Age of the Dragon 3: The Eye of the Storm

Chapter 4

Fang lifted her head as a sapphire dot appeared over the city. Fallyn stirred from where she sat meditating, turning her head towards where Saphira prepared to land, momentarily reminded of her namesake.

Once the dragon landed, Fallyn started with concern as Eragon fell from the saddle. Oromis helped the Rider to his feet, while Fallyn strode over to them. A welcome was spoken in the Ancient Language, and she chose to greet them in the tongue of the Elvhen.

"Andaran atish'an, lethallin, it is good to see you again," she murmured gently.

Eragon swayed for a moment, before he greeted them in the Ancient language, following the ancient ritual of the elves.

First, he greeted Oromis, then Glaedr, then herself, and lastly he greeted Fang.

However, Fallyn was concerned for Saphira, whose body trembled as if with cold and looked more like an abused cart horse than a mighty dragon.

Eragon tiredly explained the headwind they ran into while trying to make good time from Farthen Dûr but fell silent as Fang and Glaedr swung their large heads towards the tired youngling. Then they breathed out on her, flames flickering in the pits of their nostrils.

Fallyn sensed the slight dip in strength, as Fang gave some of her energy to the young dragon. Glaedr told Saphira where she would find the remains of his last hunt, and once she had made her way over to the remains, Fang resettled herself.

"Come," Oromis waved for Eragon to join himself and Fallyn at the table, which contained the standard fare of fruit and nuts, bread and cheese, and a decanter of wine with crystal goblets nearby.

Oromis offered Eragon a drink, which he gladly accepted, a silent thanks from Fallyn as she accepted hers. Eragon attempted to start his questions when Oromis insisted on waiting for Saphira to rejoin them.

After she returned, discussion began. Fallyn - as she always had - remained a silent observer of the proceedings. While Oromis explained all the things he'd been made aware of, thanks to Fang and Fallyn flying between Ellesméra and the forest edge.

And then Fallyn felt the air grow tense.

"It seems as if there is much you have not spoken of," Eragon placed a blueberry in the exact centre of the tray as he spoke with a quiet, but firm voice.

Fang's eye blinked with a slow snick before Glaedr spoke up.

"If you have a quarrel with us, Eragon," the great dragon rumbled, "then give voice to it and do not gnaw upon your anger like a dry old bone."

Saphira shifted, the faintest of growls escaping her.

"When I was last here, did you know who my father was?" Eragon asked.

"We did," Oromis nodded once.

"And did you know that Murtagh was my brother?"

"We did, but-"

"Then why didn't you tell me!" Eragon leapt to his feet and began to rant.

Through it all, Fallyn suspected that Eragon was mistaken. Clearly, he did not know who his father was.

"And you!" Fallyn lifted her chin slowly as she looked at him. "You knew! Why did you attack Murtagh the moment you met him... but..."

He growled in frustration, then turned back to her.

"Were you planning to have me and Saphira killed after our usefulness was at an end? So our father's villainy would end with us?" he accused.

Fang had enough - though Glaedr had been prepared to end it himself.

She lifted her head and snapped her jaws sharply before his face, causing him to stumble over backwards.

"You have given us no chance to speak or explain ourselves, hatchling," she growled. "Be still, and listen."

Saphira lifted her head tiredly.

"Tell him," she spoke with such distress that Fallyn sighed before glancing over at the Elders.

"Hahren?" she questioned.

The elf looked over at the irate Rider, who struggled to his feet after Fang and returned to resting her head on her forelegs.

"Sit," he said. When Eragon didn't move, the elf sighed. "I understand this is difficult for you, Eragon, but if you insist on asking questions and then refuse to listen to the answers, frustration will be your only reward. Now, please sit, so we can talk about this in a civilized manner."

Eragon glared, before righting his chair and dropping into it. "Why?" he demanded. "Why didn't you tell me that my father was Morzan, the First of the Forsworn?"

Fallyn chuckled, drawing a dark look from him.

"Eragon, recall that I said that Murtagh is the spitting image of his father?" at his nod, she continued. "So are you, the spitting image of your father. However, the resemblance between you and Murtagh are so slight, they can be overlooked."

"I... don't understand?"

"He is not your brother, but rather your half brother," Oromis clarified. "The two of you share a mother, but not your father."

"But... then who...?"

Oromis explained that none of them kept it from him on purpose - they had all made binding oaths to never reveal it or discuss it unless he discovered it on his own or if the truth would put his family in danger. The requirements had been met enough that they could now speak of it.

"Oromis-elda, Fallyn-svit-kona... if Murtagh is my half-brother, then who is my father?"

"Look into your heart, Eragon," Glaedr said. "You already know who he is, and you have known for a long time."

Eragon shook his head, begging the truth.

Fang gave a snort, smoke trailing from her nostrils. "You are so alike it's a wonder you don't realise it yourself. Eragon, your father is Brom."