Chapter 6: Time

'Time…

'Like water, it flows. Like air it surrounds us. Like earth it is firm. And like fire… it has the option to save or destroy.

'Time is life… life is a part of time, but only a part.

'For the two soldiers lying in pools of their own blood, time is death. Time is choice. It is those who choose to exist or part that are the sole importance.

'I wonder… for this soldier at my mercy, which aspect of time will he choose? The mercy… or the execution?'

With that, the nameless one pressed the appendage of the Split-tail softly to the soldier's neck as he held him steady from behind as he softly whispered the continuation of his inner voice aloud.

"Well then, what is your answer?"

"I-I don't know… I don't know w-what you mean-"

"Heh… time… as an option." He told the soldier coldly, almost as cold as the blackened air around them. The persistent sound of the blackened rain of Obscurity falling steadily outside in the courtyard of the barracks. A courtyard that even now was being washed of the crimson death that it contained. "To live… or to die. The choice is simple."

The soldier grappled futilely with the iron hold upon him, a strength inhumanly augmented with both innate prowess given to him by the Gift, and the attributes sustained by the blood bond of the dragon within. Unable to do much, the man became overwhelmed with fear of the death that lay around him, as warm tears flowed from his eyes and down his face. To him, the answer was simple enough.

"I… I-I wish… to live!"

"For what purpose?"

The soldier of the orange flame swallowed, his heart beat dangerous within his chest. The answer wasn't so simple, but there was only one thought that crossed his mind. A thought that he vocalized without hesitation.

"For Galbatorix, and the empire."

"I see..."

The hold was relaxed momentarily and the blade-like tail eased from his throat. For a moment, the soldier had renewed faith. For a moment he thought that the death of his brother's in arms was due to insubordination and failure of loyalty. He thought this and more, right until a sharp pain and swift numbness overtook his throat in a moment that all but felt of nothingness.

Release, but without cause, as his life blood flowed freely from his neck and that that was left of air within his lungs bubbled free of the severed airway, which gave want to cough, yet want of an action never to take place… as the last light of the living world was engulfed in the darkness.

With little to nothing in sound, he slumped to the ground at the feet of the first of the Jrrha. Who upon his shadow cast face wore the semblance of a fleeting smile.

"…time has chosen you unfit.

"Time has chosen your death."

Without another word, neither aloud nor in thought, the Jrrha stowed his weapon beneath the dirt-worn cloak that served to hide his outward betrayal to the world, and crossed the corpse-ridden floor to the darkened storage room of the armory. At its entrance, he paused a moment before disappearing within.

After a short time, he returned with that of a sole silver dagger with sheath, and fastened it to his hidden apparel, along with what little gold pieces he lifted from the dead and their holds.

Then, without further thought or care, he took a torch from the guard's store, and threw it upon the stocked grains and ale.

The rest he left to time's discretion.

Even several leagues away, the blackened smoke hung as part of the blackened clouds in the skies of Obscurity. The only difference existed in that the clouds were of fresh death, and not of death generations past. Past generations that the Jrrha that watched the ascending clouds knew all too well.

'It is irony in its simplistic form that those bearing the orange flame be taken by a flame of a similar color. Should that be a sustaining recourse for all who wear it, then there may just be less who wish to support the empire.

'But that is a day that won't be seen any time soon.

'A pity.'

The Jrrha smiled.

It was a good day. No, rather it was a good month.

As with anything, it took time to do things of any importance. In regards to his own activities, it has been a month of blood. A month that started with the blood of a dragon.

Since then, that day... he had left his mark well in the area that used to be the great forests of the elves. Many of the forts and barracks that saturated the area that helped to suppress and oppress its populace, now lay as cinder upon the earth. All life met, was eliminated in the same manner of choice as he had presented in the event prior. Foolishness that any should die since all he sought was a single answer.

The correct one.

But sadly, not one person was able to produce it. And among the countless people encountered, not a single one bore any semblance to even a hint of the "Gift"... and all had but one soul and a name. Such tidings only made him wonder if he wasn't the only owner of the "Gift" left alive.

At least in the region of the ancient inhabitants. Such that superstition and common sense were high and low respectably, then it was a good chance that any existing users were beyond dead already.

Given that, and his renowned presence, perhaps there was only one option remaining before the great armies of flame came to swallow him completely: The option of descending into the middle empire. The option to set about a quest that would drive his influence into the heart of the matter. That... or seek the least populated areas in favor of finding those most likely to wish solitude.

Either way... it was certain that the journey to come would be great indeed.

South, east, west, and any of the directions between...

Whichever in the end... did it matter? Any and all would be fun to take.

'And since it's like that...

'To strike the heart as one is pushing even the luck of the gifted.

'To circumvent... hack off limbs whilst skirting the outer lying regions...

'Just that alone... could prove to be the best.'

"To the east it is."