For Alagaesia: 74. The declaration

He had to resort to a violent mental push to bring Roran back from wherever he was caught in. And the moment he came out of his stupor, Roran screamed; the scream of a man who had lost his grip on sanity.

Eragon could do nothing but hold his cousin tight, the hopelessness of the moment eating away his resolve. Gradually, Roran’s screams turned to whimpers before he violently pulled away from Eragon and ran towards the railing of the balcony.

 The ever alert Saphira jumped forward and picked Roran tenderly with her talons. Eragon watched with rising horror as the events unfolded before his eyes. Not even in his wildest dreams had he thought that Roran was capable of such a decision. The man was a fighter. He was never one to quit.

“Roran,” Eragon called weakly. He did not know what to say. After seeing a man like Roran break down like he did, he could simply not come up with any word of consolation.

His cousin turned to his call and there was a burning fire in his eyes that said he had not quit. But then why was he trying to jump off of the balcony?

“Put me down. I want go to her,” roared Roran. It was not the voice of a man who had meekly quit but that of one who was willing to face the unknown just to be with his love.

‘I cannot do that, Roran. Katrina is not dead and you are not going to join her in the afterlife. If you go there you will be lonely while Katrina mourns you from here and Weldhana grows up like so many of the Varden without ever knowing her father.’ Saphira explained as if to a child.

Her words seemed to have an effect on Roran. “She is not?” He asked, a hint of hope colouring his voice.

“No. She is not. And we will never allow it to happen.” Eragon stepped forward.

Roran closed his eyes for a while. It was obvious that he was trying to piece himself together. A shiver ran through his body.

When he opened his eyes, there was no confusion in it. It was clear as a mountain lake protected from winds. “Then come. Let us go to her.” Roran said in a steely voice.

Saphira decided that there was no danger in letting Roran move again and let him down.

Eragon had been going through a dilemma of his own. As much as he hated the war between duty and desire, he knew duty came first, at least for those who lead people from the front. It was precisely the reason he chose not to be a willing leader of the Varden even though Ajihad had demanded him to do so. It was selfish of him, yet it gave him a freedom that he cherished more than anything else. Roran, on the other hand, had not the luxury of such freedom. “We will go, Roran. You are not joining us.” Eragon said, hating himself for saying so.

Roran looked completely taken aback. “Why not?” He asked sounding as if Eragon was playing out a cruel joke that he did not like one bit.

“Because you have an obligation here.”

“Katrina is the only reason I fight for!” Roran shot back as if stung.

“That may be. But you cannot leave your post once you have taken it.” Eragon said.

“I... did not....,” Roran struggled with his words. It was he who had willingly relieved Nasuada and taken up the leadership of Varden. He knew it; hence the hesitation.

“Do you trust me, Roran?” Eragon asked.

“Why does it matter now?” Roran asked in a broken voice.

“Do you or do you not?”

“With my life.”

“Then leave it to us. We will save Katrina and Weldhana from whatever it is that is threatening them or we will die trying.” Eragon declared solemnly.

Roran put his head down in misery. It seemed like there was no way of convincing him to stay. But without him, the Varden would break away in mere days. Who would lead them in his absence? Orrin? Only Surdans followed him. For the Varden he was just an ally who had to be respected for his help. He was never considered to be one of them by the Varden. Every other senior leader of the Varden was dead, killed meticulously by Galbatorix using his black hand and the servants of Helgrind. The council of elders were disgraced and hated by the Varden. Without Roran, the Varden was doomed.

‘When we take care of the world, the world will take care of our loved ones for us.’ Saphira hummed, looking straight into Roran’s eyes. ‘This is the time of your test Roran. This is the time when you prove yourself worthy of the position you occupy. Nasuada left because she could not handle this pressure... of being separated from the ones she related most to. If you too succumb to it, then these men will have none to protect them from Galbatorix. And without these men, Weldhana will never get to grow up in a free world.’

Roran looked back into Saphira’s eyes intensely. It was as if he was testing her sincerity. Saphira, for her part, showed all the empathy she felt for him in her eyes. They looked like a pair of siblings: the younger brother trying to assimilate the words of his sister.

After a long while, Roran sighed heavily, releasing his pent up breath. “Then go. But remember if anything were to happen to her, I will hold you responsible.” He said in a curt tone.

Eragon stepped forward. “You can hack me to death. I will deserve it if I let anything happen to Katrina.”

“No. I will cut my head off before your eyes.” Roran said deathly serious.

A cold shiver ran through Eragon’s spine on hearing his cousin. Roran did not say those words for the sake of creating an impression. He meant them. The conviction was in his eyes. Saphira growled and pushed Roran down on the floor. ‘Never even think of such a thing.’ She warned him.

But Roran simply stared back at her as if looking at some inconsequential creature. The intenseness of Saphira’s look would have made even someone like Arya back down, but not Roran.

‘Could stubbornness incarnate?’ Saphira questioned Eragon exasperated by Roran’s stance. Eragon ignored her and lifted Roran off of the floor where he stayed having been pushed down by the irritated Saphira.

“I will contact you with good news, brother.” He said. Roran merely nodded his head in return.

Not wanting to tarry longer than necessary Eragon swiftly mounted Saphira who was ready to take off, having taken the help of the elven guards to secure her saddle.

‘Look after this fool of a man.’ Saphira commanded the elves, who nodded solemnly.

Eragon tried to take leave of Roran, but Roran pointedly looked away from him. Huffing in disappointment, Eragon asked Saphira to take off.

‘Don’t worry, Eragon. He is just afraid for Katrina. He will come around.’ Saphira assured him.

‘I hope so.’ He murmured back at her.

When Saphira started beating her wings and a wave of wind buffeted Roran’s face, the grumpy leader of the Varden seemed to notice that his cousin was leaving.

“Be safe, Eragon” He said anxiously prompting Eragon to mildly smile at him. Saphira’s speed carried him away from Roran before he could utter a response.

****************************************

Having flown out of Dras Leona abruptly without preparing for the long journey, Saphira had a hard time traversing the plains between the lake-side city and Gil’ead. Although Gil’ead was not in the direct path to Silthrim from Dras-Leona, they had decided that it was best to take the little detour because the northern city was the closest way to reach Du weldenvarden from Dras-Leona. Once in the forest they could scry Katrina. Besides they believed they could get some information from Islanzadi about Silthrim. And they would also not pass anywhere near Uru’baen.

Their plan was to reach Gil’ead in half a day which proved to be a taxing move. The strong winds of the plains caused havoc on their plans and brought back bitter memories of the time when Saphira’s wings were nearly ripped off, the first time they crossed those plains with Brom.

But they never slowed owing to the urgency of their mission. Not knowing what was wrong with Katrina drove them crazy. When they entered the villages surrounding Gil’ead in late afternoon, both of them were exhausted beyond belief. It was left to the elves who found them to give them their energy and rejuvenate them.

Eragon sought an audience with Queen Islanzadi hoping against hope that she might be able to provide a way to circumvent the wards of Du Weldenvarden. The Queen was prompt to answer his call, but did not let him speak his mind. She admonished him and Saphira for their reckless flying. He never even tried to offer any apology to her for he felt whatever they did was justified. She then tried to enquire about Nasuada’s fate, but Eragon preempted her and said of the unknown situation Katrina was facing.

When she heard that there was something wrong in Silthrim, her posture changed from that of a regal queen admonishing her subject to that of a desperate woman hearing ill news about her home when she was away from it.

“I was wondering, your majesty, if you could scry Silthrim?” Eragon asked a wee bit hesitant. He felt like overstepping his limits.

But the queen seemed to take no note of it. She sadly shook her head. “Our forest is not open even to me when I am outside it.”

Eragon put his head down dejected. What might have happened to Katrina? The thought had, over the hours, spread like a disease in his mind. He felt like he would go mad without knowing it. It didn’t help that the ring kept sending warnings reminding him that Katrina was not out of whatever danger that she was facing in the elven city.

From Islanzadi’s expression, he deduced that he had troubled her with his news. Feeling sorry for having caused the queen unwanted fears, he took his leave from her quarters.

Having failed to glean any information on the state of Silthrim from Gil’ead, he wanted to leave as soon as possible to Du Weldenvarden. But then, he also knew that there was no way he or Saphira could manage to leave Gil’ead without at least a few hours rest.

‘Sleep for a while, little one. We will find out by tomorrow.’ Saphira said to him seeking to bring in a measure of calm into his raging mind.

Seeing nothing else to do and knowing the importance of rest, Eragon laid down in the comfortable elven-made cot provided to him by the elves. It seemed like they had taken full control of the city during the winter months even with Murtagh laying siege over the city.

For a long while, sleep or even rest eluded him. He rolled on the bed trying to figure out the puzzle that was Silthrim. But his tiredness won the battle with his curiosity over control for his mind finally and he went into a deep sleep.

Her eyes. Oh, her eyes! They had the same gleam he had seen in Marian’s eyes when she bade him her final farewell; the eyes of a mother who would die to protect her child.

That little bundle in her hands that she was holding so gingerly. And the squeal that emanated from it. Gods! Was it her? His dearest?

And the woman running behind her, eyes wide with fear, arms flailing.

The fire that surrounded them. It was everywhere; consuming everything. They were racing against Angvard himself.

No! It can’t be happening. He had to be there. He had to protect them.

“Arya!!” Eragon screamed as he woke up. Sweat coated his face and his arms were burning feeling as if the fire he had just witnessed had consumed him. Knowing not where he was, Eragon looked around.

He saw an elf at the door looking absolutely flabbergasted. “Shadeslayer, the queen sent for you. It is urgent.” The elf said.

Eragon closed his eyes trying to collect himself up. He was shaken to the core. Her emerald eyes! And the motherhood in them!! And the inferno that surrounded her and her companions!!!

‘Eragon!’ Saphira called bringing him back to reality. ‘It was just a dream.’

Having collected his wits up, Eragon ran towards Saphira, ignoring the elf who was waiting for him at the door to lead him to the queen. They had to leave now. Even if the queen took offense, he did not care. If even an iota of what he saw was true, then something was terribly wrong in Du Weldenvarden.

When he reached Saphira, he was surprised to see Islanzadi waiting for him there. The queen had somehow understood his actions.

“Go, Eragon, now... to Silthrim. It is being attacked. By the Empire.” Islanzadi said, sounding so much human, in that she spoke as directly and curtly as possible foregoing all pretense of formality.

“What?” He barked, unable to accept the news. The images of the three females surrounded by fire came back to haunt him. If it was true...

“I can only assume that Galbatorix broke the ones he captured.” Islanzadi replied sadly. “He managed to teleport the whole army to the very edge of Du Weldenvarden.”

Eragon’s eyes widened in disbelief. Transporting a whole army over such a great distance! How much power does the man command? As unbelievable as the story sounded, it was the only way to explain something like this. Just three days ago, he had met Murtagh and his brother had said that the remaining elf was yet to be broken.

Yet again, the burning forest, the flowing black hair and the bundle caught within it came to the forefront of his mind. ‘Saphira!’ He called hopelessly. A tremor racked his body.

His dragon was stronger than him though. ‘Let us not tarry here, Eragon!’ She said, still believing that they could help their dear ones overcome the inferno. Her will gave him endurance and he made to climb atop Saphira’s saddle which was oddly, already in place.

“What was it that you were dreaming about Eragon?” Islanzadi asked abruptly. There wasn’t even the pretense of hesitation in her voice. Whatever happened to elves and their unbendable respect for privacy? When he put his mind into it, he understood why the queen was so curious. Arya. Of course, Islanzadi would know that it was something related to her daughter. He had cried out Arya’s name in the presence of the elf she had sent for him. But he did not want to worry the queen.

“Do not worry, your majesty. Dreams are only reflections of our mental fears.” He said nonchalantly, trying to brush aside her question.

Islanzadi arched her eyebrows dangerously, but did not say anything in return. When he tried to mount Saphira though, she caught his hand. Alarmed Eragon turned around, but found that the queen was channeling energy into him and through him to Saphira. When she released him finally, she whispered, “Please take care of her.” Eragon nodded solemnly knowing full well who ‘her’ was.

****************************************

As soon as they crossed over into the Du Weldenvarden, Eragon scooped up water from the ground to scry Katrina. When the blackened water churned, Eragon’s heart beat against his ribs like a newly caged tiger. What would come up? Will he see a calm redwood tree house or a raging battlefield? The seconds seemed like eons as they passed.

Without warning, a flame lit up the water as if trying to evaporate it. There was indeed fire in the elven city. His dream had been real - like always. But did that mean Arya was in the city too? And dare he consider the possibility, was Indra there too? No. He can’t be. Arya wouldn’t dare do such a thing to him.

Vanendra was not ready to fight the empire yet. He was to be a secret. He was but a child. Even as the thoughts swirled around in his head, the image of Katrina became visible in the water.

The moment he laid eyes on her, he lost his ability to breathe. A long gash ran across her forearm. Blood oozed from it, yet she seemed not to notice it. Her concentration was entirely on the bundle in her hands which she held so close to her chest as if to ward off evil from it. He knew well what or who she was protecting. Her daughter, his niece, Weldhana, who was just weeks old. All around her, there was fire. But not one flame reached her, as if magic kept it at bay. It was truly frightening but that was not what suffocated him. It was the fear in her eyes; the fear of losing her daughter.

Saphira pulled him close to her, letting him rest his head on her long neck. Her warmth was the only thing that could comfort him at that time.

Not having the strength to witness Katrina’s misery any longer, Eragon modified the spell and sought to look for Arya. He had to know where she and Indra were. When the water cleared for the second time to reveal the elven princess Eragon had to fight back a curse.

Nearly fifteen men surrounded her, each trying to impale their spear into her gut. She and Indra had indeed flown from Ellesmera to assist in the war. A feral anger rose up in Eragon’s mind on Arya. How could she risk Indra’s life in such a way? How could she put her life in harm’s way when she knew what it would do to him if she were hurt? But the situation she was in helped temper his anger and he only wanted her to get out of it.

The Shantiyastra gleamed in her hand reflecting the fire around her, even though its blade was coated in gore. Arya ducked, dodged and parried trying to remain unharmed. When she found a slight opening, she swung around and disarmed a soldier. Slowly but surely she was gaining the upper hand.

The royal elven blade cut through everything that it came in contact with. It looked like Arya was coming to terms with its power only now. Many times she would apply a lot more force into her blow only to find that Shanti doubled her effort. As the minutes passed, he noticed that Arya threw anxious glances at a column of fire before her. Not understanding what distracted her so, Eragon creased his eye brows.

When the realisation hit him, he forgot all the anger he felt on Arya for participating in the battle. The fire was where Katrina was. It was an ingenious idea to use fire as Katrina’s shield. Who would dare cross a huge column of fire to reach a lady who was simply trying to protect her baby?

Saphira was getting restless beside him. ‘Look for him, Eragon.’ She urged. Eragon could not bring himself to do it; to modify the spell to look for Indra. The emerald dragon was a symbol of harmony and peace. The prospect of seeing him in chaos and war was so unsettling.

Reluctantly, Eragon cast the spell to scry Indra. The water clouded over and remained pitch black with little spots of light on it. It took them a moment to realise that they were looking at a cloudless midnight sky. Countless stars twinkled in the clear late winter night sky giving an ethereal sense to the setting. It was rather calm and much different from the scenes of battle and fire they witnessed earlier. Indra was gliding in the sky looking down at the raging fires which looked like little sparks from the height he was at.

Eragon sighed in relief. At least Indra was safe from the battle. Arya must have forced him to stay away. He admonished himself for having been angry on Arya for dragging Indra into the war so early.

Saphira let out a plume of smoke indicating her own relief. ‘Come Eragon. We have a battle to fight.’ She beckoned him. Eragon dropped his spell after checking on Katrina and Arya once again. They seemed to be enduring the assault, if not succeeding in the battle.

A full day’s non stop flight later, they arrived within mental range of Silthrim to find that the fighting had largely subsided. He could only sense sporadic attacks in the city by stray soldiers who still remained alive. But the scrambling elves worried him. They lacked the usual coherence he had come to associate them with. Ignoring the chaos for a moment, Eragon flung his mind far and wide in search of Katrina. It was difficult as there were a lot of emotions to read through from both the humans and elves in the city.

To make matters worse, the elves were hostile, no doubt having been assaulted by Galbatorix’s spell casters for the past two days. He had to fight his way out of many an elf’s mind which in no way was an easy task. Before he could identify Katrina’s whereabouts, Saphira had arrived in the city.

Eragon jumped down from her back, asking her to look for Indra and Arya – who were worryingly no where to be seen and started running by foot through the half burned city, all the while searching for Katrina’s presence. In the end, he found her in the middle of the city, inside the ruler’s hall flanked by ten elves. He had to enter the minds of the elves and convince them of his identity before he was allowed to touch Katrina’s mind.

‘Are you well, Katrina? Roran is worried sick about you.’ Eragon questioned startling his cousin.

She tried to frantically throw up some mental defence but gradually realised that it was Eragon who had contacted her, when he stayed on the fringes of her consciousness trying to impress upon her that he was just trying to speak to her. ‘Eragon?’ She asked relief colouring her mind.

‘Sorry to have frightened you. But I could not wait to reach you physically.’ Eragon replied.

‘You are here?’

‘Yes, I am Katrina. Roran wanted to come too. But I convinced him not to.’

When he felt her mind cloud at the mention of her husband, Eragon added, ‘Perhaps it is best to speak directly. I will be there in a minute Katrina. Do not worry.’

As soon as he came within sight of the main hall of Silthrim, an arrow flew towards him whistling all the way only to be stopped by his ever present wards. He looked up into the trees to find elves perched there. One elf jumped down and ran to him.

“Shur’tugal! I apologise for what I did. I thought the accursed men had risen from the dead yet again.”

Eragon arched his eye brows. Yet again? So the painless ones had attacked the city. That explained the mayhem. He nodded at the elf and said, “Don’t worry. You are doing a fine job.”

He did not give the elf time to react. He passed him and ran into the main hall, the guards there stopping him briefly to inspect his mind. When he finally went inside the hall, he frowned. He could not see Katrina there. Only a dozen elves who stood in a circle around… nothing. They eyed him curiously.

Exasperated, Eragon screamed, “Katrina!”

“Eragon?,” came the reply from the midst of the elves. He realised then that an invisibility spell must have been cast on his cousin. The elves surely took enormous efforts to protect those who came to them seeking asylum. Or they adored children so much that they did not want to part them from their mother so young. Or Arya had specifically ordered to protect Katrina at any cost.

“I cannot say how glad I am to find you are alright, Katrina.” Eragon admitted to the space before him.

There was no response from Katrina. He frowned. Perhaps she just smiled back at him? Having her invisible was so inconvenient. He considered touching her mind to speak, but then decided against it for her emotions were too strong during their short mental conversation moments ago. He did not want to invade on her privacy especially after all she had gone through in the past two days.

Instead, he cast a spell of his own to undo the invisibility spell cast on Katrina. It was a straightforward one to use the light rays to show what was truly in front of him. That way, only he could see her and she would still be hidden from enemy eyes.

Even the simple spell had its toll on him as he had expended most of his energy in reaching Silthrim from Gil’ead. It must be some kind of a never-done-before feat, he thought vaguely, their reaching Silthrim from Dras-Leona via Gil’ead in under two days.

When his spell took effect and Katrina became visible, he was shocked to find tears rolling over his cheeks. What had happened?

“How did you know?” She asked.

“The ring.” Eragon answered softly.

“Does Roran know too?”

“Yes. He was distraught. He badly wanted to come. But I made him stay in Dras-Leona.” Eragon replied feeling guilty, for he could see the hurt cross Katrina’s face when he said so.

He sought to explain himself. “He is the leader of the Varden now, Katrina. He cannot…”

Katrina interrupted him, asserting, “You don’t need to say anything, Eragon. We trust you.”

Eragon pursed his lips admiring the trust his cousins reposed in him. He then laid his eyes on Weldhana. The baby was sleeping peacefully not caring about the battle happening around her. Somebody must have put her to sleep, presumed Eragon as he caressed the soft cheeks of his sleeping niece. For a moment, Eragon forgot all about the battle immersed in the divine charm of the child.

The warm feeling the child’s face brought into his mind reminded him of Arya and he enquired casually, “How did Arya come to join this battle?”

At his question, Katrina shivered as if a cold wind had stung her, although the fire outside and the magic inside kept the room quite warm. “If it wasn’t for her…” She started saying, but Eragon did not get the chance to hear her out for a wave of panicked and incoherent thoughts blasted him abruptly.

It took him a few seconds to understand that it was Saphira who was bombarding him with those thoughts. Only she could access his mind in such an intimate way.

“Saphira? What happened?” Eragon used both his voice and mind to try and bring some order into their conversation.

In reply she just pulled his revolting mind into hers and showed what she was seeing.

The red-shrike-Thorn circled the severely injured friend-of-heart-Indra looking for a way to pin the green dragon down. Indra barely managed to stay afloat, with his wings torn in many places, no doubt slashed by cruel-brother-of-Eragon-Murtagh. Arya swung Shantiyastra in a desperate attempt, trying to inflict some pain on Murtagh. A thrice-cursed-black-magic-wall impeded her or the elves from helping her friends-of-heart.

Saphira abruptly returned control of his mind. He blinked once, unable to process what he had just seen. His head swirled and the world spun around him. A strange numbness overcame his senses, making him dizzy. Suddenly he found that he had lost the strength to even stand on his own. His legs gave way and he fell face first on to the floor. And then everything blacked out.

“Eragon, there is still hope. There is always hope.” A strangely familiar voice assured.

“There is?” A sobbing little boy, about seven years old, asked sceptically.

“Yes, there is. But you have to help your mother fight this demon.”

“I will.” The little boy promised. “Even if the demon consumes me.”

“Come… help wake your mother up, so that she can see you drive the demon away.”

Eragon opened his eyes to find a few elves and Katrina inspecting him with worried expressions.

‘Where are you?’ He asked Saphira ignoring the people around him. A steely resolve had replaced the forlornness he felt moments ago. He would fight even demons if it meant he could save Arya.

She sent him a location in the outskirts of the city, near the banks of the Ardwen Lake. Her emotions were still tumultuous although she was now coherent enough to communicate with him. He nodded bodily indicating that he had her location.

Turning to the elves, he demanded, “Will you stay here and protect Katrina till I return?”

They answered in the affirmative.

“Eragon, what is happening?” Katrina sought to know.

“It is best if you didn’t know.” Eragon informed. When she tried to protest, he merely advised her to wait for him there and took off towards the Ardwen, a new vigour coursing through his body.

He touched the consciences of the burning trees and melded his with theirs’, feeling the pain, while also convincing them of providing him their remaining energy. How he communicated with the trees, he knew not. But he knew that the trees willingly provided him with their energies.

He collected energy from the trees all along his path that when he reached the banks of the Ardwen where Arya and Indra were fighting Murtagh and Thorn, his being literally thrummed with energy. When Arya noticed his arrival, her face brightened up a little. That little expression from the princess gave him the confidence to break the Beors down to the sands of Teirm.

Not caring what kind of spell Murtagh had cast to cut off Indra and Arya from the others, Eragon sought to break it by brute force. He uttered one word: “Jierda”

He knew it was a spell he could not take back and if his energy was not sufficient, unless Murtagh himself took down the invisible magical wall, he would die. But he did not care at that moment. He had seen Arya and she was happy to see him. That was all that mattered to him.

The wall of magic did break as he had willed it to. The enormous collection of energy in his body and the numerous trees with whose consciences he maintained contact provided the power to do it.

“Now, Saphira” Eragon urged his dragon and hopped onto her saddle from the ground in a swift motion.

Saphira wasted no time in launching herself into the unsuspecting Thorn. The red dragon did not even try to dodge Saphira, staying smugly on his course towards Indra, probably because he wasn’t aware that the magical wall was already broken. Saphira crashed into the red dragon’s side with a force that could have uprooted even the Menoa, making him tumble towards the ground.

‘Go. Now.’ She commanded Indra. When the emerald dragon hesitated, she repeated the order with even more authority. The commanding tone in her voice was so overwhelming that even Eragon cowered at hearing it. Indra grunted and flew down to the waiting elves.

Murtagh stumbled to a standing position from his fallen dragon’s saddle. Thorn had sustained a rather heavy injury during his fall. Murtagh, like always took out a round object, which Eragon knew now to be an eldunari charmed to mend injuries in an instant and placed it on Thorn’s side.

Meanwhile the elves set about mending Indra’s battered body. Arya who looked pale and unhealthy sought to join Eragon and Saphira as they flew down to tackle Murtagh and Thorn.

‘Stay with him.’ Saphira instructed Arya with the same authority with which she had commanded Indra to withdraw. Arya looked stunned at being addressed as such.

The princess had been the object of Saphira’s anger before, but this… this was different. Saphira had to be obeyed. There was no way of fighting her command. So it was that Arya stayed put tending to her dragon while Eragon and Saphira attacked the empire’s dragon and rider.

Saphira did not wait for Thorn to fly back to the skies to fight. She wanted to crush him this time; to push him into the ground and make him eat soil. Murtagh saw Saphira approach and called out frantically to Thorn to move away but he was too late. A huge chunk of Thorn’s belly muscles were torn off by Saphira’s talons making the red dragon whimper in pain.

“Eragon! Ask your monster of a dragon to stay away!” Murtagh screamed.

“You should have thought of that before you came barging into an elven city and attacked a hatchling like Indra.” Eragon shot back. “Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? Trying to kill a four month old dragon?”

Murtagh looked pointedly away from Eragon when he muttered, “They tried to kill us first.”

‘Stop reasoning with that fool, Eragon. He is arrogant and considers himself a little Galbatorix.’ Saphira counselled Eragon as she readied herself for another bout.

Seeing Saphira return for another round of attack, Murtagh muttered something under his breath. Thorn’s injuries had healed and they had taken to the air already. When Saphira tried to near Thorn intent on not letting him gain any footing, she was repelled by a force similar to the one that stopped her from reaching Indra earlier. Murtagh was on the defensive now and he knew it.

“We did not attack them, brother. We will never do it on our own accord. Galbatorix ordered us to raze this city to the ground and they stood in our way.” Murtagh announced as Thorn aligned himself in a general southerly direction.

“Yes, you dog! Follow your master’s words like they came from the God himself!!” Eragon shouted at his brother as Saphira gave Thorn chase. There was no reply from Murtagh.

It was clear that Murtagh and Thorn were trying to escape from Silthrim, seeing as Thorn single-mindedly kept his eyes trained on the southern horizon. Saphira’s wings ached from the previous day’s flight. Now that Indra was safe, she did not feel the drive to do anything.

“Let them go, Saphira.” Eragon said. “They are not worth it.”

Saphira had to comply. She had no other option. She might have attacked Thorn and Murtagh more ferociously than ever. Still, it was also true that she was more tired than ever in her life having flown from Dras-Leona to Silthrim in a matter of two days. So they left the traitorous dragon and his rider to go back to their master and returned to Silthrim.

When they returned to the banks of the Ardwen they were informed by an elf stationed there that Indra and Arya had flown to the city’s central hall so that Indra could be treated better. Taking the elf with them, Saphira flew to back towards the central hall where Katrina too was present.

As the adrenalin caused by the battle settled, Eragon felt a raw anger rise in him at Arya and Indra for having tried to take on Murtagh and Thorn alone. They should have known that Murtagh with his Eldunari would be able to overcome them easily. As he thought about it more, his frustration shifted solely towards Arya. Indra was not aware of the existence of Eldunari. So it was Arya who should have advised her dragon to keep away from the accursed dragon and rider of the empire.

When they reached the city central hall, they found dozens of elves surrounding Indra. Among them was Rakshana, the lady of Silthrim who stood near Arya speaking something to her. Katrina too was present in the gathering. She stood a little away from Arya listening to the conversation Rakshana was having with Arya. Saphira tried to land right in the midst of the elves, beside Indra, making them scramble away hastily. Seeing them Arya smiled slightly. Eragon could not return the smile for he was fuming at her.

Having got off Saphira’s back even before she had landed, he walked right up to Arya, showing off his anger in his strides. When she tried to speak something, he pre-empted her and asked, “Why did you fight Murtagh?”

Arya frowned at his question as if he had asked something so unnecessary.

“Why?” Eragon repeated, this time in a rough and angry voice.

Arya looked around. It was obvious that she felt uncomfortable to have the conversation in the presence of all those elves. But Eragon simply did not care.

“We scried you, when we heard of the attack on Silthrim. But I found that you had your own battle to fight in the Varden. So we took it upon ourselves to protect the elven kingdom as dragon riders are ought to do.” Arya said in a nonchalant and business-like voice.

‘You should not have come here.’ Saphira stated flatly.

‘Why do you say so?’ Indra asked, sounding hurt.

Eragon shifted his concentration on Indra and looking him in the eye, said, in a barely controlled voice, “You have not yet fully trained as riders. It is not becoming of you to come here and risk your secrecy and more importantly, lives.”

“What use would we be as riders if we cannot protect our own motherland when it is threatened to be razed to the ground by the enemies?” Arya shot back at him lividly.

Oh, no. This woman and her sense of blasted duty. She simply doesn’t understand others’ feelings. Eragon thought. Wanting to answer her logically, he said, “You were specifically given orders by the leaders of your order to not let go of your secrecy. Is it not your duty as riders to follow what your leader demands of you?”

“We are not bound to you by fealty. We are free riders and we protected the country that gave birth to us and raised us. Who are you to stop us from fighting for the survival of our country?”

‘There she goes. Always the rebel.’ Saphira commented smugly.

There was an undercurrent in Arya’s voice warning him not to go further. But he ignored it. He would not let her go this time, especially after she had put her life in jeopardy. Her life was more important to him than her feelings.

“You speak as if I have no care for this country. Yet it is not so. I dearly want the elven realm to remain peaceful and cheerful as it always has been.” Eragon replied.

Arya was glaring daggers at him at this point but he did not care. He was not Islanzadi to disown her daughter to try and reduce her pain when her daughter put her life at risk. He was different. He was human. He would be direct.

“Tell me then, why is it wrong that we fought for the realm you so love?” Arya nearly mocked him. He was beginning to comprehend how difficult it must have been for Islanzadi when Arya took the yawe ignoring her mother’s counsel.

He was being pushed to do it. To say what he always wanted to say: I don’t want to lose you. Restraining himself in the last moment, he said more generally, “Alagaesia cannot lose Indra and you. She needs your help... do not throw away your lives carelessly. That is all I ask of you.”

Arya looked him dead in the eye and declared in a calm and cold voice, “I would not mind laying down my life for the sake of fair Silthrim. I and Indra are not as important as this city, lord rider.”

An anger like nothing he had ever felt before forged ahead from his heart. How could she brush her aside as if she were nothing? She was the world to him.

“Never!” Eragon thundered, “Never say such a thing, Arya.” He caught himself before he went too far and said in a low whisper so that only she would hear of it, “You are important Arya. If not for the world, then for me. Promise me that you will never do anything of this sort again.”

“Why should I do so against my wishes?” Arya asked bluntly.

Eragon clenched his teeth in anger. Her wish! Her wish to die!! And he had to accept it. Never! “You know why, Arya,” he replied hotly, “You know that I cannot lose you. That I love you too much to lose you.”

From the silent gasps from around him, he knew that the elves had all heard his open declaration of love for their princess. He knew that the whole elven Kingdom would know of this. But he could not care less. He had eyes only for her.

Arya looked stunned. But it was only for a moment. The next, she collected herself together and a look so similar to the one she used when speaking to her mother after her return from Durza’s captivity came over her features.

Eragon did not want to put his head down. He was not ashamed of his feelings. No. He was proud of them. He held her scrutiny without flinching. He expected her to say something. Even as he was preparing to answer her hard questions, she turned and with her head held high walked away, without uttering a single word, every bit as regal as Eragon remembered her during their first arrival together into Ellesmera.

As he stood there watching Arya disappear behind the burnt trees of Silthrim, Indra walked forward, bared his teeth at Eragon, growled and went after his rider. When Indra too went out of sight, Eragon suddenly felt weak and his knees buckled underneath him. He held onto Saphira's snout for support. His dragon said nothing except sooth him with her calming thoughts.

The elves that had witnessed all this, began talking frantically. Soon, he knew news would reach Islanzadi. He did not want to think of what would happen thereafter.

Katrina consoled him and counselled to stay away from Arya for a while. He was anyhow going to do the same. He was sure that Arya herself would make sure of it, probably for the rest of their lives. He did not want to think of it but the emptiness he would feel if Arya were not to be in life scared him more than even Galbatorix’s twisted mind.

Author's Note:

Yay!! Eragon declares his love. This time sounding a little less love-struck foolish than before. But what would Arya do? I hope to answer your questions soon. Please pray that God does not take away my interest to write this story yet again.