Death's Daughter (An Inheritance Cycle Fanfiction)

Leave Taking

"Do you think they'll make it back?" Eragon whispered to Arya where they stood in the corner of the spacious room. He was referring to Vala and Adric, but Murtagh had not told them of the deal he'd struck with Lady Death. How could he explain to them that he was able to see the goddess of death, and had haggled with her for the life of his love?

"We can only hope," the elf queen replied. "There's no way to know how much longer she'll last, but they need to be back soon if they wish to see her."

"Murtagh sent Thorn after them, to hurry them back. He seems to think she won't last the night." The Red Rider sat stooped over the bed, his face buried in his hands. The other people in the room didn't want to disturb him, so they kept their voices low. The dark-haired witch stood on the other side of the bed, her brow furrowed in worry. She knew that Lady Death was not here right now, but she would be here soon. The sun hung in the middle of the sky; it would only be a few hours until sunset, and then she would return. Elva chewed on her bottom lip nervously, and her hands were trembling. After a lifetime of protecting the queen, she did not like feeling so helpless in the face of an unbeatable foe. Nasuada looked up at Elva wearily and extended a gnarled hand.

"Do not weep for me, Elva," she said hoarsely. The witch looked at her sorrowfully, a tear rolling down her porcelain cheek. "You have served me well, and I know you will continue to protect my line until the end of your days." Elva nodded weakly and squeezed her hand.

"Yes, my lady," she whispered. Nasuada turned to Murtagh and stroked his hair, causing him to look up at her. His fierce, grey eyes were ringed with dark circles, completely bloodshot; his cheeks looked sunken in, and his face seemed to sag with the weight of his sorrow. The queen had never seen him this way. But she said nothing, wanting to save her strength until the very last moment.

Ajihad came and went a few times throughout the course of the day, checking in on his mother. He knew that a messenger would fetch him the moment things turned south, but it eased his mind to make sure everything was still alright. And all the while, Murtagh never left her side. Eragon and Arya too, stayed in the room. Elva left after another hour, unable to take the pain any longer. She had said her goodbyes, and she knew the queen would understand. It was time for the witch to let her go.

Out on the wide balcony, a green dragon and a blue dragon hovered in the air, watching through the wide windows to the scene inside. They were all extremely attached to the queen, and her loss would hit them hard. But whatever happened, they would have each other for consolation. Saphira groaned mournfully as the hours wore on, trying to lend her Rider some of her strength in his sadness. Eragon thanked her quietly, but mostly kept to himself. He and Arya exchanged a few words, but they continued to keep their eyes trained on the gilt-framed bed. The air became heavy with their silence, and Murtagh's heart beat faster and faster. Every few minutes or so, he would glance out to the balcony, to gauge the position of the sun in the sky. It was sinking lower, and his agitation was growing. Soon, Lady Death would return to claim his beloved, and there would be nothing he could do. And his children had still not returned. It was too late...

~*~

Lady Death strolled lazily down the cobblestoned streets of Illirea. Her scarlet cloak was clasped around her shoulders, as normal, but underneath she wore a light summer dress that came to her calves. Although the climate did not affect her in the way that it did humans, there was something about the spirit of summer that made her feel more carefree. Perhaps that is what prompted her to show leniency to the Rider; the summer air was going to her head. Her bare feet swept across the smooth stones of the street, and a warm breeze shifted her cloak about her.

It had been a relatively quiet day in the city. There was a young mother and baby that could not be saved by the midwives, and Lady Death had escorted them to the Land of Eternal Life that morning, but nothing more than that. Those were the hardest for her-to ferry the children out of this life before they'd even had a chance to begin theirs. The look on the father's face had been difficult to bear, but, as always, Lady Death did her duty in stoic silence. It was the only way to cope with the emotions of these humans.