AN Many, many apologies for the long delay. I've had a lot of schoolwork and not much time for writing. Hope you enjoy this chapter. NymeriaBjartskular
Chapter 4
The following week in Ellesmera was one of the happiest Eragon could remember since he had left Carvahall so long ago.
In the mornings he read books and scrolls from the library in Tialdarí Hall and from Oromis' hut. During the afternoons he chatted with Roran and Katrina about life before the war, while exploring the beauty of Du Weldenvarden. His evenings were spent with Arya, the two of them wandering the forest in silence, simply revelling in each other's company. He did not see much of Saphira during this time. She and Fírnen kept mostly to themselves away on the Crags.
Eight days after his arrival in Ellesmera, Eragon, Saphira, Arya, Fírnen and the Eldunarí gathered under the Menoa tree, along with the elves finest spellcasters and the Caretakers; the elf women Iduna and Neya.
First, they removed some of the wards surrounding Du Weldenvarden that would not allow scrying. Then, Eragon began the incantation.
(From Inheritence)
The Caretakers disrobed, and – in accordance with the ancient rituals – Eragon and the others began to sing, and as they sang, Iduna and Neya danced, moving together so that the dragon tattooed across them seemed to become a single unified creature.
At the height of the song, the dragon shimmered, and then it opened its jaws and stretched its wings and leaped forward, pulling itself off the elves' skin and rising above the clearing until only its tail remained touching the intertwined Caretakers.
Eragon called to the glowing creature, and when he had its attention, he explained to it what he wanted and asked if the dragons would agree.
Do as you will, Kingkiller, said the spectral creature. If it will help ensure peace throughout Alagaesia, we do not object.
Then Eragon read from one of the books of the Riders, and he spoke the name of the Ancient Language in his mind. The elves and the dragons who were present lent him the strength of their bodies, and the energy from them coursed through him like a great whirling tempest. With it, Eragon cast the spell he had spent days perfecting, a spell such as had not been cast for hundreds of years: an enchantment like unto the great old magics that ran deep within the veins of the earth and the bones of the mountains. With it, he dared to do what had been done only once before.
With it, he forged a new contract between the dragons and the Riders. He bound not just the elves and the humans to the dragons, but also the dwarves and the urgals, making it so that anyone of them could become a Rider.
As he spoke the final words of the mighty enchantment, and thus sealed it into place, a tremor seemed to run through the air and the earth. He felt as if everything around them – and everything in the world perhaps – had shifted ever so slightly. The spell exhausted him, Saphira and the other dragons, but upon its conclusion, a sense of elation filled him, and he knew that he had accomplished a great good, the greatest, perhaps, of his entire life.
(end of excerpt)
The elves insisted on throwing a feast to mark the momentous occasion, a feast that lasted three days! There was a joyful atmosphere throughout the celebration, and the Great Forest came alive at all the singing and dancing. It seemed as though a dark cloud had lifted from over Du Weldenvarden. Galbatorix's evil reign was finally at an end, and a new age was beginning. An age in which all the races could co-exist together for the first time in Alagaesia's long history.
At some point during the three days, Eragon slipped away from the feasting and into the forest. With a clear mind, he ran quietly to the Menoa Tree. He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts, before placing his hands on the wizened, creviced bark of the trunk. He cast out his mind:
Linnea ... Awake! Linnea, I must speak with you!
A faint tendril of thought touched his mind, but Eragon could sense the power of the vast consciousness behind it. What is it you want, Rider?
Linnea, I am here to repay the debt I owe you. You allowed me to take the brightsteel from beneath your roots, and with it I forged a sword that helped us win the war. What would you have of me, Linnea?
Your debt is paid, Rider. As you say, you won the war. Because of that you saved my forest. You owe me nothing.
And with that, Linnea withdrew from Eragon's mind, clearly feeling that the matter was resolved. Eragon still felt as if he owed something to the great tree, but with no way to change her mind, all he could do was accept her decision and let his mind be at peace.
Eragon and Saphira spent a further two weeks in Ellesmera. In that time, they allowed themselves to relax to the point that their bodies were free of the stress and tension that had built up throughout the long war. Now that Galbatorix was dead, it felt as if a great weight had been lifted off their shoulders. They could finally enjoy themselves and appreciate what they had accomplished, instead of wondering if each day would be their last.
Not only did their minds relax in this time, but their bodies recovered fully from the effects of the taxing and arduous war. Saphira grew another six feet in length and three feet in height. She also put back on the weight she had lost, eating enough meat to leave Fírnen awestruck.
Eragon himself also sprouted a couple of inches. His hair and nails regained their colour and shine and the dark bags under his eyes disappeared.
Towards the end of their stay, Eragon paid a visit to the elf smith, Rhunon. As he walked up the path to her hut, the ringing sound of a hammer striking metal could be heard. He paused in the doorway for a few minutes, simply observing the master smith at work.
"Who's there?"
Eragon smiled. He thought he'd been silent, but obviously the ancient elf still had perfect hearing. "Eragon."
At the sound of his voice, Rhunon whipped around. "It seems you didn't die. And you killed the tyrant. I hope that sword of yours helped with both."
Eragon held her piercing gaze. "It saved me and many others more times than I can count. Galbatorix died because of it."
"That is good to hear," Rhunon said, "that traitor deserved to die." She turned back to her work, picking up a hammer. "Is that all you came for?"
"No," Eragon said before she could strike the metal, "I have a question to ask you."
Rhunon paused. "Well get on with it then," she said impatiently.
Eragon smiled, knowing she was curious even if she pretended otherwise. "Would you like me to remove your oath?"
Rhunon froze. Slowly, she turned around, and stared fiercely at Eragon. "How? What you say is impossible. Oaths in the ancient language are unbreakable."
"Galbatorix discovered the Word. I gained the knowledge before he died. Nothing is unbreakable."
There was absolute silence in the hut for a long time. Day turned to dusk, and all the while, the two elves stood stock still, one with his hands clasped behind him, the other with her brow furrowed, trying to make a life-changing decision. Eventually she lifted her head.
"Get rid of it," she said, quietly and firmly.
Eragon strode over to Rhunon and put his hands either side of her face. In his mind, he used the Word to remove the oath Rhunon had placed on herself long ago. When he was finished, he stepped back to see her reaction. As if time was going backwards, Rhunon stood up straighter and lines left her face. Visibly, she looked relieved.
For the first time in his life, Eragon saw Rhunon smile.
"I have brought with me all of the Riders swords we found in Galbatorix's castle in Uru'baen. They are in Blodhgarm's possession on the outskirts of the Ellesmera. If you wish, I can ask him to bring you to them."
"Elrun ono, Shur'tugal."
Eragon inclined his head. "Goodbye Rhunon," he said.
"Goodbye Eragon," she replied.
Eragon turned and left, making his way through the dusk light back to his treehouse.
It was dawn. Eragon had shaved and washed and had just finished a light breakfast. He sat on the bed staring at the saddle bags he had packed the night before. The saddle bags themselves were new. Eragon had made them himself, the way Brom had shown him. The leather was supple and strong, and would last the journey they were about to undertake.
Eragon could feel Saphira approaching. A gust of wind rattled the room as Saphira alighted on the teardrop shaped portal into the treehouse.
Neither spoke as Eragon fixed the saddle to Saphira's back, having adjusted it the previous evening to accommodate her growth spurt. Both were experiencing mixed emotions. Eragon was reluctant to leave the comfort and familiarity of Ellesmera, a place he would happily call home, while Saphira was sad that she had to leave her mate.
However, both Dragon and Rider were excited at the prospect of new adventures and journeying into the unknown, of discovering new lands and hopefully finding a safe place to establish the next generation of Dragon Riders.
Eragon finished attaching the saddle bags to the Saphira's saddle. He turned around and had one last glance at his home, before leaping onto Saphira's back.
Saphira launched herself out of the treehouse, and wordlessly, the two of them flew to the centre of Ellesmera before spiralling down into a grassy clearing. Awaiting them were Arya and Fírnen.
While getting down from Saphira's back, Eragon remembered yesterday's farewell to Roran and Katrina.
He met them in their quarters in Tialdarí Hall. They spent the afternoon talking and laughing, mainly recounting stories from their childhood in Carvahall. They all knew why Eragon was there though, and as evening approached, the mood became sombre. In the end, they were all glassy-eyed. Katrina was devastated that Ismira would never know her uncle, while Roran was terrified that he would never see his cousin again. Eragon was dreading leaving the only family he had left, with the possibility that he might never see them again all too real. Eventually, they all calmed down, with Eragon reminding the couple that they had a mirror bound to his so that they could stay in contact. With a final kiss from Katrina and a bear hug from Roran, Eragon left their rooms.
Shaking himself back to the present, Eragon had to steel himself for possibly the hardest goodbye.
"Arya," Eragon said with a smile.
She tried smiling back, but it came out as a grimace. "Eragon."
He came closer, and slowly leaned in to give her a hug. He wrapped his arms around her, Arya's face snug against his chest, his chin resting on top of her head, inhaling her unique pine scent.
After a few minutes, he let go and held her at arm's length. "We have to go now, Arya."
"I know." Her voice was clear, but she had tears in her eyes.
"I'll scry you whenever I can," he said, "so keep your mirror close," he added with a grin.
Arya half laughed, half sobbed. It broke his heart.
"We'll come back, I promise. I'm not sure how long we'll be away, but we will come back. We have responsibilities here. To the future Dragon Riders, to Nasuada, to Roran and Katrina. To you and Fírnen. I promise I'll come back. Wiol ono."
Eragon pulled her close and kissed her brow, then turned to leave. Fírnen lowered his snout so it was level with Eragon's face.
Take care of my mate, Kingkiller. I need her.
I will Fírnen. Do not worry. Please look after Arya. I feel that the Queenship will be a heavy burden. You have to keep her strong.
Goodbye Eragon.
Goodbye Fírnen.
Eragon broke eye contact and walked over to Saphira. He climbed up into the saddle and strapped in his legs. He checked that everything was properly secured one last time.
Are you ready, Little One?
I am ready Saphira. Let'sgo!
Saphira reared up onto her hind legs and let loose a ear-shattering roar and an eye-watering stream of blue flame. Then her muscles bunched and she threw herself into the air, flapping hard to stay aloft. The pair kept rising above the trees, and when Saphira decided they were at the right altitude, she roared again. This time she received a reply from the forest below.
Saphira angled herself north, and together, she and Eragon started their journey into the unknown, with excitement on their faces and hope in their hearts.