Right. To put it lightly, I am fed up. I am fed to the teeth with these idiots following me around and sending me anonymous reviews (so I can't track them) and flaming me over the supposed discontinuation of SilverLocke980's FF.net story. I am posting this here to tell them all to FUCK OFF, because if the assholes had looked at the fic, maybe it would be possible to get it through their thick skulls that the fic was NEVER DISCONTINUED!!!! It's still up and being updated, so get your collective heads out of your ass and go read it!!!! Now, LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!
To everyone else, thanks for sending good reviews. To texen_witch, thanks for the note, I hadn't caught that mistake. I edited the chapter to change it back, but no one has to read the chap over because all it was was a `V' instead of a `W' on the name `Du Weldenvarden'. Thanks anyway.
And yes, I am proud to say that this is the only HP/Eragon, or Eragon/anything fic ever written for FF.net or Portkey.org.
To Maethron, thanks very much for the praise. If you want a visual, the main idea for the description came from the image in the LoTR:TFoTR movie directed by Peter Jackson, being the city of Rivendel (sp?) with additions. To anyone who is interested, the `tower with four large, open windows, one facing each of the four winds' from the previous chapter is the city's Dragon Tower, nearly identical to the one in Trojenheim (I got some questions about this).
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`The wand choses the wizard, Mr. Potter, remember [that].'
~Mr. Olivander, Harry Potter and the Sorcerers Stone
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The Draconis Saga
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Chapter 3
Destiny Board
--
Nitaro walked slowly into the room, Harry and Tristan following him at his heels. Standing in the far corner of the room was a old man (he couldn't have been an elf because he didn't seem to have the pointed ears).
Nitaro bowed, and as he did so, he spoke to the man.
"The visitors are here to speak with you, Sage."
The man turned, and Harry got his first look at the man's face. He was tall, with long silvery white hair and a flowing silver beard, and blue twinkling eyes.
He knew those eyes. He had seen them so many times in the past five years at Hogwarts.
"Professor Dumbledore?" he asked tentatively.
The man smiled kindly at him. "No, my boy, I am not the one you call Dumbledore, though I do have many names. To some, I am `Osthato Chetowä', The Morning Sage. To others, I am `Togira Ikonoka', The Cripple Who Is Whole. And to many, many more, I am simply known as `Fate'. To, you, I hope to become a friend."
He gestured to the three seats by the fire. "Please, sit down, I have many things to tell you, and I believe it may help to answer some of your questions."
Harry nodded.
"Good," the man said, smiling. "Now, Lets get some light, as the sun will be setting soon. Fieri."
The many candles that sat on the book cases, the mantle, and the oaken desk burst into flame. Harry, startled, opened his mouth to speak but closed it again, waiting for the man to tell his tale.
The man smiled again. "Thank you for holding you curiosity at bay for the time being. Now…I suppose I should start…at the beginning. That would do well, wouldn't it…"
His eyes twinkled silently. "The beginning… Well, the whole story begins some 54 years ago. I had gotten my hands on an old tome, written by the race of the centaurs, dedicated entirely to recording their predictions. As their race has the gift of foresight, their predictions are taken very seriously. It was one of their predictions in the late years of the last age that caught my interest all those years ago, and since then I have tried to figure out it's meaning. The prediction is this: Freedom war with riders gone, nine come and our light shone, fought our war `till Dark was gone, on the fields of battle won, then on to war again. Afterward it gave the clues of the nine people who were destined to become the nine who would lead us top victory, as well as the time frame, `half of third age' That time is now, in the year 500 of the Third Age.
"Now, for one to understand that part of the tale, you would have top know about the history that surrounds it. Long ago in this land, a race arrived from across the seas, and they set up a civilization here. They were the elves. They came from the land called Alalea, though none but they know where this forgotten land lies.
"Now, when they arrived in this land, they found many beings living here, but only three that were sentient, the dwarves, who are the great miners of this earth; the humans, who take might in their numbers and ingenuity; and the dragons, the oldest race of all, and by far the wisest and strongest of their time, or any other for that matter.
"The elves were a proud race then, and they are now, and they have always been strong in the ways of magic. At first, they regarded the dragons, as mere animals. Dangerous ones, but still animals, and from that belief rose a deadly mistake. A decade or so after they came to this land, a brash young elf hunted down and killed a dragon, just as he would a stag. Outraged, the dragons hunted down and killed the elf in the same manner.
"Unfortunately, it did not end there, and, to abbreviate a complicated set of events, there was a long and very bloody war, which was costly to both sides. In the beginning, the elves fought only to protect and defend themselves, but, in the end, it became obvious that they would have to go to the offensive if the war was ever to end and the species stay alive at all.
"Now, this war would have gone on for far longer than the five years it did had a young elf by the name of Eragon found a dragon egg lying abandoned in the forest. No one knows how it got there, and there certainly were many theories, but I believe that the egg was left there by the dragons in the hope that the elves would do just as they did.
"The young elf found the egg, and, realizing the worth of a friendly dragon, raised it in secret, and, when it matured, traveled back and forth to the dragons and elves, arguing that a treaty should be made, so that the war could end. In the end, both sides agreed, and hence the war was over. And to make sure that the treaty was never broken, it became necessary to establish the Riders.
"The Riders were an group of Elves and Dwarves, and, eventually, Men, who where given the eggs of dragons. The raised the dragons by themselves, and when the dragon was old enough, they would begin to train it in the ways of war, and, in the end, they would ride to the far ends of the land together. Now, the dragons are very intelligent creatures, and they are both wise and powerful in the ways of magic. When the man, elf, or dwarf raised the dragon, the dragon would pass on some of its wisdom, strength, and magical ability into the one who was its partner, so to speak. It would also amplify the magical ability of the one who rode it, which it why the elves were always the strongest riders, having natural abilities of their own as well as the ones given them.
"The Riders were eventually given powers of governance, and, in the height of their power, held more power in their hands than all of the kings in Alagaësia combined."
He paused when Harry opened his mouth to speak. "When was their downfall?"
"Well, that was just over a century ago, at the hands of a rebellious Rider called Galbatorix. He, with the help of twelve other dissatisfied Riders, overthrew the Riders and formed his own organization, the Thirteen. They took over all of the lands from the western waters to the Forests of Du Weldenvarden, the Hadarac Deserts, and the Boer Mountains, forming The Kingdom. Since Galbatorix was their leader, and is now the last of the Thirteen alive, he has been and still is the King.
"And now, we come back to the prediction made just over 540 years ago by the centaurs, with the nine people they prophesized would take up the mantles left behind by the most famous of riders. The first clue went like this: Spine walker, Ra'zac stalker, brought to Varden by forgotten Rider and son of the Red Winged One. This person is a young man of 16 years by the name of Eragon. He bears both the name and story of the Elf born over three thousand years before him. Again, he is first of the Riders.
"The second clue was for you, my boy," he said smiling at Harry. "Imortal by a prophesy, from beyond the farthest sea, Howarts magic runs in me, hunted by a Darkened fiend, Dexzaran."
Tristan looked up, "Does that mean-"
Osthato nodded. "Yes…the next was of you. Magical brother, friend of another, Muggle called by other, from beyond the seas.
"And then there were others. Six others who were identified through the predictions the centaurs gave us. Through magic performed by myself and others from this city, we have located and identified the remaining people, and have sent summons to them as well, this time by messenger, as all of the others dwell in the lands of Alagaësia, and therefore did not need us to send them summons via the means we gave you. I will explain why they were called and then you can ask questions, yes?"
He had said this when he sensed Harry's inquisitive look, and, when Harry nodded, he continued.
"The book the prediction came in was found in the crypt of the Elvin Rider named Forasmir. He died some 530 years ago, near the height of the Riders' power, and his tomb was discovered by accident while digging the foundations for a watchtower on the mountain above us." He pointed up at the massive mountain that could be seen through the window behind them all. "In his tomb we found many things, some of which were obviously personal items that were put into the tomb so that he would be with his possessions for ever, but what interested us most was what was at the back: the book of centaur predictions, and, just behind it, eight eggs. Dragon's eggs.
"Now, that was over 50 years ago, and the tower has since been built, and, thanks to the Elvin King at the time, Arimas, I was able to keep the existence of the eggs a secret, and no one, with the exception of myself, the king, a few elves, and now you, know a thing about what was found in there.
"The reason that I have brought you from your world to mine, my friends; the reason I have called these nine elves, dwarves, and men here; the reason that those objects were left inside that tomb is because the two of you, as well as the other seven chosen figures from the other Alagaësian nations, are destined to become…Riders.
"Now…I know I said I would let you ask questions, but…I can tell that you both need to…have some time to…think this over, alright?"
Harry and Tristan nodded, and Osthato quietly left the room, closing the door behind him. When the Elvin guard that stood by the door gave him a questioning look, he just smiled, and gave a small word to the elf, who nodded, and the old warlock walk slowly down the hall, as he, too, was lost in thought.
---~*~---
--
Dumbledore looked him straight in the eye before saying, slowly, "Because something happened at twenty to nine last night which I have reason to believe has relevance to this matter, which, I fear, is of grave importance."
--
Remus Lupin, who until now had been silent, rose from his chair at the back of the room. He was shaking slightly, but his voice was quite level, with only the hint of a quaver in it.
"What do you mean?"
Dumbledore gave him a long look. "I will tell you, but first, I think it high time I made some knowledge that only Mr. Potter and I knew that, I think, ties in with what I am about to tell you." He waited for nods before continuing. "Very well. Here is the story: Nearly sixteen and a half years ago, in a room above the Hogs Head Inn, I had been having an interview for the position of Divination Teacher of Hogwarts. I had been turning to leave, after telling her that I did not think she would be suitable for the position. As I did, she did something I had not been expecting. She made a prophecy."
He stood and walked around the room to the countertop, where he had set his Pensieve previously. He made sure that everyone was watching before prodding the surface of the silver thoughts with the tip of his wand. At once, the figure of Professor Sibyl Trelawney, draped in her many shawls, and eyes magnified to enormous sized behind her huge, round glasses, spoke.
`THE ONE WHO HAS THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APROACHES…BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE THE POWER THE DRAK LORD KNOWS NOT…AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HAND OF THE OTHRE, FOR NEITHER CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES…THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DRAK LORD WILL BE BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…'
He spoke slowly. "This means that the boy who would have the power to kill Voldemort would be born at the end of July just over 16 years ago, that the Dark Lord would mark him, and that the only way that the light can win, is if he kills Voldemort, for no one else can. It speaks, of course…of Harry Potter."
He heard gasps come from around the room, and Lupin sat down heavily. Mrs. Weasley, on the other hand, began to sniff, getting a hug from her husband. After a moment, she spoke, anger creeping into her voice. "So this is why you always told him things he should never have known, treated him like an adult when he's only a-"
Dumbledore cut her off, but when he spoke, everyone in the room the sadness that was laced in his voice.
"He is not a child! Can't you see that, Molly? He bears more weight on his shoulders than anyone, including myself, in this room, and he does it admirably. I regret, now, that I did not tell him everything earlier, and that I did not tell him everything that was happening last year."
Mrs. Weasley stood now, a sob racking through her as she spoke. "How c-can you s-say t-t-that, Albus? He's o-only sixteen, after all."
"Yes, Molly he's only sixteen, but don't you think that sometimes, age doesn't always have to be the only factor in how much you can handle, how much you can cope, and how admirably you can deal with the things that come ones way in life? I should have realised it faster, and in not doing so, I tried to protect him by telling him nothing." Anger crept into his voice, now. "It was a fools mistake, Molly. A fools. And because of it, one of our number is DEAD."
His face softened. "Can you accept that, Molly?"
She nodded, a tear rolling silently down her cheek. "Yes. Yes. Of course, your right. Being stupid, that's all. I…I never saw it that way. Go on, tell us what you found out… Don't mind me…"
He nodded, and smiled slightly before continuing slowly. "What happened last night, I think is related to the prophecy I just showed you all. At exactly twenty minutes to nine o'clock, I was in my office, speaking to Professor Trelawney about whether or not she would like to be re-hired to the Divination job, and, in the end, we came to the decision that she would work jointly with Firenze, in the hope that the students would learn proper divination. As she was about to leave, the same thing happened. I was lucky enough to capture the memory in my Pensieve before it faded, though, so it is here with us in its entirety."
Again, he stood and walked to the counter, pulling out his wand as he went. He hesitated for a moment at the Pensieve before taking a deep breath and prodding his wand into the silvery gossamer strands for the second time that night. Again, Sibyl Trelawney rose out of the basin, revolving slightly, her feet in the shallow pool of thoughts, he hoarse voice echoing around the tightly packed room.
`TWO MEN OF DARKENED PAST,
BOTH SCARRED BY CURSED FOR FORTUNE,
FLAME AND SHADOW KNOWN,
SEVEN MORE BROUGHT FORTH BY FATE,
ELF AND MAN,
DWARF AND SHADE,
UNITED NINE,
DRAGON LORDS OF OLD,
AGAINST THE LORD AND KING,
DARK KING AND DARK LORD,
TWO WORLDS APART, TOGETHER,
SEPARATE, YET THE SAME,
THE TIDES TURNS BLACK,
THE EARTH RUNS RED,
THE FACE OF GOOD TURNS WHITE,
THEN TIDES WILL TURN,
WITH FIRST BATTLE FOUGHT,
AS WHITE GOES BLACK, AND BLACK TURNS WHITE,
AND WAR TURNS WHITE AND RED,
THE WARS ARE WAGED,
FOR WHITE AND BLACK,
WITH NONE TO LOSE AND ALL TO GAIN,
FOR BOTH,
AND THERE ARE NINE TO WIN, AND TWO TO LOSE,
IN TWO WARS FOUGHT AS ONE,
AND VICTORY COMES TO NINE OR TWO,
BUT ONE,
BUT EITHER WAY ALL IS RULED FOR ALL TO SEE,
FROM SEA TO SEA, AND LAND ALIKE,
TWO WORLDS APART,
YET ONE,
BY WHITE, YET BLACK,
AND BLACK, YET WHITE,
ALL SCARRED,
YET JOINED AS ONE,
DEXZARAN, SVIOR,
WIZARD, MAN,
RETUNRS ON NINTH MOON OF SECOND YEAR,
AS FULL TURNS TO WANING TO NEW AND WAX…'
---~*~---
Harry sat in the room with Tristan, both of them slowly watching the sun slide lower and lower in the sky until it had vanished behind the massive mountain that soared above them to the West.
Harry sighed suddenly, and Tristan looked up at him. "What's up, Harry?"
"I was just thinking about my godfather. He…died…just last month, and I-I still think about him all the time…" He sighed again.
"Tristan smiled sadly. "I know how you feel. That's how I felt when my uncle died a few years ago. The pain…it feels like your heart's going to be ripped apart, doesn't it?"
Harry nodded.
"A word of advise-," he said slowly, "-is to remember that no matter what, you'll see them all again one day, and that its better not to dwell on their deaths, but to dedicate your life so that you can make it better for everyone else before you leave as well. That's what my dad told me, and it was his brother, after all."
He took something out of his pocket, which Harry then saw was Tristan's wallet. Behind some crinkled old five pound notes was an old, yellowing card with blue writing on it. He handed the card to Harry to read.
On the card was a quote and some writing, all of which Harry immediately took to heart. Above the writing were a few words penned in reading `It is better not to dwell on death, but to strive for success, for both your benefit and others, and to dedicate it all to those you loved who have passed'.
Underneath was a quote.
`Success is to laugh often and to love much, to win the respect of intelligent persons and the affection of children, to earn the approbations of honest critics and to endure the betrayal of friends, to appreciate beauty, to find the best in everything, to give one's self, to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition, to have played and laughed with enthusiasm and to have sung with exaltation, to have known that even one life has breathed easier because you have lived.'
~Ralph Waldo Emerson
He smiled at Tristan, giving the card back to him. "Thanks, Tristan. That really makes it all seem more bearable."
Just as he was saying this, the doors at the end of the room opened again with a slight creak, and Osthato Chetowä, The Morning Sage, walked into the room, smiling.
"Have you decided?"
Harry thought for a moment and then spoke. "I have. If it can make the world safer, then I will do it, whatever it takes."
Tristan nodded behind him.
"Excellent. Then I will answer all of your questions, and then, we will get…started. Go ahead."
Harry spoke first. "Where are we. What is this place?"
"We stand in the fortress of Mal'daora, in the city of Ellesméra, the Elvin capital city. We lie in the Elvin nation of Du Weldenvarden, the Forest Land. To the south of us lies the Hadarac Deserts, to the far south, the Dwarven Kingdom in the Boer Mountains, and to the west and southwest, the Kingdom, and just below that, the Nation of Surda (a breakaway state of the Kingdom), and, finally, to the far east, out at sea, lies the Nation of Vroengard, the Isle of The Riders."
Tristan voiced next a concern that both he and Harry had been dwelling on but not voiced. "Will we ever be able to go home again?"
The man nodded. `Yes, but the secrets of how to do that have been predominantly lost in the flow of time, except for a few obscure clues. I am sure that you will be able to find it, it is just a question of where to look. Who knows, maybe you will find it on your own while here? It is just a matter of finding the key, as we already have the gate…"
This cryptic statement did not mean anything in the slightest to either Harry or Tristan, which the man obviously found out from the nonplussed looks both of them held.
Harry asked one question that had been on his mind for a while. "Who are the other chosen people?"
"Well, as you know the young man, Eragon. Also, there are his two companions, Arya, an elf, and Murtagh, a man like yourselves. Other than them, there are two other elves, Mathias, from the city of Osilon, and Feramir, from the city of Nädindel. After that, there is a dwarf by the name of Thrän from the Dwarven stronghold of Dalgon. And lastly, there is a renegade Shade by the name of Zorac from the Dark city of Dendrathon on the continent of Kera'zonas, the land of the Urgal. Does that answer your question sufficiently?"
"It does. What do we do now?"
He smiled. "I'm glad you have asked, rather than me introducing the subject. Now, we have business to attend to in the Tomb of Ferasmir.'
They stood and stood as he beckoned them to do so and followed him out of the room. As they turned the corner into the corridor, four Elvin guards in full armour fell into step next to them on either side.
They walked for a few minutes down the corridor before turning the corner to a wide door with two candles resting in sconces above the door. Currently a candle giving off green, shimmering light was glowing above the door, and one of the guards quickly opened the door and they piled into a seemingly empty room, with a door at either side and an old elf sitting on a bench in the middle inside a small alcove. As soon as they all piled into the room and shut the door he spoke in a rather bored voice.
"Where can I take you, eh?"
"The Entrance Hall, if you don't mind," Osthato replied.
The elf nodded sullenly and fiddled with something in front of him. Harry noticed that the doors in this room also had red and green candles above them, and as soon as the sage had spoken, the green candle over the door they had come in through extinguished itself abruptly and the red lit itself. Turning he saw the same thing happen in reverse above the opposite door. The elf looked up and spoke again.
"Right then. Entrance Hall it is. Please exit through the forward door. Have a nice evening, your lordships."
"Thanks," Harry said as he left.
They walked out into a long, grand hall filled with bustling elves, who, when they saw the sage, his companions, and the eight guards walking out of the elevator-like room, immediately made way for them, nodding respectfully at the sage and peering interestedly at the two young men following him. They ignored the guards completely, and the guards retuned the favour.
The moved silently to the far end of the room, where two massive oaken doors stood, their huge facade stretching up to the ceiling. The doors stood open, and they walked out into a large town square, small shops facing the hustle of the many elves going about their evening business. They followed a road that led toward the mountains that loomed above them, and, after a few blocks, came to the massive stone walls that surrounded the city. Directly in front of him was a set of steel gates, with multiple sets of huge iron deadbolts and cedar cross-bars which Harry imagined could keep out a small army by themselves. To either side of the gates was a tall watch tower, and on either side of those, Harry could see the massive walls stretching out around the upper part of the city.
As they neared the gates, the sage veered off to the left tower, coming to a stop at the door and turning to Harry, Tristan, and the eight guards who had accompanied them.
"Don't let anyone into this room until we come back out." They nodded and spread out around the tower. The Sage beckoned Harry and Tristan to follow him into the room, and they did, shutting the door behind him.
He turned to them as they entered. "We are about to go into the Tomb to retrieve some objects that we will need for you and the others. I will not tell you what they are now, but it will be obvious what they are when you see them. I need you to follow me in and keep quiet, as I do not want everyone to know we are here, alright?"
They nodded and he turned to the floor in the middle of the room. He raised his right hand and pointed it at a section of the room where the floor boards were cut into a small square.
"Wëldos reisa!" At once the square section of floorboards rose silently into the air and deposited themselves onto the remaining floor, leaving a square, stone hole wide enough for a man to lower himself into.
Inside the hole, one could see an iron ladder held into the wall with metal pegs. Harry got onto his knees and began to lower himself into the hole, but just before he did, pulled out his wand, lit it with a muttered `Lumos' to the astounded watch of Tristan and a mildly interested look from the Sage, and then lower himself into the hole, keeping one hand on his wand and the other on the ladder.
He discovered while climbing down that there were small candle brackets every few feet, apparently to provide lighting while either descending or ascending the ladder, but they had long since been used up, and only the candle ends remained.
After a minute or so of descending into the rock of the cliffs, his feet suddenly met resistance when trying to move down, and, when he moved his wand to look down, found him correct when thinking he had come, finally, to the bottom. He stepped off the ladder and backed up to the wall to make room for the Sage and Tristan, who came to the bottom a few seconds after each other.
Osthato turned to the side, which Harry had taken to be a wall, but was actually a stout wooden door with no handle. Instead, the Sage merely pushed it with his hand and muttered something Harry did not catch, and the door swung, silently open to reveal a long corridor.
Harry shined his wand into the corridor to find a oil lamp hanging from the ceiling. He pointed his wand at it and muttered, `Inflamare'. A white hot ball of flame hurtled out of his wand at the lamp, lighting it at the top before bouncing down the corridor, lighting up other laps which were obviously there but he could not see. With light now shining in the area, he extinguished his wand with a soft `Nox'.
At the end of the corridor, he saw a soft blue, flickering light, and he headed towards it at a fast walk, the Sage and Tristan following him at his heels. When he got to the end of the corridor, the space widened into a wide stone room, though it was more like a cake than anything else, he turned his eyes to the source of the light, and found himself staring at the back of what was obviously the back of the waterfall he had seen from his room earlier, though the roar of the water seemed to be masked somehow.
The Sage walked around him and farther into the room, and Harry and Tristan followed him slowly, looking around themselves in wonder.
Osthato walked silently past a plinth topped with a stone casket, nodding in respect at it before turning to something that stood in the very back of the room. As Harry approached it, he saw that it was a wooden cabinet. The sage carefully opened the doors.
Inside, sitting carefully on a long strip of cushioning, were eight, large, shining eggs. Dragon Eggs.
---~*~---
A/N: Well. That's the third chapter. I know I said, I'd have it out by Mon-Wed, but I had some last minute changes to do. And, to be honest, I did have it done, all in all, last night, but I didn't have time to post it. So…Sorry.
This chapter is exactly 5300 words, which is more than the normal 4400 I usually write, so I hope the extra 900 words will make up for it.
---NOTE TO ALL READERS---
This Chapter is the last that will be posted before or during the week of August 28-Sptember 6. I have a mandatory trip I have to make and will, therefore, not be able to update until around September 14, when posting will resume weekly/bi-weekly (most likely the latter, as work returns to full-scale after the laps that takes place in mid-summer, and time is allocated, as much as I don't like it, to my work and fics go to back-burner).
Thanks for being patient, and I promise that I will update, I'll just be about every 1-2 weeks rather than every 3-4 days.
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Cheers!
The one,
The only,
SilverDagger
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