A/N: I forgot all about the Forsworn. Sorry for any confusion that may cause. I'll probably fix that later, once I stop being lazy.
"How do you know who we are?" asked Istalir, drawing his sword and eying the stranger warily.
The stranger smiled. "Like you, I am an elven member of the Varden. I joined quite recently. I would have contacted you earlier, but I did not know for sure who you were."
"What are you doing here?" I inquired.
"It would be better if we could discuss things in the privacy of our minds."
"Hmm." Istalir thought for a moment. He looked at me. "Us two can probably hold him off for a while. But be careful." Cautiously, we opened our minds—or at least I did, I can only presume he did as well.
My name is Elrun. A strange new consciousness, vast and mysterious.
How did you know to find us here? Istalir, seemingly calm and controlled.
Weldon sent scouts to many places to find you, after he heard you had fled. A small amount of contempt was detectable.
He fled to rescue me, I thought.
And who might you be? Much more contempt. I did not like this elf much so far.
One of the King's prisoners, who the King seemed strangely interested in. Istalir, interfering on my behalf. But who is this Weldon you speak of?
Ah. I forgot. Your…isolation would have prevented you from learning of that, as it just happened. Brom decided he wanted to directly fight the Forsworn, and left the leadership of the Varden to Weldon, a mere human.
A shout reached our ears, and alarm bells began to toll.
We'd best discuss this later. Unfortunately, we cannot stay as I'd hoped.
And this has alerted Galbatorix to our position, and the general area of the Varden.
We rushed out of the building. Outside, I mounted a horse. Istalir left his, and grabbed our pack horse. Elrun began to run ahead, sprinting so fast he was a blur. I followed as fast as I could, while Istalir coaxed the pack horse into a fast trot.
Soon, I encountered a small group of dead soldiers, obviously the work of Elrun. I glanced over my shoulder to see the pack horse galloping towards me, and Istalir holding off ten guards. As I was looking back, I sped past the gate, and another clump of dead soldiers. I vaguely saw Elrun on the pass, who had turned to look at something above him.
A shadow passed over my head, blocking out the moonlight.
I looked up.
Two dragons flew overhead, one emerald, one white.
Terror filled my veins. I viciously dug my heels into my horse, willing it to go faster, but the green dragon landed ahead of me. My horse wheeled around, dropping me, and ran into the woods. Before I could follow it, the rider of the green dragon leapt at me, and I fell to the floor, unconscious.
I moaned. The side of my head was throbbing with pain.
"Are you ok?" asked a melodious voice, which still worsened my headache, despite its aforementioned melodiousness. It sounded like Elrun
I opened my eyes after a bit of nudging. I was strapped to the back of a flying dragon. Wind blew through my hair. It would have been exhilarating, except for the fact that I was again a captive of the King.
Lying next to me, looking at me with some concern, was Elrun. He was unbloodied, but still bound. Beyond that were massive white wings, with a tall, slender figure in between. A member of the Forsworn.
After you were punched in the side of the head, your assaulter, Glaerun, proceeded to attack me with magic. Meanwhile, Enduriel defeated Istalir, and came to assist Glaerun, said Elrun, without asking me for permission to enter my mind.
Where are we going?
Probably Uru'baen. Wherever the King happens to be.
Is there anything we can do to escape?
Not really. We can struggle, and weaken our captors a bit, but not defeat them.
How long will it take to get to Uru'baen? I noticed Elrun was more respectful than usual.
A little over a day's flight.
Perhaps we can escape if we stop, then.
Perhaps. He didn't sound very confident.
I lapsed into silence, contemplating the tortures Galbatorix probably had planned. After a couple hours, we landed in an enormous plain with little vegetation, and a couple hills to the west. The white rider, Enduriel, gave us each a piece of bread. It probably wasn't supposed to be much, but it was the highest quality bread I had ever had.
"Galbatorix is very angry," said Glaerun, a nasty look on his face. No one else said anything.
After a while, Enduriel left to hunt or something, and Glaerun drifted off into a strange, trancelike state.
Can any of you untie your bonds? asked Istalir.
No, I responded.
There will probably be a spell preventing us, anyway, said Elrun.
I twisted to look at my knot. It was on my chest, so my hands, which were behind my back, couldn't reach…but…maybe my mouth? I bent to grip the rope with my teeth. The knot flashed gold, and my head was thrown back, with a resounding crack. Glaerun's eyes flew open.
"Don't bother. The knots are enchanted," he said dismissively, and went back to sleep.
I lay down, trying to nurse my throbbing skull, and attempted to rest, but the thought of returning to prison made me anxious. What would Galbatorix do this time? Finally, I drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
Around midnight, I was awoken by swarm of bright lights approaching our camp.
What are those? I asked Istalir, sending him an image.
Spirits! he said.
Spirits, said Elrun. Oh no.
They turned to watch the multicolored lights get nearer, obviously worrying. I watched too, confused. I had no idea what spirits were, except for stories about evil ones infesting humans to create Shades. I'd never heard of a friendly spirit, but I hoped they existed.
When the lights got close, Glaerun awoke again.
"Spirits!" he yelped, half drawing his sword, then sheathing it again. He looked uncertain, almost scared.
The spirits sped up, and quickly surrounded our camp. They whirled around it, forming a multicolored maelstrom. We could barely see outside.
Enduriel arrived outside the camp, but when he tried to get through, the spirits flashed and he was flung back, landing limply. Glaerun's dragon attempted to get through, with a similar result. However, when I stepped into the maelstrom, I wasn't repelled.
Energy coursed through my veins, and my soul seemed to overflow with overpowering joy. I wanted to be terrified, but couldn't. They conveyed a strange group of feelings, leaving me with the impression that these amazing beings had been sent by some great power that the respected. The spirits left a feeling of hope in me and thrust me towards the hills I had seen earlier, which I now noticed had many caves.
I sprinted into one, unthinkingly following some primal instinct, and thinking Istalir and Elrun would follow.
However, when I reached the cave, I realized that was not the case. Apparently, the spirits had blocked them as well. I could make them out battling Glaerun, while the dragons warily eyed the spirits. Enduriel had tried to pursue me, but the spirits blocked him. I was alone, but I felt compelled to enter the cave.
Inside was a maze. I sprinted through the carefully carved tunnels for what felt like hours, not knowing why I did so, only that I must.
Eventually, I reached a round marble room with a circular pedestal in the middle. The pedestal had a single floating orb above it, contained by a purple field. My hand lifted and reached. I tried to stop my hand, to prevent it from touching this unknown field with unknown effects, but failed.
No… I thought. Must…not…succumb.
However, the overall benign, powerful feeling radiating from the orb was just too convincing. I could not bring my heart to believe something bad would come of this. It was a battle between my mind and my soul, and my soul was triumphing with ease.
The barrier simply disappeared with a fizz. My hand continued forward to touch the orb.
Flash! My poorly constructed mental barriers were overwhelmed. A feeling of ecstasy swept through me, accompanied by the knowledge that I could do anything. My limbs seemed to fill with fire, and when it burned away they were stronger, thinner, more…elven.
My entire body felt strange, first hot, then cold, as if something was entering me. I screamed and screamed until the back of my throat began to bleed, and tried to scream more. I fell to my knees, quivering. The pain was unbearable. I wanted to die.
Finally, slowly, the agony faded away. I collapsed, twitching uncontrollably. Gradually, I began to calm down. Strangely, I felt invincible. I stood up slowly.
Finally, a good host. Wait, what?
I have waited many millennia to find someone suitable. Huh? Seemingly random thoughts came into my mind.
I believe I shall prevent my thoughts from reaching you, noble human.
I staggered back, confused by the sudden change. My body felt different. I was more confident. When I raised my hand to look at it, it was much like that of Istalir, or Elrun. I was not sure how I felt about this. My body had been changed without my permission. But it was a good change, I supposed.
With a grinding sound, the pedestal in the middle of the room sunk into the ground. In its place, a shimmering sword appeared, along with a round silver stone. I unthinkingly reached for them, pocketed the stone, and picked up the sword, marveling at its balance and beauty. The pommel had a sparkling silver gem, which seemed to have endless depths one could spend days staring into. The handle was bound with silver wire. The hilt was relatively plain in shape, a rectangle whose ends were perpendicular to the rest of it, pointing in the same direction as the blade. These sharp points were about an inch. The blade itself seemed wavy, like water. It was double-edged. About two feet of it was perfectly straight, and the last one half or so feet tapered into a point.
Wonderingly, I swung it at a nearby rock, which appeared to have dislodged from a pillar. The sword was amazingly light, yet strong; the metal, combined with my new strength, effortlessly cut through a half foot of rock, which cracked in two. And I hadn't even swung very hard. Although I suppose it may have been a relatively soft rock.
I suddenly remembered Elrun and Istalir. They were still outside, battling the Forsworn! I sheathed my sword in the simple, but high quality scabbard that had somehow appeared at my side. I had just noticed it. It was wood, painted black, with silver metal capping the end.
I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the distractions. I sprinted out of the maze, moving much faster than I had coming in. I nearly smashed into a wall at first.
I burst out of the cave, stopping to assess the situation. The spirits had dispersed, and Glaerun, who had apparently managed to defend himself, had been joined by Enduriel, and now they were beating my friends easily, although their dragons were out cold.
I rushed in their direction, drawing my sword and letting out a hoarse yell. Enduriel stayed focused on the elves, but Glaerun turned to face me. I noticed my eyesight was so sharp, in the night, from nearly two hundred feet away, I could see his smirk. He loped in my direction, emerald blade ready. Soon, we were only thirty yards away.
Gathering my strength, I leapt, higher than ever before, nearly fifteen feet in the air. Glaerun's face betrayed his shock, as did his posture. He had dropped his hand to his side, with a loose grip on his sword. He barely raised it in time to block my blow from above, which sent him stumbling backwards. I spun around and jumped at him, traveling a horizontal distance of ten feet while staying only a food above the ground. My new sword crashed into his side, which was well-protected by enchanted armor, but still he flew back, colliding with the side of the hill. He dropped his sword, and his head lolled to the side. He was unconscious.
I turned my attention to Enduriel. He was holding his own against Elrun and Istalir. Neither side had the upper hand yet, but the dragons were beginning to stir. It was only a matter of time. I had serious doubts about my ability to defeat two dragons and a rider.
Shouting as loud as I could, not caring that it damaged my vocal cords more. Enduriel turned to face me, a startled expression forming on his face. Before he could recover, I rammed my shoulder into his ribcage, and the wind escaped from him in a sort of reverse gasp. Then, I whacked the side of his head with my pommel, rendering him unconscious. Apparently his wards had disintegrated by now. Unfortunately, I did not have the time to kill him, as the dragons were beginning to growl.
"Let's go!" shouted Istalir, and we raced off into the night.
I hope that PB thing I just did works. FFN is being strange for me right now. Please review, as I am considering discontinuing the story if I don't have more than one reviewer by the time I get to ten chapters. I think the next chapter will be a sort of short filler chapter.