For Alagaesia: 62. Nightmares, Confrontation and Who are they?

He lay sprawled on the top of the mountain. Cold was all around and it was inside him too. It was evil. And it was deep inside where it should not be. It was terror. Terror unlike anything he had felt before. It wrapped around him and it was coursing through him. Darkness was spreading all around.

Somebody was calling out to him.

But no, he shouldn’t listen because it had to be thrown out. He could do it. He had done it many times before and he would do it now even if he had to sacrifice his life. But it was hard! It was so hard that even death wouldn’t throw it out. The evil filled him and made him feel weak. The cold inside him chilled him to his core. The cold outside was nothing in comparison. He lay on the ice that covered the peak of the mountain unable to resist the evil anymore. It cackled madly. ‘Fool! You stand no chance against one so powerful as me!’, it said. He was reduced to a weeping and thrashing weakling.

‘ERAGON!!’

He had heard that name! He knew that name. It was him. Somebody warm and calm was calling him. They could help him! ‘Yes. Yes. That is me.’, he said, ‘Who are you? Have you come to help me? I know you can help me. Please help me! Please!!’ He pleaded.

‘Eragon, wake up!!’

‘What?’

The evil smirked at him. And with a flick of its fingers that were as clouded as fog, it pushed him off the peak of the mountain. He fell towards his death. The fear for death caught hold of him. He could have allowed the evil to take him. He might have had a second chance. But this; this was his end.

‘Saphira!!!’, he screamed.

Saphira? Who was that? And why did that name make him feel safe? ‘Saphira.’, he repeated the name feeling the energy course through him at the mere utterance of that name.

‘Oh, Eragon, wake up!!!’, somebody pushed him.

He was dead. Wasn’t he? But then he could open his eyes. A huge pool of blue was staring at him, confused and caring. Saphira. His Saphira.

He rushed up from the ground and hugged Saphira never to let go of her ever again.

‘Little one… I am here. Calm down.’, Saphira comforted him.

‘Saphira…There…. There was something. It pushed me off a cliff.’, he said, ‘It…It… was evil.’

‘That was Galbatorix’s mind, Eragon. The terrors of which you have hid from me to this day.’, Saphira said warmly although he could sense an undercurrent of anger in her voice.

‘It was a nightmare?’, Eragon asked.

‘Yes, Eragon. It was. But it was about some kind of second chance and dying.’, Saphira said. She sounded vague. Eragon felt that even she didn’t understand what his latest dream signified. Never had his dreams been clear. But they had always meant something. He sighed. This one had been rather terrifying and embarrassing, albeit he doubted Saphira would think any less of him for being afraid at the sight of such evil. There was no word for it except evil. It was evil in its most twisted and purest form. People should only be wary of others who didn’t fear it.

He sighed heavily. Nightmares had been absent ever since they had entered the Du Weldenvarden and he had not suspected that he would have one after he had opened his mind to Saphira and had shared his fears with Arya. Only now did he realise that he had unconsciously hid the worst part of his fears from the two of them.

He looked out through the window in his tree-house. The sun had not yet risen above the horizon but the wee hours of the morning had already started. It was evident from the mild red that painted in the sky near the horizon. Eragon decided that going back to his waking dreams was not a good idea.

He silently walked out of his tree house shivering slightly in the cold. Early morning cold was inescapable even in Ellesmera. Saphira swooped down from their tree house and accompanied him. Neither spoke a word. Nor did they need to. Both knew each other’s mind perfectly well. Eragon was shaken by his nightmare but wasn’t going to brood over it or think over its implications. He simply wanted to forget that incident and move on. If at all it meant something it would show itself in the future and Eragon and Saphira knew very well that there wasn’t anything they could do that would change the occurrence.

By instinct, Eragon walked towards the only place that was equal in beauty to Tialdari Hall in Ellesmera: the menoa tree. The great pine tree spread its branches all around the area creating an enormous umbrella. Eragon felt a shiver pass through his body as he beheld the tree. The last time he had passed by it, the tree had tried to kill him and Saphira. But still, he felt energised at the sight of the wonder that the elves had created. No. That an elf had created. He was now distinctly aware of the monstrous presence that was the Menoa. The sleeping elf-woman-tree’s presence somehow brought him peace.

Eragon settled on a branch of the Menoa that was quite high from the ground. Saphira circled the tree for a long while hesitating to come to rest on the Menoa. In the end, she made up her mind and settled on the tree a little away from Eragon.

“Wyrda!”, the colourful raven of the Queen, Blagden said from somewhere above his head.

“Good morning, Master Blagden.", Eragon said.

"Wyrda!!", repeated the raven and flew down to a branch closer to Eragon.

"So, how has Ellesmera been in the absence of the Queen?", Eragon asked.

"Humph!", the raven snorted and flew up to a high-reaching branch. He sat silently for a while looking over the horizon. Then he began singing.

"Red and blue

on Green and brown.

Grow in there.

I stay there.

No one sees me.

No one cares me.

The good, the bad;

No rules to obey,

No shoulder to stay."

Eragon couldn't understand what the raven said in full, but he thought it was the most direct answer the mystic-bird had ever given him. "Hmmm.... How I wish I were like you, Blagden. No cares and no worries. The world must be beautiful for you.", he said.

Saphira growled. But kept her peace. She understood and accepted his words.

"Wyrda!!", Blagden said again.

"The two who lay resting;

The one who lost everything;

The one who kept waiting;

The one who is rogue;

And the one who is child

All shall unite to answer the call."

"What?", Eragon asked. He had not paid heed attentively to the raven and hence could not recall what the raven said.

'Even if you did you wouldn't have understood, little one.', Saphira said.

"Dragons!!", said Blagden and flew away as if in a frenzy.

Eragon didn't understand why the raven flew away nor did he care because he could see Vanendra flying towards the Menoa. Surprisingly Arya was not to be seen anywhere near. Indra was alone.

The magnificent green dragon noticed Eragon only lately and tried to turn back. But he must have felt that it would be rude to turn his back on Eragon and Saphira for he came back again and perched on yet another branch of the Menoa. 'How many more dragons could this tree hold?', Eragon wondered.

'This giant? It could support five more dragons of Glaedr's size and still not feel the weight.', Saphira replied to his hypothetical question, in a straightforward manner.

"Good morning, Indra!!", Eragon greeted Arya's dragon.

'Good morning, Eragon.', the green dragon said. He sounded tired and angry.

'What troubles you, Indra?', Saphira asked.

'Nothing. Its just that I couldn't sleep.', the green dragon replied to Saphira.

Saphira didn’t press Indra for any details although they could sense that there was something that the green dragon was hiding from them. It wasn’t for nothing that a young dragon such as Indra would be alone without his rider.

Indra became silent from then on watching the sun rise above the horizon with awe written all over his face. The sun never ceased to impress and amaze the dragons. It was a symbol of their existence. Heat and power signified the sun as much as they did the dragons. Maybe that was a reason Eragon mused. Or maybe the eternality associated with the sun and the dragons was the reason. Day after day, the sun rose and set, never changing, never dying.

But Indra’s excitement was short-lived. The vibrant colours of the sky failed to raise his spirits. From the precious little Eragon had seen of Indra, he was fairly adept with the dragon’s reactions to the sunrise. Never had the dragon been sober when the sun showcased its brilliantly coloured rays.

“Indra, you should tell us what worries you. If you won’t then at least seek the help of your rider.”, he said.

‘How can I when she is the one who worries me?.’, Indra asked coolly.

‘What? You both have a problem?’, Saphira asked.

‘No. Its… Its not like that.’, Indra said hastily.

“Please make us aware of your difficulty, Indra, so that we may try to aid you. We may not be experienced enough to be your proper teachers, but as the leaders of the order of dragon riders we are responsible for your tutelage.”, Eragon said.

‘No. I… I am not questioning your ability to solve this. But…’, Indra said uncertainly and left his sentence hanging in the middle.

Eragon and Saphira waited patiently. If there was one lesson that Oromis and Glaedr had taught them about being teachers it was patience. They had never seen Indra unwilling to speak like he was now.

The green dragon craned his neck up and looked into the morning sky. It was a crispy winter morning with a steady cold breeze blowing from the north. Indra shivered. It was strange, seeing a dragon shiver in the cold while even Eragon could stay untouched by the cold. But then, there might have been other reasons for the dragon to shiver.

‘Who are they?!’,  Indra asked turning Eragon’s doubt into conviction.

‘Who?’, Saphira asked back.

‘Durza and Faolin.’, Indra said. He sounded angry and hurt.

Eragon felt a shiver pass through his spine at the mention of those two completely unrelated personalities. One was the epitome of evil while the other was that of nobility. But one person connected the two. If Indra was enquiring about them then… He didn’t want to think of it. He shouldn’t.

‘Hasn’t Arya made you aware of them yet?’, Saphira asked.

‘No. She gets angry whenever I try to talk of those names. But her dreams are riled up with thoughts about them.’, Indra said.

‘Faolin was a friend of Arya’s.’, Saphira said.

‘I know Faolin. He… He was like Eragon. But this Durza? Who is he?’, Indra asked.

“He was a shade that I killed.”, Eragon said shortly.

‘Shade? A spirit-person?’, Indra asked.

“Yes, Indra. He was a spirit-person.”

‘What does he have to do with Arya?’

“You remember how you were rescued from Galbatorix, don’t you?”, Eragon asked.

This was a soft topic. To make it work, he had to traverse carefully. Arya had chosen the easy way by hiding information from Indra. Eragon had suspected that Arya would do much the same since he knew of her solitary disposition. But for a dragon rider it was wrong to do so. Every secret of yours should also be a secret of your dragon. That was the way of the dragon riders. That was how it should be. Besides serving well in difficult situations it also would help Arya, Eragon knew.

Still he felt that Indra was too young to be pressed by the weight of Arya’s troubled past. The fact that Arya’s thoughts about Faolin could elicit discomfort to Indra made it blatantly clear that he would be agitated by knowledge about Durza.

‘What does my rescue have anything to do with it?’, Indra asked, his confusion evident.

“Answer my question, Indra. Don’t be impatient.”, Eragon chided his pupil.

Indra regarded him with contempt. Eragon held the stare. After a few moments Indra sighed heavily. ‘I am sorry Eragon-elda. But I am already tired of Arya skirting around my questions.’

“We do what we think is best for you, Indra. You are young. You can’t deny it. You need protection from the cruelties of the world till you are mature enough to understand everything.”, Eragon said sympathetically.

The green dragon growled at Eragon and bared his teeth. He obviously was hurt by Eragon calling him immature. Saphira looked on calmly at the young dragon.

‘Eragon, perhaps under the circumstances, it is best to make him aware of Durza’s deeds. I have seen his feelings. He is confused, hurt and worried. He can’t be in anymore bad condition if he knows of Durza. The extraordinary time of his hatching makes life hard for him. Although I don’t wish it upon him, we have no other way.’, Saphira said.

Eragon nodded.

‘Besides, Arya should not have hid her torture from Indra entirely. Now, I fear he will be agitated even more when he finally comes to learn of it.’, Saphira continued.

“Answer me, Indra, do you remember?”, Eragon asked having made his mind up.

‘Yes, I do. You were captured by Galbatorix and while rescuing you, they rescued me too.’, Indra said. He sounded harsh; hostile even.

Eragon ignored Indra’s tone. It was just a childish anger that the dragon would overcome in time. He knew because he had passed that stage only recently. “And you do know that Arya was held prisoner much as myself by the empire. Don’t you?”

Indra jerked his head to meet Eragon eye-to-eye. ‘No. I don’t know that.’, he said. His tone was one of disbelief.

Eragon felt a seething anger emanate from Saphira. ‘What does that elf think; hiding her losses from her soul-mate?’, she broadcasted her thoughts to the world.

Eragon too felt let down. He had trusted Arya to abide by the laws of dragon riders. But the elven princess had disregarded everything and had held back the darker part of her life from Indra.

“Indra, I want you to press Arya to divulge more about her life to you. She will resist your attempts. But be strong. Demand it of her even if it gives her pain. It is for the good of you both. Do you understand?”, Eragon said.

A feeling of agreement flowed from the green dragon. His hostilities were all but forgotten.

“Know this for now: Durza captured Arya while she was transporting Saphira's egg and in a bid to save Saphira, Arya sent the egg to me. Faolin and Glenwing who travelled with Arya were killed by Durza. Further than that, I can't explain anything about how Arya felt in the following hours, days and months. I know the events only from a third person's point of view and I am ill-qualified to impart that knowledge to you.”, Eragon said.

Indra looked confused. His whole demeanour suggested that he wanted not to believe Eragon’s words. He struggled for words for a while. ‘I… I… don’t know what to make of your… claims… They are… I… I know… I know that she was born a hundred years ago.’, he said.

Eragon looked sympathetically at the green dragon. It wasn’t always that a dragon would be distressed.

‘I know her, Eragon.’, Indra said, ‘I… I have felt how much she misses her father. I know how she felt when her mother banished her; how much she loves drinking honey tea. I have seen what Faolin’s help meant to her.’

He paused, seemingly measuring the depth of Arya’s gratitude, friendship and love for Faolin. Then he continued, ‘I know how much she loves to stay in Du Weldenvarden and how much she cares for the two of you. I know. I know how much she loves to spend her time alone. I know how much she loves me.’

Again he paused, this time a dreamy look coming over his face. He shook himself slightly and said, ‘I know how much she loves to watch a sunrise from a hilltop resting against a tree. I know, Eragon, I know. I know how much she respected Oromis and how much she loves to rest under the stars and gaze at them. I know how much she loathes Galbatorix's deeds. I know how she craves to be able to sleep like humans.’

He stopped abruptly, perhaps feeling wrong to have divulged a lot about Arya. Eragon had a fair idea that Arya must have asked Indra to refrain from speaking about her deepest wishes and longings to others.

‘I know it all, Eragon.’, Indra said, ‘I know Durza and Faolin haunt her dreams. But I don't know why?! She wouldn’t let me in!!’ He finished with as much frustration as he had begun.

Both Eragon and Saphira stood shell-shocked. They had both known and been friends with Arya for years but they didn’t know half of what Indra had said about her. There was no doubting the fact that Arya was bonding with her dragon quite well. But the problem was that she was selective in her sharing. Yes, she had shared a lot more with Indra in little more than a month than she would with Eragon and Saphira or even with Islanzadi in her whole lifetime. But that didn’t excuse her hiding her darkest moments from her soul-mate. Especially hiding that. Those were the times that would test anyone’s strength; those were the times that would make the bonding impossibly stronger when shared. Those were the mandates of being a dragon rider.

Eragon had found it the hard way. Ever since he shared the memories of his torturous days in Uru’baen with Saphira, his interactions with her had become as easy as ordering his own hand to pick up a stone from the ground. The two of them had grown even closer than before he was captured.

Indra stood silent as a stone for a while, perhaps expecting one of them to speak. But when neither did, he said, ‘If she decided to hide those things specifically from me, then she ought to have a strong reason. How can I press her for information about those things? Wouldn’t it be a breach of trust?’

‘Believe me, it will only make you both strong. It is how it is meant to be. A dragon and rider pair is unique for this very reason. We ought to share all we have ever faced in life.’, Saphira added to Eragon’s words.

Indra pondered Saphira’s words for a while. Then he solemnly pledged that he would do his best.

“A dragon and rider are like two sides of a coin. We are worthless when singled out and we form the perfect foil for each other. Simply put, a dragon completes a rider and a rider completes a dragon.”, Eragon lectured.

‘I understand Eragon. And I shall not forget this.’, Indra promised.

‘Good, now would you please ask Arya to meet with us here?’, Saphira said.

‘What do you plan to do?’, Eragon asked her.

‘She has questions to answer for.’, Saphira said simply.

'Yes, Saphira. I shall tell.', Indra agreed.

'Don't give her any hint as to what we spoke now.', Saphira ordered. The green dragon mentally nodded for that too.

'I don't want you to be here when she arrives or be in contact with any of us during the course of our meeting.', Saphira said, almost threateningly.

The green dragon turned his head around in an excruciatingly slow motion to meet Saphira. 'You just said that there should be no secrets between a dragon and rider.', he said.

Despite the seriousness of the situation Eragon felt laughter bubbling up at Indra’s question. He stopped himself from laughing out aloud lest Saphira take offence.

'And this won't remain a secret. You can ask her the details after I finish with her.', Saphira replied in a deathly serious tone.

Eragon sensed that Saphira was not merely threatening Indra for the sake of it. She meant every word she said.

Indra turned towards Eragon and nodded his head once. Eragon returned the motion with a small encouraging smile on his face. Then the green dragon flew off from the Menoa causing the branch on which he had been resting to shake violently. Eragon half-expected the Menoa to spring up into action and catch hold of Indra, but nothing happened.

After a few minutes of silence, Eragon stirred from where he sat upon a branch of the Menoa, as the sun began to showcase its brilliance splashing the sky with different colours. He heard light footfalls that he instantly associated with Arya. How he had memorised the sound, he didn’t know nor did he care. It was as it should be.

The elf princess swung herself up the Menoa like a trained cat. Not a leaf rustled as she climbed up. When she was level with Eragon, she smiled slightly at him and addressed Saphira, “You wanted to see me?”

'Yes elf, I did.', said Saphira, her voice hard.

Eragon could see Arya wince at Saphira's words. He too felt like doing so. Never had he seen Saphira so angry at someone whom she loved dearly.

“Is there something wrong?”, Arya asked tentatively. A dragon's anger could discourage even the strongest of minds.

'Everything is wrong.', Saphira said shortly.

“Please tell me what it is that you are angry about, Saphira.”, Arya said and turned to Eragon for help. He shrugged his shoulders and spread his hands so as to say that it was not his place to intrude Saphira in her dealings. Arya turned back towards Saphira.

'You have nightmares?', Saphira asked.

Arya looked incredulously at Saphira. Her slanted brows furrowed in a fine 'v' as she considered the question.

“Yes, I do.”, she said at last when Eragon thought that she would refuse to speak at all.

'And you share them with Indra?', Saphira asked back in a flash.

Arya seemed taken aback. She finally understood what it was all about. “I don't think it is a question I have to answer.”, she said bluntly.

'You don't have to?', Saphira thundered. Eragon flinched. Saphira's anger was uncontrollable and it seeped through their link and affected him. 'I am your trainer, Arya. I am your leader. You will have to answer me.', she said.

Eragon tried to calm Saphira down and reason with her. He was not entirely successful but when he said that Glaedr or Oromis wouldn't have acted as angry with her if she ever behaved that way, she budged a little.

Arya stared at Saphira as if the dragon had struck her head with her enormous leg. “Trainer and leader you may be, but you are no one to command me against my will and judgement.”, she said in a clipped voice.

Everything came to a stand still. Even his mind was blank, devoid of all thoughts. Such was the effect of Arya's rebuke. The wind whispered fine melodies in Eragon's ears, the only sound in the whole area.

'There she goes again.', he thought after being stunned momentarily. He had known how stubborn Arya could be, but experiencing it first hand was frustrating. He empathised with Islanzadi more and more with each passing day and with each encounter with Arya. No parent would tolerate such a stubborn child. In a bid to save Arya from Saphira's wrath, although he himself felt frustrated with Arya, he sought out Saphira's mind privately and said, 'Don't be angry with her Saphira. You know her. She is that way. We will find a way.'

Saphira pushed him aside mentally making him cringe and addressed Arya. 'You are ignoring all that you have learnt by taking such decisions. They will come back to haunt you one day and then you will regret not following my advice. I only hope that the day comes soon and Indra is not overly affected because of your antics. Listen to me princess, when I say this: You are making a grave mistake by not sharing the pain of your days in Gil'ead with Indra. Can't you see that he is already broken because of your so-called protection? Can't you see that he can't be worse off than he is now, if he comes to know of it? Can't you see that he feels betrayed? Can't you...', Saphira was saying when Arya interrupted her with a loud, “Enough!!”

Saphira glared at Arya. Arya looked back just as hard. Then she turned to Eragon and threw him a glance that held a mixture of anger and sorrow.  And then the newest dragon rider climbed down from the Menoa without a word and walked off into the city.

Saphira kept staring at the disappearing figure as if she wanted to burn Arya down to ashes. Eragon climbed up and reached the branch on which Saphira rested and placed a hand on her face. 'Please do not be offended, Saphira. Arya doesn't understand the enormity of the problem.', he said.

'Then explain it to your dear elf!', Saphira explained.

Eragon retreated as if stung. 'She is your friend too.', he said.

'Aye. She was. Wasn't it she?', Saphira replied.

Her words caught him off-guard. He struggled to form a reply. He found that he could not say anything to convince Saphira. So he said the one thing that he thought was logical. 'You should speak to Glaedr.'

'And what?', Saphira challenged.

Unable to stand Saphira's wrath, Eragon contacted Glaedr himself. The Eldunari of the golden dragon was placed in the Crags of Telnair at his request and it took a while for Eragon to locate the elder dragon's mind. Once he found Glaedr, he shared the experiences of the day with his master. Glaedr thought not for a while more after Eragon finished and immediately contacted Saphira.

The dragon's conversation was a mixture of human, elven and dragon languages that Eragon had much difficulty understanding. But after a long drawn argument, Saphira conceded. 'I over-reacted. For that I am sorry. Arya is a friend. But I won't back down from my stance until she shares her life's story in full with Indra. I won't let her disrupt his peace and safety. Friend or no, I don't care. Indra is more important to me.', she said.

'I only ask you to be patient, youngling. There is time for Arya to learn. She is a sharp and intelligent girl. She will understand soon.', Glaedr said.

Saphira dipped her head and Eragon scratched the underside of her neck affectionately so as to calm her. His thoughts though were fixed on Arya. He knew how pained she would feel now. She was a fiercely loyal friend who didn't like it when her friends didn't accept her choices. She after all, had kept away from her mother for seventy years.

Author's Note:

I am in the process of reading Inheritance. I am not so sure if I like it or not, but I can only say when I finish reading it. Somehow the 'capture of Nasuada' part in For Alagaesia and Inheritance have synced although most other things have taken completely different forms in my version and the original. Even Nasuada's part isn't in real sync if you know what I mean. Anyway, after 400 or so pages I can only say that Paolini has done a good job but not necessarily a great one. The lack of emotion in his writing is glaring though. I hate to be critique and so I shall just say that Paolini has made an earnest attempt at winding up the tale he started at the age of 15 with a lot of flaws. I can see that he is trying to correct some of the errors he made in Eragon, the book. But I think it is unnecessary. And Arya suddenly calling Angela, 'Wise One' looks a bit unrealistic. And so on. But anyway, I am enjoying it and that is enough I guess.

And thanks for everyone who have decided to stick around with me even after the release of Inheritance.