The Truth About Lies (An Inheritance Cycle Fanfiction)

Dousing the Flames

Tabatha, Eragon suddenly broke in, I have something I wish to ask the Eldunarí, and I'd like to hear your opinion as well. I sent him a feeling of agreement and then waited for whatever conversation would come next. Umaroth, Eragon began, with the name of the ancient language, would it be possible to bring him back? We buried him so quickly after he died, and the diamond will have stopped any decay. It would be like only a few minutes have gone by since his passing.

I could feel the hesitation radiating from the Eldunarí, and then Umaroth spoke. It would technically be possible, he said in that deep rumbling voice of his, but I fear these things are never simple. With our combined powers, we could revive his body and restore it to what it once was, but his mind and soul would be altered. He would no longer be the man you once knew.

At first, I'd been excited at the prospect, but after hearing what Umaroth had to say... Eragon, I said softly, he is right. It would not be your father. He would be a shell; a ghost of his former self. It is better to let him lie peacefully.

I knew Eragon was reluctant, but finally he relented. His sadness washed over me and Amera, and we both offered him feelings of comfort. Then, he began to murmur some words in the ancient language, and I saw the runes on the headstone begin to shift. The stone seemed to melt and flow and change, until new words were formed where the old ones had been. Now, the stone read:

HERE LIES BROM

Who was

A Rider bonded to the dragon Saphira

Son of Holcomb and Nelda

Beloved of Selena

Father of Eragon Shadeslayer

Founder of the Varden

And Bane of the Forsworn

May his name live on in glory.

Stydja unin mor'ranr.

His entire legacy was etched there in the stone, but oddly I did not feel as sad as I did before. Seeing it all there... Brom was an amazing man, and I had hardly known anything about him for most of my life. It hit me in that moment the weight that our secrets press upon us. Most of Brom's secrets had gone with him to the grave, and were only discovered later. I vowed I would not end up that way. From now on, I would be honest with my loved ones and friends. It was not worth it to live with so many things hidden.

We lingered a few moments longer, but eventually we had to leave. There was work to be done, and the Riders were not afforded much time to rest. I said what would likely be a final farewell to Brom, and then mounted Amera's saddle. We left the limestone hill behind, and hastened north to Urû'baen.

***

Upon our arrival in the city after being away for three weeks, I was glad to hear that Nasuada had renamed it Ilirea, to try and erase the darkness my father had forced upon it so long ago. She had finally managed to move into the citadel, though much of the additions my father had made were being torn down to reveal the elves' fortress that still lay underneath. It looked like quite the mish-mash of centuries and ages past, but I could see the new era that was about to dawn.

As soon as we got back, Eragon called after Arya, only to discover that she was gone. She had left a letter for him, and I left him in peace to read it. When he was done, I remained silent. Anything he wished to say, he would say in his own time.

After a few minutes, he whispered, "She has gone to aid in the elves' choosing of their new leader." He kept his head bowed, staring at the letter where he held it in his hands.

"I am sorry, Eragon," I replied, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Does she know when she will return?" He shook his head and finally folded the letter away into his tunic.

"These things take time. They want to be sure they are making the best choice for their people." I was not sure what else to say; I knew how he felt about her, and it seemed the two of us were in very similar situations now. Though his situation was slightly less bleak than mine. I wrapped him in a hug and assured him everything would be alright, the way he'd done for me so many times before.

***

The next three months crawled by at a snail's pace, as though the gods were laughing at mine and Amera's pain. We traveled to Gil'ead to release the people from their oaths. Thanks to Eragon, Saphira, Amera and me, Nasuada's reign was transitioning smoothly. After Gil'ead, Nasuada sent us to Ceunon as well. I was loath to leave my mother again, but she seemed to be doing much better.

Horst and Braeden had been keeping a near-constant watch on her, as well as monitoring her progress. Thëa gave me a quick report on how her healing was going, and I was glad to hear that some of her memories of her childhood were returning. The elf-woman was not sure the extent of the torture my father had put her under, nor why he'd kept her alive, but so far everything was going well. I had barely a day in the city before Nasuada sent us off again, and I spent all of it with my mother. She was saddened to see me leave so soon, but she understood.

Ceunon was a swift affair, as most of the other cities had been. That took us about three days, and then we turned back towards Ilirea. As we glided through the air, floating on a thermal, Eragon suddenly probed at my mind. Generally, we spent our flights in silence or in conversation with our own dragons, so his intrusion shocked me a bit.

What is it? I asked quickly. Is everything alright?

I wondered if you'd like to take a detour, he said, and I could detect a note of sadness in his voice.

And where might this detour take us? I questioned warily.

If you follow me, I will show you.

What do you think, Amera? I asked her. She sent me a feeling of amusement.

I think we should go along with his game, she said playfully.

Very well then, I conceded. She angled her wings to follow behind Saphira as we headed westward into the dying sun.

We flew over the vast forests beneath us, and then over a large body of water. Once the lake lay behind us, I could make out the hazy outline of mountains directly ahead of us. At the sight of those mountains, my heartbeat quickened in my chest, and I suddenly realized where Eragon was taking us. But why? There is nothing left of it but ruins and ash. Why would he want to see our home in such a state?

A few hours later, we were deep in the Spine, gliding over valleys and hills and forests. It didn't take much longer before the landscape began to look very familiar. And at last, I glimpsed the outlines of where foundations had once been, supporting the buildings that had made up my home. The sight of it so empty put a hollow sadness in my heart, but I could still recognize it as Carvahall, our childhood home.