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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
- 12
- 13
- 14
To My Father I…

They didn’t encounter any more As’ratlegûl as they rode. The ponies tirelessly moved forward and even Thorn had to land when it became too hot for him to fly. The companions kept moving forward and filled the time with stories and training. Assan put Murtagh through the drills to be a To-Ga-Ir shaman so he would no longer offend the older man when he opened Estel’s book. Murtagh learned about Yurich’s own plight in more detail and promised he would help the dwarf in any way he could. For a while it seemed as though the companions were just traveling the world and swapping stories, but their purpose was still clear in their minds. Murtagh often consulted Elysian or Hazamel or Nosirius as they were the only ones who were able to manifest when the moonlight was able to break through the increasing cloud cover. Sometimes, they allowed Assan to join them, sometimes they didn’t. Thorn was always with Murtagh, though, and he marveled at his brethren.

They were getting closer to their goal day after day, as the skies darkened with clouds as black as smoke and that jumped with electricity. Thorn refused to fly and none could fault him. The harsh, sandy terrain slowly changed to stone and Assan soon refused to take the ponies further into the desolate place.

“They will wait here.” Assan said as he patted his mare’s neck. “We must go on foot.”

“Works fer me.” Yurich quipped, grateful for solid ground. “I like havin’ my feet on solid earth. No offense, Thorn.”

Thorn chuckled. -None taken.- He angled his head away from the three below him and looked out onto the horizon. -Evil lives in this place.-

“And unfortunately, that’s where we have to go.” Murtagh said. “We leave everything but what’s essential behind.” He tightened his Elvish knife to his thigh and fastened Celeb’sûl and his Fel blade to his back and hips respectively. “And let’s try not to eat anything from this point forward.”

Yurich looked at him curiously. “Why?”

“It will become fouled.” Assan answered for Murtagh. “These lands are now held by vengeful spirits that will try to kill you.”

“And that’s if you’re lucky.” Murtagh added. He eyed the dwarf with a smirk. “Still want to go?”

Yurich cursed and spat. “’Course I’m goin’! Can trust a skinny shaman and a fire-breathin’ lizard to watch your back.”

Thorn shot Yurich a glare, but Murtagh only laughed. “Very well. Come on. Keep your eyes open and don’t stray from the path. Thorn, follow behind.”

-Better that way. I can catch foolish dwarves unaware and nip them.- As if to prove his point, Thorn nudged Yurich hard enough that the dwarf nearly lost his balance. Yurich yelped and snarled at the red dragon, but the one with the more impressive set of teeth won that battle.

Murtagh shook his head. “Let’s go.”

The four headed into the diseased land single-file, Murtagh leading as his shielding spells proved the strongest. Thorn’s nostrils flared as he picked up many strange scents. He thought he smelled deer, fat and juicy deer just waiting for his fangs and claws. What a feast he would have! He would have enough to feed not only himself but also his mate and clutch! He took a step forward, scenting the kill.

-Thorn!- Murtagh’s voice was loud, pained. Thorn tore himself away from the deer-scent to stare at his Rider. Murtagh was starting to sweat, his left hand outstretched and in a fist. Thorn looked down and found himself suspended off a ledge. He flared his wings and helped Murtagh pull him back to safety.

-I’m sorry.- Thorn said mournfully.

-It’s all right.- Murtagh replied with a gentle smile. -If you get any bigger, though, you’re on your own.-

Thorn buzzed annoyance, but he planted his feet and focused on his Rider. The scents teased him again, but he ignored them this time. Assan and Yurich had roamed ahead, so Thorn felt a little better knowing they hadn’t seen his slip. Murtagh didn’t tell the mighty dragon they too had been caught in the same trap. The four came to stand on the lip of a canyon and stared out onto the blackened landscape.

“This once was green.” Assan said. “There were once fields here, and many people. Those ruins in the distance, they were homes and temples. Then the demons came and destroyed it all.”

“Will it ever be green again?” Yurich asked.

“Not in our lifetime.” Murtagh replied. He looked at the dwarf and canted his head. “The taint runs too deep. It could take hundreds, even thousands of years before something green grows here. Not even all the Dragon Riders, past, present, and future could cleanse this place.”

Yurich frowned. “How sad.”

“All we can do now is protect those who may yet still be able to live here.” Murtagh said. “Once we destroy the rest of the As’ratlegûl, the spirits will be able to rest.”

“You sure?”

“It’s a gut feeling.”

Assan snorted. “Let’s hope your gut doesn’t get us killed.”

-Only one way to find out.- Thorn said. He shook himself and nodded. -We must go.-

Murtagh put a hand on Celeb’sûl’s hilt and took a deep breath. Then he began his descent into the wide canyon that the To-Ga-Ir once called home.

A thick most rose close to nightfall. It was hard to tell when it was exactly true night, for the dark clouds blocked all starlight and moonlight into the cursed lands. The three bipeds huddled against Thorn’s side for warmth, not wanting to risk a fire in the fog. They slept little and in shifts, for they could hear the howling of the spirits and As’ratlegûl, and none wanted to be caught unawares. Murtagh was the one who was awake most often, dozing here and there but careful not to let his senses stretch too far.

When they walked, they walked in complete silence, not daring to speak even if they felt they must. The mist grew thicker, becoming almost a mire the further the quartet went into the cursed lands. Above, thunder clapped as the skies jumped with electricity, illuminating the world for them. Still in the distance charred ruins rose, beckoning them further at the same time repelling them. Murtagh tightened his grip on Celeb’sûl and pushed forward, hardly feeling safe in his Fel-made armour. He froze as the misty mire that surrounded their hips began to slowly dissipate, sinking down to their ankles. Thorn raised his head and rumbled lowly, voicing his displeasure at the changing scenery. Yurich shifted uneasily on the dragon’s back.

“They know we’re here.” The dwarf whispered, letting Murtagh help him slide off the great serpent’s back. The young Rider looked around him and frowned.

“They know and yet they don’t attack.” Murtagh heard Assan say. “Why?”

“Because they’re waiting.” Murtagh replied. “They want to see who we are, what we’ll do. We destroyed seven of their number; they don’t want to be hasty.”

“Or perhaps their leader just told them to wait until we get closer.” Yurich muttered, taking a better hold of his axe.

-Something doesn’t feel right.- Thorn told Murtagh. -The elders are silent, all save for my dam. She is weeping.-

Murtagh held up his hand and motioned for silence, listening for what couldn’t be heard. The Rider felt his dragon’s wariness as he felt his own, and tried to sense the As’ratlegûl within the ruins. Instead, he brushed against a consciousness that was familiar and foreign and felt it welcoming him, drawing him closer.

Thorn roared a warning and Assan grabbed onto Murtagh’s outstretched wrist in a tight grip. The Rider gasped as he felt at least a dozen other consciousnesses battering against the Scion mark’s shield and if it weren’t for Assan, Murtagh would’ve fallen to his knees. He was able to recover in time to aid in shielding his friends as three As’ratlegûl came at them howling in victory. They battered against the huge iridescent shield, snarling and chortling as they fought to get at the four within.

“Well, ye certainly pissed ‘em off now!” Yurich shouted at Murtagh as he readied his battleaxe as the shield began to fail.

“They didn’t have what they wanted until now!” Murtagh hissed to the dwarf. -Thorn, I need you to get Assan and Yurich out of here!-

Thorn roared in anger. -I will NOT leave you!-

-They won’t hurt me!-

-You don’t know that!-

The shield shattered and the three As’ratlegûl came at them. Murtagh snarled at the stubbornness of dragons and withdrew Celeb’sûl, blocking and As’ratlegûl’s blade as it thrust toward his chest. He spun his red-bladed scimitar and knocked the sword wide, stabbing forward as he came across with his Elvish dagger, slicing his opponent’s throat. The As’ratlegûl cackled at the failed attempt to kill him and brought up his sword to kill the Rider now that he was within the guard of his opponent. An axe slammed hard into the foul creature’s head and Murtagh wrenched free, staring at Yurich. The dwarf snorted.

“Ye made me a promise, remember?” the dwarf shouted as he hauled up on his battleaxe as he lunged toward a new opponent.

“How could I forget?” Murtagh muttered and ducked as Thorn’s tail soared over his head to crash into Murtagh’s foe, snapping the body in half. Murtagh stared up at the dragon and saw those crimson orbs glaring at him.

-Stubborn human!- Thorn snarled. -If I didn’t share your heart I would think you were trying to get killed!-

Murtagh blinked and turned to throw his knife at Assan who was pinned down by his own opponent. The To-Ga-Ir shaman whirled, striking twice with his own weapon, turning the As’ratlegûl into the trajectory of Murtagh’s Elvish knife. The weapon broke bone as it drove into the creature’s chest, burying in his heart. The demon choked and writhed and both Murtagh and Thorn recoiled as they heard the dying scream of a dragon as the As’ratlegûl died. Yurich’s opponent was distracted long enough for the dwarf to slam the blade of his axe into her head and split it open. A few more strikes drove the As’ratlegûl apart, and Yurich spat on the corpse and turned to the ruins, axe held high.

“Is that all ye’ve got, demon!” Yurich yelled, euphoric on quick victory.

Assan retrieved Murtagh’s knife and glared at the dwarf as the small warrior moved back to the others with a smirk. Murtagh stared at the dead once-Riders and shuddered. Thorn’s nose bumped his shoulder.

-They’re like you and I.- Murtagh told the dragon, placing a hand on the warm red snout. -A perversion of a Scion-bond.-

Thorn blew smoke and shook himself. -To kill a Rider is to kill the dragon. That’s why the blow to the heart will kill them.-

“Murtagh?” Assan questioned softly. “What troubles you?”

Murtagh took his knife back and sighed. “These are Riders. They were killed in the war before I was born and Galbatorix turned them into demons.”

“If they’re Riders,” Assan began, “where are their dragons?”

It was like reflex; both Assan and Yurich turned to look at the skies as if expecting an entire flight of dragons to come down on them. Murtagh gave a bitter smile.

“In their hearts.” He said. “If a Rider dies, so does his dragon. If the dragon dies, the Rider can live on if he chooses. But these… if I understand correctly, when Galbatorix killed the dragons and took their Eldunari, he made wraiths out of the Riders by binding their consciousnesses, their souls, to their dragons’.” Murtagh laughed derisively. “A perversion of the Scion-bond.”

“How cruel.” Assan muttered, staring not at Murtagh’s face but at his heart. “So it’s true then, that Thorn’s Eldunari resides within you.”

“I am his heart of hearts and he is mine.” Murtagh answered. He shook his head before more questions could be asked of him. “I don’t understand everything myself, but now isn’t the time to dwell on such matters.”

“Right.” Yurich said with a grin. “We’ve got nine more of these demons to deal with deeper in.”

“Eight.” Murtagh corrected the dwarf. “You three have to deal with eight. I’ll take care of the ninth.”

Thorn looked about to argue. Murtagh could feel his worry and apprehension. Murtagh looked at the mighty dragon and tried to smile. “They’ll need you more than I will.”

-Doesn’t mean I won’t worry for you.- Thorn rested his chin on Murtagh’s shoulder. -How will I talk with them?-

Murtagh beckoned Assan to him and before the shaman could protest, he placed Assan’s hand on Thorn’s snout. The shaman jerked when he felt a spark against his palm and stared wide-eyed at the Scion. -Don’t be afraid.- Murtagh told the To-Ga-Ir. -I need to be able to talk to you, and you need to be able to talk to Thorn.-

Assan’s eyes flicked to Thorn. -Dragon.-

-Elf-kin.- Thorn rumbled. His ruby gaze turned then to Murtagh. -I will keep them safe.-

Murtagh nodded and spent a few silent moments instructing Assan before he withdrew from the shaman’s mind. “Once you’ve completed your tasks, we’ll meet right back here.”

Yurich’s eyes focused on Murtagh. “Sounds like you’re giving us the difficult job.”

Murtagh’s smile as humourless. “Maybe. But you’ll survive it. Besides, the eight As’ratlegûl will be easy compared to their leader.”

“And ye mean to fight him alone?”

“I must.”

Yurich eyed the human and shook his head. “Why we all can’t go is a mystery to me. But fine. I’ll scratch my itch with the underlings.”

“There’ll be plenty more things for your axe to kill.” Murtagh told the dwarf. “This I have to do alone.”

The wind howled suddenly, as if a thousand voices were calling in a war dirge. Assan whispered something in his native tongue and even Yurich cursed. Murtagh stood his ground with the hilt of Celeb’sûl clutched in his right hand. Thorn flared his wings and snarled softly, twitching his tail agitatedly as he felt what Murtagh did – a presence drawing them closer and yet repelling them at the same time. His crimson eyes focused on the interior of the ruins and, as much as the dragon hated it, he knew this trial was for his Rider alone.

Murtagh took a few steps forward, then turned to look at his friends. “Remember, we’ll meet right back here.”

Assan nodded and gestured at Yurich. He placed a hand on Murtagh’s shoulder and bent his head forward. Murtagh repeated the gesture and felt a strange little jolt when the crown of his head touched Assan’s. They stayed that way only briefly and Assan nodded when they pulled apart. “Protect yourself.”

“You do the same.” Murtagh’s eyes went to Thorn. -You know what to do.-

-I will defend.- Thorn canted his head at his Rider, then turned to follow Assan and Yurich as they moved into the eastern side of the ruins. Murtagh waited until he could no longer see them before he turned and headed into the northern part of the once-great keep, Celeb’sûl drawn and ready. Hazamel’s opal flickered as he keyed one of the spells he had imbued it with, limning him in an almost invisible crimson light. While it rendered him invisible to the normal eye, it illuminated him in the dragon’s spectrum, and allowed him to see in the dimness he was surrounded in.

The air around him seemed to get heavier and a mist began to swirl about his ankles. He heard the sounds of fighting and Thorn talking to Assan, but he ignored his beloved dragon’s voice and focused on his own task.

He stepped carefully, finally raising his left fist above his head. “.” A soft glow began in his palm and Murtagh entered into a wide chamber with a broken ceiling. He supposed this must’ve been the throne room for there were ruined tapestries still clinging to the stone. He slowly made his way to a sconce and leaned close to it. “Brisingr.” The sconce erupted with flame.

The flame raced along a groove in the wall, igniting other sconces and rendering Murtagh’s two spells useless. He extinguished them and turned to face the figure that reclined in the broken throne.

Murtagh smiled bitterly, hate shining in his eyes. “Hello, Father.”
- 12
- 13
- 14
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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