INHERITANCE: Memorandum Of Scales

BLOODIED

Eragon grabbed the clasp of his borrowed cloak and pulled it closer to his neck, watching as a black plume of smoke slowly rose from a settlement across the shallow river.

He heard Brom walk up behind him, dressed in rich-looking furs that had small stains of blood on them. His large sword was strapped to his back, and his veined arm carried a large bag of borrowed meat and stale bread. Saphira raised her head and sniffed the air,  looking at Eragon with solemn eyes.

Another village massacred She said.

Eragon turned from Brom, pulling his hood over his head as icy rain began to fall like cold shards of glass. The river passed by silently, crawling over smooth rocks with nearly no sound. Wind came through, rustling the skeletal limbs of trees and shaking half-frozen snow off the branches. Brom lumbered next to him, his beard covered in frost, wet with rain and quickly freezing.

"Well, let's have a look. If we're lucky, this village will be the same as the last." He said, dropping the leather bag by Eragon's feet and splashing into the river, easily crossing it as his boots cracked portions of water that were somewhat frozen.

Eragon hesitated, causing Brom to turn and look at him with an annoyed glance.

"This doesn't feel right." Eragon said finally.

"Fine. Freeze." Brom said, continuing without him. Eragon shuddered, and looked at Saphira.

"Stay here." He said, causing her to protest.
I want to see the village! I want-

"It's too dangerous . . . if anyone were to see you . . . just stay here, please." Eragon asked. Saphira lowered her wings in relent, slinking back into the woods that hugged the river while her scales were glossed with falling water. Eragon skipped across the river, freezing liquid sneaking into his leather boots. He placed his hand on a plain iron sword which Brom had insisted he loot from the previous village they had come across.

The land was but kissed by winter, a light embrace. However, cold truly did rule here, and while there was little snow, gusts of wind sent chattering chills through his body. Leafless trees marched ahead of Eragon while Brom carried on, hunched over between the tall guardians, long dead until summer. The eye of his hilt swayed, and Eragon again felt mesmerized by the weapon.

The town was unguarded by wall or watchtower, the buildings mixed with the wood, no separation between the two. Eragon crunched as he walked, stepping on icy ground and leaves hardened by cold. He pulled his hood closer to his ears and continued on, snot dripping from his nose. He finally caught up to Brom, the man standing outside the first building that they came across, still smoldering, a fire slowly dying on the thatched roof.

"Wait here," Brom ordered, stepping inside. Eragon waited, the rain growing heavier as it began to seep through even his cloak and touch his skin. He placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, and nearly recoiled at the freezing touch of it. He curled his fingers around it instead, allowing his palm to grow numb as Brom searched inside the house. The man appeared outside the house's front door, a half brunt loaf of bread under his arm. He took it in both of his hands, breaking it in two, throwing a portion of it towards Eragon.

The boy caught it, taking a bite as the bread itself was softened by the rain. He sucked at the liquid greedily, sating his thirst and his hunger.

"Come on," Brom said.
He re-positioned his sword, walking deeper into the town. Trees seemed to curl over the various buildings, and as such they had been touched by the fire that swayed in the wind.

The flame hummed disarmingly  as it burned the long barren branches of trees.

Eragon followed Brom house-to-house, eating whatever they found and saving other foodstuffs in an empty bag that had once been used to carry potatoes. Bodies laid everywhere, brutally savaged. Eragon stepped over them, their eyes still open as blood pooled beneath their corpses. Brom seemed unaffected by them, but Eragon could not stop staring at the bodies as he followed the man. There were men . . . women . . . and even children. Some lacked limbs and heads, torsos ripped open and mutilated.