Chapter Four: Explanations

Only a week had passed since the powerful storm had tore through the city, yet there was no sign of the damage caused. The forest itself had healed itself at an astonishing rate. Birds once again flew and sung through the companies. Among the branches, the sound of woodland creatures, too numerous to catalog, rang out from sequoias and the redwoods. The trees danced to the calm breeze, and the leaves that were blown off the branches flew in complex patterns. All was calm and peaceful in the elven city and its inhabitants. Well, most of them.

Eragon sighed as he circled the Meona Tree. The last week had been an unpleasant blur. Between the long explanations, the questioning, and the invasive medical exams, he had found himself with little time for rest. His mind was tired from the constant examination, and he felt like would never end. By the end of the week, he had fallen into a mild depression. He couldn't properly focus on anything, even the simple things. Often times, he would even forget to eat or drink. He ate about a meal a day, and only because he was reminded by…well someone. When he did eat, he felt like he had to shove the food down his mouth. Eragon knew that many people were worried about him, but to him they were more worried about his ability to fight rather than his health. It didn't matter, he thought, if he was depressed, suicidal, or even insane. Nor didn't they care about his physical health. To everyone, he was only a tool, a weapon of war. No one saw Eragon anymore; he was a Rider, Shadeslayer, and a vassal to Nasuada. He had no name, only titles now.

A leaf brushed against his face, snapping him out of his ruminations. With a sigh he looked around himself. While he could not see them, he could feel the presence of the watching elves. 'Great,' he thought, 'I'm being stalked like a deer being hunted by a pack of wolves' He sat down on one of the massive roots and closed his eyes.

"Hello?" the word was barely whispered, carried on the gentle breeze.

Eragon started, nearly falling off the giant root. "Who is it?" he asked in a low voice

"Look up!"

Eragon slowly tilted his head back, examining the thick branches directly above him. He smiled as a pair of white feet hung down, framed by leaves, from the branch directly above him. "What are you doing up there?" he asked in a teasing voice.

"Hiding."

Eragon looked around him, but no one was near the area. . 'Hang on.' He quickly muttered a spell that would repel anyone coming within five hundred feet around him, and overlaid it with another spell that prevented others from listening in. 'You can come down now; no one will bother us for a while.'

'Are you sure?' Eragon felt the hesitation and doubt running through her mind.

'Yes.' His reply was adamant, leaving no room for doubt. Suddenly, a white figure dropped down into his lap. He laughed as the girl climbed off and hugged him tightly.

She was less pale, now, and her face shone with life. The aura of darkness had faded, and now she looked like any other child. Her dress had been mended, but he thought, rather crudely. He made a mental note to find another one for her. "How are you?" he inquired.

"Good…I mean well. Really well." Her voice sounded happy.

"Have you been getting the food I left out for you?" A pang of disappointment went through his mind as he asked the question. Disappointment at himself; he felt horrible by leaving food out for her like she was a trained animal. At least, he consoled himself; she could sleep in the loft with him most nights. He often went down to the foot of the stairs late at night to find her sleeping there. She couldn't climb the steep stairs, so sleeping at the bottom of them was the closest she could get. He knew that, and would stay awake until he was sure that anyone that could see him was asleep or otherwise occupied, then silently creep down the stairs and bring her back to the loft. She always clung on to him, and forced him to sleep next to her. He smiled at that thought. This little girl was the only thing that kept him sane, because she liked Eragon, not the Rider. Nothing would…

"What are you thinking?" The young girl broke into his thoughts. She was sitting at his feet now, looking up into his eyes. Eragon looked down, and said, "Oh, nothing much. Hey we're friends right?"

The little girl beamed, "Best friends!"

"Could you tell me your name? I don't want to keep...what's worry?" It was a simple question, but it had a profound effect on the young girl. She fell into a fetal position at the base of the root and started to shake uncontrollably, tears streaming down her face.

Eragon immediately knelt down beside her, and took her shivering body into his arms. For a long time, the two stayed like that. Finally Eragon loosened his grip, and said, "I'm sorry." He gently wiped her tears away, and rubbed her back in a slow, soothing manner.

"Please don't hate me." It was a soft whisper, filled with resignation and pain. Eragon started with surprise. "I would never hate you."

"I'm…I'm…" The words were choked out. "…A spirit."

Eragon just looked at her with a gaping mouth. "What?!"

"Don't hurt me, don't hurt me!" She started to scream hysterically, trashing wildly in his arms. Eragon simply held on tighter, even when her nails dug into his flesh, drawing blood. "Shhh...its okay, I'm not going to hurt you or even leave you alone. Just tell me your story."

"You really mean it?" A tiny bit of relief was evident in her face.

"Cross my heart."

She sniffed, and began. "I don't how it happened…they were killed, everyone was. Bro came home, and lost it. He did…something…and it hurt! Mom, dad, the whole village came back! They were mad, and they made him….they took me…I didn't want to, but they dragged me with them. And then I was with them, in that body, as they made brother do horrible things! He never wanted to, but they made him! And I was alone, and they hated me. I saw a chance to leave and took it. I saw brother die, and he was…happy. Happy that he was free! I followed you; you were so much like him…you freed him! But then you came here, and they started to use you! Make you do horrible things! I saw that, and I couldn't let they use you like brother! They are hurting us! They want to control you like brother! NO, NO, I WON'T LET USE YOU!" her words turned into hysterical cries, and she started to hyperventilate. Before Eragon could stop her, she fell into a seizure, screaming until her voice cracked. He couldn't hold her, couldn't comfort her. All he could do was wait. When she finally stopped, he took her back to the loft to let her sleep. As he carried her, his mind was spinning, but he knew two things; he would NOT allow himself to become a tool, and he would take care of this girl, no matter what.