The Festival Begins
Tristan woke up instantly when the first rays of light touched his face. He needed no other queue than this, and he put on a clean white shirt and a pair of leather leggings that he used for hunting but had now brushed clean from the dirt and sweat. On top he wore his leather boots that shone in the morning light and looked proudly at his outfit. He run a hand through his hair and realised that indeed it was too long.
Following his mother's advice, he headed to the water basin and splashed his face with cold water. He got his hunting knife out and started cutting long strands of hair. After he was finished he dipped his head inside the cold water for a few seconds before he came out, to take a deep breath of air, feeling renewed and energised.
I am ready, he thought to himself.
…
Tristan was waiting for his friends at the top of one of the tradesman buildings in the centre of the village. Below him, he could see the tents and make-shift tables that had been set up late last night to accommodate the vast number of elves, magicians, soldiers and traders from all around Alagaesia. He could already see a table sprawled with some sort of gems and jewels and he knew that this would make his sister and mother happy.
He continued watching as the leaders of the village came out to greet the dragon egg carriers and as the time passed more people started gathering around the square and the market. He heard light footsteps behind him and he turned around and threw a rock at the noise's direction.
Grion stumbled but didn't fall and Buster behind him crouched.
"Tskk .. You guys are late… But good dodge!" Tristan said as he looked at the sun above him. Midday was quickly approaching.
"It's not my fault" Buster said as he tried to disentangle himself from something which seemed to hung around his throat. Tristan went to examine it more closely.
"Is that a red string?" he asked and rose his eyebrows. Grion started laughing.
Buster sighed, annoyed.
"It's apparently the new fashion in the big cities and my mom insisted…" he said as Tristan tried to unknot the thick red string.
"It looks like what our goat wears, actually. It suits you" Tristan commented and Buster shot him murderous glances.
Tristan raised his hands in the air as he threw the red material on the ground.
"I am quite surprised you didn't bring Daisy here …" Grion said and chuckled. Tristan smiled just as his friends managed to settle on some space near him.
"I would have, but I decided to give her a break from all the dragon business. You know, the excitement and all would not be good for her health "he replied and laid down on his belly with his elbows propped up, to see what was going on down below.
They had picked this place because it offered the best view of the events that would occur in the Brasungr ceremony and they didn't want to miss even a single part.
More people were gathering around the square, excitement evident in their every movement. An array of wooden tables was set up in the middle of the square, where the eggs would be presented one by one to the people of Arhan. One of the elves was discussing something with one of Arhan's leaders, pointing at a big list in front of him, no doubt the list with the names that had to be called.
Slowly one by one each egg was laid on top of the tables inside a protective material. Tristan noticed that there were eggs of all colour and shape present, some bigger, some smaller. Legend had it, that whatever the colour of the egg was, the dragon being harboured inside would bear the same markings, complexion and shades.
Buster leaned at the edge of the roof to get a better view of the proceedings and noticed the representatives from each race, four of them that had formed a square around the remaining 8 eggs in a protective manner.
More soldiers had circled their periphery, their armours glinting in the morning sun as well as magicians who wore peculiar clothes and robes. Some of them had intricate designs around their faces and had their eyes closed, obviously concentrating on something.
"See the magicians on the right? They are creating wards to protect the eggs and trying to quickly skim the thoughts of everyone around to make sure we are not posing any danger to the eggs" Tristan commented, pointing to where the figures in the robes where.
"So they know everything I am thinking about?" Buster said, and his cheeks flushed.
"What exactly have you been thinking about?" Tristan asked and rose his eyebrows. Grion chuckled at the back.
"They won't read all your thoughts. There are too many of us to do that. They are only scanning in case they find any potential threats" Grion explained to the young boy.
Tristan looked through the mass of soldiers and magicians, trying to recognise any famous faces but Buster spotted one before he did.
"Is that Roran, Eragon's cousin?" he bellowed and almost lost his footing and fell from the rooftop. Tristan put a protective arm in front of him and looked at where his friend was pointing.
Indeed, just beside the tent, a tall figure stood, with shaggy brown curls and an untrimmed beard. The person could have been anyone but for the large hammer he carried strapped across his back.
"Not just Roran. He is Roran Stronghammer" Grion said and let out a big whistle. He continued to explain to Buster, Roran's feats during the Vardens' uprising against Galbatorix.
As impressive as seeing Roran was, Tristan still longed to see Eragon. In the last few years he had expected the dragon rider to be present but instead only his representatives were. He knew very well that Eragon could not be present in all places at the same time, despite his legendary abilities, and after the fall of Galbatorix the empire had needed him and the leaders of the races to complete many tasks, whether that was recruiting new riders, healing the sick, rebuilding the city structures or fighting off impending dangers.
He scanned the crowd in order to see if there was anyone else he recognised from the stories and legends but nothing. . .
Tristan sighed disappointed and went to study the elves as they had always fascinated them. There were three of them today, as they were brushing the eggs with theirs hands and cloths. Their limbs seemed to be moving quickly but their faces were expressionless. If he didn't know any better he would have guessed they were sleep walking or something. He could not understand how they looked so cold, so distant… Like statues carved from stone, looking both young and old, both wise and thoughtless. Their ears were pointed, their skin pale, their body lean. The elf representative and dragon rider that circled the eggs in the square, seemed a bit more earnest, if he could be described as that, almost more humanoid.
He shifted his attention to the dwarf dragon rider who had a hammer very similar to Roran's strapped across his back and broad shoulders almost the length of a regular height human. He was wearing a heavy armour and a thick dark red beard reached his knees.
The human dragon rider was a woman with dark brown, bushy hair and a serious expression fixed upon her face. She also had broad shoulders and she was dressed in heavy armour with a sword hanging on her shoulder that glittered whenever she moved.
Tristan went to examine the last of the circle but then Buster let out a shout.
"Is that an Urgal?" he bellowed pointing at the last dragon rider. Some of the people who had gathered in the square raised their heads up at their direction including the Urgal.
Grion shot Buster a silencing gaze but Tristan stood still. The Urgal gave them a few long looks, its horns protruding from just under his ears, his greyish skin a great contrast to his yellowish eyes. His head was clean shaved with no visible hairs and he was dressed in leather armour. Long, razor sharp nails protruded from his hands and even though legend had it that they had seven toes just like the dwarves the tall boots he wore gave Tristan no clear answer. The Urgal opened slightly his mouth showing the array of teeth he bore, sharp and long like his nails but whereas his nails curved on the inside like talons his teeth were pointy. He did not appear to be carrying any weapons compared to the other dragon riders but then again he did not need any. He easily stood at just under eight feet tall, the tallest of the crowd and the deadliest as well, Tristan did not doubt.
Once the people from below had stopped staring at them he turned to look at Buster.
"He is not just an Urgal but a Kull, the strongest and fastest of the Urgal" he explained.
Buster looked baffled by that.
"But I thought Urgals did not become dragon riders" he whispered, still staring at the towering figure in the town centre.
"Have you not been to any previous ceremonies? Have you not read any books?" Grion asked and crossed his hands over his chest.
Buster shook his head apologetically.
"This is my first year in the Brasungr ceremony. My mother did not allow me to come to it in previous years because she said it was dangerous" he said and sulked in the corner.
"Your mom ought to give you a bit more credit" Tristan said as he picked up the red string and smiled, throwing it at Buster's direction.
Buster dodged and then looked at the dragon riders again, slightly perplexed.
"But if the dragon riders are here then where are their dragons?" he asked.
Grion smiled secretly and started to say something but Tristan raised his hand in the air and shushed him.
The boys looked down at the small stage which had been set up in front of the eggs. Dead silence lingered and all the people in the square including the tradesmen and soldiers had their attention fixed on the stage. The sun was low in the horizon and it was casting dramatic shadows.
One of Arhan's leaders walked on the stage and cleared his voice, the noise echoing loudly around the silent village.
"For many years the races in Alagaesia had been under Galbatorix's reign. War plagued the lands and death and illness followed. Young men were taken from their families to join his army and many did not return. Galbatorix was a tyrant, a terrible and twisted man that had used ancient magic to bind a dragon to him when his previous one had died in an accident. Some of the races tried to resist, the elves, the dwarves and the Varden had formed alliances to stop his terrible rule but nothing worked"
The leader paused, to swallow, the noise once again loud.
"That was until one dragon egg was stolen from the tyrant and transferred by magic in the mountains known as the Spine. A young boy then, Eragon from the land of Carvahall, happened upon the egg and brought it back to his own home. This was the beginning of the end for Galbatorix as Eragon grew to be a dragon rider and with the help and unison of all races, the Elves, the Urgals, the dwarves and the Werecats he overthrew the tyrant and brought peace to this land. In the last twenty years the empire of Alagaesia has prospered like no other time, known by word or scroll. The races live in unison with each other and the riders protect land and water" he said and bowed down to let an elf walk to the stage with an air of dignity and grace.
"Before this ceremony begins I have to inform every one of you about the rules. Names will be called from the eldest to the youngest, from males to females. Every person will have the chance to touch the eggs twice, once today and once tomorrow to avoid the chances of mistakes being made and to put everyone's doubts at ease. Once a name is called you can either reject the offer or accept it and walk to the stage to touch the dragon eggs. You are only allowed to touch each egg once and then move to the next. You cannot linger more than a minute on each egg. If the eggs do not crack, you will leave the stage in the same manner you walked on it. You are not by any means allowed to damage the eggs and if weapons are found in you possession you will be restrained and questioned. Only one person is allowed to walk on the stage at a time and no family members or friends are to be included. Insults or cheers from the crowd are to be kept to a minimum, otherwise the people responsible will be removed" the elf finished in a very serious tone and walked down the stage, as elegantly as he had entered it.
Silence still lingered amongst the people, although there was the occasional cough or snort.
The dwarven dragon rider that Tristan had noticed before, walked onto the stage - his height not surpassing the humans even with the slight elevation -.
He cleared his throat, once, twice in a very loud manner and drums started playing in the background which made the hairs on Tristan's arm rise and he felt the vibration reach his chest.
The rider had a deep, baronet tone and with this he began to sing:
"15 dragon eggs are left
only one rider will be elect
10 are transferred every year
Young riders do not fear
Participation is always dear
Let the fires burn,
Let the winds descend,
Hear the mighty growl,
More than just a man,
Brasungr festival has begun!"
As the dwarf finished the song, the vibrations increased instead of decreasing and large shadows overcast the crowd. Tristan looked up just as a large talon missed his head by inches.
Buster let out a tiny whimper and Tristan watched astounded as four dragons flew above them, with their giant wings covering the light of the sun. The dragons did not make any sound but Tristan could feel the force of the wind as their wings rose up and down.
He felt the warmth before he saw it and the dragons let out jets of flames against each other that connected in the middle like a blazing sun, much more intense than the one in the background that was close to setting.
Everyone gazed, dazed until all too quickly the dragons stopped and flew away in opposite directions. The North, the South, the West and the East.
The drums started playing again, but in a less intense beat than before and another of Arhan's leaders stood at the stage with a huge scroll in his hand. As the elf had said before, the names were called from the eldest to the youngest, from males to females.
The first name was called and a man of forty years of age went to the stage to touch the eggs. Nothing happened and the next man was called and the next and the next.
Tristan watched patiently as everyone took their turns and he awaited his own. The sun had almost set when Grion's name was called and the boy quickly jumped from the building to walk to the stage. Tristan managed a "good luck" before his friend disappeared and he felt his palms sweat as his own turn was approaching.
After Grion a few more boys were called to the stage but as had happened with everyone else before him, the eggs did not crack. Tristan gave a quick peer to Buster as he stood, watching everyone before him, with a concentrated expression on his face.
Just then Tristan heard his own name, clear and loud and he felt his heart swell. He got up to walk to the stage but suddenly his knees felt weak. He angrily shook his head and mentally slapped himself which helped him proceed.
His footsteps felt loud against his ears as he walked on the stage.
His gaze fell upon the first egg, a dark brown, scaly thing. He put his hands on the egg's surface and waited but nothing happened and he went to the next one.
This egg was greyish brown, a bit larger than the rest of the eggs and when Tristan put his hands on top of it nothing happened.
He walked to the next one and the one after that, and then the next one and the one after but nothing was happening and he was beginning to despair until he reached the last two.
The first egg was a silvery purple and the second a silvery blue, roughly of the same size.
He placed his hand on the silvery purple and waited. In the beginning there was nothing but silence and then he felt the brush of a consciousness against his mind.
Could it be?
He waited, counting the seconds until he reached a minute and then released the egg. Its surface remained smooth and unbroken and Tristan was confused. Surely he had not imagined it…
"Last egg" an elf close to him whispered, the same one who had recited the rules and his gaze was fixed on Tristan.
Tristan swallowed and went to touch the last egg, his right hand slightly shaking as it rested on the surface. Again, there was a nudge of consciousness in his mind, he could not deny this and he almost jumped but his fingers remained on the egg.
The silvery blue egg seemed to be momentarily glowing, almost pulsing and he felt a train of thoughts in his mind, which were not his own.
"Time is up, young boy" the elf who spoke before said and Tristan reluctantly stepped away from the egg. He gazed at it, willing it to crack but nothing happened.
"You can try again tomorrow, if you feel you didn't have a fair chance" the elf said, almost kindly.
Tristan shook his head and walked away from the stage, feeling tears cloud his vision. He tried to separate the crowd in order to go through but they were stalling him and he was getting annoyed. Finally he got away from the market, the stage, the voices, the people and he started running. He felt moisture on his face but he did not care, he only kept running until he reached dark, tall trees and then continued running until his lungs felt like they were burning from the rush of the cold air. There he dropped to his knees and he started screaming from the anger, the pain, and the desperation. He heard other screams as well in the night, screams that did not match his own but he did not care to find out who's they were.
He continued screaming until his throat croaked and his eyes dried out and the moon bled.