An emptiness enveloped Murtagh, one he knew all too well from Galbatorix himself when he invaded his mind. At first, the Rider felt absolutely nothing regarding his surroundings or himself. Gradually, he got the impression that he existed in a real world again, and this impression was reinforced by a voice that expressed anger, sorrow, and despair all at once. As a result, he remembered his senses and tried to gather a clear thought.
"Dorn? Are you somewhere here?"
"Murtagh! How are you? Can you move? If so, get out of this infernal cave!"
"Calm down, I'm fine. I just need a moment to gather myself."
"No! Get out of there immediately, or I'll drag you out of this damn hole myself!"
Indeed, these were not empty words. Murtagh desperately tried to move, and when he opened his eyes, he was sure that he still didn't have a clear mind. What he saw was almost impossible, for Dorn was stuck in the ceiling of the chamber with his entire body. Apparently, he had attempted to break through the top to come to the aid of his unconscious Rider. However, the red giant had miscalculated and found himself wedged in the opening with his body.
"Don't move, Big One. I'll help you as soon as I can move somewhat again."
"That's easy for you to say! Draw strength from me and get out of the cave. I'll manage on my own!"
Murtagh was certain that he couldn't argue back since he felt the desperation of his soul companion all too well. So, he did as he was instructed. After agonizing minutes of draining his strength, the Rider managed to recover enough to make his way out into the open. Despite the danger of being scolded by his dragon, Murtagh loosened the ceiling with a spell, allowing Dorn to free himself.
"What actually happened, Dorn? You witnessed the events."
"I'm not exactly sure. I didn't see or sense more than you did, but after you lost consciousness, a strange shadow fled from the cave. I attacked it, but my fire passed through it as if this creature didn't exist at all."
"That's practically impossible! There's only one creature I know of that doesn't react to physical interactions, and that's a spirit, which takes the form of light spheres."
"Who knows what other dark or light creatures exist in the world. We should report this to your half-brother. Perhaps he knows what happened here."
Murtagh had feared that his dragon would make this suggestion. He wanted to remain as anonymous as possible to everyone and everything until he had tracked down the remaining Ra'zac and wiped them from the face of Alagaësia. Despite his reservations, he had to report this incident to someone, as he and Dorn couldn't do anything about it. However, no one should know about this incident arbitrarily, as it could lead to unrest or, at worst, panic. When Murtagh reached his dragon outside, he rummaged laboriously through the saddlebags for his blank parchments. But before he could pull out a single one, Dorn interrupted him and urged his Rider to use the mirror. Reluctantly, he listened to his soul companion, as he was already in a very bad mood, and retrieved a small handheld mirror, casting the spell for two-way dream sight. After a few moments, the inside of the mirror turned a clear white color since the Red Rider didn't know the surroundings of his half-brother. He was about to dissolve the spell when a more than sorrowful familiar figure trudged into his field of view. Murtagh observed his half-brother for a while as he sat down in the white surroundings, burying his face in his hands.
"My vision may not be the best, but I believe you're currently worse off than I am."
As Murtagh spoke, Eragon jolted his head up and looked around. His expression hardened once he realized someone was calling him through the mirror. Saphira had to snap him out of his trance for him to gather his thoughts and respond to the voice.
"You know me, brother. I attract problems as well as flowers attract bees."
"Indeed, Eragon. Do you have a moment? I have some important information for you."
"Go ahead. Dealing with other people's problems seems to be my specialty ever since I became a Rider."
Murtagh didn't miss the sarcastic undertone, but he didn't dwell on it since he had no interest in prolonging the conversation. He proceeded to recount the recent events to Eragon.
"That was indeed a peculiar creature. I'll try to find out more and take appropriate action. By the way, what led you to visit a remote island? Does it have something to do with the Ra'zac? Nasuada and Roran have informed me about a few things."
"So, I've been exposed in Ilirea, huh? Well, doesn't matter now. I'm currently following one of the two leads we have on the Ra'zac, and it led me here. If I have any updates, I'll inform Nasuada."
"Whatever you think is best. Even though I may not look like it at the moment, you can always reach out to me if you have problems. You don't have to go through such complicated means to pass on information."
"That's my concern, and it seems like you have enough problems of your own at the moment. I'll take my leave now."
"Take care, brother."
Murtagh released the spell and packed his mirror back into the saddlebags. He and Dorn sat together for a while, regaining their strength. Meanwhile, the exhausted Rider had to endure a severe reprimand from his dragon, filled with admonitions and doomsday scenarios. After an hour of accusations and rants from Dorn, they agreed to set up their camp in Uden to avoid potential dangers. They left the matter of the altar and the strange creature entirely to Eragon. The next day, they would fly back to the mainland and meet their furry companion in Surda.
He still calls me "brother" after all this time...
The smell of strong decay reached Grimrr. After the werecat gained access through one of the barred dungeon windows, he perceived the pungent odor that he had already experienced in the dungeons of Arough. However, the smell was much stronger in these catacombs. Grimrr couldn't yet determine the reason for it. His natural instincts urged him to quickly leave this place, but his pride as the leader of his people suppressed those instincts.
Disguised in darkness, the furry creature wandered through the winding corridors, and the longer he roamed, the stronger a feeling grew within him, one that he hadn't experienced in a long time and therefore couldn't identify. After passing through a stone archway, the overwhelming stench of decay became unbearable. Despite the darkness of this place, the werecat, with his naturally sharper eyes, recognized that he was in a large circular room. Upon closer inspection of his surroundings, he faintly noticed strange movements. Suddenly, the otherwise fearless creature realized that the vague feeling that plagued him resembled fear.
Several dark figures were assembling large and small indistinguishable objects in the center of the room. As Grimrr approached the growing mound, the pungent smell overwhelmed him, and all at once, he realized that the figures were carrying limbs and bodies. Disgusted but as quietly as he could, he turned around and made his way back to the exit.
Shortly after passing through the stone archway again, a harsh screech emanated from the direction of the pile of corpses, causing every hair on Grimrr's four-legged body to stand on end. Reflexively, Grimrr pressed himself against the wall of the corridor he was in and looked back.
How could those black pests of half-creatures have spotted me?!
Without thinking much and against all caution, the werecat sprinted away. He had no chance against multiple Ra'zac at once. After a brief minute filled with haste and fear, Grimrr found himself in a smaller, open dungeon cell, and before he realized his mistake of being trapped in a dead end, he could already hear the wild, guttural cries of his pursuers. Panicked, he looked around for an escape route but couldn't find one. Just as he was about to prepare for a hopeless fight, he heard a faint rustling from within the room. Startled, he looked around and froze at the sight of a severely disfigured human lying on a low cot. Without much thought, Grimrr jumped up and desperately squeezed his body behind the human's. To counter the growing movements of the person, the werecat sent his spirit towards them, making it clear that he was not an enemy and that the person should calm down, as the Ra'zac were running towards their direction. To Grimrr's relief, the person's movements ceased, and he controlled his breathing, not making a sound.
After several agonizing minutes, the malicious sounds of the Ra'zac faded away, as they only found the motionless figure of a human during their search of the dungeon cell. The werecat breathed a temporary sigh of relief.
"Thank you very much, stranger, for granting me shelter."
"Enemies of the Ra'zac are friends of mine, stranger."
The imprisoned person's telepathic voice was almost too weak to understand, exuding a sense of despair but also relief at getting the chance to engage in a conversation once again.
