INHERITANCE: Memorandum Of Scales

ERAGON'S FATHER

ERAGON

THE boy knelt by a slowly churning stream. He watched the water impassively as it snaked along. Crystal-like fish swam gracefully ahead, flapping luminescent fins against the current.

"Brom told me about him."

Arya?

The Elf lightly stepped beside him. She was taller, stood straighter. Her arms were stronger as well, honed from decades of training.

Her beauty was truly timeless.

"Garrow.." Eragon closed his eyes, Garrow's face churning within a vortex of sunken dread.

Garrow.

"I am not going to waste time telling you that I know what it's like." Arya said matter-of-factly.

"The pain is immense. It will consume you for some time." She spoke somberly, poking her nose out as she stared ahead.

"It's a pain I know well. It's second only to one greater suffering I've experienced."

Arya turned then, looking at Eragon, eyes like sparkling daggers.

"What?" Eragon asked, entranced.

"The smell you blessed me with on the night we first met." She answered, stone faced.

A murkgoose called in the distance.

Is she..? Eragon's face fell into confusion as Arya looked at the boy plaintively.

"Brom had said to try...joking." She tapped him on the shoulder.

"You thought that was funny, no? Brom didn't laugh but he had said it was.." she stared off in the distance then, and Eragon could almost see her brain picturing the man as he brushed her off.

A small laugh graced Eragon then. He shook his head as Arya turned her attention to the fields across the stream, glowing in the morning sun.

"I'm sorry about your father. Evander." Eragon's eyes darted towards Arya, crossing her features before meeting the stream once more.

"He died before I was born. His life is my tragedy to bear, but you were raised by your father. Do not waste your pity on me."

Despite the harshness of her words, Eragon could tell Arya was trying to comfort him. He knew that he was visibly shaken.

He wasn't surprised even the usually aloof Arya came to him. It wasn't only the fact that Garrow died.. it was...

The images of dying men flashed before his eyes. Blood sputtered from rent limbs, torn free by the Ra'zac. He felt his own fear as his shield was beat upon. He remembered the slime of Ra'zac blood as it wept down his cheeks.

Brom was right- Arya carried herself with an ancient appraisal of all things despite her youth. But she was still young for her kind. No doubt she had fared few battles as pitched as this one.

"No pity wasted," Eragon smirked, saluting her with two fingers.

"It's time to continue." Aerion's voice broke into the morning air between Eragon and Arya.

The boy turned to see the Pike trotting from a nearby outpost, astride a horse. Behind him Brom followed between feathery curved hills, two more horses anchored to him.

Their own mounts had fled in the melee. The surviving soldiers demanded to be left at the outpost, leaving Aerion alone to lead Eragon's party.

Arya and the boy mounted. The group galloped against the rising sun, air kissing Eragon's cheeks as he rode.

What did Arya speak to you about? Saphira asked as she flew above.

She.. came to cheer me up, surprisingly. Eragon's voice echoed within their shared mind.

She's pretty.

Eragon reddened.

She could also kill me. He responded. Saphira laughed as she leapt through low flying clouds.

They were headed towards the last human cities. Founded not long after the First Men arrived, Pulin existed on the edge and grace of Dwarib land.

The Dwarves were the de-facto rules of Pulin. Aerion told them that they had even installed a gate that tumbled through the city, leading to the Dwarven realm below.

It was there that he would meet Orrin. He set his jaw, trying to imagine the confidence he would need to summon in order to meet with a King.

It'll be alright, Saphira said suddenly.

Eragon's body warmed.

You'll be sure to fry him if he gets out of line.

Maybe. Depending on your behavior up until then. Saphira said with a hearty laugh.

They came across a massive wall that curled in the far distance. Flat plains continued ahead of them, golden brown in the light of the sun. The wall seemed to stretch nearly as high as the sky itself.

"The Walls of Pulin" Aerion said as he urged his horse ahead of the party, whipping slick reigns.

"Impressive that mundane mortals could construct this.." Arya marveled.

Brom rode beside Eragon as their horses found a cobbled road. It was empty but well made. The path glowed in the light of the sun, leading all the way to Pulin's gates.

"Eragon. Tell Saphira to come down." The man instructed.

I heard you. She answered. Eragon's dragon alighted onto the ground beside them, walking ahead as she sniffed at the air, investigating the smells of Pulin.

"Thanks for having her talk to me." Eragon said.

Brom smirked, a rare sight.

"I figured better her than a scarred face like me." He answered.

"Eragon," Brom spoke hard suddenly, catching the boy off guard.

"I'm sorry." He said.

Eragon was bewildered.

"Sorry?" He exclaimed.

"I didn't train you as hard as I should have. You weren't prepared for what you faced, and you aren't prepared for what you will continually face. What I've done to you.."

Brom looked away from Eragon.

"Brom.." the boy began. He had no idea Brom felt this deeply about him. Brom had no doubt felt guilty- he came from nowhere and after his arrival, Eragon's town was razed.

Eragon was forced to see Garrow animated as a foul Ra'zac.

"It's.. I'm okay. The pain is there, that's true. But.. if you hadn't come I would've died in Carvahall. And if you hadn't taught me I would've died against the Ra'zac. You saved me, Brom." Eragon smiled deeply at the man.

Brom looked at him with watery eyes.

"You're just a boy, Eragon. Don't forget that."

They rode in silence until they reached the gates.