Chapter 24

Walking into the grand library of the dwarves, Arya looks about for the young dragon rider and finds him seated at a table in the corner with Brom. Upon the table there are stacks of books that they are diligently reading through. She sees Eragon writing notes on some parchment whilst having a conversation with Brom about his curse. Arya contemplates for a moment before striding towards them and sitting down next to Brom. 

"Still looking I presume?" 

Brom looks over at her with a wry smile. "Still searching. While we have a few options to choose from, none of them have a guarantee that they will work. Seeing as the mind and spirit of my son and the first dragon rider to be born in a century I refuse to take any chances." Brom leans back and stretches, his spine making multiple cracking sounds. "How about you? Have you recovered sufficiently enough to return to Du Weldenvarden?" 

Arya contemplates for a moment. "I have recovered, yes. I was planning on having that duel with Eragon before I left but it seems that the two of you are quite busy…" 

Eragon looks up from his notes. "I could use a good warmup right now. I have been working on this for the past week and I'm starting to feel a little antsy." As Eragon goes to stand up, a thought courses through his brain like a lighting bolt. "Wait… The duel… That's it!!!" 

Eragon sits back down and starts writing with renewed fervor. Brom and Arya look at each other, both with quizzical looks on their faces. Once Eragon finishes writing, he hands the parchment to Brom. 

Brom looks at the parchment and sees a complex spell that, when simplified, reads as follows, 'May you be purged of corruption of your mind, body, and soul. May this corruption be sealed in this container for all eternity.' He mulls over the lines in his head for a few moments before looking up at Eragon. "I mean… This is better than what we have so far…"

Eragon is currently shaking in his seat from excitement. "I am sure this will work!!! We had been looking at it all wrong. It's not a curse, but wild magic that was created by the negative emotions of the spirits that resided in Durza's body. During our duel, when I cast that spell to release the spirits from the prison which was his body, all of the negative emotions collected in one place and went inside me. It's a corruption that has seeped into my very being. This spell will remove the corruption and store it in a container so that no one else can get infected." 

Brom looks towards Arya with an exasperated expression. "What do you think, Arya?" 

Arya takes the parchment and reads the spell herself. Her eyebrows raise in surprise as she is genuinely shocked that a human of sixteen years can make such a complex and multifaceted spell such as this with only one year of knowledge under their belt. She quickly recovers from the shock and mulls over the spell for a few minutes. With a thoughtful expression she hands the parchment back to Eragon. 

"I wholeheartedly believe that this spell will work as intended. I see no issues, grammar or otherwise, that could cause the spell to not have the desired effect. You have excellent safeguards in place to protect yourself and those around you as well. As long as you are in a secluded room with no distractions and Brom and I are present to provide aid should you require it, we should have no issues whatsoever." 

Eragon feels intense relief now that his curse can finally be cured. With due haste, the group leaves the library and attempts to find a secluded room where they won't be disturbed. Eragon uses the mind link to tell Saphira about their discovery and to meet them at the great hall. From there, Orik directs them through the halls of the mountain city, the city being so large that it can hold the entirety of the dwarven race in a crisis, leaving a multitude of unused sections that have not seen living people in decades. 

Orik leads them into an abandoned training room, wooden practice swords and shields hang on racks along the walls collecting dust and cobwebs. Other than that the room is completely barren.

Orik waves his hand as if inviting them to enter. "Here you are. One secluded room as requested. If I may ask, what will you be doing here Eragon?" 

Eragon takes a deep breath. "As you know Orik, I killed a Shade about a month ago. As it died, a fragment of its malevolence infected my soul, tormenting me on a regular basis. Brom and I have been trying to find a cure since our arrival and now we finally have the means to remove it."

Orik looks at Eragon in contemplation, scratching his beard for a few moments. "I understand. Go right ahead then. I hope you don't mind me supervising your curse removal." 

Eragon gives Orik a reassuring nod. "Of course not. You and Hrothgar should know about whatever we are doing that can have any negative ramifications for your people. I want to prove to you that I am deserving of your trust." 

Eragon turns to Brom and Arya. "Now. Let's get this over with." 

As a precautionary measure, Eragon molds a portion of the stone floor into a table before laying down on it and covering his arms and legs with stone to lock himself in place. 

Brom walks up and looks down at him. "Are you sure about this? You can still back out now and wait for a few more weeks." 

Eragon shakes his head. "No… I've done a good job at hiding it but the nightmares are wearing me down. In a few more weeks I might not be sane anymore." Eragon takes a few deep breaths to calm his nerves. "Go ahead Brom. I'm ready" 

Brom nods in acceptance of his son's resolve and begins casting the spell. The spell is lengthy, taking a full three minutes to complete. When Brom finishes the final syllable, Eragon's eyes nearly bulge from their sockets and his body starts to spasm uncontrollably. Eragon's screams echo throughout the room as he thrashes about in intense pain. 

The confines of Eragon's mind are instantly flooded by the dark bubbling liquid that is the curse at work. His psyche is soon sealed off from the rest of the world as the curse completely envelops him. Within the confines of his mindscape, he finds himself floating in a pitch black void with no end in sight. Eragon focuses his mind and wills the darkness to leave his soul. The darkness reacts violently, forming tendrils that wrap around his body and dig into his skin. He grits his teeth in pain as he pushes even harder, pouring all of his heart and soul into expelling the darkness. 

While Eragon is fighting to remove the darkness, Brom, Arya, Orik, and Saphira watch as black liquid starts to pour out of Eragon. His mouth, tear ducts, ears, nose… Literally every orifice of Eragon's body is violently expelling the vile liquid. Brom grabs the special steel jar that Eragon made to seal the curse next to him and begins a second chant, this one to draw the liquid into the jar. Try as it might to oppose the command, its efforts are futile as it flows along the ground and into the jar.

Back within Eragon's mindscape, the darkness starts to recede, revealing a vast open plain with a bright sun shining down on him. Drawing strength from the warmth of the sunlight, Eragon expels the remaining darkness and lays down in the lush grass of his mindscape. His breathing is heavy and strained for a few minutes before he calms down enough to take in his surroundings. The serene landscape reminds him of the mindscapes from Fate/Stay Night . Such a thing never existed in the novels so the fact that he has one really locks in the fact that this world that he finds himself in is not what it seems. Eragon doesn't have the strength to really think about this at the moment as he promptly passes out. 

…

Waking up with a slight headache, Eragon opens his eyes and sees the underside of Saphira's wing covering him. Sensing him shift around, Saphira lifts her wing and turns her head to stare directly into his eyes. 

"You're finally awake, sleepyhead." 

Eragon rubs his eyes. "How long have I been asleep?" 

"Five days. Brom was worried that you may never wake up again but I never had that doubt. After you cleared out the curse, I felt how calm and tranquil your mind was and told them to let you rest."

Eragon stands up and stretches his aching muscles. His stomach also voices its complaints as it rumbles like a revving engine. "I don't know about you but I am starving." 

Saphira chuckles. "Then let's head off to the dining hall already. I will have the cooks prepare me an entire cow again. While I normally eat my meat raw, the seasonings that they used last time were exquisite." 

Eragon hops onto Saphira's back and they fly out of the Dragonhold and enter the mountain from the waterfall entrance once again. They stride through the city and are just about to reach the dining hall when Arya walks around the corner and sees them. Eragon waves to her in passing with a bright smile on his face and pointing towards the dining hall doors. Surprisingly, she gives a slight smile back and nods, walking up next to him. 

"I see that you have finally awoken. I have been waiting patiently for you to recover so that we may spar. Even though patience is a virtue that all elves excel in, I have lived with the other races for so long that their impatience is rubbing off on me." 

Eragon does a few experimental flexes, testing to see what shape his body is in currently. "Other than being hungry I feel fine. How about tomorrow evening at the practice field? Some fresh air would be nice for once." 

Arya's smile brightens. "I would like that…" She shakes her head from side to side slightly. "Go get some food and I will see you tomorrow then. Goodbye Eragon, Brightscales." 

Eragon waves to her as she leaves and Saphira dips her head slightly as she takes her leave. 

"Eragon… Do you still plan to court the elf?" 

Eragon looks up at Saphira with a raised eyebrow. "Definitely not. I mean… If she seems interested in the future I will consider it. I'm not going to get my heart broken for a second time. I cannot handle being rejected like that woman did to me in my previous life. Besides, you know how well that went for the previous Eragon…" 

Saphira snorts in contempt. "That won't stop your hormones from taking over in the future if you see an adequate female." 

Eragon gives her the stink eye. "You're one to talk. The you from the novels goes head over heels for Glaedr. You even bit his leg when he rejected you." 

Saphira smacks Eragon lightly with her wing, nearly causing him to trip. "I have no idea what you are talking about." 

Eragon rights himself and glares at her for a few moments before letting out an exasperated sigh. Their conversation halts there as they enter the dining hall and fill their stomachs with the top notch cuisine of the dwarven chefs. One of the dwarves tries to give Saphira some mead but Eragon stops him saying 'If you don't want five barrels of your finest mead to disappear down her gullet I would advise you to rethink your actions'. The dwarf's face goes pale at the thought and quickly scampers away. Eragon chuckles to himself before deciding to polish up on his sword techniques before his match with Arya. 

Five hours later, Eragon is seated in a cross legged position on the floor of the Dragonold, his body covered in sweat and his sword lying next to him in its scabbard. 

Calming his mind, he enters his mindscape for the first time since the curse removal. The inside is still a large open plain with a clear blue sky and a blazing sun that radiates a warmth that soothes his spirit and calms his mind. With adequate preparation, he wills a small part of the landscape to change. After a few moments, a small section of the ground starts to sink before filling with water, forming a small pond with crystal clear water. Once the pond is created, he exhales sharply and leans forward in fatigue. 

Both mentally and physically spent, Eragon exits his mindscape and lays on his back on the cold floor. As he lays there, he contemplates what his next plans are. 

"I've got like… Four months or so before the urgal attack happens. If it even happens at all. Ajihad has yet to deal with the twins as far as I know. Then you have Arya leaving Tronjheim after our duel. What can I do to get stronger? I could change my body with magic but I'm not confident enough to not mess something up, and it would be a pain to fix if something goes wrong. If I can make gears and the like, I could create some kind of heavy vehicle like a tank or something but that would draw a lot of attention and most likely kick start a technical revolution. I really want to avoid such a scenario if I can help it." 

Eragon rubs his temples for a few moments. "I got it! I will finish making all the words for the elements in the ancient language and recreating some sword techniques from games like Dark Souls then go from there." 

With a simple spell, Eragon removes the sweat and grime from his body then puts back on his shirt before grabbing his parchment and ink. He works on translating the elements into the ancient language for a few hours before falling asleep. 

… 

The next morning, Eragon awakens to Saphira growling at a dark-skinned woman that is standing in the doorway that leads to the spiral staircase. Recognizing her by the resemblance to her father, Eragon taps Saphira's thigh to tell her to calm down. 

"Sorry about her, she is very overprotective. You must be Nasuada, daughter of Ajihad am I right?"

Surprised that he knows who she is, Nasuada's eyes widen slightly before her shocked expression changes to a playful smile. "Yes, I am Nasuada. I am surprised that you know who I am. Did my father tell you about me?" 

"Your body features and the way you carry yourself is very similar to his. How I know your name will be my secret. I do have one question though. Why did you come all the way up here?" 

Nasuada rolls her eyes. "I've wanted to see the new dragon rider since your arrival but you have kept yourself so busy these past few weeks that I was never able to find you at an opportune moment."

Eragon scratches the back of his head sheepishly. "Sorry about that. I was working on crafting my own sword and armor, along with all the other training I have been doing, keeping me busy this entire time."

Nasuada raises an eyebrow. "You make your own gear? Why didn't you just use the dwarven weapons and armor? Hrothgar would have had all of it custom made specially for you."

Eragon walks over to where his sword and armor is stored and grabs the blade and scabbard. "Even before Saphira hatched for me I had been making my own equipment. Now that I am a rider, I have been diligently working on perfecting my craft." 

Eragon pulls the blade free of its scabbard, holding the handle with his left hand with the blade flat against his right palm. "This is the best I can make currently. The culmination of my knowledge and strength."

Nasuada walks a little bit closer and examines the blade. Having been around weapons her whole life, she can tell that the sword in his hand is a masterpiece of the highest quality. If he had said that the sword was made by a master blacksmith she would believe him. 

Eragon sheathes the blade and sets it next to his armor. "It was wonderful meeting you Nasuada, but I must get going. I have a duel with Arya today and I must prepare for it. Give me a moment to get my armor on then we can walk down together." 

Nasuada stares into space for a few moments before shaking her head and putting a smile on her face. "Of course Master Eragon, I shall wait a few steps down to give you some privacy." 

Once Nasuada walks away, Eragon puts on his armor and sword while talking to Saphira. 

"Is that candidate number two?" Saphira says with a smirk.

Eragon shakes his head and sighs. "What is with you and finding me a mate? I have far better things to do than look for a wife… At least wait until Galbatorix is dead." Eragon pauses for a moment. "It might have to wait until we find out what the deal is with that army invading the coast in my vision. Brom knows about my visions, maybe he will have an answer. Might as well tell him about the urgal attack as well." 

"Seeking counsel from your father is smart, just remember that you can't rely on him forever. You need to make your own decisions." 

Eragon readjusts his left gauntlet as it felt a little loose. "You're right… I avoided Brom's death but I cannot postpone the inevitable." Eragon, now fully decked out in his armor, hangs his head for a moment at the thought of Brom's death. Brom is the father he has always wanted, in this life and the one before, and it pains him greatly that they might not have much more time to spend together. His melancholy stare swiftly changes into one of determination. 

I better get going… Can't leave the ladies waiting now can I?" 

Saphira snorts, a small puff of smoke escaping her nostrils. "Get going before I sit on you." 

Eragon holds his hands up in mock fright with a large smile on his face before leaving the room and walking down the spiral staircase with Nasuada. The two make some small talk while they descend to the great hall. 

…

A few hours later, with a light breakfast in his stomach, Eragon arrives at the training field. The training field is a large outdoor space with a perpetual fog that blankets the area. Waiting for him in the center of the field is Arya wearing a set of leather armor with a sleek, thin blade on her hip. He strides towards her till he is around five paces away. Arya looks him up and down, examining his armor as this is the first time she has seen it. She is pleasantly surprised at the quality of the armor, thinking that in the future, his crafting skills could reach Rhunon's level, the sword smith of the elves and the creator of the rider's blades.

Breaking out of her musings, Arya draws her blade and enters a stance, the blade pointing towards Eragon. Eragon responds in kind, drawing his sword and holding it in front of himself with the blade pointed upwards. The tension in the air is palpable, causing the nearby dwarves and humans who were training to stop and form a circle around the combatants. The two stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, waiting for someone to make the first move. 

Eragon steadies his breathing before rushing forward and executing a quick side slash. Arya parries the blow with ease and counter attacks, aiming for his right wrist. Eragon just barely manages to dodge the hit before blocking her next few attacks with his sword. Eragon finds himself on the defensive as Arya continues to rain blow after blow upon him, her blade a blur in his vision that he is only able to block because of the instincts that he has honed over the past year. Each collision of their blades creates a shower of sparks that flash in the dim light. 

Realizing that she is just too fast compared to himself, Eragon switches his stance, staying lower to the ground and throwing more of his weight into every swing. His defense mimics that of an armadillo, his armor taking the brunt of her attacks so that he can swing with his full force. Arya finds it increasingly more difficult to parry his blows as the force behind them increases beyond what she was expecting. The battle momentum switches to Eragon's favor as she finds herself having to dodge out of the way of his strikes because blocking them is making her arm go numb slightly. 

The match escalates in intensity as Eragon continues to tank Arya's fast attacks with his armor whilst dealing heavy blows when he can. The armor is protecting him from any fatal wounds but the skin underneath has begun to bruise and swell in multiple places, making him grit his teeth in pain with every movement.

After having to block a particularly powerful blow, Arya leaps back to try to catch her breath. Eragon doesn't let up as he dashes forward and stomps the ground in front of her and swings his sword upwards, jumping as he swings to add extra momentum. Arya was just able to get her blade up in time to block the swing but the power behind the attack is too much for her to handle and her blade leaves her grasp and flies into the air. She stumbles and falls backwards onto the hard earth. 

Eragon would have marveled at his victory if he didn't notice Arya's sword falling towards the defenseless elf. Without thinking, Eragon dives forward and covers her body, the sword hitting him in the back. Luckily the blade was sideways so it just smacked into his armor, giving him a large bruise at best. 

Eragon winces in pain before looking down at Arya with worry in his eyes. Arya lays there, staring into his eyes and panting from over exertion as their match had taken over twenty minutes to complete, the sweat on their bodies glistening in the morning light. Eragon, realizing the position they are in, quickly stands up and brushes some dirt off his cuirass. He then leans over and offers his hand to her. 

"That was a good match, Arya. Now we are even." 

Arya stares at his hand for a few moments before grabbing it and hoisting herself up with his help. The crowd that had gathered began to cheer loudly, the duel having attracted over a hundred people. Eragon waves to the crowd before looking back at Arya who is just standing there in a daze. Seeing her like this, Eragon's brow furrows slightly before realizing something and turning to the crowd. 

"This duel is over proud warriors. Please, return to your training. The bastard king will feel the might of our steel in due time." 

The crowd cheers from his speech before dispersing. Eragon walks up to Arya and looks into her eyes.

"Are you alright Arya? Did I cause any lasting damage?" 

Arya shakes her head before looking up at him then quickly lowering her gaze. "I am fine, Eragon. You have improved vastly in these last few months. I no longer have any doubt that you will be the linchpin in ending Galbatorix's reign of tyranny. Now please excuse me as I must rest." 

Arya swiftly walks away while Eragon tilts his head to the side. "There is no way…" he thinks to himself. 

…

(Arya POV) 

Arya leaves the training field and heads back to her room. After shutting the door she leans against the wall and slowly slides down till she is sitting on the floor. Her cheeks are flushed and her mind is in total disarray. 

"What was that? My heart skipped a beat and all I could think about in that moment was nestling into his embrace, taking in the warmth of his body." 

Arya takes a few deep breaths before shakily getting up and splashing her face with water. "There is no way that I have fallen in love with him. I am over one hundred years old and he has only just started adulthood… I will need time alone to think about this. I will leave for Ellesmera on the marrow." 

Having sufficiently calmed down, the fatigue of their fight claims her consciousness and she passes out in her bed.