As I woke that morning, I remembered the conversation from last night… cursing myself I sat up and moved over towards the edge of Saphiras wing and moved into the dawn's rays of light.
The sun was just rising and already everyone else was awake.
So peaceful the fire had been extinguished with dirt and the campsite destroyed, so no trace would be left. Brom was packing Snowfire and my own horse… that I had yet to name.
Dahuk was packed and ready to move, sitting against Effigas foreleg with Effigas neck curled around to see the proceedings of the boring and slow moving camp. Arya was some few paces away from where the camps clearing would have ended… before it had been destroyed, sitting down facing the sun rising with the green dragon on her shoulders, also watching the suns welcoming rays.
As I took my first step, towards what looked like the remains of a morning meal, a heap of leather straps were thrown into my arms. "Saddle Saphira then you can have some of that." Brom said hastily.
So I took to saddling Saphira with the leather harness that Dahuk had made, 'Saphira, I think I have made a little bit of a mess.' I observed to Saphira, while showing her the memory of last night…
'I do not think it is that bad little one… maybe a little too friendly but otherwise I see no reason to object. She does not seem shaken to much, maybe even calmer… I suspect she is just mourning. Dahuk did while you were unconscious.' Saphira said. Sending me waves of comfort and anticipation from our mental link. 'Now break your fast. Then ride with me!'
So my day was. Once I had eaten I was quickly rushed off to Saphira and strapped in by a hasty Brom, a contemplating Dahuk and a somewhat amused Arya, I suspected more at Brom than me. I ride Saphira for the whole day aware of the three people riding at a now overly long pace.
Once night fell it was a long meal with no conversation, each one of the three had contemplating faces, so I left it at that. Once I had finished the evening meal I retreated to Saphira and slept.
… …I hesitate with the pen again … again another piece of the stuff blotched … … I do not entirely know why I write all this down to paper…could I not just set the memories in some sort of gem…something so I would not have the write it. … I have the memories of those people who died… sometimes I winder if it is at all my memories. Is it that my head is so full with thousands of years of knowledge that I do not know which is mine… how long have I truly lived… long before Galabortorix's reign? Or even before Sept? Or was I that young foolhardy farmer… I think I can rule out being Arya, safely, was I Brom? That old storyteller? I remember a time after even now… is that possible? I cannot rule it out.
Do I sort through all these memories just so my love will come to guide me to a bed with her voice and arms reassuring me. Telling me whom I am… letting me know that another day has passed… I do not know any more. Sometimes I need to remind myself who my love is… I think she is the only reason I know that I was once that foolhardy farm boy.
So I write down my own memories. With what I deem is necessary from others to help someone know why I did all of what I did… and why people let me do what did. As such I cannot truly say what was intended for me only and what may be shared with the world. Even if I can see all they ever have.
I wonder how long the land has been like this is it free? After all we went through?
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okay i know this is probabaly one of the shortest chapters in history but all i actually wanted from this chapter is the second half...
the part where he "hesistates" with the pen. i know if anyone has ever read the farseer trilogy they will recognize what i am doing but as i said i love Fitz and Nighteyes. go die "Lord Golden" give me my fool.
oh well i hope you actually understand it... and now the other chapters as well... i guess this means i can't kill eragon now.
Reviews PLEASE :)