Chapter One: Promises

Eragon woke from his trance like state that had replaced his sleeping since his transformation. He peeked out of his tent to see the dawn breaking. From the view on the Burning Planes, it was a beautiful sight to offset the day before’s tragedy. His memories flowed back to him: His father was Morzan, he had lost against Murtagh, but the Varden had one a battle against the empire, he had been reunited with Roran, and he had fixed his friendship with Arya. He stepped out of his tent, and surveyed his surroundings. So many people died because of two people: my father and Galbatorix, Eragon thought to himself, disgusted with the very thought. Ever since Murtagh had told him they were brothers, and his father was actually Morzan, he had been racked with disgust for his new found identity. I was sired by a monster! He said to Saphira.

No Eragon, he is merely your parent, but as you said, Garrow was your true father. He taught you how to live with dignity, honor, and integrity. Is that not what matters? You are not your father, nor will you ever be. Do not despair, no one’s opinion has changed about you, not even mine, Saphira replied comfortingly.

Jarsha ran up to him, and bowed saying, “Sir, Lady Nasuada would like to see you in her tent immediately.”

“Of course, thank you Jarsha, you may go,” said Eragon. Jarsha bowed again, and rushed away to do yet another errand. Ready? he asked Saphira.

Of course, she answered, and they continued towards Nasuada’s tent.

“Ah, Eragon, there you are, Arya and I have been waiting for you,” she said as he entered her tent. Eragon noticed Arya sitting in the back, cross legged, as always, with Nasuada standing in front of her chair.

“At your service,” he said, “And what have you been waiting for me for, if I might ask?”

Arya answered this time, “We want to know what you plan on doing. Will you return to finish your training, or will you go with your cousin to save his love, Eragon-elda?” Her piercing green eyes stared into his with an intensity that no elf rivaled. He held her gaze for a moment, but then looked down, as if to think.

“I…” he hesitated, and then said, “I will save Katrina, and then return to Master Oromis as to finish my training, of course, if you,” indicating Nasuada, “will approve.”

“Unfortunately, I do not. I cannot let you tarry about in Helgrind to save Roran’s beloved. Its too dangerous, and you must complete your training. You are our only hope now Eragon, and there is little time. With two riders, defeating Galbatorix and the Empire will be twice as difficult then before. Our only hope is that you can learn enough, and become strong enough to defeat both of them.” Nasuada sighed, obviously depressed. Her attempt to conceal her fear ultimately failed, as Eragon’s new perception of things was very in tune to the slightest change.

“You would deny help to Roran, when you owe him for killing the twins?” inquired Eragon, stunned.

“No Eragon,” replied Arya, “She does not deny him help from the Varden, only yours. More than one life is at stake if you stay too long within the Empire.”

Eragon couldn’t believe it. They would condemn Katrina to death, and it was his fault she had been captured. “I am sorry, but I must do the right thing. Katrina is my mistake, and I must fix it, but for the moment, I will attend to Elva.” After finishing, he left the tent before anyone could reply, but he heard Nasuada shout after him.

Saphira and Eragon arrived at Elva’s tent, ready to lift his dreadful deed. Now or never, Eragon surmised.

So it would seem. You must fulfill your promise, Eragon.

Aye, and I will.

“Ah, Eragon,” greeted Elva, her disturbing gaze upon him, “Have you come to fulfill your promise?”

“Indeed I have." He said a phrase in the Ancient Language, and watched as Elva fell to the floor, not in pain, she had just passed out. Eragon panted for breath as the spell’s required energy took its toll. Saphira strengthened him with her energy, and he regained his composure. He saw Angela observing him, and said, “It is done. She should be fine now, though her experience and knowledge shall be forever engraved into her soul.”

Eragon looked down at the poor, innocent child, his mistake and his shame. He looked away angrily. Even though it was fixed, his abomination was etched into his soul, and he wondered again, Is someone truly good if they have never been given the choice to act badly? Having a destiny thrust upon you is like being enslaved. What have I done…What have I become?

At least, said Saphira, You have fulfilled most of your promises.