DISCLAIMER: The Inheritance Cycle is not owned by me. Christopher Paolini owns that universe which he created.

Edge of Oblivion

Chapter XII - Flight

Before dawn, Eragon was already wide awake. He went through his morning routine in a distracted manner, his mind seemingly elsewhere. And indeed it was. He packed two spare sets of clothes and some books into two bags and set them on his bed, next to which he placed a quiver full of arrows and his bow. Then he went to get breakfast, bringing along with him a small sack in which to place some food for the journey. Though he was not sure how far they were to travel, having food along was always a good idea even if they could hunt. Better to be prepared.

As it got closer to midday, he could not help but feel excited and nervous about the upcoming trip. He was so distracted he did not even see his father walk up to him as he was exiting the dining hall after having a longer than usual breakfast.

Surprised to see him, Eragon saw that Broom looked tired and disheveled, as if he had not gotten any sleep the night before. Even his eyes betrayed his exhaustion, and Eragon wondered what he had been up to. Before he could ask, however, his father spoke first.

"I hear you are leaving for a while to accompany Kristoff," said the older rider. As much a question as it was a statement of fact.

Eragon nodded, "Aye, he has asked me to come and I feel it would be nice to travel a bit." He found himself trying to justify why he was going before his father had even said anything of what he thought on the matter, "I have never gone beyond Vroengard and the surrounding sea whilst flying on Saphira, and I think this is a great opportunity to fly and explore with her."

Brom smiled, though it did not quite reach his eyes and that made Eragon again question what it was that had kept his father up. "You do not need to tell me why you are going, Kristoff has already spoken to me. While I do not approve," he hesitated, "You are correct in that it would be a good opportunity to travel and see more of Alagaësia now that you are a rider. Plus it would be a good chance to get to know rider Kristoff himself, who is a good friend of mine and a good rider in his own right."

Eragon faltered a little as he processed what he was saying. He did not approve?

As if reading his mind, his father said, "Don't worry. I don't approve not because I think its foolish, though a small part of me believes the true reason you are accompanying him is indeed foolish... I had merely hoped to take you out and travel along with you myself. I looked forward to the chance for us to explore Alagaësia together. As father and son. As riders." Then Brom let out a deep sigh, "But I'm afraid that won't happen anytime soon, and I do not want you to wait."

"But I'm not exploring Alagaësia with Kristoff. We're going somewhere and then returning here. We'll be back soon enough, and we can travel Alagaësia together as you have said when we are both able," replied Eragon, confused. He felt like his father was not telling him something, or that there was something Eragon was missing. But what? And why was his father talking as if he would not see him in a while?

As he was about to speak, Brom turned his head slightly and his face tightened in concentration as if someone were telling him something. Then he looked at Eragon, "I must go, son. I am needed. I wish you safe travels, however, and I will see you soon." The way he said it made it seem like he would not, and again Eragon was filled with questions that burned within him in search of answers.

"What is it you're not telling me?" he finally managed to say as Brom pulled him into a hug.

Brom squeezed him tightly before pulling away and looking straight into his eyes, "It is nothing. Do not worry yourself over it, okay? Good. Take care of yourself, Eragon," and with that he left a bewildered young rider standing in the middle of the hall.

As Eragon walked to his quarters to collect his things for the trip, he could not help but think of his father's words and appearance. There was definitely something going on and he wanted to know what it was. He figured that Kristoff would know and he would ask the rider once they met up later. To be safe, he double-checked that he had everything in order. Then, grabbing his things from his room, he walked hastily to the hold. While he walked his thoughts turned at first to Oromis and Glaedr, his masters, and he had hoped to see them before he left but they were nowhere to be found. He would have to talk to them upon his return. Afterwards he thought of Murtagh and Thorn, and he wondered how they were doing. He had no seen them in a long time and he was worried. He did not have much time to dwell on that as he approached the hold.

He was early, but Thessus and Kristoff were already there along with Saphira, her tail flicking about in her eagerness.

"I had anticipated that you would be here earlier than we suggested," said Kristoff with a grin as he extended his hand and Eragon took it, inclining his head respectfully at the senior rider. In his other hand, Eragon noticed, he grasped a sheathed steel sword of fine make and he offered it over to Eragon. The younger rider looked at the offered blade and then towards Kristoff, hesitant to accept it.

"Since you do not have a Rider's blade yet, I shall give you this sword for you to keep. It's important for a rider to always have a sword with him. A sword of metal, not of wood."

Slowly, Eragon reached for the blade and took it from the rider's grasp. It was heavier and felt more solid than the wooden swords he was used to wielding. Even the balance felt a little different and he knew he would have to practice often with it so that his skills would not suffer from the difference. He thanked the senior rider for his generous gift, but said, "I do not think I can accept this as a gift so lightly... I'll find a way to repay you."

"Wholly unnecessary, Eragon. But I will not stop you if you are set on that." Then the older rider looked over with a critical eye at the things Eragon had brought with him. "Good, you packed well... though I can see that you are missing Saphira's saddle." He grinned wider as he finished speaking.

Oops, he thought and Saphira laughed. Dropping his things onto the ground he turned and sprinted to retrieve the saddle. He could feel the dragon roll her eyes as he left them. By the time he returned, he had worked up a bit of a sweat and was breathing harder. He secured the saddle and then the packs across Saphira's back. Satisfied that everything was in order, he turned to the senior rider and finally asked the main question that had been hounding him since he spoke to his father earlier. "Do you know what's going on?"

Kristoff cocked his head to the side, not understanding what he meant and giving him a questioning glance. "How do you mean?"

"I mean, do you know why my father seems to be troubled by something? Or why he acted so strangely today? Is there something big happening? Is it the Shade?"

The pause before he replied implied to Eragon that there was indeed something going on. "Nothing that cannot be handled well enough," Kristoff finally said, but he did not elaborate further.

A single Shade would not cause so much trouble for the Riders, Saphira added her opinion.

"Then why are you leaving with me? Shouldn't you be staying here?"

Kristoff shook his head, "No, I am not needed here... and it would be best if you did not inquire any further. There are some things that you just do not need to know or be involved in, Eragon." His eyes locked hard onto Eragon's, and the young rider finally relented.

"I guess..." he looked at Saphira. "I just feel like I should be doing something to help. I am a rider after all, and novice though I may be I feel that I could still help in some way."

The senior rider regarded him for a moment and then leapt up onto Thessus' silver back with ease that came with constantly having done the action. "You will be able to help the Riders when you are strong enough, Eragon. Right now you would only get in the way. And I do not say that to be hurtful, I only speak the truth. Novice riders in training do not participate in any missions of the Riders until they have finished their studies. While it is not a set law of ours per se, it has been an unwritten rule. That said, I admire that you wish to assist in whatever manner you can, you are much like your father in that respect."

Thessus stood on his mighty legs, and turned to face the entrance of the hold as Kristoff waved a hand towards Saphira, "Now let us go, Eragon. We have many leagues to travel today."

-xxx-

Murtagh groaned. Rolling over on the cold stone floor, he grimaced. His body ached all over from the beating he took the night before. Morzan had arrived home enraged about something, and Murtagh had unfortunately been present as he returned. Without warning, he had been flung across the room and proceeded to get pummeled and kicked as his father vent his anger and frustrations onto his son. After he was finished, Morzan had healed any broken bones but left the many bruises for his son to tend to himself. He had been left unconscious on the ground. His father had given no explanation as it happened. He did not even curse or insult his son, as he sometimes did. No, the only sound that he made was a growling of anger or a frustrated yell that coincided with a heavy blow.

When Murtagh's mental resolve finally broke and he cried out for his father to stop, Morzan paid him no mind and continued to pummel him. His son had been a tool which he used to relieve the great pressure of anger that welled up inside of him. There was no mistaking the fact that Morzan knew that he was hurting Murtagh, and yet it continued without a second thought. And when it was done, there was no remorse and still no explanation.

He could feel the wrath of his dragon through their link and the strong concern that emanated from him, but he quickly told Thorn not to do anything rash. Even against Thorn he knew Morzan would prevail, with or without Paine at his side. That painful fact was what made him keep his head down and accept all the insults, the anger, and the harshness.

Searching for the worst of the aches, he remembered some of the healing words and spoke them. His energy drained slowly as he continued to heal his aches and pains, though the worst of it was incurable by magic. For his heart hurt with such pain that he had not felt before. He considered what had just happened and he slowly recognized that this was a different Morzan now. Never before had he beaten Murtagh so senselessly and so violently. Sure there may have been a blow here or there and he always thought that it was just part of his father's tough love act, but never a systematic beat down like that which occurred the previous night.

His fear of his father's wrath, having experienced a new height of it, grew and he wondered what would happen the next time he returned in such a state of mind. Would his father be able to restrain himself or expend himself before he caused permanent damage? or worse? He was not so sure anymore. Last night, for the first time in his life, Murtagh acknowledged that his father did not love him. He imagined that love must be a foreign notion to his father, and looking back at his entire life spent under the reign of terror of Morzan he saw how foolish he was. He had clung to the hope that perhaps, through all this, his father held a love for him that he could not express except through being tough. But last night showed that all to be mere fancy. No being would ever to that to someone they loved.

Upset at his own weakness, a fact his father constantly reminded him of, he thought bitterly of how he had barely been trained by his father. Most of what he knew he had learned on his own, or things that he learned from his times with Eragon when the other young rider would share some of his knowledge as they exchanged stories. Thorn, thankfully, had been given more training by Paine than his father had given Murtagh because unlike Morzan, Paine actually felt responsible for teaching his apprentice. And unlike Morzan, he was actually a good teacher.

He began to resent his father even more, and the hatred that he had buried deep within him for the man who brought him into this world threatened to consume him. A grumbling from his stomach and a pang of hunger interrupted his thoughts then.

Tired from his spellcasting, he went into the kitchen and quietly grabbed some bread to munch on. He did not want to cook food for fear of his father realizing he was up and continuing what he had started last night. Murtagh found himself constantly looking towards the doorway, as if his father were about to appear at any moment.

We must leave this place, said Thorn abruptly. There was no give in his voice, only a seriousness that magnified the gravity of his words.

Murtagh was so stunned by the statement that he stopped chewing. What? he said incredulously.

Let us leave, repeated his dragon, You have said that when you are strong enough we would go elsewhere...

And I am not strong enough yet! he cried, My father would hunt us down and I dare not think what he would do once he found us. Again he looked towards the doorway, worried his father might have heard his thoughts. He made sure to keep his mental defenses up to block anything save for the connection he had with his dragon.

Thorn growled at him and allowed some of his anger to seep through their link, You will never be strong enough if you stay here. Your father barely teaches you and in fact more often than not hinders your progress! Staying here is foolish and can only lead to more suffering. We cannot wait for the right moment any longer, because the right moment is now.

Running away is foolish! he retorted, but he had little conviction in that statement as he found himself slowly agreeing with Thorn's words. Leaving carried with it so many risks, the greatest of which was his father finding them and punishing them severely. But Thorn was right, if he stayed he would not only be constantly subjected to his father's wrath anyways, he would also be hindering his progress. His 'training' from his father was non-existent anyways and he would definitely not miss it.

We must leave, said the red dragon again, We must leave while we still can. And if you do not agree with me, I will forcibly take you away from here myself... or I will confront your father. Thorn spoke with determination, although Murtagh detected a brief flash of uncertainty he knew his dragon would follow through with his words. He would most assuredly perish if he attempted to do so. Both of them would.

Then you leave me choice.

Thorn's tone softened, It is for the best, Murtagh. You know this to be true.

He did, but stubbornly refused to accept it. He continued to finish the piece of bread he had in his hands, chewing slowly as within himself he debated whether to leave or to stay. There was a lot more certainty with staying, but that would also mean as Thorn had said more suffering. Still, he did wish to escape the clutches of his father and to finally live freely on his own terms. He only hoped that their absence would not be noticed until they were far, far away from Doru Araeba. He cursed under his breath, his mind already made up.

Okay, he sent to Thorn. There was no audible reply, on the flow of a warm feeling of satisfaction and happiness.

Murtagh was already thinking of what to pack and how best to go about the whole ordeal. He would need to leave at night, preferably, for his father never checked in on him and usually only saw him once he returned late the next day from whatever he was doing. It would be even better if he could time it with when his father would leave for long periods. Yes, that was the most ideal plan. He would have to pay close attention to the comings and goings of his father, or he could at least assign Thorn to that task since he would be able to watch the house better without suspicion anyways.

Treading quietly, he went up to his room and carefully began to pack things into his bags. It was then that a thought struck him: he had to tell Eragon he was leaving. He had not seen his friend for some time now, mostly because his father had actually kept him busy with his 'training' that consisted mostly of criticisms and harsh displays of "how to do it properly. Morzan had constantly been returning to the house for the past few weeks so he was unable to get away to meet Eragon like he usually did.

Thorn, he called out with his mind.

What is it, Murtagh?

You must watch my father's movements during the day. He explained to Thorn that in order for them to have the best chance of escaping and minimizing the chances of his father finding them they must leave when he is away from the island. Timing was everything, especially since he was sure his father would be able to track them somehow. The more time and distance there was between their escape and his realization that they had gone, the greater the chance of success. And survival.

Thorn grunted, Then I will watch keenly and hope that he leaves soon.

I hope so too, replied the son of Morzan as he suddenly felt uncertain of the future.

-xxx-

They flew for many hours heading eastward, leaving behind the familiar sight of the island Vroengard. Eragon watched it recede into the distance with both excitement and a pang of sadness. They flew over the Spine without stopping, and Eragon gazed at it with a renewed excitement as he thought of hunting in the Spine again. Long had it been since the last time he stepped foot in the familiar mountain range and he hoped he would return again in the near future.

Saphira too took in the sight of the many mountains of the Spine with a sharp interest as her rider's thoughts on hunting spilled over into her own. She wished to hunt in the Spine as well, for hunting in Vroengard was far too easy. Challenging hunts were always welcome for a dragon, and especially so for Saphira who had begun to get very bored with the ease in which game could be caught around the island of the Dragon Riders. The very thought of hunting made her involuntarily clench her claws and salivate. With great effort she resisted the urge to dive down and hunt, concentrating hard on following the silver-scaled dragon who was flying slightly ahead of them.

The task was not too difficult thanks to the light from the moon that bathed everything on that clear cloudless night. The moon's glow seemed to make Thessus shine brightly as if he were made to wander the night sky under the watchful gaze of the silvery moon. She thought that if Thessus flew high enough, someone below may mistake him for a shooting star. In contrast, while her scales did reflect some of the moonlight, it was not to the same effect as Thessus. She definitely looked far darker in at night for she was made to be shown off in the glory of bright sunlight.

Are you tired? asked Eragon, suddenly concerned for his dragon. They had never flown this far or for this long before and he wanted to be sure she was not hurting herself.

Slightly bemused, she responded, I am stronger than you think, little one. But I am getting tired, though I can fly for a while longer if need be.

Kristoff wished to know. He rubbed the parts of her neck that was within his reach as he relayed her response to the senior rider. And I'm impressed by your strength, as always.

Saphira thanked him for that, proud as she was of herself and her abilities. Still, as they continued to fly across the night sky it was getting harder and harder to flap her wings and concentrate. Finally, when she was about to ask if they may take a rest, Kristoff turned in his saddle and signaled to them that they were to descend. Right after his movements, Thessus tipped right and angled downwards.

Below them, the waters of the North Sea glittered under the light of the moon. They landed on the shores of the North Sea that were close to the Spine, having barely crossed beyond the mountain range. There was no civilization on this side of the North Sea as a dense forest took up the space between the shore and the mountains.

Thessus landed with a heavy thud on the beach, sliding across the sand as he did so. A moment later and Saphira repeated the same, though the sound of her landing was lighter and she slid farther since she was not as heavy. Close by, a few dozen feet away from the farthest edge of the beach from the water was the beginnings of the forest that spread towards the foot of the mountains. There was heavy silence in the air, as if the forest had noticed their presence and was watching them. Eragon could feel eyes on him and it was rather unsettling.

Finally, the insects began to make noises again and the forest returned to what it had been doing before the two dragons and their riders had interrupted. Letting out a sigh at that and shaking his head at his worrying, Eragon laid down a blanket which he had packed. Taking his sack of clothes he put it down at the head of the blanket to use as a pillow. Satisfied, he watched as Kristoff was doing the same. Unlike Eragon, however, he had also brought a tent - though he did not set it up then for the skies were clear and he did not need it.

Once finished, he went over to the edge of the woods and grabbed and fallen branches and any other pieces of wood that he could use to build a fire. Eragon noticed that the senior rider kept looking around cautiously as he walked along the edge of the forest. With an armful of branches he returned and arranged them into a neat pile between the two riders. With a whisper and a faint glow from the rider's right hand, a fire crackled to life. Then Kristoff sat down on his make-shift bed, his knees bent and his arms resting on them as he looked at Eragon.

"How goes the journey for you two?" he asked.

Eragon shrugged, "I feel fine, though tired. And Saphira feels the same. She of course is more tired than I am, but she is a strong one." He smiled at her as she hummed softly at him with affection. Looking out across the North Sea, he could barely discern in the distance the faint lights of the city of Ceunon and he wondered if that was their destination.

I am too weary to participate in any late-night conversations, so I shall sleep now. No doubt we shall be traveling early tomorrow, so you should not stay up so late yourself, Saphira's voice echoed in his head. He looked at her and bid her goodnight as she closed her eyes and laid her head down to rest on the sand. Close by, the sounds of the waves splashing and lapping at the beach made it easy to drift off into slumber.

"Where are we going?" he asked then, "And how much farther must we travel?

"Well I guess you should know where we are going now that we're already on our way," reasoned the rider. He looked out towards Ceunon and pointed his hand in that direction, "We travel to Osilon, a great city of the elves on the western fringes of the magnificent forest that is Du Weldenvarden. Another two days of travel until we arrive in the city. It is there that I will be conducting some business as well as seeing old friends, and it is there that I am told your elf resides currently."

Nodding, his gaze turned from the senior rider back towards Ceunon and beyond. He would city a city of the elves! The very thought of it excited him like the day after Saphira hatched for him and he realized he was actually, finally, a rider. He had read of their beautiful cities and how they lived one with the forest, that is they lived within the very trees themselves. Not only that, but he would be able to see and observe their culture up close. He imagined what it was like, reading about the elves in his books and hearing a thing or two from Oromis, but to finally witness it all in person was very exciting indeed. And also nerve-wracking. He was not sure how to act and how he would be received in elven society.

"Why are you doing this?" asked the young rider. He knew he had asked before, but he was not so sure that was the real reason.

Kristoff smiled genuinely enough as he answered him, "I told you my reasons. Besides, your father and I agreed it would be a nice break for you to leave Vroengard for a while."

"A while? How long are we staying in Osilon?"

"I am not sure, but not too long I think," said Kristoff thoughtfully, "If you worry about your training fear not for in the meantime I will further your training when I can. Oromis has instructed me, and as a senior rider I feel obliged to to do so since I am borrowing you away from your master for a while."

Surprised by how much the senior rider was to help him, Eragon could not help but feel that he owed him a great debt for all he was doing for him. Weariness of his own crept through his body as he finally laid down, his head resting on one of his bags. He bid Kristoff good night and closed his eyes, the last thing he saw was the fire burning and Kristoff staring at it intently. The crackling of the fire and the soft but consistent splashing of the waves onto the beach lulling him to sleep.

-xxx-

Murtagh, wake uo! a voice thundered in his head loud enough that it did indeed jar him from sleep's grasp.

Gray eyes widening as he sat up in his bed, Murtagh scanned the room and had a hand on a dagger he kept hidden beneath his pillow. Realizing that he was not in any immediate danger, he reached out to his dragon.

What's going on? he demanded, still a bit groggy.

Your father has left Vroengard.

The statement was more than enough to fully wake him up then. His heart began to beat rapidly as he jumped up and bolted around the room, grabbing all the things he had not yet packed and shoving them roughly into the bags he had kept hidden underneath his bed. Everything he thought he needed he brought with him, and though he knew it would be heavy he had no other choice for he had nothing else besides these things. Not to mention that they felt they would aid him in the times to come, for he brought along with him more than a few books as well to help his studies and training. At least the hoped they would.

Along with those things he had extra clothes, a set of light armor his father had given him before - one of the few things Murtagh was actually thankful his father had done for him. He also had a bow and a a quiver full of arrows, two steel swords and two daggers. He also had roughly a week's supply of food that he had stolen from the kitchen. Glancing over everything one more time and going through a checklist in his head, he called out to Thorn to meet him in the dragon hold. Passing by one of the store rooms on the first floor he grabbed the saddle that he used with Thorn, adding to his burden as he grunted to lift it over his shoulder along with the packs.

Carefully, he left the house and slipped through the streets with eyes darting and eyeing every shadow with caution. Once he reached the gates of the Citadel, the guards at first stiffened in suspicion as he approached but saw that he was a rider - they recognized all of the riders - and let him through without any fuss. Tired from the weight he bore on his back from his packs, he finally reached the first hold and found his red-scaled bond-partner there waiting for him. Eagerness emanated from the dragon and Murtagh could not help but feel the same way.

He quickly latched the saddle onto his back at the base of his neck and then quickly tied up the packs securely to the saddle. Once he was satisfied he brought himself up onto Thorn's back and once he secured himself Thorn began to move. Launching himself into the air and flying out into the night.

As they ascended ever higher, he could not help but think of what Eragon was doing and how he would react to his sudden flight. He had hoped to tell him, but he seemed to have disappeared as of late and there was no time to send him any messages. Not that he would have anyways, for he did not trust anyone to deliver such a message. He only hoped he would one day see Eragon again, he had slowly come to consider him almost like the brother he never had. Brushing away those thoughts his mind focused on the fact that he was indeed finally leaving Doru Araeba on his own.

This is it, Murtagh said with a detached tone as he watched Vroengard speed by beneath them and then behind them. The sea that spanned between the island and the shores of the mainland whirled by. He was really leaving. His mind imagined the terrible rage his father would go on once he realized that his son had left him. No doubt he would try to cover it up, but he was sure he would be shamed in the eyes of some of the riders. For that alone he was very much afraid of being found by his father.

It was not until they sighted the mountains of the Spine that Eragon had told him so much about and that he had read of in his books that he finally accepted the fact that he was finally free from his father. At least for the moment. He contemplated the word, rolling it around in his head. Free. I... WE are free... free at last, he thought.

Thorn growled happily as he flew through the night as fast as he was able.

A/N: Things are going to be moving a lot faster now as we start to get into the main chunk of the story. Also, for those of you wondering I have indeed altered the timeline of the story quite a lot - that said the relative ages of everyone are still roughly the same. To make things clearer here is a list of everyone's relative ages in this fic:

(Revealed) Main Character Ages:
Eragon: 16
Murtagh: 18 (the reason he did not get his dragon earlier is because of Morzan's irresponsibility with his son; only when Brom was to have his son go through the ceremony did he finally let Murtagh do it as well)
Brom: 53
Selena: 49
Arya - at least mid to late 60's. I haven't decided yet on an exact age.
Oromis: 550+
Vrael: 700+
Kristoff: 60
Morzan: 58
Galbatorix - around mid 80's