UPDATE: I have gotten rid of the prologue, and so the story will start directly with chapter 1.

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Chapter 1: A hero's funeral

BOOM!

A drum sounded high above the streets of Illrea, jerking Phineas to full awareness. Clouds filled the sky above him, as if even the sun did not want to show its face on this sad day. He was standing up on a riser, filling one side of a large square in the middle of Illrea. He stretched upward.

His legs had been exhausted standing up for many hours on the riser, as speakers from all over Alagaësia had come to give their eulogies for a death that had rocked across the corners of Alagaësia. The legendary scholar Jeod had died of old age. Phineas knew not of him, for his greatest accomplishments had come far before his time.

But as he saw the sadness in the faces of those in present that day, including those of King Jörmundur as well as his father, Lord Antor the king's second-in-command, he began to realize what Jeod had meant for the members of the former Varden, and as the final speaker's words fell over the crowd, the drums began to sound.

BOOM!

They began to carry Jeod's body, on top of shields as were the custom, through the streets of Illrea out to the fields beyond, and on the plain in which the Varden had camped twenty years prior before the battle of Uru'baen, there they would bury Jeod, where he had wished to be buried on his deathbed.

Phineas trudged slowly behind the precession. He was fourth in line directly behind his father. At the front of the line, directly behind Jeod's body was his widow Helen. She wore all black with a black veil covering her face, hiding the sorrow that she felt at the death of her husband. Helen looked old as well, with grey hair flirting at times outside the veil.

Falling behind Helen was King Jörmundur followed by his father and then him. He was the youngest in the precession by far. At only sixteen, he was born almost four full years after the fall of Galbatorix, so the emotions and sorrow felt today were not his own, as he had not been around to feel the pain of mad king.

They followed the body out of the city one step at a time, the only sound being the beat of the drums and the stomp of feet. Nobody dared talk, for they were all affected by Jeod's passing. After thirty minutes of this marching, they had left the city behind and now stood along the ground of the former camp, as Jeod was placed gently on the flowing grass, his long white beard falling daintily on his chest. The hole in which he would be placed had already been dug by soldiers, and Jeod lay next to it. A flat stone had been placed at the head of the grave, with the words:

Jeod

Scholar of Old

Friend of Brom, creator of the Varden

Hero

May he forever Rest in peace

King Jörmundur stepped up. "At last, we have reached the final destination of Jeod. He was a good man and a true friend. Unfortunately, time does not care if you have good in your heart, or are evil beyond all measure, for it destroys all that is in place. All we can do now is honor Jeod with his sacrifices and accomplishments. May he be in peace for eternity."

When the King's words stopped, two soldiers came up, picking up Jeod's body, and placing him gently in the hole. Helen stood silently over the grave, as tears rained from her eyes onto the ground, looking one last time at her former husband. She stepped back and nodded to Jörmundur. The same two soldiers returned with spades in their hands, and piled dirt onto Jeod's body. When the last crevice had been filled in, they smoothed out the dirt, and the great scholar Jeod was no more.

Some hours later, back in Illrea, a great feast took place in the great citadel of Illrea, as the people drowned their sorrows with food and mead, toasting to Jeod's memory, for now was the time to celebrate his life, not feel the sadness of his passing. Phineas mostly picked at his food throughout the meal. He had been bored for most of the time, and all he wanted was to return to his room. But his father forbade it. Phineas was to be present at all events of the day, as Lord Antor reminded him that one day Phineas needed to learn and courtesy and to attend events such as this, as he would be the one to take his father's place one day.

And yet the hours rolled on, not giving Phineas the reprieve he needed. He continued to eat few items on his plate, until his father, who was sitting next to him, nudged Phineas to get his attention. "Do you see that man down there?" Antor asked as he pointed at the other end of the long table to a large bearded man sitting at the other head of the table.

"What about him?" Phineas asked.

"That is Lord Roran Stronghammer," his father explained, "he has come all the way from his great hall in Palancar Valley. He was a hero in the war against Galbatorix, and he has flourished since then. You know, he has a daughter, Ismira, who is about your age, albeit a bit older. I could introduce you."

"Thank you for the offer father, but I don't think I would be interested in her right now. I do not think idle small talk will be of use."

"Do not think I take this offer lightly. You will do what I command. I know what is best for someone your age, and you must learn respect if you are ever to take my place one day."

"What if I don't want to take your place one day?" Phineas snapped, raising his voice, "What if I want to live my own life without having to worry about what you want?" Phineas looked around, his louder voice had got the attention of the earls around him, and they all were staring at him in shock.

Embarrassed, Phineas quickly got up, "I-I will take my leave," he sputtered softly, and quickly left the table heading for his room. He quickly sped through the hallways and staircases, until at last he arrived at his quarters. He pulled himself in, locking the door with a thick wooden plank resting on the latch and threw himself onto his bed, screaming into his pillow.

"It's not fair," he yelled at the open air, "I don't have the freedom to be myself, and I must hide behind a curtain of courtesy without discovering who I am!" He cried for a few more minutes softly to himself. His exhaustion grew over him, and he fell asleep, tears still in his eyes.