Look! We're at chapter 3! Good Job! -pats self on the back-
I don't own Eragon in any way, shape, or form. At least, I don't think I do. You never know...
They rode for a long while, the ever present fog in the valley below. She sighed, this reminded her of Oregon more than she wished it would. Stupid Fog. She hated it. It reminded her of soggy toast and damp clothes.
Suddenly a sea breeze blew away the dense mist, and the city was revealed. The white stone gates of Tierm were in sight, and the sun looked like it would stay in the sky for an hour or two more. Lyre didn't know. She wasn't one of those granola people who knew everything about nature and the likes. She didn't know if she really wanted to be that type of person, but it seemed unavoidable now.
The cities walls were monstrously thick, and the walls were taller than… Taller than a lot of things actually. It small holes (More like slits from this far away) for arrows, and the roofs all looked the same, and seemed to melt into each other. The only clear thing was a giant castle. Huge; Unbelievably so. It was mind boggling that she was seeing an actual castle. That was in use. But when it came to overall inspection of the city, it seemed a little depressing. Like living with your parents for your whole entire life. Too protected.
Saphira was forced to fly in the night, and rest in the day, so she wasn't with them when they first pulled up to the cliff that hung above Tierm. The city wasn't what one would call glamorous (Or was it?). Yet it interested her all the same. Set by the glimmering grey blue ocean, the town looked like something from a medieval fairy tale.
Eragon was mesmerized by the sparkling water, and couldn't tear his eyes away from the foamy surf. "Amazing." He murmured in awe, "Don't you think Fay?" he said, turning is attention to her.
It was beautiful, but she had seen the ocean almost every day of her life, "It looks a lot like an over sized puddle to me." She told him, shielding her eyes from the sun. She pointed to the ships that waved in the dock, "Those big ships could be the leaf boats that I made when I was little." She told him, turning her gaze from the water to Eragon.
He smiled, "I think they're a little bigger than leaves." He said jokingly. She shrugged, she didn't care who appreciated her amazing imagination or not. Well, she did, but that wasn't the point.
"Here" Brom said, pulling out a giant bundle of cloth from the bottom of the bag. She inspected the budle for a moment, expecting something cool to happen. Like a fairy popping out or something. She shook it out, and was amazed with the length. Lyre found herself holding a dark green cloak with woven clasps. "Yours?" she asked (It was long enough). He nodded. That was good. She was just a few inches shorter than him, and it would only graze the ground when she wore it.
"When you got to Tierm, I don't want people staring at your odd garments." He said looking at her converse, "Flimsy shoes too. We'll get you something better." She ignored the insult, and held the cloak on her arm. She rested her fingers on the edge of her lips, "You make me feel like a shamed daughter." She told him, shaking her head.
He chuckled, "You'd be a fairy queen if it wasn't for that monstrous mouth of yours." He said to her. She frowned and ran her fingers though her ash blond hair (She wanted a shower). "Not really." She commented. She wasn't much of a looker.
He ignored her and started to unpack the saddle bags (Elvin jumped out when he opened the flap), "Let's get unpacked for the night." He told them. "Eragon, go get us some dry wood." He told him as he pulled out a matchbox.
_-_-_-_
The next morning we left Saphira on the cliff, and headed down to Tierm. Our horses (With us on top obviously.) trotted up to what I was told was the southern gate. Two lazy looking pike men slouched at the gate. This city was doomed.
I sat on the brown horse (Cadoc) in front of Eragon (Brom, I'm guessing, was playing part as an old man atop of Snow Fire). My dark green hood draped modestly over my head, and my covered lap and feet as I rode side saddle in the front. They got closer, and Eragon said with amazement "How big is this place?"
"Larger than any city you've ever seen." Brom told him.
As they drew nearer, the guards straightened their backs. Lazy fools, she thought silently. She laughed silently at herself. She was already playing her part, thinking in such a medieval way. "Wha's yer name?" asked the taller one absent mindedly.
"I'm called Neal." Brom told them, changing his voice to that of an older man, and leaning to the side like a person without balance. He smiled idiotically, and Lyre had to suppress a smiled.
"Who'r the other ones?" asked the other guard.
"Well I wuz gettin to that. Er' name is Ella, n' the taller one'd be Evan. They'd be m'sisters children. The boy ain't much of er…"
The guard cut him off with impatience, "Yeah, yeah. What's yer business eer'?"
Eragon was the one to talk this time, "He's visitn' and old friend, "Lyre smiled. She was enjoying these accents they were putting on. "I'm along t' make sure he don't get lost, if yeh' get m'meanin sir. He ain't as young as he used to be- had a bit too much when he was young'r. Touch o' the brain fever y' know." Brom nodded with that same stupid grin.
"Right. Go on through," the guard told us. "Just make sure he don't cause any trouble." He said tiredly.
"Oh, he won't." Eragon told him reassuringly as her urged Cadoc into the gates.
When they were farther in, Brom growled and sat up normally, "Touch of brain fever, eh?" Eragon laughed, and said teasingly "I couldn't let you have all the fun." Lyre giggled with him, "Exceptional acting." She said quietly as they trotted through the throng of people.
Lyre had guessed correctly. The place was depressing. Everything was made as if they all expected it to explode at any moment. Stone and slate, narrow and deep doors. She wondered if they had had a recent war or something.
"This place looks ready for a war." Eragon said, asking exactly what she was thinking.
Brom expertly explained the city's protection. Lyre listened intently, hanging on to every word. The defenses were very interesting, and she wished he would speak about it longer.
They pulled into an old building with cracked walls, and pushed open the lousy doors. A woman with crazy graying hair (Like she'd never combed it before) and glazed eyes (Like she was a trippy drug addict) jumped up from behind her counter when she heard them enter. The woman twitched nervously as she opened her arms in a (supposedly) friendly gesture. "Welcome! Welcome!" she crowed happily, "How may I serve you?" she said, her voice making her uneasy. It reminded her of the metal of her pencil grating against her papers when the eraser had run out.
"A coat for the dashing young man, perhaps a cape for you sir!" she said, inching her way up to Brom and Eragon. Brom shook his head, and pointed to me, "I would like you to find a dress for my niece Ella." He said to her.
I pulled off my hood, my hair frizzing back with it. She cackled, and smiled with yellowing teeth. "Yes, yes, I will, and than you will tell all of your friends to see Aunty Melanie, right?" She said, walking to me and putting a hand on my shoulder. My skin crawled where she touched me, and I forced myself not to pull away from her grasp.
She turned to Brom, "There is though… A price." She said, fingering my shoulder gently. Ugh… At of all the people to touch creepily in the room, it has to be me. Why not go touch Eragon or something!?
Brom nodded, "Of course." He said, promising her of the money she would earn. The twitching woman smiled, her disgusting teeth revealing themselves to everyone (I'm sorry, but…I can't think nice in this situation). She hurried to the back of the shop, and pushed back a dank curtain.
She came back with a basketful of clothing. She shoved the basket into my arms, and scurried over to converse with Brom. I picked through it, glad that the readily made clothes were washed. The woman might have been disgusting, but she had brought things that were in Lyre's size.
She held up a chocolate brown skirt, and held it against her waist. That would work. She fingered through the rest of them, and picked out a fawn colored tunic. That worked too. She turned to the grinning woman, and said politely "These will be fine." She looked over to me with calculating eyes, before snapping her head back to Brom and cheerily relaying to him how much it would cost.
He pulled out the amount of coins he owed, and shoved it into her hands. "Would you mind if she changed back there?" he said, motioning with his head to the curtain. The woman cackled, and said that it would be fine with her.
Lyre trudged into the back room, and quickly undressed her old clothes, and redressed in her new (Yet old) ones. Thankfully it all fit well, and she was happy for the change of clothing. As she hooked the moss green cloak onto her throat, the crazy woman entered the room.
Lyre shrieked when she looked back and saw the woman behind her. Creepy woman…She thought silently. The lady (Whom she now remembered was probably named Melanie) handed her a pair of leather boots, string, and a woven belt. "Your uncle told me to give this too you." She said gruffly, pushing it into her hands (Only nice to the dashing old men, eh?).
Lyre nodded, and turned away. She took the woven belt and tightened it around her waist, lacing it in a spot were it could rest on her hips. She than sat on the mulched wooded floor, and pulled the boots up high, reaching all the way up to her knees. She flipped all of her ash blond (It's real) hair that she had grown out to her waist (She always forgot to get a haircut, plus Adora wouldn't ever pay for it, but she managed to cut her bangs across her face for connivance's sake) to one side of her shoulder, and began to plait it into one large braid, She stood up, and straightened everything out, smoothing down her skirt and cloak, before entering the main room once again.
She leaned on the door frame, and crossed her arms, "Am I now worthy of being called presentable?" She asked them sourly. Without the woman (Melanie) in the room, there wasn't any need for her to be gentle young lady any longer.
Brom nodded as he looked her over, "That will do."
Melanie-the-creepy-woman came out of another curtained door way, and smiled sickeningly at Brom, "Do you really have to go?" she asked him seductively, in a cow like voice. Lyre covered her giggles under her palm. She almost felt sorry for the Melanie. How horrible would it be to have a bad personality, and horrible looks? She looked her over, and concluded that she had once been decent though.
Brom bowed his head, and smiled kindly "I'm afraid we have a busy schedule to keep." He told her as Eragon backed out of the room, Brom following close behind. "Bah!" the woman said angrily as Lyre slunk over to the exit, "Every time!" she mumbled, throwing her hands over her head angrily.
Lyre had had enough. This was much too weird, for even her. She scuttled out the door, running into Eragon back/neck area. "Oof…" she groaned as she rubbed her nose. She stopped to look at them both. "Where are we going now?" she asked them as she pulled herself onto Cadoc.
"To find information." Brom said as he urged Snow fire on.
_-_-_-_
"Put your hood on Fay." Brom grunted as they stepped into a Tavern. A rickety sign named it "The Green Chestnut". Lyre pulled her long braid over her shoulder, and pulled the hood over her head.
She understood the moment she entered the bar. It was dingy, and didn't feel right at all. People tucked themselves into corners, and the fire wasn't burning brightly like she had expected it would. Lyre played with the tip of her braid nervously as they stepped up to the bartender, who was polishing a broken glass.
No wonder her hood was up. She barely wanted to walk around in the grimy room, let alone let the grubby men look at her. The people disgusted her. But than she realized how pompous that sounded. These people were poor. And from the looks of the town, she would bet they were probably depressed too. She bit her tongue, hoping that would pay penance for her rudeness. And now she sounded morbid. Great, just great.
She decided to ignore herself (For her own personal safety), and listen to Brom conversation with the bartender. He asked about a man named Jeod, and the guy's whereabouts (The information came for a price of course). He seemed to age before her eye, seeming more and more depressed by the disheartening new of what she suspected was the one they were looking for. The bartender directed them to the herbalists shop if they wanted to find the Jeod person.
This Jeod man seemed like he had a bleak life.
_-_-_-_
A woman with tightly curled hair stood on a stool outside of the herbalists shop, holding a toad in one hand, and writing leisurely with the other. Brom spoke a few words with Eragon, who was wondering which house he could possibly live in. Why not just knock on both? She thought as she stroked Elvin's head. The stupid cat didn't want to settle in the saddle bags anymore.
He walked to the woman, and asked politely, "Could you tell us which house Jeod lives in?"
"I could." She said as she continued to write. Lyre snorted, knowing that this was how she normally acted, Brom could be standing here awhile.
"Will you tell us?" He asked her. Lyre smiled. Wrong question old man.
"Yes." She said as she continued to write feverishly. It was silent for a while, and Lyre could sense the pressure building in Eragon. "Of course I'll tell you!" she blurted, "All you had to do was ask. Your first question was whether or not I could tell you. Your second was if I would!" she said, explaining all that had just happened.
"Let me ask properly." He said while smiling. She guessed he secretly wanted to rip her throat out. "Which house is Jeod's? Also, why are you holding a frog?" Good job old man! One point for Brom.
"There we go!" she said encouragingly, "Jeod's house is over there, on the right. And this frog? He's actually a toad. I'm trying to prove toads don't exist. I want to prove that there are only frogs." She said as she held him up. Elvin hissed hysterically, and Lyre thought he might have been having a seizure.
"How can toads not exist if you're holding one in your hands right now?" Eragon asked, clearly not understanding what she was talking about. "What good would it do if toads didn't exist anyways?"
The woman shook her bouncing curls, and lectured him about how it would make a better society, something about poison, and teeth falling out, blah, blah, blah. Brom slyly agreed (Trying to get away are you?), "I see. But we really must be off to Jeod." He wished her a good day, and Eragon and Brom walked off to the house on the right. Lyre watched them leave. She stayed behind to talk to the odd woman.
"Toads do exist." She told the woman.
She looked up, "And what makes you think that?" she asked her, raising her eyebrow.
"Because when I was little I used to have a pet toad named Muddle." She told her, ready to explain.
"And what if Muddle was really was a frog? We'll know soon when I find out if they really exist." She told her, before scribbling down some more notes.
"I used to have frog too. But he died earlier. My father said it was because frogs had to stay in water, and they couldn't be away for more than a few hours or the dry up. He said toads didn't have to be in the water at all." She said, walking closer to her, looking down at the notes.
The woman stopped writing for a moment, and paused. She looked up, "Really?" she said, thinking it over. "What's your name?" she asked her, looking at her curiously. "Fay." She said, giving the answer naturally after using the name for a while.
"Really?" she asked her. Lyre fingers went to her lips. What did this woman know? Did she guess she was lying? Were crazy people the only one's to see reality like some people say they did!?
She brought her hand away from her face, and lifted back her hood, "My name is Lyre." She said this time, feeling that she was able to trust this woman (That doesn't sound like a death wish…). She looked sternly at the woman, wondering how she could have seen through her.
The herbalist smiled, "Good. If memory serves me correctly, there can't be two Fay's. The other one is long gone…" she said, prattling along to herself. Now Lyre was confused. Two? What was the woman talking about?
"What do you mean?" she asked her. This lady was starting to get on her nerves. Just answer the question. It's not that hard. The woman looked up at her, surprised, "Huh?" she said, her pitch getting high. The woman smiled (Like nothing had just happened, of course), "What's with the sour face? My name is Angela, it's nice to meet you Lyre." She said happily, as she set the toad/frog down on a table beside her.
"Fay!" She heard Eragon call her name from the house beside the store. Lyre nodded to the woman, "Sorry, I need to go." She told her hurriedly as she started to walk away.
"Come by when you have time!" Angela said, calling after her.
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