Chapter 3
AN
Eragon will go to Middle earth for those wondering, I'm just building up to it. Also Murtagh is dead more info in AN in Chapter 1
***FIVE DAYS LATER***
Soaring over the tall pines of Du Weldenvarden, Eragon thought back on the past few days he and Saphira had spent together.
From Lake Flam, Saphira had flown them to the ancient Rider outpost of Utgard, which overlooked the Palencar valley. Together, they had entered the ruin, only to find the skeletons of Umaroth and Vrael waiting for them. Both Eragon and Saphira were filled with sadness at seeing the former Leaders of their Order reduced to bones lying in the dust.
I am still here young ones, even if my body is no more, Umaroth said to them, his voice tinged with grief. I have one request of you, if you are willing.
Anything, Ebrithil, murmured Eragon and Saphira.
Would you burn my body and my Rider's, as we did of old?
Of course, Ebrithil.
No more words were spoken. With the help of the Eldunarí, Eragon used his magic to lift the bodies of Umaroth and Vrael outside the entrance of the outpost to hover thousands of feet above the valley below. Saphira opened her jaws and breathed fire upon the two ancient Leaders. She managed to sustain her flames for over an hour, and when she finally ceased, there was nothing left but the ash slowly drifting to the floor far below. For centuries to come, the land below Utgard would remain among the most fertile in the land, and the farmers of Palencar valley became renowned for the quality of their crops.
Eragon and Saphira stayed at Utgard for two nights. In that time, they explored the ruins of the outpost, removing any dark magic Galbatorix had left behind. They also paid a visit to Carvahall. When Eragon saw his former village, it was like a blow to the stomach. He fell to his knees, horrified at what his childhood home had become.
It had been razed to the ground.
The only thing left standing was a single headstone in the graveyard. Every house in the village had been pulled down and burned. Morn's tavern was gone. So was Horst's magnificent house. The well in the centre of the village had been pulled down. Worst of all, Eragon could sense that the land in and around Carvahall had been sown with salt, preventing anything from ever growing there again. For a farming community, it would devastate the villagers when they returned. They wanted to live in their ancestral home, but they would have to find a new place to live if they could not farm.
Resolved, Eragon rose to his feet, lifted his hands and said, "Salann, risa" (salt, rise). Slowly, all around him, particles began to rise into the air. They came towards Eragon, grouping together as they did so. Eventually, there was one large piece of salt, the size of a small boulder.
Eragon released the flow of magic, and the salt dropped on to the ground in front of him. He was disgusted at how low the soldiers ransacking the town had fallen to. Even after the Carvahall had been destroyed and its inhabitants forced to leave, they had made sure that if the villagers did return, that they would not be able to stay.
Well, Eragon thought, with a grim smile, they had not counted on me. I'll give this to Roran. This amount of salt should last the whole village for a few years.
Are you alright Little One? Saphira asked concernedly. You seem both angry and pleased.
I am fine Saphira. I am angry at the soldiers who did this, but I am happy that I can turn their malice into a valuable resource for the villagers. They would never be able to afford this much salt. I suppose that every cloud does have a silver lining.
What a silly phrase, Saphira huffed, I have flown through many clouds and none of them are silver. You humans are very odd.
Eragon laughed. You are right, of course, O Mighty Dragoness, Queen of the Skies, The Great- "Ouch! Saphira what was that for?"
You were rambling. So I stopped you.
You smacked me with your tail.
Well it worked, didn't it?
"Whatever. Can you please move your tail off me so I can fix the well?"
Of course Little One.
"Grumpy dragon," Eragon muttered under his breath.
What was that you said?
Nothing.
That's what I thought.
Ten minutes later and they were in the air, flying towards Garrow's farm. Saphira set Eragon down and then wandered over to her old home among the trees.
The farm was nearly completely reclaimed by nature. Only a few wooden posts remained visible. Not wanting to stay any longer than necessary, Eragon quickly constructed a hut to leave the salt in for Roran to find, casting a few spells over it to keep out animals and the elements.
Hurrying over to Saphira, he found her with her head stuck up a tree.
I can't believe that I used to fit in here, she mused.
Me either. You were much cuter back then.
Watch it Eragon, she warned, I will drop you the next time we're flying.
You know I didn't mean it. You are the most beautiful creature to ever walk in Alagaesia, and you will always have my heart.
I love you, Eragon.
I love you too, Saphira.
The third night of their journey they spent beside Lake Isenstar. Wanting to go for a swim like they once had in Leona Lake, Saphira insisted that they visit the lake beside Gil'ead.
While they both held deep dislike for Gil'ead itself, the lake was beautiful. Deep and cool, with schools of fish, swimming was entrancing. Unlike they last time they swam together, this time Eragon was able to stay underwater much longer by ways of a spell that kept a bubble of air around his head. That night, they camped by the lakeshore, and fell asleep watching the stars.
Their fourth night they spent in the mountains in the west of Du Weldenvarden. Saphira had been there before with Glaedr, and she showed Eragon her favourite places to visit. Like the rest of the forest, the mountains were teeming with life, plant as well as animal. They saw bears and goats from the sky, as well as large herds of deer in the valleys between the mountains, which Saphira promptly terrified when she filled her belly with them. Before they went to sleep, they heard the howling of the wolves prowling the mountainside.
Eragon, we are almost there.
Eragon shook himself out of his memories, realizing that they were about to enter Ellesmera.
Did Gilderian not stop us?
He did. You seemed distracted, so I spoke with him.
Thank you, Saphira.
You are welcome, Little One.
Soon enough, Saphira was gliding down to a clearing in the elven capital. She landed with a thump, and Eragon hopped down to see Arya and Fírnen waiting for them, along with Roran and Katrina. He quickly removed her saddle, and together, Saphira and Fírnen sprang off the forest floor, flying towards the Crags of Tel'naeír and hoping to make up for the time spent apart.
Roran ran up and gave Eragon a bear hug.
"Roran, let go, I can't breathe," Eragon wheezed.
"Sorry," Roran said sheepishly. "Thank you for making us go with Arya. The things we've seen! The Beor Mountains…Farthen Dur…I've never seen anything so incredible!"
"And Ellesmera is more beautiful than I could have imagined!" Katrina added, smiling. "The trees, the flowers, the peace. It's breathtaking."
"Aye," agreed Roran, "and they've given me some ideas of how to rebuild Carvahall."
"I am glad that you are both enjoying your stay. Maybe in the next few days I could show you around the forest, but for now, would you mind if I talk to the Queen?"
"Of course not, Eragon, and we would be happy to spend some more time with you. Come on Roran," Katrina said, linking her arm with his, "we should be getting back to Ismira. Goodnight Eragon."
"Yes, have a good night, Cousin," Roran said with a sly grin and a slight nod in the direction of Arya. He and Katrina turned and wandered down a forest path, back towards Tialdarí Hall.
Eragon flushed. He attempted to calm his thoughts, and strolled over to Arya. "Astra esterní ono thelduin, Arya Drottning."
"Astra du evarínya ono varda, Eragon Shur'tugal." She smiled at him. "How was your trip?"
"Relaxing. We took our time in getting here, and we had a swim on the way." He laughed at the memory. "And how was yours?"
"More eventful, I would say. After I had met with Orik, the dwarves threw a great feast in mine and Fírnen's honour. Saphira must have been telling Fírnen about the wonders of dwarven mead, because he insisted on trying some and he became rather drunk," she said with a smirk.
"At least he didn't attempt to bow," Eragon chuckled.
Arya let out a laugh, which to Eragon's ears sounded like the tinkling of crystal. It seemed to brighten the whole clearing for a moment, and left Eragon grinning widely.
"Arya, would you care to walk with me?"
"I would enjoy that," she smiled.
So together they set out, meandering through the forest, not with any particular destination in mind, just going where their feet took them. Sometimes they talked, but mostly they just listened to the silence of the forest. Eventually, they came to the Menoa tree. They sat down side-by-side, with their backs against the trunk.
The two of them sat in the calm of the forest, soaking up the peace and letting their minds relax. After a time, Arya grasped Eragon's hand, but didn't say anything. Startled, Eragon decided to say nothing in case he ruined the moment. Instead, he gently squeezed her hand to let Arya know that he was there if she needed to talk. Closing his eyes, Eragon relaxed once more, determined to enjoy the moment.
Eventually, Arya broke the silence. "How long do you plan to stay?" she asked quietly.
Eragon sighed. "A week, maybe two."
"That little time?" Arya whispered.
Eragon tried to explain. "The sooner we leave, the sooner we can come back and establish the Dragon Riders. The dragons in those eggs have been in them long enough. They need to find their Riders as soon as possible. But we have to make sure that the world is safe for them before they come out. That is why we are leaving to explore the other lands."
"I…I understand," Arya murmured.
"We will return Arya. You will see my face again and I will hold your hand once more." He gave it a gentle squeeze. "I will come back. Wiol ono."
She looked up at him with glassy eyes, the emerald orbs glistening with unshed tears. "I will hold you to that promise," she whispered. Then she lay her head against Eragon's shoulder, closed her eyes, and drifted into her waking dreams. Eragon followed not long after.
A few hours later, when the stars were shining and the moon was high in the sky, they awoke together and stood up, their hands still clasped together. Slowly, they made their way back to Tialdarí Hall. They stopped outside the door to Arya's rooms. Standing in silence for a few moments, he summoned his courage, and kissed her on the brow.
"Goodnight Arya."
With a final squeeze, he let go of her hand and quickly left the building before he lost the will to do so. He returned to his treehouse, and after a few minutes of climbing opened the door to his residence.
Before collapsing into bed, he noted that Saphira must still be with Fírnen, for her cushion was empty.
Although neither knew it, both Eragon and Arya had dreams that night. Dreams filled with the other, the one that held their heart.
AN
Not bad, eh? Well, at least, not too bad in my most humble opinion. The word 'salann' is the Irish word for salt in case anyone was interested.
Also, has anyone ever noticed that Isenstar lake looks very like the Republic of Ireland with Northern Ireland missing?
Thank you for reading! Please review! NymeriaBjartskular