"And you're sure he wasn't just trying to trick you into thinking that?" Asked Nasuada. Eragon had spent the last hour talking with her. She had consulted Orrin for maybe five minutes, then left to talk with Eragon. They had finally reached an agreement about Eragon's plans. They would do them.
To their left, pillars lined the palace gardens. Bees buzzed around it; pollinating the strange, brightly colored flowers of orange, blue, purple, red, green, violet, yellow, gold, and silver.
A strange flower like a dragon snap shifted as a bee landed on it. It was fire orange in the wide open center and a shiny blue on the top and bottom. The lip of the flower was lined with glinting golden teeth. It began to shake violently. Then it snapped shut on the black and gold bee. Around it, similar flowers did the same; all with differing amounts of success. Eragon winced slightly as ten tiny bees silently died. It was amazing, how fragile life was. Some could survive through anything, yet others, like the bees, died with ease.
To their right were elegantly carved doors. The carvings told amazing stories of love, peace, and dragons. Some were old enough to have seen the true stories of the riders, both sad and wonderful. They were only occasionally broken up by purple teak doors; all inlaid with similar carvings.
The vanilla limestone the carvings were made of complemented the shiny white marble floors. Lords and ladies clambered past them; bowing to both slightly with out a word. Almost no scratches littered the floors; despite the royal beating they received from everything from horses to high heels.
The only scratches were the new ones from Saphira. Even they could not stand the mighty hardness of dragon claw. Saphira had politely agreed to not lay her claws on the marble. If she had to be there, she would have to hover above the ground.
"Yes. Why else would I be here? He was out to try and catch me. He would have; had he known I was right there." Eragon replied. A noble dressed in black passed. Eragon strained to see his face, but to no avail. There was something proud about him…and cruel. The man gave a deep bow to show respect. Eragon answered with a dignified nod.
"Okay. So we have a week. I think two people will cover it. Since you wish to go, that means we still need to find one more." The man gave a graceful bow to her. She replied with an elegant curtsy. The man nodded and walked away.
They continued walking. A thought burned in Eragon a he just had to let it out.
"My liege, I want Roran to go too." Nasuada stopped dead. She turned away from Eragon.
"Eragon," Nasuada paused. She turned back to face him. She gave a deep sigh then continued, "you know better then I he isn't going to-" she stumbled. Her voice crumbled at the thought.
But Eragon didn't need to have her go on. He knew his cousin's likely fate…he hadn't responded well to the treatments. They were doing all they could. But…he wasn't going to make it.
A tear came to Eragon's eye. He tried to blink it back before Nasuada saw, but she beat him to it.
But Nasuada, determined to stay optimistic, said, "If he gets better by he time of the mission, he may go." Her voice rippled in solemn sorrow and sympathy. Eragon acknowledged the words in her eyes and the tremble of her voice. "I'm sorry Eragon." She softly whispered.
They started to walk again.
"Yes my liege. Now, about how we are going to get in. It pains me to say it, but I must say. I do look a lot like…" Eragon stumbled. Even walls have ears. Plus he was still uncomfortable with calling Murtagh his brother. No matter how real a fact that was.
"Your brother, Eragon." Nasuada said softer then a whisper in Eragon's keen elf ears. They stopped. She took a deep breathe and continued, "You can say it. You are wise, however, to keep this from unwelcome ears." A group of near-by nobles were clearly straining to hear what they were saying. Nasuada gave a quick glare to them.
She looked into his eyes. He, into hers. They exchanged a knowing glance; for admit it or not, they both loved Murtagh. Nasuada felt the sting of true love for Murtagh; Eragon felt a sibling's love. But there was a major difference between them. Eragon felt no faith in Murtagh while Nasuada still did.
Eragon said after a long pause, "Anyway, all I need is a cheap disuse to get in and out. If we do it at night, landing in the courtyard, no one will see the differences between Saphira and Thorn. Anyone whom gets to close can be easily silenced. We'll have a small window; for the moon shines bright this whole week. Our only hope is a half an hour after the sun sets. Many clouds gather then. They may clear later; I think three hours at least to clear. After that, even dim eyes of soldiers under too much beer will no be so easily fooled. Two nights from now seems the most promising." Nasuada thought for a moment. It was a well conceived plan, but it was also very risky.
"How do you know this?"
"The elves are great weather predictors. I have merely learned their ways."
"Two nights? I thought you want Roran to come."
"I do; but we cannot risk too late in the week. I have little assurance they shall not return near then. Besides, if Roran is to recover…" he spoke no more. For he had said enough. Besides, he knew if he said anymore, he would burst into tears.
"Very well, Shadeslayer. Two nights."
Soon the air was filled with a familiar thud of wings and a deep metallic roar. Ladies and lords gathered around the gardens; jostling for a better view of the giant sapphire dragon who was touching down in the center of the clearing in the garden. She had been following them from the sky and had already been completely filled in. Swirling wind stirred up weak flowers; sending them into the sky. Soon the clearing was under a thin sheet of blue wings. Eragon went to her with a great smile on his face. Many flowers surrounded her, sharply contrasting her beautiful blue scales. They shone back the flower's reflections, creating a kaleidoscope of color. Nobles surrounded her, though keeping their distance.
Saphira gave a grin and yawned, long, pearly tear showing strongly; making the nobles jump back a bit. Eragon suppressed a laugh. Here she was giving a submissive gesture and the nobles were terrified. Saphira held back a laugh too. Waves of jerky motion went down her as she silently giggled.
Nice to see you, little one. Saphira said, still giggling.
You too. Eragon answered.
I thought we could go for a fly before lunch. Though what she said wasn't sad, there was a look in her eyes which spoke of a sad emotion. He frowned and climbed into the saddle. Saphira started to move as he strapped his legs in. Soon they were out of the view of the nosey nobles.
What's wrong?
Nothing. I was just thinking. What if the betrothed one dies? He and you are such the likeness of the other. That would mean I could loose you just as easily. What if something goes wrong? Eragon noticed the great sorrow in her words.
Let us not talk of such things. I want to enjoy this. I can't go long on the ground without being reminded of Roran's state.
You have cried enough. I shall show you a good time.
Suddenly, she rose up, high in the sky. Some light cirrus clouds wisped swirled around with the beat of her wings. They blended with the sky, as the clouds lightened them. Eragon felt as if he was simply floating in the sky, the golden rays streaking through the clouds to keep him just warm enough.
Saphira angled her body down so Eragon could see the lands of Surda. Bellow, everything was laid out before him like a perfect model of the world he knew. With all the snowy white, rich vanilla, butterscotch, metallic gold, sunset orange, candy apple red, light pink, crystalline purple, lilac, ocean indigo, radiant royal blue, crystal clear blue, Caribbean aqua, marvelous sea foam green, deep evergreen, charcoal black, and sleek silver, Aberon and the surrounding area were a sight to see.
To one end lay endless oceans. This was a complete mystery to him. Who knew what lay beyond the confines of the Alagasian peninsula? To the other, the land Eragon had lived and grew on. The long roads, snaking in and out of Aberon, kicking fine dust from them into the air with each gust, were all too familiar; as were the places they lead to. Every inch Alagaesia was his home.
From the cliffs being battered by waves of aqua off the Spine on the western shores, to Du Weldvarden's endless mixed forest chatter, to Lake Leona's crystalline shores, to the wind in the grass of Surda's prairies, to valleys of sheer green hidden by the massive Beors, and finally to the ever churning sands of the Hadarac Desert, Alagaesia was a beautiful place to live. Full of enough diversity in landscape to fit the need of the wild people that lived on its soils. And Eragon felt like he was meant to forever defend such a beautiful place.
Light turbulence brought his mind back from the thousands of scenes he'd seen. Ice crystals just finished covering his eyelashes when suddenly Saphira's wings stopped. Her body began to drop into the wild kaleidoscope of colors bellow. Adrenaline rushed through Eragon's veins as she dove, making him feel incredibly alive. As they near the ground, Eragon found himself in a fit of thrilled laughing.
He forgot every problem he'd ever faced or were to come in that moment. Katrina, the Ra'zac, Murtagh, Galbatorix, Roran's condition, none existed in that moment. All that existed was Rider and dragon.
Saphira's wings snapped open and caught the air currents suddenly, right before they hit the ground. They lunged forward as her tail skimmed the ground. With each effortless beat her wings made, they rose ten feet. One beat. Two beats. Five beat. Ten beats. Eighteen beats. Finally, Saphira froze. Hovering in mid air, she began to tug on his consciousness.
Knowing what she had planed, or rather not actually, Eragon eagerly let go. He felt his mind snap into hers as she lunged forward. He felt no cold, no fear or nausea, as she spiraled back down, piercing the air like a dart. Soon, he could no longer see Aberon, but only ocean. He found himself once gain laugh is they dove in and out of the crystal clear waters. Each time they did, the only thing he didn't like was getting a mouthful of salt. But everything was so vivid, the aqua waters so amazing, he did not mind.
They plunged beneath the waves again not as two separate individuals, but one. Eragon was shocked at how sensitive her scales were. He felt like he could count each grain of salt which touched their flank. Bellow, he could see every groove in the corral with exquisite detail. Bright, tropical fish dashed in and out of it as they saw their giant shadow come over them. Lurking in the far distance, they could see a shark, waiting for its next meal. Ten feet away was a sheer drop off, falling into sheer blackness of the murky depths.
Like a giant sea serpent, they plunged out of the crystalline waters to see several nobles crowding the shore. Some screamed as the vivid blue dragon launched herself into the air. Others screamed at the water chasing their feet, not the dragon. A few just smiled or laughed at the other foolish nobles. Only one just stood there, unreadable expression on his face. Shrouded in black, no one could make him out. Eragon felt uneasy as he disappeared behind them.
But soon, he was refocused on their fight. Eragon could feel every strain of their wings, every shift in their tail. But, slowly at first then faster and faster, it began to fade. Eragon strained to keep their connection, but to no avail. Despite his protests, he soon was back in his own skin. He shivered as the chill of the wind stole his breath. It was amazing how much warmer dragons were then humans. He had not been cold at all before, but now he felt like he had so long ago, trapped in the mountain with Saphira on the rampage.
Suddenly, like a wild fire, he felt a deep seated nausea. Roran! How could he have forgotten? His own cousin…he was in trouble! Maybe he had already died while he was busy having fun! He felt dirty, discussing. Without warning, he lost that morning's breakfast all over Saphira's side. She groaned.
Now I have to wash that off. Thank you. She said smugly. When he didn't laugh and she saw him crying, she shuddered. I'm sorry, Eragon. I don't really mind. I can wash it off later. Don't cry.
Eragon raised his brow at her, realizing she thought he was mad at her. It's not you. I just remembered Roran. I just felt terrible about having fun while he's DYING! He bit his lip.
Well, let's go visit him. But first, do you mind? She asked as she froze over the deep blue waters of the off-shore areas.
Why not? He said just before she plunged into the icy waters. All it was was a quick in and out to wash up, but Eragon still completely lost his breath as his body hit the waters. But all he could think of was Roran. He had to see him soon!
Sensing his urgency, Saphira sped back towards Aberon, wings straining to reach it as fast as possible. It didn't take long before the sun and winds dried Eragon. But it had all taken its toll. The salt water left his clothes bleached, his skin sticky, and his hair frizzed out by the sun and salt. He tried to straighten, but to no avail. Soon they were at their destination.
He jump off Saphira and began racing down the corridors to his room. Eragon flushed as a passing group of lords and ladies snickered. at his salt crusted cheeks, frizzled hair, and uneven colored clothes.
"Shadeslayer." They gawked sarcastically. Amidst their group was the same man from earlier. Eragon wondered for a brief moment who…or what…he was.
But he set his mind back to Roran and soon he could see the dark door which held Roran behind it. He quickly opened the door to see a group of about ten healers around him. Among them were Arya, Trianna, Angela, and six other people he was sure he'd seen before. One he'd never seen before, but he thought nothing of it. They all swiveled around to gaze upon him. The room was dark and smelled strongly of spice and some other odor he couldn't put his finger on. But it smelled terrible. Four torches attempted to light the large room but to no avail. They broke a small bit of darkness only, allowing Eragon to see strung up flowers and herbs. Angela gave an impatient look and the others returned to what they were doing.
Then she sighed, got up, and walked to over Eragon. "As I told Katrina, we need our space. Do not worry about him. These things take time."
"I want to see him."
Angela sighed. "You won't want to once you have. I must return to work. Leave. You let the light in. It is best to have darkness for his condition."
"I want to see him." Eragon replied, stubbornly.
"…Come with me." She said as she turned to then door. Eragon gave a quick look of confusion to Arya, who shrugged then went back to working. Then he shrugged and followed. Quickly he caught up with the wily old witch. She smiled when she saw him, a sad but genuine smile.
"Your cousin is in bad shape…" she began, "he has a large amount of internal bleeding, which is causing his brain to swell. If it gets too large, it may just crack his skull or impair his ability to do certain things. You'd better hope it's the latter, because he'll die if it's the other one. Even if we get him back to normal, there is no guarantee he won't end up with permanent mental damage. If we had caught the bleeding early on…well should just deal with what we have."
Then she just left him with a shocked look on his face. She went back into the room. But when Eragon tried to follow, he found it was locked. He turned to leave, but a matter of the utmost importance came to his attention. He was hungry. It wasn't lunch time yet, so he decided to go see Saphira and then go freshen up.
It didn't take long before he and Saphira were together again. She sat in a makeshift dragon barn-for the real on had yet to be built. He found her fast asleep, but made no attempt to wake her. Instead, he climbed onto her shoulders, stroking her scaly neck. He found himself softly cooing a song, rather a song made out of a prophecy, he'd learned long ago,
When green fire meets sky,
The broken dragon turns to fly,
Behind his rider shall die.
Sweet lizard, do not weep,
For Rider was born to be a sheep
And your life you shall ever keep.
Forevermore
Evermore
Forevermore
As Eragon finished the tune, he had the strangest feeling. Like they were being watched. Scurried. He pulled out the old dwarven necklace and stuck in on. Strangely, it didn't get hot or anything. He waited for a long moment. Still, nothing.
As quick as it had came, the feeling faded. Eragon waited apprehensively. Suddenly, a bell chimed. Eragon smiled. He got up slowly and left for lunch.
Let me clearify something for my readers. I do not hate any of the Eragon charactors. This includes Katrina, Arya, and Trianna. But I do dispise when charactor are too perfect. So, in all the fics I own, I prize on fixed this problem of having no problems. Conflicts, like Katrina hating Saphira, do help. As you can see in this chapter, I fix Eragon's perfection. He gets embrassed because he looks bad.
