Chapter 24:
Secret's Out, Time to Shout
Roran stared at the man he had believed to be dead in disbelief. As he watched the butcher standing before him, one thought strangled his mind, searching for answers. This singular thought wondered how Sloan could have survived death. It was wrestling with answers to this question. It was as if Sloan and death had battled, and Sloan had prevailed. It was not within the laws of humanity to be able to do such a thing. He did know that he had an answer to this question as much as he had one as to why air sometimes turned his skin red(sunburn).
Roran had no idea how this strange phenomenon could have happened, but his eyes began to hover over Sloan, slowly moving up and down. As he did so, his eyes met Sloan's just as Sloan's met his. Roran's eyes then locked with the old man's, and through that simple contact, Roran saw pain, hurt, and sorrow, but he also discerned a high level of happiness concealed in Sloan's heart. As he continued to study the man, he saw that Sloan had a wide smile on his face, and that he wasn't as slouched over as he was when Roran had last seen him. He stood tall and confident, and now instead of being close to a foot shorter than Roran, they stood at almost the same height. Another very different characteristic about his physical appearance was that he had lost a substantial amount of weight. He was not even a shadow of the man Roran had once known. While he had changed on the outside, Roran didn't know if he had changed spiritually or mentally as well.
Roran stared at the figure until he heard footsteps crashing toward him. Jolted back to reality, Roran finally noticed the battle going on about him after almost a minute of contemplation. He glanced around, and luckily came to his senses just before he was beheaded. He ducked, and crushed the man's kneecap, and as he fell, he crushed his ribcage. The man was still breathing, so he finished him with a blow to the neck. After he sheathed his hammer, he beckoned to Sloan to follow him. He remembered his duties to lead the army, and called to his second-in-command, Jormundr. "Jormundr!", he bellowed with all the strength he could muster. "Take my position at the front line!" Jormundr didn't give any sign that he had heard, but he sprinted to the forefront of their forces without hesitation. Roran then motioned to Sloan again, indicating the tent across the dirt path where one of the villagers from Carvahall stayed.
They both ran on winged feet, but even at Roran's fastest, Sloan beat him at a moderate jog. What has he been through?, Roran asked himself. He reached the tent and put his hands on his knees in an attempt to catch his breath. After straightening his hair and coughing for a long minute, he pulled up the flap and entered the tent. The room was cool, but the heat of battle still permeated the walls, and the fabric admitted the clang of swords and screams of dying men to attack their vulnerable ears. Roran tried to shut out the clamor of the outside world, but without success. Finally, he did what was his habit. He wrestled down all his unruly emotions, conquering his adrenaline levels last of all. After he had calmed down and his heart rate dropped to a normal level, he looked up at Sloan, staring into the man's wise eyes. This is when he noticed something different about him. His eyes were a different color than he remembered. Sloan had been in his face so many times that he could recognize his scrunched together brown eyes. But they were now a light blue. Roran waved a hand in front of his face, and Sloan's eyes followed it. So he's not blind. Roran leaned over and stood face to face with his old enemy. Roran questioned his definition of Sloan and who he was now, though, because he had saved Roran's life. Roran, drew in a deep breath, and prepared to ask Sloan one of the most important questions of his life.
"What happened to you, Sloan?"