Earlier, in Tierm.
Helen found Jeod sitting on a stool, poring over an assortment of scrolls, books, and sheaves of loose papers that were piled high on a small table next to a larger desk. A thin shock of hair hung across Jeod's forehead, mimiking the curve of the scar that stretched from his scalp to his left temple.
"Ah, Helen," he said, flashing through some papers, the lines of concentration on his face deepening. He soon seemed to forget that she was in the room, carrying on with his reading and studying.
"You've been up all night. I'm afraid you'll fall over from lack of sleep." Helen shuffled across the floor and seated herself on a fragile wooden chair that creaked as her wieght pressed agianst it.
Jeod shook his head and mumbled to himself before saying, "Helen, I find that counting sheep no longer bring weariness to my eyes. Here I can expand my knowledge, this is my empire. What sleep do I need here?"
Helen sighed, "Honey, your health is poor. You need sleep and food, I'm going to make you something to eat." Jeod nodded and continued with his business.
Helen stood, the chair creaking agian, and left the room, entering the hallway and walking into the kitchen. The smooth tile floors reflected the evening light. She snatched a kettle off the counter and braced it agianst her hip, fit the nipple of a waterskin in the end of the spout, and squeezed. The kettle reverberated with a dull roar as a stream of water struck the bottom. She tightened her fingers around the neck of the waterskin, restricting the flow to a languorous trickle. She remained thus, while the water droplets drummed out a maddening beat agianst the inside of the kettle.
While she waited, thoughts flowed through her mind, striking her with worry, kind of like the drizzle of water being poured into the kettle, beating the metal rythmically. First of all came the thought of the rumors surrounding the mysterious ships, the ones that have been seen all along the coast. She wondered what and who they were, for no contact with them had been made yet.
Secondly came the thought about her husband's health. The local healer had sayed he was ill and that no amount of medicine would cure his sickness. She was a mess worrying and taking care for him. She at least owed him that, after all of his life he threw away to make her happy. Their love was one that wouldn't end, even after death. They had lived their life together, and she had a gut-wrenching feeling that it was coming to an end.
Thirdly she...water spilled over the edge of the kettle and, splashing down her hand and onto the floor, shook her from her thoughts. Releasing her grip on the waterskin she replaced it with a wool rag. "Blast it all." She said in frustration. She placed the kettle on the counter and bent down to clean up the spill, her back pained her more than she realized. Then she grabbed the kettle and hung it on a hook above the fire place, lighting the wood with a flint and steel.
Jeod was flipping through some books when Helen returned seating herself in the unoccupied chair, carrying two mugs of steaming hot red-clover tea and a tin plate laden with flat biscuits and a small clay silver pot of honey. She handed Jeod his mug and placed the tray in her lap.
As was polite, Jeod waited until Helen had taken a biscuit from the plate and consumed a bite of it before taking his, spreading some honey on it with a knife. He sipped his tea before taking a bite of the biscuit.
"Have you heard any news from the saliors about the mystery ships?" She asked, glazing another biscuit in honey.
Jeod swallowed some tea then replied, "No, as of yet they remain unknown." He took a sharp breath and grabbed his chest as if it pained him. He coughed. "I'm not sure what'll happen, Lady Nasuada will do something about it, I have no doubt about that."
Helen gave a stabbing stare at Jeod, maybe they should have accepted the healer's medicine. "How are you feeling?"
Jeod shrugged his limp shoulders, and leaned back in his chair. He remained like so, his once peachy cheeks were now gray with sickness and his skin was tight agianst his structure.
Helen gave him a cheery look, but that did nothing. She searched for something that could possibly brighten his mood. His work always seemed to make him happy. "So, since I try not to hender your work, what have you been doing lately?" She noticed an apologetic smile flicker across his face. He stared at a scrap of paper beside his knee as he waited for the right words to say.
"Lately I've been going through histories, myths, legends, poems, songs, religious tracts, the writings of Riders, magicians, wanderers, obscure potentates, various generals, or anything that might give some extra knowledge." He brushed back the lock of hair that hung over his forehead.
"Is this a result of that sect you belong to... the arachnid, archane. What is it agian." She appeared confused.
"Arcaena." He showed no frustration towards Helen, but gave her a sympithetic smile, nearly laughing at her struggle to pronounce the word. "Ertharis believes that our time is coming to a close, and he wants every possible piece of information documented and stored somewhere safe."
Helen glared at Jeod. "Everyone dies. Why would he out-right say that you and I are going to die soon?" She shook her head and took another sip of her tea, which had cooled.
Jeod huffed. "He doesn't mean just you and I. Arcaena is a group of religious fanatics that have dedicated their lives to preserving knowledge for a time when they believe an unspecified catastrophe will destroy all the civilizations in Alageasia." He sighed, struggling to continue as his chest spiked with pain. "He believes...ugh, that Alageasia's downfall is upon us."
From somewhere outside Helen heard a deep explosive sound and a bright orange flash erupted through the small window in front of the desk. It confused her at first cause she hadn't heard the sound before. But not long after there was a crash outside and she saw flames.
Thorn tucked his wings close to his body and tipped into a steep dive, hurtling towards the dark buildings of Carvahall. Murtagh ducked his head agianst the blast of wind that tore at his face. The world spun around them as Thorn rolled to his right, dodging a flock of geese that flew by.
Murtagh's limbs grew heavy as Thorn pulled out of the dive. Then he leveled out and the wieght pressing down on him vanished. Like strange, shrieking hawks, arrows whistled past them, some missing their mark, while Murtagh's wards deflected the rest.
Swooping low over the field just outside the city where thousands of monsters had gathered, launching black arrows at the soldiers upon the battlements, Thorn roared and lashed out with his claws and tail, sending groups of creatures flying into the wall where their bodies met resistance and were crushed.
A tall, square tower armed with four ballistae stood at the far end of the western wall. The huge crossbows fired twelved-foot-long javelins toward the creatures massed before the city walls. Inside the wall, Murtagh and Thorn spotted a hundred or so soldiers gathered around the western gate, preparing to fight off the monsters if they broke in.
Thorn circled over the city and back towards the enemy, preparing for another pass. Murtagh studied the monsters, even in daylight their skin was pitch black, thier horns, unlike the Urgals curved extensions, were sharp and pointed above their heads, so they could ram and impale soldiers. They wore little armor for their skin was tough, almost rocklike but fleshy. Thier eyes shimmered with hatred, turning them red.
Thier weapons were of fine make showing that they took care and pride in making the instruments of war. The spear seemed highly favored, some creatures carried a quiver like pouch on their backs stuffed with spears that they would eventually launch into the city. The monsters' aim was unrivaled, most never missed a shot, except when they tried to attack Thorn and Murtagh.
As Thorn flew over the creatures' ranks he loosed a torrent of sparkling, red flames that showered a great number of the creatures in that one pass. Murtagh reered back so he could see the damage done, a long line of fire surged through the army, definetly too hot for any organism to survive. Even the grass around it was scorched brown.
"Ha! Let's take 'em out with flame!" Murtagh shouted a bit too ambitious. Thorn growled in agreement, lifting his lip in a snarl and brandishing his white, sword-like teeth. But as he completed his revolution and regained altitude he could see that the creatures he had recently burned were still up, walking towards the city gates, fire still wrapped around their bodies.
*Are they immune to fire?* Thorn asked, confused. Everytime he burnt a living creature they usually...died.
Murtagh appeared similarly confused. *Maybe fire isn't the best thing to attack with.* He said to Thorn, clutching his legs tightly together as the dragon flipped upside down and twisted into a dive. The Spine forming the background of their spinning world.
*Maybe we should...Thorn, look.* Murtagh pointed to the city walls as they collapsed into a cloud of dust and debris. The loud shouts, and growls, of victory rose up from the enemy as they barreled into Carvahall.
Thorn roared and flapped his wings, twisting to the left as a volley of black arrows pummled Murtagh's wards. The creatures' army was pouring through the aperature in the wall like water would when an opening was provided. Thorn flared open his wings and slammed down in front of the damaged wall, crushing the monsters trying to enter. He roared agian and snapped, serpant-like, at anything that tried to come near.
Murtagh's wards came in handy at this point, taking on a great number of arrows. From behind him came the soldiers of Carvahall, pouring into the battle field with their weapons held high, Roran leading the charge with his hammer pointed towards the enemy. The armies clashed with the giants in a mad scramble for dominance over the other.
The soldiers on the battlements continued to unleash arrows onto the enemy, and Murtagh noticed several javelins barrel themselves into the monsters, embedding into the ground.
*What's your play?* Murtagh asked Thorn.
*I'll keep those things from getting into the city.*
*Then I will try to help Roran.* Murtagh slid off the saddle and fell to the ground. When his feet hit the ground he noticed that it was soggy with blood. He stammered slightly then recovered and ripped Zar'roc from it's sheath. *Be careful.*
He surged forward and joined the turmoil in the field, slashing at the creatures that tried to attack him. Thier rock-hard skin wasn't no match for a Rider's blade, he slashed through the haft of a creature's spear and, continuing with the blow, decapitated the monster. Zar'roc seemed to shimmer with savage delight.
Murtagh stood still as another creature stared at him with suprise, fury, and hatred. Was it hesitating to attack? It gripped it's sword and hefted it's shield and slowly walked towards the Rider. "You may have been able to defeat him, for he was weak and ill-experianced." It said, in a rough gruntual tone. "But not me, for I am strong."
Murtagh nearly sneered. "Would it not be better to retreat?" Murtagh took some steps backward to see if the creature would keep walking towards him.
"Ha, for you yes." The creature thrust his spear at the Rider. Murtagh jumped and twisted his body so that his back was arched over the spear as it continued past him and struck the ground, sending a little spray of dirt into the air.
The creature used the distraction to his advantage and ran with heavy steps, disturbing the blood upon the ground. Murtagh landed, nearly slipping on the slick dirt, and waited until it was only a few feet away. Then he took a single step forward and stabbed Zar'roc through the center of the monster's embossed shield, through it's arm underneath, and then into the giant's chest. The creature convulsed once and was still. As Murtagh pulled his blade free of the corpse, there was a discordant clamor from behind him.
He turned to see Roran bashing the head of a still-living creature, this one was at least twelve feet tall and was lying on his stomach trying to regain his footing on the slippery ground. His hammer created a thud each time it struck it's feral skin.
Murtagh ran to him as the giant began to rise and beheaded the creature with a swift and noble flash of his sword. "Don't you think that a sword would do better at killing them than a hammer?" He offered a hand, which Roran grasped with his, and pulled the man to his feet.
"Well I've already killed four of them." Roran coughed. An explosion to their right caused them to put their backs to one another and face the battle around them. The giants were throwing some sort of metal orb that exploded on impact, blasting deep craters in the field.
Murtagh was about to charge into battle with Roran by his side, when a deep unnerving roar echoed out over the Spine. The entire battle seemed to cease, even the monsters had a brief pause. Murtagh looked to the mountains hidden behind the surrounding forest and could sense confusion and fear in Thorn.
There was another roar and this time it ended in what sounded like a pained shriek. The echo reached Murtagh's ears and he winced at the sound. Their was a gap between the next roar, but this time Murtagh saw something clambering through the distant forest, knocking aside trees and growling with anger. Roran tapped the Rider's shoulder and pointed towards the other side of the forest where something large was crawling out of.
A\N: A warning. Most of the next few chapters will be short because of Thanksgiving and such, most of the time I'll be busy. But I still want to give you all updates so if you could bare with me and these short chapters, we can all get through it easily. Hope you've enjoyed this little tid bit, I tried to use some things mentioned in the Inheritence Cycle that were never elaborated on, like the sect known as the Arcaena and their belief in the end of the world, as is what will happen soon. A gigantic thank you to those who have followed and favorited this story, it really motivates me to write more often and get chapters to you guys. And thanks to those who have reviewed, really means alot to me.
Reply to reviews:
Cale1818chemicalenergy- Thank you big time for you amazing support. Sorry that I couldn't fix the spaces between the previous chapters. Hope you liked this one.
Luckyponygirl- Thanks bunches. And I've had people tell me that I have a wierd writing style, what do you think they mean by that? Cuz i dont know. Also i will try to get Murtagh's POV in more often because the original story didn't have it. And as you can see, I'm trying to impliment more characters into this story, how am i doing on that so far, and are there any improvments that i could make, i only want to make this more enjoyable to the readers. Hope you've enjoyed this one as much as I enjoyed writing it.