Here's another chapter. It'll get happier I promise.
-Title-
He knew he couldn't sit there forever. He got up and started pacing trying to figure out what to do. He didn't want people to know him as Eragon Shade Slayer the former rider.
He glanced down at his palm; his Gedwey Agnaesia was fading away. It was no longer silver, just a slightly brighter oval shape on his palm.
"I am one of four beings ever to have their souls ripped and half and survive." He mused aloud. The first was Kiselt one of the first Dragons to acquire a rider. The second was Ajax one of the riders of old. And the last was Brom.
As had been Saphira's dying wish he did not die. He had promised her he would live happily for the rest of his years.
So he had hardened his heart and severed his connection with Saphira forevermore. The world seem much colder now. Everything seemed to be less important, nothing significant. He had killed Galbatorix Murtagh Thorn Shurikan, hell he had wiped out two whole races during his life. The Ra'Zac and the dragons, both extinct. Well the dragons weren't extinct quite yet but they would be soon. The last dragon egg in the entire world rested somewhere in Nasuada's newly constructed castle.
He took out Glaedr's Eldunari and stared at it. He could ask Glaedr for advice. Glaedr had not deemed to speak since Oromis's death but maybe he would now, now that he was avenged. He extended his consciousness toward the glowing golden orb. He made contact with Glaedr's mind. Not much was going on. Glaedr allowed Eragon free entry, he did not try to push him away nor did he speak.
Glaedr?
…
Glaedr please answer, Galbatorix is dead! You and Oromis have been avenged!
…
He withdrew from what was left of Glaedr's mind with a sigh. He stopped pacing and started walking back to Carvahall. Nearly all of the Villagers had returned after the war was over.
I could just live here. He thought absently. He did not want to speak to any of the villagers. It would only provoke painful memories he did no think he could deal with.
He circumvented the village and walked farther up the road toward Therinsford. He circumvented that village as well and kept walking hardly breaking for rest or sustenance. His elvish strength and vitality carried him farther then he and Brom had ever gone even on horses. He traveled for four days then arrived at Dras Leona.
He was wearing a headband to conceal his pointed ears and he had not shaved since Saphira died. He looked like any other traveler, grime stained and poor. He passed the guards without incident and walked inside. He made for Angela's old shop wondering if she had gone back to it.
Before he had gone two blocks of the huge city someone grabbed him from behind.
"That's a pretty sword you got there." He said in a gravelly voice pointing at Eragon's hip where Brisingr rested.
"Indeed." Eragon agreed without attempting to resist the man. The man pressed a knife to his neck.
"How about handing it over and no one will get hurt." His ragged breathing hot on his neck.
"I don't want any trouble I am a free man passing through this city."
"There won't be any trouble if you hand over that sword there."
Without another word Eragon grabbed the mans forearms and flipped him over. The robber's breath whooshed out.
"You would do well to leave this city and never return. I will report this incident to the guards in two hours time; I suggest you be gone by then." Eragon said and started walking away.
The man struggled to his feet and threw the knife at Eragon's back. Fast as lightning Eragon spun around and caught the knife.
"Jierda." He muttered and the knife shattered. He dropped the handle on the ground and continued walking leaving the wide eyed man in the alley.
As he walked he thought of Arya. The one woman he had ever loved. Then he thought of Roran and Katrina who would surely be helping to rebuild Carvahall and their lives.
Maybe it isn't so bad after all. If they can come out of the ashes and live happily why can't I?
Yeah uh sorry about this random ending point.