We've found the last Rider.
It warmed Eragon's heart to hear Saphira's voice through their connection again. It seemed that she had finally recovered from Galbatorix's spell. However, her words puzzled him. What are you talking about? he asked.
The last egg has hatched.
For who? Eragon asked eagerly. Could this really be? Now he would have to keep this new Rider from joining forces with the Empire. That might not be easy.
Roran. He's decided to call him Garrow.
Roran? Well, he hadn't expected that. It was a fortunate turn of events, however. There was no way that Roran would willingly obey Galbatorix, unless of course Katrina was in danger. Scratch that. Galbatorix would know that and the chances of his using Katrina to convert Roran were extremely great. He would have to watch him closely then. What is going to become of the new dragon? Garrow, did you say?
Yes, Roran's named him Garrow. I think Galbatorix wants him to be taught by Thorn, Shruikan and me.
Keep him as far away from Thorn and Shruikan as possible, Eragon advised. We can't afford the Empire's gaining another Rider and dragon.
Saphira agreed. I shall do my best.
There was a short knock on his door and two of Galbatorix's servants walked in. Eragon looked at them curiously. What could Galbatorix want from him now? "King Galbatorix requests your presence in his throne room, Rider Eragon," the first one said timidly.
"Did he grace you with the reason why I must do this?" Eragon inquired curiously. Last time, Galbatorix had let him off with a warning. Now must be the time that he would force him to swear fealty in the ancient language. Too bad he'd already done so to Nasuada. To do the same to Galbatorix would be lying, that was one thing you could never do in the ancient language.
The second one shook his head. "Lord King Galbatorix rarely trusts us with such things. Now if you'll be so kind as you come now…"
Eragon sighed and stood up obligingly. As he followed the men out, he said one more thing to Saphira. Be on your guard. Galbatorix will get nothing from me. I already have my mind set on a plan. I'll tell you more later. Right now, I'm being summoned.
I understand, little one. Be careful. Don't do anything rash.
Don't worry. The guards led Eragon down the cold, stone corridors in silence. Why he had been sent two of them, well the only reason he could think of was that Galbatorix thought he would try to escape. However, that was overkill. His plan didn't call for any sort of escape, yet.
News of Roran and his new dragon, Garrow, was good news. Galbatorix wouldn't hurt Roran, at least not yet. He would do all he could to convert Roran to his side of the war. Hopefully, that would be in vain. Eragon hoped that Roran would be smart enough not to try anything either. He still needed to tell Roran his plan.
After moments of traveling the confusing maze of corridors, the guards led Eragon into Galbatorix's throne room. Galbatorix sat there complacently on his throne with Murtagh at his right hand and two new figures on his left. Eragon would've liked to get a look at their faces, but they wore cloaks that shrouded them in darkness. Both Roran and Katrina were gone.
As Eragon stood in the center of the room, Galbatorix stood and called to him. "I trust that by now you have accepted the inevitable, Shadeslayer. The time has come to pledge your allegiance to me, the Rider King of Alagaësia."
"When will you ever learn?" Eragon asked, unable to keep a grim smile off his face. "I will never join you."
"You are foolish, boy. It is useless to resist. It is your destiny," Galbatorix said forcibly.
Eragon shook his head. "No, it is not. My loyalty is with King Orrin, Lady Nasuada and the Varden."
Galbatorix narrowed his dark eyes. "What are you saying, boy?" he sneered.
"I'm saying that I cannot swear my allegiance to you, at least not in the ancient language, because I've already pledged myself to someone else and I cannot lie."
Wordlessly, Galbatorix raised his hand and Eragon was sent flying to the back of the chamber. No scream escaped his lips; he would not satisfy Galbatorix by letting his pain known, but the pain was nearly unbearable. It felt as if the pain he used to feel in his back was paying him another visit, only worse. As he hit the rugged stonewall at the back of the room, wounds opened on his limbs and blood trickled out. His insides were screaming, howling, but he could not let them out.
"That was incredibly stupid of you, boy," Galbatorix hissed when Eragon finally managed to regain his footing and make his way back to the center of the hall. "Tell me, do you want to die? Why else would you do such a thing? You must have known that one day you would find yourself in my clutches and I would ask you to pledge yourself to the Empire."
"The thought occurred to me," Eragon answered. "But pain is easier to live with than knowing you did the wrong thing, especially on such a large scale. I could never sell myself away to such evil, even if it meant saving my life."
Galbatorix laughed. "Young fool, only at the end will you understand," he said before leaning over and whispering something to the taller of the cloaked figures. The cloaked man nodded and stepped forward with his companion.
When he removed his hood, Eragon could see that he was a man. He was old for a human, with long, gray hair cascading down his back and dull, dark eyes. His skin was wrinkled, but nevertheless he possessed an air of great wisdom and Eragon could sense all the powerful magic coming from him. It was nearly overwhelming. He'd never come in contact with a human that possessed that much power. Not even Galbatorix or an elf could compare with this man.
The strange old man seemed to read his thoughts and let out a low cackle that sent chills down Eragon's spine. "You are clever, child," he said with a voice as disturbing as his laugh. "You know that human beings are limited in their abilities with magic. I am no human." Eragon raised his eyebrow and gazed at the man with curiosity. Not a human? He certainly was not an elf or a dwarf. What was he then?
Eragon became even more curious when the old man drew the sword King Orrin had given him and examined it. "It is a fine blade," he said at last. "But not worthy of serving a Rider, oh no. We shall make you a new blade, one more… traditional… in style." Next, he took out the bow that the elves had given him when he visited Ellesméra. He examined just as he had with the sword. However, this one seemed to meet his expectations. "I suppose the elves gave this to you?" he asked without wanting an answer. "This will do I suppose. I've never seen a bow made with more care than those of the elves."
Eragon was thoroughly confused. Briefly, he looked at Murtagh for answers, but Murtagh was watching the strange old man in the cloak and didn't even look at Eragon.
"I see you are curious," the man said to Eragon. "You want to know who I am, and what I am doing here, eh? My name is Suníl and I am not human." He chuckled. "Few have heard of my race. Our numbers in Alagaësia are too few. I am of the great many who came here long ago from Kylria, a realm far, far, far across the sea. This fortress is my home. Rider King Galbatorix is my master. Not even Rider Murtagh has seen me here before. That is why he is puzzled"
His icy gaze moved to Murtagh. "His former teacher, Rider King Galbatorix, will not continue to lower himself by teaching those who do not want to learn. His Excellency has decided to let the most skilled magician in Alagaësia to teach his new underlings. I only wish the third one could be here to hear this. In Kylria, the ancient language does not exist. Kylrese is the language that we use to do our magic. You will learn it or die. Circe will teach you that."
The second figure removed her hood to reveal a dark-haired woman who looked no older than Murtagh. Underneath her raven-black hair, deeply tanned skin and stunning purple eyes, Eragon could sense all that powerful magic in her too.
"The Rider King Galbatorix has asked me to add to Rider Eragon that Circe and I will find a way around your little oath to Lady Nasuada of the Varden. In time, you will learn to call him master."
No sooner had Suníl finished than two guards ushered Roran into the room.
"Rider Roran," Suníl hissed irritably. "It will do you well to learn how to be punctual. My life is coming to its end and I cannot wait for young fools with not concern for others." Roran expressed his sorrow for being late and Suníl repeated his speech about Kylrian magic.
When he had finished, Suníl gave Eragon his weapons back. "You will use that sword until we can forge you a new one. Now, the Rider King Galbatorix commands you and your brother, Rider Murtagh, to fight for his amusement. Rider Roran is dismissed now with reminders to be on time."
Roran bowed and left as Eragon stared across the room at Murtagh as he drew Zar'roc, their father's sword, and stepped down from the raised platform that housed Galbatorix's golden throne. Eragon raised King Orrin's sword and met him in the center of the chamber.
"Dull your blades," Galbatorix reminded them. "I will need you both when I vanquish Surda and the Varden. Murtagh, do not hold back."
Eragon fumbled with the large sword as he tried to block Murtagh's first attack. He hadn't exactly gotten a chance to practice much with this sword. It was bigger and heavier than Zar'roc and he wasn't used to it. However unlikely it seemed, Murtagh must have gotten better in the interim since they'd last faced. With his heavy sword and painful wounds from Galbatorix's attack earlier, Eragon found it difficult to block Murtagh's ferocious and swift attacks. Therefore, the battle didn't last very long at all.
Murtagh's sword met its mark on Eragon's shoulder. Even though the blade was dulled, Murtagh's strength and intensity brought great pain to Eragon and he fell to the floor grasping his shoulder and dropped Orrin's sword. It felt as though one of his bones were broken. But he didn't cry out in pain; he wouldn't allow it.
Victorious, Murtagh stood over Eragon and returned Zar'roc to his sheath. Without a word, he returned to Galbatorix's right hand.
Before he knew it, Eragon was back in the maze of cold, stone corridors being led to his chambers by two guards. This time, they were needed, one to support him in his pain and the other to lead the way. They left him on his bed and went back to Galbatorix.
You need practice.
Eragon wasn't in the mood to take Saphira's criticism at the moment. Murtagh had an unfair advantage. Galbatorix weakened me and I'm not used to fighting with that sword.
But you are used to fighting Murtagh.
There was another knock on the door. "Come in," Eragon called in exhaustion.
The Kylrian girl walked in. What was her name again? Circe. "Are you okay?" she asked as she walked over to his bed.
"I'm fine," Eragon lied.
She smiled knowingly. "You can't fool a Kylrian. Our magic enables us to see right through your lies," she said. "Now let me help you with that nasty broken bone in your shoulder."
Eragon sighed and decided that it was best to just let her heal it. He removed his tunic so she could have a clear shot at the injury. She laughed. "I appreciate the help, I don't need it."
Eragon gaped at her. "Your magic is that strong?"
Circe nodded and closed her eyes. Within a minute or so, the sharp pain in his shoulder stopped. "You'll need to go easy on it for a few days," she told him as she opened her eyes. "Other than that, you'll be perfectly normal again."
Eragon was amazed. Not even the best elven healer could have done that.
"Is there anything else you'd like?" she asked kindly. "Your first few days in this castle will be rough."
"Can you tell me more about your people? What other amazing feats can you pull off?" he asked letting his curiosity get the best of him.
Circe smiled. "Our most amazing achievement as shape-shifting. As far as I know, we are the only race to ever master shape-shifting."
"You're shape-shifters?" Eragon asked in awe.
She nodded. "It is essential. We need to shape-shift to stay alive. In our natural form, we are albino, sickly creatures that can be very easily controlled. All Kylrians change their shape as soon as they can."
"So is your real shape like our real names? If someone sees you in your real shape they can make you do whatever they want?"
"Kind of," she answered. "Just seeing us in our real form won't do anything. The manipulator has to be strong enough to keep us there, to stop us from changing shape. We're only controllable when we're in our real form."
"When did your people first come to Alagaësia?"
"A very long time ago."
"Why haven't I heard of them then?"
"A long time ago, before the Elves fought the dragons, they fought a brutal war against the Kylrians. We Kylrians may have superior magic, but put a weapon in our hands and you'd probably be better off with a human child fighting. My family was the only clan to survive and since then, we've been afflicted with disease. My father and I and the only Kylrians left in Alagaësia."
"But if you have superior magic, how can Galbatorix control you? Why don't you overthrow him?"
"Only my father is stronger than Galbatorix because I'm only half Kylrian. My mother was a human. My father is too afraid to speak out against him because Galbatorix will do something horrible to me. He is continually draining my father of his magic and my father is too frightened to stop him. Soon enough, my father won't have any magic left and then Galbatorix will have control over me anyway."
"But if Suníl doesn't have any magic left, then he won't be able to shape-shift, will he?"
"No," Circe answered somberly. "Then he will be nothing and Galbatorix will have complete control of him. Galbatorix grows stronger as Suníl grows weaker. But I shouldn't have told you that."