Reversed Life (Eragon fanfic)

Finny

This isn't a chapter. I've decided that for every 100 reviews, I'm going to post some bonus stories of Eragon's servants. This one is about Finny and how he came to meet Eragon. They aren't going to be as long as regular chapters, just some insight of their lives. But I'm halfway done with the next regular chapter and it should be posted tomorrow or the day after. The next 100 reviews I do Bard's story and then Desdemona and Rosalie. :) Have fun reading this short chapter of Finny.

Just a little further . . . running up the spiraling stone steps, his mixture of orange and blonde hair stood out against the gray walls. When he reached the door, Finny threw it open, bathing himself in the sun's warm rays. The sky was cloudless and the sun high in the sky. Below in the garden, he could see Lady Selena tending to her roses. Desdemona was probably off cleaning somewhere in the castle and the last time he saw Rosalie that morning was in the banquet hall, filling out paperwork. Bard was in the kitchen cooking, Lord Gabranth was in his study, and Saphira was out hunting. He smiled at the thought of his young lord. It had been almost four years ago when they had first met.

The dungeons of Dras-Leona were damp and dark, with the sounds of mice scratching against the walls. He sat in the corner of a cell that was dimly lit by a candle high on the wall. The small window just barely allowed the sun's rays to reach through to his cell. Finny began to wish, as he stared at the small opening. Freedom. . .

He had been orphaned as a child. He never knew where his parents went when they had left him. Finny had lived on the streets and the dark alleys for most of his life, before he was made captive to a group of spellcasters. At the time, he had no idea what wanted from him. After some time, he heard from their conversations that they intended to build the ultimate weapon and that he was being used as a guinea pig to be experimented on. That was how he came to live in the dungeons. He did not know for how long he had been there, surviving on bread and cold stew, perhaps a year, maybe two? It was too long to keep track. The door opened, and he turned in his dirty clothes that could be mistaken for rags. Two people clothed in white robes stood in the doorway. He did not resist as they grabbed him by the wrists, dragging him to the room where they would experiment on him.

But today was different, he thought, as he lay on the table. Strapped with leather bonds, the familiar sense of fear overwhelmed him as he saw them reach for a vial of dark purple liquid. They were murmuring under their breath, with triumphant smiles stretched on their faces. With a knife, they carved a thin cut into his arm. He watched, his body trembling in fear, as the purple liquid fell onto the cut and was absorbed into his bloodstream. Finny felt a scream tear itself from his throat, as his arms began to burn with a pain that he had never known.

They repeated the same procedure with his legs and other arm, and the pain increased tenfold. Body writhing in agony, he thrashed his arms and legs about in their straps, surprised when the binding broke free. As he got up from the table, the hands that grappled for him were instantly tossed away. Finny watched as his captors were flung against the wall, their necks snapping.

Fear. It gripped him like ice. Not able to stand staring at the lifeless bodies, Finny turned and ran for the door, not bothering to open it as his body crashed through the wood. They had changed him, had made him into a monster. As he ran, he ignored the shouts of guards and maids through the keep. Outside, he wanted to be outside again!

Turning a corner, he let out a yell as he hit something. Losing his balance, Finny fell to the floor. Regaining his bearings, he glanced up to stare at whatever he had hit. It was a tall man, wrapped in black armor, a black cape tied around the base of his throat and a helm resting on his head, intricate horns curved outwards from each side. Surprise took control of Finny. I hit him, but he didn't fall. "Who are you? Why didn't you fall when I bumped into you?" asked Finny.

"I've heard of you." The tall man ignored his question as he started at Finny. "The boy those spellcasters wanted to turn into a weapon. It seems they have indeed given you the strength for it."

"Are you going to take me back?" he asked, feeling small. The armored man shook his head.

"If you are willing to work for me, I will hire you. You would be paid well."

Finny shook his head as he stood. He did not want money. "I don't care about gold. I just want to be outside. I don't want to be locked up forever."

The tall man was quiet for a moment, before nodding. "If it's freedom that you wish, then I shall grant it to you if you work for me, -?"

"Finny. My name's Finny."

"Do you agree then, Finny?"

"I do. Please, take me outside."

Finny sighed contentedly. And ever since, Lord Gabranth had kept to his word. He had granted Finny his freedom; in return Finny protected his mother. And while he stayed at the castle in Urû'baen, Finny had taken up the role as Lord Gabranth's gardener. He was quite awful at it, though his lordship never complained about his gardening skills. Nor did he complain much when, with Finny's strength, sections of the castle were destroyed with regularity. He was a kind lord . . . a lord that he would always serve faithfully.

Suddenly Saphira's large shape appeared in the sky and he grinned. He was free. Turning back towards the door, he ran back down the stairs, laughing and shouting at the top of his lungs. "Saphira's back, everyone!"