940A/N- Adding to the hundreds of Arya/Eragon Fanfics already here...
Here's all the drama of reconciliation ramped up to 11. Instead of ten years or even a hundred, there is a millennium...
Summary: After a thousand years of running from Alagaesia, Divine Grace brings Eragon's path back to Du Weldenvarden in search of the one he thought he had long forgotten...
A Millennial Eternity
By ZoSo7MoS
Chapter 1- Eragon
1000 Years After Inheritance
Eragon felt old. Worn too thin, like a piece of paper that was marked over and over until the material stretched over the seams, threatening to fall apart.
He was tired. Living the same life for a thousand years, he had learned to understand that that was never a good thing. But it was not physical weakness or magical incapacity that gnawed at his strength. He was powerful now. More powerful than the Riders of Old. Vrael himself would pale in comparison, as Umaroth had so eloquently said not a fortnight before.
With the Eldunari's help, he had discovered new branches of magic, new ways to manipulate the Ancient Language into altering the fabric of reality. He had found ways to cast spells utilizing the energy from the sun...he had found ways to tear apart objects, be they living or not, from the inside. He had even discovered a way to save people on the brink of death.
But what was the point?
Life was meaningless. All that power, but no soul. His heart belonged only to one. Saphira.
Many years had passed since Alagaesia stopped sending him riders to train. He remembered the very first, a young elf, with bronzed hair and keen blue eyes, swimming with wisdom. Eragon had been younger than the elf, but even at that age, he was more powerful. When the egg had hatched for the elf, he had been delighted for an apprentice. He shaped the elven rider into a powerful spirit, and sent him to Alagaesia. They seemed happy with the results, and sent him more to train.
They would travel thousands of leagues, many almost dying in the process. The road was long and harsh, difficult to travel on. There were demons and devilish creatures from unearthly realms, who could not die. There were behemoth's made of stone, magical creatures that were invulnerable to spells. There were even wild dragons...though they weren't pure dragons. There was a magical flux of energy around the place, which had mutated the ecosystem into a convoluted mess. These creatures could not survive outside their natural habitats. The reason? There was a gemstone, set into the heart of a mountain, and it was Alive.
It was on this mountain that Eragon had settled. It was not anywhere close to Alagaesia. The mountain he had named Bjartskular. It was a sanctuary for the last rider of the dark ages. After the first elf had left, the next riders sent from the motherland were slow to come, until they stopped coming entirely. Eragon was left forgotten, a hero only etched in myth. He had wanted to go back...but his heart told him it was not wise. He was at peace...or so he told himself.
Why hadn't I gone back sooner? He thought as he stood on the peak of the mountain, feeling the cold wind bite his skin. He had forgotten. Echoes of whispers, glistening in the moonlight like dewdrops in a storm. A memory just beyond my grasp. A face I can't seem to remember, as time would make me forget. He remembered dark, hazelnut hair. Doe eyes the colour of evergreen leaves, red lips stained permanently with a tinge of cherry...
He didn't remember her name...
Sighing, he took a deep breath and jumped off the mountaintop. The sky rippled around him as he sliced through the air like a knife. Moments before crashing into the ground, a iridescent blue colossus caught him on her back.
Saphira...
Yes, little one...Tell me what is bothering you.
Do you remember the last time we saw another face...?
The response was a hoarse whisper, almost. Three hundred years ago.
His blood almost froze. What have I become, Saphira? Alagaesia has forgotten me...I exist only in legend...I do not remember the last time I saw a human face...My past is so long ago that it cannot even be put into words...I long for company.
...The Eldunari are dying, and so is Bjartskular...The magic in the air is fading...What has the world become...?
She crooned softly. Do you remember why we never went back? You don't, obviously, but I still do. Your heart was broken, yet whole...You did not understand when the time would be right to return...As the students came and went, your thoughts of her lessened. I watched as it happened, I watched your heart turn into something indifferent...your compassion, your soul. It withered and died, Eragon. I could not force you to try and change that, because you were at peace...
He sighed softly, landing in front of the cave he called home. It was no small cave, it was more of a cavern. The opening was small, barely big enough for Saphira, but the interior ran till the heart of the mountain. He needed to consult the gemstone for advice. Unsaddling Saphira, he quickly kept everything properly and ran to the centre of the mountain.
Reaching the hall of the gem, he placed a hand upon the massive red ruby. It glowed, and the spirit within it spoke.
Eragon...
It is me.
I see what it is that troubles you....
What must I do...?
Go back to the land of elves...
What will I find there?
Love.
He jolted his hand away from the ruby, which was pulsating with magic.
Do I even want Love? Or can I even feel this emotion...? There is only one who ever made me Love, and she is likely long dead.
Tut, Tut, little one. Do not be so foolish to discard the wisdom of the mountain.
Are you saying we go back to Alagaesia? After a MILENNIA?
Saphira merely turned and gave him a toothy grin. He took a deep breath.
I am tired of being tired. We leave tomorrow on the morn.
Saphira roared in triumph, blasting fire at the sky.
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