The Stone of Soul âThe sands of time cannot be stopped. Years pass by our shoulders faster than we can see themâ¦but we can remember. For this you will hear is imperfect and fragmented, yet it lives on in memories in every living soulâs.â Bromâs keen eyes lingered onto Eragon and Saphira. The campfire glowed, with sparks flying up to his face; his legs were crossed and he was smoking on his pipe. âAs you know, the Dragon Riders were bonded with a dragon and they had a mission to protect and guard all of our dear land of Alagaësia. Their prowess in battle was unmatched, for each had the strength of ten men. They were immortal unless a blade or poison took them. For good only were their powers used and peace let the land flourish. Oh the great times back then, but one man of greed wanted the land for himself. The name was Galbatorix.â Eragon flinched at the name, for this was the man who slew all the Dragon Riders. Saphira wrapped her tail around Eragon and smiled gently. He smiled back at the beautiful sapphire dragon and snuggled next to the tail. âGalbatorix wanted to rule Alagaësia, but had to slay the Dragon Riders in order to do so. He had already secretly taken over the three towns of Gilâead, Bullridge and Daret by fear and force. Those who didnât obey his commands were punished and those who went against it were to see death. No one wanted stand up to him, but one did.â âHe was only a fisherman, traveling to the city of Daret, to seek a new opportunity. His name was Eridor and he was a cheerful man and whence one met him, his smile would fill you with joy. Eridor and I wereâ¦âThe old storytellerâs face softened with sorrow. âWe were friends. A great man he was with so much potential and happiness in his eyes. I couldnât even stay mad at him for a second.â Brom chuckled. Then he continued. âEridor walked among the streets of Daret. It was silent, silencer than the wind itself. Windows and doors were shut and only a few were outside, reserved and secretive. On every turn, children were hugging their knees, hungry and ragged, sad and frightened. Many people were out carrying signs, feeling intimidated and lost all hope of ever getting back to the life they once had. The markets were scarce of food and other items, and hungry thieves were everywhere to be seen. Galbatorix had transformed the place into a suffering town that was once filled of merriment and elation.â âThe fisherman was poor as well, but offered his belongings to those who had none. Eridor was a kind and gentle hearted man who couldnât stand seeing the people terrified and fearful. He decided to alert the Dragon Riders, but he needed more help to get across the sea to Vroengard, where the Riders dwelled. Eridor knocked on every door, pleading them to join him to save the town and the others from Galbatorix rule. But no one would listen. They had given up fighting and wanted to live the life they have now instead of being killed. â âBut Eridor never gave up. Eridor would always say, âIf you care for someone, protect them with both arms even if it takes your life away. Live your life and die without any regrets. That is why I must protect the ones I care for and fight, even if I have to put my life on the line.â The man was alone, but it did not bother him. Eridor would not let his kind be ruled by a tyrant, so he set out to the island and was not seen again for months. The people began to worry about him. They wondered when the brave soul would come back and if he would come back safely. But worrying could not help. Eridor came back, ragged and tiresome, but he kept a smile on his face. Eridor had brought back the Dragon Riders and they were ready to attack Galbatorix. But soon, Galbatorix realized what Eridor had done and sentenced him to be executed. The villagers from the three towns were angry at how Galbatorix was so cruel and how he had mistreated them. So they formed together with the Dragon Riders and fought to save the man who wanted to save their lives. Eridor was freed by them and they charged after Galbatorix. Using his dark magic, he gave Eridor a curse and retreated, leaving the towns free at last.â Tears welled up in Bromâs eyes as he could not stop them. âAlas, for the curse is unknown, but some say he still lives, somewhere in the vast world.â Eragon could remember when Brom had told him the tale of an ordinary fisherman and how Eragon thought it was his most favorite story that Brom had ever told him of courage and bravery. Eragon looked around for Saphira and Brom, but they were nowhere to be found. He found himself near Woadark Lake. The lake glimmered below the moonlight. The water washed against the shores and the fresh smell of pine filled the air. Night was still dwindling, the alpine trees bended to and fro while the shadows lurking behind the trees emerged into the moonlight and dispersed. The echoes of the wind carried a warning that seemed to say Help! Help! Eragon had a peculiar feeling in his body that he had known this place. So you are a human. A voice said to him. Eragon was startled and looked around him. âWho are you?â That is not important. The voice answered. The question is who are you? âMy name is Eragon. Eka aà fricai un Shurâtugal. (I am a Dragon Rider and friend.)â Eragon... The voice said thoughtfully. I see. You speak the Ancient Language well. I compliment you. You are a lucky boy Eragon. I cannot remember what I am or what my purpose is. âYouâre purpose?â Eragon inquired. âWhat do you mean?â A purpose, The voice answered, in a soft tone. Without a purpose you are a useless tool to those and to yourself, a tool that is broken and cannot be fixed. I once had a purpose, until I lost it forever. The voice paused for a moment. Do you have a purpose? Eragon thought for a while about it, trying to find out what his purpose was. He had never really considered on what his purpose was. âI suppose my purpose is to become a great Dragon Rider and help protect Alagaësia.â I understand, The voice responded. That sounds like a very important purpose. But how will you accomplish it? How is that you know that it is your purpose? Why did you choose that purpose? Is there a reason you want to become a great Dragon Rider? The questions made Eragonâs head ache and he cried, âStop! Enough!â The voice was silent. Eragon took deep breaths to relax his head and sighed. How he wished Saphira or Brom were here to explain what was going on with him. I have something you must do. The voice said quietly. But you must do this in three hours or youâll be stuck in this dream forever. âYou are speaking nonsense!â Eragon spat, his voice echoing along with the wind. Howls and growls were heard from the lake. You must be quiet and speak with your mind. The voice articulated, with a clear sound. Or who knows what might happen. Eragon tried to interrupt, but the voice continued. Go the town of Daret and youâll find the stone of soul. The stone of soul, Eragon thought. Strange name, but Iâll never make it in three hours. Who said you were going to make it in three hours? A different voice said. Eragon heard flapping noises and spun around. Saphira was next to him, smiling. You have me to help you. Eragon looked surprised to see Saphira. The wings were several times larger than the body and hard, icy-blue eyes were fixed on him. How did you get here? I sent her here. The voice came back. It will take days to get to Daret by foot, but thirty minutes to get there by wings. Saphira beamed and wagged her tail up and down, causing the ground to shake. Saphira! Eragon hissed at the dragon. Saphira shrugged and stopped. Letâs go. As they arrived in Daret, the streets were quiet as like in the story. Eragon urged Saphira to fly up into the air so no one would see her, but the voice told him not to worry. There is no one here but us. This town is abandoned. Rocks are nearby you. Eragon said Saphira. Itâs a good thing its quiet or weâll cause a commotion. Yes, Saphira snorted sarcastically, smoke puffing out of her nostrils. The moon glowed onto her sapphire scales. Itâs not like I need to get myself executed trying to find some dumb rock. Eragon glared at Saphira and then his face lit up. Saphira? Did you say executed? Yes. The stone could be in the execution grounds. The voice said that there are rocks near us. Weâll look there. Eragon ran and Saphira flew ahead. He looked at the markets and houses. The houses were chipped and old with broken windows and frames. The market signs were blown all over the place and a few skeletons laid near the alleys. Flower pots were broken and the flowers had wilted a brownish color. Carriages were in the middle of the roads, with torn paint. He spotted a stand with a sign that said âSON SICK. NEED HELP.â Eragon felt a horrible feeling about Daret, but did not dare to say it to Saphira, who acted like she had no fear. Once they arrived to the execution grounds, Eragon was correct. There were only boulders and stones sticking from the ground. It looked like a total graveyard. Look at every one of them and find the stone of soul. The voice said, coming back. This rock you are looking for is impossible to destroy. Eragon ordered Saphira to search the sky and burn down any boulder you can. Saphira nodded and she flew up into the lifting clouds and blew her scorching, fiery red and orange flames towards the boulders. Eragon took out Zarâroc, his sword that was once from the traitor Morzan and pointed it at the rocks in front of him. âBrisingr!â Eragon said, using the ancient spell on the rocks. A blast of blue and red flame burned the ten boulders and they all cracked and fell into pieces. Then he heard Saphira shout. I found the rock! Hurry and come! Eragon ran over to Saphira and saw the stone. It was a large boulder, carved on it was a body of a man. âThe fisherman Eridor!â He said with astonishment. âThe great Eridor has turned into stone! Of course! That is why Brom said he was still alive!â It is your choice. The voice said. Either let this man die within the last minutes or release him from his doom. Eragon looked at Saphira and she nodded. And he said, âMoi stenr! (Stone, change!)â The rock began to form. An old man came out from the carving and he smiled at Eragon and closed his eyes, vanishing into thin air. âHeâs goneâ¦â Eragon said with disbelief. You have released Eridor. The voice said faintly yet peacefully. Thank you, Dragon Rider. Now I know that you have given me my purpose. I am part of this man and now I will go along with him. Thank you Dragon Rider Eragonâ¦for this is only the beginning of what you must do. I wish you luck
The stone could be in the execution grounds. The voice said that there are rocks near us. We'll look there. Eragon ran and Saphira flew ahead. He looked at the markets and houses. The houses were chipped and old with broken windows and frames. The market signs were blown all over the place and a few skeletons laid near the alleys. Flower pots were broken and the flowers had wilted a brownish color. Carriages were in the middle of the roads, with torn paint. He spotted a stand with a sign that said "SON SICK. NEED HELP." Eragon felt a horrible feeling about Daret, but did not dare to say it to Saphira, who acted like she had no fear.
Could it be partially due to the amount of periods? I am normally all for using periods and not making too long winded sentences, but that there...
Saphira nodded and flew ahead, while Eragon ran off. Down on earth it was easier to see the wave of destruction in the city and the following neglect of the houses there. The painting was chipped, windows broken and doors bashed in, and everywhere signs from the market lay scattered like someone had ripped it all from the ground and carelessly tossed them away when they had been of, when they had found them to be of no use. The tell-tale sign of home and families that had lived there had decayed into a twisted joke of death and fear. People had left their wagons where they stood, most likely having taken all they could carry in their arms and fled. Sadly, not all had gotten away, and he turned his eyes away from the signs of struggle and the poorly hid remains of fine men, still laying where they fell in alleys and behind stands. Even nature had given up here, it had simply withered away. He spotted a sign, still standing stubbornly against a destroyed stand. He stopped short out of shocked, when he realized what had been crudely written across it: "SON SICK. NEED HELP." He swallowed, feeling fear and worry bubble to the surface of his mind. This did not look good for Daret. He shivered, but managed to pull away from the sign and the dreadful feeling before continuing on his way through the market. He dared not to speak his concerns with Saphira. There was no need to obscure their minds with worry, and she were already acting like there was nothing to fear, that they could pull through, and he needed her to fell exactly that, if they were going to make it.
Or something. Possibly with more consistency with the rest of the fic and stuff.
