reversed life

34/35

Chapter 34
And so here is the next chapter! You know I've been doing really well with updates, I'm kind of proud of myself. Anyways, I already have two more chapters finished but I'm going to give it some time before I update those. Or maybe I'll update one later today or tomorrow? Who knows? Oh, and I was listening to this song by Three Doors Down called Let Me Go and I feel that it explains Eragon's feelings to Arya in the first two books of Inheritance. He loves her but doesn't actually know her well enough...It was a good song. And I'm rereading the cycle again, just to remember the good times...It was a fun run, I have to admit. I'm glad I read it eight years ago, it was like growing up in a magicial world like Harry Potter. Speaking of which does anyone know any good fiction series out there? I need another good read with Inheritance, the Harry Potter Series, and the Hunger Games over. Anyways, I'm ranting, have fun reading! :)

The following morning, they flew straight to Aberon, the capital of Surda guided by Arya for she knew the way seeing that she'd occasionally visited the city during her time as ambassador to her mother. They hadn't slept since her rather bold confession to Eragon. But she had her reasons for doing so for her doubts about his illness was only hardened by what Master Oromis and Glaedr had told Eragon before he'd left. To guard his heart. And from the connection she made when she saw the research he was doing that was all related to the topic of the soul as well as his own statement to her that night of the Agaeti Blodhren. I'm afraid only half of my heart is in this decision. And she was right despite the fact that she wished that she wasn't. Eragon's soul was stolen from him, taken by Galbatorix and without it he would die. The thought of it made a chill run the length of her body.

She found herself often glancing at Eragon who was sitting atop Saphira at ease despite the thousands of feet they flew above ground. Ever since the Agaeti Blodhren, she'd found herself facing a new Eragon in appearance and voice but that was the only thing different about him. Everything else was the same when she'd first met him. Subconsciously rubbing the scales on Eridor's neck, she thought about his reaction last night to her words. Utter shock and astonishment. Even Eridor was surprised by the turn of events but he had approved of Eragon without hesitation and Saphira seemed rather ecstatic. But what seemed to change the most between them was the knowledge of what one felt for the other. He had not turned away from her last night in the lake but stood his ground and returned her caresses and kisses. And it wasn't until quite a moment after did she pull away to suggest returning to dry ground for the chilled water ate away at her bones.

She caught his brown eyes as he flew to her left, he favored her a small smile that she returned in kind. But before she could turn away, her gaze lingered a little longer on his right eye.

It was late afternoon when they arrived at Aberon, a low, walled city centered around a bluff in an otherwise flat landscape. Borromeo Castle occupied the top of the bluff. The rambling citadel was protected by three concentric layers of walls, numerous towers, and to her distaste, hundreds of ballistae for shooting down dragons. As they descended downward to the inner ward of the castle, she could see the alarm rising in the people. The sight of two dragons must have unsettled them greatly. The horses tethered in the yard didn't neigh in an uproar like she'd thought. She turned to Eragon to find him dismounting from Saphira without a care in the world. It must be his doing. She followed suit.

Eragon with a show of grace an ease sidled up next to her. "It would be a sad sight when they realize how ineffective their ballistae would be against foes such as us."

His statement amused her greatly and she was about to reply before a company of twelve men, some soldiers, hurried out of the keep towards them. They were led by a tall man with the same dark skin as Nasuada. Halting ten paces away, the man bowed—as did his followers—then said, "Welcome Riders, I am Dahwar, son of Kedar. I am King Orrin's seneschal."