When Destiny Burns, Ep. 2 A Halo and Inheritance Cycle Crossover [Discontinued]

Chapter 18.2 Narrow views pt. 2

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The first sign of the new morning was the fact that a single beam of light had managed to find its way past the membrane that usually covered the window, shining right and unopposed into the room. The first sign to Maine that he wasn't wearing his armor was that the single beam of light didn't stop at shining into the room, but kept on going and ended right into his face. Normally, his visor would automatically polarize to compensate for the sudden light. But his helmet was neatly folded on top of his suit, which in turn was stacked away in a corner where it could be spotted from the bed immediately. Protected by several spells called 'wards', nobody could see it unless they were specifically observing it from the Spartan's bed, as he had enchanted the air around it to deflect the rays of light that would have otherwise revealed the set of armor. Even if one were to sense the magic and remove the spell, nobody could touch it without getting harmed in the process. Still, his suit couldn't do anything for him if he wasn't wearing it and soon, the light in his face became unbearable.

Maine sighed and swung his legs out of the bed. He had grown so accustomed to sleeping in his suit that he hadn't even felt the difference...until he had been woken up by a stray ray of light, that is.

...light? He never woke up because of light. Why would he wake up because of light now?

...it was probably late in the morning.

Maine marched to the window, yanked the thin membrane aside and spotted the sun hanging over the treeline. He had slept in! Foolishness; he never slept in! It had to be because he had taken his armor off, that was it. But...that would insinuate that he had slept better than before, right? That in turn would insinuate that he didn't sleep well inside of his armor. And that was...well, actually pretty close to the truth...

He sighed and burrowed his face in his arms. His head was throbbing, he felt unnaturally warm and his knees were trembling. Had he caught a local disease or something? He should be going to Oromis to have that little testing, but...he didn't really feel like doing that. He felt restless and he yearned for action; to finally be able to fight something again, moving his limbs with the intent to kill and maim.

Sparring was one option, but Vanir and the other younger elves would most likely die in a duel, even though he had taken his suit off now. Wait a minute, what was he thinking? He didn't want one single elf except for Oromis to seem him without his MJOLNIR!

But...how was he going to work the restlessness and aggression out of his body if he couldn't spar with anyone? The last time he had felt as he felt now, it had cultivated in his desire to murder every living being around him. If he got such a fit in here, in Ellesméra? He wouldn't be able to control himself like he had before. Only because he had actually liked a person in the group he was traveling with had he been able to alert Aeraleth in time. But here? He didn't respect anyone; he didn't like anyone, and he didn't think of anyone as a capable warrior. Disgusting lack of discipline it might be, but it would most likely result in the death of at least four elves if he couldn't think of a reason to hold back.

He took a deep breath and focused. Sparring...Eragon was human and thus easily beaten. No challenge. Vanir was young, lacking in technique and an asshole. No challenge. Oromis was old, but also seeking to measure his limits. No fight. That left either Arya or one of the other elder elves, but Arya was a princess. And Eragon's escort. No way that he was going to challenge her to a match...and no way that he was going to be naked in front of her.

...damn he felt naked. Riding Aeraleth was one thing, but fighting an elf was a completely different thing. He just didn't trust the other elves enough for them to be a proper sparring partner. What should he do?

Daenlith. She lived rather reclusively, was an aged and experienced fighter and trustable enough to appear naked in front of.

...that phrase went somewhere wrong...oh well. Sparring with Daenlith would actually be a perfect way to get rid of his pent-up frustrations and restlessness and if she was good enough, it might actually enable him to learn something.