Eragon Book 4

Butterflies and Dragons

The day started with a dreadful sound, the scream of a man, a man who knew was about to die and could not do anything about it, a man helpless to the mercy of his enemy, a man that served Galbatorix, a man trained to kill, a man born to served and that served till death.

Eragon was accustom to this by now, for the last 3 days he had heard similar noises from Feinster, the city the Varden had taken with his help and Saphiras. Disturb by the sound, and knowing he would not find peace of mind till later in the morning he dressed as casual as he could and departed from his tent. The sight he presence for many would had been glorious, the once proud city of Feinster had been reduce to ash, the walls lay mainly in the floor, smashed by the Varden catapults, the palace had been torn to pieces from his fight with the shade, and finally most of the Empire's army in Feinster had been killed. Yes, for some general, for some storyteller, for some magician that would had been a magnificent view, but not for Eragon. He despite the fact that he had killed most of the soldiers, he hated that he had been the one who had burned the palace, that he had been the one who crushed the walls and overall that he had been the responsible for the Vardens brutal massacre.

Although he despite those facts, he did not repent of them because he knew that all of it was worth it, that all the suffering he had cause was going to pay off, that all the man he had killed would ultimately lead to something, and that something was Galbatorix death. Before he had just fought Galbatorix for the fate of Alagaesia, but now it was personal, as personal as his revenge from the Ra'zac had been for killing Garrow and Brom. Now it was personal because that foul-tongue traitor had slay his masters Oromis and Glaedr, the elder Dragon and Rider that had survived the downfall and had hid themselves in Du Welden Varden till their death to train the new Dragon Rider, himself. His death had stroked him, in the small time he had spend in Ellesmera he had not noticed the bond he had form with Oromis, he had been his mentor, and most importantly something like a father.

Saphiras conciseness envelope him in a tight embrace taking away all those fillings of grief and anxiety that had been growing within him since their teacher's death.

Little one, you know we could not have done anything to help them; the only thing we can do know is avenge their death by freeing the land from this Tyrant with the name of Galbatorix.

I wish it would be so simple Saphira, but its not, first me must become stronger, stronger to defeat Murtagh and Thorn by ourselves and then we must become even stronger to stand a chance against Galbatorix

Aye little one, very wise word from a very wise Rider

Saphira, sometimes I wonder if there is a way of wining this war, sometimes I can not see a way out of this mess.

Little one, remember any race is oblivious to the future, you might not see a way out now but tomorrow you might, the future is unpredictable sand such is our fate so be strong little one.

I 'am strong Saphira I have become stronger than any other magician except from Galbatorix in less than a year, I have achieved deeds of Vrael himself and still all my enemies overpower me.

Little one, no one doubts you, you inspire trust and hope in the Varden, you have accomplish great things only that our enemies have accomplish even greater ones.

A melancholic expression took over his face, his eyes closed and tears started pouring out of them, Saphiras huge body landed softly at his side, she as well had been overpower by grief and anxiety and could not help but suffer as Eragon did, they both starred to the infinite Horizon, hoping that something good would happened, that the scale could turn their side at least once.

As his thoughts became glummer and glummer, Eragon saw a butterfly, a white butterfly flying against a harsh wind that came from the north, to be able to land on a branch from a bush below, his first though was that the butterfly was to weak, that soon the wind would break the poor thing apart, but the butterfly kept flying with all her might, and after several minutes arrived at her desired resting place, then light and happiness overwhelm his as his morale rose and his spirit rejoice with hope. Saphira alarmed was unaware of the butterfly so Eragon gave her the exact memory of what the butterfly had done. Her spirit rose as his and both were happy again.

You see little one, even in the smallest of scales determination and hope were able to help the poor butterfly reach its goal, so we must have hope and determination ourselves that we will overthrown Galbatorix and avenge our Mentors.

Emotion flushed threw Eragon and he took his sword and setting it ablaze swore to avenge his masters and Saphira backed him up with such a roar that the city vibrated for a second.

Not soon after his oath, a small boy by name Jarl came running and gave him a peace of parchment. The parchment order Eragon to go to Nasuada's pavilion, for an urgent matter. He obeyed and ran as fast as he could to the red Pavilion, he soon noticed that the red pavilion was no longer red but rather a strange form of orange due to the constant movement and dirt that it had to support. He entered and as usual Nassuada stood proud and confident behind her desk, she look happy something Eragon had not seen before.-Why are you so happy? He asked- Isn't it obvious Eragon we had laid a fatal blow on the Empire, we are a step closer to our goal. -Well yes but each time we are closer to our goal also he gamble increases and it becomes more dangerous as well.-

-Ohh well what gambler can call himself such if he retreats at the first sight of danger?-

-None- replied Eragon with Amusement of Nassuada well played metaphor.

Well back to business- she said and her face became serious again. -Queen Izlanzadi has contacted me to tell me of her success in the capture of Gil'ead with least casualties-. Also she has cordially invited you to join her and her kin, in the burial of Oromis and Glaedr. Eragon had been preparing himself for this, but it still struck him hard was he strong enough to face the elves and even more see Glaedr and Oromis dead bodies.

Strength it all finally came down to it, not only physical strength but mental as well. Was he ready to see the lifeless body of his masters? He had to be, this was the least he could do for them and for himself, he was strong, very strong, if he could have survived two shades how come he could not survive a funeral. After a long pause he agreed to go and with great strength he stood up and when he was going to leave, Arya Shade slayer, the elf princess entered the pavilion. Greetings Eragon she said in a warm tone, she salute Nassuada but with a more cold one. Then she was as well told of the burial and agreed to accompany Eragon and Saphira in their long and tedious journey across the empire. This somehow lightened his burden and cheered him up, his relation to Arya was improving fast, and they had become very close since slaying the shade together. Eragon's twelve bodyguards were to stay with the Varden and protect them from Murtagh and Thorn if they dared to attack; Eragon had before living express his concern about the taking of Belatona, but Nassuada had reassured him that Belatona's army was small in comparison with the one in Feinster and also that her spies had successfully killed the magicians in the city and for their benefit had sabotage the doorway system of then gates which meant that there would not even had to build siege equipment. As Eragon took off he informed Saphira of their imminent voyage to Gil'ead and to prepare herself because they would be living tomorrow. Arya had dismissed herself, with the excuse of important business to attend before leaving. Then he took the time to explain the situation and plan of action to his guards who agreed to his trip but were extremely sad for not being able to assist personally.

The next day, the sun rose from the east and with the song of the morning birds was ready to depart north towards a burial he had but not wanted to attend.

Little one is our duty to go, is our duty to give them a proper funeral so that they might rest peacefully for eternity.

You mean Oromis because remember Glaedr resides now in his heart of heart safely in my pocket.

Little one this is something we must embraced together as one, as Dragon and Rider, this is something that could turn us mad by ourselves, but don't worry because you have me and that shall never change.

Aye

Then Arya appear from the west, and with a smiled on their faces He, Saphira, and Arya departed to Oromis and Glaedr funeral, towards the unknown, towards danger and overall towards a new adventure.