For Alagaesia: 11. Steely resolve

It was cold and dark when Eragon opened his eyes. There was a dull throbbing in his head. He couldn't remember where he was or what had happened to him. Instinctively, he reached out his mind to Saphira. But he couldn't find her. Panic set in and he tried to move. It was then that he realised that his hands and legs were held by something. He looked around to see where he was. His eye-sight was dull and dim. He could just about make out the strong iron bars of the door of the room he was in. He racked his brain to remember what had happened. His brain was strangely slow to process anything.

In a flash, he remembered everything. He was a captive of the empire. It meant he was in Uru'Baen. Thoughts of escape came flooding into his brain and he tried to reach out to the magical barrier in his mind. He couldn't. He was drugged. Dread filled his mind as he registered the implications of this: he will soon be meeting the most powerful and mad man Alagaesia has ever had. But in all this foul feelings he was happy for one thing; eternally happy: Saphira was safe. Arya would take care of her. He could go through any and every suffering that Galbatorix would put him in. But he couldn't have been able to see Saphira in discomfort. It would have broken him. He knew that, now, he would stand up against Galbatorix without fear.

But when thoughts of Saphira continued, he began losing his minor flare of happiness as he realised that he wouldn't be able to see her again. Not until some miracle happened and he would be able to escape Uru'Baen. As he thought of spending his days in the filthy cell without any of his friends to comfort him, his head-ache became pronounced and he was left to think wistfully what it might have been if he hadn't blessed Elva. That thought made him make peace with his situation. It was his fault that he was here as a prisoner of the mad king.

As his mind raced through such thoughts, he heard footsteps outside his cell and became alert. Poised but too tired to do anything but wait, Eragon waited for the people arriving to enter his cell. He cleared out all emotions from his face. Hurt or worried, he wouldn't show it out to the despicable empire people. Three people came into his field of vision before the door of the cell. He looked at them with disdain. One person opened the door for the others to enter and waited outside the cell. The others entered. By the looks of their dressing Eragon guessed that one was a magician while the other was a high ranking officer in Galbatorix's army.

"He's awake.", said the military officer as though Eragon wasn't a person of flesh and blood. The man looked amused. "We have to inform the King", the magician said. They didn't even look at Eragon as they would look a living being. This made Eragon angry. But he didn't want to give them the satisfaction of having made fun of him by showing his anger out. He chose to follow their own medicine and acted as though they weren't present there either. His behaviour must have annoyed them for they started glaring at him after sometime. But Eragon didn't care to show any emotion and so continued ignoring their presence. Eragon felt like the officer was ready to strike at him any moment. It gave him a sort of satisfaction to be able to anger his captors.

They left after a few moments of hate filled looks at Eragon. Once they were gone, Eragon's heart started to beat fast because he knew that within minutes he would be meeting Galbatorix. He made conscious efforts to hide his fear. But when thoughts of the death of his father right before his eyes and the thoughts of the dying moments of Oromis came to his mind, the hate he felt for Galbatorix overtook the fear and a staunch determination to never move to the whims of the evil king set itself in him.

Again there were foot-steps heard and this time he knew there were more people coming. He allowed a stern and proud expression to settle on his face. A group of soldiers commanded by those two men: the captain and magician arrived in his cell. "Lift him up", commanded the captain. The magician chose to be calm but from his expression it was clear that he was supervising the avoidance of any mishaps. Three soldiers came near Eragon, caught his arms and lifted him. "Follow me.", the captain gave a short command and turned around. The three soldiers holding him walked just behind the captain pulling Eragon along. He didn't want to fight the soldiers because he knew that with the meagre amount of energy he had he wouldn't be able to achieve anything other than a handful of bashes. He also knew the need to save atleast that little amount of energy in him if he had to thwart Galbatorix. So he walked along without complaining. The magician followed Eragon and the guards holding him. The other soldiers followed them.

Eragon was pushed roughly through various tunnel like pathways. The chains holding his legs didn't allow free movement and so he had to falter in various places. The soldier walking behind him pushed with a spear on his back wherever he faltered making his back sore. It made Eragon more grumpy but he kept his expression unchanged; the expression he knew described his overall mood perfectly and angered his captors-stern and proud. After walking through restrictive and slimy pathways for about five minutes, they reached a stair-case that was fairly long which led to the upper parts of the castle. They pushed Eragon unceremoniously up the stairs. He stumbled through it unable gain the right footing with the chains binding his legs.

When they reached the end of the stairs, there was a trap door which the soldiers ran ahead to open for the captain. Bright light filled the area almost suddenly and Eragon with his more sensitive vision flinched. Now, he understood the placement of the dungeons: they were underground. The part of the castle that they had now entered was neat but in no way was it royal because Eragon knew the grandeur of the halls of Ellesmera and Farthen Dur. They were much better than the feeling that this castle evoked. 'My standing in this castle might have skewed my view', Eragon thought. It surprised even him that he was able to muse about the grandeur of a castle even in such gloomy situations. They led him through that part of the castle without stopping for anything. Then again there were stairs and Eragon was forced through it as he was in the last stair-case.

The next level was visibly much better than the lower level with lots of decorations and paintings. As they walked through various halls, the richness in the castle kept on increasing when at one stage Eragon was forcibly reminded of the great gates of Tronjheim. This last part that reminded him of Tronjheim had a lone painting hanging on the walls. There was a man with a very handsome face wearing a diamond crown in the painting. But his black eyes had a look in them that told everything about him: cruel, cunning and power-hungry. He had a small beard that emphasized his handsomeness and in some sinister way, the malicious intent that lay beneath the handsome mask. The person had a well-built and muscled body and wore costly clothing. Eragon knew that he was seeing the evil king for the image matched every detail that he had heard from various people like Oromis, Brom and Murtagh. He familiarised the image as much as possible in his drugged state.

At the end of that hall, there was a huge door that Eragon was sure was Elvish creation with all its intricate and immaculate designs. The party came to a halt before the door. The magician came forward and looked like he was contacting somebody on the other side of the door. After a few moments he moved away and the door was opened for them to enter.

A huge beautiful hall lay before them. It wasn't quite awe-inspiring as Tialdari Hall but it was close. Its architecture had a blend of elven and human styles to it. The grace of the elves and the much spoken about civilisation of the humans had equal shares in shaping this wonder. It was one place where elves and humans had once lived in harmony. A living example of the old age. Yet it was where the person who had destroyed the old age lived. The irony of the situation did not amuse Eragon; it stung him like a poisonous snake. His hatred on Galbatorix increased many-fold. He was pushed inside the hall this time by the magician. Only the magician and the Captain entered the hall. The soldiers didn't. It showed to Eragon how the government was being run. Oppressive. He hated Galbatorix even more. It seemed to him that everything he would notice about the evil king would only increase his dislike for him.

"My King, We have brought you the war-prisoner.", the captain bowed before the man on the throne. The magician did not speak. But he just bowed. Both of them stood that way till the voice that Eragon hated the most said, "Rise" "Bring him forward", it commanded. The captain pushed him from behind urging him to move forward. His head held high and eyes scanning the room, Eragon walked towards the evil king. After a while, the captain caught the sleeve of his shirt making Eragon stop his resolute stroll.

"Young Eragon.", the silky voice of the evil king flooded Eragon's ears. The voice reminded him of the first time he heard it. It was uttered to kill Oromis, his mentor and master. Hate for the king rising to a new high, Eragon turned to look at Galbatorix. He had a smile on his face; a smile that would have enticed anybody who did not know the history of that man. Eragon had heard how enticing the king can be from Murtagh.

"You have been led astray by people who don't understand my policy. People who thought what they did was for good. People who were not able to see beyond their hatred. People who lived in the past.", Galbatorix's snake tongue rolled in his mouth creating a spell-binding effect on the captain and magician beside Eragon as he watched them. But not Eragon. He had seen the atrocities the king had done-not just killing Brom and Oromis-but destroying a whole village just so that he could lay his hands on Eragon and Saphira. Keeping shades and Ra'zac as his pets. Everything that the king had ever done were foul things; ones that Eragon would never even contemplate doing; not even in the most cruelest of dreams. 'Keep your honeyed words to yourself, snake. I won't be poisoned by them' - Eragon thought to himself although he didn't utter them out loud for he wanted to hear what the man wished of him.

"You have great potential. You can be a saviour to these lands. You won't be an outlaw; but a great noble respected by the people of Alagaesia. Come join me in my quest to create a peaceful Alagaesia, Eragon. You and Saphira will be leaders to a whole new generation of riders.", Galbatorix's elegant voice filled the air.

Eragon stood silent. The rage that was building in him was something akin to what he had felt in the dungeons of Gil'ead while examining the mind of Durza's minion. But he controlled himself this time. He didn't want to waste his energy on somebody who was beyond correction; someone who was corrupted to a level that even the most evilest of things appear to be noble ones for them; somebody who was Galbatorix.

Putting his hate and anger away from his voice, using the most regal voice he could muster, Eragon replied clearly, "It was you who killed the dragons in the first place. You who destroyed whole cities just because they didn't want to live slaves to you. You who destroyed all that was good just because you had lost your dragon by your own incompetence. Now, you expect me to join you to undo all that you did. Do you really believe you are capable of such good things that you speak of, Galbatorix? You are an abomination on this land. A weed that has to be removed. I will never join you. Never."

"Fool!! You are just like your mentors, Brom and Oromis. Never knowing what is right. I thought of making you my first and foremost slave. But now I will rip everything that you hold dear to you from your mind and make you a dog; a dog lying by my feet.", Galbatorix shouted at the top of his voice. The captain and magician cowered before the king; But Eragon stood as always-regal and proud.

A mental dagger strong as an avalanche came at Eragon's mind. He had been expecting it to occur and so had the strongest of defenses around his mind. The foul king wouldn't enter his mind. He wouldn't allow it. Even if he became insane trying to hold him out of his mind, he didn't care. He may be young; but his will was as strong as Brom's or Arya's or Oromis's. Pain, burning pain. His head pounded as if hit by a war hammer. But he didn't let his defenses down. He recited the elven poem about the lover across the sea over and over in his mind filling it with the poem and letting nothing else interrupt him. He felt a small pain at the side of his body. But he didn't let it bother him. He kept on repeating the poem in which a man had reached the end of the sea from where his lover was far away in the unreachable lands across the sea. He heard the voice of Galbatorix cursing colourfully, but the words didn't register themselves in his mind. His tired mind wanted to escape from all these complexities. It searched for the lost peace and found it at last in darkness. It fled towards it and embraced it wholeheartedly. And Eragon knew no more.

Author's Note:

So how did you think Galbatorix has been made. Personally for me, he is a strong personality if he could impose 13+13 ardent followers (elves and dragons included, mind you). But a mad man he is. So what happen when a strong personality with a handsome figure turns mad...GALBATORIX. And Eragon. I don't think he will be this tolerant toward Galbatorix if he could do something more. He knows he is a prisoner now and so chooses to behave as a proud man forced to be prisoner should. Lets wait and see....