A sharp jab to side his side roused Eragon, and he let out a grunt of protest as he grabbed the offending appendage. Blinking against the sunlight that filtered into his tent, Eragon slowly made out the form of Glenwing standing over top him, a smirk firmly on his face. Sitting up, Eragon let go of Glenwing's hand, rubbing his own against his tired eyes.
"That was rude," Eragon said slowly, feeling sluggish. He was unsure of how long he had slept, and could not recall any dreams from the night prior.
"You were snoring," Glenwing chuckled, taking a step back to let Eragon stand. "And its nearly midday. Time for all good Riders to rise."
"Midday?" Eragon muttered, grabbing the tunic he laid on last night before falling into his cot with Arya. At the thought of her, Eragon froze, his eyes sweeping across the area inside his tent. There was no trace of the elf from last night, though he could still detect a hint of the crushed pine needles that followed in her wake.
"Looking for something?" Glenwing asked, raising a brow at Eragon. "Or should I say someone?"
Glaring at the elf, Eragon pulled on his tunic and strapped Brisingr to his waist. It seemed even Glenwing could tell that Arya had visited him last night. Ignoring the elf's teasing, Eragon asked, "Why did you wake me?"
A glint appeared in Glenwing's eyes, though Eragon was glad that the elf did not protest at the change of subject. "Brom asked me to find you, as apparently your long-lost relative grows restless."
"Heard about that, did you?" Eragon shook off the sleepiness that clouded his mind, though his limbs still ached from the battle.
"Arya filled me in earlier this morning at the meeting. That you were supposed to attend," Glenwing glowered, though Eragon could sense the amusement in the elf's words.
"Hmm," Eragon hummed, pushing past the elf and stepping outside. The sounds of men moving around met his ears, and he could see many of the soldiers of the Varden tiredly recovering from the previous battle. Many were still wounded, with bandages wrapped around their figures, though they wore smiles and exchanged heartily laughs with their comrades. It seemed the victory of the previous evening had boosted their moral, and Eragon let himself relax, let going of a tension he didn't know he carried.
"Wasn't told of a meeting," Eragon continued as Glenwing moved to settle in beside him as they made their way towards Brom's tent.
"Not surprising, considering how fiercely Arya countered any attempt to wake you."
Furrowing a brow, Eragon hummed a response.
"You didn't miss much," Glenwing informed him. "Mostly about recovering the dead from the battlefield, and how we should treat the wounded and such. Some bit about securing our location, though I hardly paid attention to that. Orik did state that the dwarves would depart soon, in order to bring Hrothgar's remains back to Tronjheim. Nasuada and the others were upset, but there is nothing they can do yet. Though Nasuada did say she wishes to speak to you eventually about that."
"I'm not sure how much help I can be with the dwarves," Eragon stated, his voice somber, "But I will do what I can."
They moved quickly through the Varden encampment, soldiers saluting the pair of them as they passed. It seemed Glenwing had won the favor of many of the men of the Varden, as Eragon hardly noticed any of the usual scorn associated with elves that humans displayed. Still, some glared and moved away from them, unused to their unusual appearance.
Before long they arrived at his father's tent, which looked the same as Eragon's own. Brom was hardly the sort to display opulence as others did, more used to the life of Rider on the move. Brom was seated outside the tent with Roran, talking in quiet words as he puffed on his pipe. At their arrival Brom held up a hand in greeting, which Eragon returned.
"Morning," Brom stated, a smirk appearing as he lowered his pipe.
"Forgive me for needing some rest," Eragon deadpanned. "Had quite a difficult day yesterday."
"As did we all," Brom murmured.
Roran stood, holding out a hand to Eragon in greeting. "Eragon. Forgive me for this, but I fear my request cannot wait."
Eragon clasped Roran's arm, nodding. "It's alright. Tell me what I can do for you."
The young man's face clouded over with anger, and Eragon saw his muscles tense as he began to speak. "We were forced out of Carvahall when the Ra'zac attacked, and they took my fiancée."
Shock ran through Eragon, and he glanced at Brom. "The Ra'zac? What would they want with Carvahall?"
A shroud of darkness fell over his father's features. "They attacked because of me. Galbatorix must have learned that I lived there, and he must have thought I returned there with the Fírnen's egg."
"I see," Eragon commented. "Tell me how it happened, Roran."
Roran ran a hand across his face, as though weary of the memories Eragon had asked after. "My father, Garrow, was a farmer. I took up a job in Therinsford with a miller, in order to support Katrina. My fiancée." Roran paused a moment, his face stricken. "Her father, Sloan, did not approve of our union, and I needed a livelihood that he would approve of, so I left. I returned after the Ra'zac attacked, only to find my father and his farm burned to the ground."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Eragon said lowly.
Roran nodded, though Eragon suspected the man hardly heard his words. "We fled into the Spine when the Ra'zac returned, but they had managed to capture Katrina and a few others during their raid. We got into a skirmish with them and their soldiers, and we realized that we would either be killed or enslaved, so we decided to abandon our home. We heard tales of the battle in Farthen Dûr, so we decided that our best chances were with the Varden. We travelled to Teirm and met up with Jeod, and we stole the Dragon Wing with Captain Uthar and his men."
"That is quite the tale," Eragon said. Admittedly, it sounded like something he would have done. Still, he had to give Roran credit for being able to pull off such a stunt. "Though there is one thing that I am unclear of."
Turning to his father, Eragon asked, "you said the Ra'zac attacked because they thought you had the egg, but how did they know of your involvement? And why suspect you return to Carvahall instead of the Varden?"
"I do not know, but I think Galbatorix may have learned of Selena's brother's descendants. It was why I remained in Carvahall after all," Brom said.
"So, it is true, then?" Roran stated, his face showing his surprise. "You are Selena's child? That would make us family, would it not?"
"Only separated by three-hundred years," Eragon smiled, "But yes, I suppose it does. Galbatorix going after any remaining family of both Brom and myself does make sense, especially if Murtagh has told Galbatorix about my life."
"A way to gain control over the both of you," Glenwing interjected. He turned to Roran, "If he knew Brom was watching over you and your family, he may have wanted a way to control both Brom and Eragon, and ensure a tighter grip on Murtagh as well."
Eragon noticed Roran's furrowed brows, and his quick glances between Brom and himself. "Roran?" Eragon prodded.
"You are an elf," Roran stated, his eyes catching on Eragon's pointed tips. "I could see how you would be nearly three centuries old, but how is Brom your father?"
Brom chuckled, though it was Eragon who answered with a small smile on his face. "I am not an elf, though I appear as such. The dragon's magic changed me, as they do all humans, though mine is more pronounced than most."
"So, you are human?" Roran asked, his face still clouded in confusion.
Eragon shrugged. "I was born a human, yes."
"Are the two of you immortal?" Roran asked, his eyes wide.
"Eragon is," Brom responded slowly, "and I was once as well. Human Rider's gain immortality when they become bonded with dragons, but when I lost mine, the magic slowly began to fade from me. It's why I started aging and was able to hide more effectively from Galbatorix and the others."
Roran nodded, though Eragon could still see that he did not fully grasp the concept. Trying to get them back to the reason he was here, Eragon asked, "So what is it you wished of me?"
Roran swallowed heavily, squaring his shoulders and feet. "I ask your help in finding and freeing Katrina. Brom said that you were the only one strong enough to face the Ra'zac."
Eragon glanced at Glenwing, who merely shrugged in reply to Eragon's silent question. "Are you certain she still lives?"
The stricken look returned to Roran's face, and the young man shook his head in answer. "No."
"I can cast a spell to see her location and if she still lives," Eragon said, watching as Roran's eyes widened with joy briefly. "But I do not know what she looks like. In order to do so, I need to enter your mind and examine your memories of her with your permission."
"Yes," Roran said quickly, "What do I need to do?"
"Hold an image of her in your mind," Eragon explained, slowly stretching his mind out to Roran, "As complete and full as you can manage. If it is easier, use a memory that you hold dear to yourself with her. It will make this much easier for the both of us."
Roran nodded, and Eragon swept into his mind. Roran held no defenses against him, though he did notice the man flinch again. Reminding himself to teach Roran how to shield his mind, Eragon examined the memory Roran held. Copper colored hair filled his vision, and Eragon could smell her as the memory of Roran breathed in deeply. They were seated somewhere secluded in the forest, with the birds chirping merely around them. Just as the woman opened her mouth to speak, the memory broke apart, and Eragon retreated with the image of her firmly in his mind.
Roran stumbled when Eragon fully left his mind, only to be caught by Brom. "Was that enough?" Brom asked.
"Yes," Eragon said. Kneeling, Eragon whispered a spell into the dirt. He watched as a hole formed in the harsh ground, and he felt the drain of the spell as it searched for any available water. After a moment some slowly trickled in, and once it was deep enough Eragon whispered, "Draumr kópa."
An image of Katrina formed slowly, and he heard Roran gasp as he took her in. The woman was slumped against a wall, and Eragon frowned when he realized that he must have known where she was, as otherwise she would have appeared in an empty void. Invisible manacles held her in place, and he could see bruises as well as numerous cuts adorning her figure.
"She's alive!" Roran said, his hands reaching out as though he could breach the water to take hold of her.
"Aye," Eragon said, frowning. He looked up at Brom, though his father shook his head in response.
"Where is she?" Roran asked, his gaze locked onto his fiancée.
"I-I don't know," Eragon said. "But I must, somehow, else I wouldn't be able to see the wall she against."
Eragon held the spell, retreating into his own memories. In the background he could hear Roran's inquiry as to his meaning, as well as Brom's gruff voice explaining how the dream stare spell worked. He swept through his own memories, casting back far into his mind long before he left Alagaësia. He must have visited whatever cell she was held in long ago, and it took him nearly a full minute to realize where she was.
"Helgrind." Eragon said. "Why are the Ra'zac in Dras-Leona?"
"They made it their home after the war." Brom explained. "Galbatorix employs them to his own ends, and he granted them shelter in the mountain. There is cult that worships them in the city, though how many survived the Ra'zac War remains unclear."
"When did you visit Helgrind?" Glenwing asked, an eyebrow raised. "And how did you not know that they now call it home?"
"I've missed out on the last hundred years," Eragon bristled, letting go of the spell holding the image of Katrina. "And I visited the mountain long ago, on another of the missions the Riders sent me on."
Roran's eyes alighted on Eragon, and Eragon watched as a sort of determination filled the man. "Will you help me?"
Eragon studied the man, taking in Roran's countenance. He glanced at his father, but Brom remained still, though Eragon could see a hint of darkness in his father's eyes. "Yes," Eragon said. "We are cousins, in a way, and it is because of Brom's and my own actions that such tragedy has happened upon you. I cannot deny either that ridding the world of the Ra'zac wouldn't benefit the Varden in the long run either."
Roran sighed heavily, relief filling the young man. "Thank you. When can we go?"
Thinking, Eragon casted his mind out to Saphira, searching for her amongst the minds of the Varden. After a moment Eragon found her, letting their minds meld together. She was with Fírnen with Arya, though he was unable to see what the elf was doing.
Yes, little-one?
Eragon shared his memories of the conversation, letting her peruse them until she was satisfied.
Hmm. You are certain of this?
Yes, Eragon responded.
Very well. I will meet you at Nasuada's tent.
The connection between them faded into the background, though he could feel her rousing herself from her rest and move towards his tent. Roran and the others were staring at him, waiting for his word.
"We go now," Eragon said. "There is no better time. The Empire would hardly expect a raid in Dras-Leona, especially with the Varden still fighting here at the border. Murtagh was heavily weakened after our last fight, and I doubt Thorn will leave his side until he is recovered."
Brom studied him for a moment, weighing his words. After a moment he nodded, "I agree. Galbatorix will likely chastise them for losing to you, and as long as Arya and Fírnen remain here, the Varden will have nothing to fear."
Glenwing sighed, "As much as I wish I could join you; I think its best that I stay here with the Varden."
Eragon nodded, clasping his hand against the elf's shoulder. "Thank you, my friend."
"Arya will not be pleased, you know," Glenwing said, smirking at Eragon.
Eragon sighed, dropping his hand. "Don't tease her when I leave, Glenwing. Else I fear I will return to find you naught but ash and bone."
Glenwing blinked, his face paling at the thought. "That much is true. Without you here to sooth her wrath, I shudder to think of what she could do to me."
"How you spent decades with her I will never know," Eragon muttered. Turning to the others, Eragon ignored their curious stares. "Meet me at my tent once you have finished preparing yourself. Gather some supplies for the both of us. Glenwing will help you."
The elf sighed, but nodded at Eragon. Roran glanced wearily at Glenwing, though he quickly followed behind when the elf moved away.
Brom cleared his throat, his fingers fiddling with the pipe still in his hand. The embers had long since burned out, and his father refrained from relighting them. "Thank you, my son."
Eragon smiled at Brom, leaving the old Rider to himself as he made his way towards Nasuada's tent.
The Nighthawk's let him in without comment, saluting Eragon as he passed. Eragon nodded his thanks, stepping into the tent. Nasuada was waiting for him already, as was Arya. Both wore furrowed brows and intense expressions, and Eragon steeled himself for the conversation ahead.
Nasuada granted him a small smile as he entered, waving him over to the table they used for their meetings. "Arya has told me of your plan, and I have to say that I do not agree with it."
Eragon met Arya's gaze for the first time since the previous night, a shiver running through him. It seemed she was similarly affected, for her eyes turned away from him quickly and alighted on the table in front of her.
Striding up, Eragon sat opposite Nasuada at the table, with Arya to her left. "Saphira told you, I take it?" Eragon asked the elf.
"Yes," Arya replied. He could not discern her emotions, shielded behind her usual stoic expression.
"Leaving now will leave us vulnerable," Nasuada argued, "And though I empathize with Roran's plight, I cannot endorse this mission in good conscience."
"I know that you do not agree with it," Eragon stated firmly, "But I am going regardless. Even Brom has agreed with me in that this is necessary."
"And if Murtagh returns?" Arya said, her eyes finally returning to him. "Fírnen and I cannot fight him alone, not without your aid."
"He won't return, not for a while," Eragon countered. "Not after that battle. Now is the perfect time, for neither Galbatorix nor his army would expect us to do this." Running a hand through his hair, Eragon continued, "Besides, you will still have Glenwing here. The two of you can no doubt hold out against anything else Galbatorix may decide to throw against the Varden. On Saphira, Roran and I can journey to Helgrind quickly and return in only a few days."
Nasuada was quiet for a moment, and Eragon could see her mind turning over his argument. She let out a sigh, "My father trusted you, Eragon, as do I. If you feel this is necessary, then there is nothing more I can say."
"Thank you, Nasuada." Eragon said, tilting his head in acknowledgement. "I heard that Orik and the dwarves will leave soon in order to bury Hrothgar."
"Yes," she replied, and for a second Eragon saw her heartfelt grief over the King's death. "The dwarves will need to elect a new King, and I wanted your input on the matter, but that can wait for another day."
"Very well," Eragon said, standing. Arya stood as well, and Eragon expected that she wished to speak with him privately. Nasuada glanced at the elf, but said nothing as she began to follow him out of the tent. "We will depart as soon as we are able. If we are lucky, we should return in a few days' time."
"Fair winds and safe journey, Eragon," Nasuada said, and Eragon bid her goodbye as he left the tent.
Arya followed behind him, and when he stopped questioningly, Arya nodded in the direction of his tent. Taking her silent suggestion, Eragon waded his way through the Varden with Arya following close behind him.
They arrived at his tent quickly, Saphira and Fírnen already in the clearing that Saphira slept in. She had dragged the saddle out of his tent, the bags haphazardly tossed about next to her as she waited for them. Chuckling, Eragon greeted Saphira with a hand down her scales. She hummed at him, and Eragon set about strapping the saddle to her back.
Arya began to help him after a moment, though she remained quiet as they worked. Every so often Eragon would catch Fírnen's amber eye, and it seemed as if the dragon was enjoying watching Eragon squirm as he waited for Arya to speak.
Taking a deep breath, Eragon stepped next to Arya as she tightened one of the leather straps securing Saphira's saddle. "Do you disagree with my plan?"
"I understand the logic behind it, and Saphira told me some of the story Roran shared with you." Arya stated.
"But?" Eragon prodded.
Arya was quiet as she gathered her words, and after a moment turned to face him. "But I would feel much better if you did not venture into the Empire recklessly."
"Will it make you feel better if I promise not to be so reckless?" Eragon asked, watching as a smile appeared on Arya's face as she chuckled lightly.
"No, but thank you." Arya said quietly.
Eragon nodded, stepping back from Saphira when he finished strapping on the bags to her saddle. "Listen, Arya, about last night."
As soon as he spoke the words, Arya froze. Even Saphira and Fírnen stilled, the two having been privy to the Riders clandestine meeting. "There's nothing more that needs to be said," Arya stated after a moment.
Eragon blinked. "But we didn't even talk about it, because you left."
"Left?" came from behind him, the sudden intrusion making both Eragon and Arya jump. Fírnen rumbled in his laughter, and he even saw Saphira grinning a toothy smile from the corner of his eye. "Left where?"
Turning around, Eragon glared at Glenwing as the elf smiled behind him. "I'm going to tie a bell to you neck, and strangle you with it," Eragon muttered darkly.
Glenwing chuckled, and Eragon saw Roran following closely behind the elf. Both carried bags, placing them gently on the ground. Roran appeared confused by their conversation, and Eragon realized with a start that they were communicating in the ancient language. Switching over to the common tongue, Eragon said, "One of these days, Glenwing, you're going to stumble into something you very much wish you didn't."
"Oh, come now," the elf said, helping Eragon and Arya in securing their supplies to Saphira's saddle. The elf switched over to the common tongue as well, and continued, "I already know that Arya spent the night in your tent."
Eragon dropped the bag in his hand, grimacing as he stooped to pick it back up. As he did, he glanced over at Arya, watching as her brows furrowed and eyes darkened. "Glenwing!" Eragon warned.
Arya took a step towards the elf, and Eragon hastily put himself between them. "Thank you, Glenwing, for gathering the supplies for me."
Arya made to step around him, so Eragon quickly said, "Will you help Roran onto Saphira while I talk with Arya?"
Glenwing eyed him, clearly wishing to listen in, but a glance at Arya had him saying, "Gladly."
Eragon sighed with relief as Glenwing and Roran stepped away, and Eragon turned his attention to Arya. She was glaring at the other elf, her eyes tracking his movements carefully. "Don't kill him while I'm gone."
His words must have surprised her, for she turned her stare away from Glenwing and towards him. "So long as he doesn't continue with his remarks."
"Glenwing stop teasing someone? The world would collapse into chaos if such a thing happened," Eragon offered.
His comment got a smile from Arya, and he was glad when she relaxed her posture after a moment. Still, she eyed him warily, as if expecting him to pester her about their earlier talk. Steeling himself, Eragon said, "When I return, I do wish to talk about it, Arya. But I will not push you."
Arya gave him a sharp nod, her expression flashing quickly before settling on something soft. "Be careful, Eragon. The Ra'zac are a dangerous enemy, and you will be far away from any help."
Eragon smiled at her, "I will be as careful as I can, and I promise I will return soon."
Arya nodded her head, turning to gaze at the others quickly. Glenwing was showing Roran how to climb up Saphira's side, even as the dragoness crouched low on her belly to aid the human. Seeing that they were unwatched, Arya embraced him quickly. Before he could return the gesture, she pulled back, her lips darting in to press against his cheek.
Feeling a flush rise inside him, Eragon grasped her arm. They peered at each other for a moment, and it was only when a shout of success from Glenwing rang out did Eragon pull himself from her gaze. His hand fell away from her as he approached Glenwing. The elf's eyes flickered between Eragon and Arya, though for once Glenwing did not comment. "Take care my friend, and tell my father that I said farewell."
Glenwing nodded, clasping arms with Eragon. "I will. Safe journey, Eragon, Saphira. And you as well, Roran," the elf called up to the man seated on Saphira's back. Roran shouted down a thanks, and Saphira let out a breath full of smoke as Eragon leapt up Saphira's side with ease.
Seating himself in front of Roran, Eragon strapped his legs into the saddle. When he was done, he turned to Roran and asked, "Ready?"
His distant relative looked uneasy on dragonback, though he offered Eragon a nod after a fashion. "Aye, let us go."
Saphira spread her wings and leapt into the sky, her powerful wings sweeping them towards the Empire.
Roran shifted behind Eragon, the man's arms tightening as Saphira descended through the cloud layers. They had flown for the rest of the day, and as the sun descended Saphira had chosen to land near the riverbed. Following the Jiet River back up to Dras-Leona seemed the easiest route, and they had covered much distance in the few hours that had since passed.
"Alright?" Eragon asked over the rushing wind.
"Aye," Roran muttered. "Not something I am used to."
"It takes time, but Saphira is a most excellent flyer."
Saphira hummed underneath him, her wings angled to slow her descent as the ground came up to meet them. She settled lightly on the ground, crouching low for Roran's benefit. The two of them descended her back after unstrapping their needed supplies, and set about making camp for the night.
Eragon whispered a spell, igniting the small campfire that they had. As the flames rose higher, Roran peered curiously at Eragon.
When the stare became uncomfortable, even for Eragon, he said, "Speak your mind, cousin."
Roran's eyebrows rose at the mention of their relation, though he instead said, "Can all Riders cast magic?"
"Aye," Eragon replied. "If they couldn't before they were chosen as a Rider, they would gain the ability as soon as they bonded." Eragon flashed Roran his palm, showing the man his Gedwëy Ignasia.
"Dragons give their Riders magic?" Roran asked incredulously, his face showing his disbelief plainly. He saw Roran flash his eyes over to Saphira, who laid curled around them protectively. She blinked at him, though did not seem to take offense to his surprise.
"All dragons have magic, though theirs is much different to the ones we use. It is through the magic of the bond that Riders gain their abilities, and we in turn give them our service." Eragon explained. He poked at the fire for a moment, his eyes watching as the flames slowly turned from the blue of his magic to the fires normal red and orange glow.
"What sort of bond is between you?"
"One that is for life, and binds us both in mind and soul." Eragon explained. "It is a dragon who chooses their Rider, though I have never heard of Rider who did not want to be bonded."
"So, you had no choice in the matter?" Roran said, his fingers playing with the hammer that never left his side. Eragon could sense no ill intent from the man, so he figured it was simply a habit that had developed as a comfort.
"Not really, though I had always wanted to be a Rider ever since I first saw my father's dragon, Saphira. Murtagh and I used to play together and pretend we were Riders off fighting injustice, and I suppose one of us is now fulfilling that dream."
"I had heard tales that said you and Murtagh were brothers," Roran admitted.
"Half," Eragon corrected. "Our mother, Selena, cared for both of us when we were younger, though that was a long time ago."
Roran seemed to understand that Eragon did not wish to speak further on the matter, and instead turned his gaze to Saphira. "I never seen such a creature before, and it's hard to believe that once there were hundreds in Alagaësia."
Saphira snorted, her eyes glinting as she said, I thought much the same of you humans when I first hatched. How quickly your kind repopulates and spreads.
"She speaks!" Roran exclaimed when Eragon relayed her words to him.
Eragon chuckled, and heard Saphira directly address Roran a low growl emanating from her throat, what, did you think I was simply some mindless beast for Eragon to fly around and wave his sword on?
"Forgive me," Roran muttered lowly, bowing his head to Saphira. "I had no idea dragons were intelligent."
"Most don't, but speaking directly to a Rider's dragon is considered rude, so I doubt many had the chance. And the wild dragons wish to have nothing to do with any other race, instead preferring to roam the lands as they saw fit."
"I see there is still much of our history that I need to learn about," Roran said.
Eragon agreed silently, and the two refrained from broaching the quiet the permeated the air for some time. Eventually, Roran shifted, reaching into one of the supply bags and taking a piece of dried meat out to eat. He offered some to Eragon, but he declined politely. Instead, Eragon removed some bread and an apple from his own supplies, munching on the dinner as Saphira slowly drifted off to sleep.
"How long until we reach Dras-Leona?" Roran asked.
"We are south of Belatona currently, and we should reach the outskirts of the city by midday tomorrow. I do not want to venture into the mountain during the night, so it might be best for us to strike immediately. So long as it is clear and I can find Katrina, we will proceed." Eragon explained. He tossed the core of his apple to the side, and took a sip from his waterskin.
Roran nodded, and Eragon saw him tighten his grip again on the hammer by his side.
"Anxious?" Eragon asked quietly.
"Not for the fight, if that's what you're asking."
"We will rescue her," Eragon promised. "Not even the Lethrblaka can stand against Saphira."
Roran inclined his head, though Eragon could still see a shadow in the man's eyes.
"There is something you must learn before you confront the Ra'zac, however." Eragon said. At Roran's curious look, Eragon continued, "The Ra'zac hunt by an evil fog that clouds the minds of men, though I can cast a spell that will shield you from that. But the Ra'zac are not our only concern, and you need to learn how to shield your mind from any that know how to listen."
Roran blinked, his face twisting. "How do I do that?"
"Think of something -whether it is a memory, a smell, a thought, or anything- and let it fill your mind. So completely that there is nothing else you could possibly think of. Do not let it go, for any slip of the mind will weaken your defense, and your enemy can find purchase."
Roran nodded, and Eragon could see him descending into thought. "Do you have to do this constantly, in order to shield your mind?"
"In the beginning," Eragon explained, "Until you learn how to shield your mind constantly. But even then, when facing a difficult enemy, I will often re-enforce the defenses of my mind by reciting a poem or by thinking of something that I know well. Give it a shot, and we will see how well you can do."
Several minutes passed, in which Roran stayed as still as stone. Only the flicker of eyes told Eragon he was ready, and so the Rider casted his mind out towards his distant cousin. Immediately he was met with a wall of memories, each comprising the woman Katrina in such detail that it momentarily gave Eragon pause. He examined Roran's defenses, trying to find any crack or imperfection in the barrier.
Satisfied, Eragon sharpened his mind, and with ease broke into Roran's mind, taking control of the man and immobilizing him. By will alone, Eragon made Roran raise his hammer to his own neck, feeling the panic as thoughts flowed in Roran's mind.
Blast it! Katrina, the night she agreed to marry me…
Eragon swept the thoughts aside, not allowing Roran to regain control. You understand the basic concept, and for your first time it was quite a formidable defense.
Eragon withdrew, watching as Roran rubbed at his temples. "Concentration is important, but the only true way to get better at it is to practice. Such things take time, but simply shielding your mind can be a huge deterrent to many. Empty yourself of all thought, and let only that one piece of yourself remain. Having something that repeats endlessly has worked well for me, and it makes your mind much less likely to stray."
"I will work on it," Roran promised.
"Do not despair, for I have had centuries to practice."
"Is it possible for me to learn magic? I can't imagine that I will be much help in the fight, but if I knew some simple magic, I could help the two of you."
Eragon frowned, examining Roran before him. Selena never showed any aptitude for magic, and Eragon knew that it was largely a hereditary trait that passed from generation to generation, though occasionally there would be some that would be able to cast simple spells that did not come from such families.
"I do not know if you have the ability, nor is now the right time to try to learn. Casting your first spell is not an easy thing, and it will severely hamper your ability to fight. When we confront the Ra'zac, you will need to stay close to Saphira and I, but I heard of your fight with the Twins. So long as I can protect you from any magic that may be hiding in the mountain, I think your aid in the fight will be enough."
"Will you try to teach me when we return to the Varden?" Roran pleaded.
Eragon considered the thought, letting it play in his mind. "Possibly. Brom would be a better choice to teach you, though I can certainly get you started. But again, you may not have the ability."
The younger man nodded his head, letting his eyes fall the dwindling fire between them. When the silence grew loud in Eragon's ears, he voiced the question he had ever since he had seen Roran's memories. "You really love her, don't you?"
"Aye."
Eragon felt a smile draw to his face. "How did it happen, if you don't mind me asking?"
Roran rubbed at his temple again, his eyes drawing in tightly. "There isn't much to tell, to be honest. I've always been partial to her, but after my rite of passage I began to wonder whom, I would marry. During one of my visits to Carvahall, as we lived outside the town on a farm, I saw her pick a moss rose growing in the shade of the eaves. She smiled as she looked at the flower and it was such a tender smile that I decided right then that I wanted to see it for the rest of my days."
"It's amazing, how such a small thing can end up meaning so much," Eragon whispered, his own mind filling with memories. Arya's bright white smile flashed in his mind, and he felt the swell of emotions that always followed whenever he was near her.
Roran nodded, though he looked strained. After a moment passed, Roran asked, "How did it happen for you?"
Blinking, Eragon was slightly shocked at the young man's perception. "How did what happen?"
"Come now, I've seen you and that elf together. What was her name? Arya? The way the two of you embraced before you left, and the way you looked at each other told me much."
Shaking his head, Eragon said, "We are not mates, if that is what you are asking."
At Roran's confused look, Eragon explained, "Elves do not marry as humans- we do. Due to their long life, they instead take mates for as long as it pleases them. So long as both partners agree to remain together, they will."
"Ah," Roran said, and Eragon saw a wash of understanding flow over his face. "But there is something between you."
Eragon took up a twig, poking at the fire gently. He coaxed it back to life, his eyes staring into the flames. "Yes."
"So? To what end? Getting answers out of you is worse than dragging a plow through the mud," Roran muttered, and few frustrated grumbles escaped the young man.
Eragon gazed at Roran, meeting the man's frustrated expression with a crinkled smile. "I have promised not to tell others of our affairs, and I will keep my word."
"I see." Roran said. "What is it like being an immortal? To know that you will never die… The idea is so vast. It's almost inconceivable. Death is a part of who we are, it guides us and shapes us into who we are. Can you still be human if you have no mortal end?"
"I can still be killed," Eragon said. "Any mortal wound will end my life, and I can still catch some incurable disease."
"How old are you exactly?" Roran asked.
Gazing up at the sky, Eragon said, "In nearly three days-time I will be three centuries old."
"To have lived so long. It is not something I can easily imagine."
"These past few centuries, Saphira and I have endured." Eragon said. "Not for a lack of others trying, either. But we do not plan to have our lives end here, so we will do all we can to ensure our survival."
"How old is Brom?" Roran asked.
"Near four hundred," Eragon frowned. His father had lived a century without his dragon, and Eragon worried over how much longer the magic could sustain his life. Already the signs of age were taking their toll on Brom.
"What of Arya and Glenwing? You said the elves are long-lived, but it is hard to tell from their appearance how old they are."
"Arya is a hundred, and Glenwing is ten years younger than her," Eragon explained. "Both are considered young for elves, and from what I heard in Du Weldenvarden it caused much of a stir when they decided to leave for the Varden."
"I've seen much of this world," Eragon continued after a pause, his tone dropping low. "It is a beautiful, interesting place, filled with many interesting, beautiful people. But even then, there is still suffering, death, and fear. Cherish the time you have, for even I do not know when I will meet my end."
Roran glanced up at the moon, letting out a tired yawn. "I think its best we bed down for the night."
"Aye." Eragon remained seated as Roran settled down on his bed roll, staring at the fire and letting his mind wander as silence reigned over him.
They had dressed in their armor in the morning, and had taken flight on Saphira long before the day had risen. Midday approached, and the sun was at its highest point in the sky when they came upon Helgrind. Close to the Leona Lake Eragon saw the outline of Dras-Leona, the city far enough that it eased Eragon's worry of being spotted. The mist that usually edged over the city was retreating as the sun beat down, leaving much of the city clear to Eragon's sharp eyes.
He saw a large cathedral in the distance, its flanged spire looming above the city like a barbed spearhead. They approached the mountain quickly, and Eragon casted his mind out, searching for any signs of life.
Finding none below the mountain, Eragon stretched his mind out farther into the black mountain, pressing hard against the darkness that exuded from its mass. It was as if the very stone was a void, sucking all light and thought into its inky blackness. Still, he pressed on, searching. Eventually he spotted a weak mind, though he was unable to press his mind into them due to the distance.
"There are two people in the peak of the mountain," Eragon said, grunting when Roran's arm tightened around him.
"Sorry." Roran said, loosening his grip. "Do you know if it's her?"
Eragon shook his head. "I've never felt her mind before, and whoever it is they are too far away for me to feel anything else. They are not in any pain, if that would ease your mind, but more than that I cannot tell."
"Any Ra'zac?"
"They are nearly impossible to detect with the mind, so we should expect the worse." Eragon explained.
Then let us go! Saphira said, diving hard. Her speed increased sharply, and Roran muttered a curse behind him.
When they were close enough, Saphira leveled herself off, though she sharply banked to cut around the mountain's base. She circled around, and the three of them searched high and low for any entrance to the mountain. The mountain was made of pure black stone, with only a web of white veins adorning the crags and pillars that made up its side. There were no signs of vegetation, as if the earth itself had rejected the presence of the mountain.
Saphira flew around the mountain slowly, and Eragon and Roran kept a weathered eye on the terrain, looking for any entrances near the peak. After completing the first sweep, Eragon casted a gaze back to Roran, who shook his head in answer. If there is no obvious entrance, Eragon thought, then it must be concealed.
Muttering lightly under his breath, Eragon stringed together various spells, letting each of them flow around the outside of the mountain. Searching such large terrain by magic would have normally costed a large amount of energy that Eragon would have otherwise not wished to waste. Instead, Eragon's spells simply detected if there was any magical trace, each tendril of magic thin and direct as it moved.
When one of his spells alerted him by causing a tingle in the palm of his hand, Eragon followed its trace back to the mountain. There you are.
Saphira, who had been observing his spell casting silently, moved around the mountain towards the location, her wings dipping in the air as she banked. His eyes only saw the dark rock of the mountain, jagged and sharp, looking undisturbed from the outside. Casting another spell, this one more direct and focused, Eragon prodded at the mountain. Someone had weaved an incredible spell around a section of the mountain face, and from the feel of the magic Eragon could see how it was formed.
An illusion, Eragon said to Saphira, who growled lightly. The magic was complex in design, as it reflected light near perfectly in order to appear like the rest of the mountain. How it was powered, Eragon could not tell, though he suspected only someone of Galbatorix's caliber could create such a thing.
Cowards, hiding in their holes behind the Black Kings magic. Saphira stated.
Eragon didn't respond, only casting more spells to look for any traps laid. A few spells were for alerting someone of entry, though he could not tell who it would warn as the magic faded into the distance. With a few whispered words Eragon disarmed the trap, and continued his search for any other magical entrapments.
When he could find nothing more, Eragon turned to Roran, "There is a cave entrance here, disguised by magic."
Roran's expression tightened as he nodded his understanding. "What do we do?"
"We go in."
At his words, Saphira turned sharply, heading straight for the rock. The tip of her snout pushed into the mountain, and Eragon felt Roran's armed tighten around him as they flew straight into what appeared to be the side of the mountain. In an instant, they found themselves inside a massive cave, the warm glow of light illuminating the interior.
Twisting around in the saddle, Eragon could see no rock wall, only the sweeping landscape beyond. Anyone inside the cave would have clear view of the outside world, meaning that their approach could have been easily seen.
Roran swore behind him, "Let's not do that again, please."
Even despite the situation, Eragon couldn't help but let out a light chuckle. He quickly undid the straps on his legs, leaping down besides Saphira. Roran climbed down after him when Saphira crouched low, murmuring his thanks to the dragon. Eragon swept his eyes around the cave, drawing Brisingr lightly as he took in the cave. The interior was large, and on the ground before him Eragon could see large markings that showed evidence of the Lethrblaka. Five low tunnels led off from the entrance, and Eragon easily spotted another larger tunnel that was barely big enough for Saphira to fit. The stench of rotten meat met his nose, and Eragon grimaced.
Each of the smaller tunnels shooting off from the entrance were pitch black, even to his eyes, but Eragon kept a wary eye on the larger one. Saphira straightened herself as Roran righted himself on the cave floor. When Roran opened his mouth to speak, Eragon held up a hand to silence his cousin.
A series of clicks came from the larger tunnel, and Eragon tightened his grip on his sword as Saphira twisted herself.
The clicks sounded again, closer than before. They were loud enough that Roran must have been able to hear them as well. A moment later, a large, twisted shape came barreling out of the lancet passageway. The Lethrblaka was huge, with black bulging eyes, a hairless and bleak torso, and a beak at least seven feet long.
Though the Lethrblaka was giant, even for its kind, Saphira dwarfed the creature. As it hurtled at her, intending to pierce her scales with its beak, she spun quickly and smashed her tail into its side, the creature sent crashing to the cavern wall. The Lethrblaka shook itself as it rose, as Eragon cursed lightly as he saw another dark form emerge from the passageway. The Lethrblaka let out a piercing scream, the shriek horrible and making him wince lightly.
Saphira growled as two Lethrblaka approached her slowly. The Lethrblaka were half her size at least, though in a two to one fight Eragon knew Saphira would not be able to prevail with strength alone. Still, as Eragon spied two Ra'zac emerging from a nearby tunnel, he knew Saphira was more than capable of handling them.
Twirling his sword in his hand, Eragon took in the two Ra'zac before him. It had been centuries since he had last seen a Ra'zac up close, and they were as disturbing to look at now as they had been then. They were roughly the same shape and size of a human, with a black exoskeleton encasing them. They wore dark robes and cloaks over the features, though he could still make out their beaked faces and black eyes.
The two Lethrblaka charged, and Eragon readied himself as the Ra'zac raised their crude swords.