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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
- 13
- 14
- 15
Truth or Lies?

Morzan unfolded himself from the throne of the To-Ga-Ir and smiled lazily at his son. Murtagh stood his ground, standing in a three-quarter turn, Celeb’sûl at his side. He was ready, balancing on the balls of his feet, all of Yozh’s training culminating into this moment. Murtagh’s only memory of this man was a violent drunkard, a man who was his sire, never a father. Morzan slowly stepped down the dais to the floor, separated from Murtagh only by a handful of meters. There was no indication those filmed blue and green eyes recognized the youth, and Murtagh fought to keep from giving in to impatience.

“You’ve grown well.” Morzan spoke finally as they began to circle. “How fares your mother?”

Murtagh kept his face blank. “She’s dead.” He replied. “She died not long after you.”

Morzan’s face twitched. “I see. And my old friend Brom?”

“Dead as well.”

“Pity.” Morzan smiled. To his hand a sword appeared, a ghostly image of Zar’roc, the sword that had been broken. “I would’ve enjoyed returning the favour.”

Murtagh frowned and continued to circle as his father circled, ready for any hint of an attack. He received no warning, however, and barely managed to dodge Morzan’s lunge, knocking aside the ghostly Zar’roc with Celeb’sûl and opening Morzan’s throat with his Elvish knife. The wound would’ve killed a mortal man, but for Morzan, it was no consequence. His flesh healed almost instantly and he laughed at the attempt.

“Well done! You’ve learned well from Tornac!” Morzan turned to face his son, grinning.

“It wasn’t Tornac who taught me that.” Murtagh spat.

Now Morzan frowned. “Who then? Not… Galbatorix?”

Why did Morzan sound worried? “No.” Murtagh replied. “Not Galbatorix. A weaponsmaster as cruel and as kind as they come and a man who was more a father to me than you ever were!”

Now Morzan’s face twisted into a mask of hatred. “What lies did she fill your head with? I was more a father to you than Selena was your mother!”

“You took me away from her! You gave me this scar on my back! You ruined my life by giving me your name and yet,” Murtagh snarled, calming himself as they began to circle again. “And yet you gave me the greatest gift of all. Just like you, I’m a Rider. Just like my brother.”

Morzan froze. “Your brother? I have another son?”

“Yes! His name is Eragon. Three years my junior.” Murtagh heard the bitterness in his own voice. “And because of you, mother ran away to give birth to him. Because of you, our lives that were once separate entangled. Because of you.”

Morzan was in his face before Murtagh registered the movement. He blocked Zar’roc with Celeb’sûl, the two blades sparking as they came together. Murtagh was forced back and disengaged with a spin, coming back at his father with a series of cuts and thrusts, the latter short and controlled, looking for an opening. Murtagh was an instrument of his training, thinking of only his next motion and nothing else, focused on Morzan and everything around him, backing his father up against a wall. Morzan kicked out and caught Murtagh in the side as the young Rider twisted to avoid it and reversed their positions, pinning Murtagh to the wall. Morzan snarled.

“All I’ve ever tried to do was protect you!” Morzan roared. “When you were born it was the happiest moment of my life! It was at that moment when I first held you that I realized my mistake. But it was too late for me. Yes, I took you away from Selena. Yes, I kept you from worldly knowledge. I was never there for you when I should’ve been! But don’t you accuse me of cursing you, Murtagh! I loved you! I still love you!” Morzan stared at Murtagh for along moment, then tilted his head. “If words aren’t enough, then perhaps I’ll show you.”

Pinning Murtagh to the wall with every ounce of strength the As’ratlegûl possessed, Morzan pressed his palm to Murtagh’s Scionmark. All Murtagh could see was Morzan’s gëdwey ignasia and then nothing at all.

He awoke to screaming. Murtagh opened his eyes and found himself outside a familiar wooden door, watching a familiar man pace back and forth. Murtagh listened to his mother scream again and heard the midwives coo to her, and watched Morzan flinch each time Selena cried out.

“I was a nervous wreck.” Morzan said from behind the young man. Murtagh looked sharply at his father and was met with a mild gaze. “We had lost Kialandi only the week before and another had vanished not long after. The Varden were increasing their attacks and as much as I needed to be out with my surviving brethren, I knew that this was far more important.”

Selena’s screaming had stopped, but now a baby’s wail filled the silence. A midwife opened the door to admit Morzan, and the As’ratlegûl and Scion followed the Forsworn into the bedchamber. Selena lay surrounded by pillows, eyes closed and her head turned away from the wet-nurse holding an infant. She shook her head and closed her eyes tighter.

“She won’t take the babe, milord.” The midwife was saying to Morzan. “She won’t hold her son.”

Morzan frowned and took from the wet-nurse his son, moving over to Selena. “Why won’t you hold your child?”

“I don’t want it.” Selena snarled, now glaring at Morzan. “I don’t want to have anything to do with it. It will hamper my skills, and I can’t afford that.”

“He’s your son.” Morzan protested.

Selena sniffed and looked away from the Forsworn Rider. Morzan didn’t say anything more then, turning to the midwife and wet-nurse. To the former he left his wife, to the latter he gave the charge of his son. Out of earshot of Selena, Morzan stroked his son’s face.

“His name is Murtagh.” Morzan said softly. “Allow him to believe his mother loves him, and keep silent for his sake.”

“As you wish my lord.”

Murtagh turned to stare at the As’ratlegûl. “Is that true?”

Morzan laughed bitterly. “It wasn’t she who changed after your birth. Your mother was a cruel and cunning woman. She was my perfect weapon and my perfect folly. She knew how to use you against me.”

The memory wavered and vanished and now Murtagh found himself watching an all-too familiar memory. He saw himself at precious three years old, sitting by Morzan’s legs as the man calmly read to him from a volume stolen from Galbatorix’s collection. Murtagh remembered the book – it had detailed dragons and fueled his dreams of them. The door to the sitting room opened to admit Selena and she looked at the young Murtagh with disgust. Morzan slowly closed the book and rose to greet her but she turned away from him.

“Your king calls you.” Selena said without feeling. “Go. Go! I will watch Murtagh.”

The young Scion flinched at the disgust in his mother’s voice. She had truly hated him? He watched Morzan hesitate then nod, and leave the woman with the boy.

“I shouldn’t have left you.” The wraithe spoke in a said, grieving whisper. “I shouldn’t have left you with her. She had already met Brom, had fallen in love with him. You were in her way, Murtagh. In her own ambitions you were only a tool to make me suffer.”

“What does Brom have to do with this?” Murtagh asked, knowing what was coming but unable to look away.

“Brom began the Varden. He commissioned the eggs to be stolen and got away with only Saphira’s. He changed your mother, no doubt telling her anything he could to gain her trust. No doubt he told her that you would follow in my footsteps and that your brother would as well.” Morzan stared at the woman he once loved as she circled the little boy who kept reading the discarded book. Her hands reached for Zar’roc and she smiled so sweetly when the child looked up at her.

“Look. Dragon.” Murtagh said proudly as he pointed at the picture in the book.

Selena’s smile never reached her eyes. “Yes. A dragon.” She raised Zar’roc over her head and brought it down hard, intending to kill. Murtagh reached out to stop Selena, but it was a memory, and his hand passed through her. Zar’roc came down and Selena laughed at the child’s horrible cry of pain. Blood was everywhere, pouring from the diagonal wound on the little boy’s back. Morzan never once looked away and felt his son’s trembling.

Selena dropped Zar’roc and fled.

Morzan turned to Murtagh and spoke softly, “I returned almost too late. You would’ve bled to death.”

“I should’ve been dead.” Murtagh murmured. “Why did I survive it?”

“Because as twisted as I had become, I still loved you.” Morzan replied. “Love is powerful magic, Murtagh. It binds us together and becomes our strength. Zar’roc didn’t kill you because it was an extension of myself and imbued with my love for you.”

Murtagh closed his eyes.

When he reopened them, they were back in the broken throne room and Morzan pulled away from Murtagh. Murtagh stared at the As’ratlegûl and tried to keep his face neutral. “How do I know you’re not lying to me?”

“What reason do you have to believe I am?” Morzan countered. “I wasn’t the best father or the best man I could be, but I loved you. You became my life.” Morzan’s blue and green eyes focused on Murtagh’s own dark ones. “You know how that feels, don’t you?”

Murtagh fought back the flush that threatened to take over his face. Morzan stepped back a bit more and summoned to him his ghostly Zar’roc. “If he’s your life, then defeat me to protect him.”

Murtagh tightened his hand around Celeb’sûl’s hilt and realized his father wasn’t talking about Thorn. They circled each other again, stepping slowly and waiting for an opening. Murtagh lunged first, coming in low. Morzan cut Zar’roc across before him to stay Murtagh’s attack, but the young man twisted, performing an aerial roll with his arms pulled tight to his chest. He landed in a rolling crouch and he threw his Elvish dagger at Morzan’s heart. The As’ratlegûl brought his hand up to block the knife and charged at Murtagh. The young Rider danced back, parrying the vicious, rough cuts Zar’roc made. The two blades sparked as they came together and Murtagh’s arm shook with the force of the blows. When he managed to break away, Murtagh grabbed the hilt of his Fel sword and brought it out for a dual-wielding style.

He saw the surprise in Morzan’s eyes and let go of the part of him that felt emotions. All of Yozh’s training had created a place in his mind where it was calm and quiet and Murtagh was an instrument of his training. He let go of his fears and worries and focused on Morzan. Murtagh’s only warning to his father was the release of a soft breath. Then the Scion moved. He feinted left and jerked right at the last second, Celeb’sûl in his left hand cutting for Morzan’s throat as he twisted to bring his right hand up and across with the Fel blade. Morzan was able to deflect Celeb’sûl but not the Fel blade, and the flat blade crashed into the side of his face with enough force to knock out a few teeth. Murtagh didn’t stop, twisting around with his momentum.
Morzan kicked out at Murtagh’s back when he had the chance and watched in fascination as the young man fell into a tumble that brought him back to his feet.

“Who taught you?” Morzan asked.

Murtagh tilted his head. “Someone who has passed out of all memory.” He answered and came on.

Morzan found he was hard pressed to get within Murtagh’s defenses, faced with two blades instead of one. The young Rider was a master in the dual-wielding style he used, one always attacking, and the other defending, making Morzan work. He was wholly focused on his task, never once straying or stopping to calculate a move. Murtagh simply lived the motions. Morzan couldn’t help his smile and gave everything he had to this fight.

Morzan thrust forward with Zar’roc and the blow was knocked wide by Celeb’sûl’s gold-dragon wing hilt guard. Murtagh brought the Fel blade down in an arc and the blade pierced Morzan’s chest. It missed his heart by a span of a few inches, but it still drove Morzan down to the floor. Zar’roc cut Murtagh’s forearm and the young Rider let go of the Fel blade’s hilt as Murtagh backed away from his father.

“Well done.” Morzan said as he spat out dark, dead blood. He grasped the Fel blade’s hilt and pulled it out, tossing it away from him. “But you missed.”

Murtagh’s head canted slightly. “There’s something you aren’t telling me. What secret are you keeping?”

“I have many secrets and she knows them all.” Morzan replied as he stalked toward his on. Zar’roc came forward in a series of lightning quick jabs, forcing Murtagh to parry or be filled with holes.

Murtagh broke away and spun low, kicking Morzan’s legs out from under him. The Forsworn fell hard and Murtagh grabbed for Zar’roc, throwing it away from his father. He didn’t stop there, quickly straddling Morzan and driving Celeb’sûl through his heart. Morzan laughed, a wet, choking sound and he stared up at his son, nodding. “Well done.” Morzan coughed out. “Well done, my son.”

Murtagh knelt above his father, staring down at the As’ratlegûl reached to touch his face. His fingers trailed down the tail of the Scion mark and took one of Murtagh’s hands in his own. Murtagh looked down in his palm and found there a pendant on a silver chain. The stone was a clear violet shining with blue and red hues and pulsing with magic. “What is this?” he asked his father.

“My last gift to you.” Morzan said in gasping breaths. “It belonged to someone I knew once. He told me I would know when to pass it on. Use it to store your extra energies, like the opal in your sword.”

“Father?”

Morzan remained silent, staring with glassy eyes at Murtagh. The young Scion reached to close Morzan’s eyes and rose, clasping that silver chain around his neck.

-Finally… finally he is free.-

Murtagh listened to Morzan’s dragon speak, retrieving his weapons as he did so. When her voice faded away, Murtagh stood above his father, pretending he wasn’t crying. He reached out and held his left hand over Morzan’s chest, palm down. He took a soft breath and spoke softly in the language of Eragon his teacher.

“Adonai et azora ketân. Undal ohash jira’ashi. Ahnata kuhra’ash shin.” He took another breath and let it out slowly. “Morzan tluthker na tirash. Nun na aish.”

A flame jetted down from Murtagh’s palm and danced on Morzan’s chest for a moment before the body ignited. Murtagh jumped slightly as Assan placed a hand on his shoulder and drew him back a few steps.

“It is done?” the shaman asked softly.

“It is done.” Murtagh replied, keeping his back to Yurich and Thorn. Thorn brushed against Murtagh’s inner barriers to comfort him and Assan gently brushed a tear from Murtagh’s face. “Now we go back.”

Assan nodded and leaned his head inward. Murtagh repeated the gesture until their foreheads touched and the Scion sighed. “It isn’t over.”

“No.” Assan agreed. “But now we go to your lands with an army behind you.”

Murtagh nodded and looked to Yurich who had busied himself with his remaining throwing axes. He was grateful that the dwarf had given him a private moment and called silently to Thorn. The dragon’s ruby eyes focused on the pendant his Rider now wore. -That is Eluna.- Thorn said in awe. -It belonged to a druid who guarded a precious treasure.-

-Eluna.- Murtagh repeated. He touched the pendant and heard Yurich snort. “What?”

“I was wrong about ye, Murtagh.” Yurich said, now looking at the human. “Let’s go win that war.”

Murtagh looked to Thorn then and canted his head. -Are you ready?-

Thorn blinked. -No. But we must.-

Murtagh nodded and moved with Assan and Yurich out of the ruins, heading back for the To-Ga-Ir encampment in victory. But Murtagh didn’t feel so victorious.
- 13
- 14
- 15
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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