I am back. I don't own much. Just the plot. Everything else belongs to the nearly heartless CP. He's only nearly heartless because he promised something about one of the stars of this series, Murtagh, in the fifth book.
I will be holding him to that.
Chapter One
In Brom's opinion, Selena was being a bit... obvious. She rushed around her son's room, throwing pieces of clothing into the sack, rushed around some more, and did who knows what else.
She stopped at the one thing Brom had ever given the boy. It was a small clay figure, something Brom had made for his last burthr dag. A beautiful dragon, neck arched high in the air, wings flared, and tail curled around it's front claws. It's nose pointed downards, but it's delicate, miniscule eyes looked at you with a hidden wisdom. It was an enchanted dragon, designed to protect it's owner. If Murtagh was threatened, the little creature would spring to life and rush to defend him. Selena turned.
"Why didn't it work?"
Brom sighed. "I don't know. It could have been flying to him, but was too far away, or too many doors were closed. I'm sorry," he finished.
Selena looked down. "I know. And you more than made up for it by healing him. Even though he's the son of that...beast," she finished lamely.
Brom nodded in understanding. "He is also the son of Selena," he reminded her. She looked up at him, giving a teary smile. Even in the armor she always wore, she was beautiful. Soulful blue eyes shone with love for him, and he felt like the happiest man alive. If only Saphira could see him now...
Selena picked up the clay figurine and hid it in a pocket. Then, she grabbed the sack, now full, and left the room, headed for the stables. Brom went down to his house, to check on the boy.
When he opened the door to the small cottage, he immediately saw Murtagh whip around, panic shining in his eyes. The boy was sitting on the table, torso still bare.
"W-who are you?"
Brom frowned. "The gardener. You're very lucky to be alive, you know."
The boy reached up to rub his shoulder. "What do you—" His eyes widened as he felt the scar. Brom could easily see that the boy was helpless for words.
"Morzan threw his sword. Your mother took you to me. I healed you. You woke up." All of this he said in a brisk tone, but not unkind.
Murtagh just sat back on his haunches, brought his knees to his chest and buried his face in them. Brom then went about fixing up some sort of stew for the boy.
This story will most likely be one filled with short chapters. I apologize.
For those who need it, there will be an AL (Ancient Language) translation at the bottom author's note for words that were not often used in the series (you all know what 'Waíse heill' means, right? (if you don't, it's 'be healed'))
Burthr dag: Birth day
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Falcon