The lines of dashes are going to be used as POV change
The asterisks are for time skips
"Italics in quotes for mental communication"
Italics without quotes for dreams
Chapter Two - Old Legends
Brom scowled in his home, staring angrily at the spilled container of tobacco. He had not been able to restock recently and now the last of his supply was wasted. He looked over his shoulder to ensure his door was closed and he was alone and muttered "Brisingr," and the mess was swallowed by a small blaze, burning it away in an instant. He sighed and went to open a window to clear the smoke when a knock was heard at his door. He had seen Eragon in town before he returned home and was expecting a lengthy conversation about whatever random thought his son had.
Brom stumbled and caught himself on a chair. His son. His last reminder of Selena and Eragon didn't even know. Brom sighed. Eragon couldn't know, not yet. Brom didn't know when he was going to tell his son about his parentage, but Brom couldn't leave him in the dark his whole life.
He at last made it to the door and swung it open wide, greetings already coming from his mouth when his words died in his throat.
"Brom"
"Arya"
Brom looked around her shoulders and at the two armored companions of his late friend's daughter. They held themselves like elves, but he could feel the anticipation waving off of them. "Come in, come in." Brom hurriedly said, "Were you followed?". "We don't fully know," replied the leftmost figure. Brom nodded while ushering them in, looking around for any pursuers. He turned and locked the door behind them, when Arya turned towards him. "We were ambushed by a Shade in Du Weldenvarden, we knew the only place we could go is here" she said. She then motioned to her companions who removed their helmets. "On my left is Faolin and my right is Glenwing. They are sworn to safeguard both me and the egg with their lives." The elf named Faolin stared at Brom with a look of awe, but Glenwing seemed unimpressed. Brom realized he was correct in guessing the armored men were elves. Brom then realized the final part of Arya's sentence, "Egg?", he asked, not able to believe what he was hearing. Arya removed the egg from her bag and set it on Brom's chairside table.
Brom reached a hand towards the egg, remembering his own dragon's egg all those years ago. Just as his palm made contact with the egg a knock again sounded at his door. Arya lunged for the egg as her companions hid behind nearby furniture. "Brom? Are you there?" called a voice, "It's me Eragon. I was wondering if you could tell me some stories." Arya shook her head at Brom but he could not resist the opportunity to talk with his son. Brom walked over to the door and opened it slightly to verify the identity of his visitor. Outside his door stood his fifteen year old son grinning from ear to ear.
Brom pulled Eragon into his house and shut and locked the door behind him. "Eragon, this is my niece, Rebecca. She's visiting from Dras-Leona." Eragon glanced at Arya, obviously surprised by her beauty, before turning back to face Brom. "What do you say Brom, fancy telling me a tale or two?" Eragon asked. Brom caught Eragon's infectious grin and asked him, "What stories this time boy? Dragons, Elves, magic? The story of the Empire or perhaps even dwarven legends?" Eragon's eyes lit up at this, his head clearly already swimming with questions. Just as Eragon opened his mouth to decide a loud squeak was heard from the now hidden egg. Eragon looked around, not knowing what made the noise. Brom smiled as Arya paled in realization. His son was to be a rider of old, a new hope for the Varden, and a chance at slaying the Mad King.
—-
Eragon heard the squeak emanating from behind Brom's niece, and he couldn't help but think about how it sounded just like the kittens that theri barn cat had one year. Rebecca reached behind a table and grabbed a large blue stone that was rocking back and forth. Eragon started forward, entranced by the stone. Rebecca stared at him curiously and handed him the stone. He noticed that it was heavy but still lighter than a stone of that size should be. As he held the stone, a multitude of cracks started to appear from the narrowest point. Just as he started to apologize for breaking it, a portion of the stone broke off and hit the floor.
A small angular form clambered out of the egg and jumped to the floor. Eragon watched in amazement as the creature licked the egg fluids off itself. Eragon had never seen one but deep inside his being he knew what he was looking at. A baby dragon sat in front of him, gazing into his eyes with the same ferocity of a starving wolf. He reached out his hand, oblivious to the world around him, only seeing the dragon's sapphire eyes. The dragon sniffed at the air and its tongue darted out of its mouth for a moment before it pushed its snout into Eragon's outstretched hand. Just as Eragon's hand made contact with the dragon, a river of fire and ice seemed to erupt into his veins. He had been in pain before but this was agony. He felt himself spasming from the sheer overwhelming force of suffering before his senses failed him, and all he knew was blackness.
It was colder than Eragon remembered Brom's house being, and more smoke-scented than usual. He could hear leaves rustling in trees, and could feel a cool autumn breeze flowing around him. It was then that Eragon opened his eyes, and was instantly blinded by the brightness of the light. He groaned and rubbed his eyes. His head felt light and almost exposed. Eragoon decided he did not like the feeling and tried his best to close the mental opening he swore he felt. He again opened his eyes, this time allowing himself to adjust to the light.
He was in a clearing in the woods. In front of him was a small campfire that he swore was burning with an almost green hue. A pot sat on the coals, with a bubbling liquid inside of it. He blinked again and looked down. Lying next to him was the dragon brom before, its stomach bulging slightly as it slept peacefully. "Good morning Argetlam," someone said from behind him. Eragon turned around, startled by the unknown voice. Before him was a man as tall as Roran, with an angular face and narrow body. The man was almost beautiful, if such a word could be used on a man, and his short brown hair sat still in the breeze. The man offered out a hand for Eragon to shake and said "My name is Glenwing, a companion of Lady Arya's. I was sworn to protect the sapphire egg, and know I offer you and you dragon the same protection,". Eragon was confused at the name Arya, but shook Glenwing's hand nevertheless and replied, "I'm Eragon, son of none. Thank you for the protection." Glenwing looked amused at Eragon's name and lack of parentage but said nothing about it.
"Why am I in the woods, is my family looking for me?" Eragon asked hurriedly, remembering that he was supposed to meet Garrow and Roran at Horst's for dinner. Glenwing sighed before replying, "No, your family is not looking for you. There was a rather unfortunate event at Carvahall, Brom and Lady Arya thought to send you and I out here for safety.". Glenwing's lack of details concerned Eragon. Just as he was about to voice this concern a branch snapped behind him. He spun around as fast as he could, his instinct screaming at him for being snuck up on. Entering the clearing was both Brom and his niece, Rebecca.
"Well then boy," Brom said with a smile, "You decided to join us back in the land of the living after all." Eragon smiled lightly before asking, "What's going on?" Brom's smile vanished and Rebecca turned away. "Eragon, before I begin my story you must know something.", Brom's face grew grave as he spoke, making fear set into Eragon's mind, "Rebecca is not my niece and her name isn't Rebecca." Rebecaa looked at Brom so sharply Eragon could feel her anger from where he stood. "Rebecca's real name is Arya, and she's an elf, along with her companions. Glenwing ,whom you've met, and Faolin, who is out gathering food for your dragon, which by the way is a female dragon if my eyes didn't fail me." Eragon stood like a statue comprehending what Brom had told him. Elves, the subject of some of his favorite stories, were now in front of him, staring at him waiting for his reaction.
"Why," Eragon started, "Is nobody looking for me?" Brom grew evermore somber and replied, "Arya and her companions were tailed by a surviving Urgal they encountered. He was badly injured but still able to fight." Brom walked towards Eragon and placed a hand on his shoulder before continuing. "He found a farm outside of town, the residents weren't home so he made his way in, but knocked over a lantern and set the house ablaze. The residents upon seeing the fire raced to their farm to try to save it." Eragon slowly nodded, unease growing in his gut over his suspicions on the identity of the farmers. Brom continued again this time in a voice so faint it was almost a whisper. "By the time I got there the farm was gone and the Urgal had managed to slay the farmers. I found the Urgal crouched behind their barn, nursing a massive knife wound on his arm. He was no match for me and Arya, but I'm sorry Eragon. We were too late to save them." Eragon felt his eyes water. "Was it Roran and Garrow?" he asked, afraid of the answer. Brom said nothing, only nodding slightly. Eragon tried not to let his tears spill, but was unable too. He started sobbing and he felt Brom pull him in an embrace. His family was gone, taken away from him by a monster. He felt a strange rubbing on his leg and looked down at the dragon, his dragon, trying to get his attention. She looked at him with sad eyes, and he knew she could somehow understand how he was feeling.
"What now Argetlam?" asked Glenwing, again using that strange word to refer to Eragon. Eragon shook his head, he couldn't even think about his future plans when his entire present had collapsed around him. Out of the corner of his eye he sas arya glare daggers at Glenwing for his question before turning to Eragon. "Shur'tugal Eragon, I am Arya, daughter of Islanzadi." She extended a hand as she spoke and Eragon shook it before asking, "Shur'tugal and Argetlam. What do those words mean?" Behind him Glening chuckled before saying, "You ask Brom for stories of Dragons, yet don't know what us elves called the riders?" Eragon shook his head, he had never heard of such names for riders, only ever hearing them described as heroes of old.
"Stop teasing the poor boy, he's had a lot happen today." a voice said from behind him. Eragon mentally sighed at his third surprise person of the day. He turned slightly, and saw another elf, slightly taller than Glenwing with longer black hair, and a rabbit in his elf set the rabbit down by Eragon's dragon, and they watched in fascination as the dragon realized what the rabbit was, and started to rip it apart with tiny teeth and claws.
"Shur'tugal, I am known as Faolin, but you may call me whatever you want" said the elf whilst taking off his pack. Eragon nodded and greeted him in kind before turning to Brom. "What now?" he asked the old man. Brom motioned towards the fire and said, "I'll answer your questions after a meal, but for now I am hungry and I'm willing to bet you are as well." Eragon nodded. He was ignoring it but his body screamed for food.
Dinner for their group was a plain soup devoid completely of meat. When Eragon questioned it Arya told him "We elves do not consume the flesh of animals, and when your dier training is complete neither will you". Eragon's eyes widened. Rider training? He was not even a man yet, how could he go off and be a rider. He had to see to his family's burial and farm rebuilding. Eragon looked at Brom questioningly who merely shrugged and went back to his soup.
Eragon continued to eat his soup and when he and Brom finished their bowls he asked, "Brom, time for answers. What's going on? Why was I brought to the forest instead of Carvahall? What tra–" Brom cut Eragon off and said, "Everyone in town thinks you died in that fire. You and your dragon will either join the King or be killed if you are discovered. You are the last hope for the Varden and the last hope to resist the King and his abuses. So Eragon you tell me, what is going to happen. Will you join the King? Will you fight for the Varden? Or will you forsake your duty as a rider and run away from here, leave Alagaësia, and never be seen again?"
Eragon was stunned. He had no love for the king, but to openly oppose him? Eragon wanted desperately to say he would leave, to run from the land where he had no family and start anew elsewhere. However, the more he thought about it the more he came to the idea of the Varden. There he could help fight back against the King who ruled with an iron fist. As he finished his thoughts he realized the sun had lowered a fair bit, and the elves were staring at him with wide eyes, waiting with baited breath for his response.
"I think," he started not sure of how to express his thoughts, "that I will fight, not for the Varden as some common soldier, but for the Varden as a rider, and I will strive to at the very least remove King Galbatorix from power." The dragon at hearing the king's name hissed which confused Eragon, for he didn't think his dragon knew of the king. Brom smiled again before saying, "Excellent choice, however, I have a better idea." Eragon looked at Brom who said, "We are going to the home of the elves, where you will be trained as a rider in full." Hearing this Glenwing smiled and Faolin started to nod. "When your training is complete then and only then will you join the Varden and strike down the mad king.
Eragon couldn't believe his ears. He would be going to the homeland of the elves. Just yesterday Eragon was accepting of the fact that he would likely be a farmer his whole life, but now he was to be a legendary hero of old, and travel to places unknown to his kind. Eragon grinned and replied, "Sounds good old man, when do we begin?".
Brom returned his smile and threw a large branch at him. Eragon caught it with ease and noted how it resembled a sword, before looking back at Brom. He held a near identical stick, his was just burnt near the tip from being used to stir the coals. The elves all watched intently, silent as a winter's night. Brom shouted "Stand boy, stand and ready yourself!" Eragon did as he was told, adopting a stance he often used against Roran when they used to roughhouse.
Brom crossed the distance between them quicker than Eragon thought possible for a man his age, and delivered a mighty blow to Eragon's left arm. Eragon swung blindly at brom, hoping for a counter attack but Brom was too quick. He parried Eragon's blow and in one move disarmed him and swung again. Eragon grasped for his falling stick, and caught in time to block Brom's heavy blow. Eragon held his sword defensively, not wanting to be hit again. Brom swung over his head, and just as Eragon was about to parry, swung his sword around and hit Eragon in the ribs. Eragon felt the wind leave his body, and his consciousness rapidly followed.
Eragon was woken up by cold water splashed in his face. He swore violently and opened his eyes to see and angry Brom holding a bucket. He held out Eragon's sword and barked, "Get up boy, I don't have forever to teach you swordplay." Eragon winced as he stood, feeling his fresh bruises flare in pain. Brom handed Eragon his stick back and they both took ready positions. Eragon was weary of Brom this time, so he chose not to charge blindly in. "Keep your knees bent Eragon." said Brom, who was shuffling towards Eragon's left. Eragon started to inch his way for Brom, keeping his knees bent as told. He held his weapon in a similar fashion to Brom's, and when he swung in an attempt to hit Brom's shoulder, found that he was able to move his weight better than before. It still did not stop the assault of Brom's weapon, nor did it allow Eragon to land a hit, but he knew it was progress.
Brom continued to batter Eragon for some time, often correcting bad posture and fixing poor stances. On multiple occasions he would redirect a hit from Eragon, and explain why such a move was reckless and dangerous. For two hours the men fought until Eragon fell to one knee and could get up no more. Brom reached a gloved hand out for Eragon, who gladly accepted the help standing. As Eragon was recovering his breath Glenwing looked him in the eye and said, "Even for an elf, the amount of progress you have made in one day is astounding Argetlam," Eragon nodded his thanks, still unsure of how to speak again. Brom walked to the fire, and added some wood before grabbing his bedroll and laying down. Faolin whispered something in Arya's ear before following Brom's example. Eragon stared into the fire as his dragon rubbed against his leg. He reached down and absent mindedly petted her like he would a cat. To his surprise much like a cat she started to purr, a soft noise barely distinguishable over the crackle of the wood. Glenwing looked at the dragon and softly said, "I never thought I'd get to see a dragon hatchling," Eragon looked at him and replied, "Neither did I,". Glenwing smiled and nodded. He slowly stopped nodding and Eragon realized that he too was asleep. He glanced at Arya who was also asleep and he made a decision. He may be going to train with the elves, but not before seeing his family's farm one last time.
—-
Arya wasn't asleep. Instead she sat motionless waiting to see the actions of the new rider. He glanced at her again before silently setting his dragon down by the fire, and snuck out of camp. She had been around humans long enough to know where he was going. He wanted to see the ruins of his family's farm for closure. Arya understood that all too well. After waiting to make sure he was out of earshot she stood and started to follow him.
Eragon was lost for a short while, before he started heading south. She silently cursed. Arya had been hoping that Eragon would be lost, and return to camp. She continued to follow him as he expertly navigated the forest. While she followed him she thought endlessly about the Shade's ambush. It was concerning to think that there was a traitor so high up in the Varden that her location was compromised. Arya was too lost in thought to notice that Eragon had stopped just before a small hut. Arya barely had time to notice, and quickly darted into cover. He looked inside for a moment before moving on. A few paces after the hut he stopped and said, "I know you're there Reb–Arya,". Arya arched an eyebrow. She thought she had been fully silent. Arya stepped out of her hiding spot and into Eragon's view. She hadn't seen his face as she was following but she could tell he only spoke after he was able to stop crying. Tear lines streaked his face, and his eyes were cherry red.
She realized then that she should've followed at a far greater distance, to allow Eragon the time and space to mourn. As he barely withheld his tears, she remembered how she handled the news of her father's death similarly. Without thinking she walked forward and pulled Eragon into a tight embrace. He flinched, clearly surprised, before relaxing in her arms. Arya muttered sweet nothings as Eragon let his tears flow.
As she held him, she looked at the hut and realized it was the remnants of an old shed, the roof had just collapsed. Arya realized where they were. Eragon had taken them back to his farm, but all that remained from the blaze was a charred field, and the nearly destroyed barn. Around where she assumed the house stood, sat two wide rocks, each engraved with some indistinguishable runes. He knew that Eragon's cousin and uncle rested there.
She felt Eragon try to free himself from her embrace, so she let him go. He looked at her with sad eyes and said, "Thank you Arya, for being here," Arya smiled at him before replying, "It is of no consequence Argetlam," Eragon nodded and started to head into the farm area proper. He walked around the remnant of the barn, before heading inside. She stood there motionless, watching for danger while Eragon did whatever he was doing. He came out of the barn from the same door he used to get in, and was carrying a small, yet rugged pack. He turned and walked to where the house stood, staring for a moment at the graves, before walking to a seemingly random spot. She watched him grab a small shovel from the pack, and as he began digging lightly in the ash, wondered what exactly he was doing. He uncovered a second smaller pack, with a long wooden tube attached. He opened the tube, counted an amount twice, and closed the tube. He continued to dig, searching endlessly for some unknown object. After what Arya felt was at least an hour, he let out a small cheer before pulling a second tube from the ground. HE opened it and pulled out what seemed to be a bow. He strung it and nocked an arrow a few times, checking for damage on the bow itself. Satisfied he put it away, attached both tuned to the larger pack, and walked back to Arya.
He looked emotionless, like a soldier returning from a long war. His eyes were no longer red, but they had a look of such sadness it was a wonder he wasn't still in tears. He said nothing to Arya, only tipping his head slightly as he passed her. She followed him back to camp, where their absence was thankfully undiscovered. Just as she was ready to turn in for the night she heard a very faint, "Good night Arya." She turned to Eragin and replied, "Good night Eragon,"
—-
A tall man walked through a field of bodies. Once shining black armor, now dented, rusted, and blood splattered beyond any glory. In his right hand was a two-handed sword, black as pitch, yet glowing with an unearthly light. In his left was the handle and first foot of a destroyed white sword. He walked forward, limping slightly from a wound in his leg. Everywhere he walked, bodies littered the ground and gore stained the world. On a nearby hill, he saw a flag, hanging loosely on its pole. Below was the body of a woman. He rushed forward, moving far faster than his injuries should have allowed. There he saw his beloved, missing her right arm entirely, burned nearly to a crisp. On her left hand was the ring he gave her. Golden to match her hair, and ruby to match her eyes. She was gone. Taken from him. His rage was larger than the oceans themselves. He knew full well who caused this action. The mad king Galbatorix and his slave dragon. The man set his broken sword on the woman's chest before taking the flag off the pole and clutching it to his chest. A loud cry of pain was heard from the man. A roar that was reminiscent of a dragon's. He turned to walk away and muttered, "Brisingr", enveloping the body of the woman with a flame black as night. He walked on, the sun setting sun now dipping below the horizon. As night fell so did he, sobbing in the cover of darkness. He again yelled, this time screaming his rage and sorrow for the world to hear.
Eragon woke with a shout. At the remnants of the fire the elves looked at him with concern, startled by his unusual awakening. Brom wasn't anywhere to be seen, but Eragon wasn't concerned with Brom. Eragon was concerned about his dream. "That felt real," he thought, "but I've never seen or heard anything like that." It was then that Foalin interrupted Eragon from his thoughts by loudly sneezing. Eragon turned towards the now blushing elf, completely flabbergasted. "Faolin?" he asked. Foalin blinked quickly before responding with a nod. Eragon reached into the small pack he had recovered, removed a handkerchief, and tossed it to his elven companion. Faolin chuckled while catching it, used it, then put it in his pocket.
"So Argetlam, what's in the tubes? Scrolls maybe? Ancient texts perhaps? Love letters from some village girl?" asked a grinning Glenwing. Eragon blushed at the last comment, for a week before his hunting trip he had received a letter from a village girl. "Even if they were," Eragon started blushing red as a tomato, "I wouldn't be able to read them." Glenwing's jaw dropped and Faolin's eyes widened. Arya shook her head sadly and asked, "Did nobody teach you your letters Argetlam?" Eragon shook his now lowered head, trying to hide his shame at his illiteracy. Garrow knew how to read, but stubbornly refused to teach Eragon or Roran. Eragon frowned at the memory of his dead relatives. The elves whispered something amongst themselves in a language Eragon could not understand, before Glenwing turned towards Eragon and asked, "Do you want to learn?" Eragon thought for a moment before nodding, still embarrassed but now just slightly less so.
By the time Brom returned, Eragon's head was swimming with the images of each rune in his language. Glenwing had given Eragon a sharp stick to practice in the dirt with, and a list of each rune with its meaning. He was so engrossed in his writing practice he didn't hear Brom ask him something. This angered Brom heavily who took a small pebble from the ground and threw it at Eragon, hitting him square in the nose. Eragon let out an oath, sending Faolin and Glenwing into hysterics while Arya settled for a light chuckle. "I asked, oh great dragon rider, if you had named your bright blue companion yet?" Brom repeated, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Eragon rolled his eyes before replying in a similar tone, "Nay, and it is no concern of the common riff raff what I name such a fine animal." Brom smiled lightly before handing him a list. The list was made of several names Eragon could now read. Before he could ask, Brom said, "This is a list of the dragon names I can remember, and even our elf friends over there wouldn't be able to create such a lengthy list." Eragon thanked Brom and packed up his new writing supplies before sitting down by the old campfire.
There the group sat in a comfortable silence, enjoying the peace of the forest. Eragn enjoyed the peace but knew it was not long lasting. Brom never set down his pack, and the elves were already wearing theirs. Brom noticed Eragon's recognition of the situation and said, "Gather your things Eragon, we need to start for Du Weldenvarden soon if we hope to make it before winter," Eragon's eyes widened, he had forgotten the time of year in the commotion. He quickly walked to his packs, emptying the smaller one so his dragon could rest in it. He put his large pack on his shoulders, and opted to carry the one with the dragon. Inside the dragon got accustomed to its surroundings, and happily drifted into sleep.
The days spent walking through the forest were nice. Eragon would spend the entire day's walk being bombarded with information from Brom. Stories of specific riders and their prowess, tales of strange magics, and a description of every race he was likely to encounter, including shades. Eragon learned about the Ancient Language, and how it was used to bind magic. At nights he would spar with Brom, and when they were done Glenwing would teach him his runes. Occasionally Arya or Faolin would add some information for Eragin to learn, but they slowly stopped.
Eventually, one month had passed on the trail, in which his dragon had grown tremendously. Eragon had become literate in his native language, but struggled with writing the Ancient language. His swordsmanship had far improved, but he felt as if besting Brom was still impossible. The man from his dreams was quickly forgotten to make room for new information. Every waking moment was spent absorbing knowledge or straining his body in some way. He often had to walk with heavy stones in his hands, or do various exercises while supporting the weight of Glenwing. It was Faolin's idea, who found inspiration from some peculiar dwarf he met. Eragon didn't understand what Faolin meant, for he was far too detailed in what was happening, but Eragon enjoyed the strength training. The air got colder with each day, and the group seriously doubted if they could reach the elves in time. According to Brom, they needed the extra distance to hide from any and all people.
One morning when Eragon woke up, frost coated the ground. The elves asked Brom and Eragon to set two tents, one for the men and one for Arya, and walked into the forest. Eragon and Brom did as asked, turning a temporary campsite into a better equipped one. The elves returned at sunset, all exhausted. Brom seemed to know what was going on, but decided to keep Eragon in the dark for some unknown reason. They remained at the campsite for a week, the elves leaving each day and returning only at sunset. Brom kept Eragon working. He taught Eragon new sword forms, techniques that were passed down by only the riders. Eragon soon took the last track of time again, with each day still playing out the same.
It was dawn of the second week at the campsite when the elves didn't leave. They slept in, waking up to Eragon's sparring practice far after morning had passed. The noise of Arya's tent flap opening momentarily distracted Brom, allowing Eragon to do a complex maneuver. All three elves watched in disbelief as Eragoon disarmed Brom, and held his wooden sword to Brom's throat. Brom looked at Eragon, grinning like a drunken fool. "Two months." Brom shook his head still smiling, "Two months for you to beat me in combat." Eragon lowered his sword, and continued to listen to Brom. "Out of every blade wielder I have fought, including our elven companions, only three people have been able to pull a move like that on me." Brom's smile widened, and he started to laugh. Through his merriment he said, "I have nothing more to teach you of swordplay Eragon." Eragon stood still, astonished. He knew he was getting better, but he didn't believe it was by that much.
'
After Brom's laughter had subsided they turned to the elves, who had completely broken down camp and assembled everybody's belongings. Arya was the first to speak, "For two weeks me and my companions have been scouting locations to rest in for winter. We have gone as far North as is advised and found a prime location. There we sang small homes for us all." Eragon was confused. He remembered Faolin mentioning that elves could sing fruit from plants, but he didn't think it would work for an entire house, much less multiple.
The elves led Brom and Eragon through an extremely dense part of the forest. His dragon outright had to fly over certain areas for the trees to form a curtain of wood as far as their eyes could see. Just when the forest grew to what Eragon thought was an impossible density they came into a clearing. A small river rushed through the middle, a line of silver coming from the icy mountains nearby and flowing onward through the forest. Five identical houses sat, each formed inside of a massive tree. Arya gestured to the two houses on the right, formed out of oak and lit from within, and said, "Those two are for you," before walking the house furthest to the left. Eragon went to the rightmost house and opened the door. Inside was a small bed, a desk, and a washbasin. He closed the door and saw it had hooks for both his pack, and his cloak. After settling in he went outside to find his companions gathered around a fire, making what he could only assume was some strange stew. He sat near them and watched as the elves added plants he couldn't identify. They had long since passed the border of what he knew and based on what the elves had said, were a decent amount of leagues north of Carvahall. They ate the stew in silence, and Eragon noticed that Faolin and Arya seemed to avoid each other, but he thought little of it.
After they ate, Brom spoke to Eragon. "While we stay here, you will be training boy. If the weather permits it Glenwing will be training you physically from here on out. Swordsmanship, endurance, everything." Brom then motioned to himself and Arya, "We are going to teach you how to guard your mind and he," Brom then pointed to Faolin, "will teach you the fineries of the Ancient Language. Grammar, pronunciation, again everything." Eragon's shoulders fell slightly, but he nodded in confirmation, after all he would need to be much stronger in order to fight Galbatorix one day. Eragon turned to face all of his companions, and soon to be teachers, at once and asked, "When do we begin?"
A/N
If anyone has any questions, comments, or concerns let me know. I'm entering finals season for my college so If the chapters become slightly spaced out I'm sorry. Ideally I plan on getting at least one chapter done each week but we will have to see.