Eragon Rewritten

Chapter 2

Eragon was in the middle of a familiar patch of trees on the edge of Du Weldenvarden. Why it was familiar, he did not know until he saw the three pure white Elven steeds.

On the first horse was an elf with pointed ears and elegantly slanted eyebrows. Her build was slim but strong, like a rapier. A powerful bow was slung on her back. A sword pressed against her side opposite a quiver of arrows fletched with swan feathers.

The last rider had the same fair face and angled features as the other. He carried a long spear in his right hand and a white dagger at his belt. A helm of extraordinary craftsmanship, wrought with amber and gold, rested on his head.

Between these two rode a raven-haired elf man, Eragon himself, who surveyed his surroundings with poise. Framed by short black locks, his deep blue eyes shone with a driving force. At his side was a blue sword, and on his back a long bow with a quiver. Eragon carried in his lap a pouch that he frequently looked at, as if to reassure himself that it was still there.

“The egg.” Eragon thought.

Eragon moved towards the riders, knowing this was a dream and he would not be able to interact with them in any way but needing to get closer. For her. Faelwen. It felt like it had been a lifetime since he had seen her. As he drew near her horse he let his eyes roam her face. Her silver eyes flashed in the moonlight. Her dark hair hung around her heart shaped face exactly as it had that night. A stab of pain began in his heart, and shot through his veins.

“Faelwen. I miss you so much.” He whispered as she passed him by. He knew what was coming next. The ambush. He could not watch again as she fell. He could not watch again as his best friend, Glenwing, fell. He woke as he saw from the corner of his eye the flash of blue signaling he had sent the egg away.

Eragon laid there, willing the tears away. He had sworn that night that he would make Durza pay for what he took from him. Speaking of Durza, Eragon could hear him down the hall talking to someone, probably a soldier of the Empire. The shade’s voice drew closer to Eragon’s cell.

“Well, hello again Eragon. Are you ready to divulge your secrets to me today? To tell me where you sent that blasted egg?” Durza’s voice was sickly sweet like he was trying to play nice. Ha! As if a shade could ever be anything other than evil, especially one who works for the black king.

The shade’s words did give Eragon a small piece of hope though. He had obviously sent the egg somewhere safe, or at least somewhere that the king could not find it.

“Never.” Eragon replied.

“Fine. I’ll just have to force it out of you.” Durza flashed his pointed teeth in an imitation of a smile.

“What makes you think today is going to be any different than any other day?” Eragon sneered, before the shade backhanded him across the face. He could taste the blood welling up in his mouth, before he spit at Durza’s feet.

“Let’s go, boy. I have a lot of fun planned for us today.”

Eragon’s resolve never wavered as he was tortured within an inch of his life, only to be healed, and the torture to begin anew. It went on like this for hours upon hours. The shade getting more and more desperate as Eragon refused to answer the questions he asked, as he blocked all mental attacks with Faelwen’s face. There was a commotion upstairs in the cells.

“Take him back to his cell. It seems as if we have another joining us today.” Durza was frustrated with his lack of progress, and you could hear the anger in his voice as he disappeared upstairs.

“I wonder who the new prisoner is.” Eragon thought as the guards dragged him back to his cell from the dungeon his tortures took place in.

As he passed a cell that had been empty until just now, Eragon felt a familiar presence watching him but for the life of him he could not figure out why it was familiar. He turned his head to see if he could catch a glimpse of the person watching him, and his bright blue eyes alighted upon eyes so dark they were almost black set in a feminine heart shaped face. Long chestnut hair framed the pale face of the young girl, who looked no older than sixteen years of age. Young even by human standards. Surprise flitted across the humans face as she took in his elven appearance. Then, they could no longer see each other as Eragon was taken to his cell.