Free Riders
Author's Note: Eragon is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit.
Chapter 53: Concluding Terms
Snatches of the Shade's memory, as well as that of one of the spirits, kept attacking Blaster's mind. Memories flashed by, usually inflicting a little pain as they passed, simultaneously making it very difficult for Blaster to concentrate on any single, coherent thought. He barely had any idea where the Shade and the spirit ended and where he began, unable to remove the new addition to his mind. But the violent images that Blaster saw was nearly enough to cause his own spirit to split in anguish.
A pile of bodies seemed to rise into his vision…numerous innocents who had been slaughtered by the Shade's orders. Corpses clouded his vision, occasionally an entire village of them, taken from the world by sword or magic. Carnage surrounded him, making it impossible to escape. He felt like he was a candle in the wind, wavering until it was snuffed. Just like his own personal nightmare nearly 13 years ago, he couldn't escape from himself, so he prayed for his life, for someone to help him.
Keep trying, Rider, a voice said, sinister in tone. The spirit that Blaster absorbed finally began talking. You will never be able to help yourself, thanks to me. Your mind is mine, and you will submit to me.
Out of the darkness, a cluster of his own memories burst forth. Finding the egg and helping Eragon. Further back, knocking back a curse hurled at him by an "all-powerful" Dark Lord. Further still, memories of sealing Zeon, King of the Devils alongside a young man named Bowie, a strange, suppressed thought of helping out a purple and yellow dragon fight villains who attempted to take over the Dragon Realms. Further back, Xehanort's downfall, not once, but twice. And, furthest of all, the image of his friends as they all stood before a young woman, being Knighted on a strange world and receiving their inheritance: A massive, small-city space vessel. Most importantly, his friends faces appeared.
You think you can call your friends while I have you trapped in your own mind? The spirit said. Blaster battled with the spirit, still in the form of a black cloud of smoke, on a stained-glass platform he knew was there from all those years ago with Sora. The platform depicted himself and tons of his friends, so many that they were nearly nothing more than little dots.
You like this place? Blaster retorted. You have entered my heart. I will demand that you seek sanctuary elsewhere.
But, my friend, the spirit mocked, I will not be leaving anytime soon. You have Darkness in you. I sense it. You've been tempted by the Dark Side, and yet you continue to resist. Perhaps I should knock you over the edge and take complete control.
Though Blaster continued to resist, the spirit used its strength to thrust Blaster to the edge of the platform. The alien was stopped by an invisible forcefield. Just as suddenly as the spirit attacked, Blaster's vision of the Station faded as a new influence entered his mind.
Come to me.
This new invader of his mind was vast and powerful, like a mountain looming over him. It was blocking the pain and reflecting some of it to the spirit. A song played through the invader's mind, but, unlike Arya's, it was a song full of deep amber-gold chords that throbbed in magisterial melancholy.
After a few moments, Blaster finally asked, Who are you?
One who will help. With a flicker, the Shade's negligible influence lifted off Blaster's mind, and the Spirit was swept away into the confines of Blaster's mind, brushed aside like a cobweb. Finally freed of the oppression, Blaster expanded his mind until it reached a barrier it couldn't pass. I have protected you as best I can, but you are so far away that I can do no more than shield your sanity and your mind.
Who are you to do such things? Blaster asked again.
The response came as a low rumble. I am Oshato Chetowä, the Mourning Sage. And Togira Ikonoka, the Cripple Who Is Whole. Come to me, Blastbone Clarkson, for I have answers to all you ask. You will not truly be safe until you find me.
Where are you, then?
Trust Arya and go with her and Eragon to Ellesméra—I will be there. I have waited many seasons, so do not delay or it may soon be too late. You are much greater than you know, Blaster. Think of what you have done and rejoice, for you have helped the man who has rid the land of a great evil. It is a deed no one else could have wrought. Many will be in your debt.
All I did was stager the Shade, Blaster retorted. I do not see how that makes others indebted to me.
But, you think too lowly of yourself. Had you not nudged the Shade's mind, Eragon would have died without being able to show his true colors. He, at least, is in your debt.
The stranger was right; he had helped a mere farm boy kill a Shade, a feat worthy of recognition and honor. However, his feats in battle, saving the lives of numerous allies from the Urgals was no small feat either. He felt like he was less of a pawn in the game of power and more of an independent entity, an authority higher than any king or leader.
A burst of color erupted in his mind as the Mourning Sage drew nearer. The vision solidified as a figure standing on a sun-drenched stone cliff, dressed in white. It is time for you to rest, Blaster. When you wake, do not speak of me to anyone. Though the face was still obscured by a silver nimbus, but Blaster could sense he was smiling. Remember, you must go to the elves. Now, sleep…He raised a hand in benediction, and a calm washed over Blaster. Before he finally blacked out into restful sleep was that his long-deceased father would have been proud of him.
FRFRFRFRFR
"Wake up," a voice commanded. "Wake up, Blaster! You've been sleeping for far too long." The alien stirred, but he was too comfortable to leave the warmth that surrounded him. "I said, WAKE UP!"
A sharp snap and a sudden pain to his cheek jerked Blaster awake, though he opened his eyes slowly. Above him were Angela and Char, each with a small smile on them. "How do you feel?" Angela asked.
Disoriented and confused, he sat up a little to take in all the surroundings. "I feel…off. Like I was just hit by a boulder."
"Then you shouldn't move anymore," Char said. "Conserve your strength."
Angela ran her hand through her curly hair, still wearing her armor. Char too had her armor on. He racked his brains as Angela came by with a cup of mead. His last thoughts were of losing a battle, killing Urgals, with Durza, and…"Eragon and Saphira!" he blurted. He jerked upright and had to hold his head to keep the room from spinning. "How are they? Will they be alright? I know the Urgals were winning, and she was falling with Arya on her back to help Eragon. And Sara? What about her?"
"They all lived," Angela assured. "And have been waiting for you to wake up. Do you wish to see them?" He sat up straighter and nodded. The door practically burst open when Angela opened it and Arya, Murtagh, and Eragon rushing in. Saphira and Sara poked their heads through the doorway, unable to fit through the portal. Sara's chest was humming.
It is good to see you well, little one, Sara said tenderly.
Same as you, Blaster replied.
I believe everyone else wishes to tell the story, so I will let them.
Blaster nodded, then looked at the trio. Eragon had a small bandage on his right arm, while Murtagh had a small dressing on his head and Arya had one on her left arm. "About time you woke up," Murtagh said, grinning. "We've been sitting in the hallway for hours."
"What happened?" Blaster asked.
Arya and Eragon looked slightly saddened, but Murtagh crowed, "We won! It was incredible! When the Shade's spirits, if that's what they were, flew across Farthen Dûr, the Urgals ceased fighting to watch them go. It was as though they were released from a spell then, because their clans suddenly turned and attacked each other. Their entire army disintegrated within minutes, and were routed after that."
"They're all dead?" Blaster asked.
"No," Eragon explained. "Many escaped into the tunnels, where the dwarves and the Varden are busy ferreting them out as we speak. It's going to take a while, though. Murtagh was helping, but an Urgal bashed him on the head and he had to come back here."
"You aren't leaving?" Blaster asked, looking at the son of Morzan.
"No," Murtagh said. "A lot of Varden and dwarves were killed and the survivors are busy picking up the pieces. But, at least, according to what Eragon said, you have cause to be happy. You helped beat the Shade, Durza. If it weren't for you, we would have lost Eragon and this battle."
Blaster grinned at this statement. His face became serious again. "What about those damn Twins?"
"I have put wards around the city-mountain so that they can never return," Arya said.
"So," Eragon said, "Blaster's now awake, I'm awake…where's Brom?"
A pang of sadness filled the room. They had not told Eragon about what happened to Brom on the battlefield. Blaster beconed the boy to come forward and sit in a chair by his bed. After a long silence, he finally managed to say, "Eragon, Brom was slain in battle. He was killed by an Urgal and beyond my abilities to heal. I'm sorry."
As Blaster brought the boy in for a hug of condolence, he felt a ropy lump stretching from his right shoulder to his left hip, a scar given to him by Durza, making him equal to Murtagh. He remembered, through the disfiguration, of the Cripple Who Is Whole, and his request. He would gladly go to learn more. "What about my men?"
"They survived," Angela said. "Few were wounded, but they held the line well. They expected to die in battle after your orders were given, but they couldn't have been more blessed to get reinforcements and a much needed respite in the battle." Blaster smiled at this, glad he didn't order his men to their deaths.
"Blaster, one more bit of news," Char said. "You've been out for four whole days."
"Longer than when I contracted that Dwegronian Flu," Blaster said. "What else is there to report?"
"Well, not to go into too many words, Alice contacted me just 12 hours ago," Char sighed. "She is now able to penetrate the magical interference. We can go home."
"How?"
"Just a little over 12 hours ago, Alice picked up a signal, then a kind of wormhole opened up. Blaster, the Bellerophon is here. We can go home."
Blaster thought for a moment, then said, "I would rather stay here and help these people before returning home. I've seen oppression, slavery, and all sorts of devilry that would make Hitler look tame by comparison. No, we stay until the oath-breaker king is dead."
Char nodded. She ordered everyone out. "I will let Cody know," she said. "Until you feel well enough, we will be outside."
As soon as the door clicked closed, Blaster dozed off again, this time with the knowledge that all his friends would be here to help. To help end the war, to help overthrow the king, and to help get back home. A smile grew on Blaster's face as he drifted off from dozing to restful sleep.
And now the whole crew is here for the remainder of the Saga. Thanks for reading Free Riders. Stay tuned as we begin to kick off the rest with Free Riders 2: Kingdom of the Repressed.