The city of Gil'ead looked the same as it did when Eragon was held prisoner in it from far away. But Eragon knew that so much had changed in there now. For a start, it was now a Elven controlled city rather than Galbatorix's military stronghold. And it had become the place where the Mourning Sage had finally met his end. Eragon felt the air become visibly cold and his mind become dark. He turned to see that Arya was in much the same state as he was. The elves were starting to move around in a faster way and he knew that it was their arrival that made them react as such. Saphira contacted him and said, 'Little one, they have raised wards so as not to allow any dragon in without their permission' Eragon sighed, 'Galbatorix. He has made even the elves to distrust the dragons', he said. A mental probe came his way and Eragon became alert although he knew that with elves so near no empire magician would dare do such idiocy. The voice said, 'Atra esterní ono thelduin, Eragon Shur’tugal.' Eragon finding that it was the Elf-lord, Dathedr finished the elven greeting, 'Atra du evarínya ono varda, Däthedr-vodhr.' Then Dathedr said, 'By your safe arrival here, Shadaslayer, may we assume that there was no discomfort in your travel.' 'Yes, Dathedr-vodhr, you may.', replied Eragon not wanting these niceties to go any further. 'The wards will now be parted to allow you in, Eragon-vodhr.', he said and left Eragon's mind. Eragon conveyed this to Saphira and she made herself ready to enter the elf-protected city.
The elves were a form of eternal sadness and that coupled with Eragon's own feeling of grief made his heart heavy. The whole air seemed to radiate the sadness of the situation by blowing cold. Eragon wondered if the influence of the elves had anything to do with the change in the air. As Saphira descended on the ground, he saw that even the Queen who was waiting for their arrival was a picture of dejection. He felt that he would have been in much the same state if he had had to see the bodies of Oromis and Glaedr everyday as the case was with these elves. He couldn't find their bodies anywhere and that gave him a sense of relief for he knew that the tears that threatened to overwhelm him would flow freely if he saw them which would in turn create an image of weakness in the minds of those around him. Eragon didn't want the elves he didn't know to think of him as a weak person. Being a weak human meant being like Galbatorix to the elves. In all these thoughts he forgot completely about Saphira for a fraction of that minute and when he looked into her mind found that she was in much bad shape than him. In way of comforting her he placed a hand on her flanks for he knew words were useless in such grave situations. He wondered what Arya's state was then, because he couldn't see her expression. Just then, Saphira had landed and Arya got off the saddle in swift motion. Eragon followed suit although he couldn't manage to imitate Arya's grace; but those were silly thoughts and were brushed aside by the graveness of the situation almost as soon as they were born. He bowed before Islanzadi, "Atra esterní ono thelduin, Islanzadí Dröttning." "Atra du evarínya ono varda, Shurtugal.", Islanzadi replied curtly. Eragon didn't feel like reciting the last line of the greeting and so left it as such. Islanzadi then turned to her daughter and embraced her. Arya was a little stiff to respond at first but then sank into the embrace after a few moments. They didn't have any words of comfort to each other other than that comforting embrace but seeing them brought into Eragon's mind his mother, Selena's image that he had seen only on a fairth and the wishful thought of being comforted by her in this situation. Islanzadi then let go of Arya and turned her attention toward Saphira. Saphira looked at the queen for a few moments with intensity which the Queen bore unflinching and then lowered her gaze. Islanzadi then touched her lips with her hand in welcome for which Saphira bowed a little, a habit she had developed since the day she laid eyes on the elven queen. The queen then asked them about their journey in short to which they replied in short. It was clear that it wasn't time to speak. So shortly afterward, all three new arrivals were escorted to their resting places.
Six hours after his arrival into the city, Eragon felt like he wanted to look around the place. He called on Saphira who was resting outside the small house where he was resting and started walking. On the way he saw very little of humans and remembered that Gil'ead was used more as an military outpost rather than a city. That meant most of the population in the city had been soldiers and that most of them were dead by now. Death. That word seemed the most common one he had been hearing in the past two or two and a half years. It all had started with the death of Garrow. At least Gil'ead, was a place he could have remembered as the one where he saved Arya from rather than a place where so and so he loved had died. But now even that one little positive point about this accursed place where evil Morzan and his dragon lay as bones killed by Brom and Arya endured unspeakable torture had been erased by the bitter memories of the death of his masters. Every place that he had ever visited in Alagaesia bore a bad memory except perhaps Ellesmera. For that reason alone he liked the pine city of the elves more than any other place on Alagaesia may be except his long lost home-town, Carvahall. As these dark thoughts ran through his mind he saw a large confluence of elves at one place. Saphira said, 'This is where they have kept their bodies, Eragon.' Eragon stiffened. He didn't want to see his master's bodies. Not now. He wouldn't be able to bear the sight. He knew that perfectly well. But some elves parted ways so as to allow him in. Not wanting to insult them and with rising need to look into his master's peaceful face that had driven away most of his doubts Eragon slowly stepped through the gathered elves.
Every step took an eternity to take or atleast that was what Eragon felt. He moved as if in a trance. And after it was ages since he started walking through the parting elves, he noticed that the density of the elves gathered reduced. A longing had come into his mind in these few moments that had seemed like ages. A longing to converse with his master about the completion of his training. Tears started to gather in his eyes. The elves, as if on cue, left the place before his master's body on seeing him arrive. Once the few elves had moved away, the first sight Eragon got was that of a huge golden statue. But Eragon knew that it was Glaedr's body. Glaedr who was in his Eldunari in isolation and lamentation in Saphira's saddle bag. No sign of war except the cut-off foreleg existed on the great dragon's body. As he drew near, Eragon noticed Oromis lying peacefully-as peaceful as Eragon had seen him during their long hours of training-by Glaedr. They both were almost like living beings except that their eyes didn't have the welcoming warmth that would glow from them whenever they laid eyes on Eragon and Saphira. Eragon missed that the most and that brought forth the gathered tears and he felt the tears flowing like rivers from his eyes. But Eragon didn't take his eyes off their bodies. He didn't want to miss the feeling of seeing his masters through naked eyes; a feeling he knew he would never get after this day. A strong sense of giddiness came over him and he wanted to shout out to the world for being so cruel to him. He wanted to curse all the gods if they existed; No, they didn't. Oromis had told him that they didn't exist. That meant they didn't. When was Oromis wrong? When will he again hear his master give him a bit of advice? When will his master admonish him for his mistakes again? Oh, When will he ever see a rider again? Will he be able to feel the awe of Glaedr's presence in his mind again? And just then when he was nearly broken down by his sorrow, he felt an immense pressure on his mind. It was sorrowful. Much more so than him. It wanted control over his mind. He instinctively fought with it. But then Saphira said, 'Eragon, Let him in.' and Eragon let the force take over him. It was as if he was in a dream now. The most horrible dream. The kind in which one has to see himself die by the hands of his own children. The sorrow was unbearable now. He had to let it escape; else it would eat him. So he screamed out showing the world all his agony. His screaming was accompanied by the strangled roar of a mourning dragon; the voice of the most beloved of his relations; Saphira's. He knew it was not just his sorrow that made him scream as such. It was Glaedr's sorrow mixed with his own; their own sorrow; Saphira's, his and Glaedr's; the mourning of a rider; a part of them. But soon all was black and Eragon knew nothing more.
Eragon woke with a horrible pain in his head. He turned his head around to see where he was. It was dusk time and he was in the house that he had occupied before going out into Gil'ead. He noticed a slight movement near the door and saw that it was being opened. Instinctively he reached out to the belt of Beloth the Wise and grabbed the hilt of Brisingr-and contacted Saphira simultaneously and panicked when he didn't receive any reply from her-but let out a breath of relief as he saw it was Arya who entered through the door. She saw that he was awake and came to him, "I came to check if you had woken. What happened Eragon? Why did you and Saphira react as such seeing Oromis's body?" "Saphira...? Is she alright?", Eragon ventured harshly. Arya looked at him almost pitying and said, "She is fine. Only unconscious. As were you just moments ago. What happened?". "I ...don't know. ...I felt sorrow ...lapping up in me... ..But then Glaedr awoke ...and took over me and then it became... unbearable.", he was being honest. "We were afraid.", Arya said concern emanating from her. "Afraid? Why?", Eragon became cautious. Arya looked uncomfortable and unable to speak and she struggled to find words for moments before she said, "Its nothing now. You have awaken." "In an hour Oromis's funeral rites are to be fulfilled. Get ready.", she added hastily without allowing him to speak anymore and she left within seconds not even waiting to see Eragon's reaction. 'Eragon' Saphira contacted him then. 'Saphira! Where are you?', Eragon asked. 'Just where we lost conscience. Now get ready. Glaedr wants to talk to me. So I won't be contacting you for now.' 'What? Saphir...', Eragon started. 'Get ready, Eragon. There isn't much time for the funeral.' Eragon obeyed without further words.
The elves were all gathered near the Isenstar lake where the burning of Oromis's body was to be done. Eragon came to their midst slowly fearing what they may think of him after morning's show. But he saw that most of them respected him even more now. Arya came to him and guided him to the head of the gathered elves. Saphira was already there. He was informed that he would be performing the last rites of his master as the last of the riders. He knew that it was a great honour given to him by Islanzadi. But he didn't feel anything good about it. The fact that it will be him who would be setting fire to the pyre containing his master's body only unsettled him. He wanted somebody to comfort him. But he knew that it was the state of every other person in that place. So he resigned himself to the sinking feeling of drowning in his sorrow. But then an elf lady started to sing in the ancient language. It spoke of the "final farewell" and as the song grew on all the elves joined in and Eragon unconsciously started to recite the song too. A huge bed of red flowers rose from the ground and covered the land around the funeral site. Eragon's mind started to be blanketed by an eternal sorrow. He looked up at the skies. The stars had started to show up in ones and twos. Even those looked more morose never blinking as they did always. The whole environment around him became a picture of dejection. But soon as the song started to change tune in celebration of the life of the ones being sent away, the conditions improved dramatically and he felt proud to have been students of such people whose life story could affect the nature so. Soon the song came to an end and a measure of peace had settled in their minds. Saphira loomed large above him. Through their link Eragon saw that she was sharing her view with Glaedr. He moved forward as if in a dream and set fire upon the pyre holding Oromis. As the fire started building up, Saphira let a bout of fire from her mouth and Glaedr's body got fire. Golden flames arose from his body and everybody who stood surrounding the site looked on in awe. Once the fires were at their zenith, a loud lamenting roar tore through the silence as Saphira roared out. Thus ended the last of the elder riders.
Six hours after his arrival into the city, Eragon felt like he wanted to look around the place. He called on Saphira who was resting outside the small house where he was resting and started walking. On the way he saw very little of humans and remembered that Gil'ead was used more as an military outpost rather than a city. That meant most of the population in the city had been soldiers and that most of them were dead by now. Death. That word seemed the most common one he had been hearing in the past two or two and a half years. It all had started with the death of Garrow. At least Gil'ead, was a place he could have remembered as the one where he saved Arya from rather than a place where so and so he loved had died. But now even that one little positive point about this accursed place where evil Morzan and his dragon lay as bones killed by Brom and Arya endured unspeakable torture had been erased by the bitter memories of the death of his masters. Every place that he had ever visited in Alagaesia bore a bad memory except perhaps Ellesmera. For that reason alone he liked the pine city of the elves more than any other place on Alagaesia may be except his long lost home-town, Carvahall. As these dark thoughts ran through his mind he saw a large confluence of elves at one place. Saphira said, 'This is where they have kept their bodies, Eragon.' Eragon stiffened. He didn't want to see his master's bodies. Not now. He wouldn't be able to bear the sight. He knew that perfectly well. But some elves parted ways so as to allow him in. Not wanting to insult them and with rising need to look into his master's peaceful face that had driven away most of his doubts Eragon slowly stepped through the gathered elves.
Every step took an eternity to take or atleast that was what Eragon felt. He moved as if in a trance. And after it was ages since he started walking through the parting elves, he noticed that the density of the elves gathered reduced. A longing had come into his mind in these few moments that had seemed like ages. A longing to converse with his master about the completion of his training. Tears started to gather in his eyes. The elves, as if on cue, left the place before his master's body on seeing him arrive. Once the few elves had moved away, the first sight Eragon got was that of a huge golden statue. But Eragon knew that it was Glaedr's body. Glaedr who was in his Eldunari in isolation and lamentation in Saphira's saddle bag. No sign of war except the cut-off foreleg existed on the great dragon's body. As he drew near, Eragon noticed Oromis lying peacefully-as peaceful as Eragon had seen him during their long hours of training-by Glaedr. They both were almost like living beings except that their eyes didn't have the welcoming warmth that would glow from them whenever they laid eyes on Eragon and Saphira. Eragon missed that the most and that brought forth the gathered tears and he felt the tears flowing like rivers from his eyes. But Eragon didn't take his eyes off their bodies. He didn't want to miss the feeling of seeing his masters through naked eyes; a feeling he knew he would never get after this day. A strong sense of giddiness came over him and he wanted to shout out to the world for being so cruel to him. He wanted to curse all the gods if they existed; No, they didn't. Oromis had told him that they didn't exist. That meant they didn't. When was Oromis wrong? When will he again hear his master give him a bit of advice? When will his master admonish him for his mistakes again? Oh, When will he ever see a rider again? Will he be able to feel the awe of Glaedr's presence in his mind again? And just then when he was nearly broken down by his sorrow, he felt an immense pressure on his mind. It was sorrowful. Much more so than him. It wanted control over his mind. He instinctively fought with it. But then Saphira said, 'Eragon, Let him in.' and Eragon let the force take over him. It was as if he was in a dream now. The most horrible dream. The kind in which one has to see himself die by the hands of his own children. The sorrow was unbearable now. He had to let it escape; else it would eat him. So he screamed out showing the world all his agony. His screaming was accompanied by the strangled roar of a mourning dragon; the voice of the most beloved of his relations; Saphira's. He knew it was not just his sorrow that made him scream as such. It was Glaedr's sorrow mixed with his own; their own sorrow; Saphira's, his and Glaedr's; the mourning of a rider; a part of them. But soon all was black and Eragon knew nothing more.
Eragon woke with a horrible pain in his head. He turned his head around to see where he was. It was dusk time and he was in the house that he had occupied before going out into Gil'ead. He noticed a slight movement near the door and saw that it was being opened. Instinctively he reached out to the belt of Beloth the Wise and grabbed the hilt of Brisingr-and contacted Saphira simultaneously and panicked when he didn't receive any reply from her-but let out a breath of relief as he saw it was Arya who entered through the door. She saw that he was awake and came to him, "I came to check if you had woken. What happened Eragon? Why did you and Saphira react as such seeing Oromis's body?" "Saphira...? Is she alright?", Eragon ventured harshly. Arya looked at him almost pitying and said, "She is fine. Only unconscious. As were you just moments ago. What happened?". "I ...don't know. ...I felt sorrow ...lapping up in me... ..But then Glaedr awoke ...and took over me and then it became... unbearable.", he was being honest. "We were afraid.", Arya said concern emanating from her. "Afraid? Why?", Eragon became cautious. Arya looked uncomfortable and unable to speak and she struggled to find words for moments before she said, "Its nothing now. You have awaken." "In an hour Oromis's funeral rites are to be fulfilled. Get ready.", she added hastily without allowing him to speak anymore and she left within seconds not even waiting to see Eragon's reaction. 'Eragon' Saphira contacted him then. 'Saphira! Where are you?', Eragon asked. 'Just where we lost conscience. Now get ready. Glaedr wants to talk to me. So I won't be contacting you for now.' 'What? Saphir...', Eragon started. 'Get ready, Eragon. There isn't much time for the funeral.' Eragon obeyed without further words.
The elves were all gathered near the Isenstar lake where the burning of Oromis's body was to be done. Eragon came to their midst slowly fearing what they may think of him after morning's show. But he saw that most of them respected him even more now. Arya came to him and guided him to the head of the gathered elves. Saphira was already there. He was informed that he would be performing the last rites of his master as the last of the riders. He knew that it was a great honour given to him by Islanzadi. But he didn't feel anything good about it. The fact that it will be him who would be setting fire to the pyre containing his master's body only unsettled him. He wanted somebody to comfort him. But he knew that it was the state of every other person in that place. So he resigned himself to the sinking feeling of drowning in his sorrow. But then an elf lady started to sing in the ancient language. It spoke of the "final farewell" and as the song grew on all the elves joined in and Eragon unconsciously started to recite the song too. A huge bed of red flowers rose from the ground and covered the land around the funeral site. Eragon's mind started to be blanketed by an eternal sorrow. He looked up at the skies. The stars had started to show up in ones and twos. Even those looked more morose never blinking as they did always. The whole environment around him became a picture of dejection. But soon as the song started to change tune in celebration of the life of the ones being sent away, the conditions improved dramatically and he felt proud to have been students of such people whose life story could affect the nature so. Soon the song came to an end and a measure of peace had settled in their minds. Saphira loomed large above him. Through their link Eragon saw that she was sharing her view with Glaedr. He moved forward as if in a dream and set fire upon the pyre holding Oromis. As the fire started building up, Saphira let a bout of fire from her mouth and Glaedr's body got fire. Golden flames arose from his body and everybody who stood surrounding the site looked on in awe. Once the fires were at their zenith, a loud lamenting roar tore through the silence as Saphira roared out. Thus ended the last of the elder riders.
Author's Note:
Without a chapter to mourn Oromis and Glaedr, their legend wouldn't be complete. Isn't it?
As usual, a fantastic job. Great voice, and a beautiful plot! By all means, take your time; writing shouldn't be rushed! And also, do you have a beta reader?
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