For Alagaesia: 92. His life's purpose

In a way he was glad that Galbatorix’s body had burst in a riot of energy and nothing remained of him. Otherwise, the sense of basic etiquette would have forced them to cremate him, which he was loath to do after suffering so much on account of the king. Besides his new found respect for Shruikan would never have allowed him to treat the king’s body equal to that of Shruikan.

As they prepared for the funeral of Shruikan and the elder dragon rider pair of Vrael and Umaroth, Eragon requested Arya to take over for he felt emotionally vulnerable and weak. He might have been an elf in his past life and might have acquired largely elven features in this, but he simply could not understand how Arya controlled her senses when it was required of her. This was one area where he simply could not replicate her. He could only admire.

However, Saphira and Indra took the events of the past hour in their stride as dragons were wont to do. They did not look mortified like Eragon did and neither did they look cold like Arya. For them the past belonged to the past. They were of a race that lived in the present and hence cherished their new found freedom pushing all their misgivings to the back of their minds.

‘This will be the last.’ Eragon resolved once it was all over and they had flown down from Edoc’sil. The undefeatable watch tower had proved its worth yet again after being called Ristvak'baen for a whole century. The scene of Galbatorix’s absolute ascendancy had also become that of his absolute descend.

On their way back, the Menoa promised to withdraw from his mind entirely, while also offering her help whenever they required it. He thanked her for all her help for without it he knew he wouldn’t have been able to deliver freedom to Shruikan which ultimately proved essential in Galbatorix’s defeat.

When they prepared to go to Kuthian as he had asked them to do if they succeeded in defeating Galbatorix, the ancient dragon simply turned them down asking them to come to him only an year later. They had secretly hoped to enjoy the air of their previous home but now that there wasn’t purpose in going there, they decided to go to Uru’baen. Their friends waited there anxiously and news of Galbatorix’s fall had to be delivered to them.

‘Now we have time to fly as high and as far as we want! We are free!!’ Saphira suddenly burst out as they neared the Ramr river on the other side of which lay Uru’baen. Eragon smiled. It was their long time wish to explore all that was to Alagaesia.

“Not till the political turmoil that will inevitably arise is settled.” Arya replied gravely.

Eragon turned around sharply towards her. She looked back at him kindly but would not take back her assertion. She was still the duty-conscious princess of the elves. Nothing had changed about that. But to think that she would spoil Saphira’s moment of freedom!

‘She is right, little one. There is still a lot to be done before we can be free.’ Saphira consoled him.

‘But you have wanted this for a long time.’ It was Indra who spoke in defense of fun.

‘Yes, I have. But there are priorities,’ was Saphira’s short answer.

Indra shook his head unbelieving of Saphira’s reply. It was then that it struck Eragon’s mind. Why should he be the leader of the rider order (which anyway included only three pairs of riders and dragons) when all he wanted was freedom and peace. Why not someone who was more willing than him? Like Arya?

Without reserve he spoke out his mind. “I and Indra are on the same side of the coin in this. And I believe Saphira and Arya on the other side.” Arya eyed him curiously while Saphira most gladly accepted his observation. “Besides, the leaders of the rider order have always been the rider and his dragon.”

Now even Saphira put him on a cautious notice, the way he was trying to connect the unconnected issues making her curious. Seeing her expression Eragon struggled. He was used to Arya throwing him curious and cautious glances, even angry ones. But Saphira had been his rock of confidence. Whatever he felt was right, she encouraged him. But here was one thing where she wasn’t in sync with him.

“What I mean… suggest… think is…,” struggled he.

‘Oh, blurt it out Eragon. It’s not as if any of us will judge you by what you say.’ Saphira said impatient to hear his thoughts as he had blocked them from her.

Eragon saw no reason to draw it out any longer. Saphira was true. None of his companions would judge him. “It would be better if Arya takes up the mantle of leadership of the dragon riders along with Saphira.”

‘What if Arya is not willing?’ Saphira asked him immediately. Her question brought joy to Eragon. Saphira was fine with his proposal. That was enough for him. He was fairly confident that Arya would take up leadership if only she understood what he meant. He turned around eagerly towards his beloved expecting her response.

“This is not the time, Eragon.” Arya said softly. “We must not disturb the knife edge balance we have now.”

He understood. It wasn’t the case of her deriding him for shirking away from duty. She just suggested that he was the most acceptable to all races at the moment. “But you will help me?” He asked hopefully.

She simply gave him a look as if he were a child. ‘What kind of question is that’ was written all over the look. He smiled at her and turned his attention to the beautiful spring day that was fast approaching sunset.

A few minutes of calm flying later, they crossed the Ramr. The sight of the river brought to his mind, most painfully, the Varden army and its ineffectiveness in the last battle against Galbatorix. They had been stripped of their ability to cast magic and that spell still remained active. As he lamented the plight of the elves without use of magic, a flash of recognition hit him.

‘Alight. Now.’ He said not able to explain anymore of his thoughts.

Saphira complied and Indra followed her. Once they were on the ground, Eragon reached into Saphira’s saddle bag and picked the book that Galbatorix had so casually put away before their fight atop Edoc’sil began. He had collected it from the ruins in the hope that it might hide several secrets of Galbatorix. But now it became clear as to what it held.

He opened the book to find it half empty while the other half was a filled with a mundane text. But he was not deterred. He gave the book to Arya and explained his thought process, “This must be the name of the ancient language. Why would Galbatorix take it all the way to Utgard? He was reading from it when we came up on him and do you remember his last words? It was Skjaldborg. He wanted to be protected. By the ancient language.”

It was enough for Arya. The prospect of members of her race being able to use their birthright once again was too big for her to resist. She began reading from the book, with assistance from Saphira. Eragon did not join in though, the prospect of reading a largely mundane text not appealing to his senses. Indra joined him in the lazy club.

Wanting to make themselves useful, he and Indra went off to spread the message of the death of Galbatorix to as many of their allies as possible leaving Arya and Saphira to sort out the mess of the ancient language.

He contacted Orik first. The dwarf king was rather grim in mood as he had taken up the arduous task of leading the men of Varden to safety. “Galbatorix is dead.” Eragon delivered the message bluntly, when Orik acknowledged him. The truth hadn’t yet sunk in. The pain was raw and it allowed only this simple disclosure.

But that seemed to be more than enough for Orik. “What?! That is the sweetest news I have heard in my entire life!” Orik responded.

“Bring the army back to Uru’baen. We still have a siege to lay and a city to capture from Galbatorix’s trusted men.” Eragon informed his adopted brother.

“With pleasure, I will Kingkiller.” Orik said.

“I did not kill that monster. It was Shruikan.” Eragon hurriedly explained before the unnecessary title of kingkiller attached itself to him, like that of shadeslayer.

Surprise flitted across the dwarf’s face before he said, “I see… Where is he now?” There was a slight hesitation in his voice, a classic sign of distrust.

“Dead.” Eragon said simply.

Orik nodded his head curtly once understanding that there was more to the story than Eragon let on. “I will be in Uru’baen two days from now.” He informed.

When the water cleared, Eragon let out a heavy breath and said “Draumr Kopa.” This time the water coloured and revealed the faces of Roran and Islanzadi.

“Eragon! Thank Angvard, you are alright!!” Roran yelled into the air as soon as Eragon called them.

“Shadeslayer.” The queen acknowledged him. He could sense the unasked question in her voice.

“Arya is doing very well, your majesty.” Eragon said. Islanzadi visibly relaxed.

“What about your pursuit?”

“We succeeded, my queen.”

Roran jumped for joy at hearing this. “He is gone then? You killed the bastard!” He asked happily. Eragon allowed him his enjoyment because he knew Roran was just happy that he could finally hold Weldhana in his hands.

“And how are Saphira and Vanendra?” Islanzadi asked not going into the particulars of how the deed was accomplished. It didn’t matter for her in the current circumstance.

“They are both quite happy. Indra is with me and Saphira is helping Arya lift the curse Galbatorix put on the ancient language.” Eragon explained.

Islanzadi’s face brightened visibly before a doubtful expression clouded it. He knew why. So he proceeded to explain: “Galbatorix had made a note of the name.”

“I see,” the queen said. It was clear that she was not convinced. But that was all he could give her at this moment. They didn’t even know if the contents of the book was actually the name of the ancient language.

He then explained about how Orik was bringing the army back for the siege of Uru’baen. “Good,” said Islanzadi while Roran looked unhappy at the prospect of more fighting. They ended the meeting with a thousand more things to be said on either side.

Lastly he contacted Nasuada. Before he could so much as utter one word after contacting the former leader of the Varden, he was interrupted. Of course he would have to contend with Angela.

“You are still alive?” She asked in an incredulous tone.

For some reason Eragon liked the short witch’s quirky question. Everyone expected him to be dead although they wished otherwise and Angela was the only one who had the guts to tell that to him.

“Surprisingly, I am.” Eragon replied brightly.

‘What is this witch about?’ Indra asked clearly miffed that someone would be more direct in their interactions than even the dragons.

‘She is what she is. I can’t claim to know enough about her except that she can be trusted.’ Eragon replied truthfully.

“And your accomplices?” Angela asked hopefully.

Nasuada cut in at this point. “Did you kill him?” She asked.

“Shruikan did.” Eragon replied.

“I knew it! You were not up to the mark.” Angela exclaimed eliciting a bout of laughter from Eragon.

‘That was not funny.’ Indra said affronted by being called incapable.

‘With her, it is.’

Nasuada had tears in her eyes. “I can’t find words enough to thank you Eragon.” She said.

“Well, you should not thank him any way. That belongs to that big black dragon.” Angela said interrupting whatever Nasuada was about to say. She was in a fine mood and Eragon hoped that would prove to be a good thing for Thorn’s nerves.

“There is no need to thank me for anything Nasuada. You sowed the seed for this. You brought the Varden out of hiding and you retrieved the all important map.” Eragon said ignoring Angela’s comment.

Then he asked how Murtagh did and was replied that he had slept like a log ever since Eragon put him to sleep. Eragon took it as a good sign as he really did not know what he should do for Murtagh’s happiness.

It was decided that Eragon would contact the elven town of Kirtan which was the nearest elven settlement from Nasuada and her group’s location and tell them of the arrival of the group.

He tried to impart the directions to the town to Angela but the witch stubbornly refused to hear saying it would be fun to search an elvish settlement in the forest of Du Weldenvarden. “Besides Elva can have a little adventure with the forest,” was how Angela justified herself.

Eragon scried Kirtan and spoke to Rakshana about Nasuada and her company. He had feared that the elves would not accept Murtagh among them. But the ruler of Kirtan was understanding. When he told her of the help Murtagh had rendered in the ultimate defeat of Galbatorix, she was quite glad to receive him and promised that she would look after Murtagh till his conscience cleared.

Eragon had experience with Kirtan and was convinced that it was the perfect place to heal the mental wounds of his half brother. It was a merry place for whomever sought merriment and a calm place for whoever sought solace.

They then spent a few minutes discussing how they would take Uru’baen without without shedding much blood. Eragon was impressed with Indra’s ideas and ideals. For one so young as him, he was overflowing with strategies. Arya’s intellect had rubbed off on him.

While Eragon was busy admiring Indra, the said dragon exclaimed: ‘She has done it!’

‘What?!’

‘The name. You guessed it right!’

The name! Magic was going to be normal again! The two of them rushed to Arya and Saphira. ‘Little one!’ Saphira called to him excitedly when she saw him.

Arya was more sober but gave him a soft glance and went back to whatever she was doing. He ran to Saphira’s side while Indra found his way to Arya’s side.

“Let us do it!” Eragon said feeling restless.

Arya put him under a hard stare for a moment and went back to her meditation. ‘Patience, Eragon.’ Saphira said fondly. ‘She is checking for any potential curses.’

Eragon sighed. He did not think Galbatorix was talented enough to conceive something as complex as hide a curse in the ancient language. But he knew how cautious Arya could be and so waited for her to complete her inspection. Meanwhile, he took Brisingr out of its and said its name half hoping that it would catch fire. But nothing happened.

A while later Arya opened her eyes and said, “Hryggr at tíðr.” Nothing happened but a slight smile found its way to Arya’s lips. She looked down at the ground and said, “Risa.”

Eragon watched in awe as a small blue flower rose from the ground and settled in her hand. It was a tiny thing but held extreme beauty when in Arya’s soft hand.

Arya smiled pointedly at him and held the flower for him to take. When he hesitated, she said, “Your restlessness amuses me, Eragon. You really need a lesson in managing your emotions and actions.”

He frowned at her not understanding what she was meaning.

‘Why did you try to burn your sword while she meditated?’ Indra asked with a chuckle.

They did have a point. He could not sit by himself without doing anything. He was restless. But he did not think it was a drawback. It was just how he was. He plucked the flower from Arya’s hand and said in a whisper, “Well, my dearest princess… only your eyes can give me rest.”

Arya raised her eyebrow at him and asked, “Have you informed my mother and the others about what happened in Utgard?”

Eragon saw that she was wantonly ignoring his comment and replied, “The gist. Yes.” He still expected her to react to his earlier comment although she just nodded and turned to Indra.

‘If that was an effort to woo her little one, you really need to take some classes from Roran.’ Saphira said nudging him playfully.

‘I was being truthful! The waves from the ocean that are her eyes captivate me.’ Eragon said sounding innocent.

He felt himself placed under a sideways glance by Arya. It felt good; like he was given wings of his own to fly around Alagaesia.

The intoxicating effect of Arya’s look wore down a few seconds later and he realised what might have triggered such an action from the princess. ‘You let her hear that!’ He exclaimed at Saphira.

‘I didn’t know you were going to go all poetic on her!’ His dragon defended herself. ‘Besides I don’t understand what is so embarrassing about it. You did state the truth, didn’t you? And she did like it, didn’t she?’

Eragon put his head down in defeat. Dragon nature was so alien in such matters. He needed a two-leg to confide in. Looking at a stone on the ground and sighing heavily, he murmured, “Blast it!”

The stone cracked with a loud noise causing him to jump away from it in surprise. He had used ancient language wordings and had invoked magic in his frustration! He heard three distinct voices of laughter: two deep rumbles and a silent giggle. He coloured and said, “Magic works! Let us move.”

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An hour later they were united with Islanzadi and Roran. Roran hugged him tightly leaving no room for him to breath. Eragon didn’t complain though. He was too happy to care. The greeting of Arya and Islanzadi was every bit as emotional and open as Roran and his. The exhilaration was finally settling in, Eragon could feel.

They spent several hours talking to each other, sharing every bit of happiness they felt. Roran shared his dreams of a mansion in Carvahall which Katrina and Weldhana would rule and Eragon told Roran about the state of things between him and Arya. They were happy to just be the brothers they were during their Carvahall days.

Saphira spent her whole time with Indra, the two dragons spending most of their time in the air, just enjoying the feeling of the warm spring wind on their wings. Being the last bodily living dragons they were the only representatives of the race that had finally brought about the downfall of Galbatorix. But that did not seem to be on their minds as they played like little children.

Arya and Islanzadi were in deep conversation and were still speaking when Eragon, Roran and the dragons went to sleep. Before long Eragon was deep in his dreams. He dreamt of playing with a cute little child with Arya’s green eyes and his chocolate brown hair. Happy to just have laid his eyes upon so beautiful a thing he beamed in his sleep.

But he wasn’t given the chance to continue playing with the child as Arya shook him awake. He frowned at her before she said, “Mother wants to talk.”

His frown deepened. What would Islanzadi want to say to him at such a late hour in the night? Had something gone wrong? But one look into Arya’s eyes gave him all the answers he needed. Of course, the queen would want to speak about that.

Becoming self conscious, he checked his hair and clothes. Arya laughed. “You are fine as you are. Come on!” said she and dragged him towards where the queen had set up a beautiful little tent using her newly regained magic.

He almost showed his disappointment when Arya dropped his hand once they reached Islanzadi’s tent. “Can we come in mother?” She asked.

The queen admitted them in. Eragon was astonished by what the queen had accomplished in a matter of few hours. The tent was easily large enough to accommodate at least four people and had all the essentials one would need.

“Do be seated Eragon.” Islanzadi said. The lack of unnecessary honorifics in her greeting was new to him. He took it as an encouraging sign.

When he was seated, the queen remained silent, as if reminiscing on some past event. Arya, for her part, had suddenly developed an interest on the blank insides of the tent walls. Becoming restless, Eragon shifted his legs.

“Our king Evandar died when Arya was just about two years old leaving me to take care of his kingdom.” The queen said suddenly surprising Eragon with both the content and tone of her speech. “From then onwards, as you might already know, I wasn’t a good mother to her.”

“Mother!” Arya interrupted only to be silenced by a wave of hand by the queen. Eragon sat up straight knowing he was hearing some of the most private thoughts of the queen.

“She has suffered so much, not knowing mother’s love and fighting the forsworn when elves of her age learn sword wielding. And above all, I kept her away from me all through her adolescence, the greatest of cruelties she was forced to face. When Durza captured her and I abandoned her for dead, you came.”

The queen became silent, putting Eragon through a lot of stress. He wanted to know what the queen had in mind about him. Did she approve of him as her daughter’s mate? He kept his eyes on the queen waiting for her to speak.

“Don’t let her shed any more tears, Eragon.” Islanzadi said in a choked voice.

Eragon stood from his place and knelt beside the queen. “I promise… I promise that there will always be a heartfelt smile on her face henceforth. Ensuring that it never goes away will be my life’s purpose.”

Author’s Note:

Another two chapters and we should be done. Be warned; there might be a few time skips going forward. This chapter was more of an immediate aftermath. I hope I satisfied what you were expecting in this.