Chapter VI of Shadow, a work of fan fiction based on Christopher Paolini's Inheritance Cycle.
Every week or so, a new chapter will be published, so stay on your toes for more!
When Gïrnięn woke, he felt a strange pulsing through the connection between his mind and Cïtirinus '. Gïrnięn tried to stand up, but a voice nearby murmured: "Stay down."
Gïrnięn's mind throbbed with residual pain. "W-What h-happened?"
A peal of laughter rang out, clear and sharp as air moving through a whistle. The sound cleared Gïrnięn's head and he looked up. The elf Jinaë looked down at him. "You didn't control your telepathy well enough," she teased. "That intense pain you experienced was flooding over from your dragon, amplified within your link because his perception of how much pain he was enduring was much more than the actual agony he experienced."
Gïrnięn sat up again, alarmed. "The pain was coming from Cïtirinus? Is he…"
"No."
Reassured but not entirely recovered, Gïrnięn asked: "What happened?"
Jinaë's face darkened. "A prank was played."
"A prank?"
"Someone cast a spell on your dragon that amplified the reaction of his nerves. In other words, the spell amplified Cïtirinus' sense of touch by..." The elf paused, considering. "I'd say about by four score times."
"What?!"
"However, the spell erased itself immediately after your dragon started molting—like a giant serpent. Behavior not seen in any other dragon, I may also point out. Anyways, the spell vanished without a trace, making it impossible to track down who did it, though the whole island is troubled because of it."
Gïrnięn gritted his teeth with frustration, and tapped into the empathetic bond between himself and Cïtirinus.
Cïtirinus?
I'm here.
What happened during the "molting?"
Is that what they're calling it?
Yes. Anything to say?
Basically I shed my skin.
You what?
I shed my skin. They've already taken it to be tested for possible uses.
Shed your skin… Like a snake.
Yes, though I daresay my skin was thicker and tougher.
Was it painful?
Painful? Something that reminded Gïrnięn of a cynical laugh passed through their bond. No, itwasn't painful. It was pure agony.
I think I know why.
Gïrnięn related the spell that was cast to the sunny dragon and almost fell to the ground as a primal fury surged through their bond. Quickly closing it before he could become infected with Cïtirinus' rage, Gïrnięn gingerly opened it once more to calm Cïtirinus.
Woah, woah! Just calm down!
I will… identify this unknown… scum, and tear him into a thousand miniscule pieces, second by second, whilst burning him with my flame… no wait, that's too good for him…
You know, I have a good idea.
You have a more torturous way to do it?
No… Let's just stay away from burning and tearing into things, okay?
Anger and rage spilled over their bond, searing Gïrnięn's mind like the worst of flames.
Flames…
Out of nowhere, a giant, crackling noise sounds. Rushing to the window, Gïrnięn looked out as a large spout of yellow flame ascends into the sky, swirling, dancing, and crackling.
His first flames!
The pride of accomplishment warmed Gïrnięn's mind, but as the warmth faded, a cold unease pricked the back of his mind. Slowly, the pricking became ever more painful and ever frostier as it expanded in the back of his mind. A shadowy voice whispered:
Descendant of Shadeslayer, we come for you. Ready yourself…
Gïrnięn shivered. The voice was icy and tinged with malevolence, reminding him of a large reptile. A second voice, this one darker and more ancient, resounded in his mind.
When streaks of amber touch the sky,
And day is slain by night;
The traitor is your closest friend,
And dark will banish light.