"Bloodstained"
by Hailie Jade S
Chapter Six – A Hatching
A/Ns: As usual, love all who reviewed! Blah blah… Time for Chapter Five's reviewers to get mentioned! WOOHOO! Fredsonetruelove and Siwenuli… The two of you are speshul! And, LoNnI… You reviewed chapter one… You get mentioned anyway!
Sorry for the non-updating gap and not-so-good chapter, but my life is suckily busy right now, so yeah… Please read and review!
It was almost humorous, Roran reflected, as he sat, his back against the rough bark of the tree, that he was waiting for an apparently emotionally unstable teenager who'd just lost the hundred-year-old love of his life to come out of the forest. At Roran's side was a large fire-breathing winged lizard who could talk in people's heads and was bonded to Eragon. They were waiting to go back into a dark mucky cave and face murderous monsters, all (suicidally) in the name of a single young woman. Meanwhile, there was an evil king who also had a giant lizard, and who was ruling the land, opposed only by a scruffy group of humans and short human-like creatures who loved rocks. And…
Roran decided he'd better stem this particular train of thought.
Saphira sat curled up, the tip of her blue tail flicking spasmodically, her deep eyes trained on the spot that Eragon had last been seen plunging into the forest. Her jaw was clamped tightly, her wings pressed firmly against her back, her legs bunched up beneath her as she sat, her talons dug into the soft ground.
Finally, she uncurled herself, lowering her great head to her Rider's cousin and brother. Her breathing fell hot and strangely sweet on his face. Eragon has blocked me from his mind, else I would call him to us, she informed him.
Roran's hand curled involuntarily into a fist and he slammed the ground, lowering his gaze and biting his tongue, lest he say something hasty that he didn't mean. Saphira blew out a gusty sigh and dropped her shoulder. Roran looked at her, surprised and confused.
Well, mount up, she said.
"Eh?" Roran replied impressively. His lower jaw was dangling.
We go to Helgrind on our own, Roran Stronghammer, she said, a forced strength in her voice. We can't expect Eragon to come out anytime soon.
Roran hesitated. "You won't fit in Helgrind," he pointed out.
Saphira opened her gaping maw, showing her deadly teeth. Her eyes sparkled with an inner fire. I shall see what I can do.
The green egg lay, innocent and silent, in the green woody patch. Nearby, a small squirrel, his bushy tail sticking straight out, considered it, trembling nervously. A squirrel was always on guard. He dropped onto all fours, then made a mad dash forward. He stopped in front of the green thing, then sniffed it, his pink nose twitching. Deciding it was neither friend, foe, nor food, the squirrel lost interest and scurried away.
The egg remained silent.
Shruikan was lying morosely on the roof again. His pitch-black scales scraped annoyingly as he shifted his haunches. His golden eyes opened, and he bared his fangs in a huge yawn that expanded his jaws wide enough for him to swallow several grown men, before he settled again. Galbatorix's mind was closed firmly out of his own, as per usual. For the most part, the two of them avoided each others' minds, finding the alien thoughts distracting and unnecessary. Especially when Galbatorix was in such a rage. Shruikan really didn't need to listen.
Once, Shruikan knew, Galbatorix had been a proper Rider, his mind always in his dragon's. But Galbatorix never thought about that dragon any more, and Shruikan only knew what he knew about her from the king's dreams.
Such terrible dreams they were! Galbatorix tossed and turned frantically throughout them, usually ending up screaming himself awake. And yet Shruikan was loathe wake him. He couldn't help but be curious about his new Rider's old dragon.
Kisaffa had been her name, he'd gleaned, and a dainty yellow lady she'd been. The dreams were always the same – Galbatorix was waking up, sitting up in his bed to think Kisaffa!
And she would come out, out of the shadows, all shining golden beauty, her eyes sparkling with love for Galbatorix. He would fling himself out of bed, running to her to wrap his arms around her neck.
But before he could touch her, blood began to spurt from her, and she roared, writhing with pain as millions of invisible arrows pierced her tough scales. Then, her head severed itself from her body and rolled across the floor, sending Galbatorix into screaming convulsions. (Shruikan suspected that she hadn't really been decapitated – but Galbatorix himself had since done it to enough men for it to plague his dreams).
Then, her scales would run together and drip onto the floor, and faceless monsters danced in the shadows.
And then she was black, blacker than midnight, and she would rear up, full-strength, opening her jaws in a terrible bellow. And she wasn't Kisaffa, she was Shruikan.
Shruikan wasn't quite sure how he should react to these dreams. He wasn't insulted or hurt – he'd always known that he wasn't the closest thing to Galbatorix's heart. They didn't share a bond of love, merely one of a partnership, which had since grown into a fierce loyalty.
Shruikan suddenly felt Galbatorix's mind thrust up against his own. He let it in, his eyes rolling as he twitched his tail. The sensation, even after all these years, wasn't the most comfortable.
How goes the search? Galbatorix asked.
I wouldn't know, Shruikan replied tonelessly.
You need to keep tabs on them! roared Galbatorix. What if they find the egg? Shruikan thought this possibility extremely unlikely. What if they need help?
Shruikan waited silently under this tirade. He offered no apology.
Well, go check in with them!
The green egg seemed to be growing restless. It rocked back and forth, finally rolling a little bit. It happened to be on just enough of an incline for it to go jostling down until it landed by a creek, next to a stinking carcass of a dead squirrel. The vulture that had been picking at the body squawked in fright and took off.
Suddenly, without any warning, a chip of eggshell flew off of the green egg.
Saphira and Roran were flying, back to Helgrind, and Saphira was severely uncomfortable. She wanted to roll her shoulders, shake off this unusual passenger. It just felt wrong to be flying with someone on your back without your own Rider. She missed him, plain and simple.
Soon enough, however, Helgrind was back in view. Roran's legs clenched perceptibly on Saphira's neck, and she veered slightly to the right in hopes of easing his grip as she soared down in tightening spirals. She sucked in a deep breath, then contacted him mentally, missing the feel of Eragon's mind with every second that she couldn't touch it.
Are you ready? she asked.
I dunno, Roran replied dubiously. She wanted to smack him with her wing.
Why not? she demanded.
What about wards? Did the ones Eragon give us stop working? Why could those things still kill Arya?
Saphira sighed. She'd heard the story of Arya's death. The ones Eragon put up should still be useful right now, she informed her passenger. And Arya had to let hers down before she… died… because she needed to help you two escape the spell of the Lethrblaka.
Well, if we – I – whatever – run into those… Lethrblaka again, won't it be the same as…?
It will not be the same, because you didn't have a dragon with you last time, Saphira said smugly. I made the mistake of letting all of you go in there by yourselves once. I'm not going to make it again.
Finally, the green egg burst open, sending tiny slivers and large shards of shell flying everywhere. A dragon hatchling, as green as his egg and the forest around him, lay curled up in a ball, though his wings were unfurled, as he'd used them to break open his shell. He was covered in egg-slime, and he creeled his uncomfort to a deaf world.
He was a dainty creature, though it was clear that when grown, he would be a powerful beast. His little splinter-like claws would soon enough be dagger-like talons. His overlarge, bat-like wings would become vast and mighty.
He knew his name, too.
Across the land of Alagaësia, the egg's hatching was felt.
Eragon's head jerked up, his tear-streaked face stunned. What was that? he wondered wildly, leaping to his feet, his hand flying to his sword hilt. He'd felt a sudden burst of energy, and for a second, a strange consciousness had briefly brushed his own.
Saphira, standing outside the gates of Helgrind, lifted her head and bugled loudly, her tail thrashing and her wings flaring as she trumpeted. She swung her head down, her eyes alight with fire, as she felt one of her own people come into the world.
Murtagh and Thorn froze, dropping like a stone toward the ground. The feeling was unmistakable, though they'd never experienced it before. It had hatched. Murtagh reached his mind out for Galbatorix's, but found it blocked with an iron wall that tasted of rage. Thorn began to roar, his full-throated peals echoing across the land.
Galbatorix let loose a terrible roar of pure fury, ripping his sword out of its sheath.
SHRUIKAN! he bellowed, swinging the blade into something soft. He couldn't quite tell what it was. He was seeing red.
His name is Tieu, Shruikan informed his Rider calmly, spreading his powerful black wings to let out a loud, animalistic cry.
There you have it! I hope you enjoyed… "Tieu" is pronounced like the words "tie" and "you".
Please review!