Chapter XII 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!
I'm thinking about changing the title, if you're interested in voting, please enter a suggestion in the comments. I will pick one to change my title to. Alternatively, you can vote to keep the title the same. Thanks for your support!
Because today is a triple vernal equinox, supermoon, and solar eclipse, I've decided to introduce a new species, or race, as they are known in the Inheritance Cycle. Something a little macabre, in profuse amounts. Also, enjoy the tripe weave of perspectives!
I have to give Neil Gaiman's Coraline some credit for part of the Volans Scolopendra.
Orœthmis was lost in his ancestral home. In the labyrinth, after the secret of the corpse was revealed, suddenly the ceiling had collapsed. Tons of earth had buried him. He shivered, remembering his lungs slowly collapsing, the cold earth compressing them to their limit. A deep dweller had dug him out, nursed his bruised body back to health. The deep dweller, Hadrik, sent out a call for Orœthmis' clan, the honored Dûrgrimst Ebardac: the Dwarf Clan dedicated to research. Traveling to his ancestral home had been hard enough, even with the series of guides the deep dweller had led him to. Now, after having successfully arrived, he needed to find Gïrnięn and the others. He remembered finding his parents that night, and his mother's delight at seeing him again. His father had just shook his head and asked if he'd failed somehow. Orœthmis shook his head thinking about it. Leaving his parents to their alchemy and studies, he had packed supplies and journeyed into the heart of the mountain. Now, he sat and wailed in despair, looking at the seemingly endless grid of tunnels. The darkness was only illuminated by only a small lantern Orœthmis was carrying. After what seemed like years, Orœthmis stood and packed his belongings. Then he heard the rasping call of the voice, the voice that had been gone for so long. It whispered in his mind, seeking to control him, venom dripping from its every word.
So… we meet again…
Gïrnięn was flying over Surda, his head churning. Ever since he had found Jinaë, Shadow had crept back into his mind, whispering its ever venomous words, hissing at Gïrnięn's every decision. Even the decision to leave Orœthmis and Ÿreven to their own devices and go to the place where Eragon had told all his students where they could contact him if they were ever traveling.
So… enjoyed that lull, did you? Don't you worry, I was only taking care of some other prey.
Who?
Your little… dwarf friend. He is already… controlled…
Gïrnięn wanted to scream. Desperately. Even as the desert passed beneath him, he still felt cold. Too cold.
Ssss… Now… the Volans Scolopendra will come soon… And guarantee your death…
Cïtirinus barged into his mind. Look down!
Gïrnięn looked down and took in a breath. The land in front of him was scorched and burned, tongues of searing flame leaping from the ground like some sort of a predatory animal awaiting its prey. This was the land of the epic first battle between Murtagh and Eragon. They had arrived at the Burning Plains.
Ÿreven looked up at the sky. He was exhausted, and he didn't think Asterdiopsidus was exactly energetic, working day and night to reach the Spine. In the labyrinth, once the corpse had been commanded by Jinaë, he got sucked into the floor. He shivered, remembering the dank smell of the chute hidden beneath it, where he had slid for almost hours. Asterdiopsidus had found him in the northwestern Beors, and had tried to fly him to his family. Rage swelled up within Ÿreven when he thought of the incident. He had failed Firesword's assignment! And now he would return in shame, being the laughingstock of everyone.
It won't be that bad.
Asterdiopsidus' consciousness was most easily visualized by Ÿreven as an infinite black pool, stretching in every direction. His consciousness seemed to swim in the molasses-like liquid, calmed by the endless stretch of ebony.
Yes, it will. You know almost nothing of our honor.
After what you've been through, I would rest at simply being safe. That's most important, isn't it?
Yes… I guess…
Well, well… Look who we have here! Another victim ready for slaughter… as Lord Letæst has commanded…
Ÿreven immediately recognized the mocking tones of Shadow. While Asterdiopsidus' darkness was soothing and calming, Shadow's malevolent aura made the hairs on the giant's neck stand up.
You again! Ÿreven was taken aback; Asterdiopsidus never got angry. Not ever since Ÿreven had known him.
What are you doing here? Asterdiopsidus spat "you" out like it was a piece of carrion he'd almost swallowed.
Don't worry: I'm just here to trigger the swarm.
Just like that, Shadow was gone. Ÿreven looked up, then blinked. A dark cloud was approaching, and it seemed that it was moving of its own volition. Then he saw the suckers.
Orœthmis bumped into a stalactite. The sudden return of Shadow was too much for him. Spinelius, noticing his concern, voiced a distant thought.
You're back?
Yes… if only to trigger the swarms…
Fight me, you scum!
Waves of dismissiveness washed over the mental contact. Really… All of my siblings are the same, foolish bravado clouding their rational judgement.
Siblings? Orœthmis tried to shut that thought down, but Shadow had noticed it already.
Ah… yes, carelessness on my side. I apologize for that. Now…
A mental claw grasped at Orœthmis' brain, trying to grasp it and leach all its information. Fighting back, Spinelius added his strength to the battle. Orœthmis extended his own mental appendage, clawing at Shadow's malevolent mind. Eventually, Shadow relented.
Ssss… It's all right… the Volans Scolopendra will come soon…
The what?
Dark pulses of mental laughter emanated from Shadow's mind. Don't worry, you'll get acquainted with the locust-scorpion-centipede-leeches soon enough…
Locust-scorpion-centipede leeches?
They breed at a miraculous rate. Their queen has directed her swarm to you. Don't worry, they'll come to you soon enough.
Shadow had disappeared.
Orœthmis looked up at the stalactites instinctively. Miniature black clouds started swarming through the cracks in the rock. The clouds churned and boiled, swarming down upon Orœthmis. Screams could be heard by the deep dwellers that night
Cïtirinus landed, Chrosiuä following suit. As Gïrnięn dismounted and surveyed the landscape, a tongue of flame spurted up from the ground a few centimeters away. Jumping away in shock, Gïrnięn then recovered his wits and looked around for the object. Wandering around in a drunkard's walk, he surveyed the land, searching for the bugle. Finally, he spotted it. A simple instrument, the bugle was made of light aluminum, etched with glyphs that spelled out Eragon's name.
He picked it up and blew into it. Then he waited. And waited.
This is strange.
What?
Eragon-ebrithil's should appear in the ground by now—the bugle was enchanted with the Word.
So, why isn't he showing up?
Wait… what's that?
Gïrnięn was looking into the sky while thinking. A strange cloud drifted across the sky, faster than it should have. The cloud swooped down, coming at Gïrnięn. Trying to avoid the cloud, Gïrnięn stepped backward, slipping on the scorched ground and nearly falling into a blazing crack. Then he saw the things that made up the swarm and wished he hadn't. Each organism was fleshy and bulbous, covered by a thin shell. Four wings, two hard shields, two translucent ones designed for flying, flapped, protruding from the creature's armored back. The thing had a stinger at its end, two pincers at its front, and millions of tiny legs in between. It had antennae, long and spindly, that were constantly rotating, seeking food. Its mouth was a ring surrounded by revolving teeth. It was obviously meant to suck blood. But the worst part was its eyes. They had a striking resemblance to black buttons, and they seemed dead. A creepy, grotesque smile was printed on its back, seemingly to scare off predators. It worked. Cïtirinus immediately flapped over, burning them with a searing flame. They creatures fell to the ground, defeated. Gïrnięn was still uneasy.
You know… that seemed too easy… You'd think Shadow would send more dangerous assassins.
Afterwards, Gïrnięn would curse himself for thinking that, for, right before his very eyes, the insects began to rise. Their scorched, charred remains stared unblinkingly at him, twin emerald fires blazing in its button-eyes.