Chapter 5

This is a flashback chapter, told in the same present tense I have been using. It could get confusing if you don't keep in mind that this was a long time ago. This will be an arc a couple of chapters long, skipping from event to event. The main storyline is on hold for the time being as Eragon explains wth is going on to Arya (wink wink).

Eragon stood alone in the doorway of the small hut, trembling with rage. A dark shape lifted in the distance, moving away rapidly. Eragon's scowl deepened and he raised his hand, ready to strike his pupil from the air. Grunting, he lowered his hand, unwilling to believe the facts that faced him, unwilling to take the life of of the most skilled magicians he had yet trained, save Elva. He closed his eyes, letting the breeze flow over him, his mid-length hair blowing in the wind. Reaching deep inside himself, he pulled an image of he and Oromis, standing at the crags of Tel'nair, the brilliant sunlight illuminating the scene. In the memory, Eragon stood tall, reciting a scrap of rhyme as an exercise to rid oneself of doubt and clear the mind.

"Eragon!" A dwarf woman called his name and his eyes snapped open. Running towards him, hastily dressed in a white robe was Yensa, his newest Rider-in training. "What-" she began, but Eragon raised one gloved hand to silence her, the scale armor on the palm sparkling with energy as his anger coursed through his body, manifesting itself as magical power.

"Ebrithil, please, tell us what has happened." Crívae stepped silently, gracefully, around the corner of Eragon's simple hut as he spoke, his twisting horns almost scraping the overhanging roof. Eragon studied him for a moment, taken as much by surprise at Crívae's appearance as he had been when the half urgal, half elf had arrived at Fíerdauth. He stood six and a half feet, short for an urgal, but his horns were unlike those of any other of his race. They were curled, like a ram's, and pure white, spiraling behind his head to hang just above his lower back. His horns contrasted brilliantly with his silver hair and chocolate-brown skin, uncovered to the waist where the rider wore a simple pair of trousers. Eragon watched him approach, then lowered his gaze, shaking his head despairingly.

"Rivend has abandoned the order. He wished to know, always, more secrets, more advanced, more dangerous spells. I have refused him, always, but it appears he will no longer accept my denials." Eragon said.

"Then, master, it is just as well you have not taught him those same arts. Is it not?" Yensa's sky blue eyes widened, childlike and disbelieving, at the prospect of a rider abandoning Eragon and Blödgharm's teachings and leaving the order. She frowned, then asked timidly, "What will become of him? Will you imprison him? Or-" she broke off her thought, but Eragon could guess what the carefree, happy-go-lucky dwarf was thinking.

"I will notify the queen that an extraordinarily dangerous renegade is approaching her land, and give her instructions to capture him." Eragon said heavily. He paused, biting his cheek as he contemplated whether to continue. "And Angela will remove his magic." Yensa gasped, horrified. Even Crívae, normally stoic and unperturbed looked disturbed by this revelation.

"But, Ebrithil, will that not destroy his Rider's bond? What will come of his dragon?" Yensa demanded. "It's not fair that he should suffer for Rivend's crimes!" She pouted. The dwarf loved caring for the rider's dragons above all else, and she was one of the few that moved freely from Fíerdauth to Algaësia, ensuring the safety of the hatchlings, eggs, and older wyrms alike. Despite being somewhat weak in combat, she was invaluable member of Eragon's squad.

"That is for you to decide, as caretaker." Eragon responded, not meeting her eyes. "I would prefer no harm come to him, however justice must be passed down, and I am sure the dragon and man alike are not guiltless." Eragon winced, grabbing for stomach as a stabbing pain lanced through him like a Dauthdaert. He recovered his bearing, pressing his tunic to the wound in his torso. "Waíse heill," he murmured, closing the wound easily.

Crívae spoke, gesturing to the inside wall of Eragon's dwelling. "Ebrithil, has Rivend stolen one of the great blades? Naegling is missing." Eragon nodded, his brow still furrowed. A look of anger passed over Crívae's expressive features, his countenance fearsome for a moment before returning to its normally cool and collected state.

"I must go, to notify Hreytha of the impending danger. Crívae, notify the elves of the threat, and Yensa, likewise for the dwarves." Eragon nodded to each of them grimly, then turned inside, pulling the door shut with unwonted venom. He stood for a moment on the dirt floor, considering his next move. Chewing his lip, he moved to the mirror, designed specifically to contact the queen and warn her of dangers and to communicate across the massive distance separating him from the workings of Algaësia. Draumr kopa he thought, and the mirror shimmered, revealing the inside of a plainly decorated chamber. Hreytha glanced up from her work as she noticed Eragon's kneeling image in her mirror.

The queen touched her fingers to her lips, and when Eragon mirrored the movement asked, "What news? More brightsteel? Or has something happened?"

"Rivend. An hour past he revealed his plans to abandon the order, and when I challenged him he attacked me, then fled." Eragon stated bluntly. "He fled Fíerdauth, and I believe he is headed to Algaësia." Hreytha nodded, a troubled look on her face. "My liege, it would be a good idea to call for Elva for protection." The queen stopped, paling.

"Are you sure? She was close to Rivend, she may be allied with him. I will call for her if you insist, however." Eragon chuckled at this.

"If Elva is indeed allied with Rivend, all the races are doomed anyway. Send for her. She will protect you. And Hreytha?" His voice teetered.

"Yes, Eragon?" The queen appeared vulnerable, out of her depth. Despite her impressive diplomatic skills, she did not have the experience and toughness Nasuada had possessed.

"If you have a spare moment, could you ask Elva to contact me?" Hreytha nodded an affirmative, and Eragon cut the energy to his spell, sighing loudly as he stretched his leaden arms above his head.

Is this what took place before the decimation of Illeria? Arya's crisp voice cut through his recollection.

It is, and despite my distance from the carnage I witnessed all sides. I would tell you the things you did not see, if I may.

I am...interested in the perspective outside my narrow view. How-Arya began, then seemed to change her mind. Tell me, how was it that Elva came to be the one to destroy Rivend, when the spellcaster's legion caught up to the oath-breaker first?

Eragon sighed, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, warming his hands.

Next bit next week! Sorry it's a little short, I've been working on some artwork for Yensa and Crívae. Next week should be a nice, long one though. The second (third?) battle of Illeria.