A.N : This chapter is an outline of Shadow's past life, and family. Hope you'll enjoy. Thanks to anyone who commented or favorited this story.
Shadow stood in front of a farmhouse, surrounded by tall mountains. From the hill he could see the small village laying down in the valley. The sight made a sense of inner peace take over him and he smiled brightly. He entered the house and shed his cloak off, sitting on one of the wooden chairs in front of the fireplace.
He waited for a while, his eyes tracing the walls which held so many childhood memories.
-Memory-
He was 8 years old then. Sitting on that same chair, fidgeting. He could barely contain his excitement and anxiety, while his uncle was pacing around nervously, running all sorts of errands. Preparing warm water, clean cloths...
His cousin, adorable, oblivious cousin, was busy chewing on anything he could get his hands on. The adults said he was "teething".
He could hear sounds of his mother screaming, his aunt and the healer encouraging. And suddenly, a shrill cry. His uncle jumped up, trying to rush in but was ushered out.
"Childbirth is a matter best handled by women only" The healer, Gertrud, said.
They had to stay out for another half hour. The wait was becoming increasingly unsupportable, especially with his uncle Garrow who kept muttering things and sighing.
Finally, the wooden door creaked open, revealing an overjoyed looking Marian.
"Everything is alright. It's a girl!"
He stormed into the room, before anyone could say anything.
"You...you said it would be a boy!" He felt cheated. "How could i play with a GIRL?!"
The outburst earned him a glare from Marian and Garrow. However, his mother and Gertrud were smiling.
As fast as his anger came, it went away the instant he saw that little bundle of cloths in his mother's arm. He approached it, curiously. His mother lifted the cloth, revealing the tiny creature within.
She was all pink and shriveled. She looked so weird ; it was what he initially thought. Yet, as he drew closer, gem-like blue eyes snapped open and stared back at him. The blue lacked of imperfections - he felt like he was staring at the sea again.
The sea was wonderful.
As he stood there, dumbfounded, a delicate flower-sized hand stretched towards him, catching his pinkie. It was then he realised that she was the most precious little thing he'd ever seen.
That no harm shall ever befall on her as long as he was alive.
-End memory-
"Murtagh!" A voice called, rousing him from his musings. He looked up, seeing his cousin Roran. He was then caught in a sweaty embrace.
"How are you? Been coupla months..." Roran grinned fondly at his older cousin.
"I am good." He answered " Received my pay, you won't run short of food this winter". Uncle Garrow slapped his back affectionately at this. Murtagh noticed that the traces of worry faded from his face.
"It's a good thing. The weather this year had not been kind to us, and we lost many of our crops" The old man grumbled "Hours of work, for naught!". He then slumped back on one of the chairs, his breath heavy from the long day of labour. Murtagh glanced at Roran questionningly.
"Pests, fleas of all sorts plaguing our crops..." Garrow continued, answering Murtagh's silent query. The younger man pulled out a pouch and opened it, revealing a large pile of gold. Garrow's eyes boggled at the sight. "There must be at least 500 crowns here!" He marvelled. However, after a while, he looked at Murtagh suspiciously.
"How can a hired personal guard earn so much?"
"Let's say that these times aren't safe. Word had reached about villages being raided by Urgals" Murtagh leaned back and ruffled his hair, trying to look careless "Which is why wealthy travellers are ready to give a good pay for anyone ready to take the risk" He smoothly lied.
"Urgals attacking?" Garrow was obviously surprised at the news "How come haven't we heard about it?"
"We are in a very remote part of the Empire, father. Hopefully we will be prepared before the Urgals reaches us" Roran added from above his shoulders while reheating lunch. A lunch that had been prepared by Eragona in the morning, he noted.
Garrow nodded grimly at the statement, before turning back to Murtagh again "In fact, i was wondering if you could stay at the farm next year." He paused, gazing briefly at his son "Roran will leave for Therinsford in a matter of weeks. He wishes to begin an apprenticeship and earn his money. He wants to marry" He quickly added.
"Ooooh so it's Katrina hmmm?" Murtagh chuckled, seeing his cousin's blush. "You wish me to stay and help at the farm?"
"Yes, unless you plan to marry aswell" Garrow lit his pipe "It would cause me more worries. I know you earn more out there than all of us combined, but the land and the animals needs some tending..."
"I won't marry before Eragona does. She is my charge, i should see to it that she gets in a comfortable life situation first" Murtagh interjected. "Speaking of Eragona, where is she?"
"She said she went to Brom's house, to borrow books. She should've been back a while ago though..." Murtagh did not wait for Garrow to finish his sentence as he left the house in long strides. He couldn't wait to see his little sister again ; he also grew slightly worried at what his uncle told him.
Murtagh always worried about Eragona. She was one of the rare things dear to his life - losing her for whatever reason...Just the thought of it made his heart clench. When she was a toddler, each time she fell and hurted herself, he hurted. Each time she was sad, he was saddened. Thus he was never truly able to raise his voice at her - he did not have the will to do so.
As he walked down the hill, he remembered the days when they were both children. He would always carry her on his back. In fact, it was very rare to see one without another back then. Everyone knew that Murtagh never smiled unless Eragona was around. She gave him a childhood ; something he never had during his first 8 years of life. But Eragona...she had always been his little sunshine. With her eyes staring up to him adoringly, she'd always go on from a question to another. "What is this, 'Tagh?" "I love you 'Tagh" were the most common things coming out of her mouth. In fact, " 'Tagh" was the first thing she learned to say. Since then, she never stopped asking. Her curiosity was never satisfied ; which is why she loved the old story teller, Brom. He readily answered every questions she had, especially when she flashed puppy eyes at him.
No one could ever resist Eragona.
She always insisted to go to Brom's house. She loved going there to hear all the tales the man had to tell ; he also made Murtagh stay to read. Murtagh had previously learned to read and write with one of the more scholastic servants at Uru'baen.
Ofcourse. His father never bothered to personally teach him anything - He thought bitterly, kicking a stone off his path. It took him a little while before he reached Carvahall. The Anora river flowed peacefully, shimmering under autumn's golden light. It was a sight to behold, with the surrounding icy peaks.
As he walked through the village, most people kept stealing glances at him. Muttering, whispering things.
Here's Murtagh, son of none. His mother was probably a concubine, the mistress of a wealthy Lord and had illegitimate children with him. Or was she a whore? Here's Murtagh, the cold and angry one. Here's Murtagh, the wealthiest man of Carvahall - do you think that he's a bandit? How much money has he stolen? Here's Murtagh, handsome but unpleasant. Here's Murtagh, who is litterate. Here's Murtagh, the polar opposite to Eragona - how could they be true siblings when they are so different?
They are both beautiful. In that way, they are not so dissimilar- one would answer.
These are some of the things people said behind his back since he came with his mother. They were wary of him ; him, and his strange demeanour. A child who would not play with other children ; a child with a cold wit and a sharp tongue. A child which sire's unknown - many villagers discouraged their own children to play with Murtagh . Some even went on about how Murtagh was the child of a demon - oh the irony. If only they knew..
Yet, Eragona never faced the same torment. As much as he was estranged, she was always welcomed. Murtagh never blamed her ; who could NOT love that little doll? Always warm and smiley. Murtagh was thankful that she had been able to grow away from the clutches of Morzan.
However, not all villagers alienated Murtagh. Some, like Horst for instance, would look at him in a different angle. They grew to care for him, for they could see the tormented child behind the ice.
As he passed by, some would nod at him in aknowledgement. Others, such as Albriech, would wave happily.
Snapped out of his thoughts as he stood in front of Brom's house, he was about to knock when the door opened.