Couldn't help myself. Had to start the next one straight away. Really enjoying the story at this point. I was reading through the whole of part 1 and 2 so far realising I added next to no context so I don't want to rush the plot this time.
The whole world was spinning around him. At this point he didn't know if it was just him or the actual world. All he cared about was redemption from his mistakes. Eragon's tears didn't stop. He didn't know why he had no control over his own emotions. Was he that weak? Was it this weakness over his emotions that caused him to give up everything just to be with Arya? Arya… the one elf that had made him do all this. The truth stung him harder than anything from his past battles. Why had he done all this? Or was it his fault?
No… he thought to himself. I wasn't the one that chose to go to Alagaësia. It was Arya that called me there. So why do I still feel responsible? Was killing Galbatorix that big a mistake that it caused everything else to go out of control? Am I that bad a person?
'Eragon. You must decide quickly,' the necromancer urged, 'we are running out of time. The world is tearing apart for each second we waste.'
Eragon shook the tears from his eyes before holding out his hand again, this time more firmly than the last.
I'm ready.
The necromancer reached out towards Eragon. Each second that passed felt like an eternity. Everything he felt seemed so unreal. The necromancer's hand was half an inch away from Eragon's, until a bright flash of light exploded between the two of them. Eragon felt a strong pressure in his chest. The flash of light was followed by a shockwave sending the rider hurtling through the air as a twig would. He landed on his back as a dragon roared louder than any he had heard before. The landing had knocked the wind out of him but he still tried to sit up to see what the flash was. There, bathed in complete wight light stood Oromis, wielding a long elven sword and a bow and quiver of arrows hanging from his back. Behind him stood a tall white dragon larger than Saphira. Eragon could feel the raw power emanating from the majestic being. Every second a shockwave would pulse from it. Each heartbeat was audible and seemed like an earthquake. Eragon stared in awe as the dragon and rider stood between him and the necromancer.
'Foolish elf! Where did you come from?' the necromancer screamed.
'All I will say to you is, stay away from my student, I will not allow any harm to befall him while I exist,' Oromis replied grimly.
'Get out of my way! We need him!'
Oromis braced himself for a battle without another word. The dragon also seemed ready to tear apart anything that it wanted to. He was still in awe of the dragon. It was larger than Saphira in size and was more muscular that any he had ever seen or heard of. Whose was this?
The necromancer screamed and charged at Oromis suddenly brandishing a dark sword. Oromis changed his stance slightly and parried a blow from the necromancer, before stepping to the side and letting him fall. The dragon raised its foot to stomp on the fiend but a large black orb seemed to protect him. The dragon roared and stomped again but missed its target. The necromancer rolled out of the way and dived towards Oromis. The elf swung his sword at his opponent but before any contact could be made, the evil being disintegrated into tiny black particles.
'He has fled,' Oromis stated. 'Eragon what were you thinking? How did you let him fool you into accepting his crazy ideas?'
'I don't know what overcame me ebrithil. I apologise for my actions,' Eragon simply replied. He looked over at the white dragon. He walked over to the beautiful creature and touched its scales. Immediately he felt a burst of thunder, causing him to flinch and remove his hand from the boy involuntarily.
Reaching out his mind he asked, Whose dragon are you?
I am the dragon to the rider you call Du Ebrithil. My name is Whitestorm, you possess my Eldunarí in your armour. I have been gathering energy over the last 400 years for you to use, but be warned, Whitestorm leaned closer towards Eragon, I will not serve you for any evil intent. But, I shall protect you as best I can.
'Eragon, you must wake up,' Oromis suddenly urged.
'What do you-' Eragon began to ask but was cut off by the same order.
'I SAID NOW!'
He suddenly fell back into a laid down position. He awoke to find himself in the middle of an attack. Eragon jumped up and looked around. He was at the palace along with all of his other companions. The migrants were under attack… from necromancers.
The whole camp was in chaos. Thousands of dead villagers from Alagaësia lay motionless on the floor. Hundreds of tents and people were fuel for flames to devour.
Eragon had no idea as to what to do. The first that came to his mind was to unsheathe Brisingr and let his sword do the talking, so that was what he did. Eragon hacked and slashed at one necromancer after the other, after the other. All of them disintegrated into black particles before he moved onto the next. A piercing scream of a necromancer mixed itself with the cries of humans and elves as he slashed Brisingr through the air where a necromancer had been.
He looked around for Arya or Rya. He knew he had to find them but what would he do after that? He had taken the responsibility of protecting the humans and was currently doing a pretty bad job. A voice in his head suddenly emerged which he recognised as Oromis.
Eragon, you must summon Whitestorm, and do it quickly, Oromis insisted.
How ebrithil?
Focus all your thoughts on the white dragon. It will require a lot of energy so use mine. You will not be able to see me for a few days but it is better than whatever else could happen. You need that dragon. He is the only one that can save you now. Reunite Du Ebrithil with his dragon by calling him from his Eldunarí. I will see you soon Eragon, Oromis said before fading from his mind.
Eragon started to think about Whitestorm. The huge legendary dragon.
Whitestorm, I need you, Eragon called to the Eldunarí.
I am here young one, came the reply.
Eragon continued to think hard about what he looked like, how shockwaves emerged each time he breathed. How his size and build were unmatched by any.
A sudden rush of fatigue bombarded the blue rider. He could feel his energy draining fast. Extremely fast for that matter. He could feel his mind becoming numb from strain and exhaustion so he began to call on the energy from Oromis' gem. Eragon also called upon the energy from inside Brisingr.
Lend me your power…
He could feel the circulation of power within him. He could feel what it felt like to have more power than any being in Alagaësia. He knew what true power felt like.
So this is what Galbatorix always wanted. True power…
NO ERAGON! boomed Whitestorm's thoughts, concentrate on what you are doing! Do not digress! Remember why you are here and what you need to do! Eragon! ERAGON!
Suddenly he felt his conscience become overwhelmed by a mighty force. That which he had never experienced before. The force of this new presence was crushing that of his own. He could feel his conscience suffocating against between the walls of his conscience and that of the newcomer. This new presence in his mind projected anger but seemed to still care for him. It soon left and Eragon could feel a new and more profound exhaustion take over him. He could feel a battle brewing within his own self. One side lusting for power and the other protecting him from it. Eragon cleared his mind in order to continue with the summoning of the white dragon. The strain of holding such high levels of raw energy started to show through on his body. He could feel his body tensing up and felt as though he was ready to explode.
All of a sudden he opened his eyes and exploded in a fury of yellow light.
'HELP ME!' he screamed. 'There's too much energy!'
He felt a glove lift his right hand while a bare hand clenched it. Eragon felt the pressure on his body ease slowly as another soul carried part of his burden.
Arya… he thought before looking down to see Rya. His niece held his hand and was also letting out a huge stream of yellow light, just as he was. The energy was still too much to be contained in just two carriers. From the corner of his eye Eragon could see Du Dröttningu approaching but constantly being stopped by necromancers. Du Ebrithil also was in the same situation. Any necromancer that came near them evaporated almost immediately before making contact with the two formidable warriors. Eragon could see that the necromancers were trying to breach the wall of energy but were disintegrating the second any of them touched the surface of the light.
Almost there Eragon! Hold on! Whitestorm encouraged.
I'm… trying... I feel faint Whitestorm Elda… I need another carrier…
'Eragon! What are you doing? Are you crazy?' Du Ebrithil screamed at him. Du Ebrithil hacked at another necromancer before continuing on his path towards the blue rider. One after another after another. The dark beasts just wouldn't stay down. Du Dröttningu seemed to be having the same issue, even with her exceptional magic, the numbers were too overwhelming.
'Eragon stop!' Du Dröttningu ordered. 'Whatever you're trying to do I too dangerous! Stop now while you still can!'
The power of the two gems was immense and would have destroyed him if not for the young rider that stood before him. The flow of light was causing him immense pain. After what seemed like an eternity, a magnificent roar bellowed from the sky. Lightning started to try and make its way to the ground. Thunder followed. Another roar. The same cycle.
Eragon could feel the energy starting to slow down. Huge clouds began gathering above where the battle was taking place. A white beam of lightning struck the ground with such force that a portion of the palace they were all fighting in front of fell apart. The dragon roared once again whist thunder and lightning raced each other. All combat had stopped. Everyone simply stared at the dragon that had materialised seemingly from just one bolt of light. All elves, humans, necromancers and riders edged away from the beast not knowing its side in this battle, or if it even had one.
From the silence Du Ebrithil started crying. Whitestorm looked down at his rider and a tear also fell from his eye. Eragon was shaken to his core. A dragon of such magnitude could feel such strong emotions for a human that was so small and insignificant in comparison to himself.
The necromancers all took to the skies but had made a huge error. Whitestorm bellowed once, causing shockwaves, throwing people and possessions off balance and almost into the air. From the sky a series of lightning bolts struck each necromancer, creating chains and attaching to another. In this fashion more than half of the necromancers had been wiped out. Before Whitestorm could roar once again, Du Ebrithil had ran up to him and had embraced a claw on the dragon's right foot. Eragon had never witnessed such a behaviour from his teacher before which was quite awe-inspiring. The humans and elves looked warily at Whitestorm before gradually adapting to the dragon's presence. Eragon hadn't realised how heavily he had been panting along with Rya.
The exhaustion was strong and he slowly felt his legs give way beneath him and his mind slowly let the subconscious take over.
The ground beneath him felt damp but the air tasted sweet, as though life had started anew in the world. Eragon's eyes weren't adjusted to such bright light given the experiences over the past few days. He was in a tent, or what was left of it. Bits of the cloth had been burnt and a few frames were bent out of shape or missing entirely. The sun shone through a hole, illuminating the shelter. From outside the tent, Eragon could hear the sound of clanging metal and sawing wood. Standing up, he donned his armour except the leggings from the necromancer race and left the tent. He looked around for someone he could recognise through the bustle of people that were busy repairing the palace. The eye in the sky was gone and the sun shone more brightly than he had ever seen before.
Du Dröttningu was standing giving orders to her sky elves regarding the rebuilding of the Riders Hall. Eragon bumped into several people by accident as he made his way over to where Du Dröttningu was standing. A lumberjack hit him from behind causing him to fall towards Du Dröttningu who swiftly sidestepped and caught him by the nape.
'We really must work on your reflexes. They just aren't as good as you need them to be.'
'Sorry Dröttningu, I just slipped,' Eragon apologised.
'Do not worry about it. We must begin your training if we are to defeat Oathbreaker, understand?'
'Yes ebrithil,' he replied, 'but not just right now. I must find Arya and Du Ebrithil. I must speak with him immediately.'
Du Dröttningu pointed him in the direction of where she had last seen Du Ebrithil and let him go on his way.
Eragon made his way over to a tent which Du Dröttningu had said he was last in, however, upon reaching the supposed dwelling of the white rider, he did not find his master.
He came out and looked around. On a hill in the distance Eragon could make out a huge dragon resting with its wings pointing upwards at the joints. Shimmers of blue reflections danced from its scales and a huge smile took over his forlorn expression. Without thinking twice he dashed over to Saphira and made contact with her mind, suddenly feeling a rush of familiarity.
The days had passed so quickly but still no sign of either his mate or master. Rain fell like pellets on the side of the palace walls which was now almost completely rebuilt. He lay in his room waiting for something to happen, as he did every day when he wasn't training with Du Dröttningu.
The first day had been hard. He had been told to manoeuvre a huge stone whilst battling with a sword. The next day he had spent receiving bruises from his new mistress. Being her student was not easy. She was relentless. Not caring to stop for breaks or giving any sort of reprieve.
It is for the better little one. It keeps you focused. Whilst we were with Oromis he tried to do the same thing as you may recall, but both of you suffered from a slight inability to train for long hours on end or execute difficult tasks. I believe this is exactly how the riders were also trained.
I understand. But why make the Rimgar more complicated than it already is? That must be the most difficult thing she's told me to do so far. She's changed it to make it more challenging, albeit more relaxing once you get accustomed to it. Have you found Du Ebrithil or Arya yet?
No. what about Whitestorm's Eldunarí? Saphira asked.
Still nothing, he answered.
Oromis had made his way back into his gem the day before and had congratulated Eragon immensely on his ability to revive a dragon from nothing but his eldunarí.
A banging on the door took him out of his daydream. Eragon answered to find Blodhgarm, who instructed him to follow.
As they walked Eragon decided to take the opportunity to ask about Arya.
'Arya is the reason I am here Eragon. The state of the queen is a strange one and we were not prepared to let you know until now,' was his reply.
'Why? What's wrong?' Eragon asked worriedly.
'You shall see,' was all he received as an answer.
They made their way over to a room near the training arena. Eragon didn't recognise this new room.
Probably built newly with the rebuilding, he thought.
Blodhgarm knocked then held the door open for Eragon to enter, through which he did. The room wasn't too lavishly furnished. Just a bed, a table, a scrying mirror and a window for light.
The walls were made from cobble bricks and were painted over to give them a slightly more appealing look. The window looked in upon the training arena, although with quite a bad angle and not letting much sound in. probably the main reason they had chosen this room over others. On the bed lay a beautiful young elf, with black leggings and tunic… not green.
Arya seemed somewhat shorter than before as well, and a little leaner. Nothing else about her seemed to have changed. Around her sat all of his new companions: Du Ebrithil, Du Dröttningu, Rya and Blodhgarm. The eldunarí he kept in his chest also seemed to be stirring now, as though it had been occupied with something else.
Eragon briskly made his way over to the bed Arya was lying on. She looked extremely peaceful and seemed like she wouldn't wake up for a long while.
Du Ebrithil broke the silence, 'She is under a spell I put on her, keeping her in this resting state. What has happened to her is difficult for any of us to understand but…' he trailed off.
'But what?' Eragon questioned.
After a sigh Du Dröttningu finished his sentence.
'She has lost many of her memories. She doesn't recognise any of us or you. She still believes we are in the war with Galbatorix and that she must carry Saphira's egg to the Varden tomorrow. This all happened during the time the eye was in the sky. The necromancers have something to do with this but we do not know what.
'What do you mean?' Eragon asked disbelievingly. 'Surely she must recognise me,' he protested.
'No Eragon. Sadly she doesn't recognise any of us except Blodhgarm. Not you, not me not your daughter.'
My daughter… his heart suddenly felt a pang of regret and pain. How could I have forgotten?
'Wake her up,' he ordered.
'But erago-'
'WAKE HER UP!' he bellowed.
The entire palace seemed to fall silent.
Reluctantly Du Ebrithil muttered a few words thereafter saying, 'As you wish Eragon, but you may not like what you see. We have tried calling on the magic within Whitestorm but nothing has worked. All we need is-'
'Be quiet,' Eragon snapped before turning to face his beloved elf.
He stroked her hair as she stirred in her sleep, before snapping her eyes open and staring into the room. Her facial expression seemed to be that of confusion as she stared into the face of the rider she loved… or once loved. Arya raised her elbow extremely swiftly into Eragon's jaw, blanking out his mind for a moment. She rolled off the bed she was on and immediately took up a fighting stance, without weapons. She looked around the room at the many faces that stared at her, all of them wearing expressions of deep sadness.
'Arya, it's me, Eragon. what has gotten into you?' he asked her.
'Who are you? I don't know any of you! Why do you insist on telling me that you know me?' she retorted instantly.
'Arya,' Eragon's voice began to crack, 'I'm you're mate. Do you not recognise me?'
'What lies. You question my chastity? We are in the midst of a great war and you all still insist on wasting time here?'
She had obviously been very dedicated at her task.
They all spent several hours trying to explain to her how the war had ended but she insisted that it was ongoing. Eventually Eragon took a hold of her arm and dragged her outside the palace. He counted eight dragons flying at that moment.
'Look! Look up at the sky! Are they dragons? Or other creatures?' Eragon asked intensely.
'Dragons…' Arya's voice seemed to be completely overcome with awe.
'Yes Arya dragons. You were successful in your mission to find the rider of the blue egg. That was me. I rescued you from Gil'ead with my brother and then we travelled to the Varden with an army of kull at our heels. Do you seriously not remember all of this?' he inquired.
'No… no, I… don't,' she replied.
Eragon wiped a heap of sweat from his brow before leaving her alone to stare at the dragons and walking away towards where Saphira lay beside Whitestorm.
Eragon slumped down beside Saphira leaning on her powerful body.
Saphira… she doesn't recognise me! Not one bit. I cannot believe it. How could she forget?
Be calm little one. She may soon realise everything that has come to pass, Saphira reassured him.
Your dragon is right young one, Whitestorm's thoughts boomed. There may still be a chance that she will remember. We just need to find out how her memory was altered in the first place. As you may recall. The necromancer said to you that the shifting of the balance had caused Arya to lose many of her memories. I do not believe this is true. In fact I think something else has taken place. Either the necromancers directly did something to her or something else went wrong.
I understand Whitestorm Elda, Eragon replied respectfully.
How he wished the war in Alagaësia continued. Just so he could be with her while she still remembered him. If there was any way they could both be together again as mates, he would tear the world apart himself to do so.
If only there was something I could do.
From nowhere, a thud in Eragon's mind made his head ache.
He was tied to a post. A woman and man were arguing over something. He felt sick. How could this happen? How could someone so loyal and honourable turn against everything they had fought for? Why had they fought then in the first place? How could this have happened?
From the corner of his eye a man in black clothes shook hands with the man in the hood. Did this hooded person realise who he was trying to kill? Did he realise who he was truly serving? A madman. No other explanation could suffice. How could this have happened…
Eragon awoke in a large room. He was in his personal quarters. How did he end up here?
Must have passed out, he thought.
Who had he seen in that vision? A necromancer had been making an alliance with someone but who could it have been. It almost seemed the like the same way Eragon had nearly embraced the necromancers.
The next few days seemed to pass by strangely. Arya seemed like she had no purpose and almost deliberately avoided Eragon wherever she went. Du Dröttningu's training did not become easier in the slightest, instead consistently toughening. He had finally gained a chance to see his first born, Selena. The sight of the child had brought tears to Eragon's eyes, how he had his daughter in his hands but the mother did not recognise either of them. Eragon had become lazy when he wasn't training. He simply ignored Rya on some days when Du Dröttningu had been especially hard on him.
One morning the sun felt amazing on his skin but he felt empty. On his right in some sort of cot lay his daughter, who was mostly taken care of by the maids in the palace. The rest of the time, he was carrying her around, reaching his mind out to her and trying to explain things about the world to her.
This particular morning she seemed to be gone already. Eragon simply stared at the empty cot for a while before Saphira contacted him.
Eragon? You're awake. Quickly, come to the main hall. A meeting is being held by Du Dröttningu. She seems to have taken charge of the riders and with better leadership than you ever did, Saphira teased.
Eragon simply grunted and got out of his bed. Having put on his clothes, he left his armour and weapons and hurriedly made his way towards the riders' hall. Upon entering the hall, he looked around at those participating in the meeting. Just the few basic people he expected, and for some strange reason, this group included Rya almost as if filling in for Arya.
Eragon took a seat beside Rya whilst the rest of them began talking about battle plans and other things of the sort. Just as the meeting was about to end, Du Dröttningu brought up Whitestorm.
'None of us know how or why he appeared, but he has caused a new threat to arise. Whenever one legendary dragon is reborn, the other two are also, the only issue is who they will be reborn to, us or them,' she said darkly.
Rya nudged Eragon and whispered asking him what a legendary dragon was.
'No idea Rya,' was his reply.
Upon inquiry he was informed that a legendary dragon was one of the three guardians on nature. Whitestorm was the guardian of thunder and storms. The other was Vrael's dragon Umaroth. He was the guardian of fire and land. The third hadn't been recorded yet but was supposedly the guardian of the oceans. A guardian dragon would appear at a time of great need, and so would its eldunarí. This was why Whitestorm had remained so dormant when Eragon had taken it from Du Ebrithil.
Eragon also learned that a legendary dragon could survive without its rider and could choose any new rider at will, which is how Du Ebrithil was chosen. Whitestorm was the oldest of the three dragons but certainly not the most powerful. That honour had belonged to Vrael. The guardian of fire and land was by far the most powerful of them all.
Eragon recalled how Whitestorm had taken out the necromancers using thunder. He had heard stories about how Umaroth had burned Shurikan's stomach scorching the area even darker than it already was during their battle against Galbatorix.
'If Whitestorm returned to Du Ebrithil won't Umaroth return to Vrael?' Eragon asked after the complicated explanation.
'No. The dragon chooses a new rider under normal circumstances, however, you awakened Whitestorm directly from his eldunarí. This was because you needed him at a time of great importance. Had you not already been assigned a dragon, you would have received Whitestorm as a dragon. We can only pray that one of the two white eggs we have holds another guardian, if not then we will be in a worse situation than before,' Du Dröttningu ended.
'I assume Whitestorm has started training Saphira?' Du Ebrithil asked.
'Yes, I think so ebrithil,' he answered.
Eragon thought about everything that was going on as he walked back towards his room.
Three legendary dragons were powerful enough to destroy several dragon riders in one strike. They had one. Two could be assigned to either Oathbreaker or them. Arya had lost all her memories. Selena was more or less motherless as she approached half a year of age. Necromancers had allied themselves with someone that seemed quite dangerous and… Murtagh was alive!
Sorry if it's too long. Got a bit carried away.