Thorn listened to Murtagh's thoughts intently. The storm that Murtagh was headed into daunted him. By the angle of the wind-bent trees, Thorn knew that the wind would be strong enough to blow him away. He wondered how Murtagh would be able to get through it with his living 'package'. He was more concerned about Murtagh's mind, however.
Murtagh, clear your mind. You cannot brave this storm if your mind boils more violently than it does, said Thorn, desperately trying to help Murtagh through his challenge. Murtagh tried his best to wait in the safety of the cabin longer, but somehow his legs moved on their own.
Thorn felt the icy wind brutally bite his rider, ignoring what clothes he still had on.
Murtagh did not answer Thorn's plea, as he was too busy fighting the storm. Through his Eldunari, Thorn sent as much strength as he could to aid Murtagh in his plight.
By sheer willpower, he reached the main house. The house rested on a hill, meaning Murtagh had to descend to the road.
Thorn, said Murtagh. Even though he was speaking through his mind, his voice sounded strained, as if he needed more air. At this rate, how long do you think it will take until the road below floods?
Thorn answered quickly, understanding that Murtagh's mind was at its limits. Not long. Actually, it wouldn't be surprising if a flash flood just came and wiped out the entire street. Most of the houses would be fine, but the road with be strewn with gods knows what. You should continue without descending until the last moment possible to make sure that no flood will wash through. But hurry!
Murtagh gasped and panted with the effort it took to walk against the wind while carrying a tall girl. His feet soon became numb. The pitter patter of the steady rain put him in a deep trance, and his mind traveled back to a few weeks before…
"Murtagh, come here," commanded Galbatorix, albeit gently. "It has come to my attention that you seem rather unhappy as of late."
Really? thought Murtagh, sarcastically. Another pointless massacre of an army of young and old male farmers from the day before was still fresh in his mind.
Galbatorix looked at him and sighed. "Must I break into your mind again? Or will you answer me?"
Murtagh glared at his King. "You didn't ask a question."
"Alright, I'll make this easier. Why must you be so miserable?"
"Even if you close your eyes it shouldn't be so hard to see! Other than the fact you torture me daily, and bind me in oaths so that I can't even breathe unless you want me to, it's not obvious? Really, why, why, do you kill everyone? You entertain me with your silly idea of bringing back the Dragon Riders and prosperity to all of Alagaesia, but all you're doing is—"
"Murtagh!" said Galbatorix sharply. His eyes glimmered bright red for a moment. "Murtagh," he said again, more calmly and smoothly. "How many times must I explain myself? … No matter, I will do it as many times as you need."
Murtagh glared at him and tried to say something, a piercing retort or an insult, but somehow his mouth wouldn't move. Galbatorix stepped closer; Murtagh stepped back in response. As he looked at Galbatorix's face, Murtagh remembered all the pain he had put Thorn and him through. A wave of nausea overwhelmed him for a moment, and his legs threatened to fail him, but he regained himself.
He knew what Galbatorix was going to tell him and he focused his minds on all the innocent lives the King had stolen. He remembered all the nights he spent writhing in agony beside his dragon because of the Black King. He clenched his teeth and vowed to himself that he wouldn't fall for the King's honeyed lies.
Galbatorix smiled, as if he knew what Murtagh was thinking without having to invade his thoughts. He did guess my true name correctly, after all, thought Murtagh. Galbatorix slowly extended his hands towards Murtagh and held his face softly. The contact burned Murtagh's cheeks and caused his eyes to smart.
"Maybe it's because you're so young, you don't know, you don't understand. You don't understand what it means to be a rider. Murtagh! This land is swamped with corruption, and you and I are the only ones who can clean it.
"The age of the riders ended a long time back, I being the sole survivor," he said, mournfully. Murtagh's world suddenly swirled as he was transported to the world that Galbatorix saw. He tried desperately to keep his focus, but he was swept away in the torrent of Galbatorix's emotions.
He saw a wretched land full of corruption and oppressed civilians. The biggest oppressor, however, was not within the empire. The worst kind of evil, as Galbatorix saw, was the Varden whom were led by the "dark witch" Nasuada. Normally Murtagh's heart would quiver at the thought of her, but through Galbatorix's corrupted mind anything seemed evil. She stood at the head of a vicious army with her arms crossed and her head high, as it usually was. But her dark eyes were narrow and full of hate. Deep in his gut, Murtagh knew she wanted him dead.
"You can see it, can't you, Murtagh? It needs to be cleansed. You and I are the only ones who can accomplish this. But if I must have you as an enemy, Murtagh, I will not hesitate to bring you down," said Galbatorix, his rumbling voice reverberating through Murtagh's soul. The experience left Murtagh speechless and his face was blank. In his head he could not find what he held against the King anymore. Galbotorix stepped closer and gently steadied the rider's head with his large, gloved hands. His blood-red eyes glittered triumphantly and malevolently, but Murtagh could only see glory that the King wanted him to believe in.
"Swear to me, Murtagh," said Galbatorix, "that you will never become my enemy." The words fell from Murtagh's lips before he could think. He felt the magic words bind him. Galbatorix did not reply, but chuckled, as he released his slave and walked away. Had Murtagh been looking at the King's face, he would have seen the insanity clearly and permanently etched on it.
A freezing wind howled through the trees and brought Murtagh back to his senses. His anger from the memory flew away with it as his squinted through the darkness. He had no idea where he was, but trusted that Thorn would not let him get lost. As he heard the neighing of horses nearby, he knew he had reached the stables where he left Syzel. He looked down the hill into the valley where the stables were. All he could see was the moon reflecting back at him.
The entire village was flooded! exclaimed Murtagh. A small sadness resonated from Thorn's Eldunari.
Yes, it did, unfortunately, replied Thorn. His "voice" was low and solemn. Murtagh remembered the poor bread-stall man and wondered if he was still alive.
People die so easily, he thought. Thorn agreed.
Murtagh adjusted the unconscious girl on his shoulder has his mind felt around for Syzel's. He found the faithful mare calm and close-by. He beckoned her towards him.
The mare nimbly moved in the shadows, her hooves barely sinking in the boggy ground. She nosed him in the dark.
She should be able to carry us both… thought Murtagh, stroking the mare's wet back, but she doesn't have a saddle…
He looked around in the debris that was washed up the hill by the flood. Horse supplies were strewn everywhere, including many saddles of all quality and size. He quickly selected one that looked right and threw it on the horse while balancing Akai across his shoulders. He tightened the soaking saddle and hoped that it wouldn't be too uncomfortable for the mare. As he studied her legs, he realized that she was most likely a war-horse. He felt a little more confident.
He hoisted Akai across the saddle when she suddenly regained consciousness.
"Ah!" she said, surprised, before returning to her senses. "You kidnapped me! No, let me go!" she screamed. She began to kick her legs.
Murtagh kept silent. The freezing, pounding, rain and the extreme fatigue made him quite lethargic. He wanted nothing more than to curl up beside Thorn's warmth and sleep. He quickly tied Akai's legs together when she suddenly gasped.
"Everything is underwater! Everything is drowned!" she cried. She looked around desperately. Murtagh also felt a pang of regret for the victims. He thought about the old man and his sick son.
"Look! They're there," she exclaimed, triumphantly. She tried to point, but her hands were tied. Murtagh looked into the direction she nodded to. He could see on a far hill a few colors. As he concentrated, he could make out many dark shapes. He realized that it was the villagers running into a shelter.
Akai looked relieved as Murtagh felt surprised.
Not only are the villagers safe, she can see so far away. I can only see that far thanks to magic, but she…
Akai smiled as she continued. "Good thing I warned them soon enough. I told them about this storm about a week earlier. Only a few people believed me, but they built enough shelters for everyone. At least I accomplished something before I was kidnapped," she said. She smiled haughtily while glaring at Murtagh even though she was tied up and slung across a horse. Murtagh kept silent but he wondered whether she knew how much her words were hurting him.
This feels so much like when the twins captured me… though Murtagh forlornly. Thorn replied, also feeling guilty.
At least you're not torturing her, he offered, but it barely made his rider feel any better.
She doesn't even know where she's going. If she knew she was being taken to Galbatorix, she would not be so calm. Murtagh swiftly mounted the horse. The young mare was large enough to fit the both of them on her back. She didn't even flinch under the extra weight. Murtagh adjusted Akai so that the jerks and bounce of the horse ride would not harm her. She bit his finger.
"Ow!" hissed Murtagh. He doubted Akai could hear him in the storm. Akai smiled at him as she tried to wriggle out of his grip. For a girl, she was strong. She was also rather tall for her age, which made it harder to keep her balanced. Murtagh found the only solution to be to knock her out. Too exhausted to use magic, he settled for a more conventional method. She was soon sound asleep.
Murtagh guided the mare out of the boggiest of the ground to an area where her hooves won't sink too much. He started at a gallop in a direction that Thorn indicated. Murtagh and his captive rode all night until they escaped the storm.
A/N: R&R? I have no comment for this chapter. It didn't really have much story in it... I'll try to write a better chapter next. This chapter is only for smooth story flow.