Twang. Twang. Twang. Eragon flinched as another incoming volley of arrows sped toward him, only to be halted inches before his body by his wards. Thankfully, due to the combined efforts of the elves and Eldunarí, his wards would not be going anywhere anytime soon. Nor, Eragon thought, would he maddened desire for vengeance which was currently dominating the Urgals.
Eragon risked a quick glance toward his right. Blödhgarm's lips twitched into an odd smile as missile after missile – arrows daggers, and spears alike – harmlessly rebounded off his wards. Two of the furred elf's spellcasters on either side of him, however, did not seem to be enjoying their present scenario at all. Their faces were livid, and Eragon saw Yaela, the female elf that had slayed two Urgals, nimbly dance out of the way of the incoming avalanche, despite having an abundance of wards. Though on the surface her face appeared impassive, Eragon could not help but notice that a vein on her temple throbbed as fervently as fast-beating heart, and that her hand was resting on her sheathed sword, her grip painfully tight.
The vast conscience of Umaroth lightly probed Eragon's mind. His voice was calm, but a measure of urgency permeated it. Shadeslayer, I fear that if we procrastinate much longer, Galbatorix's former Eldunarí may sense something amiss and, in their confusion, lash out at us. You have heard Saphira's plan; we must act soon.
Eragon nodded, though he knew Umaroth would not see the motion. His throat stretched painfully as he swallowed. It then dawned upon him that although he had all the strength of Saphira, the Eldunarí, and the elves, he had no idea as to how he would erase the Urgals' memories.
Umaroth seemed to sense Eragon's doubts. Do not worry; you will have the knowledge of the other Eldunarí and myself to aid you. The elves – being that they are capable of formulating words and consciously weave magic – will assist with the task as well.
Glaedr's conscience then slithered into the interlinked minds of Eragon and Umaroth, his mind less overwhelming than the latter, but massive and wise as well. Know, Shadeslayer, that it would not do you well to completely erase the Urgals' memories. Not only is doing so much more difficult than alternative methods, it is also incredibly foolish. Imagine for a moment if we were to in fact eradicate any trace of what has just transpired from their minds. They will awaken from their daze and try to recall what had happened for the past two hours or so. When they fail to do so, they will consult in one another to see if they each have loopholes in their memories. When this occurs – and they will no doubt discover that all of their memories have been tampered with – they will inevitably grow suspicious of us, and our possession of magical power will not satiate their suspicions one bit. Therefore, we will have to replace their memories.
More and more of the Eldunarí from the Vault of Souls began chiming in, their overlapping voices a discordant wave of confusion. The younger of the Eldunarí seemed to echo Glaedr's words or simply stated their consent. I agree, Glaedr-elda, came the mental voices of several of the disembodied dragons. The older Eldunarí, on the other hand, shared a plethora of mental images, though what Eragon seemed to glean from these flickering thoughts were more or less what Glaedr had said. The images of the very oldest of the Eldunarí – wild dragons being the most prominent of the group – were entirely incoherent altogether. Among these ancient consciences Eragon sensed Valdr, the dragon who had lingered over an image of the dreams of a group of sleeping starlings, their seemingly petty content beginning to grow in importance until it seemed equal to the worries of kings.
Remembering that it was Valdr's image which had inspired him to cast the Empathy Spell on Galbatorix – which had ultimately been the primary factor leading to his downfall – Eragon paid especially close attention to his particular flurry of thoughts. But he soon realized that unlike last time, his thoughts were not significantly urgent or persistent; it was haphazard and intangible.
Again Glaedr cut in, his voice sharp and clear – a sharp sword piercing a chunk of clinking armor. Enough! We must make haste. While we tarry, time ticks. Eragon, before we assist you and the elves in your quest, you must realize that you cannot cast this magic on all the Urgals at the same time. Simply stated, it would be much too difficult to maintain the proper concentration to change all of their memories with believable replacements at the same time. However, if we are to take on the Urgals' minds once by one, a problem arises: After we twist the memories of one Urgal and proceed to the next, the confounded Urgal will see the rest of his kind firing arrows at us, and then our memory replacement will prove to be useless. No doubt, the mind-tampered Urgal will not ask questions and will immediately proceed to join his brethren in wreaking damage upon us. Therefore, after you have altered the memory of one of the Urgals, you must then proceed to place him into a deep slumber. After the last Urgal has been placed into this slumber, you will simultaneously awaken them all, before which we will have cleared up the damage of the currently ensuing battle and manipulated our look and position to coincide with the new memories placed into the Urgals.
A mental murmur of consent rose from amid the clustered consciences. Among the voices, Eragon heard a handful of elves; unbeknown to him, they had been present during Umaroth and Glaedr's talks.
The mental commotion then abruptly stopped, even as Eragon's mind cleared and he saw another sea or artillery rain down on him. He inhaled sharply, the cool air biting his lungs. He closed his eyes and extended his mind. Saphira!
Instantly, a roar came in response. There was then a great flapping nose, and for a moment, the sun seemed to extinguish. Its light then gradually began to burst through, as though a cluster of menacing grey clouds had just parted. In fact, the figure which had just blotted out the sky was from menacing and gray; it was an exotic dragon with magnificent blue scales, their surfaces shimmering under the sun's burning glare. Little one?
The beating of her wings subsided. Eragon lifted his gaze to meet hers, the sapphire tint in her eyes shining with anticipation. Saphira . . . I know that you have just as little experience as me in this matter, but I'd like – I'd need you to help me out along the way.
A trail of smoke steamed from Saphira's nostrils as she responded. You know, I don't know why you can't just let me roast them all to a crisp. They're such a nuisance as it is, and it'll save us a great deal of time and energy. She paused, and then gingerly continued: Besides, if we get rid of them, we could use this land for the next generation or Dragon Riders. It would be fitting, wouldn't it? The creatures directly responsible for the death of Galbatorix's first dragon – and, indirectly so, the fall of the Riders – get shoved aside to make room for the rebirth of those they destroyed.
Saphira! Eragon felt her falter underneath his reprimanding tone. Really, now, you can't actually be serious. Besides, as harsh as it may sound, had it not been for the circumstances following the fall of the Riders, we would have never met the beings we did and be the beings we are. Or, you could have never hatched for me in the first place. He shuddered as he considered the thought. And let's be completely honest: It was you who provoked the Urgals and got us into this mess.
Saphira snorted. First of all, I don't care what their reasons were – they attacked me first. Secondly, relax, I was only joking. Worry not, hatchling; I shall assist you no matter what.
Eragon grinned, satisfied.
๛
Beads of sweat clung to Eragon's face as he dodged a dozen arrows, the motion more of a result of instinct than necessity, as his wards were still intact. Still, he had recently begun feeling the negative impact of the wards on his reserve of energy.
About half an hour ago, he had retreated a mile down the coast, casting a spell to conceal himself before the Urgals had caught up with him. Once the Urgals had retired from their futile search for him, Glaedr, Umaroth, and the rest of the Eldunarí had coached him on how he was to carry out the mission, making him repeat the exact wording and pronunciation of phrases from the ancient language numerous times.
Now, Eragon's eyes carried a determined look about them. He turned his head to meet the gaze of the elven spellcasters a few yards to his side. They had not joined him in his lessons, as they claimed that they were well-informed on how to work the magic needed at hand. It had been unsettling for Eragon to realize that, despite having a surplus of energy and strength and knowing the True Name of the ancient language, there were still things that he could not do; things that the elves could.
Sharp as they always were, each of the elves caught his eye. Eragon nodded; it was time. They returned the gesture.
Their plan was simple enough. He and the elves would muster energy from Saphira and the Eldunari and, like the Eldunari themselves had done to himself, Saphira, and Glaedr at the Vault of Souls, they would tackle the minds of each Urgal individually, completely subduing it. They would then make the Urgals think that everything up to their encounter with Saphira had actually happened as it really did, but they manipulated the events which occurred afterward. The creatures were to believe that they had indeed attacked Saphira, but that she had not retaliated.
Instead, they were to believe that Saphira had opted to retreat, and had alerted Eragon of the Urgals' attack. Eragon, according to the fib, had contacted Kesem, the group's head magician, and alerted him that Saphira was in fact part of their group and meant no harm. Following that, Nar Hazak had issued an order to cease the attack.
The tricky part would be explaining the Urgal corpses. One of the elves had suggested that they make the Urgals think that after Nar Hazak had commanded the assault to stop, a handful of Urgals had protested, calling the command "un-Urgallike."
Nar Hazak, out of self-preservation, had refused to revise his order. This had then resulted in these Urgals lashing out at their brethren at random. Ultimately, they were outnumbered and brought down. These "rebels" would be the currently slayed Urgals. Eragon and the others had thought it was a superb idea, so they had agreed to do it.
Eragon was the first to attack. He reached out to the Eldunarí, and in moments a river of energy surged through him, the momentum of it all feeling as though it might rip his heart out.
How ironic that would be, Saphira amusedly observed, hearing his thoughts.
Eragon laughed, similarly amused. Then, with a mental lunge, he seized the mind of Kesem, the Urgal magician. He wanted to first take out the Urgals with magical abilities, as it would be potentially cumbersome to subdue an Urgal while it is being assisted by a fellow magician.
Eragon nearly jumped back as he realized that he had gained full control of the magician in a mere matter of seconds. Around him, Eragon saw the elves doing the same to the remaining magicians. Although Eragon knew it was would be irrational to expect a formidable resistance after having the minds of Glaedr, Saphira, and himself – all individually much more powerful than Kesem's – pried open in seconds by the same Eldunarí now assisting them, he was still surprised nonetheless. After carefully reciting the necessary words to alter the magician's memory, he then placed him into a heavy slumber – a feat he did not need coaching for, as he had done it on more than one occasion in the past.
The process of subduing the Urgals took nearly an hour. Subduing them was not the issue; that they had been able to do efficiently and quickly. Rather, it was the process of altering their memories where the difficult part kicked in. For one, they had to carefully utter every word in the ancient language with great care. Although Eragon had the Word to aid him in case anything went astray, he nevertheless did not treat the matter light-heartedly; even with the Word, mental damage was much more complex to heal than physical injuries. Additionally, the structure of the Urgals' brains was structured much differently than the brains of humans, dwarves, and elves. It possessed an animal-like element to it, thought it was coated with intellect.
Seeing as Eragon and the elves had never much been exposed to an Urgal's mind, they had to rely on the older Eldunarí for assistance, and that proved to be a barrier. Moreover, he and the elves had to fix all of the broken Urgal weapons sprawled about them on the mossy ground and replace them into the Urgals' possession. They were not exactly sure as to which weapons belonged to whom, so they distributed the weapons evenly among the unconscious creatures, hoping that it wouldn't rouse suspicion. Finally, they resumed their positions prior to Saphira's attack, and then released the spells fatiguing the Urgals.
Now, Eragon saw many of the creatures blindly stumble and grapple about, their hideous faces momentarily bewildered. Then, they quickly recovered, the time taking them to do so being as long as their initial stage of befuddlement. As Eragon and the elves casually pulled ashore and Saphira landed in front of them, Nar Hazak and Kesem came sprinting toward them, their faces alit with wonder and their bodies not even panting slightly.
Nar Hazak spoke first, his voice an avalanche of rumbling rock. "Greetings, Shadeslayer!" He grunted, and then his voice took on an excited edge. "Do tell us how you got your name – my blood boils to hear this story."
Kesem's voice was the second to sound, his voice cutting in before Eragon could respond to the massive Kull's question: "Welcome! I do not often show signs of mercy to intruders, but I must apologize for our rams' behavior. We thought that the hornless creature flying toward us was some strange magic you have conjured in an attempt to destroy us. We did not know this creature meant us no harm; we are sorry, but attacking your pet was the only thing we could do."
He then heard a grunt from Saphira. How dare he call me a . . . pet. She rolled the last word around in her head sourly, as though she had just bitten into a rotten carcass. Then she flicked her tail, annoyed.
Eragon frowned, he too thinking that the magician had acted rudely.
As Eragon headed off several miles northwest – to a location where the Urgals had told him he may go to with the elves – he pondered the overall lack of expression the Urgals had demonstrated when seeing Saphira. He had not expected excitement or disbelief per se, but perhaps anger at the very least. After all, Urgals generally weren't very fond of dragons.
It then occurred to Eragon that the Urgals had no idea what a dragon was.