Chapter V of Shadow, a work of fan fiction based on Christopher Paolini's InheritanceCycle.
Every week or so, a new chapter will be published, so stay on your toes for more!
Gïrnięn rose from his cot and yawned. He checked the notches he had made in the earth beneath his quarters. Four and three-score notches. Four and three-score days. Gïrnięn looked up at the ceiling of his room. That was two months and three days. Sighing, Gïrnięn dressed, glancing at his roommates, a bizarre assortment of races lay out before him. The only characteristics this group had in common were their gender. Rows after rows of sleeping dwarves, Urgals, and a few entranced elves occupied the clean white cots. Gïrnięn reached out his mind to Cïtirinus and discovered that the sunny dragon was still asleep. A variety of dreams tumbled out to Gïrnięn, jumbled and tangled. There were dreams of darkness, and dreams of destruction. There were dreams of light and happiness, and order and jealousy. Though Gïrnięn had looked into Cïtirinus' dreams may times, he never failed to be astounded by the complexity, intelligence, and raw power of Cïtirinus' mind. Exiting the cabin, Gïrnięn stepped out into the dawn. The brilliance of the rising sun painted the sky rich crimsons and dancing oranges, bright yellows banishing the remnants of purple and violet night still possessed.
In the past months, Gïrnięn had worked off much of the excess fat from his frame, his muscles emerging to the front, the skin on his legs hardening to Cïtirinus' metallic scales. He had still made no progress with Lednerg, but his speed and pace increased, Gïrnięn began returning to the classroom with the bucket partially full. Lednerg still denied the buckets strange ability to drain, but Gïrnięn felt much more pleased with himself. Meanwhile, Cïtirinus had grown to the size of a large stag. Looking up, Gïrnięn realized that he felt contented.
"Well, well. Look who we have here… The student who failed four and three-score times when he was given a simple assignment."
Gïrnięn gritted his teeth as Lednerg's words tried to pierce his emotional barriers, tried to make him overstep his line.
"Well, I won't take it much longer. You either retrieve it today, or…" Lednerg twirled his long, spindly fingers in strange and esoteric ways, but what most disturbed Gïrnięn was the way the nails clicked together rhythmically, like a clock ticking the hours toward death. "Mmm… yes, if you fail, you shall be renounced as a Rider, and Master Eragon will… use his ways to separate you and Cïtirinus."
Gïrnięn had a short intake of breath. Could Eragon do that? After all, Eragon was one of the three who knew the Word…
Lednerg read Gïrnięn's mind, his fingers still clicking together steadily. "Yes, you know he is capable of such a thing." Lednerg's face twisted into a sneer. "And, at my request, he will do so."
Lednerg's cold, cruel fingers reached toward the bucket, and handed it to Gïrnięn. He then turned and picked up a ragdoll. The ragdoll was exquisite, and Gïrnięn may have even called it lovely but for three things. First, the doll had been crafted in the shape of Lednerg. Also, when lifted, its crystal nails clicked together much the same way the elf did himself. And finally, most disturbingly, its eyes were tiny black buttons, sewn above a cold and cruel smile.
"This will be my… watcher. He will make sure you don't cheat."
Tucking the disturbing doll in Gïrnięn's sleeve, where it touched the gedwëy ignasia, Lednerg uttered: "Be on your way. And do not, in any way, fail me."
Grimacing, Gïrnięn grasped the basket and exited the room. Making his way to the well, Gïrnięn screamed in frustration. Cïtirinus awoke to his thoughts.
What happened, Gïrnięn?
Gïrnięn conveyed Lednerg's grim message.
It cannot be.
But it is.
Gïrnięn shut off his mind and started gathering the water. Hauling the bucket up, Gïrnięn watched as, much quicker than before, the water drained away. Almost tearing his hair, Gïrnięn tried again. And again. And four times more. On his seventh try, Gïrnięn screamed with anger, fury, and resentment. He channeled all his hate for Lednerg and all his love for Cïtirinus together until he touched some remote nub in the back of his mind. Roaring, Gïrnięn mentally tore open the nub and dived into the flow that pulsed beneath and concentrated all his thoughts on one idea: transport a full bucket of water back to Lednerg. To Gïrnięn's surprise, the bucket rose out of the well and flew faster than Gïrnięn could ever run, in the direction of the classroom. Breathless, Gïrnięn started running toward the classroom.
When he arrived, Lednerg nodded with approval. "You've finally discovered magic. Good for you. The other two still have no idea that magic exists."
Gïrnięn!
Cïtirinus?
Help, the pain…
Gïrnięn felt a fresh wave of pain wash over him. The burning agony gripped his body, immobilizing it. Struggling, Gïrnięn closed off his mind.
"Cïtirinus! We need to get to him!"
Lednerg nodded and mentally broadcasted the thought. Gïrnięn, still struggling, fell to the floor, wracked in pain. The last word he heard before blacking out was "molting…"