Answers to reviews:
Master drew: Hmm, read a few of those authors' stories, and they are quite good.
Maelstrom2.0: I've only watched the TV show.
Dreagon D. Dragon: Like I said, drama.
Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls or The Inheritance Cycle.
"In the dream was a dark, dilapidated room. Inside was a dark haired woman. She was chained and her body was abused and beaten. I couldn't see her eyes but I could see the trail of a tear fall down her cheek – I don't know why but I felt heart-broken and lonely… I've never seen her before." Eragon explained the next morning as he sat with Daemon in their room, both having awoken and Eragon felt he needed to apologize for crying on his friend's shoulder last night.
Daemon told him not to apologize, that he understood. he'd feel the same in Eragon's position, and that led to Daemon asking if Eragon could tell him about the dream, which Eragon was doing right now.
"You've never seen her?" Daemon asked with a frown, taking everything Eragon had told him into account.
Eragon shook his head, "No, I've never seen her before in my life… I don't know what I saw."
Daemon sat in the chair reflecting upon Eragon's dream. Could he have just seen a vision? Brom's never mentioned about magician's having the gift to peer into the future. Could it have been caused by the magic of this land? After silently thinking for a few moments, Daemon shook his head.
"I'm not sure what to tell you, Eragon." he said softly. "Perhaps what you saw is just a figment of your imagination getting the better of you after all our work we've done."
"I guess you're right." Eragon said, rubbing his eyes. "I'm sorry for just... dumping this all on you.
"Weren't you the one who said we were family?" Daemon retorted. "Family looks out for each other. Trust me, there comes a time when a person need to break down and let it all out or else they will go insane from the amount of pressure and negative feelings building up inside of them. And after everything you've been through, from your uncle's death, hunting the Ra'zac, what happened at Yazuac, learning to use magic, I'd be very surprised if you didn't break from it all. But I fear the worst is yet to come, but at least you've got me, Saphira and Brom, so you're not alone."
Eragon smiled. "Thank you, Daemon."
"What are older brothers for?" Daemon asked with a wink. "You ever feel like needing to get something off your chest and someone to listen, you know Saphira and I are here for that."
Eragon nodded, smiling wider now. Saphira joined in on agreeing with Daemon. He's right, little one. We will always be here for you, whenever you need someone to listen to.
A routine was soon established. Every day Eragon got up, ate in the kitchen, then went to the study for his lessons, where he labored to memorize the sounds of the letters and the rules of writing. It got so that when he closed his eyes, letters and words danced in his mind. He thought of little else during that time.
Before dinner, he and Daemon would go behind Jeod's house and spar with swords. The servants, along with a small crowd of wide-eyed children, would come and watch. They even sparred with their fists, because Daemon said "You never know when there comes a time that the fists will need to be your weapons rather than a sword. I learned it the hard way."
If there was any time afterward, Eragon would practice magic in his room, with the curtains securely closed.
They also visited Saphira every single chance they could, and spend as much time with her as they could before they'd go back to Teirm. Their meetings with Saphira were filled with teasing banter between them, especially between Daemon and Saphira as they'd tease either each other or Eragon, who would retort with his own teasing. Sometimes they'd just lay against Saphira and talk about whatever springs to mind.
Every day more grim news poured into Teirm. Arriving merchants told of horrific attacks along the coast. There were reports of powerful people disappearing from their houses in the night and their mangled corpses being discovered in the morning. Eragon and Daemon often heard Brom and Jeod discussing the events in an undertone, but they always stopped when they came near.
The days passed quickly, and soon a week had gone by. Eragon's skills were rudimentary, but he could now read whole pages without asking Brom's help. He read slowly, but he knew that speed would come with time.
It was afternoon when Brom summoned Jeod, Daemon and Eragon to the study. Brom gestured at Eragon. "Now that you can help us, I think it's time to move ahead."
"What do you have in mind?" Daemon asked, crossing his arms. He was a little eager to get some action after a while.
A fierce smile danced on Brom's face. Jeod groaned. "I know that look; it's what got us into trouble in the first place."
"A slight exaggeration," said Brom, "but not unwarranted. Very well, this is what we'll do... "
We leave tonight or tomorrow, Eragon told Saphira from within his and Jayden's room.
This is unexpected. Will you be safe during this venture? Daemon almost rolled his eyes at the expected question, especially since Saphira always mothered over him and Eragon.
Eragon shrugged. I don't know. We may end up fleeing Teirm with soldiers on our heels. He felt her worry and tried to reassure her. It'll be all right. Daemon, Brom and I can use magic and we're good fighters.
Of course, if it makes you feel any better, you can always crash in the middle of the city should we be captured. Daemon piped in teasingly with a grin.
Saphira growled in response. With you two? Don't tempt me.
Eragon woke from his nap to a golden sunset. Red and orange beams of light streamed into the room and fell across the bed. They warmed his back pleasantly, making him reluctant to move. He dozed, but the sunlight crept off him, and he grew cold. The sun sank below the horizon, lighting the sea and sky with color. Almost time!
He shook Daemon awake, getting a groan from the Dragonborn but he was soon wide awake as he got ready with Eragon, grabbing their respective weapons. They gave each other a slight nod, then proceeded out and down the stairs.
Brom and Jeod were waiting outside for them. Brom was in the middle of criticizing Jeod's choice of weapon, an elegant rapier, when he saw the two emerge from the house. They walked casually along the street, avoiding watchmen and soldiers. Eragon was tense and his heart pounded. As they passed Angela's shop, a flash of movement on the roof caught his attention, but he saw no one. His palm tingled. He looked at the roof again, but it was still empty.
Brom led them along Teirm's outer wall. By the time they reached the castle, the sky was black. The sealed walls of the fortress made Eragon shiver. He would hate to be imprisoned there. Jeod silently took the lead and strode up to the gates, trying to look at ease. He pounded on the gate and waited.
A small grille slid open and a surly guard peered out. "Ya?" he grunted shortly. Eragon could smell rum on his breath.
"We need to get in," said Jeod.
The guard peered at Jeod closer. "Wha' for?"
"The boy here left something very valuable in my office. We have to retrieve it immediately." Eragon hung his head, shamefaced.
The guard frowned, clearly impatient to get back to his bottle. "Ah, wha'ever," he said, swinging his arm. "Jus' make sure 'n give 'im a good beating f'r me."
"I'll do that," assured Jeod as the guard unbolted a small door set into the gate. They entered the keep, then Brom handed the guard a few coins.
"Thank'ee," mumbled the man, tottering away. As soon as he was gone, Eragon pulled his bow from its tube and strung it. Jeod quickly let them into the main part of the castle. They hurried toward their destination, listening carefully for any soldiers on patrol. Halfway down a hallway, Daemon nudged Eragon, gave a nod at Brom with a small smirk before going off in a different direction while throwing his Nighingale hood up. Eragon went to say something but Brom pulled him along, shooting him a look to be silent.
At the records room, Brom tried the door. It was locked. He put his hand against the door and muttered a word that Eragon did not recognize. It swung open with a faint click. Brom grabbed a torch from the wall, and they darted inside, closing the door quietly.
The squat room was filled with wooden racks piled high with scrolls. A barred window was set in the far wall. Jeod threaded his way between the racks, running his eyes over the scrolls. He halted at the back of the room. "Over here," he said. "These are the shipping records for the past five years. You can tell the date by the wax seals on the corner."
"So what do we do now?" asked Eragon, pleased that they had made it so far without being discovered.
"Start at the top and work down," said Jeod. "Some scrolls only deal with taxes. You can ignore those. Look for anything that mentions Seithr oil." He took a length of parchment from his pouch and stretched it out on the floor, then set a bottle of ink and a quill pen next to it. "So we can keep track of whatever we find," he explained.
Brom scooped an armful of scrolls from the top of the rack and piled them on the floor. He sat and unrolled the first one. Eragon joined him, positioning himself so he could see the door. The tedious work was especially difficult for him, as the cramped script on the scrolls was different from the printing Brom had taught him.
By looking only for the names of ships that sailed in the northern areas, they winnowed out many of the scrolls. Even so, they moved down the rack slowly, recording each shipment of Seithr oil as they located it.
It was quiet outside the room, except for the occasional watchman. Suddenly, Eragon's neck prickled. He tried to keep working, but the uneasy feeling remained. Irritated, he looked up and jerked with surprise—a small boy crouched on the windowsill. His eyes were slanted, and a sprig of holly was woven into his shaggy black hair.
Do you need help? asked a voice in Eragon's head. His eyes widened with shock. It sounded like Solembum.
Is that you? he asked incredulously.
Am I someone else?
Eragon gulped and concentrated on his scroll. If my eyes don't deceive me, you are.
The boy smiled slightly, revealing pointed teeth. What I look like doesn't change who I am. You don't think I'm called a werecat for nothing, do you?
What are you doing here? Eragon asked.
The werecat tilted his head and considered whether the question was worth an answer. That depends on what you are doing here. If you are reading those scrolls for entertainment, then I suppose there isn't any reason for my visit. But if what you are doing is unlawful and you don't want to be discovered, I might be here to warn you that the guard whom you bribed just told his replacement about you and that this second official of the Empire has sent soldiers to search for you.
Thank you for telling me, said Eragon.
Told you something, did I? I suppose I did. And I suggest you make use of it.
The boy stood and tossed back his wild hair. Eragon asked quickly, What did you mean last time about the tree and the vault?
Exactly what I said.
Eragon tried to ask more, but the werecat vanished through the window. He announced abruptly, "There are soldiers looking for us."
"How do you know?" asked Brom sharply.
"I listened in on the guard. His replacement just sent men to search for us. We have to get out of here. They've probably already discovered that Jeod's office is empty."
"Are you sure?" asked Jeod.
"Yes!" said Eragon impatiently. "They're on their way."
Brom snatched another scroll from the rack. "No matter. We have to finish this now!" They worked furiously for the next minute, scanning the records as fast as they could. As the last scroll was finished, Brom threw it back onto the rack, and Jeod jammed his parchment, ink, and pen into his pouch. Eragon grabbed the torch.
They raced from the room and shut the door, but just as it closed they heard the heavy tramp of soldiers' boots at the end of the hall. They turned to leave, but Brom hissed furiously, "Damnation! It's not locked." He put his hand against the door. The lock clicked at the same time three armed soldiers came into view.
"Hey! Get away from that door!" shouted one of them. Brom stepped back, assuming a surprised expression. The three men marched up to them. The tallest one demanded, "Why are you trying to get into the records?" Eragon gripped his bow tighter and prepared to run.
"I'm afraid we lost our way." The strain was evident in Jeod's voice. A drop of sweat rolled down his neck.
The soldier glared at them suspiciously. "Check inside the room," he ordered one of his men.
Eragon held his breath as the soldier stepped up to the door, tried to open it, then pounded on it with his mailed fist. "It's locked, sir."
The leader scratched his chin. "Ar'right, then. I don't know what you were up to, but as long as the door's locked, I guess you're free to go. Come on." The soldiers surrounded them and marched them back to the keep.
I can't believe it, thought Eragon. They're helping us get away!
At the main gates, the soldier pointed and said, "Now, you walk through those and don't try anything. We'll be watching. If you have to come back, wait until morning."
"Of course," promised Jeod.
Eragon could feel the guards' eyes boring into their backs as they hurried out of the castle. Eragon was able to hear the leader address his men once more. "Okay boys, lets go check out the east wing. Someone reported noises coming from the administrator's office."
The moment that the gates closed behind them, a triumphant grin stretched across his face, and he jumped into the air. Brom shot him a cautioning look and growled, "Walk back to the house normally. You can celebrate there."
Chastised, Eragon adopted a staid demeanor, but inside he still bubbled with energy. From out of the shadows, Daemon suddenly walked out while carrying a heavy pack, walking alongside them casually. Eragon tried to say something but got a look from Brom and Jeod this time.
Once they had hurried back to the house and into the study, Eragon exclaimed, "We did it!"
"Yes, but now we have to figure out if it was worth the trouble," said Brom. Daemon lowered the pack he had to the floor and started sorting through it. Brom noticed this and put his hands on his hips, asking with a stern tone like a father would to his child after catching him doing something. "And just where were you while we were doing all the hard work?"
"Shopping." Daemon replied casually, getting confused looks from the other three and he showed them the pack's contents. Eragon looked on in wonder as Daemon revealed food, supplies and equipment that they would have needed when they started back on the road again.
Brom asked incredulously, "Where did you get all this?"
"Some room in the east wing, looked quite expensive so I... couldn't help myself." Daemon said with a small grin.
Jeod's eyes widened. "You broke into the administrator's personal storeroom?"
"Not like he was going to need it anytime soon, fat idiot if he dines on what I saw, so I helped him out by lighting the load he had." Daemon said with another smirk and a shrug. "Always love taking from the rich and powerful."
"But that storeroom is locked! How did you get in?" Jeod asked.
"Lockpicked it." Daemon said with a smirk. It helps to be the master thief of a Thieves Guild, learning every skill needed for thieving like lockpicking for one.
Jeod took a map of Alagaësia from the shelves and unrolled it on the desk. Eragon helped Daemon in sorting out the pack of supplies and repacking it. After that was done, the two joined the older men at the map.
On the left side of the map, the ocean extended to the unknown west. Along the coast stretched the Spine, an immense length of mountains. The Hadarac Desert filled the center of the map—the east end was blank. Somewhere in that void hid the Varden. To the south was Surda, a small country that had seceded from the Empire after the Riders' fall. And apparently, Surda secretly supported the Varden.
Near Surda's eastern border was a mountain range labeled Beor Mountains. Eragon had heard of them in many stories—they were supposed to be ten times the height of the Spine, though he privately believed that was exaggeration. The map was empty to the east of the Beors.
Five islands rested off the coast of Surda: Nía, Parlim, Uden, Illium, and Beirland. Nía was no more than an outcropping of rock, but Beirland, the largest, had a small town. Farther up, near Teirm, was a jagged island called Sharktooth. And high to the north was one more island, immense and shaped like a knobby hand. Eragon knew its name without even looking: Vroengard, the ancestral home of the Riders—once a place of glory, but now a looted, empty shell haunted by strange beasts. In the center of Vroengard was the abandoned city of Dorú Areaba.
Carvahall was a small dot at the top of Palancar Valley. Level with it, but across the plains, sprawled the forest Du Weldenvarden. Like the Beor Mountains, its eastern end was unmapped. Parts of Du Weldenvarden's western edge had been settled, but its heart lay mysterious and unexplored. The forest was wilder than the Spine; the few who braved its depths often came back raving mad, or not at all.
Eragon shivered as he saw Urû'baen in the center of the Empire. King Galbatorix ruled from there with his black dragon, Shruikan, by his side. Eragon put his finger on Urû'baen. "The Ra'zac are sure to have a hiding place here."
"Of course, hiding in the King's own fortress." Daemon remarked dryly. "Where else would they go but to hide behind the most powerful figure in the land?"
"You had better hope that that isn't their only sanctuary," said Brom flatly. "Otherwise you'll never get near them." He pushed the rustling map flat with his wrinkled hands.
Jeod took the parchment out of his pouch and said, "From what I saw in the records, there have been shipments of Seithr oil to every major city in the Empire over the past five years. As far as I can tell, all of them might have been ordered by wealthy jewelers. I'm not sure how we can narrow down the list without more information."
Brom swept a hand over the map. "I think we can eliminate some cities. The Ra'zac have to travel wherever the King wants, and I'm sure he keeps them busy."
"So we can hope that they aren't at Urû'baen." Daemon stated more than asked.
"Yes." Brom nodded. "If they're expected to go anywhere at anytime, the only reasonable place for them to stay is at a crossroads where they can reach every part of the country fairly easily." He was excited now and paced the room. "This crossroads has to be large enough so the Ra'zac will be inconspicuous. It also has to have enough trade so any unusual requests—special food for their mounts, for example—will go unnoticed."
"That makes sense," said Jeod, nodding. "Under those conditions, we can ignore most of the cities in the north. The only big ones are Teirm, Gil'ead, and Ceunon. I know they're not in Teirm, and I doubt that the oil has been shipped farther up the coast to Narda—it's too small. Ceunon is too isolated... only Gil'ead remains."
"The Ra'zac might be there," conceded Brom. "It would have a certain irony."
"It would at that," Jeod acknowledged softly.
"What about southern cities?" asked Eragon.
"Well," said Jeod. "There's obviously Urû'baen, but that's an unlikely destination. If someone were to die from Seithr oil in Galbatorix's court, it would be all too easy for an earl or some other lord to discover that the Empire had been buying large amounts of it. That still leaves many others, any one of which could be the one we want."
"Yes," Daemon nodded, "but the oil wasn't sent to all of them. The parchment only lists Kuasta, Dras-Leona, Aroughs, and Belatona. Kuasta wouldn't work for the Ra'zac; it's on the coast and surrounded by mountains. Aroughs is isolated like Ceunon, though it is a center of trade."
Eragon added from then on. "That leaves Belatona and Dras-Leona, which are rather close together. Of the two, I think Dras-Leona is the likelier. It's larger and better situated."
"And that's where nearly all the goods of the Empire pass through at one time or another, including Teirm's," said Jeod. "It would be a good place for the Ra'zac to hide."
"So... Dras-Leona," said Brom as he sat down and lit his pipe. "What do the records show?"
Jeod looked at the parchment. "Here it is. At the beginning of the year, three shipments of Seithr oil were sent to Dras-Leona. Each shipment was only two weeks apart, and the records say they were all transported by the same merchant. The same thing happened last year and the year before that. I doubt any one jeweler, or even a group of them, has the money for so much oil."
"What about Gil'ead?" asked Brom, raising an eyebrow.
"It doesn't have the same access to the rest of the Empire. And," Jeod tapped the parchment, "they've only received the oil twice in recent years." He thought for a moment, then said, "Besides, I think we forgot something—Helgrind."
Brom nodded. "Ah yes, the Dark Gates. It's been many years since I've thought of it. You're right, that would make Dras-Leona perfect for the Ra'zac. I guess it's decided, then; that's where we'll go."
Eragon sat abruptly, too drained of emotion to even ask what Helgrind was. He conversed with Daemon mentally. I thought I would be happy to resume the hunt. Instead, I feel like an abyss has opened up before me. Dras-Leona! It's so far away...
We've come this far, Eragon, we shouldn't give up because of a little distance. I've walked further than this place. Daemon replied. We're so close though.
The parchment crackled as Jeod slowly rolled up the map. He handed it to Brom and said, "You'll need this, I'm afraid. Your expeditions often take you into obscure regions." Nodding, Brom accepted the map. Jeod clapped him on the shoulder. "It doesn't feel right that you will leave without me. My heart expects to go along, but the rest of me reminds me of my age and responsibilities."
"I know," said Brom. "But you have a life in Teirm. It is time for the next generation to take up the standard. You've done your part; be happy."
"What of you?" asked Jeod. "Does the road ever end for you?"
A hollow laugh escaped Brom's lips. "I see it coming, but not for a while." He extinguished his pipe, and they left for their rooms, exhausted.
Before they fell asleep, Eragon and Daemon contacted Saphira to relate the night's adventures.
In the morning Daemon, Eragon and Brom retrieved their saddlebags from the stable and prepared to depart. Jeod greeted Brom while Helen watched from the doorway. With grave looks, the two men clasped hands. "I'll miss you, old man," said Jeod.
"And you I," said Brom thickly. He bowed his white head and then turned to Helen. "Thank you for your hospitality; it was most gracious." Her face reddened. Daemon and Eragon thought she was going to slap him. Brom continued, unperturbed, "You have a good husband; take care of him. There are few men as brave and as determined as he is. But even he cannot weather difficult times without support from those he loves." He bowed again and said gently, "Only a suggestion, dear lady."
They watched as indignation and hurt crossed Helen's face. Her eyes flashed as she shut the door brusquely. Sighing, Jeod ran his fingers through his hair. Eragon thanked him for all his help, which Daemon did the same and told him he left a little stuff he took from the administrator's storeroom as thanks for everything Jeod's done for them, then mounted Shadowmere. With the last farewells said, they departed
At Teirm's south gate, the guards let them through without a second glance. As they rode under the giant outer wall, Eragon saw movement in a shadow. Solembum was crouched on the ground, tail twitching. The werecat followed them with inscrutable eyes.
"I'm going to miss this place." Eragon sighed. "it was pretty nice to spend somewhere for more than a day and almost feel... normal."
Daemon snorted. "I quite like the adventurous life, of travelling the road, having a cranky old man and a majestic dragoness for company."
Eragon laughed as Brom growled at Daemon's comment, while amusement came from Saphira before she playfully pointed out how Daemon had given her a flattering compliment. Eragon laughed as Daemon grumbled at the dragoness' teasing, but then that started to make him think on something. Namely the growing relationship between Daemon and Saphira.
He had noticed that Daemon and Saphira had been getting closer, which seemed to have started after Daemon became a dragon, though they were close even before Daemon became a dragon but he felt it was different now. Saphira respected Brom very highly, but didn't show him affection the way she had started to show Daemon lately, such as the nuzzling and asking him to scratch her chin. Daemon seemed to find ways to unintentionally bring her up in a conversation, and she'd join in at some points, leading to them talking to each other.
I wonder... Are Daemon and Saphira developing feelings for each other? Eragon thought to himself before he quietly snorted and shook his head at the idea. If that kind of thing happened, he's sure Daemon would tell him.
But it did make him think on what Brom said about dragon maturity. They didn't reach that stage until they were after six months of age, of which they would be ready to find a mate when the season hits. However, Saphira and Daemon's dragon bodies were just four months old, so neither were anywhere at the stage or ready for it. Eragon didn't want to bring it up, for any didn't want to cause his two companions to feel awkward afterwards.
He shook his head and kept his thoughts to himself, but made note to see the development of Daemon and Saphira's friendship in the days to come.
And that's it for this chapter everyone. We are leaving Teirm and are now back out onto the road.