Chapter 2: The House
Ialana emerged from the inn enraged and covered in blood - some of which was her own, some of which wasn't. So much for that place.
Her human side began to return, very slowly. She began to feel the same creeping remorse that always overtook her after a violent "Shade-like" period, particularly one in which she had harmed somebody. Now I have killed...so many...fourteen? And those were only the ones she could remember.
She has passed every test. Her talent for sorcery is amazing, as is her ability to communicate through telepathy. Durza is left gasping for air, his energy drained, after challenging her to a duel. "You...are...amazingly talented", he gasps. "Yes, master", she replies, "thank you master." Durza reaches over and lays his hand on her shoulder. "You do not have to call me "master" any longer", he says.
Ialana (almost literally) stumbled upon a desolate and deserted house. Could it even be called a house? It looked more like a pile of ashes. Evidence of Ra'zac involvement was obvious. Ialana's heart was in her throat. This was the place Arya the she-elf had told her to go - the former home of Eragon. From there, she recalled, cross the Spine, the place of perils - she had spoken of such a place as if it were nothing - and on the other side, you will find Du Weldenvarden and the freedom fighters, the Varden, who reside there. Well, but first she needed sleep for the night. She lay down on what had once been a ceiling beam. For a human it would have been very uncomfortable, sleeping on a fallen board, but Ialana's magical training and her Shade instincts made it so she could sleep and be comfortable in almost any situation...not to mention she was very tired. Within three minutes after her reddish eyes closed, she was asleep. And in her sleep she dreamed.
She dreamed that she was walking through a wide forest, which she assumed to be Du Weldenvarden. Men - no, some were elves - anyway, men and elves - and dwarves! - anyway, all manner of people, walked around her in a huge crowd. Some approached her...and they all simply faded through her like ghosts. A young man, who looked to be between seventeen and twenty, with brown hair and eyes, was among them. He seemed human enough, but his visage bore the look of an elf, and a look of wisdom and experience balanced out the boyish gleam in his eyes. Ialana knew, though she knew not how she knew, that this was Eragon Shadeslayer. "Atra esterni ono thelduin, Eragon Shur'tugal!", she called to him. He turned, and seemed to see her, though no one else could. Instead of returning the greeting, he slowly unsheathed his sword.
"Ganga!", he cried. "Go! Be gone!" Ialana was startled.
"Fricai onr eka eddyr!", she called back.
But all he would say was, "Ganga! Be gone! Ganga aht deyja!" Go or die...
Then, "Brisingr!", and the sword lit on fire, setting the trees ablaze and engulfing Eragon in a cloak of flame...
Ialana woke up. The stars had all faded away, and the sky was turning from pitch-black to a shining violet/gray. A chill wind had begun to blow, and a few drops of freezing-cold rain fell on the half-Shade's face. If she was to make it to the place called "the Spine" before a full-on winter storm began, she would have to leave soon - "soon" to a warrior having the meaning of "now."
When Ialana made it to the beginning of the mountain pass, snow was falling along with rain, the clouds combined with the dark of very-early morning making it almost impossible to see. "Barzul", Ialana cursed in Dwarvish under her breath. "Barzul!", she said again, this time in a yell.
She was extremely startled to hear a man's yell from the north in return. "Hall-ooooo-oh-a! Why do you shout, stranger?"