Chapter 4
Months went in sleepily manner in the timeless city while Riders trained relentlessly to hone their various skills from different walks of life. Soren and I were among such a class as the teacher reviewed the conquest of Alagaesia by the Latins spearheaded by two people.
"You see class," The dwarf proudly stood on his stool in the creamy colored room before white runes written on the blackboard. The sunny light crept across the carved floor to the far right wall from the high windows filling the room in golden atmosphere as the dozens or so Apprentice Riders sat behind the tables. The three sections of tables in stair fashion went up in temperate steps carved from the same stone giving our legs room to stretch under them as the separated chairs would screeched when you push the chairs back.
"If Galbatorix the Terrible could killed Nemo and eradicated Marcus Fortis Flumen's forces he still lived to this day. None of you… Am I boring Apprentice Morgan Alvis Ignotum?" The bright sky drew me into daydreams as Gladia flew in my mind's eye enjoying ecstatic freedom. Everyone in the room looked up at me from the notes taken during the lecture. "Sic sir!" I replied.
"I see, twenty." I walked onto the leveled ground before the tables and chairs began. The floor was cool in the middle of summer as I leaned forward on the floor my body rapidly pushing up. "One, Master!" The process repeated itself until...
"Sixteen Master! Seventeen Master! Eighteen Master! Nineteen Master! Twenty Master!"
He excused me to continue his lecture as eyes followed me up to the second back row, as Soren was a few rows in front of me. Months since Gladia and I began our training materialized a little cult of curious peers, who yet to be tested in battle, stalked us everywhere we went. Soren's suggestion is that none of the Riders before were an ex-pirate encased in a tanned, scarred body and one pierced ear most were nobles' children or elves who rarely met a commoner Rider, case in point Soren. Who once was a thief, the best in the land or so I am told since he's mute on his history.
This time I pretended to write notes as my pencil took a life of its own drawing Gladia flying through the air. Next class aerial combat. Soren beamed in pure joy.
Yeah for you! We got to talk Eragon and Saphira! They requested us yesterday when Master Svadilfari taught about dangerous weather patterns. A second later did the dwarf master dismissed the eager students when the rainbow display colors pranced around the walls in a roundabouts fashion reflecting the scales of waiting dragons. "At least Eragon is easier to deal with than Saphira." Said Soren as his hands saddled the very patience Ceneric.
I'm not so sure. Replied the lazy raven dragon. Gladia hated saddles with a passion but she had to wear them every time I rode her despite her vengeful desires to destroy the leather device. A snap escaped her mouth causing others to stare in wide eye terror at her. I absolute despise to these things! Sitting comfortably was one thing when red wings grabbed the air pushing up to fly above the city towards the looming tower that housed the oldest pair in the whole city.
The solo tower held a melancholy compared to the rest city conflicting between the world of light, warmth, happiness to the dark, cold, broken tower. It was the same melancholy that accompanied the Elder Rider when I first met him back in prison; we were swallowed by pure dejection from the realm of light. The familiar statues of heroic dragons and Riders held names in the Liduen Kvaedhi at the feet or claws of the fallen, forgotten history of the first Riders. The same heavy maple doors revealed the study hording a sapphire dragon curled upon the violet cushion so universally used by the rest of the Order used expect for its large size.
Her Rider was not that far from the window overlooking Doru Araeba in second to none view as the sun sullenly inched across his frame. The desk still had papers flown about; a couple quills and pens went everywhere on the desk. This time however a solitary high back chair coldly positioned before the large desk in the books filled study. Another chair grimly held its presence in the cross examinations before ours. Quickly it hissed out its protests when I sat on it while Gladia took her place in the rear reaching over me by use of her head.
Domina Saphira, Dominus Eragon you called for us? Gladia answered not trusting my mouth.
"We received your latest reports and we decided—"
That you both are excelling our expectations—"With Apprentices Soren and Ceneric—"
To patrol the Prime Cost especially—"The cities of Narda, Teirm, and Kusta."
If you succeed than you are finishing your apprenticeships.
"Ceneric and Soren have been informed already. What to you say?"
"Yes!" The Prime Coast was the most dangerous area of Alagaesia because it was harder to enforce the countless criminal empires and it was the breeding ground for much illegal activity. In short, a rite of passage undergone by the most privileged Apprentices who have proven themselves ready. With a wave of Eragon's hand he dismissed us to pack for numerous objects for the patrol in the assigned bedroom.
The Riders' uniforms were usually nothing on the other hand for thickened clothes for flying or general use. Instead I got my red handkerchief, white breeches that reached slightly pass the knees, a clean white shirt that hung loosely on my fame and to top it all off a red silk slash hiding the leather belt. The outfit I was wearing before now laid on the freshly made bed was the same deep crimson of Gladia on it was a bright golden badge of an Apprentice. The badge had a sword crossing over nothing; the badge of Rider had two swords crossing each other.
The boredom here finally has ended! I miss Asa's turtle soup. Gladia was random at times or just down right moody especially when she was irritated only roar for the isle to hear.
Asa could make a good soup. No wonder he was the ship's cook.
"Hello there. Did you hear!" Soren practically bounced stating his building energy. Truth be told, I did not see any real excitement visiting the costal cities from years of being locked up on a ship and going to them under quarantine.
"Let's going." Frustration crawled in the lowest depths only did I pray that Soren would not be too distracted to perform his duties. He disapproves my all theories when especially he acquired a vast amount of time on picking what he would wear to do the patrol. Finally he chose an earthy brown tunic, black leather pants, fairly worn deep coffee boots, and a black vast. His short hair only graced his chin in untidy attempted to be tamed around his face.
"How can you keep your hair under that banana all day?" He pointed the vivid red thing on my head usually its navy blue.
"Simple. I like there." My hand grabbed my guns when we strolled to tacked up the one apathetic dragon the other was well just being happy.
Piss off! Her eyes venomously glared at the saddle in my right hand outside.
Please! Just for the guns. I pleaded my case with her by means of heartrending eyes hoping for her good side.
Fine! The glaring eyes bore into my soul ever so plainly exposed by her.
"Your dragon is creepy," Poor Soren scuttled from the semi demonic view to quietly whisper. I heard that! I cheerfully chuckled at the politics, or lack thereof, played in our group.
Soon the sky greeted us as we flew over to the first city Teirm prospecting the chance of catching the unaware delinquents. The orderly city was panorama on the beach at once the citizens cheered of having two Dragonriders. The mayor Aemilius Enit warmly watched us land at Lex Palace when the government resigned. By the time we landed successfully the sun painted the sky in the dramatic reds, oranges, and violets during the twilight.
"Eragon Bromsson did report you two were reach us by dusk. I'm sure you must be tired however dinner is ready and…" He bowed mentioning his hands directing us onto the white cobber pathway. "There are certain duties you must attend to." The short fragile mayor held an air of superiority over anyone who had to meet him otherwise they succumb to his charismatic charm as it worked on Soren.
"Yes, how foolish of us to forget such an important obligation else we would dishonor such a gracious host such as yourself, Mayor Enit." A soft snigger in Soren's throat shocked me mainly his face was perfectly still like a soldier's. "Mayor Enit," The name rolled off his tongue he was playing with the name identical to cat toying a cornered mouse.
"Your name suits you nicely, Enit. However, it displeases me to inform you that my companion and I are weary. Conversely we wish to join you tomorrow night to formally patrol Teirm." That smooth voice obviously had years of practiced even a scarier thought application of that voice. The person I knew replaced by someone else to explain himself.
"I believe you have the best interests of Teirm in your heart Rider. What is your name?" A growing fascination between the two cunning liars blossomed deep inside trying so hard to win an advantage over each other.
"Sermon Tacitus, and this is Morgan Ignotum," Why use a false name? My eyes darted on them wishing for Soren to reveal more of his past as I sensed something the two met before.
"Funny Rider, we had a killer thief that mange to steal over half of our reserves and other cities' treasuries. You looked very much like him." Without a second the group leisurely walked down the path into the narcissistic palace of quote on quote Teirm while I lagged behind Alvis and Soren. A forced laughter ripped out filling the air in flute sound as Soren tried to hide something. "The Honorable Judge Senka presiding over his case. She declared him a monster to civil society in Teirm made him public enemy in Surda, Silvas, Port Victoria, just to name a few. He was to be executed before mid-day."
Politely we took ours seats at the long wooden table in room when one side had a fire buring in a fireplace, dark wooden floors, high windows facing the setting the port behind deep red curtains, expensive silverware graced the hard black marble table. A feast was set in pure vainglorious fashion putting the Riders' humble meals to shame. The smell of cherry floated on the air when handsomely clothed servants poured cherry wine in the long flute glasses. In one skillfully moved did the mayor stolen the head of the table as I sat across from the windows and Soren.
The food was good, wine poured in endless rivers, the conversation went bitter when the two liars continued to probe one another in drunken fever. Soren I realized never had to reliant on hard liquor for survival maybe the fable faervri could not match his drunken state. What is he doing? Little One. Gladia's voice was a comforting considering I drank more than both of them combine was only feeling slightly intoxicated. Their words slur while mine were perfectly normal. I don't know. If he keeps this up he won't have any side effects. Why we should let he get off so easily?
If you get him more drunk maybe?
I grinned. I stood up to my full height to overlooking the drunkards. "I have an idea to end this debate once and for all." They both gawked me wondering what could silence their word, after all words will turn into hits.
"Let's have your most powerful beer." Quickly servants carried the large barrens to leak, by the scent, rum. Soon the two were acting long lost friends carrying a death wish for each other equally guarding their tongues. The rum was perfect enough for anyone to join their merriment in song or laughter. The music on the other hand was well?
"Tis the sweet maiden
who loved me on the shore.
Turned into a Rider, she be.
Her heart as cruel as sea!"
Alvis' hand swatted the glass on the table erupting in pure laughter as he fell over table. Soren's laughter entered his as did mine. Thoughts blurred into bliss leaving all responsible behind as my chair was pushed too far back to support my weight. It flew over as the hard floor coldly met me in a laughing hysteria renewing the spirit of the party.
Your plan backfired.
"You're…drshunk." Pointed the mayor.
"We shhhould get to…" Soren's burped intruded on his slurred sentence.
"Come now." Civilly I picked Soren as his hand held a wineskin trying to continue the night. We staggered into the maze of hall leaving the guide behind in the dinning room. Soren's face was red in the darkened halls. The walls had old paintings of past rulers in the city's history.
The place was frightening especially at night in the blackest shadows held monstrosities and nightmares. I opened my mind searching out to find that feeling. It was clawing in my gut warning something was amiss in these halls. Training was ineffective in the state we were in; we could easily kill each other with magic.
A force shoves me on the nearest wall as he flew into the opposite wall pinning him down was a shadow of a woman. In a second I rose to my knees to push to their wall hoping to catch her off guard despite the slower reflexes. Instantaneously the feminine shadow pin me to the original wall with inhumanly strength as her breath smelled of dried blood.
Her fangs pierced the skin with easy sending chills running down my spine as my mind was forcefully invaded by an alien presence. My blood poured from the new wound ebbing my life away fueling hers. The pain should be there yet I was embraced by pure ecstatic trance. Happily death sat at the doorstep.
MORGAN!
Whether the scream was mental or physical triggered an instinct reviving me. The vampire's long neck exposed from the satin hood paled in the moonlight. An urge dictated every muscle as I bit down hard on her neck drawing her dead blood in my mouth.
If I was sane I would be repulse by the fact I was enjoying her blood as if it was something perious. Without missing a heartbeat I heaved her off of me facing her horrified face while a hissing could be heard. The hiss was deep and throaty asserting its authority only to have her hiss at me.
Her movement slowed as our fight began any fog left over was immediately gone clearing mind. The hall brightly lit as the swirls in the marble wall darkened. The portraits' paint strokes appeared even the small flaws in the glass grow sharper.
However the vampire's skin was strangely statuette, perfect not even a pore on the skin. Her dilated eyes were blood being poured into the iris. Her dark brown hair shined in supernaturally brilliant done in style a century or two ago. Her long fingernails threaten to scratch away at the brighter tanned skin melting into the shadows verus her flashing pale skin. A quick punch to her stomach dug deeply hoping for any damage only to have blood falling on my vision. Her kick to the pant was a cheap shot conversely my knee push itself under her ribcage to send her flying away through the glass. The glass shattered virtually raining down on Soren's raising body.
She appeared again squatting on the window still unit voices thundered down the hall. She disappeared when I turn to find various men carrying torches yelling slaughtered words I could not make sense of it. I felt cold, tired so I allow the darkness swallowed me whole in waiting embrace again.