Brisingr

DISCLAIMER: The usual.

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A gust of hot air passed by, stifling those in its path. Many, disoriented from the fierce battle that had taken place, groaned as they continued their daily tasks in the dry and dreary heat.

Eragon Shadeslayer stood upright, surveying the results of the battle from a steep hill. Casualties had already been reported as at least twenty thousand for the Varden; however, the Empire had sustained even larger losses. Looking at the blood soaked battlefield, Eragon sighed.

“So many deaths…just to stop one ruthless madman…” Eragon thought wearily.

It had been just one day since the awful battle that had taken place. The Varden had done its best to console the families of the soldiers who had died in the conflict. However, many were shattered, shattered by loss and grief. Soldiers learned the harsh reality of war; many were changed forever by the battle.

And to compound the losses, Hrothgar, the Dwarven king, had died. Eragon caught many dwarves walking around aimlessly, their heads buried in their chests as they wept for their fallen king. Orik in particular was devastated; Eragon noticed him appear haggard, bearing the marks of one who did not sleep well.

Eragon was devastated too. Murtagh’s betrayal hit him hard-only last night did he fully realize what had happened. And the news of his father was unsettling. Morzan, first and last of the Forsworn, was his father. It was as if he was in a dream.

Eragon was snapped out of his trance by a small meek boy, nervously stammering, “S-Sir? Lady N-Nasuada w-would l-like to see you.”

Eragon was taken aback for a moment; then, he comprehended what he had said. “And what is your name?”

“J-Jarvis, s-sir.” The boy looked frightened, evidently scared of approaching him.

“Nice to meet you, Jarvis.” Eragon said, attempting to lighten the mood a little. “Can you lead me to Lady Nasuada then?”

The boy gave a timid nod before turning and hurriedly walking down to the villages, Eragon following closely behind. When they reached the village, many soldiers gave a salute to Eragon as he walked by. Eragon smiled, but continued his trek to Nasuada’s camp. At last, after several minutes, they arrived at a large camp, with decorations along the sides. The boy stopped, meekly said, “The leader’s camp.” He then quickly walked away, which developed into a run as he sprinted away. Eragon followed his fleeing form with his eyes for a few seconds, before nervously pushing the twin flaps open.