Chapter XVII of Shadow, a work of fan fiction based on Christopher Paolini's InheritanceCycle.
Every Friday, a new chapter will be published, so keep checking!
I feel like I should edit a couple of chapters, my earlier, painfully short ones especially. Any suggestions (foreshadowing, fixing plotholes, fixing discontinuities, or even typos)? Make sure you tell me which chapter.
Reminder: The Illgrathr, or burrow grub, was a maggot-like creature found on Doru Araeba. When one was dropped onto organisms, it would unravel into tiny green centipedes that began tearing away at your flesh. It was used by Galbatorix to torture Nasuada.
Gïrnięn stared in the face of his impending doom—or, more accurately, its claws. As he watched, Shadow's claws bore down, the four triads of claws each in its own lethal shape, whether it was hooked, razor-sharp, serrated, or barbed. The hydra's dark and sickly giggling echoed in his mind.A wave of compressed air hit Gïrnięn, just as the barbed claw came down. Gïrnięn watched as the illgrathr that had squirmed under him while trying to feed splattered into a fine red mist.
Oh, pity, came Shadow's sickly voice. I should've waited, eh? Well, don't worry… I'll kill you anyway…
Shadow pounced again, but this time a streak of sunshine flashed through the night, latching onto Shadow's weakest head. The dark head snarled and turned around to bite Cïtirinus. Cïtirinus sent a wave of yellow energy crashing into the dark head. The dark head crashed back, hissing, as the gray head darted in and out, weaving through the turmoil, hitting Cïtirinus in fifty different spots. Cïtirinus growled, trying to bite back, but the armored, mechanical head twisted around, sinking needles into Cïtirinus' hackles.
Gïrnięn screamed and rushed in, hacking at Shadow. Solus-harmr almost cracked against the mechanical head's hide. Cïtirinus pulled back, shocked that the mechanism would be enough to crack even brightsteel.
What? Shadow's previously unconscious mind sparked to life, its mental voice strained. Made within the presence of the three only beings that know The Word, the three most powerful Riders ever, my hide is harder than Tinkledeath itself. Your sword should've shattered, if not cleaved into two!
Gïrnięn grunted, ignoring the mechanical head completely as he turned to hack at the other three heads, with much the same result. The four heads were completely ignoring Cïtirinus as they started to choke Cïtirinus, three heads holding him in place as the last slowly wrapped itself around his throat. Cïtirinus dropped to the ground, unconscious. Gïrnięn roared with fury and leaped forward, thrusting under the armored plates of Shadow's hide, feeling the sword penetrate flesh. Screaming, Shadow flapped its four pairs of wings and rose into the air.
Gïrnięn sighed heavily and looked back at Letæst. Letæst's silhouette in the moonlight seemed to be muttering, green veins glowing on its skull. Suddenly, Gïrnięn could sense things burrowing from underground.
A resonant tenor, unlike the sickly whispers of its minions, wafted from Letæst's throat, filling the city's great halls.
"This place has seen much death and destruction… Do you know how many died here? The only one I am not able to pull from death would be Thuviel, who has no body to use… All others, sentient or otherwise, shall rise…"
A booming laugh reverberated around the ruins, something familiar in its tone stirring within Gïrnięn. Hazy memories started surfacing. Letæst's booming voice snapped him back to reality. "Such a shame… to kill one of my blood…"
Gïrnięn looked around, to see rotting limbs reach out from the ground, desiccated frames pulling themselves up from their nameless graves. Shadow-birds flapped overhead, their bony frames levitated by nothing but magic, screeching ear-splitting calls. Burrow grubs rolled up from underground, blobby rolls of flesh virtually dripping from its bony hooks. And finally, the most terrifying, a giant, skeletal frame crawled from the ground, its flesh barely clinging to the bone. The undead dragon roared, the bony Eldunarí-structure in its chest pulsating with light.
Gïrnięn cursed under his breath. Muttering spells under his breath, Gïrnięn started wrapping wards around himself while swinging Solus-harmr in wide arcs. Red mist went up in clouds around him, splattering all over his tunic and trousers. Shadow growled in anger, pouncing. Gïrnięn muttered a quick spell and transported the seawater from nearby into Shadow's eyes. Gïrnięn then sent a quick jierda up at the shadow-birds, scattering their bones. He noticed his strength waning, then scattered the undead dragon with jierda.
Letæst, however, kept chanting his spell, the undead rejuvenating themselves to full strength and ideal forms. Letæst would play around with the form until he judged it would do the most damage to Gïrnięn. Gïrnięn sighed worryingly as the undead fell into piles of bone around him, and Shadow falling back to regain its breath. Gïrnięn glanced over at Letæst. The green veins had darkened into veins of darkness, stardust suspended in it. He muttered a final spell and the stardust faded, the veins darkening to swallow the moonlight around it. Gïrnięn swung back around to see the piles of bones clamping together on Shadow to form a twisted armor of a sorts, guarding all the kinks while still allowing maximum mobility. Shadow grinned, all four heads together, and pounced.
Gïrnięn fell to the ground, depraved of his energy reserves. Before his eyes closed, he vaguely saw a streak of sunlight floating up behind Shadow.
Gïrnięn was young. Very young, maybe four or five. He looked down at the wooden pieces he was handling, trying to place them in the correct order. Two men were speaking, towering over him. He focused on the wooden pieces, almost reaching the complete picture. One of the men was speaking. His voice was smooth and melodic, like clear water flowing calmly down to the ocean.
"Come now, you surely have the resources to look after a child-"
The other man cut him off, his voice gruff and rocky, like the majestic crags of The Spine.
"I don't understand. Why can't you take care of him? You're a Rider, for heaven's sakes! Plus, he's your child!"
Gïrnięn had almost finished the wooden puzzle. He moved the last piece into place.
"He understands too much, remembers too much. He may leak our secrets."
"How would he tell anyone?"
Gïrnięn had finished the puzzle. He referred to the thick tome beside him, decrypting and translating the message inscribed there.
"Trust me, he would do it. He loves translating and decrypting those messages I send."
"I'm a lord, cousin. I regret to say my office leaves me little time to interact with him."
Gïrnięn had finished. He read the decrypted, translated message to himself, instantly remembering it.
"Nonsense. You had interacted with Ismira quite well. Are you saying you would rather look after your daughter than your nephew?"
"Ismira is old enough to be Gïrnięn's mother, as you very well know. She is engaged already—do you want her to look bad if front of her future husband?"
Gïrnięn repeated the message to himself, savoring its taste. He had always liked words.
"Come on. You'll be retiring soon enough, won't you? Then you'll have plenty of time with Gïrnięn. If Gïrnięn is going to look bad to Ismira's future husband, then think up an excuse."
Gïrnięn smiled to himself. The message was so full of intricate words. "Deliver to me the casket. Ensure the relic is genuine. Remember, obsidian and gold. Also ensure that it has been dead for a while."
He sensed alarm in the first man's voice.
"What are you doing?"
"Cousin, what is that? What does that mean?"
"It means… a number of things… none that you have to worry about, of course."
Causally, the man set the paper alight. Gïrnięn watched helplessly as his delicate words smoldered. A gargling sound came from above him. Gïrnięn's words were gone. The man kicked the wooden pieces away.
"You've been a very bad boy, Gïrnięn…"
Wake up!
Gïrnięn jolted awake to see an undead elf glowing with green runes upon a Lethrblaka in front of him, a snarl plastered on his decaying face.