Ch. 3 Manin
Eragon stared out to the sunrise, his eyes glazed over with thoughts. He knew that today would be the day that he confessed to Arya what had really happened to him and Saphira over these long ten years. But he knew that, for some reason, Arya was not ready for the information yet.
Eragon knew that disaster could strike if he told her, but he had to because he owed her. Everything rested on this.
Saphira flew over, her grace in the air, as usual, astounding Eragon. He smiled at his companion, and Saphira smiled- bearing her teeth in an almost menacing way- back.
Today we tell Arya, Eragon declared, sighing out loud.
About time, but yes- it is going to be tough, Saphira sighed.
Let us go, then, and Saphira dived down towards the earth.
EEE
Arya stared as Eragon set down his food and stare intently back at Arya. His eyes had dark shadows hovering behind them in a gloomy trance. Arya felt chills creep up her spine, she knew that she had pushed him too far this time.
"You really want to know why I left, Arya?" Eragon sighed, "Is that what you really want?"
Arya sighed and nodded, "I need to know, even if the information is too deadly and depressing."
"Then get comfortable. This will take longer than you expect," Eragon sighed and sat down, his eyes still holding that depressed look in his eyes.
Arya nodded, looking intensely back at Eragon, knowing that maybe it would help ease his discomfort. Or make it worse, depending on who Eragon really was anymore.
Eragon sat back and began his tale.
"First of all, Arya, you have to understand that I had been through a lot of pain already, and then almost all who I cared about died. I thought that you were dead, Murtagh died, Roran and Orik died- everyone who was near and dear to me died in less than five months. It was only Saphira and me, and then our mentors Glaedr and Oromis died. Everything broke within us, including our minds. We fled, like animals, away from Du Weldenvarden. Many tried to hold us back in wild, frenzy like attempts, but to no avail. We got away faster than you could say "Stop!" And we flew away, screaming simultaneously in agony, to the North. When Saphira could fly no more, we landed here. By then the screaming had stopped, just pain- endless, unbearable pain, sort of like my scar back when I had it, except this pain was psychological. And Saphira shared it. We grew savage, a hybrid elf-man and a dragon, roaming this forest and plaguing it. I even ate meat, but threw it up later. This happened for, well, we don't know how long. Very long, I know that much. And then we flew farther North, our minds bent on finding an escape, when we found another Rider and his dragon," Arya gasped at this.
"Who?" she demanded, standing up abruptly. Eragon sighed.
"Falenirvre, and his dragon Raneir," Eragon stared intensly at Arya, waiting for any comment she might possess.
"We thought… they escaped the Fall when Glaedr and Oromis were captured… we saw the Forsworn fly after them and we thought they were dead," Arya sighed. Eragon nodded.
"They were very nearly dead. However, they cast a spell on themselves to appear dead. The Forsworn left them alone, and they fled North. We came upon them unexpectedly, but they welcomed our presence and taught us all had learned about the true Nature of… well, everything. They were old, however, and the spell that they had cast so long ago to escape death had weakened them. On their deathbeds, they spoke to us every single Ancient Language word of power that they knew, and died. We did not use them, as we knew that death would come upon us sooner than it did for them. Over the next few years, Saphira and I… changed even more. We are now almost one with the forest, and are finally ready for… what comes soon," and then Eragon sat back, waiting for Arya's response.
"What comes soon?" she asked immediately.
"Du denos fyrn," Eragon whispered.
"The end war? What do you mean?" Arya murmured.
"I mean the end battle of this war. Galbatorix is going to get fed up with all the resistance, and attack. Everyone and I mean everyone comes to fight. All the hidden dragons, all the elves, all the dwarves, all the humans, all the Urgals… everyone in Alagaësia. After the battle, which lasts for weeks, there are only 44 beings left alive," Eragon paused, taking a deep breath.
"Who survives? Does Galbatorix survive? How many of each species…" but then Eragon cut her off by pressing a single finger to her lips, then withdrawing that finger.
"I will answer your questions," Eragon sighed, "just give me time. Being able to foretell the future is a terrible knowledge that burdens Saphira and me," Eragon closed his eyes.
"You can… well, of course you can, how else would you know of Du denos fyrn…" Arya sighed.
"Yes, among the gifts we have acquired we have learned how to see the future. It is a dark gift, and I wouldn't recommend trying to use it. We have given up the practice all together," Eragon sighed, "but not before we discovered what would befall Alagaësia."
Arya nodded, "Of course. Please continue now."
Eragon closed his eyes briefly, then opened them and spoke. "After this bloody, seemingly endless battle, there will be ten of each species left. Ten dragons, ten elves, ten humans, ten dwarves, five male and five female for each species, will be left. The Urgals will be wiped out all together. And then, two dragons and their riders will emerge out of the north and bring peace to these peoples and lead them. Among the faces I did not see Galbatorix or his dragon, so neither survives," Eragon sighed, "and the only ones I actually did recognize were all the dragons, and the two riders."
"Who are the riders and the dragons?" Arya asked.
Eragon looked her straight in the eye, "Us."
AN: Sorry that it's a short chapter, but that's the best place to end it.