Author's Note:
If any of you have read Annonimous' Dragons, then you'll see that this chapter is very much like hers at the same point. This is because my story was loosely inspired by hers. Make no mistake, the story plots will diverge soon.
Disclaimer: I own neither the Elder Scrolls nor The Inheritance Cycle. Both belong to Bethesda Game Studios and Christopher Paolini respectively.
They had been on the move for nearly the entirety of another day, and Haleth could feel the searing heat from the sun above them. Though the trio had walked and run without words, Haleth could sense that Eragon and Arya were speaking privately between themselves—telepathy, he assumed.
Haleth looked behind him to check that Frost was still following and faced away again, reaching for his waterskin. Not since his ventures into Hammerfell had he been this hot—as a Nord, he was used to the cold, and had only really developed a resistance to heat after his long travels through Hammerfell and the southern provinces of Tamriel. it was no way near as strong as that of say, the Redguards or the Khajiit, but he could cope. Taking a small sip of his water, Haleth sighed, before turning towards Eragon.
"…Bergan, was it?"
The elf-man turned to face Haleth, a questioning look on his face. "Yes?"
"That's not your real name, is it? And neither is Katrina hers." He motioned towards Arya, who had also turned to look at Haleth.
The two elves simply stared, appearing a little shocked, as if they had not expected Haleth to find out. After a few seconds, they finally regained their composure. "No… no, it is not. Eragon is my name, and she is Arya." The elf frowned, as if doubtful. "How did you know?"
"When you introduced yourselves, you did not seem to really hold heart in those names—you were simply wearing them, for lack of a better term."
This only served to confuse Eragon. "Well, that… that definitely explains things." The elf turned around, clearly not the least bit understanding, yet not wanting to open further discussion. Haleth was happy to oblige him.
A few hours later, Haleth could see a camp, of sorts—tents, makeshift buildings, and other amenities. The Varden, it seemed, and his suspicions were affirmed by Eragon not moments later.
"We made it! Murtagh, Thorn, hundreds of soldiers, Galbatorix's pet magicians, the Ra'zac—none of them could catch us." Eragon seemed elated, excited even, to have finally reached the Varden, laughing in what seemed like contempt. "How's that for taunting the king? This'll tweak his beard for sure when he hears of it."
Haleth made sure to file all of these names and objects in his brain—Murtagh, some sort of agent, maybe? A rival? Thorn, another of the same sort, most likely. Galbatorix's pet magicians—he thought mages were scorned in this land. And, there it was again, the Ra'zac. The same names he hears uttered by the soldiers in the tavern. Whatever these all were, they had apparently failed to catch Eragon and Arya. If the king had put this many resources into catching Eragon, then…
Then the two elves were valuable targets indeed. Haleth made sure to flag this within his mind.
"He will be twice as dangerous then." This was the first time Haleth heard Arya speak. A graceful voice, but also that of a stoic leader. He chuckled internally.
"I know. Maybe he'll get so angry, he'll forget to pay his troops and they will all throw away their uniforms and join the Varden."
Unlikely. Foolish, even.
"You are in fine fettle today."
"And why shouldn't I be?" Eragon demanded. Haleth looked to the distance, to see two patrols of cavalrymen riding towards them. As he readied himself for a potential conflict, Haleth out of the corner of his eye Eragon's expression of elation at… something else? Another telepathic companion?
Wait.
What was that feeling? His dragon soul was calling out to him, singing to him, which only happened when…
Dragon!
Haleth looked up, immediately whipping his sword from its sheath and making ready. There! The silhouette was silhouette by the sun behind it, yet Haleth could see the distinct form of a dragon. Was it friendly? Hostile? Haleth did not know, and he would not take chances.
It descended, roaring as it did so, and a stream of fire emerged from its muzzle, searing the air. Strange – Haleth did not sense a thu'um. The dragon landed with a thunderous crash, and Haleth could see it in full—as blue as a sapphire, and… graceful? The ground beneath his feet rumbled, and Haleth, were it not for his years of experience fighting dragons, would have fallen to the ground. His eyes glazed over the dragon as he held his sword and…
Four legs?
There, in front of him, was a dragon that had two forelegs instead of wings, the feet equipped with talons that seemed sharp enough to cleave a man in two. Even more dangerous, harder to flank… maybe this is what Lorkhan was talking about when he said his world's dragons were different.
Haleth looked upon the dragon, he noticed something odder still than its legs. The way it handled itself, the way it moved… everything about it screamed "female" to him. Were there even female dragons? As far as Haleth was aware, dragons did not reproduce—they were all creations of Akatosh himself. This dragon, with all its differences, drove home the fact that the dragons of this land... Alagaesia, were more complex than he had first imagined.
Eragon, not noticing the hostility Haleth displayed, rushed forwards, as if ecstatic, and embraced the dragon to the best of his ability, leaping onto it in fully displayed love. For her part, Arya stood in front of Haleth, gesturing for him to lower his sword. Complying, but not sheathing it, Haleth looked in wonder at the display of absolute adoration. Arya turned around, waving to the dragon. "Greetings, Saphira."
Saphira? What a non-draconic name. Curious.
How should he greet this dragon, Haleth wondered, now that it had shown itself to be friendly? Back home, Haleth would converse with dragons as if he was one himself—as he was, using the general greetings of fire breath, of conversations in the language of the dragons. He was not sure breathing fire onto this… Saphira would help matters. Instead, Haleth simply resigned himself to the ancient dragon language.
"Drem yol lok, dovah."
The dragon turned to face him, as if shocked or surprised. "Greetings, human…"
Haleth blinked—was the dragon speaking inside his head?
"Surprised, are you? What was that language you spoke?" Eragon looked at him, a curious look on his face.
Haleth shook the thought from his mind, focusing on the present. "It is of no matter, I am just not used to… telepathy, is all. As for the language… that is of no matter as well."
Eragon simply frowned, not clearly having not expected that answer. "There is no need to fear Saphira, Haleth."
Haleth looked at Eragon, almost furious with his words, but let the matter drop. The riders had reached them at that point, and after a brief discussion, Eragon and Arya left with them, motioning for Haleth to follow. The Dragonborn followed closely, keeping a moderate distance from Saphira as she crawled along the ground. They passed into the camp, and Haleth took note of the awe-filled glances and shouts of praise the people sent his companions' way. Ah, so they are… heroes, of a sort. Good to know…
Soon, they had come across a troupe of what seemed to be elves—one elf, in particular, looked more like a fusion of elf, wolf, and cat than anything else, and seemed to be the leader. Haleth waited for them to end their discussion, taking his time to gaze upon the Varden.
Just as they considered Eragon a hero, the people regarded Haleth with suspicion, gazing upon the man clad in black as if he was a danger to them, a rare, yet threatening curiosity. They did not know who he was, but took his weapons and attire for a sense of danger. Good. He was not some simple pawn, and would not be used as such.
Who was the first person Haleth had acquiesced to? He was a Nord, after all, a member of a proud and honorable race. He was not some mindless weapon to be taken advantage of, he was the Dragonborn—a formidable foe in and of himself, be it through military or political means. The first mortal Haleth had formally served was Titus Mede III, well after the Civil War and the Dragon Crisis. The man was honorable. Young, but he had the markings of a great leader, fashioned after Uriel Septim the Great. Haleth had seen the potential in the boy, and had decided to serve him.
No other mortal had been given that honor before.
Haleth ripped himself back to the present when he noticed that the party was once more on the move. Eragon had motioned towards one of the guards, and the same guard beckoned for Haleth to follow him. He did so, and the two eventually arrived at a tent, similar to those within the rest of the camp.
"This is where you'll stay for the day. There are formal matters to attend to, but Lady Nightstalker will likely desire to meet with you early tomorrow." The soldier nodded, turning to leave. "A courier will come to you tomorrow morning."
Haleth watched as the soldier left, and then turned around, gazing upon the interior of the tent. A simple bed, a small desk, and a chest. This pleased Haleth—he was not a man of décor, he was a simple man. He set his gear down, and after a few minutes had completely cleared himself of his arms and armor, besides his undershirt and trousers. Sitting upon the bed, Haleth simply cleared his mind and rested.
Haleth awoke early the next day, feeling quite refreshed overall. He had just gotten completely dressed, armed, and armored when a young boy entered his tent.
"Erm, ser? Our Lady requests that you meet her in her pavilion as soon as you can."
Haleth simply turned to stare at the boy, before nodding. The courier, by this point nervous and anxious, did not hesitate in leaving, nearly sprinting out of the tent. Haleth took a few moments to affirm that his gear was in order, before leaving for the center pavilion. On the way, he picked up a loaf of bread to eat, sating his growing hunger as he walked. Along the way, he could still see that those of the Varden who were awake this early in the day met his gaze with apprehension, wary of Haleth himself. Eventually finding his way to the main pavilion, he was stopped by a set of vicious looking guards.
Some were simple humans, and there were other, stranger creatures—some sort of miniature person, with heavyset beards across their faces. Large beings that reminded Haleth of orcs, yet possessed fierce-looking horns. Frankly, they would be intimidating to the common man—though Haleth was not the common man.
"Halt. Who goes there?" One of the orc-like beings stopped him, holding out a green-skinned hand.
"Haleth. Your Lady Nightstalker was supposed to meet me?"
The orc seemed to acknowledge the name, and motioned for Haleth to enter. "She is in the middle of an audience, right now. Enter quietly." Haleth nodded in turn, brushing past the orc.
Upon entering, Haleth took in the sight of the pavilion. It was mostly empty, with a row of chairs arranged in a semicircle around a throne. Within the throne sat a woman, ebony-skinned with a rather fierce, determined visage upon her—eerily similar to the Redguards back in Tamriel. She wore linen bandages across her arms—possibly she had been recently wounded. She had been in battle, then, and these injuries would either be a mark of weakness or proof of her courage. Haleth would have to see for himself.
In front of her sat Eragon, a small girl and an old crone. He could see Arya, the elf, standing near the woman, her arms crossed. Haleth nearly jumped when he saw the head of the dragon from earlier, Saphira, poking in through the side of the tent. A… cat, of sorts, sat beside the dragoness, sleeping. As he entered, all the heads in the pavilion turned towards him, and Haleth gave a hard stare towards the dark-skinned woman, whom Haleth assumed was this… Lady Nightstalker. A curious name.
"You sent for me?"
The woman frowned, as if offended. Haleth wondered what he had done wrong, until one of the guards approached him. "The Lady Nightstalker requires your respect, you lout. Bow to her."
Haleth turned his head towards the guard, cocking it sideways. He was a little irked—bow, to her? A woman Haleth had no reason to bow to, no respect for, and no knowledge of? The guard, obviously angered at Haleth's action, or lack thereof, grasped his polearm and made ready to force Haleth to bow, when the Lady raised her hand.
"There is no need for that." She regarded Haleth with a threatening curiosity, as if gauging him. "Your name is Haleth, yes? Eragon has told me about you."
Haleth nodded, waiting for her to continue.
"It's been made known that you are quite… reticent. That you avoided answering most of his questions. He suspects that you are withholding information, as do I. So…" The woman paused for effect, still analyzing Haleth. "We, in the Varden, do not know where your loyalties lie. The easiest way to find out the truth is to read your mind. Quick, painless, you'll hardly feel anything inside your thoughts. Unless we find reason to the contrary, we will permit you to join the Varden afterwards."
"You can try, but you won't succeed."
Lady Nightstalker, as well as everyone else in the tent, seemed rather taken aback by Haleth's hostile words, and several guards apparently felt the need to draw their weapons. For her part, the woman frowned, as if affronted. "There is no other way to affirm your loyalties, Haleth. It will be no trouble if you let us read your mind."
"Like I said, you can try. I don't guarantee you'll get much out of it. Most likely, your… mages, I assume, will go insane. You can risk it, if you so desire." As he spoke, he noticed the little girl staring at him with a piercing gaze, as if scrutinizing every bone in his body with her violet eyes.
"I assure you, Haleth, that Blodhgarm, one of the elves, is quite able to read any mind. It will be no problem."
"Then let him try."
The leader of the Varden nodded, before sending a guard off. A few moments later, the guard returned, with the elf from the day before with him. Haleth took a few moments to get a better look at the elf—blue fur? Wolfish and feline characteristics, as if the elf was melded with several different animals. The wolf inside Haleth could also sense a sort of aura, or musk around Blodgharm—it would have been beautiful to a normal human, especially to women, but to Haleth, it was simply a mess of things.
Blodhgarm approached Haleth, staring him in the eyes. Haleth returned the stare with an equal amount of rigid fortitude, and the elf muttered a few words. Immediately, Haleth's sight turned black, and he felt a needle-like sensation attempting to dig its way into his head.
The needle struggled, yet ultimately passed through Haleth's exterior defenses, driving its way into his mind. It probed through for a brief time, before Blodgharm experienced the same chaos as Eragon had earlier as Haleth's multiple souls drove him furiously back. After what seemed like a few seconds, the elf was unable to resist any longer, and extracted the probe with a relatively painless jerk, bringing Haleth back into reality,
The elf, Blodgharm, fell back – Haleth knew his mind would now be reeling with hundreds of different sensations. Carefully and cautiously, the elf returned to his feet, giving Haleth an almost scared look. Once more, the guards in the room tightened their holds on their weapons, and as Blodgharm approached Lady Nightstalker, she glared at Haleth. The Dragonborn could see Saphira regarding him out of the corner of his eye, her eyes twinkling with interest.
Blodgharm spoke quietly with the leader of the Varden, and as they spoke, Haleth could see the Redguard-like woman narrowing her eyes. Finally, she turned towards Haleth, her visage as hard as stone. "Haleth, I do not know what you did, but I'm afraid Blodgharm was not able to attain much from you. We still do not know where your allegiances are." She took a breath, before continuing. "We will have to contain you while we discuss this situation further, and determine a different way to find out whether or not we can trust you."
When she finished, several of the guards approached Haleth, drawing their weapons. In response, Haleth drew his sword, dropping into a combat stance. The guards hesitated, but then walked towards Haleth once more, albeit slower.
"I have to ask you to stand down, Haleth. None of us want a fight in here, and I'm sure you are quite against dying," the woman said coldly.
"I have no intentions of being held as a prisoner, Nightstalker. You underestimate me, and I can easily leave here to join the Empire. The king seems like a better choice by every second." Haleth was interrupted when one of the guards, a human, yelled a battlecry, charging at Haleth with his sword raised high. He brought it down, fully intending to cleave Haleth in two, but was surprised when his sword was caught against the crossguard of Haleth's sword. The Dragonborn wrenched it to the side, before punching the guard's stomach, bringing his sword's pommel down on the man's head. The guard fell with a clunk, unconscious.
Haleth spun around, kicking another guard back to the ground, and was about to slay the man when a loud cry stopped him.
"Stop!" He turned to see Arya holding her hand up, causing the guards to cease their actions.
"Arya?" Lady Nightstalker turned towards the elf, a questioning look on her face. In turn, Arya faced her.
"Lady Nasuada," Ah, so that was her name. "I do not think attacking this man would bring about any good."
"What do you mean?" Nasuada asked.
"I agree, Nasuada—this Haleth is not a normal man, by any means. He appeared quite willing to fight Saphira in single combat earlier, so make no mistake, he must be capable." She turned towards him, glaring at the Nord. "It would be a waste to throw a potential ally away."
Nasuada eyed her curiously, yet still seemed to be considering her remark. "What do you intend to do?"
"I'll duel him, to the yield. See how well he does. We can question him later, and I fully intend to. But, for now, it would not do to antagonize him like this."
Nasuada seemed to reflect on Arya's words, before coming to a decision. "Very well. Arya, take Haleth outside, test him. We will follow."
Arya nodded before leaving the tent, motioning for Haleth to follow her. He did, and Nasuada, Blodgharm, Eragon, and Saphira followed, the latter obviously eager to see the duel.
A few minutes later, Haleth found himself on the opposite end of a makeshift arena, his sword drawn as he faced Arya. The elf, for her part, carried her own sword in her left hand with what looked to be a single-handed style, readying herself. Not a few moments before, Arya had taken both his and her swords, appearing to dull the edges with magic. A crowd had gathered, despite the guards' actions, and Haleth could see bets being made.
It seemed they favored Arya. She must be quite the combatant, for them to have such confidence in her abilities.
Nearby, Nasuada stood, gazing silently at the proceedings. With a wave of her hands, the duel began, and Haleth readied himself. With two hands on his sword, he held it to the side, beckoning for Arya to attack him.
And attack him she did, as with blinding speed she rushed towards Haleth. Her strike towards the Dragonborn was near invisible to most, but Haleth's experienced eyes saw it coming, and he spun to the side, bringing his sword up to parry her next attack. He twisted his blade, gaining the advantage, and while her sword was still caught against his crossguard, he pressed forwards aiming towards Arya's heart. However, before the thrust could land, Arya rolled back, her eyes narrowed as she judged Haleth under a new light. Haleth had a feeling she knew this fight would not be easy – and he knew it wouldn't be, too.
This time, Haleth took the initiative, rushing towards her with his sword readied. He could see the counter that Arya prepared, and after bringing his sword down, rolled under Arya's strike, coming up behind the elf. He stabbed forwards, only to have his sword deflected. The elf struck once more, swinging her sword from the side, and Haleth stepped inside her guard, catching the blade against the edge of his. Forcing both swords down, he jabbed at Arya with his elbow, catching her in the chest. She took a few steps back, flinching, and Haleth hit her sword to the side before raising it high.
He brought it down with force, planning to render her unconscious, but was suddenly stopped by Arya's desperate two-handed block. The elf kicked him backwards, but Haleth rolled off the blow, bringing his sword back up to ready himself for their next engagement. Once again, he attacked first, bringing his sword up to parry a cut before jabbing inwards with the pommel of his sword. To Haleth's surprise, Arya caught the sword's hilt, twisting her arm to side. The Nord, surprised at Arya's great strength, was forced to flip through the air over his sword, landing back on his feet. He brought his blade up again as if to slice Arya in half, creating a large opening in his defense.
Arya took the chance, thrusting inwards with extraordinary speed. However, Haleth revealed his feint, rolling under the thrust. He came up to a knee behind Arya, bringing his sword back in reverse grip. It slid into the space in the back of Arya's knees, and she fell with a cry. Haleth turned around, bringing his sword down upon her.
To see that while his sword sat against Arya's face, hers had come to land over his heart.
They held the position for a few seconds, before an enormous amount of applause and cheers erupted from the crowd. Arya stood back up, nodding towards Haleth, and he turned towards the crowd, a slight glare in his eyes. He could see that most of the people were excited by the duel, the adrenaline pumping in their blood. While most of those that had bet were grumbling slightly, Haleth could see the odd person with a shit-eating grin upon their face. The Nord gave a small chuckle, before turning back towards Arya and Nasuada.
"So, Arya? What do you think?" Nasuada questioned.
The elf did not answer, taking a few seconds to look over Haleth, before deciding upon an answer. "He is good, I'll give him that much. Especially for a… human, I guess." She turned towards Nasuada, nodding her head. "We can question him another day, Nasuada. For now, we should all call it a night."
It was true. The sun had fallen by now, and the moon had risen, shining its dim light upon the land. Torches had been lit, and the night patrols were preparing themselves.
"Very well. Arya, you are dismissed. Haleth, you too may return to your tent. Do expect a messenger in the next few days—I would like to question you formally."
Haleth simply nodded, sheathing his sword and walking away, the crowd parting before him as he passed through it. Sleep sounded good to him.
Author's Note:
Hey, guys. Hope you all enjoyed Chaper 4 of Ye of Bygone Days. Please share your thoughts on the chapter, as I'll take all the help I can get.
Unfortunately, I will likely be taking a brief break from writing, maybe one to three weeks. I just feel that with College Applications, school essays and papers, and the two stories I'm writing right now, my overall quality is diminishing. Hopefully that doesn't bother you guys too much.
Individual Replies:
Vicent1995: I'm not sure whether to take your review as flaming or not, but I'll roll with it.
Honestly, it's not necessary to call it a "steeming pile of garbage." I'm not sure how you can deem Haleth as a mary sue three chapters in, when we've barely learned about him, but you have a right to your own thoughts, yes; Like I said with another reviewer, I say that the "canon," as you put it, is open to interpretation-Bethesda didn't give us clear cut answers, and I'm rolling with how I interpret the story. If you could explain what I got wrong about the canon, like "armor," which is based on mod armor, and the "nature of the dragonborn," that would help immensely; If you feel as if my characterization is wooden and annoying, please explain it and give me a helping hand. I want to see what you feel is wrong, and try to fix that.
Your three main points are, honestly, minor and unimportant, and I don't see the logic behind your reasoning, to be honest. Can you explain them, so I can better understand what's wrong.
Overall, thanks for your review, as every bit helps, but I'm still not sure whether to take it as flaming that's trying to get a rise out of me, or if you had a particularly bad day.
Hellfire44: Well, I've never heard of the Shezzarine before. Thanks for the information, I will definitely be researching that. If it's something I can adopt into my story, I definitely will. Thanks!
GoldenSteel: Thanks for your concerns. I understand them, and worried about them too. Of course, my top AN addresses that, and it's true-the story will diverge soon, as much as I can without diverging too much from the plot of the books. Haleth is a completely different character from... Colin, was his name? And will go through different things. No worries, but I can see why you thought so.
Well, that's it! Thanks for reading, guys, and see you next time.