Hello again fair readers! Apologies for the wait, but I hope this chapter makes up for it!
Chapter 53 – Flight to the Forgotten Home
"Are you sure that pursuing Thorn is wise?" Nasuada asked him, arching an eyebrow at him from across the table.
They were a few leagues from Urû'baen, and the Ramr River to their east was all that separated them from the open fields surrounding the capital of the Empire. It was late in the day when Brom had called for this meeting, and it had only begun once the men had finished setting up the Varden's command tent.
"If Galbatorix was to think you'd left us," Jörmundur stated, "he could very well take the opportunity to crush the Varden once and for all."
"Doubtful," Brom said, shaking his head as his fingers drummed steadily on the table before him. He was seated next to Nasuada and opposite Jörmundur, which was unusual for his father; usually Brom kept a distance from the ongoings of the meetings unless specifically called upon, preferring to remain separated from the political theater that was the Varden's daily bread. "The last recorded instance of Galbatorix leaving the castle was nearly a decade ago, and he has not so much as stirred since we began our march from Surda. No, we are beneath his notice. He will wait for us to attack and use his position from inside the city to his advantage."
Nasuada nodded, "Aye, but we've never been this close before." Turning towards Eragon, she continued, "Why risk it now?"
Eragon's gaze flittered to his right were Arya was seated. She inclined her head slightly at his glance, a moment of understanding passing between the two of them silently. To the others, Eragon explained, "There is no guarantee that I will survive the fight with Galbatorix, and to leave a Shade as powerful as Thorn running wild could spell doom for Alagaësia."
One of the reasons he kept to himself was because of what Solembum had told him under the depths of Farthen Dûr.
When all seems lost and your power is insufficient, go to the Rock of Kuthian and speak your name to open the Vault of Souls.
The Rock of Kuthian was on Vroengard, far to the east and north, and if there ever was a time his power was insufficient it would be now. Both the threat of Galbatorix and the Shade hung over him, and it would be the perfect opportunity to cast one stone and score two birds. He did not trust the powerful presence he had felt in Tronjheim so long ago, but the enticement of more strength to combat both Galbatorix and the Shade was not one he could let pass.
Only, Eragon thought to himself, I have yet to tell Arya and Oromis of this.
They were, as Eragon had already encountered, affected by a memory spell the likes of which he had never seen before. It was strong enough to pierce the numerous wards surrounding Ellesméra and affect both Glaedr and Oromis, though why Eragon and Saphira were spared was another mystery entirely. It was why he hadn't mentioned his plan yet to either of them.
That was a conversation for later though, as Nasuada finally replied to his reasoning.
Her face flashed as she spoke, a hint of sadness flittering over her features. "Thorn's fate is terrible, and I grieve for him, but we cannot sacrifice everything on the chance that you may not live."
"If we do not deal with Thorn now," Arya finally said, speaking for the first time since the meeting had begun, "then it is also likely that the Shade will be drawn to the fighting once the battle commences." Her emerald gaze flicked over to Eragon, and he was glad of her support in this matter even when he knew she did not agree entirely with him. "Shades are drawn to conflict and chaos, and there will be ample amounts once the siege begins. We cannot fight on two fronts, especially against Galbatorix and Thorn, so it would be wiser to divide our enemies instead of rushing in ahead."
"We've not heard from the creature since your last encounter in the Hadarac Desert," Jörmundur reported, the old, grizzled soldier looking down at a pile of parchments spread out before him. "He could very well have succumbed to his wounds after his fall."
Both Brom and Nasuada shook their heads together, but it was his father that answered first. "Unlikely. Thorn may be unstable, as Eragon and the others have hinted, but the only way a Shade can be killed is through piercing their heart. I suspect, at least," Nasuada continued, casting an appraising eye at Eragon and Arya, "that either of you would know if he perished?"
Arya stiffened next to him, though he knew that he was the only one able to see her slight movement.
Did Nasuada know of the Eldunarí?
Impossible.
More likely she figured that they would have sensed the dragon's demise in some way, either through their scrying of the land or from either Fírnen or Saphira. Without Thorn's Eldunarí only Murtagh would be able to ascertain Thorn's true fate, and he was leagues away behind the wards of Du Weldenvarden.
"Aye," Eragon said, bluffing slightly. Arya glanced at him quickly before nodding in agreement, her features relaxing when Eragon offered nothing more.
"We cannot stop you," Nasuada said, spreading her hands wide and gesturing to the assembled gathering. Orik and Orrin were absent, each off dealing with their own armies and people, though they had both left behind stewards in case Nasuada needed them. "You are not my vassal, nor are you apart of the Varden's armies properly, but I would be remised if I did not share my opinion. Your absence," she said, pointing both to Eragon and Arya, "will not go unnoticed, not while we are so close to the capital."
"The Elves will arrive at Urû'baen nearly at the same time that the Varden will," Arya stated. Jörmundur gave her a doubtful glance that she ignored entirely. "Eragon is powerful, of this I have no qualms with, but even he is not equivalent to the number of Elven spellcasters we have in our army. If you fear Galbatorix striking before we return, then I would suggest timing your arrival more closely with the Queen's."
"A fair point," Nasuada acknowledged, her fingers coming down to rest upon the table. "Very well, We will proceed with your suggestion. I will have Brom personally inform King Orrin and King Orik of this new development."
She gestured towards Brom, signaling to the others that the meeting was concluded. Eragon and Arya stood to leave, though they were gainsaid when Nasuada rounded the table and held out an arm. "Be careful," Nasuada cautioned the two of them, her eyes moving quickly between the pair. Her gaze caught at the close proximity the two had to one another, a spark of understanding filling her eyes.
Nasuada grasped both Arya and Eragon's arm tightly, drawing them closer. Her voice dropped to a whisper, her gaze flicking towards the tent opening where the last member of the meeting had just departed through. "I've long suspected that something has been between the two of you, and the recent rumors surrounding the fact that the two of you share a tent have not escaped my attention. Is it true?"
Eragon and Arya shared a glance, and he was heartened to see that Arya was not perturbed by the idea of Nasuada knowing of them. He knew that she considered Nasuada a close friend, as did he, and figured that it was only right that she knew of the development between them.
"It is," Arya answered. Her eyebrows furrowed, "I only ask that you do not speak of this to my mother, Nasuada."
The Leader of the Varden raised a surprised eyebrow at her words. "You haven't told her yet?"
Arya shook her head slowly, "It is something that should be shared in person, not over a scrying mirror."
Nasuada nodded, her face relaxing. "That much I can understand. You have my word, at the very least." A smile broke out upon her lips, and the smaller woman drew in both Arya and Eragon into an awkward embrace. When she finally released them, the smile that Nasuada wore only grew at the expression on Eragon's face. "Love is a rare thing to find in war, and should be treasured wherever it can be found."
"Aye," Eragon nodded, schooling his face into something more friendly. Arya was likewise stiff beside him, as uncomfortable as he was with the three-way embrace. Wanting nothing more than to end this current line of talk, Eragon offered, "I am glad that you decided to support our leaving. For us to be divided right now could strike a blow at the Varden."
"Indeed," Nasuada said, before sighing. "Privately, I agree with your sentiment and desire to help Thorn, but it is my duty to put the Varden before any personal feelings I may have." It was the sign of a great leader, and Eragon had high aspirations as to the person she would become after the war. "Though I must admit that it was Brom who convinced me before the meeting. Rarely have I seen him so passionate over something, though I suspect I know why."
"Aye," Eragon sighed, glancing towards the entrance to the tent. "He partially blames himself for what happened to Murtagh after the fall. According to some in Ellesméra, when my father heard of his capture, he nearly rushed to Urû'baen to free Murtagh himself."
"I see that rashness is something of a family trait," Nasuada said, the upturn of her lips letting Eragon know that she was teasing.
"Indeed," Arya answered for him, a familiar glint in her eyes. "Despite being old enough to be considered an adult among my people, Eragon has the propensity to act with a brazenness that only someone many years his younger would possess."
Eragon sighed, drawing his hand over his face as the two women laughed softly in front of him.
"Blame Saphira," Eragon murmured. "She's the one who encourages me."
Despite being across the encampment, situated near the site of their tents, Eragon swore he could hear Saphira's low growl of disapproval.
Little one…
Eragon shivered lightly.
It took them two days to ready themselves, having stayed long enough to safely assure that the Varden was able to cross the Ramr River without any more of their assistance. It was an early morning sun that would see them off, and the only ones in attendance -besides Blödhgarm and his elves- were Glenwing and his father.
Brom was the first to approach Eragon, who had seated himself high in Saphira's saddle.
"Be careful my son," Brom said, laying a gentle hand on Saphira's scales. "And you as well, Saphira. You journey to face a foe that no one else has yet to cross, and I can only speculate as to the dangers you will face."
"It will be more than just us facing Thorn," Eragon commented, giving his father a meaningful look.
"The Mourning Sage?" his father mouthed silently, despite the fact that they were outside the Varden's encampment and that the nearest soldier was hundreds of feet away. "They mean to leave the forest?" Brom continued, his words spoken aloud.
"Aye," Eragon answered quietly.
Something on Brom's face hardened, a steely resolve that Eragon had not seen in centuries. "Then I must do what I can here, to ensure that when you return, we are as prepared as we can be. It was a wise choice to leave now; it will take time for the armies to assemble outside Urû'baen, and coordinating three different styles of combatants effectively is not something we've ever had to do before."
"Good luck to you, father," Eragon said, dipping his head as Brom waved goodbye. His father ventured over towards Fírnen and Arya, who were likewise saying farewell to Glenwing. When Brom arrived both he and Arya descended into a hushed conversation, their words lost to him as Glenwing ambled over.
"Try not to die, eh?" Glenwing greeted, patting Saphira softly on her neck.
"I'll try my best," Eragon said dryly.
"If you were gone, who else would be left for me to tease over their relationships?" Glenwing said, shaking his head and sighing theatrically. "Roran and his wife? The two of them are worse than you, and even make me uncomfortable."
"I'm sure you'll manage," Eragon responded with a smile, before the two of them descended into a light chuckle.
Glenwing's face transformed, the earlier mirth disappearing and leaving apparent his worry. "Take care of him, won't you?" the elf said to Saphira.
Always, Saphira answered, shifting her weight to lightly bump the elf. Watch over Brom for us in return.
"Aye," Glenwing replied. "I'll do my best."
The conversation drew to a close, and Glenwing stepped back towards Brom. Whatever he and Arya conversed over was not clearly evident on Brom's face, and when Eragon glanced over at Arya she merely nodded to him in reply.
Something to worry over later, Eragon thought to himself.
Saphira arched her neck forward and lightly nudged Brom and Glenwing before spreading her wings wide and leaping into the air with a powerful push of her legs. She steadily climbed in the early morning sky, angling herself gently towards the north. Arya and Fírnen followed closely behind, and when Eragon turned in his saddle to peer behind him he could see Arya's perplexed expression.
Her mind gently touched his, the musical entrancement of her mind drawing Eragon. Faint echoes of memory stirred at the sensation, and Arya's mind responded in kind. Impressions of pleasure and lust surfaced in Arya's mind, hidden away before Eragon could catch more than a gleam of memory.
Focus, Arya stated to him, the feeling in her voice betraying her own emotions.
Eragon smiled even as Saphira snorted below him. Sorry, Eragon replied.
No you're not, Saphira said to Eragon, her mind shielded from Arya.
He could feel Arya recentering her thoughts, her mind clearing a moment later.
Why are we headed north? Arya asked. Fírnen must have said something to her, for she paused before continuing, And you never explained how we were going to track Thorn. I assumed you must have a plan, otherwise Brom would have never gone along with it.
We should have Glaedr here with us for this conversation, Eragon said, reaching his mind out towards the Eldunarí. It took a moment for the dragon to respond, and Eragon let Saphira relay their current situation to the older dragon. Their manner of speech was much faster than Eragon could manage, and not a moment later Glaedr's mind joined Eragon's and Arya's.
Fírnen and Saphira joined as well, and as Saphira angled herself slightly towards the east Glaedr finally asked, For what reason are you angling towards Vroengard, Saphira? I can see the destination clearly in your mind. All that remains of our home is poisoned.
Surprise flooded through their conjoined minds, emanating from both Fírnen and Arya.
I omitted the truth when I said we were going to find Thorn, Eragon admitted. He felt a sharp sting of hurt flash across Arya's mind before it disappeared, and Eragon winced slightly.
For what reason? Arya asked, her voice cool and level.
To keep our destination from those who would mean to stop us, Saphira answered for him.
If you were anyone else, Glaedr said, his deep voice rumbling in their heads, then I would believe you intended to run away from the battle ahead.
We do not, Eragon reassured the dragon.
Then explain to me – to us- why we are not hunting down Thorn as we already discussed.
Saphira leveled out her flight, her wings gliding through the air. The ground below passed by them faster than any elf could run until it nearly blurred together. Fírnen drew up next to Saphira, the tips of their wings nearly touching each time they flapped. Arya twisted in her saddle and peered over at Eragon, her face betraying her hurt.
Do you remember our conversation, Glaedr, of what Saphira and I experienced under Farthen Dûr after the battle?
Aye, of when the strange presence took hold of you. Oromis and I discussed this with you already in Ellesméra.
Arya already knew this part, as he had long ago told her of it during their many talks, though he always refrained from mentioning the Rock of Kuthian lest the spell take hold.
Aye, Eragon recounted, and we discovered that a memory spell had been placed over all of Alagaësia.
He could feel Glaedr's mind struggle to remember, and Eragon was glad that he kept his answer vague enough that the spell did not take hold once again.
I do recall a conversation, Glaedr growled, but the contents of it slip away each time I reach for it.
There is something on Vroengard, Saphira stated, that Eragon and I believe will help us in the battles ahead. We cannot say exactly where or what, but we would be remiss if we did not find the source of this presence. It is too powerful to leave unattended, and if what we were told is true, it could be able to lend us strength in order to quell the Shade within Thorn.
Do you trust the source of this information? Arya asked, her brows dipped forward in thought.
We do, Eragon answered. It was Solembum who chose to impart the information on behalf of all the Werecats, though not even he can say where their race acquired it.
Troubling that an entire race of magical beings such as they would subject themselves to such a spell, Glaedr added. The Werecat's, however, would not lead you into doom knowingly, not when so many of their kind rest within the ranks of the Varden.
Our thoughts as well, Saphira responded. Eragon and I agreed that any chance to level the gulf between Galbatorix and our power should not be overlooked.
Indeed, Glaedr stated. Then what would you have of Oromis and I?
Before I say, Eragon said, how has Murtagh's progress gone?
A faint note of pride entered the dragon's voice, one that Eragon was surprised to hear associated with Murtagh. He has broken free from Galbatorix's oath and has successfully changed his Name. Not as much as we would have liked, but enough that we are sure that the Mad King can command him no longer.
A tight knot of worry that Eragon did not realize he was carrying disappeared, and the elation that his half-brother was finally free made Eragon smile widely. Even Arya seemed pleased at the outcome. She gave him a soft smile as their eyes locked, the earlier hurt look gone from her eyes.
The reminder of his partial lie brought his feelings back down, a low sensation of regret simmering at the surface. I need to speak with her after this.
She will understand, Saphira said to him privately. There would have been too many questions, and explaining such a thing would have taken too long. This way, at least, we are already heading towards our goal.
Returning to the conversation before anyone could question his sudden silence, Eragon asked, What does he intend to do?
We told him how we were awaiting your word before we left the forest. He was eager to join us, so long as that is amenable to you.
Aye, Eragon answered. His help, I think, will be necessary for what we plan to do.
I suspect so. However, I must say that we will not reach you before you arrive at Vroengard.
It was slightly awkward for Eragon to be the one in charge, despite the fact that both Glaedr and Oromis were centuries older than him. His position as Leader of the Order dictated, however, that so long as his commands were just, even those of the Council must follow them.
No, Eragon said. Oromis and yourself can lend your aid through your Eldunarí, and I believe we would be better served if you focused instead on finding Thorn.
Murtagh's and Thorn's bond will come in use then, Glaedr commented, A sound plan, Skörungr. We will find Thorn and await your arrival. Should you have need of me do not hesitate to reach out.
Aye, Eragon said.
Fair hunting, Glaedr-elda, Fírnen said.
The dragon's mind receded back into his Eldunarí, and the four of them followed suite. Left alone with his own thoughts Eragon glanced over towards Arya, whose brow was dipped in thought and face revealed nothing of her inner emotions.
Reaching out his mind tentatively, Eragon was unsurprised when he was met with the strong shields that surrounded her mind.
A sudden impulse came over him, and Eragon was quick to undo the straps holding his legs in place.
Saphira sensed his intention and snorted lightly. Did she not just call you a 'brazen fool'?
No, Eragon huffed. She said that I acted with a brazenness someone younger than me would possess.
Same thing.
Are you going to help me or not?
A cloud of smoke left Saphira's nostrils, the strong wind of their flight whipping it back into Eragon.
Fine. Saphira finally decided. Only because it will be amusing to watch.
Eragon sighed and stood up on the saddle, balancing his weight as Saphira steadied herself. Reaching with his mind towards Arya, Eragon instead diverted his thoughts at the last second towards Fírnen.
The dragon was surprised when Eragon gently brushed against his mind, though he was quick to lower the shields and allow Eragon through.
Eragon-elda? Fírnen asked. Despite how deep the dragon's voice was, Eragon had forgotten how truly young the green dragon was.
I have told you to call me Eragon, he said, before continuing quickly. Fírnen, would you do me the honor of allowing me to fly with you?
I-. Eragon sensed some confusion in the dragon for a moment, before understanding filled Fírnen's mind. If that is what you wish, Eragon, but Arya may not be receptive.
Let me deal with that.
Arya, surprisingly, had not noticed Eragon's movements, and her head only turned towards Eragon when Saphira suddenly bucked in the air and twisted slightly in their direction, her sharp movement sending Eragon flying from her saddle towards her.
Surprise flashed across her face, and Arya instinctively reached out her hands towards Eragon. The few moments that he spent airborne elicited a small laugh from him, made all the better by Arya's startled face as he crashed into her in the saddle. It was only by the grace of their elven strength that Eragon did not slip from Fírnen's back and end up falling towards the ground, Arya's strong grip holding him securely in place.
Eragon quickly twisted himself around and settled behind Arya in the saddle, snaking his arms around her lithe waist and pulling her body tight against him. She stiffened slightly at the contact even as her hands descended towards his arms. She gripped his forearms tightly though made no show of trying to distance herself from him.
"What prompted this display of brazenness?" Arya stated, refusing to turn in the saddle to address him. "Do you want to be sent to an early grave, leaving behind a legacy of foolish behavior?"
"I merely wanted to get your attention," Eragon said, angling his mouth towards one of her slanted ears. He could feel her shiver slightly at his warm breath, though he knew she would never dare admit such a thing right now.
"There are better ways to get someone's attention, Eragon."
"True, but your mind was closed to me. What else was I supposed to do?"
Her head finally swiveled around to him; one eyebrow was sharply pointed upwards, and she opened her mouth to speak. "Did you perhaps think that there was a reason I wanted to be left alone?"
"Aye," Eragon responded. "And I will respect your wishes, but only after I have said my piece."
"Then speak." Arya said, a shrewdness in her voice that Eragon rarely heard directed at him.
"I'm sorry," he said, allowing the full weight of his regret to fill his voice, "for deceiving you. It was never my intention to hurt you, even indirectly."
Arya stiffened in front of him, and he slowly tried to withdraw his arms from around her. She clamped down hard and refused to allow him to retreat, though it was still some time before she responded.
"Our positions sometimes require us to keep secrets from one another," Arya eventually said. "You are the Leader of our Order. It would not be right for me to question you for keeping such a thing to yourself."
"I am not just your Leader, though." Eragon said quietly. "I am also your mate, and you are my closest friend. I did not tell you because the spell would have wiped our conversation from your mind if I disclosed it in its entirety, and I will admit that it was easier to let everyone believe that our only goal was to stop Thorn." When she drew quiet again, Eragon quickly added, "I am still sorry. I can promise you that I do not intend to lie of such things again."
Arya twisted in the saddle in only the way an elf could; her legs remained stationary and her torso was nearly facing him, and the tension that must have been on her spine made Eragon wince.
"Forgiveness is not something I will give, for you do not need it." Arya said. Her sharp features softened, and Eragon leaned forward when she beckoned him. Their foreheads touched for a moment before Arya withdrew and righted herself in the saddle, and Eragon squeezed her tightly in his arms.
"I trust you, Eragon, more than I have trusted any other besides Fírnen. I agree that this is our best course to set ourselves upon."
"You were still hurt by my actions."
Arya shook her head, her hair whipping and catching against Eragon's face before being tugged away by the wind. "You cannot protect me from every harm, even from yourself."
Eragon loosened one of his arms and slid his hand up her front, running his thumb under the swell of her chest. "No, but I certainly can make it up to you."
She shivered at his words, though any further response from her was dissuaded when Fírnen suddenly bucked underneath them.
No. Fírnen growled. No, no, no, no! I refuse to allow the two of you to get carried away on my back! I may like your mate, Arya, and even pushed for the two of you to be together, but I will not subject myself to being a participate to his ministrations on you!
The back of Arya's neck reddened, and she briefly turned in the saddle to glare at Eragon. He could not help but chuckle at her look, one that Saphira echoed from her spot beside them as they flew along.
See? Saphira snorted, a plume of smoke leaving her nostrils. I told you it would be entertaining.
You are going to tell Glenwing, aren't you?
Was there any question I would not?
Eragon could not help but sigh.
Saphira and Fírnen flew on constantly for most of the remaining part of the day, only stopping briefly to allow Eragon to return to Saphira's saddle. While the younger dragon claimed that he could carry both of them with ease, both Eragon and Arya silently agreed that any time spent together wasn't worth tiring the dragon out any further than necessary. Saphira had taken charge of their course, angling them slightly north of Leona Lake so that they would cross the Toadark River. It was only during the final few hours of daylight that they finally crossed the River, the Leona Lake in the distance appearing nothing more than as a shining patch of earth.
There were few enough villages that they passed over during their travel, though both Saphira and Fírnen flew high enough in the sky that they would appear as no larger than a bird of prey. Only a handful of clouds hung in the sky around them, though when Eragon turned to peer behind them he could see the dark grey gathering that could not be anything other than a storm. They were unable to discern whether it would impact the Varden or not, but judging by their distance and the hue of the clouds Saphira believed that the army should be well clear of it before it arrived.
Their flight, after their lengthy discussion, had mostly been a quiet one, and Eragon spent much of his time reviewing the various pieces of information he managed to glean from Tenga's scroll on Grey Folk magic. Mostly he spent the time deep in their odd style of mediation, one that required him to look deeply inward instead of outward.
When he emerged from his self-induced mediation Arya asked for him to teach her some of what he learned, and he only stopped his lecture once Saphira and Fírnen decided that they had flown far enough for the day. They set down in a clearing just outside the Spine, the tall trees doing little to hide the massive mountains before them. The large, stony peaks of the mountains glistened even in the soft evening light, their snowcapped peaks seemingly a world unto their own.
Eragon's heart clenched at the sight; it had been over a century since he last laid eyes upon the mountains that once was his home, the familiar sight stirring long forgotten feelings inside him. Brief flashes of memories of his mother appeared before he pushed them aside, though he caught the odd glance Arya gave next to him. There was little need to prepare a tent for the night, so Eragon and Arya merely opted to unroll some of the soft linen bedding they had taken with them. The dragons would provide any shelter necessary, and no predator would dare venture near them.
Tomorrow we will land north of Teirm, so that we are fully rested for the trek across towards Vroengard, Saphira stated as she curled up around their makeshift campsite. Her length nearly encompassed them entirely, and what little space was left Fírnen claimed for his own.
Why not continue onward from there? How far away is Vroengard from where will land? Fírnen asked.
Around the same distance we flew from the Varden, Saphira answered.
I can do it, Fírnen argued, his tail thrashing against the ground.
Perhaps, Saphira said. But that is not my worry.
Eragon paused from digging through the saddle bags, glancing up at Saphira with concern. "Do you sense something?"
Saphira sniffed at the air, her tongue darting out quickly before disappearing. I can smell a storm in the air.
"Barzûl," Eragon cursed quietly.
Arya glanced at him; the concern she held clear in her eyes. "What is it?"
"The storms off the coast of Vroengard can be powerful," Eragon answered. "If we try to cross during the wrong time, we would be at the mercy of the wind."
I can manage it, Fírnen growled. I am a dragon, and the wind is mine to command.
You are still young, Saphira snorted. But our concern is not whether you can make it or not. The winds will force us whichever way they please.
Meaning?
"It will be difficult to stay together," Arya guessed, glancing at Saphira.
Yes. It will take us longer, but if we trek further up the coast, it may allow us to bypass the worst of the storm. If we cannot, then the two of you will need to tether us together with magic.
"Will that not be difficult?"
"Like trying to drag a boulder uphill, all the while the ground shakes." Eragon answered. At Arya's raised brow, Eragon huffed. "I only did that the one time."
Arya's brow steepled for a moment as she considered their options, then nodded at Saphira. "I suggest we go with Saphira's plan, then. No reason to tempt disaster when we can easily avoid it."
Fírnen grumbled lightly, his tail smacking the earth in indignation, though he did give his feelings voice.
Ah, to be young and foolish, Saphira rumbled, before laying her head down and closing her eyes.
"Some of us are still foolish," Arya murmured under her breath.
If it weren't for his enhanced hearing, Eragon would have missed her comment.
"I heard that!" he called back towards her.
"You were meant to," came the reply.
Eragon set down the apple he had chosen for dinner, placing it back into the small bag he had finally pulled from the larger saddle bag. Slowly, he made his way over to Arya as she dug through her own bag, careful to keep his steps light on the ground between them. Fírnen seemed keen on his thoughts, for the dragon kept shifting lightly before Arya, the sound of his scales scrapping across the dirt and rocks covering Eragon's light footsteps.
When he was directly behind her Eragon darted his hands out and gripped her waist tightly. Before she could respond he picked her up entirely, her slight weight barely noticeable as he threw Arya over his shoulder. The dragons rumbled in their laughter as Eragon took off at a sprint towards the surrounding woods with Arya in tow, ignoring her sounds of protest.
Do not take too long! Saphira called out to them. Fírnen rumbled louder in the clearing, and he felt Arya strike out with a fist against his back.
If she meant to cripple him, she could have easily struck a blow that would have sent him to his knees. It was only when he was some distance away from the clearing that Eragon put her down, delighting in the affronted look she gave him.
"Was it necessary to carry me away like an Urgal?" Arya stated, her fierce glare impressive.
Eragon smiled at her, amazed at the speed at which her fury melted away the moment their eyes met. A soft smile bloomed on her face, and Eragon gently wounded his arms around her frame.
"I did say I would make it up to you, didn't I?"
Green eyes peered up at him, a perfectly arched eyebrow springing upwards at his words. "Is now really the time?"
Eragon kissed her, delighted in the way she responded with just as much passion. When they broke apart Eragon placed his head against hers, peering into quickly darkening emerald eyes. "We shouldn't squander any time we can steal for ourselves."
Arya was the one this time to initiate, their lips locking together perfectly in a way that Eragon had never before experienced with anyone else.
"No we shouldn't," Arya managed to breath out, and Eragon gently lowered her down to the ground. The dirt did not seem to bother Arya, and when she quickly tried to divest him of his tunic Eragon decided that it did not bother him either.
It was dark when they returned, the soft glow of moonlight providing the only light for them in which to see. They moved quietly together towards the awaiting bed rolls, their meals long since forgotten, the only sound around them the deep breathing that echoed from both dragons surrounding them.
Arya had placed the two bedrolls together on the ground in between Saphira and Fírnen, and she slowly lowered herself to the ground. Eragon followed behind her, curling up around her body once they were situated.
He let out a deep breath, the coolness of the air washing over his warm skin. Nestled behind Arya with his head buried in her raven hair, it seemed the perfect moment to Eragon.
Have fun? Saphira said, almost startling Eragon.
He huffed silently in his head, a slight embarrassment rising. Yes. Is it necessary to tease me every time Arya and I disappear together?
Yes.
Hmm.
Saphira was quiet for a moment, and Eragon tightened his grip on Arya beside him. Her hand descended down to grip his wrist. She pulled slightly until he loosened his hold, her small fingers twining with his own.
I am happy for you, little one. Saphira eventually said, her voice soft and warm. We have experienced much in our lives, many of which have not been ones filled with joy. That you should find a mate who wants nothing from you but who you are is all I need to be assured of Arya's place beside you.
A warmth took up residence in his chest, and Eragon couldn't help but smile. Thank you, Saphira.
You are welcome, little one. Though, Saphira paused, a hint of mirth rising in her voice, you should remove the leaves from your hair.
Eragon huffed and reached up his hand and found the offending piece of debris, brushing it away with a soft chuckle.
Arya stirred in front of him, her head twisting until emerald eyes met his own. He gave her a gentle smile, one that Arya returned before turning back over. Eragon let out a gentle breath, letting the call of his waking dreams finally pull him under.
The morning found them readying themselves quickly, the approaching storm hastening their movements. Saphira and Fírnen launched into the air just as the morning sun crested over the tree line, the mountainous terrain that was the Spine looming in the distance. The two dragons angled themselves high into the air, and every so often Eragon would catch a glimpse of small villages that dotted the landscape below.
It hadn't been that long ago that he and Saphira had visited such villages before, the people living outside of Alagaësia surprisingly welcoming even to a dragon. Now, though, the people under the Empire's rule only knew of Murtagh and Galbatorix, and he could hear cries of fear ringing out as the two dragons passed overhead.
Saphira led the way through the Spine, using the valleys between the terrain to thread their way towards the coast. Teirm lay directly ahead of them on the other side of the Spine, the city located on the shores of Alagaësia and near where the Toadark River met the sea. In order to avoid the city they eventually turned northward, the many valleys between the mountains making it easy to maneuver their way through.
Most of the day was spent following the valleys until the sun had begun its descent, the seemingly endless mountains of the Spine finally giving way to the open rain-soaked fields that surrounded Teirm. Conversation flew easily between the four of them, often breaking out into small discussions that carried on for hours. Sometimes Eragon and Arya would leave the minds of the dragons to engage in their own private talks, though neither of the dragons seemed to mind.
As the sun began to crest over the horizon Eragon finally asked Saphira, Where do you want to land?
She took a moment to consider their options. She was far better at navigation than Eragon, her instincts and knowledge of their position more than Eragon could manage. Look towards the south for me, Saphira eventually asked.
Twisting in the saddle, Eragon cast his gaze towards where the city of Teirm lay. Faint amber lights were starting to emerge from the city, though they were hard to make out from both the distance and the final light of the sun descended over them. Faintly he could make out a bright yellow speck of light far above the city, and he allowed Saphira to peer through his eyes.
The lighthouse at Teirm is lit, Saphira commented to the group.
What does that mean? Fírnen asked.
The storm is approaching, Arya answered. Eragon heard a small hint of worry in her voice. He shared a look with her across the air and offered a small smile.
We continue on northward, Saphira decided. The city of Narda is the closest point on Alagaësia to Vroengard. By the movement of the storm we will need to leave early before the sun rises, lest we risk finding ourselves amidst the storm proper.
If that is what you think is best, Fírnen grumbled, his voice deepening and making Eragon lightly wince. The eagerness Fírnen felt was common to young dragons; Saphira was much the same at his age, always striving to pit herself against the world and show her strength.
He will calm with age, Saphira said privately to Eragon. The fire in his veins is still hot.
At least he listens to reason, Eragon pointed out. You would have challenged any who dared suggest that you could not make the trek across the sea.
That is because I could have, Saphira snorted.
Eragon merely patted the scales of her neck in reply.
The moon was high in the night sky by the time they finally reached the outer limits of Narda. Little was visible of the city from the distance, and all that Eragon could make out was the various orange glow of torches and lanterns that dotted the horizon. Saphira began a slow descent downward, and it took them nearly half an hour to finally reach the ground. Setting up their camp was done in minutes, and as Eragon readied a late meal Arya set about casting various wards around them.
Eragon and Arya ate their meal and settled themselves down on their combined bedrolls quickly, the two dragons already deep into their own slumber.
A gentle mental prod roused Eragon from his waking slumber, and he opened his eyes to Saphira standing over the sleeping pair.
The storm grows closer, Saphira warned him.
Aye, Eragon said, removing his hand that was wrapped around Arya's waist and shaking her shoulder gently. Saphira moved off as Arya blinked into awareness, her emerald eyes peering up at Eragon curiously.
"We need to go," he said quietly.
Arya nodded before pulling away from him, moving to roll up her bedroll silently. Eragon did the same, though he often found his gaze flickering towards the south. Fírnen -likely wakened by Arya- yawned, his pearly white teeth glinting in the moonlight. Saphira had moved a few feet away from the camp and was peering towards the south, her claws digging into the soft ground.
Eragon stepped up towards her and placed his hand on her side, the warmth of her scales sharply contrasting against the chill of the night. He could sense an undercurrent of worry inside her, the small nugget of emotion burrowing its way through her mind.
What is it? Eragon asked her, running his hand over her scales lightly.
The storm, Saphira answered him, her claws clenching tightly before relaxing. She repeated the movement again before speaking, and she did nothing to hide her worry from him. Fírnen will struggle if we are caught in its grasp.
He is strong and well trained.
Yes, Saphira answered. Glaedr and I saw to that ourselves. But it would be difficult to stay together in the air, and I fear that the wind could push us far off course. If it does, it could take us days to find land.
That is why we traveled north instead, Eragon said, trying to reassure her.
We shall see if that was enough.
The wind was slowly starting to pick up speed, something that only Saphira and Fírnen at first noticed. When Eragon asked how long before the edges of the storm would reach them, Saphira commented that they should be well on their way towards Vroengard before then.
It was of a mild relief to Eragon, though he kept a weathered eye on the horizon to the south of them. He could see the monstrous clouds looming in the distance, taller than even the highest peak in the Beor Mountains. Their dark coloring blotted out the coastline behind them, and Eragon was glad of Saphira's decision to divert their course.
The sea below was glistening brightly in the early morning light, the waves below crashing into each other with a betraying calmness. Eragon ate a small meal of cheese and bread once the sun had fully risen, stretching lightly in the saddle as the hours slowly passed them by.
Conversation was frequent for most of the early leg of the trip, though as the winds continued to gain in strength their talks dipped off until stopping completely. Fírnen struggled behind Saphira enough that she had to slow her pace, which had the unintended consequence of causing the emerald dragon to push himself further.
By midday, the winds had not altered too much from the morning, though Saphira kept urging Eragon to keep a weathered eye on the gathering storms. Eragon was in the middle of surveying the storm when suddenly Saphira dipped into a dive, her wings tucked tight to her body.
Swinging around and grasping the saddle tightly in his hands, Eragon pushed his mind out towards Saphira. The strong winds from her dive forced him to close his eyes, and so he was left with only the ability to ask, what's wrong?
Nothing, Saphira said before just as suddenly leveling off. With a mental gesture she pushed his gaze towards Fírnen in front of them. Blinking away the tears from his eyes Eragon was finally able to see what caused Saphira's rapid descent.
Fírnen was several hundred feet below them, his wings pushing hard against the waves of the ocean below. He could not have been more than a few feet above the water, and the occasional plume of mist made it evident that the dragon had dipped and ran his foreleg through the waves.
He stated that he was growing bored of the flight, Saphira snorted, and wanted a closer look at the water.
Ah, Eragon replied, leaning back and letting out a breath as he relaxed. It is only to be expected. Neither he nor Arya have ever seen the ocean before.
Do you remember the first time we flew to Vroengard? Saphira asked him. We were to meet Oromis at-.
A sudden sense of panic erupted from the Eldunarí on Saphira's back, and Eragon winced as Glaedr's thundered in all of their minds. Take off! Now, now, now! Take off!
Without wasted breath Fírnen did just that, his wings pummeling the air below as he tried to rise as quickly as he could. Arya, from what Eragon could see, desperately clung onto the saddle as Fírnen gained height, and Eragon felt a sense of desperation grow inside of him at the sight of her worried look.
Saphira had angled herself slightly down at Glaedr's call to action, and Eragon was quick to cast his mind down in the direction the older dragon directed him.
Deep below the surface of the water, rising with an astonishing speed was something Eragon had never encountered before personally. The unfathomable mind he touched was as ravenous as anything he ever experienced, and colder than any winter's day. A fountain of water erupted behind Fírnen and Arya, a pair of shiny gray jaws emerging. They were easily large enough to swallow a horse whole, and when they snapped shut Eragon held his breath for a long moment.
The monster fell back into the water, parts of its body becoming visible against the surface, but Eragon only had eyes for Fírnen and Arya below them. They had narrowly missed being eaten by the creature, and Eragon desperately cast his mind out to Arya.
She lowered her shields instantly at his touch, though the worry he felt bubbling inside must have startled her as she nearly tossed him out of her mind.
Are you okay? Eragon asked, gripping the saddle in front of him tightly.
Yes, Arya said, glancing up at him. He gave her a small smile and tried to slow his pounding heart. Was that a-.
Nïdhwal, Glaedr answered for him.
Fírnen shook himself lightly in the air and steadily rose to join Saphira. And what is a Nïdhwal?
They are rare and not often spoken about, Glaedr answered. You would have learned about them during your training, Fírnen, but we did not think it wise to spend our limited time going over every creature that haunts the unexplored regions of Alagaësia. They are, to answer your question, cousins to the dragon, closer to us than the Fanghur. They are intelligent in their own right and possess a structure similar to the Eldunarí in their chest, which is believed to allow them to survive submerged for extended periods of time.
Fírnen seemed to want to question Glaedr further on the creature, but Arya spoke first before he could. Glaedr-elda, might I ask how you sensed the creature before we did?
The older dragon grumbled slightly; You should be glad that I was here to sense it at all. I was merely curious as to your progress and sensed its presence when I stretched myself outward.
Thank you, Ebrithil, Fírnen said.
Their presence is worrying, Glaedr commented, and I suspect it may have something to do with the Fall of the Riders. They were never so bold or so desperate.
Are there other creatures such as the Nïdhwal? Fírnen asked.
A few.
Eragon tuned out their conversation and leaned his head against Saphira's neck, his once racing heart now steady. He let out a sigh and closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of Saphira's warm scales.
The storm edged closer as the night wore on, and Saphira led Fírnen through the rising gales. They would at times gust strong enough to completely stall their flight for a few moments before finally abating. Saphira was centuries older than Fírnen and had encountered such weather before, and spent much of their flight coaching the younger dragon on techniques to deal with the stronger winds.
As night fell around them Eragon cast a few spells to keep himself warm, glad to see that Arya had already done so for herself. He made sure to check the spells on the bags containing the Eldunarí as well, as they could potentially crack if the temperatures dipped too low during the night.
The would, according to Saphira, be able to spot Vroengard sometime in the morning so long as they were able to keep the same pace. The darkness that surrounded them made it difficult for Eragon to see the clouds gathering behind them, but the lack of starlight in that region of the sky made it apparent that they were not outside of its grasp just yet.
It was also the first time Fírnen had flown for so long, as even during their journey from Ellesméra to Surda they would stop often enough for the young dragon to rest. He was performing admirably, Glaedr informed him, though the older dragon had begun to slowly feed Fírnen some of his own energy to replace that which he had lost. Eragon tried to sleep as much as he could, though the intense winds made it nearly impossible for him to get even more than a minute's rest.
When daybreak finally came, even Saphira was beginning to feel fatigued. She denied offers of replenishment from both Eragon and Glaedr, though Eragon was able to tell through their bond that her wings were beginning to feel sluggish.
Over there! Arya called out to them, shaking Eragon away from his thoughts. He glanced over at her from his position atop Saphira, following her outstretched arm towards the north.
A ring of mountains peaked above the horizon, their tips coated with snow and ice. Soft white clouds bunched together and gave the mountainous terrain a hazy appearance, and the light that reflected from the early morning sun off the white-tipped mountain made Eragon briefly shield his eyes.
Aras Thelduin, Saphira said quietly to Eragon. After a century we finally returned home.
Eragon patted the scales of her neck gently. Aye.
Is that our destination? Fírnen asked, his exhaustion giving way to excitement. He dipped slightly in the air before regaining his composure, though there came no rebuke from Arya atop his back. Instead she gazed at the distant mountains in silent awe, her face filled with wonderment.
The fire mountains that guard the heart of Vroengard, Saphira answered. She let out a fierce roar, one filled with lament and grief, and through his connection to Glaedr Eragon could feel the older dragon respond in kind miles away.
So, here we are. It's taking me a while to write these chapters, which I know must be frustrating especially because we are nearing the end of this story. Hopefully you all can hang in there, because life is starting to get increasingly busy (story of everyone's life lol).
I appreciate all of your kind words, and it means the world to me that you are enjoying this journey as much as I am.
Some of you may have noticed that Keres kinda disappeared. I had written (not comptelely, to be honest) a part of this chapter to include him in it, but to me it didn't flow right with the story. Besides, I might have a better idea for Keres judgement for the future.
Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter. Let me know in the reviews! Every time I see a notification (1. It helps remind me to write more) and 2. it brings a smile to my face every time I read all of your kind words.
Till next time!
Ancient Language translations (Old Norse):
Italics represents the Old Norse translation; Bold represents Ancient Language.
Fyrir Neðan – Below Something. Fallen One
Du vættr Bani – The Bane of Spirits: Name of the Brotherhood
Vættr - being, creature; supernatural being, spirit.
Bani - death; bane, cause of death, slayer
Skörungr – leader, notable or outstanding person, paragon. Title for Leader of the Riders; given as an honor.
Guliä waíse medh ono, Skörungr - Luck be with you, Leader.
Grœnn – green. Verdant. More accurately, the color of the forest.
Grœnnskular – Verdant-scales.
Lengr – For a longer time
Ginnung – space, void
Lengr-Ginnug – Spacetime Tenga's definition of Space and Time as one concept
Istalrí - Flames
Freohr – Death
Blöthr – Stop, halt.