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The Last Scion
By : RotSeele
Category: A through F > Eragon
Views: 5098 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon. I do not make any money from this story.
Chapter List
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To-Ga-Ir

Murtagh sat quietly beside Assan, the gold-eyed mage who had first spoken to him. His story had bought him an audience with the other sorcerers of Assan’s order and now he was listening to the whole group speak before the To-Ga-Ir’s chieftain. Assan argued for Murtagh; at least, that was what Murtagh hoped, and tried to keep himself from making his situation worse. He was already strange enough to these people; he didn’t need to ruin his chances by speaking out of turn. Finally, Assan turned to Murtagh.

“They want you to swear on your name that you will do as you say.” Assan frowned behind his veil when he saw Murtagh’s eyes darken. But the boy nodded and looked to the chieftain.

“I swear to you as Estel az Ahir-Enei, as Murtagh Morzansson, that I will help you against that which hunts you.”

There was silence for a time, but finally the chieftain nodded and the tension in the air eased. Assan rose, gesturing for Murtagh to follow, and follow he did. They left the chieftain’s tent for another, this one smaller and less ornate, and Thorn greeted them by it. He lay curled like a cat, ruby eyes meeting Assan’s before they turned to Murtagh.

-Yurich chose to remain by the water.- Thorn told him. -He says he’ll stay out of trouble.-

“Let’s hope he does.” Murtagh murmured, and disappeared into the tent with Assan. He sat on a pile of pillows when directed, staring wide-eyed at the scrolls around him. Assan passed him a bowl of fruit and nuts, watching the smaller man carefully.

“Don’t touch them!” Assan snapped when Murtagh reached for a scroll. He moved then to take the scrolls and put them away, frowning. “Written word is sacred. No one but those who went through the proper training may touch it.”

Murtagh watched Assan for a long moment and then turned his attention to the bowl of fruit. He knew Assan was watching him and tried not to flinch. “Tell me,” Assan said finally, “do you expect this resistance to believe?”

“No.” Murtagh replied with a sigh. “I expect them to try and kill me the moment they see me. But I can hear the land screaming in pain, the trees crying for freedom.” He paused, shaking his head. “I don’t make any sense.”

Assan frowned. “Of course you make sense. What I want to know is how you know the world under this Eragon will be any better.”

“I don’t know if it’ll be any better. I don’t know who will be set up to rule. I’m just the guardian of the land.”

“Quite the task for someone so small.”

“If I don’t do it, no one will.” Murtagh snapped. “Maybe I won’t be alone. Thorn has a brother being kept by Galbatorix. If he hatches, he’ll do to him what he did to Thorn and I.”

“The enslavement?”

“Beyond that. He has spells that force growth. Thorn went from the size of a cat to what he is now in a matter of weeks.”

Assan cursed. “That’s a perversion of nature.”

Murtagh made an assenting noise and the pair sat in silence for a while. They stared at each other for a while, and Murtagh was the first to look away.

“I’m sorry.” He said. “I’m not good at this sort of thing.”

Assan’s voice held amusement. “You don’t say. Well, since I have little other choice, I’ll help you get a little better at diplomacy.”

They spent the next hours practicing certain scenarios until they were fetched for the communal supper. They sat together if only because Murtagh knew Assan the best and he still felt a little nervous without Thorn beside him. The To-Ga-Ir celebrated this night but Murtagh leaned over to Assan, the only one who didn’t share in his tribe’s joy. “How many have died?”

“Countless,” Assan replied. “What you see here is less than a third of what was.”

Murtagh frowned. “Is there a safe place you can take them? And I’ll need someone to show me where the monsters dwell.”

“This is the safest place we’ve found so far,” the shaman replied. “Wherever we go, they seem to follow. What do you intend?”

“I mean to fight them.” Murtagh said. “They were shown to me once, when I was still a slave to their master. I learned a few tricks that might help.”

“And you think these tricks can do what we could not?”

“I have to try.” Murtagh looked back at Thorn and Yurich, both watching him and Assan. “They’ll help me where they can, but other than that…” Murtagh trailed off, sighing.

“You’ll need more than your lizard and the Halfling, boy.”

“I know.” Murtagh frowned, leaning back to look at the sky. “But until I face one, I don’t know what else to do.”

Assan chuckled. “Well, what would someone do if they can’t go alone, but need to go nonetheless?”

“I can’t ask you to leave your people.”

“They don’t need me nearly as much as you seem to.” Assan smirked at the glare sent his way. Finally, Murtagh returned the smirk and sighed.

“Perhaps having you aiding me would be a good idea.”

“Perhaps so.” Assan replied. “Now come. Get your rest. We will go as soon as it’s dawn.”

Murtagh rose to follow the shaman and looked to Thorn. -Are you ready?-

-No.- The dragon replied. -But we must.-

Murtagh nodded absently and disappeared into Assan’s tent, looking to get some sleep before the next task began.

Thorn glided on thermals over the three riders below. All the red dragon carried on his back was his saddle and a pack of supplies the riders below would need. His eyes were far better than those of the two-legs below, and so Thorn warned the riders of things that were coming. This was how they managed to avoid the first contingent of As’ratlegûl. Assan reined in his To-Ga-Ir pony with a gentle tug on his mane, and Murtagh followed his lead. He had to lean to help Yurich, but soon all three had dismounted and Thorn came to land beside them, crouching low.

-They’re coming toward us.- Thorn said. -They haven’t seen us, but they will shortly.-

“Do we have time for an ambush?” Murtagh asked as he let his pony go. The loyal animal wouldn’t go far, but it would stay out of the fighting.

“Probably not.” Yurich spat. Thorn agreed with the dwarf and felt the change in his Rider as the human drew his bow and arrows.

“We’ll try to surprise them.” Murtagh looked at Assan. “Can you provide back-up?”

“What kind of back-up do you want?” the To-Ga-Ir shaman asked, smiling.

“Be creative.” Murtagh nocked an arrow and looked to Thorn. -Get high and come down with fire. They’ll probably be shielded, but they won’t be expecting you.-

-All right.- Thorn spread his wings and prepared to launch himself into the air. -I won’t hesitate to land if you’re in danger, though.-

-Just don’t be stupid.-

-The same goes for you.- Thorn launched himself into the air and rose high into the clouds where his approach would not be seen.

It was too late for the other three, for the contingent of seven As’ratlegûl was upon them. Murtagh managed to launch his single arrow into the eye of one, but it did nothing to deter the attack. Cursing, Murtagh dropped his bow and quiver, and withdrew Celeb’sûl, slamming the hilt into the closet As’ratlegûl’s face.

It took Murtagh a moment to realize the foul things were not after him. Assan was their target – they had been commanded to eradicate the To-Ga-Ir only.

Celeb’sûl howled as it came down on a female As’ratlegûl’s neck, hewing it clean from her shoulders. An axe lodged in her chest, Yurich snorting as he brought his battle axe up to defend against a lunge as the As’ratlegûl finally realized one of their own was dead. Assan’s blue magic was enough to shield him from the worst of attacks, but Murtagh knew the shield wouldn’t last. Before he could get over to the shaman, Assan unsheathed a silver scimitar and blocked a strike that would have run him through. Six of the foul things were left; if they were this impossible to kill, how would Murtagh be able to survive?

He ducked under a swing that would’ve beheaded him and swung Celeb’sûl hard enough that the blade lodged in the foul wraithe’s ribs. The male As’ratlegûl cackled in his victory and grabbed onto Murtagh’s wrist to keep the boy from disengaging. Murtagh snarled and grabbed the offending hand.

“Tluthker!” he shouted and broke free as the As’ratlegûl’s flesh caught on fire. “Talab na khardûn!” Murtagh finished the spell and twisted away with Celeb’sûl in his grip.

The male As’ratlegûl chuckled, thinking Murtagh foolish, for what were a few flames to an undead like him? The fires, however, grew in intensity and would not go out. Murtagh scrambled for his bow and nocked an arrow. “Udrenn azaïr gulhoun.” The young Scion whispered and let his arrow fly.

He didn’t wait to see if the arrow hit its mark, instead nocking another arrow and aiming it a second male As’ratlegûl, firing it with brisingr adhered to the arrowhead. It lodged in the wraithe’s spine and ignited. Assan hurriedly backed away and Yurich howled an oath as he threw another one into the burning As’ratlegûl’s head. Bone crunched as the creature dropped and the last death only seemed to incense the final four As’ratlegûl more. They renewed their assault on Assan and both Murtagh and Yurich were hard-pressed to help the shaman.

-Thorn!- Murtagh cried. -We need you!-

-I come.-

Thorn was a dark bullet hurtling out of the sky, wings folded tight to his body and head angled down as flames licked at his lips. Murtagh threw up a shield around Assan before Thorn’s fire engulfed him and he could hear the shaman cursing within the red, iridescent orb. Thorn shot up as the As’ratlegûl burned and banked, coming down for another pass. This time, one was ready for the dragon. A bolt of red light crashed into Thorn’s chest, burning scales to the point they had begun to slough off. Thorn howled in pain and back-winged, trying to slow his momentum before he hit the waiting pike. Murtagh nocked another arrow.

“Alaün na Talab!” yelled the young Rider as he loosed his arrow. The very tip of it limned in red electricity as the black shaft erupted in flame. The arrow impacted the As’ratlegûl with a thunderous clap and the concussion wave hit Thorn with enough force that it likely saved his life. The young dragon tumbled in the air and managed to crash into a soft dune. The As’ratlegûl howled as he clawed at the arrow, but it was too late. He burst into flame and let out a terrifying howl as he collapsed in on himself.

The remaining two charged toward Murtagh, their filmed eyes focused on the young Rider. Murtagh brought up Celeb’sûl and used his bow to deflect an attack made for his throat. Yurich cackled as his last throwing axe crashed into one As’ratlegûl’s skull. “Come on then, ye stinkin’ demon!” he howled and bowled one over as he rushed it.

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to antagonize them?” Murtagh asked breathlessly as he blocked a downward strike with Celeb’sûl’s cross-guard and slammed the end of his bow into his opponent’s sightless eye.

“As if we’re not doin’ that already!” Yurich yelled back. “Shaman, a little help?” He tumbled between his opponent’s legs at the last second.

Assan cursed and swung his hand, collecting a dust devil to do his bidding. Thorn rolled out of his dune and roared. The dust devil solidified, the sand crystallizing as the creation became a golem. Murtagh cursed and disengaged from his opponent, rushing for Yurich to pull the dwarf back as the crystal golem fell upon the remaining two As’ratlegûl. Yurich struggled against Murtagh until he watched an arm land at his feet and blanched.

“The thing’s twisted.” He muttered. Murtagh sheathed Celeb’sûl and rolled his eyes, moving to Thorn and examining his chest. He whispered a healing spell over the flesh and Thorn squirmed as scales quickly regrew to shield his flesh once more.

Assan stared at Murtagh with a new respect. “You weren’t harmed?” he asked.

Murtagh shook his head. “Not seriously. A couple scratches and bruises, nothing to be concerned about.” He looked the shaman up and down. “How are you?”

“Whole.”

“And I’m fine, thanks for askin’!” Yurich spat. He hefted his axe to his shoulder as he eyed Murtagh. “Ye fight well, fer a human.”

“I’ve fought a few worse things, but they were easy to kill.” Murtagh replied as he turned to examine the rapidly decaying bodies of their enemies. “These are like the Immortals, but not even a beheading seems enough.”

Assan snorted. “It’s seven less we have to worry about.”

“There were thirty-nine.” Murtagh said as he looked at Assan from beneath his bangs. “If we’ve only managed to kill seven there are still thirty-two to deal with.”

“Now there is where you’re wrong, Sharru-Kinu,” Assan said with a smile. “We have managed to kill twenty before your arrival. Now we four only have to worry about twelve.”

Sharru-Kinu? Murtagh shook his head. “Twelve then.”

“Doesn’t seem so bad.” Yurich muttered. “Twelve against four. Sounds fair.”

“Let’s try not to have this happen again.” Murtagh said finally. “We were able to win this time, but they’ll be expecting us.”

Unfortunately, Assan and Yurich agreed with him. The To-Ga-Ir shaman whistled for the ponies and Murtagh turned inward for a moment, seeking advice from one who wasn’t present.

Elysian wasn’t pleased that she was woken from her slumber, but she curbed her irritation when Murtagh told her what had happened. The great purple dragon listened quietly and then gave her advice.

-I wasn’t an instrument in their creation, so I don’t know for certain, but a strike to the heart shall do that which it is meant to.- She told the young Scion. -They aren’t Shades, but they aren’t human or elf either. Something keeps them alive. You must find it.-

-How will I know it?-

-You will.-

“Murtagh?” Yurich nudged the Rider as he came out of his trance. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” The young man replied. “I was just thinking.”

“Well, you can think in the saddle.” Assan said. “We still have a long way to go.”

Murtagh nodded and looked to Thorn. “Fly ahead and be my eyes?”

Thorn canted his head and watched his Rider for a moment. -Always.- He spread his wings and launched into the air, gliding easily along thermals as he rose higher.

Murtagh mounted his pony after retrieving his arrows and quiver, and tapped his heels against the animal’s sides. It whickered and obliged its rider, wide hooves easily pressing down sand for a speedy gait. They rode without incident and when night finally fell, Murtagh moved to confront Assan. The shaman didn’t look surprised to find the Rider within his personal space and smiled slightly. Murtagh frowned.

“You called me Sharru-Kinu.”

“So I did.”

Murtagh’s frown increased at the amusement in Assan’s voice. “What is it?”

“You have learned nothing in our short time? My people called you Sharru-Kinu since you were accepted as To-Ga-Ir. Even Thorn was given a new name, as well as the dwarf.” Assan watched Murtagh’s eyes darken. His face seemed pale behind the Scionmark. “It means ‘true king’ in the language of the To-Ga-Ir. Our people believe only kings are gifted with the custody of a dragon as well as one who has had the grace to learn from those who vanished long ago.”

Murtagh blinked. “The Fel?”

“The Fel. They were stories when I was born, but you’ve revealed to us the truth in your weapons and clothes and manner.” Assan smiled a little. “Thorn is called Khalada.”

-Eternal and everlasting.- The red replied. -You were preoccupied. I would’ve told you, but it didn’t seem important.-

Murtagh reached to touch Thorn’s warm muzzle. “We seem to be collecting names, aren’t we?”

“Sometimes,” Assan said, “that isn’t a bad thing.”

“No. I suppose not.” Murtagh replied softly.

Whatever moment Murtagh and Assan had then was shattered by a loud Dwarven snore. Sighing, Murtagh moved to get some rest, knowing his journey was far from over.
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The Last Scion	By : RotSeele Category: A through F > Eragon Views: 5098 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon. I do not make any money from this story.

The Last Scion