Author's Note: Much to Hisota's dismay, she doesn't own the original ideas for this story, as it sole belongs to Christopher Paolini. The ideas of control of elements of Hisota's original character belongs to Dragon of Twilight and were tweaked by ObsidianTheatre, as was the plotline in the fan fiction.
Camouflaged by the glowing moon in the hours of darkness, I watched soldiers – clad in full armoury – enter and leave the prison of Gil'ead. My impatience was growing; Arya will be at my mercy! Yet, I could not obtain the eye, the power, the immortality, the ability to use the Ancient Language. Like being chained to the ocean floor, however only a hair's - width away from the surface, unable to grasp the air needed to survive, I was drowning at the proximity of Arya's presence.
I could storm into the stone fortress killing every single person who dares to hinder a Nymph, shatter the door to every cell until I find Arya, confront her, lunge at her and gouge out her eye! Then everything would be over, I would be invincible, unconquerable – the most powerful being in Alagaesia! Yet...still...I cannot, a Shade haunts the stronghold, striding into the jail will either result in my injury, or death. Both in which I wish to evade. A stealthy entry and escape is what I need, but my appearance is exceedingly distinct...
I whipped my head around at the sound of heavy breathing; a tall man was staring at me. I growled and slowly reached for Vitenka. He didn't seem surprised; however his facial features were shrouded by the night. Nevertheless, mine were not. Mine were glowing, my skin, my eyes, my hair, everything stands out. I made no other move after gripping Vitenka harshly, hoping – no – begging that he saw me as a ghost and ran away.
"A Nymph." He whispered. My eyes widened. He is educated, very well educated. In a blaze, I extracted Vitenka from its sheath and shot forward, the man caught my blade in a stalemate as we battled for supremacy.
"A young man educated in the ancient history, and is decent in swords play. Possibly one of the Varden? Or are a noble in the King's court?" I asked. He pushed my sword back and launched a full arc at my head. I ducked.
"My heritage is of no concern; however, yours marks my curiosity. I thought the Nymphs had become extinct in their war for the Ancient Language." He replied, dodging my violent string of slicing. He stepped out of the greenery and into the beam of the night sun.
"That face!" I cried, freezing my onslaught. "I remember seeing that face long ago." I stepped forward; he took a step back, his sword still standing ready. "Are you Morzan?" His stance faltered. "What is Morzan, the King's right hand man doing here in Gil'ead? Should you not be in Uru'baen?"
"Lady Nymph –"
"Dycentra," I corrected. "Don't you remember me Morzan? You came to me asking for the Nymph's allegiance to the Empire long ago."
"Lady Dycentra," he continued, "I believed you have mistaken me for someone else. I am not Morzan."
I frowned "Surely not, Morzan, don't lie to me, a man with eyes like yours is hard to forget." His mouth straightened to a hard line.
"Morzan is dead."
"Oh no, Morzan is standing here before me, please don't fool me." I said, nauseatingly sugary.
"Morzan is dead." He barked. "Morzan is my father. I am Murtugh Morzansson."
"Murtugh...Morzansson." I murmured peering off into the distance.
"Why aren't you in Uru'baen, the King wouldn't let his right hand man's son roam free now would he?" I asked. Murtugh chucked bleakly.
"Lady Dycentra, it seems as though you haven't been keeping of with the events."
"Oh? Then tell me Murtugh Morzansson, tell me what I have missed." I hissed. He hesitated.
"There has been a rumour of a new Dragon Rider who opposes Galbatorix." I inclined an eyebrow, a new Dragon Rider?
"And this Dragon Rider brings you to spy upon a Nymph? Or is there something you would like inside this jail?"
"Lady, you are very perceptive, I seek an entrance."
"Ah, then Morzansson, we are one in the same." I replied lightly. "I can lend you a hand in your task."
"I doubt, Lady Dycentra, that you would be so gracious." He said. I chucked.
"Nay, Morzansson, I believe the perceptive one is you." He smirked at my remark.
"I have heard that Nymphs are not included in the promise of the Dragon Riders."
"Ah, yes, you heard correct, the Elves and Dragons didn't allow us to become Riders because of our hunger for Dragon's teardrop." I said.
"May I inquire, why?"
"Well, Morzansson, Dragons are creatures born of magic. They are the emblem of everything miraculous or mysterious." He faintly nodded, agreeing with my point. "Nymphs increase their lifespan through stealing an eye of a living being, replacing it with their own, then killing the possessor of the sacrificed eye."
"Dragons can be considered immortal, as long as their Rider is alive." He stayed quiet, curious of where I was going. "Nymphs cannot attain the eye of a Dragon, as the eye would not correspond to the muscles in Nymph bodies. However, the teardrop of a Dragon..."
His eyes widened with the realization. "A Dragon's teardrop would act like an eye, giving Nymphs years of life. If a Dragon and Nymph bonded, the pair would be untouchable. The Rider would never fall, hence the Dragon would remain." He murmured, finishing my explanation. Silence rang the space.
This man can help me; I'll mark him, a tracking apparatus. If he proves to be false, I will hunt him down, and damn him to Hell. I sheathed my sword, Morzansson relaxed his rigid stance, I strode towards him, and he gasped at my sudden advanced.
"Son of Morzan..." I began, I raised my hand a traced a line on his neck. His veins rippled. "Murtugh, you may be able to give me what I want..." I raised my face up to his neck and quickly sank my teeth into him, blood dripped unto my tongue. Morzansson yelped and shoved me away from him. Grasping his neck in the process. "You may be the only one who can." Confusion, and revulsion stained his emotions, I smiled, an unnecessary gesture for placing a tracker – biting him – yet exceedingly amusing.
"Murtugh Morzansson, meet me here in a day's time. Together we will slither into this stone castle, and obliterate all in the way of a Nymph and the Son of Morzan." And with that, I retreated into the grasp of the night.
He can help me enter the fortress, help me get Arya, and not only that but he offers the prospect at the teardrop of a Dragon! However, what if...what if he cannot? A Dragon, where would he get a Dragon? There are only rumours about a new Dragon Rider.. However, what if he is the new Dragon Rider, Morzansson, the offspring of a Dragon Rider would likely become a Rider himself!
Author's Note: Hisota thanks all for reading the forth chapter of Sight, and she hopes you enjoyed it. As well, she would deeply appreciate it if you would all review her story, to critic her writing style, plot, or character designs. Anything is welcome, as it would cause Hisota to possess more self confidence in her story. In this chapter she would also like to thank all those who have reviewed her story as well. Thank you!