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Disclaimer: I do not own The Inheritance Cycle. I only own the OC Michael Draven/Ancalagon.
When morning came, the storm had not been long passed. The clouds still remained in large patches, scintillating sunlight streaming in bright rays between them. The rising sun tinted the grey clouds with a new hue of bright light, and everything on the ground below gained a sharp contrast, lit brightly on one side, deeply shadowed on the other. Ordinary things took on a strange beauty.
Ancalagon awoke first, as usual, and stretched the stiffness from his limbs. His tail suddenly moved to the side, brushing against Saphira's flank. The silver dragon growled in surprise as he quickly moved his tail in the opposite direction to avoid something embarrassing from happening. Why the hell did that happen? I did not move my tail in any shape or form! Thought the dragon whose mind and senses could not yet grasp the complexity of a dragon's body. Then, he reluctantly turned his gaze towards Saphira, hoping that in her deep slumber she did not notice what just happened. He exhaled in relief when he noticed that her head was still under her wing. However, his expectations were short lived, for in the next moment she began to stir as she awoke as well, uncovering her head. She looked sleepily at Ancalagon.
Good morning, Ancalagon.
Good morning, Saphira. How are you feeling after last night's storm? Ancalagon asked with simplicity, trying not to give anything away of what just happened earlier.
Saphira placed her head on her paws, growling uncomfortably, Cold, wet, and stiff. What about you?
Ancalagon's laugh rumbled in his throat, The same, of course. Anything I can do to help you feel better?
Saphira rose and stretched like a cat. Unfortunately, she did it right in front of Ancalagon whose eyes widened and he quickly looked away. The last thing he wanted was for Saphira to catch him looking at... at...that area between her hind legs. She wouldn't do what she did when she woke up with his arms around her, she'd rip his throat out and mutilate his body with her fury. The male dragon's cheeks darkened with a red hue at the sight he briefly got a glimpse of but shook it out of his head quickly.
Damn dragon body...
Saphira, unaware of what happened, let out a yawn that revealed her sharp white teeth. Not for the time being, for the protection you offered me last night was better than anything I could have asked for, she said, poking his chest with her snout in a playful manner.
Ancalagon looked into her sapphire eyes for a short while before he drew his head back, looking in the opposite direction. Somehow, the whole attention he was receiving from Saphira made him feel awkward, more awkward than the idea of being caught staring at the area between her hind legs, for even he could not grasp the true extent of his emotions.'It must be due to this sudden change,'he thought as he glanced back at his wing. He removed it from its position covering Eragon and Brom. Wake up, you two.
The two humans stirred, awoken by the sudden exposure to the cold morning air. They clambered to their feet, still staggering slightly as they tried to restore feeling to their limbs.
Ancalagon heard Saphira take a deep sniff, taking in the morning air. The rejuvenated earth smelled fresh, clearing the group's troubled minds and raising their spirits once more. He turned to watch her as she sniffed the damp soil and moist air. Her scales, after the downpour last night, were shiny and clean, reflecting the light of the sun as dawn appeared over the trees. The scales shimmered, their beautiful blue shade catching the light, producing a dazzling display of bright blue light.
Ancalagon watched as Saphira stretched, craning her neck towards the heavens, and roared happily. Cadoc and Snowfire bolted in fear at the menacing roar of a beast that could end their life in an instant. Eragon and Brom managed to wrestle them back and calm them, having been jolted to full alertness by Saphira's ear-splitting roar.
Ancalagon was inspired by Saphira's exhilaration and let loose a roar of his own that shook the ground. Saphira glanced at Ancalagon in surprise.
"Saphira, Ancalagon, be quiet! We're too close to Yazuac for you to be so unnecessarily noisy. Someone might hear you, or even worse, the Ra'zac could be nearby!" Brom scolded.
"I thought we were following them." Eragon said, as he looked at Brom with a look of utter confusion on his face.
"Following them, yes. Confronting them, no. We will track them until they reach their lair, and only up to that point, so that we can know where they are when you are ready." corrected Brom, a scolding look in his blue eyes.
Be careful in Yazuac. The mention of that place brings up an uneasy stir in my gut. Ancalagon warned, although he was distracted with what Saphira was doing rather than listening to the dialogue between the two humans.
"We will, Ancalagon. You two need to be careful yourselves." Eragon replied back.
Saphira snorted. Why should we be careful? You're the one who seems to be found by trouble too often, little one.
"No, Eragon is right." Brom shook his head. "The Ra'zac may still be in the area. The last thing we need is to be ambushed by them and you two captured."
Saphira growled .They wouldn't get the chance.
"Maybe so, but what about Ancalagon?" Brom pointed out, bringing attention to the silver dragon. "We know nothing of his skills in combat."
Ancalagon snorted smoke from his nostrils. I can take care of myself, old man. The Ra'zac wouldn't get a chance to speak before I descended upon them.
Brom is right, though. We need to see your fighting skills. Saphira said, causing Ancalagon to snap his head at her. Today, I will test how good you are at combat.
You've gotta be kidding me...Ancalagon muttered to himself.
Eragon let slip a small grin, happy to see someone else receiving Brom's combat lesson. Brom wheeled on him, a dark smile on his face.
"And don't think that Ancalagon being tested gets you out of sparring this morning!" Brom said, taunting Eragon. He picked up something from behind him, then tossed a stick sword from behind him at Eragon, then twirled his own. Eragon groaned, eliciting a smile from Brom. Eragon and Brom assumed their usual fighting stances, slowly circling each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. Eragon broke the impasse, lunging forward in a diagonal slash that Brom caught on his upraised stick. Brom twisted his stick, turning Eragon's to the side, then delivered a swift strike to Eragon's side. Eragon winced, jumping back as he quickly rubbed the sore spot he was hit in.
The sparring session ended when Brom decided that Eragon had been beaten enough. Eragon sat down heavily, rubbing the welts left by the sticks. Saphira gave a choppy, growling laugh as she watched Eragon attempt to sooth his injuries.
It never gets old watching the old one beat Eragon, she said to Ancalagon. The silver male smiled too, knowing how many times Eragon would have to suffer at Brom's hands. Saphira looked at Ancalagon, nudged him, and then rose. Well, come on. Time for your lesson. Ancalagon followed her into the air.
They flew towards the Nienor River, soaring gracefully on the wind currents. Saphira suddenly looped in the air, coming out of the loop above Ancalgon. Ancalagon whipped his head around to look at her just in time to receive a shove towards the ground. He wobbled in the air before he managed to steady himself, then looked at her again. Saphira wasn't behind him anymore.
Down here, Ancalagon! Saphira said. Ancalagon quickly looked down to see Saphira flying quickly towards him. She barreled into his chest, knocking him into a tumbling fall. He managed to get his wings out again just in time to drag his claws over the surface of the river.
Saphira, what are you doing? Ancalagon asked.
Why, testing your air combat skills, of course! Saphira's voice came, just before she hit him again. He managed to grab her left foreleg as she hit him, and whipped her around.
Reflexes kicked in. He twisted in midair, hurling her from him with a kick of his hind legs, his talons screeching against her underbelly's scales for a brief moment before she was launched away. He swooped, using her momentum to send himself speeding in a quick spiral that brought him up behind her, just as she recovered from his maneuver.
Surprise and anger echoed across their mental link as she said, Where did you learn that? She was definitely angry that she managed to be defeated by an amateur so easily.
Ancalagon couldn't tell her that it was one of the moves that he had read about her using against Thorn at the end of Eldest. I guess it was instinct, he said, lying quickly. In fact, he was surprised that he had managed to pull the maneuver off. After all, his dragon body still wasn't surrendering complete control yet.
She soared upward to match his altitude, looking at him. After a few moments, she banked to head towards the clearing on the riverbank, followed by Ancalagon.
They landed in the clearing, Saphira landing gracefully with a short flap of her wings to ease her descent, Ancalagon landing heavily, causing a ground-shaking thud.
As Saphira arched her neck to drink from the river, Ancalagon noticed with a pang of regret that scratch marks trailed down her belly, marring the flawless beauty of the sapphire scales.
Ancalagon approached the river to drink as well. I apologize for harming you, he said, hanging his head in shame.
He felt a brief warm touch brush against his neck as Saphira brushed her muzzle against it.
You defended yourself well, there is nothing to forgive. Saphira said, turning to look into his eyes. And you will get over it soon; I'll pay you back for it.
What do you mean?
We still have to fight on the ground, you know. You'll get your share of scratches.She twitched her tail playfully. Come on, show me what you can do!
Ancalagon tensed as Saphira circled. He would go easy on her, of course. He wouldn't want to hurt her agai-
A lance of pain shot through his shoulder as Saphira clawed at it without warning. Ancalagon roared in surprise and pain.
Stop daydreaming, Ancalagon, make this a challenge! Saphira taunted.
Ancalagon growled playfully and leapt forward to meet her, and they tumbled to the ground in a flurry of claws and scales.
Ancalagon swung at her with his strong left forearm, knocking her in a tumble across the clearing. She rolled to her feet quickly, and charged at him again.
Ancalagon had the size advantage, but Saphira was more agile. He leapt to pin her down, but she wriggled away, leaping onto his back to knock him off balance as he bucked to throw her off of him. Saphira clamped her jaws on the back of his neck, prompting Ancalagon to roar in pain again.
While he was distracted, she leapt forward, dragging his neck and head down to the ground. She clamped her jaw on his neck again, this time holding on, intent on forcing him to submit. Ancalagon froze when her teeth went to his throat.
You lose, Saphira growled threateningly, Submit!
Ancalagon growled submissively, reluctantly surrendering the victory to her. Despite Saphira having more experience, he still felt very embarrassed and humiliated at having been defeated by someone so much smaller than him.
Huh, seems he was gaining that legendary pride of dragons. Dragons were very prideful creatures after all in all that they've been featured in. TV, books, and movies.
They laid down to rest under a low-hanging broom tree that arced over the river, casting a pleasant shadow in which they rested, licking their wounds. Ancalagon thought about making a crack about it being a 'Sweeping Willow' but discarded the thought. She wouldn't get the joke. Saphira's voice interrupted his wayward thoughts:
Your fighting skills are impressive in the air as well as on the ground. One thing you should be careful of, though, is smaller opponents.
Noted, Ancalagon said, shifting his neck uncomfortably. He attempted to bend his neck to get his head around to lick the injury, but could not reach it.
Let me, came Saphira's voice. Ancalagon felt her moist tongue passing over the wounds, sending fresh waves of pain as her tongue brushed against the soft, exposed flesh. Ancalagon released a low growl of pain, but did nothing to stop her, for this was a necessary evil if his wounds were to heal faster.
Saphira, why are you helping me when I harmed you?
Because. We came here to fight, and we did. Injuries are simply part of the process, and I went a bit overboard attacking your neck like that. Saphira said, continuing her treatment of the wounds without another word.
After she had finished treating his wounds, she moved away and returned to licking her own injuries.
Shouldn't we get back? Ancalagon eventually said, breaking the mental silence.
They have probably already gone into town. We were supposed to wait here, anyway, so there's no reason to go anywhere. Saphira said, shifting her body into a more comfortable position, lowering her head to rest between her claws.
Ancalagon knew that he was forgetting something… Something important, yet that something was lost in the lethargic feeling that he felt while lounging next to Saphira.
I guess I'll remember eventually, he thought to himself, closing his eyes, lowering his head as well, to rest upon the cool grass.
Eragon and Brom kept a swift pace in anticipation of the food and drink they would soon enjoy. As they approached the small houses, they could see smoke from a dozen chimneys, but there was no one in the streets. An abnormal silence enveloped the village. By unspoken consent they stopped before the first house. Eragon abruptly said, "There aren't any dogs barking."
"No."
"Doesn't mean anything, though."
"...No."
Eragon paused. "Someone should have seen us by now."
"Yes."
"Then why hasn't anyone come out?"
Brom squinted at the sun. "Could be afraid."
"Could be," said Eragon. He was quiet for a moment. "And if it's a trap? The Ra'zac might be waiting for us."
"We need provisions and water."
"There's the Ninor."
"Still need provisions."
"True." Eragon looked around. "So we go in?"
Brom flicked his reins. "Yes, but not like fools. This is the main entrance to Yazuac. If there's an ambush, it'll be along here. No one will expect us to arrive from a different direction."
"Around to the side, then?" asked Eragon. Brom nodded and pulled out his sword, resting the bare blade across his saddle. Eragon strung his bow and nocked an arrow.
They trotted quietly around the town and entered it cautiously. The streets were empty, except for a small fox that darted away as they came near. The houses were dark and foreboding, with shattered windows. Many of the doors swung on broken hinges. The horses rolled their eyes nervously. Eragon's palm tingled, but he resisted the urge to scratch it. As they rode into the center of town, he gripped his bow tighter, blanching. "Gods above," he whispered.
A mountain of bodies rose above them, the corpses stiff and grimacing. Their clothes were soaked in blood, and the churned ground was stained with it. Slaughtered men lay over the women they had tried to protect, mothers still clasped their children, and lovers who had tried to shield each other rested in death's cold embrace. Black arrows stuck out of them all. Neither young nor old had been spared. But worst of all was the barbed spear that rose out of the peak of the pile, impaling the white body of a baby.
Tears blurred Eragon's vision and he tried to look away, but the dead faces held his attention. He stared at their open eyes and wondered how life could have left them so easily. What does our existence mean when it can end like this? A wave of hopelessness overwhelmed him.
A crow dipped out of the sky, like a black shadow, and perched on the spear. It cocked its head and greedily scrutinized the infant's corpse. "Oh no you don't," snarled Eragon as he pulled back the bowstring and released it with a twang. With a puff of feathers, the crow fell over backward, the arrow protruding from its chest. Eragon fit another arrow to the string, but nausea rose from his stomach and he threw up over Cadoc's side.
Brom patted him on the back. When Eragon was done, Brom asked gently, "Do you want to wait for me outside Yazuac?"
"No... I'll stay," said Eragon shakily, wiping his mouth. He avoided looking at the gruesome sight before them. "Who could have done..." He could not force out the words.
Brom bowed his head. "Those who love the pain and suffering of others. They wear many faces and go by many disguises, but there is only one name for them: evil. There is no understanding it. All we can do is pity and honor the victims."
He dismounted Snowfire and walked around, inspecting the trampled ground carefully. "The Ra'zac passed this way," he said slowly, "but this wasn't their doing. This is Urgal work; the spear is of their make. A company of them came through here, perhaps as many as a hundred. It's odd; I know of only a few instances when they have gathered in such..." He knelt and examined a footprint intently. With a curse he ran back to Snowfire and leapt onto him.
"Ride!" he hissed tightly, spurring Snowfire forward. "There are still Urgals here!" Eragon jammed his heels into Cadoc. The horse jumped forward and raced after Snowfire. They dashed past the houses and were almost to the edge of Yazuac when Eragon's palm tingled again. He saw a flicker of movement to his right, then a giant fist smashed him out of the saddle. He flew back over Cadoc and crashed into a wall, holding on to his bow only by instinct. Gasping and stunned, he staggered upright, hugging his side.
An Urgal stood over him, face set in a gross leer. The monster was tall, thick, and broader than a doorway, with gray skin and yellow piggish eyes. Muscles bulged on his arms and chest, which was covered by a too small breastplate. An iron cap rested over the pair of ram's horns curling from his temples, and a roundshield was bound to one arm. His powerful hand held a short, wicked sword.
Behind him, Eragon saw Brom rein in Snowfire and start back, only to be stopped by the appearance of a second Urgal, this one with an ax. "Run, you fool!" Brom cried to Eragon, cleaving at his enemy. The Urgal.
in front of Eragon roared and swung his sword mightily. Eragon jerked back with a startled yelp as the weapon whistled past his cheek. He spun around and fled toward the center of Yazuac, heart pounding wildly.
The Urgal pursued him, heavy boots thudding. Eragon sent a desperate cry for help to Saphira and Ancalagon.
Saphira, Ancalagon, help! Urgals!
Saphira, Ancalagon, help! Urgals!
The dragons snapped awake upon hearing the desperate call for help in their heads. They quickly took to the skies, Ancalagon privately cursing himself for not remembering this important event from the story.
We're coming, little one! Saphira said, increasing her already breakneck pace.
Eragon forced himself to go even faster. The Urgal rapidly gained ground despite Eragon's efforts; large fangs separated in a soundless bellow. With the Urgal almost upon him, Eragon strung an arrow, spun to a stop, took aim, and released. The Urgal snapped up his arm and caught the quivering bolt on his shield. The monster collided with Eragon before he could shoot again, and they fell to the ground in a confused tangle.
Eragon sprang to his feet and rushed back to Brom, who was trading fierce blows with his opponent from Snowfire's back.'Where are the rest of the Urgals?'wondered Eragon frantically. Are these two the only ones in Yazuac? There was a loud smack, and Snowfire reared, whinnying. Brom doubled over in his saddle, blood streaming down his arm. The Urgal beside him howled in triumph and raised his axe for the death blow.
A deafening scream tore out of Eragon as he charged the Urgal, headfirst. The Urgal paused in astonishment, then faced him contemptuously, swinging his axe. Eragon ducked under the two-handed blow and clawed the Urgal's side, leaving bloody furrows. The Urgal's face twisted with rage. He slashed again, but missed as Eragon dived to the side and scrambled down an alley.
Eragon concentrated on leading the Urgals away from Brom. He slipped into a narrow passageway between two houses, saw it was a dead end, and slid to a stop. He tried to back out, but the Urgals had already blocked the entrance. They advanced, cursing him in their gravelly voices. Eragon swung his head from side to side, searching for a way out, but there was none.
As he faced the Urgals, images flashed in his mind: dead villagers piled around the spear and an innocent baby who would never grow to adulthood. At the thought of their fate, a burning, fiery power gathered from every part of his body. It was more than a desire for justice. It was his entire being rebelling against the fact of death—that he would cease to exist. The power grew stronger and stronger until he felt ready to burst from the contained force.
He stood tall and straight, all fear gone. He raised his bow smoothly. The Urgals laughed and lifted their shields. Eragon sighted down the shaft, as he had done hundreds of times, and aligned the arrowhead with his target. The energy inside him burned at an unbearable level. He had to release it, or it would consume him.
A word suddenly leapt unbidden to his lips. He shot, yelling, "BRISINGR!"
The arrow crackled with blue flame as it hissed through the air, glowing fiercely. It struck the lead Urgal in the forehead, and the air resounded with a loud explosion. The Urgal's head exploded in a blue shockwave, which consumed the other Urgal in its fiery path. The shockwave dissipated before reaching Eragon or the surrounding buildings, vanishing without a trace.
Eragon stood panting, dropping his bow and looking at his gedwëy ignasia, which was glowing like white-hot metal, and faded before his eyes. He clenched his fist as a wave of exhaustion washed over him, and he felt as if he hadn't eaten for days. His knees buckled, and he slumped against the wall. Darkness filled his mind, but before sight faded, he glimpsed two dragons flying overhead, silver and blue, diving towards him...
And that's it for this chapter, people. I know it's been a while since I updated this, so I figured I'd get to work on it. Like with Heart of a Dragon, I've went and made multiple chapters before posting this one, just so there is a bit of a daily update.