Three riders-Three paths
Eragon settled into his usual stance, knees bent, shield strapped to his left arm and Brisingr held up close to his face. A few metres away, Blodhgarm was in a similar stance, his blue-black fur rippling as they paced around in a circle. He wore a helmet, a few scant pieces of armour and held in his right hand was a shield. They were at the back of the Talita, in a specially marked zone, ready to go hammer and tongs at each other. Directly above them was the sun, lending neither side an advantage. Its rays heating up their armour so by the time they actually finished their first round it would be unbearable, stifling heat. He strove to clear his mind of all thoughts and feelings except about the fight which would be about to take place. He took in every detail he could before he overloaded his brain, the stance of Blodhgarm, the evenness of their fighting surface and things he could use to his advantage.
He slightly shifted his grip on Brisingr and it was that moment that Blodgharm decided to attack, whether by coincidence or planning he was caught off guard. Blodhgarm bounded forward, and swung his elven sword at his knees, while at the same time bringing his shield up to block any counter blow. Eragon jumped over the sword and retaliated with a short chop with Brisingr, which was almost too fast for elven eyes to follow. Blodhgarm caught the blow on his shield and instead of following up with another sword stroke, he jumped back a few paces, letting the battle settle back to its usual sedate state.
Sweating, Eragon followed Blodgharm's movements while at the same time keeping an eye on Blodgharm's eyes. An experienced swordsman might not show any outward signs of intending to attack, but it was still a good idea and he needed every slight advantage he could get over Blodhgarm, for the elf was a much more experienced swordsman than himself. Noticing that Blodhgarm was slowing down his movements to those of the speed of a humans, he did the same, all the while emptying his mind of thoughts that would distract him from the game they were playing. Blodhgarm suddenly feinted, and he flinched, cursing himself for being fooled so easily, and then, with no outward signs of his intention to attack, Blodhgarm once again bounded forward, seizing the moment of confusion that Eragon had just had.
Blodhgarm brought his shield up in a curve, forcing Eragon to block the blow with his own shield as he tried to stay on his feet. Seeing an opportunity to attack Blodhgarm he stabbed in Blodhgarm's general direction with Brisingr. Blodhgarm twisted aside, letting the blow that could have disembowelled him, pass harmlessly by, making Eragon even more off balance. Blodhgarm swung the elven sword in a looping overhand blow, the silvery metal catching some glints of sunlight on its face. Eragon ducked beneath the sword, and dropped his shield carrying arm, bringing it down to his left haunch. Using the momentum he had gained by doing so, he springed forward, in a ferocious leap. Blodhgarm was caught unawares as he fended himself from his maelstrom of blows with only his shield. Eventually, he forced Blodhgarm off his feet and onto his knees, but just as he thought he had Blodhgarm, he heard a sword whistling through the air, and to his horror he saw Blodgharm's sword skimming the wooden planks of the deck towards his shins. He jumped, and as he slowly inadvertently twisted in the air, he saw Blodhgarm get to his feet as slowed his sword arm to a halt.
After he had landed, he immediately swung Brisingr in a wide circle, crouching to the ground as he did so and sure enough a moment later he heard a sword whistle over his head and then a slight shudder pass through the deck as Blodhgarm landed behind him after jumping away from Brisingr's path. He straightened up, and turned around, making sure to bring his sword up to block any blows coming his way.
He caught Blodgharm's shield on his own, and heard the satisfying as the shields metal tipped edges banged together. Around him, he was aware that a crowd of Elves were gathering. Blodgharm's deflected shield blow went sailing over his head harmlessly, and he used the moments rest to rid his head of any inconsequential thoughts that he had accumulated.
They resumed their slow pacing, and it was then that Blodhgarm abandoned his shield, sliding it out of their pre-marked combat arena. He wondered at the wisdom at this, but seeing that he should choose the fight on his terms he bounded forward once again. He swung his sword in a looping blow, his hand sliding all the way down to the pommel of Brisingr, but no matter how fast his sword moved Blodhgarm always seemed to easily dance out of its way. After a particular viscous flurry of blows, all of which Blodhgarm managed to avoid, Blodhgarm swung his sword in a chest level arc towards Eragon. He skipped back from the blow, but then he realised its true purpose, he was too slow to move his shield arm and yelled in discomfort as the tip of the elven sword caught his shield on the inside and yanked it away, in a process that almost dislocated his arm. As he tried to recover from the surprise and pain, Blodhgarm unleased his own set of furious blows, preventing him from retrieving his shield as it slowly slided out of the combat area. Making room for his left hand, he gripped Brisingr with two hands and brought down it on where Blodhgarm was a moment ago, Blodhgarm having danced to the side. The blow however served its real purpose; to allow himself time to regain his composure. Blodhgarm brought his sword up a few moments later which Eragon blocked with Brisingr in a clumsy push, that jarred his arm right up to his shoulder.
They exchanged a few more blows until Blodhgarm gripped his sword with a tighter grip, his knuckles going white from the pressure, and pirouetted, bringing the sword through the air at an insane speed. He just leaped back in time, but at the expense of landing on his back. As he stopped himself from sliding out of the circle, he had to let one hand go of Brisingr, which was the opportunity Blodhgarm was waiting for. Stepping in range of Eragon, he swung his elven blade in a scythe like motion towards his head, a blow that would have decapitated him, regardless of wards, had he not blocked it with his own sword. Unfortunately, the block forced him to let go of Brisingr, unless he wanted to break his arm. Blodgharm's sword having come to a timely arrival at Eragon's neck, slowed down by the blow, at this range he probably didn't have enough swing time to outright kill him, but could severely injure him and then potentially kill him a few moments later. Recognising defeat, he closed his eyes and slumped, the sword fighting taking an immense toll on his energy levels. After a few moments like that, he with his eye's closed and body slumped in exhaustion, and Blodhgarm grinning his feral grin, which was still their when he opened his eyes again, and his beautiful elven sword at the nape of his neck, they returned themselves to reality.
Eragon heard in the distance Blodhgarm congratulating him, "Well done Shadeslayer" he said, "You have improved since we last fought" but at the moment he didn't really care he just felt like going sleep. He accepted Blodgharm's hand and marvelled despite how tiring their duel was, even if you had done nothing beforehand, Blodhgarm showed no outward signs of exhaustion. "Blodhgarm" he asked, "How did you get to be so strong", Eragon could not help feel a pang of jealousy, petty as it was. "Well" replied Blodhgarm, "In my early days, back when I was a naïve young elf, I wanted to become the strongest, fastest and most-skilled elf to wander the expanse of Du Weldenvarden." As Eragon absorbed this he realised he had not answered the original question, "But how" repeated Eragon. "It took a significant amount of time, I had to construct spells that would raise the efficiency of how my body operates and increase the amount of energy I can store in my cells, which is dangerous in the extreme" he cautioned. "Much like the dragons are doing to you at the moment" he remarked, "Except I was not as powerful and as wise, so it took me a lot longer to gain an equal increase in strength."
"Surely, you would consult with an Elder at least" Eragon said disbelievingly. "Remember" he said mischievously with his feral grin, "I was young and Naïve. I was not the person I am now" he remarked with only the slightest hint of nostalgia, "I did have some problems though. When I was putting the finishing touches to my spell, making sure that they couldn't be disabled easily or kill me through some ill-worded sentence, I realised that in an error of design, I made the spells to only take effect after training, not before training."
After a slight pause, where he collected his stray thoughts,he continued "So after months of intense training, I had to let my body revert to its usual state" he said in an annoyed voice, "I refused to alter the spells anymore, fearing that I would do some irreversible damage. So I waited for a few months for my body to revert to its usual state" he continued, "Then when the time was ripe, I resumed my training. It took almost three months, probably less for you" he offered as a consolation, "before my spells could no longer cope with the excess of muscle that I had built up. I then completed the remaining part of the spells, locking my body into its state, while also allowing me to change my appearance at the whims of my consciousness. Now I no longer need to maintain the rigours of my old training in order to keep the better part of my strength" he finished.
"Ah" Eragon said, "So you risked death or worse in order to gain more strength." The many elves that were present, at first watching their fight and now listening to their conversation, shifted uncomfortably. Blodhgarm looked around at them before he responded, "Thank you for putting it so bluntly" doing a little mock bow, "but yes" he said, "I did, in a slight twist of your words, risk death for power. As far as my insatiable lust for power would let me, I couldn't die after all, where would that leave me" he joked. Eragon laughed, and after slight hesitation, the other elves joined in, their heavenly sounds carrying away in the slight breeze. And soon enough everyone on the Talita was laughing; whether they knew what was happening was anyone's guess, but the laughter was infectious. Eragon felt giddy with happiness, a great big smile showing on his otherwise calm face, but as the elves stopped laughing one by one, the world seemed to be even more sad and depressing than before. Slowly the elves dispersed, and then finally Blodhgarm but before he did, he said "Thank you Blodhgarm." To which the elf responded, without turning around, by nodding his head in a single wolf-like motion and saying in a curt voice "Shade-slayer."
"Poor little one" said Saphira in his mind, "Always the subject of things, he never gets a break does he" she said rhetorically. "Saphira, are you feeling better" he said, for she had become introspective over the past few weeks. "I am little one" she sniffed, "but ask any more questions and I might fall back into sadness" she joked, with a little twinge of seriousness to her statement. Knowing that dragons could sometimes have temperamental feelings, he let it rest and rejoiced in sharing his feelings and thoughts with his life partner.
"Rhunon" said Arya, "This must be first time in the last few hundred years where you have gotten outside of your enclave of your own volition." Rhunon thought about it for a few moments and then remarked "You are right Arya. I need to consult with Eragon about something; I need to make sure he does not forget about his promise." She was intrigued about this promise, but her fear that Rhunon would retaliate held her back, that was until she caught Rhunon staring at her and saying "Spit it out would you." Unsure of how to word it without the slightest risk of offending Rhunon, even if Rhunon didn't give the appearance of caring, she bit her lip, until she gave up and copied Rhunon's way and asked the question in a brusque way, "What promise" she said. "Well" Rhunon began, "It was not really a promise but more of something he said in passing. He said he might be able to search for some Bright steel," she paused as a look of exasperation crossed her face, "and in my earnest to get a piece of work done I forgot to educate him about how to locate it."
Just as she was about to ask Rhunon about something, an elf who was taking a break from singing ran up and said "Drottning, Dathedr is scrying us." She motioned, in a hawk-like movement, for Rhunon to accompany them, in her haste forgetting her sense of decorum. She quickly strode over to the small command tent, with Rhunon trailing behind her, "I never" grumbled Rhunon, "Thought that I would participate in elven politics so soon." Ignoring the remark, she entered the command tent, and a second later so did Rhunon.
After explaining the traditional elven greetings, Dathedr who was obviously in a hurry and in a state of disarray, neglected the optional third line and instead chose to drive straight to the point. "While I was studying in the second break that we had scheduled" Dathedr had started by saying, "I realised that we are missing some crucial parts to the last two steps" he was about to say more but it was then that Rhunon interrupted. "Well that's all very well" started Rhunon, "but is there any way that we can finish it without the knowledge, or are we just wasting our whole nation's time" she finished in an exasperated tone. "Sorry" said Dathedr, "I did not see you there Rhunon. But if you had let me finish my explanation, then it would have become apparent." Rhunon was starting to look uncharacteristically bad tempered so Dathedr cut short whatever he was going to say, "In short, yes. However, we need the Eldunari, which have all been taken by Eragon. Consultation with our records indicates there might be a few dragons present on the Talita that might just be able to remember some of the wording, or failing that, some of the documents they have might contain the spells."
Thinking about it, she realised that the only who would be able to contact Eragon would be Rhunon, she would be co-ordinating the elven efforts, and anyway her people would think ill of her if she suddenly abandoned them in a crucial time. She fired off a barrage of questions about the situation, "How many spells do we need to recover? Have you double checked? How are they going to transport the Eldunari?" she asked. Dathedr took his time in considering these questions, and no matter how much impatient noises Rhunon made he did not hurry up. Eventually, after what seemed like a few minutes he responded. "In the vicinity of 5 to 10 spells, but they are quite long ones, and yes I have double checked" he said in response to her question and the look on Rhunon's face, "I am sure that Eragon and you will be able to figure something out."
"What" she said, "I was thinking that Rhunon should ask him, seeing as she is already going to ask him about something else, that is if she agrees with it" finished Arya in response to Rhunon's snort. "Oh, is that so" said Dathedr in an interested voice, "Well if she agrees with it, then I can find no case against it happening. What say you Rhunon," now directly addressing Rhunon. "Fine" she said in an grudging, accepting tone, "but you have to accept that the next batch of bright steel that I receive, is not for dragon rider swords, but a project of my own" she said, and then in retrospect she added "You also need to respect my decision if I decide to relocate to the new dragon rider home. Once it is finished I might consider temporarily moving there, and I want to deliver something to Eragon personally, something to compliment his armoury." Dathedr seemed deeply troubled by this decision, and so did she deep down, but after a few seconds he bowed and said in a smooth voice "Of course, Rhunon-Elda." He then bid both of them good day, and cut the scrying connection short.
She turned to Rhunon and started by saying "Thank you, are you sure-", but Rhunon cut her off by saying "Yes, I am." Rhunon then turned, exited the tent and presumably strode out towards the edge of the forest. After a suitable moment's pause she breathed a sigh of relief and said aloud, albeit in a small voice, to herself "That solves that problem, I wonder how successful she will be though."
Murtagh looked away as Thorn summoned up the magical fire from his belly and prepared to melt the stone, it was turning dark and he did not want to be temporarily blinded, as if he waited for too long then the stone would go cool and it would take even more time and effort than before to sufficiently shape the stone into the shape he desired. After a few minutes of concentrated fire, the stone began to glow cherry red and the melted parts were slowly drooping down the side of the block. He turned around, after Thorn had signalled him when it was safe to do so, and grabbed a hammer resting on a rock nearby. He pulled his clothes tighter to stop any wayward drops of molten stone from landing on his skin, even though he had wards for it he didn't want risk it, especially as if a large enough drop of stone landed on his skin, and burnt its way through his muscles he might not know how to repair the muscles fully.
Although he was sure Eragon or Galbatorix, or probably even the whole Elven race, could heal it given enough time and resources, he did not know how. There were only so many things Galbatorix could have taught him in his imprisonment, and mastering the art of healing burnt muscle was not one. In hindsight, considering they were fighting Saphira, who was for most of the time bigger than them and breathed fire that would have put a wildfire to shame, it probably would have been a good idea to master healing burnt muscle. Never the less, what is done is done and there would be no good done worrying about it now. With that parting thought, he abandoned his internal battles and instead focused on the thing at the hand, namely hammering into place molten stone.
Again and again he struck at the rock, his arm jarring with every end of his stroke; slowly the molten stone began to shape and eventually just before it cooled down, the stone melded with the stone next to it. The only thing crossing his mind as he swung the hammer back and forth was that there must be another, easier way to do this than swinging a hammer. Sure he could use magic but that seemed cheating, it would make it too easy and he took a lot of pleasure and pride in what he made wholly by his own hand, not by some easy, manipulative way.
It took another two rounds of being bathed in scathing fire and subsequently being hammered with a hammer, before the stone started to look like the 5 other stones they had already done. After being bathed in fire for the last time, he grabbed a massive slab, warded from heat, and pressed it with all his might against the stone block. Slowly but surely, the molten face of the rock smoothed out, and a few minutes later after he had noticed that the stone block had cooled sufficiently, he lifted the slab.
In front of him stood the now unrecognizable block, its edges on the right side flowed smoothly into the adjacent block; you could no longer tell the divide between the two if you looked from it straight on, from up above though, it was a different story. The face of the block was now extremely smooth, and it would be impossible to get a grip on, discouraging any would-be prowlers. All in all, it was exactly what he wanted and it looked like all the other blocks, lending uniformity to his unfinished structure which it otherwise lacked. Realising that night was quickly falling, if not had already fallen according to some people, and that he was happy with what they had accomplished together today, for it was a team effort as they both needed each other, he packed up the tools lying around the place. His werelight allowing him to see more effectively than if he had to rely on just the moon's pale light. After collecting his tools, he put them in bag he had fashioned from the tough skin of a dead animal, and walked beside Thorn as they staggered, man and dragon alike, over to their cave and soon enough, they were fast asleep, for they had already had had a filling dinner.
As he roused himself and by extension Thorn, from their partly shared slumber he noticed that it was quite a pleasant day, the sun was actually shining through the clouds with some strength for once. Having considered the weather for the day, he plodded, bleary-eyed, over to his designated camp fire. Thorn, as a dragon, did not really care about whether meat was raw or cooked and also, conveniently, carried around his own personal oven. Although primarily used at the moment for manipulating stone and keeping the cave warm when it was extremely cold, it was hot enough to also incinerate anyone silly enough to cross their path and annoy them till they were naught but ashes. He gathered some kindling and firewood from a pile of wood nearby and dragged it over to his fire site. After he had got the fire lit, with the help of a few words from the ancient language, and had put on some water to boil, in a bag made out of the gut of animal, strengthened with magic of course, he walked to the back of the cave. This was where it was coolest for some reason; he thought there might be a small air inlet somewhere hidden. If he really tried, he could probably locate it, but right now he couldn't be bothered and there were many more important things that warranted his time.
The main reason though for his visit to the back of the cave was that it was where he stored his meat. Meat kept on ice lasted longer and tasted nicer; they had discovered that after about a week of storing food for future meals and to be fair, as a son of a noble and eventually the kings own right hand man, he did not really need to worry about the state of his meat. It would be unheard of in the king's court to keep meat for more than a few days and even if they did, the cooks certainly weren't going to tell anyone, an angry Galbatorix was not to be trifled with. To the side of his slab of ice, he also stored some mushrooms and herbs, after he had performed a satisfactory amount of spells to detect poisons, he was pretty sure that they would not cause unforeseen dietary complications. After that he had used them regularly on their meals and to no ill effects, although the taste, especially those that of the mushrooms, certainly took time getting used to.
He selected a rabbit and a few herbs to go with it, and brought it over to the fire near the entrance of the cave. By the time he had done so the fire was going merrily and the water in his makeshift pot was beginning to boil. Taking a hunting knife from his belt he walked outside and started skinning and gutting the rabbit, tossing the unused bits out of the way so that the other animals that wandered this place could finish the meal off. He carried the bloodied body of the rabbit back inside and chucked it into the pot, along with half of the herbs he had retrieved. He walked over to Thorn, who had fallen fast asleep again, and tapped him hard on his scaly snout. Thorns only response to this was to curl up tighter and unleash a little bit of acrid smoke, which stung Murtagh's eyes. Knowing it would be futile to re-attempt to wake Thorn he left him be, and walked back to the fire, sitting on a stone close enough to the fire for it to dispel the cold. After about 20 minutes, the rabbit was nicely boiled; he carefully extracted it from the pot through the means of the ancient language, and laid it down on small stone slap nearby, which served as his plate. He sprinkled it with the remaining herbs and cut it up into pieces using the ancient language, one half he put aside to eat and the other he carried to the back of the cave for lunch.
He sunk his teeth into the piece of boiled rabbit, it was succulent and tender, and the herbs sprinkled on it gave it flavour which it otherwise lacked. It didn't take him long to finish the meat. He wiped the rabbit juice from his lips with the back of his hand and immediately set to work. His first task for the day would be to carry the stone blocks into the positions that he had marked out. Then continue on melding the stone blocks together with the help of Thorn, and then finally completing the last of the spells to ensure that the elements could not penetrate the caves entrance. It would be a tough day's work he thought dully, as he walked out of the cave and started dragging the first of the half-man-sized blocks into position.
So far they had completed about one fourth of the first layer of the wall, on the side closest to the cave, so they still had a long way to go till it even started looking like a castle. Murtagh didn't mind, he had lots of time on his hand and there was nothing that called to him from Alagaesia, save that of Eragon's promise to allow him to live at the dragon rider city, wherever that may be. If Murtagh had laid down end to end, the length of the wall would have been about 4 Murtagh's long, give or take about a half. Thorn had woken a few hours after he had eaten breakfast, by which time he had actually finished the spells on the cave as well as dragging all the stone blocks in the vicinity into position. After realising that it might be another hour before Thorn awoke of his own volition, he proceeded to skip the melding of the stone and instead constructed and then vocalised the spells to ensure that they could forever more have good night's rest. Well at least as long as they stayed and slept in that cave.
After realising that Thorn had awaken, they had exchanged a few words, then Murtagh had had a bit of lunch and then relieved himself before starting the melding process. This time they were much more effective at melding the stone blocks together, achieving twice as much in the same time. They had also plotted out where the wall was to extend too, something they had neglected to do before. Judging from the rate at which they got work done and the rate at which they were becoming more efficient at the said work, he estimated it might only be one more day before the first layer of stone blocks were completed. From there, it might take another month before their work was finished on the first wall, although then again they were in essence constructing two small walls and then filling the gap between the two walls with shards of rock and lots of dirt.
After a suitable moment's reflection on his life, he shook himself and proceeded to prepare dinner, for they had long since finished working for the day. Not the most productive day but definitely not the least. It also finally granted them the opportunity to take advantage of a full nights rest without being awakened by some infernal noise cooked up by some of those wintry, furious storms that threatened to bring the cave crashing down on their heads. It escaped him why for so long he had not bothered to finish off the remainder of the spells, even at the expense of his well-being, which was quite tangible. He could only suppose that it was his sloth manifesting, but he felt no urge to quell it, after all he thought wryly, what sentient being for that matter doesn't experience sinful feelings once in a while. Not even his almost pure half-brother could shrug that aside, his lust for Arya being one of the many obvious sins he having showed.
A.N. Thanks for reading and please review (please tell me especially about the sword fight, I would like to know if it appealed to anyone.) My largest chapter yet, in excess of 5000 words!
Update: Probs. Week/week and a half. Will update PoV timeline, summary, introduction and first chapter in the near future
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Inheritance Cycle, those belong Christopher Paolini, and his publishers.
Thank you and have a good day