The Winged Sun .cont.
"Nicely done my lady; well, I believe that we should press on without delay." Skulblaka was quite impressed with Isidar's skill and cunning as a fighter. "I agree; let's be moving on to Ellesmera." Skulblaka admired her beauty and inteligence as they walked together. The pair walked deep into the forest of Du Weldenvarden, as they passed several trees which seemed to have a different spark of life than the rest. Gradually, these trees became more comon and, after a day's hike, they reached the northern entrance into Ellesmera, the royal elven city. Isidar led Skulblaka up a winding staircase and into a large tower which seemed to touch the tops of the enormous trees of Du Weldenvarden. When he stepped through the thresshhold of the tower, he saw a sight he did not expect; there, standing before him, in the high tower of Ellesmera, was Oromis.
"I-I was told that you were dead!" exclaimed Skulblaka in astonishment.
Oromis coughed and laughed at the same time. "No, I'm not dead yet, but I am dying. I'll last maybe another week. First, however, I must give you the gift that I promised you long ago; do you remember that?"
"Yes, I do; you said that you would give me the ability to fufill my dreams...I never understood what was meant by that."
"You will now; do you believe the stories I've told you, the stories of dragons and dragon riders?"
Skulblaka thought for a moment, recalling all of the ancient tales he had been told. He nodded his head slightly, as though not fully comperhending the situation; so much was happening all at once.
"Good, then you must finally know the truth; I am a Dragon Rider" Oromis removed his right gauntlet and revealed a golded marking on his palm, but it was slowly fading and lossing its shining luster. "This", said Oromis, holding his palm to Skulblaka,"is the mark of a dragon rider, the Gedwey Ignasia, or, the shining palm, and mine has begun to fade away because of the bond I share with my dragon..." Oromis' voice turned solem and his face turned grim with sadness. "When...a rider or a dragon is wounded, the other shares the pain of the one who recieved the blow. Likewise...when a rider dies, his dragon does also, however the reverse is not true in that case..." Oromis looked at Skulblaka straight in his eyes; he saw his young apprentice's look of worry and sorrow, but also dertermination and an unmatched courage and yearning for understanding.
"I am dying, Skulblaka...and when I die, my dragon will as well, and I won't let that happen. Come closer to me, my young friend." Oromis held out his palm and thrust it to Skulblaka's heart. Immediately, Skulblaka felt a strange pressence entering his mind, yet it felt familiar; then he realized that it was Oromis; he looked at his teacher with a worried expression and saw the gedwey ignasia vanish from Oromis' palm, watching in wonder and awe as it began to materialize on his own palm, shining a fierce gold. Suddenly, images of a far off isle appeared in his mind; he saw brightly colored stones in, a nest! They weren't stones at all, they were dragon eggs, he realized. He saw a golden egg, laying away from the rest, beginning to hatch, then he saw a flash, and now images of betrayal and death swarmed his thoughts, and in moments he had seen and now knew the entire history of the dragons and riders and even Alagaesia itself. He panted, in shock from all he had seen and an even stronger hatred for the false king, Galbatorix; Skulblaka looked up at Oromis, who was smiling in contentment at his former apprentice's, now, golden amber eyes. His breathing began to slow as e spoke his last words to Skulblaka.
"This...is all I can give you, you who have been like the son I never had; I give you my essence, my bond, and all my knowledge that I have gained and known through all of my years in this world. Recieve it now! Recieve...your Inheritance!
Suddenly, Oromis flung open the doors to the outside, a glowing sunset painted the western sky, as Skulblaka suddenly felt the earth shake and looked up. His eyes widened as he saw the most magnificant sight he had ever laid eyes upon; an enormous, gold dragon, bright as a flaming sun, hung before him, lightly beating its massive wings.
"This...is your...inheritance, Glaedr, who has been my friend through many dangers; use it wisely, for my time is now up. The last thing I must tell you, is that Glaedr and I found a nest of eggs some three months ago; I used my power to send them to whomever will be their riders; Galbatorix knows nothing of these eggs, nor does he know that Glaedr still exists. I need you to raise the next generation of riders for me; I have already prepared one for his destiny and you may meet him someday, but he too, will need your help; he is up against more than he can handle...My time on this earth is...finished...my...son."
Oromis drew in his last breath and collapsed as his pupils dilalated and his heart ceased beating. Skulblaka fell to his knees as the blow of his master, and father's death, encircled his mind and he wept.
Then, a voice rumbled and shook through Skulblaka's mind, like the growl of a mountain avalanche. It was calming, yet had the authority to make the very earth do its bidding.
Young rider, I am Glaedr; do not mourn and do not weep for Oromis...you may have known him your entire life, but so have I, and I have been around much longer. I do not weep because I know that he now lives on in you!
Skulblaka rose and looked at Glaedr; he picked up Oromis's sword and shimmering white cloak, donning it and then mentally spoke with his new dragon. I will do my best to fufill what Oromis wanted, but I will need your help in all I do. Come, Skulblaka spoke now with a new authority, his knowledge and power, running through his veins. we must find these new riders; let us hunt for the white one first.
Then he pulled the hood of his white cloak over his head and belted his sword and strapped his bow and quiver; then, leaping from the balcony onto Glaedr's saddle, flew off over the top of the Du Weldenvarden, in search of the new riders.
