Sorry I haven't updated in a while. School's just so chaotic! Well, you may be asking why I'm updating now. Well, I'm kind of having a bad day today-actually a bad week- so I need something to get my mind off of it. Anyway, I have some news on this story. I'm thinking of breaking it off two ways. One for pre-Eragon(pre-book at least) and another for post Eldest. I'll try to post two chapters at the same time in which case; one for one story, the other for the other. Of course, I'll label each side. Another note, the war has been going on for a lot longer then it probably will according to Paolini. I'll also be explaining more on how Angela's prophecies were fulfilled later. Anyway, I'm sure your sick of me blabbing on and on about my life and thing that may happening the future of this story. You want to get to the action, no? Great then. Here's chapter five: Caned Soup and One Total Dupe.

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As the drugs slowly wore of the nurse watched as her patient wake up. He was defiantly one of the most interesting yet peculiar people she had ever had the job of looking after.

He and his brother and his dad, whom demanded him upon his release, seemed to come from nowhere. There were no papers on them; no birth certificates, no security number, not even a finger print or an address.

He was a strange one, coming in screaming deliriously something about a sapphire and evil. He claimed not to remember a second of it. She simply supposed it was a product of the pain.

And no wonder! She had never seen such injuries on a patient without knowing for sure what caused them. One doctor speculated that he had fallen out of a plane or something.

But another disagreed. He explained there was no way he could have gotten such scaring on his legs from a thing. He thought it was some deranged gang move gone askew. They left him for dead, but as it turned out he was still alive or something. And maybe the so-called brother was really a gang member. But then, where did the strange markings in the sand come from?

A doctor she knew named Natty, or Nutty Natty as she was frequently called, claimed it could only be done by a flying beast. She believed the boy had been riding the beast and it had gotten scared and fell out of the sky. He got the full blast of the fall, according to her. When asked about the scaring on his legs, Nutty Natty said the thing could have had scales which carved into his legs. Some of the injuries were also consistent with the kinds of pinches people receive from a saddle when they are on a rampaging horse, bucking and rearing and jumping all the way. It was uncanny, how she could find a completely absurd topic and morph it into one which does make some sense. And there were supposedly burn marks Natty saw when rescuing the boy near the top of the tree line. They'd never know if she was telling the truth though, for that day, someone burned down the forest. It was strange, though. For it was only around the area were the boy fell.

They could only know for sure from the patient himself. And his word wasn't entirely dependable, as his memory may have been permanently damage due to his injuries. Though that was unlikely.

She turned her attention to the awaking patient before her. He turned and looked at her. "Who are you?" he muttered in groggily.

"My name is Mary Jones. I'm you and the rest of this hall's nurse. And according to this chart, you are Edward Moore. Nice, strong name. Do you prefer any nicknames?" she answered him politely. He seemed very confused at first till a glimmer of understanding crept into his eyes, like sparking stars.

"Yes, sorry my head's a bit fuzzy still." He answered quickly.

She knew he was hiding something, but decided not to press the matter. I have plenty of time to learn exactly what that is. "So, what do you like better? Ed? Eddie?"

"Either's fine." He answered politely.

"Now, Eddie, I want to ask you something. Do you know how you received your injuries?"

Edward looked like a cornered rat. He gave no answer, lips not even budging, like stubborn bricks cemented together. It became obvious she would get no answer and she sighed as though something had been confirmed.

"Well, listen. Your 'brother' and 'father' both want to take you home as soon as possible, which is today. They feel you'll heal better in your own bed.

"What ever you do, don't let them take me. Don't let them take me!" He cut her off like a knife.

"Relax, by state law, they can't. Your 'father' was arrested yesterday for attacking a police officer and suspicion of arson and has failed to produce any papers proving you or your brother or even himself even exists. Much less are in any way related."

"Well, can I go anyways?" He pleaded.

"I'm afraid you can't without someone to look after you. Someone in such a condition needs someone to look after them." He gave a grave, solemn look, like her very words condemned him to death. She suddenly hatched an idea. "Well, if you want, you can come home with me. My son just moved out of the house and I am very lonely without him. And from the sound of things, you don't want to see your 'family' right now. It could be fun…"

Of course, he wasn't Edward at all. He was Eragon. Son of Selena and though very distastefully, Morzan. Cousin of Roran. Unfortunately brother of Murtagh. "Edward" took a moment to weigh his options.

On one end, there was stay here, safe and sound. They could not attack him as long as he was here. But chances were, the second he came out the door, they'd be waiting for him, to collect him. He couldn't hide forever within the safety of the hospital. It probably cost money too, which here he was severely lacking.

On the other end, he could sneak out, find Saphira, and with their strength combined, heal his wounds and find a way back to Alagaesia. But this did not come without risk. What if he was too weak? What if Galbatorix found him before he found her? What if she'd been killed? What if she was too stupid to understand? What if he lost his magic? What if he could not heal himself? Finally, the most dreadful thought of all, what if there was no way back to Alagaesia?

And finally, he could go with this woman. It certainly had the element of surprise. Galbatorix and Murtagh would probably be waiting for a long time for him to come out. They wouldn't even realize he was gone till he had back a good deal of his strength. He could find Saphira and secretly heal his wounds under the protection of Mary. Mary also probably knew more about this world then he'd ever. It was the best alternative, hands down. But one thing bothered him. Could he trust her? The sweet gleam in her eyes said yes, but he had learned not to trust from appearance. From Trianna, actually, the little traitor! She had working or the Black Hand the whole time he knew her!

He decided to settle it once and for all. With a big sigh, he gently plunged into her memories…

Suddenly, Mary was being plagued by old wounds, long buried secrets deep within the confounds of her mind and heart. She saw a little girl, crying in bed, her father, zipping up his pants. Then the same little girl, a little older, watching as her parents screamed and yelled at each other. Then the same girl, a little older still, watching as her mother plunged a knife in her father's side and then into her own chest. The same little girl, only she wasn't a little girl anymore, holding a pregnancy strip with a pink positive on it, crying and praying for it to turn blue. She the little girl's son, sweet and nice and caring, packing his bags to leave to college the way she never had. Suddenly the flow of memories stopped and she quickly buried them back within the darkest reaches of her mind.

A deadened expression rest on Eragon's face. He would have never known a single thing like that could happen to such a nice acting woman. And she seemed so giving and caring. He knew he had to trust her now. He had her secrets without her even knowing it. So her tried to push himself up as high as his weakened muscles would permit and looked into her endless blue eyes. They were like the ocean, deep and rich with a beautiful kind of swirling turmoil.

"Thank you, Ms. Jones. I think I will need your help before this is all over." He answered.

"Great! I'll get your things. And here," she tossed him the clothes Murtagh had left him on their last visit. Eragon picked them up distastefully. "put some clothes. I'll check you out and get everything set while you change."

And she left the room with that, letting him change in peace. After some serious confusion on how things went on and a very difficult time trying to rustle his clothes over his many scars and casts, he finally thought he got it right…till Mary came in…

"Dear Jesus Eddie! Did that fall or whatever it was make you forget that underwear go on before jeans? Or that shirts are meant to go with the tag in the back? Now, fix it. I have one more thing I have to do before we go so, you'll be fine."

After some more rustling, some curses and a long and slow journey out the door, they were finally outside. Eragon was in shock. It was so cold he cold, he could see his breath. He shook slightly. Mary took notice of this and frowned. She handed him a thick wool jacket and he silently but gratefully put it on.

He looked around and felt comforted to see he'd made it! He was near the top of a mountain. A massive valley extended bellow him. In it were several small developments and a large, beautiful lake. Suddenly he knew where Saphira was. She'd blend in perfectly down there and not too many people would notice missing fish as they would game.

As before, rainbow ants trudged up the mountain, with greater distances between each one then before though. One sped up the mountainside, passing every ant it ran into, blue and red lights flashing near its roof. It was obviously heading for the other ants stretched out before him. They were massive, all sitting diagonally in a straight line down a white pathway. As he watched in shear horror, one gobbled up a person, roared, and screeched away like a savage beast.

He cautiously followed Mary, knowing if one decided to charge, he had no chance. She approached a deep blue one with a metal key in her hand. It flashed at her hungrily, like the big disgusting beast it was. She went by one side, the beast responding by opening its jaws. To his shock, when she went around the other side, another mouth opened. Before he could stop her, she actually climbed into the belly of the beast. The mouth shut behind her and the beast roared to life, lights glistening to form an evil, gleeful smile.

He tried to turn and runaway when he heard her voice. "Come on, Edward." He could see her just behind the beast's eyes smiling at him.

"In there?" he gulped.

"Ya, does it look like I have any other car?"

He decided to trust her and against his instinct, went to the open part of the mouth. He slowly climbed in. It was actually much more pleasant inside then he had expected. The bottom where he sat was warm and made of velvet fine, despite his thought that it would be gooey and bouncy. He could feel its breath run on him, but he was shocked that it smelled more of sweet pine then hideous wolf breath.

The scent brought back bitter sweet memories. Of something he had not felt in a long time. Of love. Of passion. Of the days in Alagaesia…No, he could no dwell on it now. He had to be strong.

Suddenly it started moving. Only his injuries stopped him from jumping right out of the cars and running to safety. And he still hurt himself a bit from freaking out. However, he noticed something. Mary was controlling the beast. Much like he controlled Snowfire.

Only, this thing, a car she called it, moved move faster. Not as fast as he and Saphira could, but certainly much faster then any horse he'd ever ridden. He saw the countryside pass them faster then he could take much of anything in. But the truly amazing thing was it didn't feel like they were going much faster then he could run.

While he marveled at the car, Mary marveled at him. She got the sense that he was much, much older then he appeared, yet he held the world with a child's curiosity. Wanting to know more about this different boy, she tried to break the ice.

"So, where were you originally from?"

After what seemed like ages, as the boy was still marveling at the car, he answered, "A small town in mountains much like these, only bigger. It's called Carvahall."

Suddenly, before she could respond, something hit her like lightning in her brain. The image flashed for a fraction of a second and before she could read it, it was gone. Not wanting to worry Edward, she added,

"Hmm…nice name. How old are you anyway?"

"I have seen 32 beautiful summers." Edward responded.

"So, you're over 30?"

"Yes."

"I would have taken you to be 17, maybe 20 at best. I'm almost 32." She seemed shocked by his age.

"Huh, you look 27 to me." she smiled at his flattery. After this, things went so much smoother. In fact, the pair simply could stop talking. All too soon, they were at her house. She helped him out of the car and to a couch where he laid down. He was fairly hungry by then and she seemed to read his thoughts.

"Would you like some soup?" She opened a cupboard in the archway adjoining the living room and the kitchen. He turned to watch her pull out several cans. "Let's see what we got here…New England Clam Chowder, Beef Stew, Chicken Noodle Soup?"

"You mean to say that a whole soup is in that little can?" He quarried, eye nearly popping out of his head.

"Ya, never really got it either. But you know, it's a really efficient for storing…"

Getting over the good surprise, he simply answered, "What ever's good's fine."

So, the rest of the evening was rather pleasant. Eragon got his first taste of Clam Chowder and ate up every can of it she had, but was still hungry. So, she made him some beef stew and that filled him up.

After a warm, satisfying meal, Eragon curled up by the TV, finally a little sure of what it was, and watched it before drifting off. But he knew, in the back of his mind, this peace would not last forever.

On the horizon, he could feel evil stirring. What little cover he had would be drawn away as soon as Murtagh came within three miles of him and he was definitely searching. His oaths made him. War still cried out in his mind, though for now, its screams were muffled by the mindless noises of the TV.

Okay. Trust me. Mary and Eragon's relationship is going to be strictly platonic...I think. I am not 100, but over 90 sure it will be. I think next chapter's going to be the first one of many I split. If there's a number one and a number two by the chapters and there's two, I probably did. But I may also decide to go back and tell you the fate of Murtagh and Galbatorix...So till then...

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