INHERITANCE: Memorandum Of Scales

THE IMMORTAL KING

                             ERAGON

Galbatorix sat on his high throne, his chin resting on a curled fist. Beside him, a young boy stood as still as a stone while holding a platter which, in itself, held a goblet filled with fine wine. Galbatorix could hear the boy quivering, fear and tired muscles causing him to stir. The King of Alagaesia glanced over at the boy, who immediately straightened up.

"At ease. You've been standing there all day." Galbatorix said with a sigh, waving the boy off.

The boy nodded gratefully and slowly left the throne room, making sure he did not spill his expensive cargo on the even more expensive red carpet. Two armored guards opened doors for him- dual massive slabs of wood decorated with reliefs of Galbatorix's various military victories. As they opened, a dark figure strode in, walking past the boy like a shadowy ghost. The boy gasped and spilled his platter, the wine instantly soaked in by the rich carpet.

The figure paused, and then looked at the boy as he fell the ground, hopelessly trying to staunch the wine with his shirt. The man watched him for awhile, and then turned away, continuing his way to Galbatorix. The king nodded at the figure, also ignoring the boy as he dashed between closing doors.With a smile growing on his handsome face, Galbatorix raised his hand to the visitor.

"Ah, Morzan. Shall I summon the cooks? We should have a feast. It is not a regular event that one of my few forsworn visit me, especially in this time of tenuous peace. It seems we are only truly ever together between blades and blood." Galbatorix spoke easily, reclining in his chair.

Morzan approached the throne, bowing slightly, his long raven hair falling over his face. He wore dark armor, as ebony as the night sky, with layered spaulders covering his shoulders. A breastplate painted with rubescent hues  hugged his chest, accompanied by  similarly colored cuisess, greaves, and boots.

"The past years have treated me well, Galbatorix. But you know how I hate to visit you here, in this dreary place. After the loss of my two children." Morzan responded. Galbatorix frowned, understanding in his eyes.

"Rise, first of the Forsworn." Galbatorix said with true affection and care. Morzan did, his face still young as it was more than a hundred years ago.

"Where is Murtagh? It has been almost twenty years since I last saw him."

"Well- and away. He pokes around the southlands now, doing whatever he pleases. He wanted to train in a harsh environment to hone his skills in battle. I saw no reason to refuse the boy." Galbatorix said, his eyes leveling on Morzan's. Morzan's handsome face tightened.

"I assume you mean beyond Surda . . . the folk that live there are said to be in league with the Langfeld line." Morzan responded, but offered no more objection.

Galbatorix shrugged, and leaned back in his throne.

"What have you come here for?"
Morzan's face darkened.
"I request the Forsworn assemble. I have had a vision. Something threatens us- I do not yet know what."

"It will take time to summon the rest of the Forsworn. You are here, but that leaves five- five that need to be contacted by raven, ship, or horse. It will take weeks. Months, perhaps. Alagaesia is a large land." Galbatorix said, rising from his seat and stretching his limbs.

He too, was young, albeit with the face of a man nearing his middle thirties, not one in his twenties, like Morzan. Blonde hair fell from his head and tickled the nape of his neck, and the golden crown of the former king of Alagaesia pressed his hair around tanned temples. The crown still shone brilliantly as it had one hundred years ago, and even more endless millenniums before then.

"What could threaten us? The Elves have retreated into their lands. Durza controls the Urgal clans. Your precious Southlords are too busy fighting each other than they are to attack us, and the Dwarves are stuck in their mountains. We live in a time of peace." Galbatorix grinned at Morzan, but the man did not return the King's smile.

"Have my dreams ever been wrong? When I told you that Evander, King of the Elves, would die in battle against Alauinel despite his greater numbers, was it not true? that reality came to be in a dream, and now I speak of another darker future. There is something coming. It has not arrived yet- but it will soon." Morzan responded, his voice echoing in the empty hall. Galbatorix rolled his eyes and walked down the steps that led to his throne.

Dreams had plagued Morzan before. In the past, he had brutally beaten Murtagh and nearly killed his lover, Selena, in a fit of frightened rage. Galbatorix had to restrain him, and all Morzan could say was that the Prince was coming. The thought reminded Galbatorix of Caomhim, and then of the day Selena had died . . . fleeing Morzan's wroth. Galbatorix sobered at the memory, and settled his blue eyes on his old friend.

"Explain to me this dream, Morzan."

"A man. Well, not a man. A statue. It is comprised of many different metals, different colors. But it was in the form of a man. It glowed. And it came to a greater statue, one much larger than it, and struck it in the heel." Morzan said, his eyes closed.

"I hardly think-"

"There's more. The heel of the giant statue shatters. But as it does, it cuts the smaller one across the back, causing that Statue to crumble. But the giant figure, from this point on, breaks apart slowly, but surely. In this time, the defeated statue begins to reform. Eventually, the shape of the man returns, but the crack across the statue's back is never repaired. The larger statue, however, has degraded to a disgusting state. The giant statue attempts to rebuild itself, new metals mixing in with old stone. But the new metal doesn't fit, and the statue...which has never fully recovered...strikes the giant in the head, and this larger statue completely falls."

Galbatorix was silent for a moment, and then laughed quietly. "As I was saying, I hardly think this is of any concern."

"You're smart, Galbatorix. You know that this is a threat. Something we must address. Lest all of our sacrifices be in vain. Something is coming- something borne of our old enemies."

Galbatorix remembered the grief on Morzan's face seventeen years ago, when the seventh Forsworn, betrayer of the traitors, fled with Morzan's wife and their two newborn sons. Morzan in his rage killed Selena, still strapped to the betrayer's dragon. The betrayer, Caomhim himself tumbling into the mists of the mountains that waited below the skies, screaming as Morzan's two sons died with him.

"Caomhim's actions still haunt my mind. While I still believe your concerns are...unfounded, I will summon the Forsworn. It will be good to see the rest of them again. It has been...long." Galbatorix approached Morzan, clapping him on the shoulder of his armor.

"Shall I arrange a room for you? Perhaps a fair haired maiden?" Galbatorix smiled. Morzan shook his head.

"No...that will be unnecessary. Have you destroyed my study in the time that I was gone?"

Galbatorix shook his head incredulously.

"I will take my stay there then. I find books and maps more comforting than sheets and young virgins."

With that, Morzan turned, his cape flipping after him. The two doors slowly slid open, and then slammed shut, leaving Galbatorix in questioning silence. Even after one hundred and twenty years, he still did not fully know Morzan.

And he doubted he ever would.