This is the last drabble for you here, and after that, it's time for some plot! :)
As I'm sure you can tell, this one is from Elva's POV. It's probably not very like her, but I want to show her sarcastic side we all know, her confusion, and her hate. She is a very interesting character... maybe I'll do some more of her later on/ in a different fanfic...
Huge thanks to the two reviewers; SimplySupreme (thanks for the trademarked lecture, no, seriously, no sarcasm! very sensible... XD )
Restrained . Freedom - thank you for the review, and as I replied, I have taken your advice and changed the story (definitely for the better, now!)
Hope you all enjoy! Two or more reviews for next chappy please?
The Meepsta :) :)
I look back to that day, a year in the past. The day our 'Dear Shadeslayer' finally met his fate. How dreadfully unfortunate it was.
I can't say I was pleased or dismayed by his death, because I really didn't know. Or care. After all, he was the one to curse me for the whole of my wretched existence, but he could have made things right again if I wanted him to.
If he wanted to.
But Saphira was my only friend, my only comfort. I have never had any friendly intrest in those squabbling lords and ladies, or whatever pointless title they may have posessed. They want me only for my 'gift', my 'abnormality', and I loathe them for it.
Saphira was the only creature I feel pity for here. She did, with her dragon-mark on my brow, at least try to make my life better than what her Rider gave to me. I felt her pain, her anguish, the way Eragon's death seemed to swallow her existence and make living a crime. I comforted her, I said the words that seemed right, but she ignored me.
She still ignores me. She has ignored everybody that tries to approach her for the last year.
Where is her mind now?