Ófriðr - My Book 4

I've written thinking on what I believe is a possibility of the events that will occur in the last book, but as the book progresses I have obviously began to invent more stuff up... The reason I will not write to the end of the book is because I have no idea what will happen, especially with Galbatorix. Some parts are more obviously invented by me and have nothing to do with what we know of the series so far... I hope you like it, and if you do I hope you thoroughly enjoy reading it... Comment and criticize all you like... It's taken me a long time to finish this so the next part might not come for a while but I wrote quite a big piece and have already planned the other parts. Enjoy.

Chapter 1 - Broken Dreams

The only sounds where the soft beating of Saphira’s wings and the low whistling wind, there was nothing ahead of him but the vast expanse filled with nothing but the sand dunes of the Hadarac desert, which extended to infinity until they merged into one with the sky. The sun was to his right, reflected on the sand as it is reflects on the sea, sinking softly over the edge of the world. To his left he could see the stars shining unnaturally, directly above him the jagged cut between day and night. The still-radiant-sun cast long shadows behind the slow, but eternally moving, waves of sand. There was no destination to this slow, leisurely flight. Neither was there a purpose, only the feeling of freedom, contentment. The minutes passed by slowly until they became confused and whether a minute or an hour passed could not be judged even by the movement of the sun, due to the treacherous illusions of the desert.

The dream faded slowly into nothingness. Slowly another began to unfurl itself; he could feel that now he had an objective. He was running silently through a forest, as only one with the grace of an elf can, he knew not what type of trees he ran by, but they where all the same type of tree, smooth at the trunk and of moderate height. Through the interlocking branches he could see the sky behind. He was dressed in worn out clothes but they were made of sturdy leather, in his hand he had a dwarf bow, which he recognized for what he knew where Urgal horns, he held it ready to release an arrow the moment he needed to. Everything was silent around him; there was only the sound of his beating heart and the soft thud of his footsteps as they hit the soft ground. His pray was ahead of him; he followed its tracks through a wavering path in the forest. His only thoughts were of his prey and his desire to find it. He prayed to the gods for the wind not to change and reveal his position, he prayed that the strength of his arm would not fail him, he prayed for his arrows to fly true and find its target.

The eclipse that covered the land in twilight was an omen of the importance of his mission which fate itself had set upon him, he knew that it would not end until all was set right, until the hunter killed its prey and order was returned. The animals and trees seemed to fear and shrink away from this foul omen for there was not an animal to be seen and not a breath of wind to make the trees whisper between themselves. But to him nothing mattered except his prey, he did not even look up at the sky; all he could concentrate on was on the task before him.

Every step brought him closer to his prey and as he approached he could feel the destiny of this fateful task closing in on him. All of a sudden he saw it ahead of him, it was closer than he had expected. The giant animal was in the far side of a forest clearing, covered by the darker shadows of the trees above him, so that he could only see its bright yellow eyes staring in the direction of where he was. He froze for a moment, for he knew this was no dumb creature and it was as much a danger to him as he was to it, but he relaxed somewhat as he saw the eyes shift in another direction. The beast had chosen its final battle ground; it was waiting for him to arrive. Deciding to use the advantage the cover that the trees gave him he decided not to enter the clearing, he took a slow and careful step to the right searching a vantage place behind a tree near him. He took another step. Then another. The beast had not heard him move; so he silently lifted the bow and took aim in the direction of what he knew was the beast’s heart. Slowly he pulled the string back until he held him next to his right cheek. He could feel the culmination of the moment fate had chosen for him, now he must kill or be killed.

Now he was only waiting for the right time, the exact moment fate had chosen, for inspiration to sweep him so he could lose the arrow directly to its destiny. But as he felt the feeling welling in on him he heard the roar of an explosion behind him. He had been so concentrated on what he was doing that as he turned to see what was happening he was almost knocked of his feet, but he saw nothing, the light from the explosion blinded him turning everything to a pure white, even as he closed his eyes he could still see the blinding light dancing in front of his eyes. He stood motionless expecting something else to happen but with his sharpened sense of hearing he detected nothing. Slowly he opened his eyes for he could no longer see any light behind his closed lids. For a moment he could see nothing in front of him for now it was dark, darker than it had been in the twilight of the forest clearing where he had been hunting. But as his eyes slowly accustomed to the light he saw that he was no longer where he had been seconds before.

He was still in a forest, but a different one; here it was raining softly the drum of the drops of rain sounded everywhere around him in the silent forest. Eragon knew with the certainty that can only be had in dreams that it was late, after midnight. He was standing in a clearing which was covered with fallen pine needles and half-buried pine cones; he could see the tall ancient trees softly swaying to the rhythm of the wind and feel their trunks creak as they slowly moved. The clouds above him glowing with the ghostly moonlight.

He felt his waking dream had changed again, like the change that is felt as fingers enter warm water in darkness or as the change of a song that slowly transforms to the rhythm of another in a celebration; the change becomes palpable even if it is not immediately noticed. The dream had acquired the preternatural quality of those dreams in which he had seen Arya for the first time and the others in which he had seen parts, of what he suspected, was his future, but now she stood before him different. He saw that she had just entered the glade from the forest in front of him; she stood at her full height, her head held high in a regal position, she was looking at him in the eyes, her dark hair trailing behind her, moved by the wind, her eyes shining with the little light coming from the clouds. She was wearing a light cream colored silk dress as opposed to the black leather clothes she wore while in the Varden, on her face a smile spread slowly which he knew reflected her pure joy, which slowly radiated towards him until he could fill his face stretching in a smile of happiness.

As she approached him he saw that her movement was unnaturally slow yet incredibly graceful, as he was always surprised to discover, Eragon saw the sky turn ablaze as the blue-white light of thunder silently crossed it, illuminating everything with radiant light for a moment. As Arya approached him he could feel energy coursing through his body, his heart beating hard against his chest. As she neared him he saw her beginning to raise her hand to reach towards him but at the same time he felt that the dream was beginning to fade, the sense of reality pulling him away from it. He tried to resist waking up, he did not want the dream to finish, he raised his arm as if to extend it and hold Arya’s hand, but all he could see now where her eyes fading into nothingness and the harder he tried to hold the dream the faster it faded. He snapped his eyes open and he saw his raised hand in front of him, behind it the white ceiling of the room in which he was sleeping tinged with the soft light entering his east window.