Luminescent (Inheritance Cycle and Beyond)

Chapter Forty-Two: Radiant

"Surely, though, Master, you do not intend to venture into battle yourselves."

"And why should we not?" Oromis inquired, tilting his head to one side.

"Forgive me, Master, but how can you fight when you cannot cast spells that require more than a small amount of energy? And what of the spasms you sometimes suffer? If one were to strike in the middle of a battle, it could prove fatal."

"As you ought to know well by now, mere strength rarely decides the victor when two magicians duel. Even so, I have all the strength I need here, in the jewel of my sword. For over a hundred years, Glaedr and I have stored every iota of our excess strength in this diamond, and others have added their strength to the pool as well; twice a week, several elves from Ellesméra visit me here and transfer as much of their life force into the gem as they can without killing themselves. The amount of energy contained within this stone is formidable, Eragon; with it, I could shift an entire mountain. It is a small matter, then, to defend Glaedr and me from swords and spears and arrows, or even from a boulder cast by a siege engine. As for my seizures, I have attached certain wards to the stone in Naegling that will protect me from harm if I become incapacitated upon the battlefield. So you see, Eragon, Glaedr and I are far from helpless."

"We only wish that you and Glaedr stay safe, Master," I replied as Eragon dipped his head.

"I appreciate your concern, and you are right to be concerned, for war is a perilous endeavor, and even the most accomplished warrior may find death waiting for him amid the heated frenzy of battle. However, our cause is a worthy one. If Glaedr and I go to our deaths, then we go willingly, for by our sacrifice, we may help to free Alagaësia from the shadow of Galbatorix's tyranny."

"But if you die and yet we still succeed in killing Galbatorix and freeing the last dragon egg, who will train that dragon and his Rider?"

"If that should come to pass," said the elf, his face grave, "then it shall be your responsibility, Eragon, and yours, Saphira, to instruct the new dragon and Rider in the ways of our order. Ah, do not look so apprehensive, Eragon. You would not be alone in the task. No doubt Islanzadí and Nasuada would ensure that the wisest scholars of both our races would be there to help you."

"What about Mal?" I glanced at Eragon.

"Eragon, my future is too uncertain for me right now for me to accept such responsibility."

"The entire forest shuddered when you woke the Menoa tree, Saphira, and half the elves in Ellesméra contacted Glaedr and me with frantic pleas for us to rush to her aid. Moreover, we had to intervene on your behalf with Gilderien the Wise, to prevent him from punishing you for employing such violent methods."

"I shall not apologize, we had not the time to wait for gentle persuasion to work." Oromis nodded.

"I understand, and I am not criticizing you, Saphira. I only wanted you to be aware of the consequences of your actions." At his request, Eragon handed his newly forged sword to Oromis and held his helm for him while the elf examined the sword. "Rhunön has outdone herself, few weapons, swords or otherwise, are the equal of this. You are fortunate to wield such an impressive blade, Eragon. Brisingr . . . a most apt name for the sword of a Dragon Rider."

"Aye," Eragon said. "But for some reason, every time I utter its name, the blade bursts into . . . , flames." Oromis's eyebrow climbed even higher.

"Indeed? Did Rhunön have an explanation for this unique phenomenon?" As he spoke, Oromis returned Brisingr to Eragon, and I handed Islingr over.

"I have naught seen a blade this light yet deadly in my lifetime. You have skilled hands Khensamel." Oromis then read the runes on the blade. "Islingr, bringer of light. You couldn't have picked a more perfect name."

"Something happens to my blade as well Master," I responded, Oromis handed over my blade, and I held it out in front of me. "Islingr!"

The blade once again emitted and sparked with light. I cut the spell and returned my sword back to its scabbard.

"You have become what you set out to be Khensamel," Oromis said before his face went somber. "I am afraid I have let my pride speak for me. Glaedr and I may not be helpless, but neither, as you pointed out, Eragon, are we entirely whole. Glaedr has his wound, and I have my own . . . Impairments. It is not for nothing I am called the Cripple Who Is Whole. Our disabilities would not be a problem if our only enemies were mortal men. Even in our current state, we could easily slay a hundred ordinary humans—a hundred or a thousand, it would matter little which. However, our enemy is the most dangerous foe we or this land has ever faced. As much as I dislike acknowledging it, Glaedr and I are at a disadvantage, and it is quite possible that we shall not survive the battles yet to come. We have lived long and full lives and the sorrows of centuries press upon us, but the four of you are young and fresh and full of hope, and I believe your prospects of defeating Galbatorix are greater than those of anyone else."

Oromis glanced at Glaedr, and the elf's face became troubled. "Therefore, in order to help ensure your survival, and as a precaution against our possible demise, Glaedr has, with my blessing, decided to . . ."

"I have decided to give you my heart of hearts." Glaedr finished. I exchanged shocked looks with Eragon.