The Name of Names

𝔼𝕃𝔼𝕍𝔼ℕ

Ismira and Fenrir flew over the plains, with Dras'leona on the horizon. Nasuada had made it a priority to cleanse the city, but had failed in one aspect, that their religion still lived on in the form of Helgrind. The massive black building, soared into the sky, and filled it's viewed with a sense of awe and terror at the same moment.

Go towards there. Ismira said, sending him the image of Helgrind.

He nodded, and continued on towards it, changing his course only slightly to go towards it.

Helgrind seemed impregnable, and Ismira understood how Nasuada could not get rid of it, unless a powerful Rider came to do so. Instead, the Queen had placed guards there, and as they approached it now, Ismira noticed the guards currently releasing the slaves that had been tied to pillars.

We'll come back at nightfall. Ismira said, When we'll be less likely to be spotted. For now, find a good place to wait.

Fenrir acknowledged her, and then tilted his wings to come down onto the plains, behind a hill. Unknowingly, this was the exact same spot Roran and Eragon had camped, while waiting to invade Helgrind. Indeed, their purposes were very different in this aspect. One came to invade, and one came to learn.

Night came, and the guards posted a watch a good distance away from the seeming mountain. Ismira stood up, seeing the lights at the exterior of the building. They aren't trying to hide their presence. She commented.

They do not have to. This is a way they taunt the queen. She does not wish to send soldiers to their death inside a pitch black maze, and even if she was willing, what soldier would wish to? No, she would not force that upon them. Fenrir lifted his head as Ismira threw a black cloak around herself, flipping up the deep cowl.

You may stay here. I will go alone, but keep you informed on what is going on. Ismira said, adding at Fenrir's unspoken protest, You will be nearby if anything should go wrong. And I am able to take care of myself as well, you know. Ismira stroked Fenrir's black scales gently, feeling the texture beneath her fingertips.

I know. But if anything should go wrong, I will claw my way into that mountain.

Yah, I know you will. Ismira smiled and turned, strapping on the sword she had received on her sixteenth birthday from her uncle Eragon.

Moving silently as death itself, Ismira crept towards the entrance, placing herself just in front of it.

"I come to speak with the priests of Helgrind." Ismira spoke clearly and authoritatively, and a slithering voice answered her.

"Whattt do you wisssh?" it hissed, and Ismira gripped her sword loosely but ready to draw it at a moment's notice.

"Knowledge." she answered confidently, aware of Nasuada's guards awakening to hear the discourse of them.

Four men emerged from the darkness, disfigured and maimed. Some were missing ears, arms, or legs. But Ismira nearly choked when she came face to face with the human being on the stretcher being born by the four.

All of its limbs were gone, as well as one of its ears. Ismira flipped back her hood, watching the human carefully.

"You may enter. Although know this," it spoke, "You will be killed if there is any reason to."

Ismira nodded once, and followed them into the black mountain. They took twists and turns, and Ismira noted them down mentally as they made them, in order to remember her way out.

Finally, they entered a large room, which Ismira guessed was their sanctuary. The four men set the stretcher down on a pedestal, where it once again studied Ismira.

"The new Rider." he almost screamed the words, and the four men made to seize her.

"Jeirda." Ismira said effortlessly, and the four men's necks snapped simultaneously.

She felt a mind ready to attack, and went on the defense as she spoke aloud, "I wish to know something, and that is why I have come. And I believe you have the knowledge I seek."

"And that is?" the priest's eyes glittered black, waiting to attack mentally.

"Infinite power."

The priest's lips turned up in a thin smile, "I believe I know what you are referring to. But what would I get out of all of this? I could just kill you with my mind, and leave you here, lying dead." He ended with a threatening hiss.

"I may not be as easy to kill as you think." Ismira said simply, before adding, "But there is things I can promise you if I succeed."

His glittering black eyes waited for her to continue.

"I believe you know of Galbatorix? And how Eragon Shadeslayer slew him?" She continued without waiting for an answer, "I'm sure you will agree with me that Galbatorix had the matter in the right. Magic does need to be controlled by someone competent."

"And that someone you would like to be is yourself?" The priest said sardonically.

"I believe that is the wisest option. Who else sees the light? Who else understands the truth of the matter? No, they all do not." Ismira's green eyes flashed, "If I succeed, all of Alagaesia will be under my rule. And I will allow you to come out of hiding, as in the days of Galbatorix. With no guards freeing your sacrifices."

At the mention of the guards, the priest's eyes darkened with anger, "They steal away sacrifices meant for the gods, when they return." A slow smile spread across his face, "and they will return. We are sure of that." His attention seemed to return back to Ismira, "And if you succeed, you will grant this?"

Ismira inclined her head, "Yes."

"Swear it." The priest demanded, "in the ancient language."

Ismira thought about the wording for a moment before speaking, in the ancient language, "I, Ismira, will grant the priests of Helgrind the right to perform their rituals freely if I should gain Alagaesia."

"Good." The priest continued, "Now, for your knowledge, names hold more power than you know. True names, if found out by another person, hold complete dominion over the unfortunate person whose name was found.

"The gods whispered about Galbatorix finding a name. More powerful than just controlling one person. To control what empowers."

Ismira watched him carefully, thinking through as he continued.

"You do not understand, young Rider? Surely you have read hints of it. What many seek, but fail, or kill themselves in the process."

Ismira's mind thought quickly, considering all options. What empowers people... power itself, of course, but there was more to it. She considered herself. What brought her above the rest? What truly changed her? Her first thought was that Fenrir had hatched for her, but she thought back to before that. Magic.

Her eyes widened just a hair, and the priest smiling thinly, "I see you have struck on the core. What could be more powerful than the true name of power itself?"

"Do you know it?" Ismira asked, eager to learn where she could get the knowledge. If she learned this, anything would be possible. Complete control over magic itself. The possibilities were endless.

"No. But I have learned who does." The priest spoke quickly, "Murtagh, the son of Morzan the Forsworn knows it. As well as Eragon, his half-brother. I have seen and learned much, Rider. Now leave. And remember your oath."

Ismira turned, her cloak going out behind her as she left the sanctuary, stepping over the bodies of the men she had killed. She followed the turns she remembered, which lead her to the entrance, where she had come in by.

It was still night, and Ismira used the cover of darkness to return back to Fenrir, whose mental presence had been very low while she had been inside Helgrind, due to the distance.

His head lifted up when she came into sight, using his mind to make sure it was her.

How did it go? He asked, I could not feel your presence in there very well.

Ismira's lips turned up at one corner, It went well. Very well indeed.