That horrible clearing of devastation I had unwittingly created, I left it behind. I needed to see - something. The trees were so densely packed that I couldn't find my position. So I ran further until the trees became more scarce. Through the branches, mountains were visible. A whole range of them that stretched from one end of the horizon to the other, rising into the sky.
I walked without tiring, without feeling hunger or thirst. Somewhere in the back of my mind I wondered about this, but accepted it easily. The sun had risen and nearly set when I spied smoke through the trees. Curious, I hurried forward, breaking through the trees to see buildings. I didn't register the buildings very much though, for a man sat with his back to the forest far from those buildings, only a few feet away from me. He looked… familiar… more than anything has so far.
My footsteps had been silent, but now I took a step forward, snapping a twig.
Roran sat lazily, enjoying the view of the newly built Carvahall. He had been working all day, and figured he would take a short rest before returning to Katrina and Isma. A twig snapped behind him suddenly, causing the warrior to turn quickly. A person stood in the gloom of the trees - too dark for Roran to make out. "Come closer," the man said warily.
The figure moved forward, Roran's expression turning to one of startled joy. "Brother!" he shouted merrily. Closing the gap between them, he grabbed Eragon in a bear hug. He held on for a while until he noticed his brother was still, his arms hanging limply at his sides. Concerned, Roran held the Rider an arm's length away. He noticed Eragon's expression was blank.
Then it transformed into an expression of longing. One arm rose, fingers trailing down the side of Roran's face. Startled, the man held still. "Ro… ran…" Eragon murmured. His eyes seemed slightly unfocused, prompting Roran to hold the guy a little further away than before. Deciding now would be a good time to interrupt whatever had gotten into his brother, Roran said cautiously, "Brother?" Eragon looked up at him, their gazes meeting. His arm dropped as his eyes cleared.
"Ah… I… Are you Roran?" the Rider said, his voice tinged with desperation. Roran stared hard at Eragon. Finally he replied, "Yes," his tone unreadable. Eragon grinned. "So I got something right," he said, sighing. His expression was wrong, somehow, to his brother, who tried to figure out what was off. It was as if he was gone - even though he was standing before him.
"What do you know of me?" Roran asked, his tone light and friendly. His brother had obviously lost his memory. Although he wasn't sure exactly how a Rider's mind worked, he knew it didn't happen naturally. He also knew Eragon wouldn't be so careless as to let someone take his memories. So he tried to tread carefully, in order to figure out what had happened.
My mind was reeling. Roran, it's Roran, some part of me was celebrating, but that part of me… I did not understand. The man before me, his eyes were worried, his face familiar. In a world of strangeness, he was someone I knew, if barely. I felt drunk on recognition.
Eragon blinked, seeming to process Roran's question slowly. "I… know you," he said slowly, wonderingly. He seemed to be speaking with an innocence Roran had never seen in him before. They had grown up together, but the Rider had never displayed such vulnerability. Nervousness, perhaps, or fear, but not this naive semblance of a child. "Brother?" Roran asked again.
The Eragon blinked. "Er… agon… That's what everyone else called me. Why are you calling me Brother?" Roran shook his head. "Well," he started uncertainly, "we're cousins, but were raised by the same father. So we're brothers. Your name is Eragon. Do you really not remember?" The Rider shook his head, the naivete fading. "No," he replied sadly. Then he backed away.
Roran took a step to follow, but then to his eyes, Eragon's figure seemed to blur before vanishing. Roran sighed. "It's like a god with amnesia," he muttered. "Too powerful for anyone to help." Groaning, he turned to head home, and hopefully contact Nasuada. The whole of Carvahall was monitored more carefully by her than it had in Galbatorix's reign, making this a rather simple task.
I panted hard, my heart racing. When I had… acknowledged my empty memory out loud, it was as if it had become reality. I was afraid. When he had looked at me pityingly, that Roran, fear had seized my legs. I had run, as far and as fast as I could from that place. The serenity I had felt when I first woke in that lake… it was vanishing, being replaced by panic.