Chapter Eight: Broken Truth

Eragon walked through the crowded streets of Aberon, the capital of Surda. He had left his room to look for Arya, as they hadn't spoken since before he rescued Katrina with Roran. Just like in Ellesmera, he got the vague feeling she was avoiding him, but he was unsure of the reason. Saphira, he said, returning to his quarters, do you think we should tell Arya about Thorn and Murtagh? I...I dont like to hide things from her.

Yes, it would be best to tell her and Nasuada the truth. Our choices concerning Murtagh and Thorn could affect everyone, she concluded.

Aye, I'll tell Nasuada that I must tell her and Arya something important immediately. Will you come as well? He asked.

Indeed, she said as Eragon opened the creaky door, and exited his chamber. He left the building, and continued towards Nasuada's tent, all the while glancing about for traces of Arya. He noticed that the people were much different from those of the Varden. They were normal people, innocent, not warriors.

These people haven't endured suffering, unlike the Varden, he noted to Saphira. He once again gazed at the citizens. He envied that they hadn't lost what he had, but he was grateful too. No one should have to go through what I have, he thought privately. The men and women returned his gaze, and he quickly flicked his gaze towards the ground. By the time he reached Nasuada's room, it was already noon. He looked up and saw the sun directly over head, its light touching everything.

Eragon returned his attention to the door, and knocked. “Who is it?” she asked, Eragon recognized her voice.

“It is Eragon Shadeslayer,” he answered in a calm, cool voice. He waited patiently at the door, and it was several minutes before she finally opened it.

“Eragon!” she exclaimed, stunned by his arrival. “Why are you here?”

“There is something important I must discuss with you and Arya,” he informed her, bowing. Her laid back expression soon turned into a serious one. She frowned, as if worried that the news he brought would only make things worse.

“Come in then, and I will have my servant fetch her,” she said in a concerned tone. Lady Nasuada showed him to a seat, and called for her maid. Farica came rushing in through the servants entrance.

“Yes, my lady?” her maid asked.

“I want you to find Arya, the elf ambassador, and show her here.” Nasuada waved her hand, and Farica bowed. After, she hurried out the door to find Arya. Eragon looked around, and noticed an indentation in the wall behind Nasuada. He stood up, and walked over to inspect it. Placing a hand above the gash in the wall, he could only guess what had happened. Noticing Eragon's curiousity, Nasuada quickly explained, “It was when the Black Hand attempted to assassinate me. Elva knocked me to the ground, and saved me from a dart.”

“I see...” Eragon searched for another subject, and finally asked, “How is Elva since I....removed the curse.” It was a painful reminder of how ignorant he had been just a year before. Mistakes, he thought, that had cost me dearly.

“Elva fares well, thanks to you. She still has many years ahead of her.”

“Good, Im glad to hear that,” he said, then muttered several incomprehensible words. He was not proud of his mistake, and it was his burden to bare. Feeling Eragon's displeasure, Saphira swung her head in through the open window, startling Nasuada.

It is fine, Little One. Elva has recovered, and she will grow up to be a good person, she comforted.

I hope so.


An hour later, Farica returned with Arya, showing her into the chamber, then closing the door. As Arya walked in, she eyed Eragon almost suspiciously, but said nothing to him. Her green gaze made him uneasy, and he shifted and looked down.

“Right, Eragon, what is it that you needed to tell us?” Nasuada asked after a few minutes.

“Thorn came to Saphira and I while we were in Helgrind,” he told them. Eragon heard gasps of surprise from Nasuada, then glanced at Arya, only to see her expressionless face. He continued, “While Roran and I rescued Katrina, Saphira was fending off the both the Lethrblaka. Thorn saved her life, and in return, we, that is to say Saphira and I, agreed to help remove Murtagh's bond with Galbatorix. Currently, Thorn is in the Beors, where he awaits our solution.” After finishing his tale, he readied himself for the consequences of his actions.

Eragon looked at Arya, her face showing no apprehension or emotion. He moved his gaze to Nasuada, who in turn revealed her surprise and worry. “Do you believe Thorn is trustworthy?” she asked Eragon.

“Perhaps, but he saved Saphira's life. I have no choice but to repay the debt.”

“I see. I liked Murtagh when I first met him, perhaps he is still good,” she replied, “Very well, I think you made a good choice. You both may go,” Nasuada said, waving her hand towards the door.

As they exited Nasuada's room, Arya turned and walked away. Eragon chased after her, and shouted, “Arya!” then in the Ancient Language, added, “Wait.” She stopped, and remained motionless. She hadn't turned around, but he assumed she was listening. Continuing to speak in the Ancient Language, he said, “Arya Svit-Kona, whatever I have done to upset you, I again cry for your pardon. I am unsure as to what I have done to upset you, but I wanted you to know...” he hesitated, “Im sorry.”

Arya turned around, and told him, “You would never understand.”

“Understand what?” he asked, surprised.

After several minutes, she finally gave in, and said, “What it is to lose the one person you love the most. To watch as they are slain, and know you couldn't have done anything about it.”

Eragon was taken aback, but then realized the implications. Even though it hurt him, he replied, “You're wrong. I do know what it is to lose the person I love the most. You.” Eragon sighed, and looked towards the ground. “Saphira once told me that life is both pain and pleasure. Is the price for pleasure too high?”

Arya muttered something incomprehensible to herself, and then said, “You are wise beyond your years, Eragon-elda.”

“Perhaps,” he replied as he turned his back towards her, hiding the streams of tears falling from his face. “Honestly though, I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all.” Arya notice a hint of anger in his voice, and his sudden hostility surprised her.

He's right though, she told herself, I have grieved for Faolin for far too long. He gave his life for me so that I could live happily. I owe him that much, at least. Regaining her composure, she walked towards her chamber. Arya had seen the tears rolling from Eragon's face, no matter how hard he had tried to hide them. His words still echoed through-out her mind. He is not the boy who saved me from Gilead. He is very different now, and wise and mature beyond his years.


Eragon walked out of the corridors, and into the open air. The castle walls surrounded him, but at least he was in the open. You took a chance, Eragon, Saphira told him as he walked towards her.

Aye, I know, but I cant stand to see her so upset. Like I said, I'd rather live my life in pain for her to be happy.

Noble words, Eragon, but would you really give up your life for hers? Saphira questioned.

Eragon hesitated, as if thinking carefully before he answered. Yes, he decided, yes, I would give anything for her. He jumped onto Saphira, and they took off into the sky. It was already getting dark, so they decided to retire to their room. As Eragon lay in his trance, he had a dream:



The sky was dark, covered with dark gray clouds. They filled the night sky, the moon barely visible through the fog. Eragon looked around, his sight dampened by the rain that was pouring down upon him. He saw dead bodies scattered across the ground, and trees that had fallen. The limbs of both the living and the dead produced an acrid smell that pierced his perceptive senses. Blood was washed away by the rain, almost overflowing everything. He recognized the place: Du Weldenvarden. The bodies of elves were littered along the trees and branches. The corpses of the Empire scattered with them. Few survived the battle, those who did would never be the same. He saw two people standing, recognizing them as Nasuada and Orik. Then he noticed an elf, collapsed onto her knees. Arya! He thought to himself, but she was different this time: tired, injured, and worst of all: devastated. He saw what was paining her: a man, dead in her lap. A sword through his heart. Eragon couldn't recall who it was, but he could see that he had meant a lot to Arya. Tears streamed down her face, and onto the man's corpse. He saw Nasuada bend down, and whisper something into Arya ear. For the first time, he witnessed how struck both Nasuada and Orik were. Tears rolled down even the dwarves face. The land was covered with death and despair. How could his happen? He wondered.