A stare down commenced between Eragon and the group. Neither willing to make the first move. It was too difficult to tell if either was friend or foe. The chaos surrounding them all was clouding their trust in each other. Rya stared into the face of her uncle, barely recognising who she saw in those eyes. A rift had made its way between them all. The silence that hung damp in the air seemed to be further elongated by the building tension, an almost permeable tension.
Eragon was the first to speak. 'Arya. What's wrong with Arya?'
Nobody answered. Rya suddenly felt incriminated for some strange reason. As though everything that was happening was her fault. She continued to stare at Eragon, something didn't seem right, even given the inexplicable circumstances they were under. The atmosphere of the situation seemed to grow suddenly warmer, as though both groups were about to attack each other. Rya's eyes unintentionally flickered upwards.
The sky blinked! Or was that just my mind. I could have sworn-
'WHAT'S WRONG WITH HER?' Eragon bellowed.
'Wed don't know Eragon,' Du Ebrithil replied, 'we do not understand much of what is happening around us but-'
'Why is she unconscious?' the blue rider violently inquired.
This time it was Rya who responded, 'Eragon, what happened with Arya is not simple to explain, it will be better for us to find the palace then piece together everything we know.'
'You lie,' was all he said through gritted teeth, whilst taking up an offensive position with his sword.
'Eragon, what has gotten into you?' Du Dröttningu queried.
'I don't know, but something seems wrong with all of you. And I don't trust you right now,' he responded.
Immediately he charged at the group and would have hacked them all apart if not for Du Ebrithil. Unsheathing his retractable blades, he blocked two blows from Brisingr before sheathing one blade and dealing a direct blow to the rider's stomach, followed by a long series of fast but still relatively hard punches to his chest. Eragon shoved Du Ebrithil back but not fast enough, as Du Ebrithil had pecked his temple with his right hand. Eragon staggered backwards and Du Ebrithil dashed towards him to completely make him pass out. Rya could see blood pouring from Eragon's mouth and nose, feeling pity for the confused rider. Du Ebrithil jumped whilst spinning in the air to kick Eragon in the head and would have been successful if not for Du Dröttningu grappling him to the ground. Du Dröttningu immediately stood up and cast a spell on Eragon, the same as was done on Arya.
'Was that really necessary dear?' Du Dröttningu asked.
'Yes. Was your sudden action necessary?' Du Ebrithil replied.
'Don't make me answer that.'
Blodhgarm looked at the sleeping elf in his arms and then at Eragon. What had happened to both of them? One had lost their memories of the last two centuries and the other was willing to attack his associates without any warning or apparent reason.
Rya, once again, involuntarily looked back up at the sky.
It blinked again! I'm sure I saw it correctly. It blinked. That means… it's alive, she thought dreading the thought of whatever it was. Rya suddenly felt a pang of exhaustion. 'Let's get moving' was all she heard before passing out.
He rolled in agony as he experienced a burning flame ignite within him and completely corrode through every part of his body. He rolled to his right, felt more pain than before, and then rolled to his left. Still pain. A light of some sort was burning near his head. Somewhere to his right. Four people sat around it exchanging grim words with each other. His head felt numb but his body certainly didn't. The rider wished he could just pass out then and there. How much it would have eased the pain. He thought about how he ended up here. The last thing he remembered was battling another rider. Oathbreaker. Lightning had struck his body flinging bits of flesh and a few limbs all over the place. He remembered also seeing a vision of a forest. But not through his own eyes, as though they were someone else's. He remembered his dragon being injured by a larger blue dragon. Random clusters of memories rushed through his head as though he remembered everything he had experienced whilst being unconscious.
He tried to sit up but could not feel his legs. He looked to his right again. His vision had cleared slightly. Murtagh made out four hooded figures holding bowls, filled with a kind of soup. All of them drank till their bowls were empty and then continued to clean the insides with their mouths. Whoever these people were they hadn't eaten or drank in quite a while. Murtagh tried to clear his mind again but still he saw images of a forest and a red eye. He looked over to his left. There, chained to a large metal post lay Thorn. His beloved dragon. Murtagh tried to reach out to Thorn but realised he wasn't awake. Murtagh's ears slowly cleared away an eerie sound he hadn't realised and he could now hear the conversation of the hooded people.
'Why do we need to feed him so much? He's not even awake,' one complained.
'Because the master has ordered us to do so. We need him alive, or else the master cannot carry out his final mission. He needs the blue rider alive and this one here is linked with the other. If he dies so does the other.'
'Fine, but you're feeding him tonight.'
Murtagh's head span. Was this blue rider Eragon or Oathbreaker? He prayed it was the former.
A man walked over to Murtagh with a bowl in one hand and a large hunk of meat in the other.
'So, you're finally awake. I guess we don't need to feed you anymore. You can eat yourself.'
He placed the bowl near Murtagh's foot before walking over to thorn and shoving the meat into the dragon's mouth.
Murtagh managed to gather enough energy to sit up. He was chained to a post. Not good. Looking around he saw they were in a small cave with Thorn by the entrance. The red rider suddenly shivered from the cold. He picked up the bowl and peered inside. Nothing appealing. A random assortment of vegetables thrown into some heated water. Murtagh had no other choice. His stomach ached from hunger so he quickly drank the contents of the bowl and then continued to lick it clean. He now realised why the other hooded man had done the same.
Murtagh leaned of the post after tossing the empty bowl to the side. Another hooded man walked towards him. Murtagh braced himself. The man came and knelt in front of him.
'Are you ok? You were in quite a bad state when we found you,' came the voice of a woman.
'I'm fi-' he began but was cut off.
Another hooded figure spoke up between his reply. 'Do NOT speak to the prisoner!' he bellowed.
Murtagh suddenly recalled Eragon. His voice sounded exactly the same.
'I was just asking if he needed any help. You can see he's injured,' she retorted.
'Who are you people?' Murtagh asked.
'Now that, I can't tell you,' the woman said.
'I can,' the man with Eragon's voice replied. 'We are servants of the true leader of the riders. The brother of Vrael.'
Murtagh seemed confused. 'I didn't know he had any brothers. Who are you? Eragon?'
The man sighed before taking off his hood. Murtagh choked on his own breath when he saw the man's face. Impossible…
He was lying in a forest. A dark forest. A clearing now that he stood up up and looked around, an opening in the trees. Around him stood trees taller than he could see the tops of.
A flicker of movement caught his attention from behind a few bushes. As dark as it was, he could see quite clearly. The sky was a beautiful starry dark blue. The moon shone in its fullest form bathing the clearing in a silver glow. Eragon examined the darkness of the forest.
Why is my hair standing on end?
'Who goes there?' he called. He repeated his question twice more.
After a while he convinced himself that there was no one in hiding in the cover of darkness. Eragon walked over to a tree and leant against it, allowing his legs to give way and sitting against the faded bark. He hadn't felt so peaceful in a long time, ever since… the eye. What had happened to it? Now that he thought about it, what had happened? Where was he?
A sinister chuckle emerged from the opposite end of the clearing. Eragon jumped up and braced himself. Out from the shadows came a tall, light brown man clothed completely in black. His nose was short and sharp, with a long mark running from one side of it to the other. His eyes were a dark brown, almost as black as his clothes.
'Tell me who you are,' Eragon demanded.
'Well, many people call us several things. You may know the term necromancer.'
Eragon cringed from surprised. 'No, impossible. Du Ebrithil exterminated you all. You're extinct. How can you be necromancers?'
'Ah, I see you don't realise why we were created, or how. You see necromancers are a race created from the darkness of the earth. We are born to balance the scales of the earth. The world is perfectly balanced but when that precise balance is tipped, we are created. You created us. You gave birth to us. I see you are confused,' the necromancer smiled.
'The world is divided into good and bad, light and dark if you will. You caused an imbalance by testing fate. You travelled back to Alagaësia. Now the chaos that is taking place around you is in order to rebalance that. You see, necromancers have been gifted with immense power. It cannot be measured. We can create illusions that solidify to become real. We can control the hearts of humans. We can even tear down space and time, as you have seen, we shuffled you backwards in time several times, but still you were not willing to give up on your journey.'
'What journey?' Eragon asked.
The necromancer continued, 'You set out on a task to bring order and peace to this realm, however, the balance is perfect everywhere else. Only Alagaësia has suffered at the hands of this imbalance, ever since you murdered the king Galbatorix. Every other realm in the world had just leaders that balanced the injustice of Galbatorix, but you, you had to go and murder him. That caused the world to enter a state of chaos. That chaos built and slowly increased until you had eventually broken the final law of the structure of The Diamond.'
A bead of sweat trickled down the side of Eragon's face. Had he really caused more destruction by ending the life of the dark king? Had he really done more evil than good?
'You broke the structure of The Diamond. The Diamond states that everyone and everything is bound by fate. You went and damaged that fine line. You caused the future to crash and rebuilt a completely different timeline. This damaged structure of the timeline has also caused the dragons to go out of existence except by the will of two people. You and that silly girl Rya. You have also caused the name of the ancient language to change. Arya has also lost many memories and this is all because of you.'
Eragon could not believe it. By not controlling himself he had jeopardised the entire existence of time itself. He could feel a distant beat of his heart while his mind became completely numb.
'But, you're supposed to be the ones to rebalance that scale. Why can't you do it now?'
'Well, interesting question that. We necromancers have lost our initial intentions. Only a few from our order remain willing to rebalance the world, but our rage at the world is a deep one. The majority of us feel as though we have been abandoned, and so, wish to remain in this world, by causing more destruction. We would be able to if not for your will and the will of that girl. You see, we all wanted this to happen. And we now adore you, but require you to die. If you die, then we continue to exist indefinitely. But the problem is, your conscience is too strong to take over by force, so I have come here with a proposition. Join our order, restore balance and we will all be able to continue living in this world without disrupting The Diamond. Think about it, we will be able to coexist peacefully without causing such heartache and ruin. Think of all the villagers you have been trying to protect. How many of them will die if The Diamond remains angry? Take my hand, join our order, and bring peace to the world. If you don't, you're as evil as, or worse than Galbatorix. You don't want to be like that do you?'
Eragon's mind burned from all this new information.
Am I really the one to blame for all of this? The deaths of the elves? The existence of Oathbreaker? The destruction of time? How much more evil could I become?
A tear trickled down the edge of his jaw. It seemed to take forever to land. Every last joy he had experienced seemed to be sucked out if him. All he could think about was the negative aspects of the world. All he did was ask himself one question, over and over.
What have I done? What have I done? What have I done?
'Eragon, listen, there is no need to cry. Just take my hand, and I will show you the truth and how we can resolve all of this. All you need to do is take my hand.'
Eragon fell to his knees before steeling himself. He stood up still crying. He lifted his hand, it shook aggressively but he knew what had to be done… he had to undo whatever he had done.