Death's Daughter (An Inheritance Cycle Fanfiction)

Leave Taking

Somewhere far off, a child laughed and his mother called to him for dinner. Lady Death turned her head in their direction, enjoying this little slice of life she was getting to witness. It was not often that she got to observe the mortals; usually, she was far too busy ferrying the souls of the recently departed. When she looked up at the sky, she noticed the position of the sun as it hung low. The hour was getting late, and soon her task would be finished. She scanned the sky for any sight of dragons, but did not see any. If they were going to make it, they would have been back by now. Lady Death heaved a sigh and shifted her gaze to the towering citadel. She was not necessarily looking forward to going back in there, but she knew she must. Even now, the queen's life was slowly ebbing away, drawing into the void where it would hang in limbo until Lady Death came to carry it away. And so, padding along quietly on bare feet, she made her way as slowly as she dared through the bustling city, slipping into the castle unseen and steeling herself for whatever trial she might face in the form of Murtagh.

When she reached the queen's chambers, it was much as it had been the first night she had come there. Eragon and Arya stood huddled together, and Murtagh sat as close to the bed as he could without being in it. She noticed that Elva was absent, but paid no further mind. For what did one immortal girl matter to the goddess of death? No one-not even the Red Rider-stirred at her arrival. Murtagh was too engrossed in the condition of his lady wife to notice that her fate had finally come. Off of the balcony, Lady Death could see the sun hanging just over the flat horizon. Not much longer now.

Nasuada's breath came raggedly, an alarming rattling in her chest causing those that were gathered to worry more than they had before. Her eyes remained closed, where once they had opened periodically to inspect her visitors. Her life was coming to an end, and all who were present knew it.

Murtagh's head suddenly shot up to look out the windows, and then he glared coldly at Lady Death. She just continued to stare back at him impassively. They had made a deal, and she had met her end of the bargain. Now it was time, and he knew there was naught he could do to stop her. King Ajihad suddenly burst into the room, having been fetched by a servant at Murtagh's behest.

"Father..." he said breathlessly, rushing to the Rider's side. Lady Death watched on, her hands clasped in front of her.

'It is time, my lady,' Armaros intoned gravely. The silver clasp at her neck was humming and shuddering with energy.

'I know, Armaros. Just a moment more, though. I promised him until sunset.' She looked out off of the balcony, and thought that the sun seemed to be taking its time in setting tonight. Slowly, she moved toward the bed, preparing to take the queen away. As Ajihad knelt by the bed, silent tears flowing down his face, Murtagh had only eyes for Lyris. She held his gaze, undeterred by its ferocity. This was the moment, whether he was ready or not.

"No!" Murtagh suddenly shouted, jumping up from his chair and knocking it to the floor. Eragon looked alarmed at his sudden outburst.

"Murtagh, what is it? What's happened?" he asked in concern. The two of them, Eragon and Arya both, hurried across the room to his side. Murtagh continued to stare at Lady Death, though to their eyes it seemed he was staring into nothingness.

"I can't let you do this," he growled threateningly.

"Your time is up, Rider," Lady Death replied, unfazed by this expected development. "We struck a bargain. Do you mean to tell me you are going back on your word?"

"Father, who are you speaking to?" Ajihad asked, looking up to the man he had hardly known throughout his life. By the utterly flabbergasted looks on the faces of those gathered there, Lady Death knew this would not end quickly. And so, with Armaros' aid, she unraveled the enchantment of the red cloak that kept her concealed and thus made her presence known. The other two Riders gasped in shock at her sudden appearance and drew their weapons, green and blue blades shimmering in the light of dusk that poured through the windows. As for the king, he seemed at a loss for words.