Chapter Twelve: Forgotten Memories

“I see...So that is what a Blood-Oath really is,” Eragon thought out loud. Even though Oromis had just told him grim news, the meanings hadn't quite sunken in yet. However, he still couldn't believe it. Would Murtagh go so far? Eragon asked Saphira.

I do not know, Eragon. By killing you, he would be sparing himself the conscience of murderering countless people, but...I don't think he would Eragon, she replied thoughtfully.

There was a long pause between his master and himself. He couldn't help but wonder if his oath to Arya had been of the same intentions. “Eragon, I can see you have things on your mind. Go to the stump, and meditate...perhaps over time you can discover more about yourself as well,” Oromis suggested.

“Yes, Ebrithil,” he said distractedly. Oromis may have answered his questions, but it only had disturbed Eragon even more. "Galbatorix...," he muttered, as if cursing. Eragon marched over to the stump, not bothering to look up and see the trees looming overhead, or to sense the animals as he had learned to before.

Meanwhile, Saphira flew off with Glaedr. She had insisted to stay out of concern for Eragon, but Oromis and Glaedr had told her to leave. As he watched them fade into the deep blue sky, he remembered his battle with Durza. What had transpired afterwards, the souls infesting him, it seemed like there was something he had forgotten. Familiar, but yet, so distant, he thought, and was immediately reminded of Arya.

He tried to remember the memories he had forgotten, but they seemed to elude his grasp. It was like trying to catch a cloud, and then he heard a voice. He couldn't make out what it was saying, couldn't quite hear what it was trying to tell him, and then it was gone.

Eragon stood up, and hit the trunk of a tree in his anger, but to his surprise, toppled over. He sighed, as he had just killed the tree, and had sensed its last seconds. He returned to Oromis' hut, ready to admit his failure.

“Back so early, Eragon-vodhr?” he inquired, almost surprised.

“Ebrithil, I could hear voices, but I couldn't make out what they were saying...” he said, ignoring his master's question.

“Perhaps a forgotten memory?” he suggested.

“Yes, I already knew that, but I know...I know it has something to do with my true name, Ebrithil!”

“Eragon, even I don't know my true name yet. Some people never discover it, as is common.”

“Yes, Ebrithil,” Eragon replied sulkily. Things just keep getting worse, Eragon thought pessimistically.

“Glaedr and Saphira will return soon,” Oromis stated in an attempt to cheer Eragon up, but his sulking continued, even as they flew back towards their quarters. “Oh, and Eragon! Try exploring the forest, Ellesmera is not all Du Weldenvarden has to offer you!” he heard Oromis call after them, but Eragon didn't plan to explore Du Weldenvarden, at least, not quite yet.



Arya herself was sifting through her years of memories, trying to recall a certain something Eragon had mentioned before. ...The Rock Of Kuthian...I know I've heard it before... she thought. At some place and time, she had heard a whisper of its name, and exactly what was inside it, but as with Eragon, the memory slipped away. She looked around her room, and stood up, obviously ready to give up. I will remember it when I need to the most, she decided.

Arya walked around her room in circles, trying to decide, Should I apologize to him? In the end, she walked towards the door, pushed it open, only to see Eragon standing in front of her.

“Eragon...!” she exclaimed, half surprised, and half grateful she was not in his place.

“Err, Arya, I'm sorry if what I told you of my vision disturbed you...we thought you should know,” he said as Saphira poked her head around the corner.

“I overreacted, Eragon, the fault was never yours. In any case, I am sorry...it just brought back memories.”