I do not own any part of the Harry Potter or Eragon universes.
The sun sparkled over the horizon, and Harry pressed himself tightly against Artemis as they followed Oromis and Glaedr. They flew northward, tracing the rocky massif that slithered like a snake through the ancient forest.
"You're happy," Artemis observed as Harry's enthusiasm overflowed onto her.
Harry smiled brightly and relished the wind accompanying them. "I am. I never thought someone would choose me for this... Me, a godfather!"
Artemis snorted, and a black plume of smoke billowed from her nostrils, carried away by the wind.
"I don't like it when you talk about yourself that way, Harry."
Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"
In flight, Artemis turned her head towards Harry, gazing at him with her deep blue eyes.
"Your self-doubt!" Artemis growled. "You've achieved so much, and yet you're still surprised when someone wants you in their life. Lily should consider herself lucky to have you as a godfather. There's no one better suited for it than you."
She turned away, looking forward again. "One day, we'll have our own family. And this is just the beginning."
Harry leaned forward, his arms lovingly encircling her neck.
"Family, huh?" he murmured, his lips forming a warm smile.
In front of them, Glaedr spread his wings, and together they landed in a clearing above the rocky massif. A path led from the edge of the rocks to a low wooden hut that grew from the earth between four trees.
Harry dismounted from Artemis and followed Oromis and Eragon. Before them a narrow stream flowed that wound around one of the four trees, allowing them to use the massive roots as a bridge.
"Welcome to the Crags of Tel'naeír," Oromis said. "This is my home, away from the Elven cities, where it's easier for me to maintain a clear mind, and I can contemplate in peace whatever comes to my mind."
Oromis disappeared into his hut, and Eragon began tapping his foot anxiously. Harry nudged Eragon in the side, and he looked at him, perplexed.
"Don't be so nervous, Eragon. You're here to learn, not to prove yourself," Harry chuckled. "Take a deep breath and try to relax your muscles. I can see from here that you're as tense as a drawn bowstring."
Eragon nodded, and Harry saw from the corner of his eye that Eragon took several deep breaths, visibly relaxing.
It didn't take long for Oromis to return, carrying three stools and three jugs of water. Harry sat down and accepted the jug gratefully. The water was refreshing, but he would have preferred tea.
From this vantage point, Harry had a magnificent view of Du Weldenvarden. The massive trees stretched out before him in all directions, and there seemed to be no end to the forest.
"I wonder how big the Forbidden Forest would be in comparison... I spent so much time at Hogwarts and never thought of flying over the forest on my Firebolt," Harry mumbled to Artemis.
"Maybe it's for the best, who knows what could have happened. Not without reason did no one venture into the forest except Hagrid. And Hagrid was-," Artemis began.
"He was special," Harry finished with a smile.
He turned his attention back to Oromis, who had closed his eyes. He sat silently as if he were a statue, and only his white robe fluttered in the wind. Artemis lay down behind Harry on the ground, using Occlumency to calm herself and hide her own excitement.
While Eragon looked at Oromis with reverence, he also began to look around over time, letting his gaze wander over the forests, even though Saphira, with her claws, was stirring up the ground restlessly. It took a few minutes for Saphira to calm down, but she also lay down, although her eyes occasionally darted in Glaedr's direction.
The wait didn't bother Harry. When he spent summers at the Dursleys', he often had nothing to do and had to spend his time differently, which meant spending time with Hedwig or, when she wasn't there, staring at the wall opposite his bed.
The gentle breeze ruffled his hair, carrying with it a bittersweet mix of scents - the earthy smell of the forest floor, the sweet fragrance of wildflowers, and the faint aroma of fire.
The midday sun had slowly moved on when Oromis finally opened his eyes and broke the silence.
"Very well, both of you. You both understand the virtue of patience," Oromis said, his tone warm and understanding.
Eragon agreed, saying, "A hunter without patience is as useless as a sword without its hilt."
Oromis set down his jug as the silence was broken by a snore. Oromis blinked in surprise and turned to Harry, who had his eyes closed. Harry sat cross-legged on the stool, supporting his head with his hand.
"Is he asleep?" Eragon asked, amused with wide eyes.
"It seems so," Oromis smiled gently. "Come into my hut, Eragon. I would like to get to know each other better, and it is generally better for that when it is just the two of us having a conversation."
Time passed slowly, and the birds that had last sung by the stream had flown away when Artemis stirred and thumped her tail on the ground. Suddenly, Harry jerked upright, his head taking a moment to register where he was. His ears turned red, and he looked apologetically at Oromis.
"I'm sorry, I couldn't sleep much last night."
A peculiar sound came from Artemis's throat, a sound the two Dragon Riders knew well: the laughter of a dragon. Harry turned to Artemis and glared at her, but she grinned, baring her white teeth.
"Only a well-rested mind can face the challenges the day brings," Oromis said gently. "I appreciate that my presence doesn't bother you, but you should be mindful that it doesn't happen too often."
Harry nodded sheepishly. "Yes, Oromis-"
Oromis shook his head. "It is Master Oromis in your language, and the same courtesy shall be extended to Glaedr, for we are your teachers, and you both shall show us the respect that is due to us."
Harry took a deep breath, and Oromis turned to him with a raised eyebrow.
"Do you have any objections, Harry?" he asked with a curious tone.
Harry ran a hand over his face. "Did Sirius tell you about the Death Eaters and Voldemort?"
Oromis frowned. "We discussed it."
"Then you also know how they worshipped Voldemort with his title? I had to witness several Death Eaters kneeling before Voldemort, addressing him as their Master," explained Harry. "It's not easy for me to address someone like that, especially when many wizards and witches used the title to address a murderer. I don't like it."
Oromis raised his hands placatingly. "Harry, I won't force you to address me that way, especially if it makes you uncomfortable. Allow me to make a suggestion: in the ancient language, it is called Ebrithil. Would that be a suitable alternative for you?"
Harry nodded gratefully. "Yes, I appreciate that, Ebrithil. I hope I'm not causing you any trouble with this."
Oromis reached out with a hand and touched Harry on his shoulder. "When it comes to the comfort of my students, any inconvenience is acceptable," he said, withdrawing his arm from Harry.
"Do you think we should tell Oromis about my Potion lessons with Snape?" Harry asked Artemis.
"Better not, Harry!" she said, and Harry suppressed a grin as he noticed her desperately stifling a snort.
Harry looked around slowly and blinked when he didn't find the other dragon rider.
"Where is Eragon?" Harry asked anxiously.
"Eragon and I spoke in my house while you... let's say you were not reachable," Oromis explained. "He is currently busy reawakening his abilities in reading and writing."
"Show me your hands, Harry! As I told Eragon before, I believe that hands can reveal a lot about a person."
Harry nodded uncertainly and allowed Oromis to grasp his wrists with his slender fingers. Oromis examined his palms closely and said, "Forgive me if I am wrong: you have only recently started wielding a sword, and the bow is unfamiliar to you."
Harry nodded. "Brom taught me in Carvahall for several months until we had a little disagreement, and after that, I have practised on my own."
Oromis's eyes lit up. "Is that so? I'm glad my old student is doing well."
Harry stared at Oromis with an open mouth. "Brom was your student?"
"Yes, he was," Oromis said absentmindedly. "I see you have written a lot in your life, but you prefer to keep it rather brief."
"I had to write a lot during my time at Hogwarts if that's what you mean. Especially Professor McGonagall always wanted pages of parchment," Harry groaned out.
"She was your Transfiguration teacher if I recall correctly. I think Sirius mentioned her name before," Oromis said curiously.
"That's right."
Oromis then continued, "You face every danger, especially when your recklessness can protect the lives of your loved ones."
"How do you know that?" Harry asked bewildered. Oromis gently pulled up the sleeve on Harry's right arm that covered the scar the basilisk had given him.
"Anyone with as many scars as you have is either the unluckiest person, fights like a berserker, or seeks danger. And I doubt you fight like a berserker- you don't have the stature for it, and you lack the required ferocity."
Harry thought back to his time at Hogwarts and the many adventures he had experienced since Hagrid had broken down the door of the hut when the Dursleys desperately fled from the owl post.
It seemed so long ago when Hagrid had told him, that he was a wizard.
"I wouldn't say I'm an unlucky person, but fate has no trouble putting obstacles in my way," Harry replied slowly, his gaze lingering on Artemis.
"And if a person dear to me is in danger, I won't shy away from any danger and will do everything in my power to protect them."
"And that means you would sacrifice yourself for the greater good? If it protected those close to you?"
Harry froze. He clenched his fist and closed his eyes.
"Harry Potter... The Boy Who Lived... has come to die."
"I would," Harry whispered.
"I won't allow that. No more," Artemis declared with a growl.
Oromis scrutinized Harry for a long moment.
"In many ways, you and Eragon are very similar, Harry. Both of you would take great risks to protect those you deem worthy of protection," Oromis said. "But while Eragon's spirit is driven by adventure and revenge against the Ra'zac, you are more reserved. You've witnessed firsthand how swiftly the life we know can be dismantled in the blink of an eye."
"And as a result, we remember the scars that we carry with us," Harry said, rubbing his faded lightning scar on his forehead. He felt slight headaches creeping forward.
Oromis's eyes flickered to Harry's scar, and his face seemed momentarily pained. "Not all scars are physical, Harry, but we can learn to deal with them. They are reminders of our struggles and victories, and ultimately, they shape us into who we are."
For a few minutes, no one spoke. Harry's thoughts were too turbulent, and he gratefully used the silence to reorganize himself.
"Why did you come here?" Oromis asked him.
Harry furrowed his brow. "What do you mean, Ebrithil?"
Oromis unfolded from his cross-legged position and set his feet on the ground.
"Well, unlike Eragon, you already have years of training in the Gramarye, as magic is correctly called, even though it differs from ours. In addition, you are educated - your knowledge of sciences, such as mathematics and nature, is probably better than that of any noble in all of Alagaёsia. That doesn't mean you're an expert in every field, but you don't wander through the world blindly like a chicken. So, why did you come? To learn?" Oromis asked attentively.
"I'm not sure why I came," Harry said thoughtfully. "I came to Alagaёsia without knowing how I got here, and I wanted to forget where I came from and who I was. I was done with the fighting."
Harry looked up to the sky, just to see a flock of cranes fly over their heads.
"Artemis hatched for me, and suddenly I thought there must be a reason why I came here, of all places. I joined Brom and Eragon to find that reason, and on the way, I saw what happened in Yazuac and then later arrived at Teirm," Harry recounted.
"Where you encountered Durza," Oromis recalled from Eragon's stories.
Harry nodded. "And also, Morzan, Galbatorix's right hand. He was there too."
Oromis's features hardened. "I remember."
Harry stared at his hand. "I saw with my own eyes how he, Morzan, killed a woman. She had refused to reveal the location of his son, so he killed her. Because Mary defied him, she was killed by him."
Harry clenched his hand into a fist and looked determinedly into Oromis's grey eyes. "I couldn't use my magic; I was powerless. At that moment, I thought, 'If I can't protect the weak, why am I even here?' I want to help people and figure out who I should be, and I've come to learn what role I am supposed to take in this world."
A touch of compassion appeared in Oromis's eyes as he gently placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and continued, "You are not alone, and I am here to support you on your journey. Your determination to help and your refusal to give up are the strengths that define you as a dragon rider. Always keep in mind who you are, and soon you will discover who you are meant to be, Harry Potter."
Harry smiled amused. "I should listen to my own advice sometimes."
"In what way, Harry?" Oromis asked, standing up. He reached out his hand to Harry and pulled him to his feet with surprising strength.
"I told Eragon similar words when we left Carvahall," Harry explained as he followed Oromis to his hut.
A smile flickered across Oromis's face. "It shows wisdom to follow advice, especially when it's your own. For in the reflection of our own words, we often find a valuable path to enlightenment, and enlightenment is what guides us to grow."
They entered the hut, where Eragon was waiting for them. He sat at a simple round table, and in front of him lay three parchment scrolls. On two of them was already something written, and Eragon was writing letters from the language the humans were using, whose letters were adopted from the dwarves, onto the third one.
Eragon looked up as they joined him at the table. He grinned at Harry. "Finally awake, old man?"
Harry returned the grin. "Yes, yes. Just because I'm a few years older doesn't mean you can label me as an old man, you young sprout."
Eragon leaned back in his chair. "I remember when you once called Brom an old man."
Eragon and Harry looked at each other for a moment, both suddenly trembling.
"Let's not talk about that anymore," Harry mumbled, and Eragon nodded in agreement.
Oromis placed a book and an old parchment scroll in front of each of them. "As you both know, we don't have enough time to teach you the knowledge you would have received before the fall. Brom only taught you the essentials on your journey so that you could survive," Oromis said, carefully picking up a strawberry from a bowl on the table.
"I, too, won't be able to teach you everything, but I will prepare you as best as I can for the battles to come," Oromis explained.
"And what does that mean for us?" Harry asked, nodding toward the books in front of them.
"The parchment scroll contains our Liduen Kvaedhí, the Poetic Script, consisting of forty-two characters. One of them, for example, is on your sword Zar'roc, Eragon," Oromis explained.
"That's the ancient language," Eragon exclaimed suddenly, holding the book in his hand and eagerly flipping through it. He recognized some words and phrases that Brom had taught him.
Oromis nodded. "It's a lexicon for the ancient language. In my entire collection, it is probably one of the most valuable possessions. Take good care of it."
"You're giving it to us, Master?" Eragon asked, surprised.
"Yes, because that's the only way you can learn to read and write the language," Oromis said, raising a warning finger. "But to speak the language, you must speak it, forming the vowels with your own lips."
"And how do we do that?" Harry asked with a sense of dread.
Oromis smiled and switched to the Elvish language. "By conversing in the ancient language, Harry-Finiarel. I want both of you to express yourselves only in the ancient language from now on. This applies to Artemis and Saphira as well."
"Even if I'm only talking to Harry?" Artemis asked.
"Even then," Oromis said, and Harry slumped his head on the table in dismay.
"What's wrong, young one?" Glaedr asked in his deep voice.
Harry propped himself up from the table and sighed. "I thought the time for learning was over with Hogwarts, Ebrithil. I just hope I don't have to write any more essays."
But when Harry saw Oromis's amused look, he knew that the O.W.L.s would be nothing compared to what he would go through in the coming months.
"Next, I would like to test your knowledge of swordplay," Oromis said seriously.
"Follow me, you two!"
They followed the old elf outside his hut. They walked to the stream, where Oromis sat on a tree stump, crossing his legs and holding his jug of water.
"What are you waiting for?" Oromis asked, looking expectantly at Eragon and Harry. "Are you expecting me to fight against both of you?"
"We have to fight each other?" Eragon asked uncertainly.
Oromis took a sip of water. "Of course. I am no longer in my prime, and this way, I can better assess both of you."
Harry exchanged a glance with Eragon and shrugged.
Eragon grinned, drawing his sword Zar'roc from its sheath. The red gem of Zar'roc sparkled in the sun, glowing in a bright red hue. "Don't worry, Harry. I'll go easy on you, old man."
"Gëuloth du Knífr," Eragon muttered, and a blue spark flickered between his fingers as he ran them over Zar'roc's edge.
Harry snorted, but he also retrieved his sword, the one he got from Baldr.
"Accio!" He extended his hand, and the sword flew from Artemis's saddlebag into his outstretched hand. He then moved to Eragon, and Oromis raised an eyebrow as Eragon guarded the edge of Harry's sword in the same manner he had just done with Zar'roc.
When Eragon finished, he handed Harry the sword, and they both took their positions along the stream.
Harry waited for Eragon to make the first move. He had learned this sword technique from Brom, and though it required calm and good reflexes, it was also quite risky. One small mistake, and it could be fatal.
"Show him, Harry!" Artemis called out from her spot, watching with her blue eyes from Oromis's hut. The dragons were lying in the shade of the trees in front of Oromis' home.
Harry raised his blade against Eragon's attack, and the metallic clashing filled the air. Eragon pressed with all his might against Harry's sword, but Harry didn't give an inch.
To break free from the strength contest, Harry turned his right foot on the ground, shifting his weight to his right side. Eragon noticed the manoeuvre and withdrew his sword, only to attack again in the next moment.
With quick parries, Harry blocked Eragon's assaults, but a triumphant grin slowly grew on Eragon's face. Eragon executed every thrust and feint from his arsenal, but Harry countered each attack with a swift move. Each time when Eragon stepped forward, Harry took a step back.
Both swordsmen seemed evenly matched, but in a sword fight, it required much more energy to be the aggressor. After the prolonged fight, Eragon's footwork slowed for a moment, and Harry surprised him with a swift strike to his left side.
Eragon managed to parry the attack but couldn't avoid the follow-up kick to his stomach.
"Ugh," Eragon grunted, staggering backward. When he stopped, he felt a sword tip under his chin.
He let Zar'roc slip from his hands, and it stuck into the ground with its tip.
"Brom taught both of you well. I'm sure there are only a handful of swordsmen among humans who can match you two," Oromis said with a warm smile. "Both of you, come sit with me, and we'll discuss your fight."
Harry sheathed his sword and sat cross-legged in front of Oromis on the ground. Eragon followed suit.
Oromis turned to Eragon first. "Eragon, why do you think you lost?"
Eragon furrowed his brow. "I don't know, Master. I've never been able to beat Harry; he's just faster than me."
Oromis shifted his gaze away from Eragon. "I noticed that as well, but that wasn't the reason. Do you know, Harry?"
Harry pondered, thinking of all the times he had fought alongside Eragon on the Ra'zac hunt.
Propping his head thoughtfully on his arm, supported by his leg, Harry said, "I think his movements were too predictable. I've seen you perform many of your feints and attacks before, even if you try to combine them differently."
Eragon wrinkled his nose. "Does that mean I have to become more creative?"
"No," Glaedr's voice grumbled in their heads. "Your movements are too rigid. You move like an old man!"
Eragon stared at Glaedr with his mouth agape. "I am sixteen summers old and not an old man!" Eragon added a quiet, offended 'Master' at the end.
Oromis sighed. "Stand up, Eragon."
"Why?"
"Because I want to see how agile you are. Fold your hands behind your back and raise your arms high. As high as you can," Oromis instructed.
Eragon managed to do it, but his shoulders hurt severely during the exercise, and he couldn't keep his hands together.
"Now take your arms forward and bend at the waist, try to touch the ground with your hands. Stop, Eragon! Keep your back straight, or the exercise won't be effective."
Eragon's knees and shins also hurt during this exercise. Harry couldn't help but laugh when he saw how much Eragon struggled, barely reaching under his knees with his hands.
Noticing Harry's laughter, Eragon stood up. "Yeah, laugh it up, Harry! Come on, do it better if you're so good!"
Harry replied with a grin and replicated both exercises. In the first one, Harry managed to hold his arms slightly higher than Eragon, and in the second one, he could press his entire hand on the ground, down to his palm.
"There is still room for improvement, but very good, Harry," Oromis commented.
"Thank you, Ebrithil," Harry replied. He stretched once and sat back down.
"How did you do that, Harry? My legs hurt too much for me to touch the ground," Eragon said, astonished.
Harry turned away from them, gazing into the distance. "When I was at Hogwarts, I was part of Gryffindor's Quidditch team. Wood was our captain, and he always made us train until we dropped dead. Even though the training was always tough, Wood insisted on one thing at the beginning of each session: we warmed up for 20 minutes and then stretched."
Harry shrugged. "Eventually, stretching became a ritual for me. Even when I wasn't at Hogwarts and had no Quidditch training, I did small exercises every evening. I still do them."
Eragon looked at him with a puzzled expression. "And why have I never seen you doing these exercises?"
Harry looked at him amused. "Because I was awake earlier than you. You were always exhausted from the sword fights the night before."
"True. So, did Harry win because he can stretch better than I can?" Eragon asked Oromis.
"Well, it's certainly an aspect that contributed. Harry has exceptionally good reactions for a human, which he takes advantage of," Oromis said, raising a finger. "Another reason is this: You were arrogant, Eragon-Finiarel."
Eragon's ears turned red.
"Don't let the victory over Durza go to your head, Shadeslayer!" Oromis admonished him. "Better swordsmen than you have died because they underestimated their opponents."
"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Harry suddenly barked, and Eragon flinched at the sudden noise. Even Oromis looked at him with wide eyes, surprised.
"Sorry," Harry said, rubbing his neck in embarrassment. "But that sounded too much like something Moody would want to say."
"This Moody sounded like to have a very... interesting personality."
"Believe me, Ebrithil, I've never met anyone as paranoid as him," Harry said with a laugh.
"Brom is also very paranoid," Eragon retorted, but Harry shook his head.
"Trust me, Eragon, Moody surpasses everyone. He trained me for a short time, and there was never a moment of peace. The first few days, he didn't even let me sleep. Imagine Brom creeping up to your bed at night and attacking you out of nowhere."
Harry shivered, and Eragon looked uncertainly at Oromis, who raised his arms reassuringly.
"Don't worry, Eragon-Finiarel. You'll get your fair share of sleep because this Mr. Moody will undoubtedly have different principles than I do," Oromis said.
Harry snorted as Eragon relievedly let his shoulders drop.
"So, Harry," Oromis said, turning to him this time. "I noticed something during your fight that made me a bit suspicious."
For a moment, Harry raised his eyebrows, but then his expression cleared. He knew what Oromis was getting at.
"Can you pass me your sword, Harry?" Oromis asked.
Harry handed the elf his sword, and with a lightning-fast motion, Oromis drew it from its sheath. His slender fingers gripped the hilt made of polished stone, and the blade reflected the sunlight.
"A good sword, but unusual. I must admit that I've never seen a hilt made of stone before," Oromis commented, running a finger along the sharp blade. "Where did you get this sword?" he asked, handing it back to Harry.
"It was a gift from Baldr, a dwarf of Dûrgrimst Ingeitum," Harry said.
"It may not be a sword like Eragon's, but it serves its purpose."
Oromis hummed in response. "However, with the force you and Eragon clash, it will probably break one day. I believe you would do well to visit someone in Ellesméra. But that's not what I wanted to address."
"I suspected that there might be special protective spells on the sword, and that was why you handed it to Eragon. But when I held it in my hand, I felt nothing," Oromis said, looking at Harry inquisitively.
Harry sighed and looked downcast at the stream. He raised his hand with the Gedwёy Ignasia and said, "Reisa du Adurna!"
The slowly flowing water in the stream continued as if nothing had happened. Harry closed his eyes and focused all his will on making the water rise. Then he heard it, a soft plop.
When he opened his eyes, he saw only a small amount of water falling back into the stream.
Oromis ran his hand over his chin. "Do it again, but this time, don't use the Ancient Language."
Harry complied with Oromis's request and drew his wand. He pointed it towards the stream, letting his magic flow freely. The entire water in front of them rose into the air, forming a large water sphere.
"Excellent concentration," Oromis murmured as he saw the water holding together in the sphere. On Oromis's nod, Harry let the water slide back into the stream.
"How do you feel?" Oromis asked curiously.
"I'm not exhausted if that's what you mean," Harry said. "The spell I tried before using the Ancient Language was more exhausting."
"Interesting," Oromis mumbled. "Have you always had trouble using the Ancient Language?"
"Yes," Harry confessed, thinking back. "After Artemis hatched for me, I couldn't use magic for a while."
Oromis raised an eyebrow. "And when could you use it again?"
Harry's chest trembled as he took a deep breath. "When I decided to fight."
Oromis's eyes lit up with sympathy. "I understand. It has happened before that when a magician's spirit struggles with itself, access to their magic remains blocked."
"Why is that?" Eragon asked.
"Our emotions influence us, Eragon," Oromis said slowly. "They are a part of us, and we must be in harmony with them; otherwise, there is a risk of losing oneself."
"Do you have any idea why magic may not be entirely accessible to you, Harry?" Oromis inquired.
"Tell them, Harry!"
"I can't," Harry mumbled and shut himself off from Artemis.
Oromis scrutinized Harry with a deep gaze. His grey eyes seemed to penetrate deep within him, where a storm raged. He hated it when Dumbledore had done the same. It always seemed as if they knew everything that was going on within him.
"Well then-," Oromis began, about to stand up. He suddenly tensed and lost his balance. Harry reacted and shot forward.
He held Oromis by the arms, who clung to Harry. Oromis's face turned red, and after another moment, he relaxed. He still held onto Harry, who continued to support him. His posture was hunched, and his breath was fast.
At that moment, Harry and Eragon saw, for the first time, the true age of Oromis and why he called himself Togira Ikonoka.
"Eragon, help me!" Harry called, and Eragon supported Oromis, who took deep breaths.
Harry drew his wand and tapped the tip against Oromis's forehead. A wave of magic emanated from the wand and flowed through the elf's weakened body.
Oromis would later describe it as a warm feeling spreading throughout his entire body. His breathing slowed, and the red colour on his face receded. His muscles relaxed.
"Eragon, please give me some water," Oromis whispered.
Eragon cautiously released himself from the elf and ran into the hut to fetch a jug of water. It took only a moment, and he rushed back with it.
"Here, Master!" Eragon said, handing the water to Oromis.
"Thank you," he said quietly and took a sip. Harry withdrew his wand from Oromis and stared at him with concern.
"Is he okay?" Artemis asked.
"Given the circumstances," Harry said uncertainly, "when I cast the spell, I sensed dark magic. I believe I've felt it before, but I don't know when!"
"Are you okay, Ebrithil?" Harry asked.
"I'm getting better; thank you both," Oromis said, sitting upright. He stared at the horizon where the sun was slowly setting.
Oromis sighed, "I can feel your questions on your faces. Be patient, I'll tell you about my illness, only this once."
"You must know that the dragon riders did not take Morzan and Galbatorix seriously when they returned from their exile. Glaedr and I did not share this opinion and wanted to investigate. We left Ilirea accompanied by Kialandí and Formora, who persuaded us to visit Edur Naroch," Oromis explained.
"It was an ambush, and to this day, I regret that we did not interpret the signs correctly at the time."
"Who were the two?" Eragon asked hesitantly.
Oromis smiled. "Eragon, don't be afraid to ask questions. I may not answer some questions because I don't know their answer, or you're not ready yet, but that shouldn't stop you from asking. Understood?"
Eragon nodded sheepishly, and this time, Glaedr answered. "Kialandí and Formora were two elves, and we knew Formora particularly well because we knew her mentor very well. They waited for us in Edur Naroch, an outpost south of today's Urû'baen. Luthivíra, where Oromis was born, was located there."
Glaedr spewed a dark smoke from his nostrils. "Formora knew that the city meant a lot to us and lured us there. They were waiting for us, and they had already killed three elves stationed on the watchtower in advance. When my claws touched the ground, we knew immediately that something was wrong. It smelled like Brimstone-"
"The trap snapped shut, and we were paralysed. I can't describe it to this day, but it was as if I couldn't articulate proper words in the ancient language. And then we fought each other with our minds," Oromis continued.
"Why didn't they kill you? After all, you couldn't use your magic," Harry asked confusedly.
"The inability to use the Ancient Language sounded very much like what Arya told us when Durza held her captive," Artemis said to Harry.
Harry's eyes lit up. "Of course!"
"Because they didn't want to," Oromis answered Harry's question.
"They boasted about how they wanted to break us and bring us before Galbatorix. They wanted to capture us, but we resisted," Glaedr said.
"The fight lasted for hours, but eventually, an immense gust of wind swept over the valley, and for a moment, I felt liberated. I could use magic again, and I managed to cast a spell that moved Glaedr and me a bit further. It was enough that the spells holding us no longer worked," Oromis explained.
Harry blinked. "You apparated?"
"I must admit, Harry, that I am not familiar with the term," Oromis replied. "I can only tell you that we not only changed position, but the magic also reshaped the substance of our bodies. We were no longer the ones we were before casting the spell."
Eragon shuddered. He couldn't imagine what kind of spell would be necessary for such a transformation.
"How is that possible?" Eragon asked.
Oromis gazed into the distance, lost in thought as he reflected on his past. "It's hard to describe, Eragon. The words for the spell came to me, and it was our only chance to escape because, at that point, we had given up trying to defeat Kialandí and Formora."
"Could you escape then?" Eragon inquired.
Oromis shook his head. "No, Formora noticed her mistake first and tried to kill us with a spell, but our protective spells repelled it. It was Kialandí who cast a spell he must have learned from Galbatorix. The spell hit me as I cast my spell to transport us to a new location. Kialandí's spell was meant to prevent me from using magic by blocking my access to the surrounding energy flow."
"We suspect that, due to the spell Oromis cast at the same time, Kialandí's spell only hit Oromis in his weakened form."
Harry felt Artemis's boiling anger. "That was just the weakened form? What would have happened if Oromis had taken the full force of the spell? Would he have been unable to use magic at all?"
"And from that moment on, I suffered a seizure, the first of many, and since then, I've only been able to cast the weakest spells. I believe that this illness – these seizures - always lay dormant within me, but it was only brought out by my spell that altered our bodies."
Oromis glanced in the eyes of everyone. "I hope I have appeased your curiosity with this."
Harry and Eragon nodded mutely.
Eventually, Eragon broke the silence. "How much time do you have left, Master?"
Oromis raised a single eyebrow in response. "Till I will die? Not as much as I would have liked, but enough time to teach you everything you need to know."
Oromis then clapped his hands and said, "But enough of that! Come, I want to give you some alarm clocks before you leave."
Eragon trailed behind Oromis. "Clocks? What are those?"
Harry remained seated, staring determinedly at the sky.
Artemis observed him, then remarked, "I recognize that look. You've got something up your sleeve, haven't you?"
Reisa du Adurna - Lift the Water
A/N: Happy New Year, everyone! I wanted to get this out a few days earlier, but I have got to be honest, the motivation was not really there.
It's been a year since I have posted the first chapter and I have a feeling that with every new chapter, it takes longer for me to write the new one, but at least I have finally fully figured out the whole backstory, which should make it hopefully easier for me to write in the future.
Well, here it is. I hope you like it, let me know what you think