Chapter 8: Slavers and Waterfalls

Anri observed the horsemen galloping towards them with a critical eye. Rusted and battered weapons, clothes long past the age of their usefulness, greedy and evil faces. This was going to be trouble…

"The Varden are supposed to be a competent fighting force from what I understand," she started, drawing her sword before continuing. "These men are scavengers; bandits at best."

She watched Eragon shift Zar'roc in his hand, a nervous look in his eye. "If they threaten us, I can frighten them away with magic. If that doesn't work, there's Saphira. I wonder how they'd react to a Rider? So many stories have been told about their powers… It might be enough to avoid a fight," he suggested.

Murtagh shook his head, "don't count on it. If there's a fight we'll have to kill enough to convince them we're not worth the effort.

"Eragon," Anri said, getting his attention. "If you use your magic I'll follow suit, hopefully the shock factor of two magic users will be enough to scare them off." He nodded, which was enough for her.

With signals from his mace the group of horsemen encircled the small group with weapons drawn and arrows notched. The moment they were entirely surrounded the leader slowed to a halt and crossed his arms. He had a look in his eye that Anri had seen before. It was a look that promised pain solely for the benefit and pleasure for oneself. A moment flashed before her eyes, a woman in black clothes and armor with a strange almost beaked he was, he was nothing but trouble for them. The moment he opened his mouth she was proven right.

"Well!" He said with a cocky tone of voice, "these are better than the usual dregs we find! At least we got healthy ones this time. And we didn't even have to shoot them. Grieg will be pleased." The men surrounding them chuckled. She felt eyes all over her, mostly on her armor rather than her face. That didn't surprise her, they all probably figured that it'd fetch a high price if sold to the right person.

"Now, if you three would be so kind as to drop your weapons, you'll avoid being turned into living quivers by my men." The archers grinned suggestively, pulling their bows taught and drawing a cackle from the rest of the men. The leader locked eyes with her and his grin grew, "after all, it'd be a shame to damage such a pretty face." When her face pulled into a snarl his self-assured grin only grew.

Murtagh shifted his sword in his hand. "Who are you and what do you want? We are free men traveling through this land. You have no right to stop us."

"Oh, I have every right," said the man with danger in his voice. "And as for my name; slaves do not address their masters in that manner, unless they want to be beaten."

Anri's grip on her sword tightened in anger. The Age of Fire was home to many cruelties, and slavery was certainly one of them. She had seen the evidence in both Irithyll and Lothric, but the trade itself had died in both of those accursed cities long before she had made her journey. It was outlawed in Astora once upon a time, but thoughts of cities long past weren't of any help here.

When none of them moved to give up, the leader frowned, "Throw down your swords and surrender!" The air was growing tense; something was going to happen soon. This couldn't go on forever, and moments later something did happen.

Anri saw movement out of the corner of her eye; one of the slavers had dismounted and was sneaking towards the covered and hidden Arya. She knew that if the elf was revealed, any hope of them getting out of there without a fight was gone. But even then none of their options would end in a peaceful resolution, Letting the man discover the elf would end in a fight, Intervening now would end in a fight. Any other options were hidden from her at that moment. So as the tensions continued to rise, she decided to act.

With little fanfare Anri shifted her sword into her shield-hand and reached into her box. Breaking into a sprint would get her shot full of arrows, and while she was confident that her armor would take most of the damage, she wanted the element of surprise to stay with her. Just as she heard the leader begin to shout at her she pulled a kukri from her box. These small curved blades had been one of the primary reasons she was so low on repair powder. The skeletons in the Catacombs of Carthus seemed to have an unlimited supply of them, and she made sure to take as many as she could. As fast but as accurately as she could she threw the kukri, watching as it spun through the air until it lodged itself in the neck of the slaver who had just begun crouching to reveal Arya. He didn't even make so much as a gurgle before he fell backwards, clutching helplessly at his neck. She didn't need to make sure he was dead, no normal human would survive a wound like that.

Not even a moment later all hell broke loose. Murtagh gave a particularly vicious death to a slaver; crushing him under the hooves of Tornac. Just as the men got ready to fight, Anri saw Eragon throw a burning ball of blue magic and heard the now familiar roar of Saphira as she slammed into the ground. Wasting no time she cast her own lightning spear and struck an archer who was aiming at Murtagh. The man was launched from his horse and was thrown a good fifteen feet, dying before he hit the ground.

Eragon mounted Saphira as fast as he could. "Behold!" yelled Eragon over the scene before him, "I am a Rider!" He raised Zar'roc over his head, the red blade dazzling in the sunlight. "Flee if you wish to live!" The slavers panicked, shouting incoherently and scrambling over each other in their haste to escape with their lives. In the confusion, their leader was struck in the temple with a javelin. He tumbled and rolled to the ground, stunned. None of his men spared him a glance, too focused on fleeing in terror while casting Saphira glances as if she was about to pounce on them. Anri kept an eye on them as they fled towards the horizon, not one slaver made any move to turn back and eventually the last speck vanished from sight.

"No!" Eragon shouted, causing Anri to whip around. The leader of the slavers slumped to the ground, and a second later his head landed with a wet thump before rolling a few feet away. Murtagh was wiping his blade on the dead man's clothes, so that question was answered before she even asked it. She was about to turn back around before Eragon started yelling. Very quickly the two boys got into another argument. Eragon's was for empathy and mercy while Murtagh's was for logic and secrecy. She very nearly tuned them out again until…

"Anri, please tell me you agree," Eragon said, red in the face.

She was quiet for a moment, looking away before meeting the Rider's gaze. "I don't. If Murtagh didn't I probably would've killed him myself…"

Eragon recoiled as if struck. "You too!? I thought that being a knight would instill some kind of mercy!"

Irritation welled within her before she squashed it back down. Eragon was very quickly learning the way the world worked, but it still didn't change the fact that he was still young and inexperienced. He was learning and growing, yes, but that didn't change the facts. "It's precisely because I'm a knight that I would've killed him. He was a slaver, and an experienced one. If he survived, if," she emphasized, "then he would've simply gone back to his trade; ruining peoples' lives because it made him a profit. By your own logic, with my station as a knight I have a duty to execute him for his own atrocities. And I would have the authority as well!"

"No. No, it was still the wrong thing to do." Even as he said the words though she could see the conflict in his eyes. She really, honestly hoped he would still have that spark of humanity in him when all of this was over. "I… We can't keep dallying here. Let's move." He received two nods and they continued on their course.

For a time it was just Anri, the unconscious elf, and Murtagh. Eragon had taken some time to fly with Saphira and minutes later they were scant dots in the sky. Anri took the time to check in on Arya, and she didn't like what she was seeing. The poison that plagued the elf was very insidious, while it was beaten back by Anri's miracles it only seemed to come back faster each time. It was like the poison saw her miracles as an affront and wanted to kill the elf just that much faster. By the looks of it they had days, if that. She would have to bring it up with Eragon and Murtagh when they were all together. For now Anri settled for replacing the damp rag on the elf's forehead with a cold one. Even in the chilling air she only burned warmer. Other than that there wasn't anything that Anri could do, lest the elf suddenly decide to wake up.

Standing up; Anri stretched and sat back down by Mira before doing some basic maintenance on her weapons. Every once in a while though she would see Murtagh glancing at her, like he wanted to talk to her about something. He looked troubled, and had been for some time now ever since they made camp. Normally she wouldn't worry too much, but she was genuinely beginning to consider Murtagh to be a steadfast friend. If he was troubled by something she would find it in herself to do something about it.

"What's on your mind?" She asked, looking up from her sword. Murtagh jumped slightly, apparently caught off guard by her sudden question.

"…It's nothing." He said after a few moments, blatantly lying.

Anri frowned. "It most certainly isn't, judging by the way you keep glancing at me."

"It's personal," was his too-fast response. Anri's frown only deepened.

"If it truly is, then I won't press. But if it's truly bothering you then you can tell me. I'm the last person that can judge." The air between them was silent for some moments. After a minute Anri gave a light sigh and went back to sharpening her sword.

"My father…" Anri looked up, halting all motion. Murtagh continued before she could say anything or before he could stop himself. "My father was Morzan, the first and last of the Forsworn…" And so he told her. Murtagh was the son of one of the greatest criminals ever to walk the earth, and for a significant period of his life he had served King Galbatorix and with an abusive drunkard father. He told her of the night he ran away, when he learned and saw the king for what he really was, and how his mentor and teacher was killed before his very eyes. He finished his tale by telling her how he went into hiding in Dras Leona and eventually found Eragon. Again there was a heavy silence between the two of them, where Anri stared at her sword in contemplation, and Murtagh stared at Anri with anxiety.

"That must've been hard to talk about, thank you for telling me," she eventually decided to say.

Murtagh blinked in shock, then looked at her like she had grown a second head. "That's it?!" he nearly yelled. "You just learned that I'm the son of a monster!"

"Exactly. You're Morzan's son, not Morzan himself." She sighed and put her sword down, turning to Murtagh fully. "You are the sum of your own actions, not someone else's. Do you want to know what I see when I look at you?" She didn't give him a chance to say anything, "I see someone who's trying to atone for a past they couldn't control. And that's what it is, the past. You recognized the king for what he really was, you chose to flee him rather than do his will, but even that doesn't matter. What matters is the here and now. By your own claims the Varden would kill you for retribution, yet you're coming with us anyways. You could've left Eragon behind at Gil'ead but you chose to endanger yourself and rescue him. You could've kept all of this to yourself, but you chose to tell me."

"The same blood is in my veins," Murtagh weakly said.

"And it's your life that he gave you. Your future. Consider yourself lucky that you can choose for yourself what you want to do with it. Not everyone can." Her own experiences, her duty, flashed before her eyes.

For another minute or so there was silence again before he eventually spoke. "I can't tell Eragon this, not yet." He saw Anri's frown. "I will tell him, but not now."

"The longer you wait the worse it'll be. You're smart enough to know that."

Before either of them could say anything else they heard string wingbeats; Eragon and Saphira were back.

"We have an issue" Eragon said as he jumped off of Saphira.

"What now?" Murtagh asked curtly, Anri sent him a look but he just shook his head. Not now.

"The Urgals are overtaking us." She almost wanted to dispute that, but when she followed his outstretched arm she could very faintly see dust on the horizon kicked up from a marching army.

"How…" she muttered to herself, not looking away.

"How much further do we have to go?" Murtagh was already getting on Tornac as they spoke.

"Five days, but at the pace we've been traveling I'd say three. It doesn't matter though, the Urgals will overtake us if we don't get there by tomorrow."

Murtagh gave a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "How can you expect us to do that? We've already gone days without adequate sleep. Unless Riders are made of different stuff than us mortals, you're as tired as I am. Anri's the only one who can go completely without! We've already covered a staggering distance, and the horses, in case you haven't noticed, are ready to drop! Another day of this might kill us all. Going even faster would."

Eragon mounted Snowfire. "So be it, we don't have a choice."

Murtagh pitched the idea of him leaving and dividing the Urgals' attention but that was quickly shot down. She didn't have any plans that would work either, and a self-sacrifice to kill as many as she could would be useless even if it did by them time. She could do something though, even if it would be a drain on her precious few resources. Still though… What choice did they have? She turned back to them just as they finished talking.

"I might have a temporary solution, it won't last forever but it should get us to where we need to go."

Murtagh and Eragon looked on in anticipation as she reached into her box and pulled out some green blossoms. She handed two to both of them before mounting her own horse. "Eat one and give the other to your horse. They have properties that restore one's stamina. It won't substitute for actual sleep and rest…"

"But it'll give us the boost we need. Right." Eragon finished for her, hesitating slightly before shoving the plant in his mouth. His face turned in a grimace but his eyes widened shortly after. "That's incredible! How many of those do you have?" Seeing his reaction Murtagh did the same, and both fed the remaining blossoms to their horses.

"Very few. I only found them in a few places and I didn't bother stockpiling. They'll last for a few hours each, but I only have enough for a few doses."

Eragon nodded. "We'll use them sparingly then. Let's go."

They rode with newfound determination and strength, and where they would've struggled to stay ahead of the Urgals they were now able to reliably keep ahead of them. Still though, the Urgals were faster, and didn't seem to worry about resting at all. And even with the energy boosts the group was still horribly fatigued. Like before, the two boys slept while she led their horses on through the night. Unfortunately though, Eragon was making mistakes; whether it be from unclear directions or lack of sleep Anri couldn't tell. What mattered was that those mistakes were costing them precious time. By the next day they had reached a forested valley, but the distance between them and the Urgals was closing in on a league. If they didn't do something soon all of their efforts would be for nothing. While Eragon and Murtagh talked about what to do Anri set a small trap. All she did was rig a few firebombs to a taut wire, and it probably wouldn't do much to delay the army, but there was a chance that it would. At this point she'd take that chance.

They rode ahead until eventually Eragon and Saphira returned. Something was wrong though. Eragon was pale and sweaty and she barely caught him as he stumbled from Saphira's saddle.

"What happened?" Murtagh asked as he ran to them.

"…I made a mistake," said Eragon regretfully. "The Urgals have entered the valley. I tried to confuse them, but I forgot one of the rules of magic, and it nearly killed me." They talked some more when Murtagh came to a startling discovery.

"Kull!" Murtagh cursed under his breath "I should have guessed that the chieftain had been put in charge of them. They don't ride because horses can't carry their weight—not one of them is under eight feet tall—and they can run for days without sleep and still be ready for battle. It can take five men to kill one. Kull never leave their caves except for war, so they must expect a great slaughter if they are out in such force."

"Brings back unpleasant memories…" Anri muttered, drawing a look from all three of her companions. "The Age of Fire was home to many monstrosities, I'm used to fighting opponents like these 'Kull,' but that's neither here nor there. Can we outpace them?"

"Who knows? We may have to fight them, and if we do I don't think we'd be able to win even with Saphira."

"What about the Varden? Won't they have men posted nearby?"

Eragon shook his head. "We can't bet on help that may or may not come. Do you have any more of those blossoms, Anri?"

"One," she grimaced, but handed it over anyway. No one could dispute that he needed it the most, even if he needed it because of his own foolishness.

"How's Arya?" Eragon asked after eating the last of her blossoms.

Anri casted a miracle before observing the elf. It barely even helped this time. "Not good. This poison is actively resisting my miracles and I fear that soon they won't be of any help.

"How long does she have?"

Anri shrugged. "Days? Maybe one? Her strength is failing her at a staggering pace."

All of a sudden there was a faint 'boom' in the distance followed by the howls and angered shouts of the pursuing Kull. Very quickly it was followed by a horn.

"They found my trap," Anri laughed. "And it doesn't sound like they're too happy about it. We should go."

They rode through the night as Eragon and Saphira took to the skies. It was becoming clear that Murtagh was getting more and more anxious as time went on, as no matter how far they went there wasn't an exit to the valley for him to make his escape. At one point they heard great crashes, and turned to see Saphira dropping large boulders onto their pursuers, drawing a laugh from Murtagh and a grin from Anri. As the night deepened the cold set in, and Anri was forced to draw a large cloak from her box to cover the elf. She couldn't do anything other than that to keep her warm, if only she were a pyromancer! At long last they broke out of the forest and into a clearing. In the distance they could hear the roar of a waterfall. Just ahead of them were Saphira and Eragon, but they couldn't afford the time to slow down until they actually reached them. And it was there that they learned that the only place they could go… Was to the Varden.

Murtagh took the news about as well as she could expect and the two went back and forth for precious minutes before Murtgah stormed in her direction. He was panicked, she could tell. Both of them knew what would happen if he went through with this, but regardless this was their only way forward.

"I don't know what to do," he told her in a surprising moment of vulnerability. "They'll imprison me at best, and I know that there'll be an outcry for my head."

"I won't let them kill you. You know Eragon won't either."

"Yeah, well, he doesn't know who I really am though does he?"

Anri gave him a stern look. "Then tell him." Before he could respond Eragon called out for them.

"Murtagh," said Eragon earnestly, "unless you wish to die, we must go to the Varden. Don't let me walk into their arms without knowing how they will react to you. It's going to be dangerous enough without unnecessary surprises!"

Murtagh looked at her helplessly, and all she did was nod her head as if giving him permission.

With a shaky nod to her, Murtagh turned to Eragon. His breathing was hard and fast, like that of a cornered animal. He paused, then said with a tortured voice, "You have a right to know. I… I am the son of Morzan, first and last of the Forsworn."

Saphira crashed through trees and brush moments later as she barreled from the river to Eragon's side, fangs bared and tail raised threateningly. "You are his heir?" asked Eragon, reaching for Zar'roc. He gave Anri a stunned look as her hand reached for her own sword. "You knew?!"

"Don't turn your anger on her! I didn't choose this!" cried Murtagh, anguish twisting his face. He pulled his shirt off, showing them an angry and ugly scar. He told them of his father's drunken rage, how the sword that Eragon now carried himself had nearly killed him, and he pleaded that he had no love for the empire. Soon though, a horn rang out and all of them were forced to continue their flight. The entire time they rode Eragon tried to rationalize Murtagh's presence, tried to find some malicious reason as to why he would be with them, but no matter what he said it was shot down. Anri could clearly hear the waterfall now, and all of a sudden they came to the end of the forest. A great lake glistened in the night, covering nearly the entire valley. If they weren't being pursued she would take the time to admire its beauty, but as it was the lake was an obstacle.

"There!" Eragon pointed, on each side of the lake was a small pebbled path; no more than a few steps wide. That was their path forward, but they would have to lead the horses on foot.

Anri turned to Eragon as she dismounted, "the falls?"

"Yes!"

They were just over halfway across when Murtagh called out behind them, "Urgals!"

On the shore they had left scant minutes before came the hulking figures of their pursuers. They muttered and pointed in their guttural language before splitting into two groups, one going to each path.

Anri shouted, readying a miracle, "They're trying to cut us off! The only way through is forward!" The next second she hurled her lightning spear at the lead Urgal, sending him into his comrades. It only gave them a few seconds before they shoved his body into the lake and continued.

"No!" She heard Eragon shout, followed by Saphira flying overhead and diving on one of the columns, dragging a helpless Kull into the air before viciously killing it and dropping the corpse into the lake below. Her attack was followed by a swarm of arrows before she dove into the lake. Anri stopped watching after she hurled another spear, turning in time to see Eragon stumble. She caught him by the arm and hauled him to his feet, letting him go when he gave her a tired nod. They pulled the horses along until they were a couple of yards from the waterfall itself. The pathway had widened into a small beach as well, so now they had some room to maneuver if it came to a fight. The noise of the waterfall was deafening, she could barely hear Eragon as he yelled out in the Ancient Language. She barely saw his distraught face when an injured Saphira leapt out of the water, fangs bared and ready to fight.

Anri caught movement from the corner of her eye; the lead Kull of their column was in a mad sprint for Murtagh, with a massive spear ready to skewer him like a pig. She barely shoved him out of the way before the Kull reached them, shield raised to deflect the attack. There was a horrible wrenching noise as crude and evil steel met Astoran-forged titanite, but thankfully her shield held out. With the Kull now off-balance she capitalized on the opening and thrusted her sword into the Kull's sternum until it reached its crossguard. She planted her foot against the body and shoved it off, readying herself for the inevitable fight. Eragon raised his palm, shouting, "Jierda theirra kalfis!" Sharp cracks resounded off the cliff as twenty of the charging Urgals fell into the lake, howling and clutching their legs when their bones suddenly wrenched and snapped.

She raised her shield as a hail of arrows descended on the group, wincing as she heard them ricochet and dent her battered shield and crying out as an errant arrow lodged itself in her thigh. Pain streaked through her leg and she dropped to a knee, barely raising her shield again as another volley was fired at the group.

"Anri!" She didn't know who shouted it, but suddenly she was hauled to her feet and back towards Saphira. "The Varden are on the other side of the waterfall, we have to go through!" She nodded her affirmative as she yanked the arrow out of her thigh, wincing and shoving the pain down as far as she could. Usually arrows didn't affect her that much, but it was no Silver Knight so she would survive. "Now!" she heard Eragon shout, and before she could think of how bad of an idea it was to jump through a waterfall in full armor she was already doing it. She could barely move, and resorted to crawling on the bottom of the rocks with a hope that she would reach the other side before drowning. It was made even more difficult by the wound in her thigh, but before she could do much more she was hauled out of the water.

"Are you mad?! Jumping in the waterfall with all that armor?!" She could barely hear who was speaking to her as she tore her helmet off and sucked in as much air as she could. She briefly took note of her rescuer; a diminutive but stockily built man with a long beard, before looking around the new place she found herself in. She saw a cadre of men and more short people, Saphira, and Murtagh being hauled to his feet by a man in purple robes, but she didn't see Eragon!

"Eragon!" The man who rescued her looked at her like she had lost her mind but she continued anyway. "T-There was a third among us! He's not here, he must still be in the water!" The man—dwarf?—cursed in a strange tongue before diving back into the water. Moments later he emerged with a coughing Eragon in tow.

"Akh Guntéraz dorzâda! What were they thinking? You would have drowned!" Eragon jerked in surprise; it wasn't Murtagh or Anri who pulled him out, but a dwarf! A second later a familiar face framed by golden hair filled his vision, worry in her eyes. Anri began fussing over him and checking for any wounds that he might've gotten. Briefly he was reminded of a sister worrying over her little brother. "Gwyn preserve me! When I noticed you weren't here with us I thought you'd died!"

She helped him to his feet, but winced and shook slightly before continuing herself. "I'm fine, just an arrow." She waved away his worries but they didn't leave entirely.

Eragon took in his surroundings. Two twelve-foot-thick stone doors had opened in the cliff; revealing a broad tunnel nearly thirty feet tall that burrowed its way into the mysterious depths of the mountain. A line of flameless lamps filled the passageway with a pale blue light that spilled out onto the lake. Saphira and Murtagh stood before the tunnel, surrounded by a mix of men and dwarves. At Murtagh's side was a tall man in ornate purple and golden robes, holding a knife to his friend's throat.

Eragon tried to ready his magic, exhausted as he was. "Stop! If you use magic, I'll kill your lovely friend here, who was so kind as to mention you're a Rider. Don't think I won't know if you're drawing upon it. You can't hide anything from me. The same goes for you!" He said to Anri, who had a dangerous look on her face he hadn't seen before. "I know all about that lightning of yours. Eragon tried to speak, but the man snarled and pressed the dagger harder against Murtagh's throat. A thin bead of blood rolled down his neck. "None of that! If you say or do anything I don't tell you to, I will kill him. Now, everyone inside." He backed into the tunnel, pulling Murtagh with him and keeping his eyes on the two of them.

"Saphira, what should I do?" Eragon asked quickly as the group of men and dwarves followed Murtagh's captor, leading the three horses along with them.

"Go with them," she said reassuringly. "and hope that we live." Saphira entered the tunnel herself, and reluctantly Eragon followed after them with a limping Anri in tow.

"I can't heal myself or Murtagh might die. If we get into a fight it won't be pretty." Anri whispered to him as she fell in line with him. No more words were said as his rescuer stepped next to them, hand on his axe. Utterly spent, Eragon staggered into the mountain. When he nearly stumbled he was caught by a firm hand on his shoulder, he looked up to see Anri smiling sadly at him. The stone doors swung shut behind them with only a whisper of sound. He looked back and saw a seamless wall where the opening had been. They were trapped inside. But Eragon didn't feel any safer. He hoped that they didn't trade one foe for another.

And Done!

Finally we're putting the Desert behind us, and we're moving to Farthen Dûr! The First Main Arc is officially over, and the real fun can now begin! I wasn't the happiest with this chapter, but I felt that I got in a good heart-to-heart with Murtagh and Anri. This is also the moment when there are going to be some slight shifts from the main story. Nothing too major, but we're going to see some familiar and unfamiliar characters that weren't here before. We're also getting very close to the first actual meeting between Arya and Anri, and I know that a few of you are excited for that!

There's not much else I have to say other than that. The next chapter might be a while though, since I'm going to update my other crossover first, but I'm not planning on taking too long. This chapter wasn't that much, but I hope you haven't grown bored with the story, because like I've said before, this is where things really get interesting! And I won't spoil anything, but I will say that there will be another character from Dark Souls in Farthen Dûr. I'll leave that up to you guys to guess, hehe.

Other than that I don't have anything left to say, thanks for reading and I'll see you soon~