Chapter 2-A Protagonist Makes a Habit of Fainting
Flynn's eyes flickered open, shutting just as fast in the harsh contrasting light. He could hear voices, both with strange accents which he had never heard before. Irish?
"Brom, he's waking up!"
"Yes, I can see."
Flynn opened his eyes again, slowly this time. His eyes adjusted to the contrasts of the plain and his nose was filled with the scent of moist earth. Everything throbbed. A portion of his ribs had a sharp pain running through them, absolutely burning. Yep. Those are broken. Those are very much broken. He groaned pathetically, making a half-hearted attempt to move before losing all resilience.
There were people around. They were looking at him. Fuck. His mouth was dry, his tongue felt thick and everything was heavy. However, speaking seemed the only option considering the situation. "Wa de…zish ish akward. Ne-" Bloody work for me mouth! He took a moment to get his sore, chapped lips moving again. "Um… hi. Look I'm sorry, but what on earth is this place, and how did I get here?" Although he could not sit up without igniting a pain in his chest, Flynn's vision flicked toward the man speaking. He was almost elderly- late middle age perhaps- with a beard and dressed in some sort of brown medieval garb. What the hell have I gotten myself into?
"You are on The Great Plains." There was a note of caution in the man's voice. "We do not know how you got here: you fell out of the sky, as best as we can say."
Once more Flynn caught site of the brilliant blue. This time however, it had shape. The glittering was caused by light shining off thousands of hard scales, and the creature that sat just a few meters away…
Flynn's eyes rolled back as he fainted for the second time in a period of three minutes.
Waking up didn't hurt as much this time. He managed to muster the power to sit up, although he immediately regretted the action as pain lanced around his chest. Flynn's normally logical mind had gone into overdrive as he stared at the creature.
"That's… that's a dragon. A dragon…how on earth…"
He took a moment to collect himself, before turning to face the man. "You're Brom aren't you?" The man stared at him with some surprise and part suspicion.
"How do you know this?"
"You mentioned it earlier. I think. Yes, yes you did. I'm Flynn…um, Flynn Mansfield." A sneaking suspicion began to worm its way into his mind. He turned to look once more at the dragon. "You must be Sapphire no, that's not quite right-" his eyebrows scrunched as he tried to remember something from long ago, when he was but a teenager… "Saphira! Aren't you?" Flynn now turned to the boy, no older than sixteen, who been ignoring. "And you, you must be Arago-Eragon. I'm not going crazy am I? Please tell me I haven't… actually please do, that would make more sense than- this." A wild gesture at the surroundings was followed by a wince. His head was slowly clicking into gear, a filter starting to come over his speech.
"How do you know our names?"
Yet he was still too dazed for the filter to function efficiently. "Oh, just something I read…I'm not quite from here. Ala-dooby-wassit, I mean. It's umm.. it's complicated." He bit his lip to prevent laughter, the insanity of it all flying straight over his head.
I am in a fictional world. I remember these characters from when I was like… seventeen. I know their futures. He reconsidered this statement. I have a rough, half-empty knowledge for what their futures hold. And I am in the middle of a big plain. Talking to the main characters. Who probably think I am absolutely insane and view me as potentially hostile. His first thoughts acted as if all that had happened was real. True proof of his low-functioning state. Soon though, logic arrived and refused to accept the projection.
It's a dream. I'm in pain because I'm in pain in real life…or maybe this is the afterlife. The latter was a depressing thought.
He entertained the thought that he had simply fallen asleep on the plane, just as Tran had, but dismissed this. The feeling of weightlessness, the bile rising in his throat, that could not be mistaken. He could still taste the hydrochloric acid that had marred his throat. The windburn on his arms, neck and face were incredibly painful, as was the case with his ribs. Yet they were no painful to a degree creating unconsciousness resulting in the only logical conclusion that was coming to him... he had to be awake. Dream, afterlife or the many speculations for what it may be, the slight hostility displayed by the ones around him truly needed to be amended. Fast. He could understand why they would look at him with fear, but that didn't mean Flynn wanted it to remain that way.
Flynn's thoughts were barely more aligned than before, but at least he could speak coherently. "Look, I'm sorry for falling out of the sky into your camp. But please let me stay with you, at least for a while. I have literally nothing, I don't mean any harm… and just to let you know, Saphira you are quite possibly the most magnificent being I have ever witnessed- I am not going to go around telling Galbatrix…Galdafix…whatever his name is about you. I'll make an oath or whatever! Please… just please… don't leave me here."
He wasn't sure where the pleading speech had come from. Once the words had left him, he knew they sounded ridiculously pathetic. His voice had this...hideous, high whiny tone to it. It had felt like somebody else had been doing the speaking for him, an out of body experience. Reflecting back, he could even make a monologue on how out of place, pointless and pathetic it was.
Bugger.
Despite this, it seemed as if it had done the job. Or some sought of job.
An alien sensation descended. I like him. There was nothing in his ears, yet he heard the voice in his head. It was as if a thought had been transferred directly into his brain. A great shiver ran through him as he stared at the dragon.
"Saphira, that's all very well but he fell from the sky. We haven't the foggiest what he could do or what that might mean. It's not that I'm completely against it, simply that we have to be cautious. Very cautious."
"I do not think he brings trouble Brom… just look at him. Besides, I trust Saphira's judgement." Eragon had finally spoken. Blimey, he's even younger than I thought… his voice has hardly broken.
As you should.
Flynn was not particularly angry as such- if he had fallen out of the sky, which apparently he had, suspicion was natural. However the day had been long. He'd waited for ages in airport security. Neither he nor Tran had gotten much sleep the previous night due to the New Zealand cold. His plane had crashed, and he should be dead. All in all, he was blatantly exasperated. "Could everybody please stop talking as if I'm a stuffed turkey?" They froze. "Thank-you. Even if you leave me here, I'm following you. I have no idea where to go in this god-blasted place. Besides-" the fact was once again brought to light by a sharp sting, and the feeling of heat on his face"-I've definitely got several broken ribs and bad windburn here. It's not like I can pose a threat."
There was a moment to reflect on this statement. Brom sighed and grunted. "We can take you as far as the next town. It's probably not good for you or us to hang around."
"Thank-you. That's all I need."
With great pain, Flynn rose up only to catch sight of a piece of grey material on a clump of coarse grass several meters away. "Is that my jacket?"
