Nightmare's tentacles twitched angrily as he paced back and forth. Eragon was feverish, flinching constantly in his semi-conscious state. There was some sort of awful magic in Durza's blade that made the angry scar refuse to heal. In fact, it had reacted much like Error to any healing magic. It rejected it.
Sinead was sitting quietly in a chair, watching as Eragon whimpered from the bed. Nightmare paused briefly to glare at her.
"His mind is in pain." She said simply.
"You think I don't know that?" He snapped. She scowled. "Then do something, Alalëa."
"He is blocking all from his mind."
"Then force your way in; don't let him stew until madness. He is in undue agony. You can change that."
Eragon twitched violently on the mattress.
Nightmare stared at the flame woman, wishing he could comprehend her. "Well? Will you protect your Rider?" She questioned, eyeing him. The King of Negativity growled, roughly shoving aside Angela as she tried to administer medicine to Eragon's wound. "Hey! That's rude!" She complained hotly.
He grumbled, giving her a look before laying a tentacle across the Rider's burning forehead. He touched the scattered and raving mind and winced. Sinead was right; he should keep this from the boy. He forced himself deeper into the muddy consciousness, brushing aside the reflexive defenses as he witnessed what ailed Eragon.
Memories.
So many memories.
Manin.
Eragon was weakly fighting back against the glimpses of the Shade's life and madness. Nightmare took hold of the small, weak mind and pushed it away, feeling oddly protective. Eragon's consciousness reeled away from his in fear before dimly recognizing it.
I am here, human.
... N-Night.. Nightmare?
Yes.
He paused, sifting through the memories as he began sorting out what was Eragon's and what was Durza's. He felt a pang of regret as he realized he had done much of the same things in his own past, in his initial days of insanity.
He almost flicked over the unfamiliar strand of consciousness, assuming it was Saphira, until he realized it did not feel like her. Nightmare turned his attention to the foreign mind. It felt much like Arya, though older.
Who are you? He pulled it to Eragon's awareness, remaining calm as it radiated benevolence.
𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑.
He paused, sensing no deceit. Then he spoke without holding back his own power.
𝔄𝔫𝔡 𝔥𝔬𝔴 𝔡𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔥𝔢𝔩𝔭, Ä𝔩𝔣?
𝑻𝒐 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒆𝒍𝒅 𝑬𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒏'𝒔 𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒏. 𝑰 𝒂𝒔𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒆. 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒌.
𝔗𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔴𝔢 𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢. 𝔅𝔲𝔱 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔰𝔱, 𝔴𝔢 𝔪𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢, Ä𝔩𝔣.
There was a sigh from the other being. Nightmare promised his own name in return, and it was thankful.
𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝑶𝒔𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒐 𝑪𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒐𝒘ä, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑴𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑺𝒂𝒈𝒆. 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝑻𝒐𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒂 𝑰𝒌𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒌𝒂, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒊𝒔 𝑾𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆. 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝑰 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆.
𝔙𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔩. ℑ 𝔞𝔪 Ä𝔣𝔡𝔯𝔞𝔲𝔪𝔯, 𝔑𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔢, 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔞𝔯𝔤𝔢𝔱 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔴𝔢𝔯𝔳𝔞 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔟𝔞𝔩𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢. ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔶 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔶 𝔭𝔢𝔬𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 ℑ 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔞𝔨 𝔞𝔰 𝔢𝔮𝔲𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔶 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔪 𝔞𝔰 ℑ 𝔠𝔞𝔫. ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔏𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔬𝔣 𝔇𝔞𝔯𝔨𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰, 𝔊𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔡𝔦𝔞𝔫 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔣 𝔑𝔢𝔤𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔳𝔦𝔱𝔶. ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔥𝔞𝔩𝔡𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔥𝔧𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔞, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔢𝔱 𝔄𝔩𝔞𝔤𝔞ë𝔰𝔦𝔞 𝔟𝔞𝔠𝔨 𝔱𝔬 𝔢𝔮𝔲𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔟𝔯𝔦𝔲𝔪. 𝔗𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔭𝔢𝔬𝔭𝔩𝔢 𝔪𝔞𝔶 𝔠𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔪𝔢 𝔄𝔩𝔞𝔩ë𝔞.
Sadness danced through the amber chords in the other's mind.
𝑰 𝒔𝒆𝒆. 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒆, 𝑶 𝑨𝒍𝒂𝒍ë𝒂. 𝑽𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒄 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒘. 𝑰 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒊𝒏 𝑬𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒎é𝒓𝒂. 𝑫𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒅𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒚 𝒐𝒓 𝒊𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒔𝒐𝒐𝒏 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆.
But.. Eragon interrupted their conversation. How can we find you if we don't know where you are?
YOU ARE READING
Andlátkyn; Vandr Sanses unin Alagaësia
Fanfiction(Title = Skeletons; Bad Sanses in Alagaësia) Error, the evil gang, and Blueberry were minding their own business in Outertale when Ink appears, alone. He decides to get rid of them, throwing them into the Void without second thought. When they awak...
