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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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Trial of the Blue Rider

The meeting was delayed for three days. Eragon saw little of Murtagh, catching fleeting glimpses of him among the To-Ga-Ir. On the night of the third day, a great funeral pyre lit up the night, and Eragon watched flickering shadows dance around the fire. He watched Thorn add his fire to the pyre, and saw a spark of red magic as Murtagh added his. When the fire finally burned to ashes, Murtagh and the To-Ga-Ir returned to the Varden, following a new chieftain. Nasuada seemed surprised that she was to face down Hatori, Kaucha’s daughter by blood and Murtagh’s sister by adoption. Hatori wore a warrior’s dress, her once long hair now cropped short, and her face stained by the ashes of the funeral pyre. She sat beside Murtagh, her guard and Assan behind them.

Also in attendance was Islanzadi and Arya, Orrin and his guard, Orik and Yurich, several of the head mages from the Du Vrangr Gata, and of course Nasuada and her guard. The meeting was being held within Nasuada’s private tent, which gave her the advantage. Or so she thought. It wasn’t until she began to thank the To-Ga-Ir did Nasuada realize her mistake.

Hatori snorted. “Fight for you?” she asked. “We follow Sharru-Kinu, and Sharru-Kinu only. While we fight on the same side, the To-Ga-Ir do not fight for Nasuada.”

“Then why are you here?” Nasuada asked the chieftainess with a bitter sound. “Why did you come all this way?”

“For my brother.” Hatori answered without pause. “He saw your failure and still sees it now, for though you’re a competent leader, you’re very fresh to war.”

“And what war have you been in?” Orrin asked, leaning forward with interest.

Hatori straightened. “I’ve fought against demons called the As’ratlegûl. I’ve fought in the Trial to become a woman. I’ve trained to be a warrior and a hunter. I’ve lived my life in the deserts where water is scarce. What wars, King Orrin, have you suffered in?”

Orrin didn’t reply, and only looked at Hatori with a strange gleam to his eye. One of the To-Ga-Ir warriors shifted behind Hatori and Orrin straightened. Nasuada turned to Eragon where he sat with Islanzadi and Arya. “What say you, Eragon?”

“Murtagh’s right.” Eragon said at length. “He knows Galbatorix better than we do, knows how he thinks and what his course would be. We’d be arranging our own defeat if we continue to do nothing.”

“I’ve spoken with Nar’Gharhvog.” Islanzadi interjected. “He agrees with Eragon that we should follow Murtagh’s advice.” Her eyes found Murtagh’s and he inclined his head respectively.

“But how can we trust him?” Nasuada asked. “You haven’t told us the whole truth about you, Murtagh.”

Murtagh’s smirk was empty and humourless. “Would you believe me? No. You’d believe I made it up and I’d lead you to a trap. You don’t know the extent of the cruelty I suffered, that Thorn suffered, under his control. Do you really think he’s throwing his best at you?”

“Are you his best?”

“He’s searching for the True Name.” Eragon interrupted. “If we attack now, he’ll have to divide his attention.”

Silence permeated the tent. Nasuada and Murtagh glowered at each other and suddenly Eragon realized Nasuada was afraid that Murtagh was trying to take her position as leader of the Varden. Murtagh rose then and pulled out a deep violet sphere. The silence became even more profound – Murtagh was holding an Eldunari!

“Elysian, great Lady, talk to one who descended from your Rider.” Murtagh spoke softly. “Tell her what you know.”

The violet Eldunari swirled and from within the gathering could see the shape of a purple dragon. Nasuada stiffened as she stared at the Eldunari and remained so until the Eldunari’s light went out. Then, Murtagh hid the orb once more. “Do you need more? Between the five of them, they have a little energy left.”

“You have five?” Nasuada gasped out.

“They were given to me by the very man you seek to defeat.” Murtagh said. “During my training, the months I refuse to tell you, Elysian alone had the power to destroy me. But since I made my choice, I stand here before you.”

Silence pressed down on the gathering, most in shock at Murtagh’s admission. Nasuada suddenly rose. “I must think. Tend your wounds and I’ll call for another meeting.” She fled without actually fleeing. Murtagh canted his head and moved to Hatori, the To-Ga-Ir gathering moving out of the tent. After a few moments, Eragon hurried after Murtagh. He nearly ran into the man, for Murtagh stood waiting for him. Eragon straightened and glared at his half-brother. Murtagh only gave him a mild stare in return before he turned to walk away. Sputtering, Eragon quickly followed.

“Why didn’t you say you had five Eldunari?” Eragon asked, almost yelling.

“They asked me not to.” Murtagh replied easily. He paused to look at the younger Rider. “I only obeyed their wishes.”

“And what you did today?”

“Elysian asked.”

Eragon glowered at Murtagh. “What do you plan on doing? Where do you plan on leading the Varden? On leading Alagaësia?”

“I plan on freeing Alagaësia from a tyrant. I plan on bringing back the Riders as they should’ve been. I don’t want to lead the Varden or Alagaësia.” Murtagh replied. “I want to end this war and live in peace. And if I need to keep secrets to do it, so be it.”

“Why would you keep a secret from me?” Eragon asked. “Family aside, we’re fellow Riders. If we can’t trust each other then we’ll be right back where we started.”

“Eragon, it’s not my secret to tell. I must get permission to tell you because lives count on my silence.” Murtagh replied, exasperated. “I promised.”

Eragon clenched his fists. “I want to know.”

“I can’t, Eragon. Maybe after the war is over, but now, I can’t.” Murtagh patted Eragon’s shoulder and turned to walk away. Eragon, however, quickly followed. “What must I do?”

“What?”

“To learn this secret. What must I do?”

Murtagh paused to look at Eragon and tilted his head. “Open your heart.”

Eragon froze as Murtagh turned to walk away, meeting Assan and Elva at the edge of the To-Ga-Ir camp. Eragon clenched his fists and glowered at Murtagh’s back. “Open my heart?” The vocalization didn’t bring any answers to him. He went to find Arya, hoping maybe she could answer his questions. He was asked, however, to aid in the healing, and soon forgot his desire to learn Murtagh’s secret.

-You risked much in revealing Elysian.- Thorn told Murtagh as the pair walked a wide field away from the camp. -And you lied to Eragon.-

“Do you think he needs to know Eragon and Bid’Daum exist? Or the Fel? How do you think they’d react to that knowledge?” Murtagh asked, looking up at the great red dragon.

Thorn rumbled annoyance but nodded. -I suppose you’re right. But will you tell them?-

“One day, maybe. But I’m hoping I’ll never have to, or need to, because the Fel and Eragon deserve their rest.”

-And you plan to live there as well one day.-

Murtagh smiled. “It was peaceful. But maybe we’ll follow Nimki’s path and go across the sea.”

-Maybe.- Thorn sighed. -Those days are still a long way, though.-

“Better for that then.”

Murtagh patted Thorn’s shoulder and closed his eyes, listening to the land. He hadn’t done this in a while, and so it took him a moment to get a feel for the land’s rhythm. Soon, though, he was listening to the plants, hearing their stories and hearing their songs. Thorn kept guard beside him while Murtagh communed with the land and made sure they wouldn’t be taken by surprise. When Murtagh opened his eyes, he felt calmer and ready to deal with what was to come. He and Thorn spent a few more hours out in the wilds before returning to camp and spending their evening hours with the To-Ga-Ir. The days passed in peace, outriders roaming far and wide before returning. Murtagh knew Galbatorix was gathering his strength for another strike, but when that strike would come Murtagh didn’t know. He wanted to move the camp, to go on the offensive and bring the war to Urû’baen. However, Nasuada hadn’t yet convened the meeting and no decisions had been made. Even though Murtagh knew he was strong enough to fight a lone battle, and the To-Ga-Ir would follow, they didn’t have the numbers to win the final battle. They needed the Varden and its allies.

Murtagh received word of the council through Elva. The hour didn’t bother him – meetings at night for secrecy were often the best – but it was that neither he nor Hatori had been informed. Murtagh decided then he was done playing the game. He asked Thorn for his opinion and received the dragon’s agreement. Every day that passed was a day less the mighty red had to save his young, unhatched green brother. Alone, knowing he’d have Hatori’s support whether she was there or not, Murtagh stormed into the council and simply waved his hand to drop a spell of silence upon the tent.

“What is the meaning of this?” Nasuada demanded.

“Be silent.” Murtagh snarled. Nasuada clutched her throat when her voice failed her and settled in her chair. The air around Murtagh shimmered with a red haze, shielding him from spells and weapons alike. “I’ll forgive you for not informing me or my chieftain of the meeting. I’ll call it oversight, for the sake of our allyship. What I cannot forgive is your fear that my presence here will cost you.

“Hear me now, Nasuada and the leaders of Alagaësia’s races. I’ll no longer stand idle and play these games of waiting and politics. I am Estel az Ahir-Enei, Scion of Alagaësia. I am the shield and sword of the land. Your hesitance is costing lives, lives that are wasted because of this hesitance and fear. I can help you; I know the way, the tactics, and the speed we need to have to win this.

“I’m not the same man who hunted you, not the man who caused you grief. I am here to protect you, protect the land and the people who live there. I am here, like Eragon Shadeslayer is here, to defend and protect, to stand for what is right. If we’re to stand for that, then what do you stand for?”

“How dare you speak to us this way?!” Orrin shouted. He started to rise, but Murtagh’s fierce glare froze him in place.

“Knowing what I do, I dare a great deal, King Orrin.” Murtagh snarled softly. “All my life I’ve been hated and distrusted because of my sire. Because I carry his name, it’s assumed I’m just like him. But I’m more than he was, I’m what he should’ve been! If our deeds are measured against our fathers’ then what are we worth? I’m finished with politics and playing these games. We don’t have time to play – every day that passes is a day we have lost for a chance at victory. Play your petty games after the ware is done.”

“What would you have us do?” To the surprise of all, this came from Islanzadi, the elf queen having kept her silence until now.

“I would have you fight.” Murtagh replied. “We create a battlefield of our choosing, of our favour.”

“One that would give us the advantage,” Islanzadi continued. “Yes,” she agreed, “And I shall vouch for you, Estel az Ahir-Enei, for if it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have Naegling in our possession.”

Murtagh gave a slight bow to the elf queen who inclined her head. Orik stroked his beard and nodded. “I vouch fer ye too, Murtagh. Ye taught Yurich the right way, and he’s given me great ideas to think about.”

Murtagh wondered if he felt giddy as the council fell in behind Orik and Islanzadi, but he kept himself calm and looked at Nasuada. “What say you?”

Nasuada gasped as sound returned to her and she glowered at Murtagh. “It seems I have no choice but to put aside politics and follow you.”

Murtagh nodded and dropped his spells. Eragon chose that moment to attack with a spell of his own, and found himself repelled. “But you don’t agree.” Murtagh said as he stalked toward Eragon, grabbing the young man by his shirt and pulling him out of the tent.

“You still have too many secrets!” Eragon shouted, wresting free from Murtagh’s grip and drawing Brisingr. “Why should we follow you, when all you’ve done now is use your magic against us?”

There was a crowd now, the leaders among them, and Murtagh could sense their doubt growing. He stared down Eragon and refused to draw his sword. “Are we performing a Trial then?”

The concept threw Eragon for a moment and it allowed Murtagh to get within the younger Rider’s defenses, delivering two quick punches to his gut before dancing away. Some would’ve cheered, both were sure, but Saphira and Thorn stood watching now. Eragon stumbled in his attack, finally realizing Saphira wouldn’t help him here. Brisingr howled in, but Murtagh dodged the attack and spun, kicking Eragon’s feet from under him. Unarmed as he was, he was simply proving his point: he didn’t want to fight with the Varden, Murtagh simply wanted the war to end.

He felt Eragon gathering his strength for a spell and Murtagh quickly sent a call to the roots buried deep in the earth. They shuddered at his call, but answered. Murtagh locked eyes with his half-brother and sighed. -A Trial, Eragon, determines who leads the Riders. Should you continue and lose, you can’t contest me when the time comes.-

-Then I’ll just have to defeat you!- And Eragon came on, swinging Brisingr for a kill.

Murtagh danced back, dodging that blade again and again. -Why are you angry? A day ago, you were agreeing with me and now you’re trying to kill me. Who are you trying to impress?-

“Shut up!” Eragon shouted and moved after Murtagh. The earth beneath his feet shifted, a tangle of roots coming up to snag Eragon’s feet. Murtagh moved in then, aware of the spell Eragon was casting, ducking around it and slamming his fist into Eragon’s diaphragm. He wasn’t trying to kill Eragon or shame him, but the young man wasn’t giving him much choice. The root tangle came loose and Eragon lunged for Murtagh.

Celeb’sûl sounded against Brisingr, the iridescent red blade holding where other swords would’ve shattered. “What’s wrong with you?” Murtagh hissed.

“You’re wrong.” Eragon replied. “You can’t lead like that. You used your power to force their hand and what do you gain? An army!”

Murtagh broke away and spun, Celeb’sûl coming up across his chest as he fell into stance. He was no stranger to fighting a Rider – he’d fought his teacher as part of his training – so Murtagh knew he could defeat Eragon. The question, no, the real battle, was getting Eragon to realize Murtagh meant no harm. Eragon’s right foot shifted and Murtagh lunged forward. He came in low, cut right and twisted to slam the flat of his blade against Eragon’s back.

Knowing everyone gathered was listening, Murtagh circled the prone and angry Eragon. “An army? No. I never asked for this. I never asked to be a Rider, to be the Scion, but that’s what I am and I don’t regret it. But I’m tired, Eragon. I’m tired of this fighting. Our niece doesn’t deserve to grow up without a father or mother. The children who have yet to be born don’t deserve a world like we live in now. Aren’t they who we’re fighting for? The children who are too innocent to know their world is wrong? The people who are afraid to speak out because they might disappear? The longer we take, the more victims there are.

“Our task as Riders is to protect the people. I don’t want to lead – I want to defend and protect. But unless we work together, unless we take the initiative, I won’t be afraid to protect you from yourself.” Murtagh spun Celeb’sûl around Brisingr and flung the sword wide. The very tip of that red blade pressed against Eragon’s throat. “Do you understand now?”

It was Nasuada who answered. “Yes. I understand now.”

Murtagh stepped back from Eragon. The Trial was over and all who gathered bowed their heads as the new leader of the Riders passed by.
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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