Hello folks!! I have finally mannaged to update my beloved Darkest of Blue Skies. I hope this chapter lives up to your expecations!
Have a good one!
Chapter 10: Beautiful Blur
When Nasuada was a child things had been simple, she could not have imagined it any other way. This was why she felt such a stab of pain when she thought of Elva. Every time she had been with the child, a striking dread unlike any other always creped upon her. It was a feeling so intensely hopeless and unnerving, that the dread would soon lead to the unmistakable feeling of fear, and Nasuada did not fear.
Nasuada felt that sensation now, standing in front of the dusty pink pavilion that Elva called 'home'. She could not bring herself to pull back the tarp that was blowing wildly in the dry wind, and enter the gloomy presence of the child she pitied, despised, even feared above all else. Nasuada took a deep breath and reached out her hands slowly, almost painfully in attempt to catch the dancing tarp but instead brought them down as fast as lightning to sword hilt at her waist. In milliseconds she had yanked out her sword and was facing an approaching stranger.
"Oi," an angry masculine voice erupted from Nasuada's left, "Watch where you're swinging that thing!"
Nasuada lowered her sword cautiously into its stealth, peering at stoned faced Roran through her curtain of silky hair. She had a hard time deciding if he was serious or not.
Awkwardly Roran cleared his throat, "I was…um… joking." He said lamely, trying to attempt a smile, but instead making his face look like a squashed pumpkin.
Nasuada sighed, "Not to worry," she whispered, still struggling with her feelings of anguish towards the dusty pink pavilion.
They stood there silently for what seemed like ages until Roran said rather harshly, "Listen… do you know when my cousin will get back?"
Nasuada swept back her hair gracefully, "I do not know."
"Was there no messengers, no letters, giving you any idea when he would return?"
"None."
Roran eyes flashed, "None at all?"
"None." Nasuada answered again, wondering why Roran was acting so strange.
Roran stared at her, his battled scared face looking deep into Nasuada's eyes, he sighed, "Could you read this to me?" he said, handing over a folded piece of parchment with Eragon's edgy writing on it. Nasuada looked at it, doubtful if she should read it. Beside her Roran made a weird jerking movement, as if he were going to snatch the paper back, but instead ran his hands through his hair.
"I don't see why he left it for me," he said bitterly, "He well knows I can't read."
Nasuada looked up at his tormented face. Deep shadows carved his dominating face, twisting features which were once pleasant into harsh lines. He looked old, yet more like a neglected orphan, afraid, alone, and without a family. Agony and desperation were written there, plain as day, and Nasuada's heart sang with pity. She sighed deeply, and slowly unfolded the parchment. She stared at it intently, her brow forming a crease between her eyes. She stood there for what felt like forever, her eyes watering.
Roran looked worried, "Well?"
Nasuada gulped, "It says," she glanced towards him, her eyes glazed with a strange defiance, "Dear Roran, I know you must be angry. I never thought we would have to part so soon; it was a difficult for me to leave without a word, or without fulfilling my promise to help you get Katrina back from the empire. I know you love her, and I know that you will not wait for me to return before you set out to find her. But I beg you, stay with the Varden, wait for me, I have information and powers about the Ra'zac that can help you. I do not know when I will be back, nor do I have a clue as to what awaits me in Ellesmera, but please stay, wait for me; You are family, and that is just as important to me as ever. Your cousin, Eragon."
Roran took a deep breath, blinking rapidly, "He thinks I would wait for him, after all he has done to this family he expects me to wait," Rorans voice shook. "Like family is all that important to him! He left, without a thought; he left my father for dead!" Roran sputtered for a moment his face contorted with grief, "Katrina is gone! Probably dead, and he expects me to wait!"
Nasuada shut her eyes tight, "Katrina who is she?" Nasuada asked softly.
"She is my fiancée." He snapped, as if it were common knowledge.
Nasuada looked Roran straight in the eyes and seemed to be thinking something over, "Don't wait for Eragon, the Varden will help you get her back."
Roran looked speechless. He sputtered for a few moments until at last he spoke. "I owe you. Thank-you, so much I…"
"Don't worry about it," Nasuada interrupted, "We all have loved and lost, I just hope your love can be found."
Roran nodded. "I hope so too."
Nasuada smiled, "But now I really must be going. Elva has been wanting to see me." And without waiting for her horrible fear to return, she caught the swaying tarp and strode purposely into the dark and musty pavilion.
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Eragon woke up to find Saphira's head directly above his and her mind gently probing his consciousness.
Saphira, Eragon whispered with his mind, still weak, still confused, and still in a great deal of pain.
Little one, Saphira said softly, her eyes brimmed with pools of tears, how are you feeling?
Like I was tossed in a pot of boiling water, joked Eragon feebly, but Saphira did not laugh, Instead she shook he giant head, and spoke to someone else in the room.
He must be told.
Eragon tried to look around but found he still could not move, what? Tell me what…Saphira?
But Saphira ignored him, and he heard other voices in the room.
"I agree," said the Queens eremitic tone.
"As do I," rang the delicate voice of Ayra.
"But is it too soon?"
Eragon's heart froze, Oromis? How close to dieing was he? He would have never expected them to send for Oromis; wouldn't that jeopardize the keeping of the elves biggest secret?
Oromis' question went unanswered, until another dragon's voice pierced their minds. He will have to find out sooner or later, Glaedr said.
"Yes," Angela whispered, "For him to get any better, it could take weeks. Besides, he has a right to know."
"Very well," Queen Islanzadi said, as she glided over to where Eragon was laying. Sooner that Eragon expected Queen Islanzadi's head appeared in his vision, and for the first time since he woke up he noticed his vision was blurry.
"Eragon," she said, "We have news, grave news; important news." She paused, for reasons Eragon could not tell, and looked behind her. "Come here."
Eragon was now beyond confused, and wanted to scream, "Just tell me what is going on already!" But before he could do this a hazy figure appeared at his peripheral and for a moment he thought it was Elva. Shit! He wanted to avoid her for as long as possible. But upon closer inspection, he realized that this girl was an elf, therefore she could not be Elva. She had chocolate colored curls pinned up with a strange greenish purple ribbon. Her skin was dark for an elf, like the color of an olive, and her eyes were a dazzling hazel-green. She was wearing a clean white tunic with dark ragged jeans. Eragon could tell that she was beautiful, even through his blurry eyes, and she had a kind of confident and youthful joy about her, and Eragon noticed, with a start, that she was crying.
Eragon wanted to comfort her, and tried with difficulty to speak, "Wh-What is w-w-wrong?"
The girl smiled sadly. "I just…I'm Ella and…," she stopped as her voice choked. She closed her eyes for a while then said "Freair, come here."
Eragon watched in amazement as the ribbon in her hair came alive, and fluttered to his chest. But soon he realized that it wasn't a ribbon at all, rather a flying creature with a small reptilian head and petite wings. Eragon cried out in agony as the creatures' claws touched his bare chest. Ella sobbed, reaching to pick up the creature, and as her smooth skin touched Eragon; he felt a flutter in the pit of his stomach, a feeling like none he had ever felt before.
"This is Freair." She whimpered, "He's my dragon."
Eragon almost fainted. A dragon! What?
"Show him what you can do," Ella whispered to the dragon. Freair looked at her respectfully, and after a moment scaled down Ella's arm, landing softly on his hand. Ella leaned forwards and timidly grasped Eragon's hand. Again the strange sensation began in Eragon's stomach as if he felt oddly nervous.
"This might hurt," she said, "But no one else has managed to cure you, so…"
"I trust you." Eragon whispered knowing it was true, and regardless, he felt like he couldn't be in any more pain as he already was.
Ella looked at Saphira, I am with him, she said. Ella nodded firmly and closed her eyes, slightly squeezing his hand. She seemed to glow, and with her, Freair and Eragon did as well. The glow grew stronger and stronger until it seemed to burst.
Eragon screeched. He was wrong, the pain he felt now made the ache he felt before seem like nothing. His head pounded and his skin seared. From what felt like miles away he heard Saphira coaxing him. Her voice grew fainter and fainter until he heard it no more.
Eragon could not bear it. It felt like Durza was striking him down again and again and just as Eragon thought for sure he would die, he felt his consciousness slip away.