if Harry should persist in casting those 'air-light' charms, however. They make me feel unnatural, as if I can't control my own body comfortably."
Eragon frowned. "Really? I'll mention it to him."
"It can wait. Now, you need to rest."
"I shall, but tell me one thing: how do you feel about… 'this'?"
Saphira paused to consider the question. "I feel rather like an elder dragon who must protect her young, but I know what you mean. There is too much of a difference between myself and the hatchling to even consider him a mate at this point, so that can wait until we are closer together in size and he is older."
"How do you know it's definitely a 'he'?"
"I felt his mind," she replied simply, and he nodded in response.
Harry yawned widely as he watched Eragon fall asleep, knowing that he and Saphira were having a private conversation and not wanting to intrude. He looked over at Brom questioningly, who nodded, as if to say: 'I'll take watch'.
I know what it's like talking to Saphira, but I wonder how it feels to be connected with someone so strongly. Well, here's to a long and happy life of finding out, he thought, before drifting off entirely.
The thought that he was now immortal in age never even crossed his mind.
Galbatorix stood in front of a smoking mass of wood and broken metal, staring into space as he struggled to contain his fury.
He had arrived back at the city after several hours of flying, expecting his guards to have captured the thieves. Instead, what greeted him was destruction on a scale so large it had visibly shocked him, something which had not occurred since his first dragon had died a very long time ago.
The king stood outside, seemingly impassive now. He had collapsed the walls to see the extent of the devastation, and had then frozen in place for over an hour.
He was, quite simply, in a state of shock.
How was it possible?
How could anybody have breached his wards?
How could they have known where to find the eggs?
How could they have escaped?
And, how the hell could they have destroyed the city so quickly and so simply?!
He ground his teeth, feeling his fingers clench of their own accord around the hilt of his sword. He would kill them all for their insolence, except the Riders that would undoubtedly come of this travesty. They he would subjugate, and delight in torturing a thousand times over until they paid for this sin. But he would kill everybody else. The guards who deserted, the people who fled… they would all suffer grievously for this betrayal.
As he stood there, trying to fit the pieces together, Durza reappeared at his side. The Shade's additional power meant that his returns were generally much quicker than normal, unluckily for him. Galbatorix rounded on him as soon as he materialised, his eyes flashing in pure rage.
"You! You detestable little piece of shit!" The king growled and punched the Shade as hard as he could in the stomach, sending him flying over twenty feet. Durza lay there, sprawled out, as he coughed up a mouthful of blood, before rising to his knees.
"M-my lord, I can only crave your pardon."
Galbatorix drew his sword and held it directly in front of where the foul creature's heart was. "You're lucky I still have some more use for you, or I would kill you now for losing the elf and my eggs."
"But, sire, I was not here at the time," Durza protested quietly, knowing it was possibly the prelude to digging his own grave. He would have offered to immediately track down the boy, but he had somehow lost the presence. It was as though his mental strength had increased beyond measure, and something was blocking the Shade as a result. The king seemed to know it as well.
"The Ancient Language oaths!" the king screamed at him. With a roar, he whipped around and threw a massive fireball towards the group of noblemen who had stood there, engulfing them in flames.
The men's screams cut through the early morning air in a manner that would raise hairs on the back of the neck, and they slowly melted from the inside out. Durza watched as the flesh was liquidised around their bones, leaving nothing but puddles of human remains behind. He flicked his gaze back to the king, who was glaring at him now, and then to the ground, swallowing in fear.
"Explain to me how my elite guards… were able to betray me!" the king shouted.
"My lord, I…I have no idea."
"No? Shall I enlighten you, Durza?" he asked menacingly.
"N-no, sire. T-that is, I c-can think now… of why that is," Durza said fearfully.
"Then tell me. But know that every time you displease me I shall break a bone in your body," he spat.
Durza almost shivered in fear. "I…I did not gain Ancient Language oaths from the ordinary soldiers or the general that I-."
SNAP!
The king used magic to twist the Shade's arm behind his back, before wrenching it so high and wide that the bone was wrung in two.
Durza screamed in pain, howling miserably as a burning ache threatened to overwhelm him with pure, unfiltered agony.
"I find your screams most annoying and that also displeases me," Galbatorix said flatly, before repeating the process with his left arm.
Durza choked down his cries as the pain doubled, and instead let his breath come out in quiet sobs.
"Oh, come now, that is hardly behaviour befitting someone with such power," Galbatorix said in a nasty tone of voice.
CRACK!
With a slight push of his will, Durza's kneecap popped right off. Howling in anguish and visibly crying now, the red-haired demon fell to the ground, unable to stand. He tried to use magic to heal the injuries, but the king did not allow it.
"Trying to get out of punishment is something that I hate!" he growled, before turning his flat palm ninety degrees.
Durza's other leg responded to the movement by twisting until the leg bone broke in half.
Galbatorix was starting to get seriously annoyed by the Shade's screams as they intensified again, so he decided to forcefully remove his tongue. Durza began to choke on his own blood and tried to twist his head to the side in order to spit it out, but the king saw that coming and kicked him in the cheek, breaking his jaw so badly that fragments of bone were sticking out of his face.
And so Durza lay there in a pool of his own blood, nothing more than a broken mess. He was making a series of horrible strangling noises, unable to do much else.
"Let's see how long you can last there," the king suggested with a sneer. "If you heal yourself or kill yourself to ease the pain, I will torture you over and over until the Sun burns itself out. If you try to flee or make any sound at all, I will run you through with this sword."
Durza lay perfectly still, knowing his breath was coming out as a pained wheeze. With the blood starting to accumulate, he purposefully used his nail to stab himself in the neck, making a small hole for air to enter through. He almost prayed for death.
The king watched him for a moment, before turning away. He obviously should never have trusted the Shade in earning the loyalty of the soldiers. He made a mental note to have every future recruit swear fealty to him, and to abide by an Ancient Language contract that stated they would die if said loyalty was broken.
But still, the damage was done. He had already sought out the eggs with his mind, but they were gone for definite. His citadel was in ruins, and his treasury was probably empty. The only good thing to come from this was that he had kept the hoard of Eldunarí hidden outside of the city. He was certain no one would ever find them, but he had also felt certain the eggs were unreachable.
That thought brought with it a stab of doubt. How had they gotten through his wards? He had personally erected the barriers, so their strength was unmatched. If someone had broken them down with such speed and without setting off the traps… it could only point to the existence of an incredibly powerful foe, and that possibility couldn't be ignored.
He remembered Durza telling him about the boy travelling with the Rider. He had mentioned how this boy would become more powerful than the Rider himself, courtesy of his meshing two different forms of magic. If that boy ever became a Rider to boot…
Galbatorix blinked, and then visibly shivered. For the first time since ascending the throne, he felt a module of fear and panic combined. This boy could rival him in strength if he played his hand of cards correctly, Eldunarí or not. He had to be eliminated. There was no other option, even if he did become a Rider.
It would be a loss, of course, but a necessary, justified and measured one at that. The other male dragon and the female could breed, so there would be no lasting harm done.
No matter what happened, he needed to find out that Word immediately. The Canderin magicians were several days off, but he wouldn't use them to create Shades anymore. This whole incident had shown him that Shades couldn't be trusted. He needed someone that could be trusted.
I wonder if… no, it's impossible… or is it? Maybe if I reverse the idea of a Horcrux with enough human power and sacrifices…
He smirked to himself. Yes, that was perfect. A little visit from a ghost would cause the Varden to piss their pants, especially considering who he intended to bring back.
"Are you still alive, Durza?" he asked over his shoulder.
A non-comprehensible groan was his answer.
"Good. I'm going to need you at full strength for this." He quickly levitated the Shade off the ground and healed his injuries. Durza looked surprised. "But know this: if you ever fail me again… you had best not return. Run as far and as fast as you can, or I swear I will rip your heart out with my bare hands."
Durza nodded. With a flick of his wrist, the king threw him to the ground again and turned back to the ruined city.
He shut his eyes and began to utter long, complex phrases in the Ancient Language whilst reaching for his power. The effort was simple; the strength inside him was unparalleled. Before him, the city began to contact and reshape itself. Seemingly in an impossible manner, rubble began to fold away into specks of dust. Metal and wood were reduced to hundreds of times smaller than normal, all combining to form a perfect sphere of black and brown that hovered above his palm, twisting and spinning continuously.
In a few seconds, an entire city had been vanished, and now rested upon the palm of Galbatorix's hand. He thought quickly, deciding to check the Eldunarí before deciding where to build the new fortress he had in mind. It wouldn't be a simple city, but a massive dome of impenetrable steel, reinforced with magic so powerful it would make the earth beneath it tremble.
He then proceeded to mentally seek out his secret stash of Eldunarí, hidden where only he knew. He nodded to himself, satisfied that all were accounted for, and turned back to the pathetic little pissant behind him.
"Come. Show me this new ability of yours," he commanded. "We're travelling to Gil'ead while I plan how the hell to retrieve those eggs. Tracking them through the desert is impossible."
Durza hurried to his side. "It's a trick I inherited from the boy I absorbed, sire," he quickly explained unnecessarily. "If I may, sire," he said, indicating his outstretched, bloody arm.
The king was reluctant to take it, but did so, eying the Shade suspiciously.
Then, with a loud crack, they disapparated.
Harry was awakened by Brom shaking him. He wearily opened his eyes, feeling the lack of sleep over the past few days culminate in s near-feeling of exhaustion. He almost panicked as one of his eyes didn't seem to open, but then remembered, and instead felt depressed.
The little dragon, feeling his pain, sat on his lap and rested its head against his chest, bringing a weary smile to his face. Nearby, Brom was now hastily destroying all signs that they had been there.
"We have to keep moving," he announced. "We still have a few days of hard riding ahead, and that's only if we keep up this greater pace."
"We're one horse short now," Eragon pointed out. He had clearly been awake for some time now, and looked surprisingly refreshed. "I'll ride Saphira and Nyos can take Cadoc."
"Fine, but don't fly too far ahead," Brom said dismissively. "We need to stay together. The closer we get to the Beors, the more dangerous creatures we're sure to encounter."
Murtagh had barely slept at all the previous night, as his mind combed over the details of what the future would now hold. Whilst a lot of people wouldn't comprehend the situation, he was fully aware of the danger the entire land was now in. "What are you planning to do about a source of water?" he asked Brom. "Desert tribes keep their wells hidden and there are no lakes or rivers for hundreds of miles."
"I can handle that," Harry said groggily, as he stood up and stretched. Reaching for the energy now stored in his wand, he used a little to wash away the desire to sleep in his mind and instantly felt fully awake.
"You should start by filling the waterskins now," Eragon told him. "We might need them during the day."
Harry noticed that Eragon seemed more decisive than ever before, and could only put the change down to the appearance of the elf. He noticed the young man was making sure she was tightly and safely strapped to Saphira's underside, who growled in annoyance.
"This is the fourth time in ten minutes. Hurry up and get on before I fly away and leave you here."
"I'm just making sure she doesn't fall!" he protested.
"If she does I will catch her, or have you so little faith in my flying abilities?"
Eragon grumbled, but didn't deign to respond. That was a classic trap where the options were either admitting that he didn't and possibly being swatted for his trouble, or admitting that he did and losing the argument. Instead, he walked around and climbed on top of her back. He shook his head when Harry approached.
"Don't cast the charm again. Saphira says it makes her feel out of control."
"Really?" Harry asked in surprise. "I see… well, I apologise, Saphira. I had no idea that would happen or I would have told you."
Saphira inclined her head to show that he was forgiven, and he instead turned to the waterskins, casting Aguamenti at each in turn.
"Great, so that's another charm I can only use sparingly."
The emerald dragon looked at him curiously. He was going to deliberately utter his thoughts across their mental link, in order to help him learn how to speak as quickly as possible. Simple words alone had taken weeks for Saphira to learn, he remembered.
"I know Saphira said she felt your mind, but I'll ask, just in case. You are male, right?"
The dragon seemed to assure him that it was.
"Okay… well, I'll think of a name as soon as I can, and then I'll see if you like it or not."
Harry finished with the waterskins and threw them to their respective owners, before attaching his to the secure belt around his waist. He then checked every other piece of equipment he owned, taking care to search through his bottomless and weightless pouch. His fingers absently brushed against the spine of a book, which he hastened to remove.
"I'd forgotten about this," he admitted, recognising the purple tome as the one he had stolen from the king's personal library. "Brom, could you take a look at something for me, please?"
Brom mounted his horse and nodded, prompting Harry to throw the book up. He hesitated, not wanting it damaged, but decided to trust the old man and tossed it over. Brom caught it with ease and carefully scrutinised the title.
"Hmm… where did you get this?" he asked with interest.
"Galbatorix's library."
Brom's eyes widened in shock. "His own personal library?!"
Harry merely nodded, causing the former Rider to scoff.
"Well, I must admit this is a rare find. The title is definitely in the Ancient Language, but I have never heard of either word before. By the looks of this, it has never been opened before, and I don't recommend you start reading it now."
"Why not?" Harry asked, climbing on top of Godric. He extended his arm and mind simultaneously. In response, the hatchling tried to glide over to him. It didn't quite make it, being unaccustomed to its wings, and could only stand beside the horse, looking up at him with a sad expression.
Harry rolled his eyes in amusement and leaned down to pick it up. It immediately felt happier, causing him to grin. Harry's senses were definitely elevated by this new bond, and it truly felt great. He would undoubtedly worry about negative emotions as time went on, such as fear and pain, but for the moment he was content.
"Books written in the Ancient Language can have great power. Sometimes they are even useful spells, but other times… they are cursed," Brom said. "You may lose your vision entirely when you open that book, or you may be inflicted with a desire to kill people."
"Sounds risky," Harry deadpanned.
Nyos shrugged on top of his horse, lighting a pipe of his own. He was now dressed in simple travelling clothes, and Harry noticed his armour was lying discarded among the fire. "It could just make you run around villages naked, screaming about how fairies are trying to steal your soul."
Harry choked on the water he had decided to drink at that very moment. "Eh… I think I'll put it away," he said, taking it back gingerly and hastily stuffing it into his bottomless pouch. In a moment of inspiration, he drew his wand and blasted Nyos' armour into oblivion to protect his presence, earning him a grin in thanks and startling the hatchling beside him.
Being on the very edge of the desert, there was little by-way of vegetation and wildlife, to say nothing of the lack of cloud cover. Spring it may have been, but Harry could only compare this to the stories he had heard of the equator. The Sun was beating down around them relentlessly, casting its imposing hue of near-deadly heat over the entire surrounding area. It was somewhere between early morning and noon, so he knew it would only get much hotter in a couple of hours. Brom had obviously wanted to get a head-start before that occurred.
Harry responded to the slight cries of the hatchling by digging around in the pack he attached to the side of Godric and producing enough meat to feed himself for an entire week.
"Be careful with that," Brom warned. "I meant to say to you a few days ago that the meat you replicate doesn't appear to be as fresh as the original cut."
"It's probably an elevated transfer of bacteria," Harry replied, frowning. "I need to practice the spell a little more to remove the impurities."
"What's 'bacteria'?" Murtagh asked, slowly trotting Tornac over beside him.
"Bacteria are… well… I don't know enough science to put it into words. I can only tell you they're what cause food to turn rotten if it's exposed in open air for too long, although there are also good forms of bacteria inside your own body."
"Riders learned long ago that tiny life forms caused that to happen," Brom explained. "Your people must just have named them differently to our own."
Harry nodded. "I'll think of a way to stop them from having an effect or to eliminate them altogether."
Saphira snorted. "Dragons have stronger stomachs than you little humans. Such things do not bother us."
Harry took her word for it and, very carefully, began to feed the dragon every scrap of meat he could personally find. He almost lost his fingers several times during the process. The hatchling then decided to curl up on his shoulder and fall asleep, which would make the day's riding quite a bit harder.
Harry grimaced. "He's digging his claws into my back," he grumbled.
Eragon laughed as the group set off, with Brom in the lead. "Welcome to my world," he chuckled, before Saphira took off.
"And what a world it is," Harry muttered across his new mental bridge.
He received a slight cry of acknowledgement.