AN: an extremely IMPORTANT point… there are two races of dragons in this series they will be explained in detail in later chapters but here's a heads up…
The dov: the eldest dragons, who were created by Akatosh himself… they are by and large far more powerful than the other dragons… are capable of using the dovahzul in greater variety and much higher strength.
The dragons: these are descendants of the dov… born from mating between the dov; over generations their powers have waned… most dragons cannot use the dovahzul to the extent their ancestors can.
While both races are immortal.. it is the dov who can come back from their death… their souls simply await in the aetherius, waiting for either Alduin or Paarthunax to recall them.
Thank you again for the reviews… I really appreciate them… this chapter was written on a sudden whim and is in sharp contrast to what I had originally planned…. I don't know how this will end but my instincts have never led me astray….
I hope you like this chapter… read on and enjoy…. And don't forget to review.
Chapter 9 : Interlude
Doru Araeba, the Citadel
Galbatorix knew that he wasn't anything more than a convenient distraction in the grand scheme of things, atleast as far as the boss-reptile was concerned… but still he would become High King… once the old fool who currently occupied the throne was dealt with… for that, he was willing to take all kinds of shit from the dovah.
"My lord, most of the eldunari and the eggs have sealed themselves away in a hidden location, they are beyond our reach," he said to Alduin, bowing.
The black dragon growled, the sound reverberating through the surrounding, the still smouldering flames in the ruins suddenly flaring up in the energy pulse of the sound. "Not really surprising… the eldest of the dragons whose eldunari resided here knew the terror of my reign, they know the signs of true power… they must have sensed that my return was due and must've taken steps to try and prevent the destruction of their pitiful order. No matter, we will rip the secret from the minds of Umaroth and Vrael. Galbatorix, you and the remaining Forsworn prepare for the Order's imminent attack. Vurthyrol, come, we must raise the rest of our brothers."
Galbatorix nodded and hurried to do his bidding…. As the two dov flew into the gathering darkness.
The Seven Thousand Steps, The Throat of the World
"How bloody high is this mountain?" Eragon complained.
"The seven thousand steps ascend for more than five kilometres and even then they only reach the fortress, High Hrothgar, the summit is higher still," Arya replied with a teasing smirk.
Eragon simply groaned in irritation, not dignifying that comment with a verbal reply.
They had started from Whiterun before dawn, Arya leading the way, having travelled that path once before. They reached the beginnings of the Seven Thousand Steps at about midday. Now, with the sun about to set, it seemed as if they had barely made any progress…. The mountain still loomed over their heads, impossibly tall and incredibly intimidating. It had been a gruesome and tiring climb, and thought of spending at least another day on the godforsaken mountain was not in the least bit pleasing. And now, with night falling, Eragon knew that they had to find shelter and make camp lest they freeze to death.
The said camp was finally made underneath a large granite overhang which provided decent shelter from the wind. He soon had a strong fire going while Arya set about casting wards all around the site.
Some time later
Eragon gave a frustrated grunt before getting up, there was no use of lying down, he simply couldn't sleep. Outside, a storm was raging- the winds howled over and around the overhang, blowing drifts of snow so furiously that he couldn't see anything beyond the wards which were glowing a faint blue. He sat down close to the fire, leaning back against the stone wall, his feet stretched out towards the warmth.
He had been having trouble sleeping ever since the Ra'zac had so brutally murdered and devoured his men….. even now, more than a month later, the faces of his men haunted his nightmares, their unearthly screams letting him know that it was his fault that they had died such undeserving deaths… he had led them into that goddamned ravine… the Ra'zac, it was apparent now, only wanted him.
"Trouble sleeping?" the question startled him out of his stupor and Eragon turned to see Arya getting up. She walked over with the grace of a leopard and slid down the stone face to sit beside him, her legs touching his. He looked at her to request her to not be bothered with his sleeplessness but had to choke back his words when he found her beautiful face inches from his own.. her emerald eyes glowing in the firelight, a truly beautiful, if slightly intimidating visage. Smiling suddenly, he said, "I'm extremely grateful, you know, that you found me when you did."
She was about to shrug it off, but he didn't allow her to do so, "you don't know how… how horrifying the depravations of those beasts were," he shuddered, "and then to travel through these wildlands with naught but your thoughts and nightmares for company." Eragon took a deep breath and shook his head to rid himself of the howling terrors inside.
"Your companionship means much to me, Arya- in the two days that I've known you and I've known little, but I like what I've seen."
She blushed at the praise. Eragon smiled wider at that, "I would be very happy if we could become friends."
Arya studied his warm brown eyes keenly…. She knew who he was, what he had achieved and more importantly, what he was… she also understood that they would be in close proximity for the next few weeks at the very least and it wouldn't be too bad to have someone she could speak with openly and someone to simply spend time with…. All of her childhood friends were back in Ellesmera and given how her last conversation with her mother had ended, she doubted that she would be returning to the elven capital anytime soon….
She smiled at him, "I would like that…."
Eragon nodded, satisfied and leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes with a soft sigh…
"So, if you don't mind me asking, what happened that you ended up in the clutches of those monsters in the first place?" Arya asked after some time.
"I don't really know, do I?" he said softly, "I had been given orders to protect the refugees from Riften which had been destroyed by an Urgal army."
Arya nodded, "two wild dragons had tried to protect the city but were driven off by spellcasters…."
His eyes widened, "I didn't know about that…. Anyway, Riften is nestled along the Sea of Ghosts but surrounded completely by the Spine."
"Yes, with only one pass through the mountains- a rather narrow one too…" Arya added.
He nodded, "exactly…! It is the perfect place for an ambush, especially for cavalry, given that there is no room for our horses to manoeuvre, two or three squadrons of archers can easily decimate our ranks... and I had no intention of going in blind." He sighed, wondering where he had gone so horribly wrong.
"So, me and five of my best riders- we went ahead to scout out the pass- make sure that there would be no nasty surprises ahead. The rest of my men, I ordered to hide in a defilade to remain away from observation. Everything was fine till the sunset that evening- we had ridden almost half way up the pass and I was supremely confident that the urgals were still at the city, the tracks were very easily read… I remember contemplating a dawn strike at the city the day after, to catch the urgals by surprise. We had barely made camp for the night when the Ra'zac struck, swooping down from above, so silently that I didn't know when they landed amidst us; their black breath knocked us out before we could even draw our swords… it was as if they knew exactly where we are. I lost five good men to those … those horrible, disgusting creatures. I… I don't want to revisit those memories." He looked up and Arya would swear in later days that she saw a dragon's eyes in Eragon's face. "All that's left now is for me to re-join my men; the Gods only know where they must be now."
High Hrothgar
"Even in my worst nightmares, I had hope…. Hope that the Shrutu'ugalar would stand united against the onslaught of Alduin… But now, we've been betrayed by our own…" Oromis whispered, angry tears rolling down his elven features. They had barely received the news of the fall of Vroengard…so many hundreds of lives, so full of wonder and hope, snuffed out in the thirst for power of a God. Tenga gripped the shoulders of his old friend, "not all hope is lost… a dovahkiin has been revealed at long last, the Gods haven't abandoned us."
"It is far too late and far too little… Eragon has to be trained to master the Voice and even then it will be extremely difficult to defeat Alduin and his inner circle…. Leave aside the Forsworn. And I doubt we have the luxury of time…"
Glaedr roared in defiance and anger, "then we will buy him time, we must join our brethren in Illirea, we will have our vengeance or die trying!"
Oromis seemed to be in agreement for as he rose, no longer stood the wise, old sage, but a true lord, a Dragon Rider, a fearsome warrior of almost unparalleled capabilities… The Forsworn had much to fear….
Tenga made to stop them but was prevented by Paarthunax himself. "Their hearts are full of anger and righteous hate… let them cleanse themselves of hate and anger, they will return, stronger and wiser for the experience and even better suited for teaching the young dragonborn."
Fifteen years on…..
It had been fifteen years since the Great War ended….. King Titus Mede was executed and in his place now sat Galbatorix himself, his dragon Shruikan ruling by his side. The Order of the Dragon Riders is no more, its ranks decimated by Alduin who in the Battle of Illirea killed the entire Elder Council on his own… that battle also saw the death of the Elven Monarch, Evandar and the destruction of what amounted to two-thirds of the Elven Nation's armed forces.
While a great many lives were lost in the six years of the war, there had been some saving graces… a group of riders managed to escape and formed the Varden, the Resistance to the Empire, seeking refuge in the Dwarven nation. Two kingdoms had broken away, Surda in the distant South and Skyrim, the loose Federation of Nine Holds in the North, fiercely independent and ever vigilant of the Empire.
Alduin and his Inner Circle roosted in the Hadarac Desert, ruling all of the Empire with an iron fist… they had launched an attack on the people of Akaviir, the countries beyond the vast desert… with an aim to bring that ancient homeland of dragons under their rule. The dragons themselves were now divided. Most chose to follow Alduin, out of fear or in a thirst for power. Very few chose to remain loyal to Paarthunax… Fortunately, the eldest and thus, the most powerful of dragons all chose to side with Paarthunax or had been killed, Alduin's followers were young and brash and while they had superior numbers were absolutely no match for the sheer strength and experience of Parrthunax's group… a fact that Alduin was very much aware of and enabled Skyrim to maintain their independence.
The Forsworn's surviving riders were Dukes and Counts, each largely independent of each other and ruling their own territories, united only in their hatred of the Resistance and the Free Order.
As for our heroes? Roran now was senior Legate of Skyrim, the senior most military officer in the entire province… Most of Skyrim's military forces had survived intact. They had been engaged in the northern borders and with the Urgal incursion during the beginning of the war and thus couldn't deploy to the Empire's territory when the Forsworn attacked, exactly as planned by Alduin. That meant that they had been able to survive the Great War.
Whiterun was resettled. Eragon had lobbied hard with the Council of Riverwood to achieve it. His reasoning had been simple and two-fold. First and most important being that Whiterun lay very close to the Throat of the World and thus fell under the protection of Paarthunax and the dragons that followed him. Secondly, the city's defences were to a great extent intact and serviceable, something which couldn't be said for Riverwood. They had agreed and it had taken three years for the entire process to be complete. Whiterun now being ruled by his uncle, who had been elected Jarl.
Arya had been devastated by the news of her father's death and had returned home, although only Eragon and Tenga knew exactly who her father was… she returned barely three months later, older and more determined than ever to see the Forsworn die and Alduin fall. Eragon continued his training with the Greybeards, the masters of the Voice at High Hrothgar. He had an unnatural affinity for Dovahzul, picking up the language with minimal effort and able to wield it with immense strength. Paarthunax felt that the dovah soul residing within him was ancient and powerful and unlike anything he had ever felt. Eragon was however, completely incapable of wielding magic… it was not that he didn't have the gift… he had bouts of accidental discharges, whenever he grew frustrated or angry enough; and he was an extremely skilled enchanter, but he had absolutely no control whatsoever.
The pair often travelled together, running errands for the Greybeards, exploring ancient ruins that dotted the length and breadth of Skyrim, in search of ancient artefacts and knowledge, especially anything that had to do with the Dragon Cult of ages past. Regardless of his immense knowledge in the Dovahzul, Eragon was nothing more than a dull child compared to the Dragon Priests, atleast as far their knowledge was concerned. Unfortunately, when Alduin had been defeated and exiled at the end of the last Dragon War millennia ago, all knowledge of the Voice had been destroyed.
Among the Varden, the free riders continue to strive to defeat the Forsworn.. and had had several successes over the past fifteen years…having killed several of them. The wild dragons who had stayed away from Alduin mostly roosted in Skyrim. They had lost faith in the Order and refused to abide to the oath they had sworn; to dedicate a few eggs every year for the Order… as a result the free riders were dwindling, slowly dying of treachery and combat. What once had been twenty seven free riders had been now reduced to mere twelve.
It is at this stalemate, when a blue egg would hatch, and completely change the course of events in Alagaesia.
There will be a series of flashbacks in the successive chapters to cover the massive time change of fifteen years and show in detail the major events of the intervening years. SO, how was the chapter? Hit the review button and tell me!