Disclaimer: I don't own the Inheritance Cycle or "Iron" by Woodkid.
Chapter 3: Despair (Part 1)
Deep in the ocean, dead and cast away,
Eragon faded and out of the world. His perception of time was screwed since he was never awake long enough to measure the passing of time. Shapes drifted in and out of his field of vision. Occasionally, water and other liquids were forced down his throat. As time passed, he felt sad. From what he could overhear, his attempt hadn't worked. Now he was at the mercy of the king. Strangely he did not fear the impeding torture. The fact that he was alone hurt more. He was lost now, lost to everyone. Eragon might as well be dead.
where innocence is burned... in flames.
Death would be slow now. Slow and painful. He had no way of speeding it up.
A million mile from home, I'm walking ahead.
He wouldn't give in though. He was still a Rider, and he couldn't fail everyone. Even if they didn't care for him, he still held a strong affection towards them. A noise broke into his thoughts.
"Is he healed?" The voice was silky, and it held a terrible tone of command.
"Enough for questioning."
"Very well, bring him to his new home." The words were said with a hint of excitement.
'So it begins,' Eragon thought as he was dragged to his feet. He offered no resistance as chains were placed around his wrists and ankles. A sudden stabbing pain in his neck told him that he was being injected with something. His mind grew cloudy. The young Rider recognized the poison. It was the same one that was used in Gil'ead. It would prevent him from using magic. The dose must have been higher, since he couldn't even use his thoughts to harness magic. 'Guess they learned their lesson,' he thought grimly.
I'm frozen to the bones, I am.
It was getting cold now. Not even the torches mounted on the wall offered a sliver of heat. He felt the cold seep into his body as they stopped by a thick metal slab adorned with locks. Anticipation froze him to the core.
A soldier on my own, I don't know the way.
I'm riding up the heights... of shame.
The chains were replaced with new ones. He dangled from the far wall by his arms. He suddenly laughed. Look at him! The great Rider, strung up like a common thief! It was laughable. As his maniacal laughter rang throughout the cell, the soldiers grew nervous. They rushed to complete their tasks and almost bolted from the room. The laughter died to giggles. He was no longer a Rider; he was a captured soldier with one duty: to carry the secrets of the Varden to the grave.
I'm waiting for the call, the hand on the chest.
I'm ready for the fight... and fate.
What was taking them so long? He had all the time in the world now, but it was worse being alone, just waiting. Then again, that might be the beginning of his torture.
The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head.
The thunder of the drums dictates
the rhythm of the falls, the number of deaths,
the rising of the horns... ahead.
The door opened. The outline of a man stood in the doorway. "Hello Eragon."
"Your Majesty." Eragon said in a mock tone of respect.
"Well, you certainly have more manners than your masters." He seemed quite amused. "They were quite rude when I last talked to them."
"To be fair, they were a middle of fight. They did not have the time to compose themselves."
"True…" The word stretched out, lingering in the air. The king stepped into the cell. "Perhaps you will be more willing to reason with me. You know my offer."
Eragon's polite smile didn't falter. "Oh yes, I was treated to a vision as to what would happen if I accepted. It was quite vivid. I have to say, your talent of manipulating the mind was not exaggerated. However…" He paused, "I thought I gave my response…how long ago was it?"
From the dawn of time to the end of days,
I will have to run... away.
"Only three days. I attended to you myself."
"I'm honored." The polite tone now held a hint of mocking.
"As to your answer, well it was quite explosive. I would have thought a simple 'no' would have be enough. It was not necessary to try blow up half of the castle. It took much effort to contain the blast. In fact…doing so actually hurt. You managed to overpower my wards. It was quite a spell."
I want to feel the pain and the bitter taste...
of the blood on my lips... again.
"Pity that you can't use that trick again. The drugs I had injected into you and the enchantments in this room will prevent you for casting any kind of magic"
Eragon shrugged as best as he could. "It was meant to be a last resort. Still," he looked the king directly in the eye. His polite tone turned as cold as ice, "Let's skip these pleasantries. The answer is no."
"Very well," The voice turned eager, "Let's begin!"
This steady burst of snow is burning my hands.
I'm frozen to the bones, I am.
Within an hour, screams started to echo through the room.
A million mile from home, I'm walking away.
I can't remind your eyes, your face.