Creation: The Primordial Era (Creation Series, Book 2)

If Only We Met Sooner

Eragon's POV

The castle, the throne, even the room that I lie in. None of it was meant for me but here I am, waking up only to wander and think to myself at how different things should of been. I've been wishing for something for quite sometime, something that not just anyone can give me nor can I give to myself.

But as I pick up a simple comb, I can't help but shake in...excitement? Fear? Whatever it may be, I want more, more of whatever that man made me feel in that moment. I secluded us in this land in order for me to think for myself, giving me more time to discover Aluca's whereabouts but I would know better than anyone else...she's no longer within my grasp and she hasn't been for quite some time. With her blood running through me, I can tell there's a spark of life somewhere, albeit faint and near undetectable...she is there.

My only hope was finding Adam, and so Mael stayed behind in an attempt to discover what he could. Keeping both a watchful eye on him and Aluca. And yet...not a single memory he had was relating to them. He was there for years, waiting and manipulating people into feeding him so he could barely survive. But every time he emerged from that dark space, he passed through something that blurred his goal, forcing him into a cycle of pure survival as he'd forgotten himself through the passing time.

My poor older brother who made his own choices in favour of his people, left to rot and slave away at the subjugation of another that came far before our time.

"Eragon?" Ira's voice calls through the door.

"Come in" I respond without turning around, instead continuing to face a mirror as I talk to him through the reflection.

"You wanted to see me, right?" He asks, keeping his posture tight to himself out of respect, as always.

"What do you think of me, Ira?" I ask honestly.

His lips move a little bit as his heart rate jumps, an obvious struggle that makes me laugh inside. This man that has the last of my brother's blood running through him, an abnormal turning that should never of occurred. "Sit" I gently kick one of the chairs to him and despite the reluctance, he sits for me.

I stand over him, looking down until eventually sitting just across from him on my bed. "How about another question, what do you think of Oracion?" I ask.

His face brightens even despite the sleepless bags under his eyes, "Brave, annoying, reliable, childish...a brother I guess?" He laughs for the first time.

"Half of those were insults." I respond, noticing how easy it was for him to reminisce about him.

He looks away at the realisation but I click my fingers, wanting him to stay focused on me. "What's your oldest memory with him?" I lean closer.

He begins thinking, moving his eyes around the room as he questions himself. "I-...don't remember? Maybe back when he was first starting to help around the Veil?"

He said that last time.

"Because you had these things you called Shadows appearing from it, correct?" I want to confirm.

"Yeah, he'd help to reduce their numbers and what not. He was doing that for far longer than the rest of us so it's only natural he'd know his way around a sword." He speaks, "Even though he kept breaking them." He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Who would keep making him weapons just for him to break them?" I ask.

"His brother, Aeron." He answers quickly, only making me question more and more.

"Blood related?" I question but he sort of tilts his head to the side as if not expecting it.

"Of course? He's always been beside Oracion, and they're similar in both personality and looks."