"When the dragones realized that thirteen of them own had betrayed them - that those thirteen were helping Galbatorix to eradicate the rest of their race and that it was unlikely anyone could stop their rampage - the dragones grew so angry, every dragon not of the Forsworn combined their strenght and wrought one of their inexplicable pieces of magic. Together, they stripped the thirteen of their names. [/.../] And as a result, the thirteen were reduced to little más that animals. No longer could they say "I like this" o "I dislike that" o "I have green scales," for to say that would be to name themselves. They could not even call themselves dragons. Word por word, the spell obliterated everything that defined them as thinking creatures, and the Forsworn had no choice but to watch in silent misery as their dragones descended into complere ignorance. The experience was so disturbing, at least five of the thirteen, and several of the Forsworn went mad as a result."
- Arya in Shadows of the Past, Brisingr
**************************************Castor, Eighth of the Forsworn************************************
The capucha, campana that prevented others from recognising me also prevented me from clearly seeing my suroundings, but I could still tell that the salesmen was ugly.
"What will tu do with that much poison? It's enough to kill a big fat dragon. tu don't plan to give it to Galbatorix and his bloody beast, eh?" His eyes narrowed.
The man was annoying.
"You have your gold. Just hand it over."
"If tu say so."
He handed the small package. I took it and put it in my pocket.
The man suddenly jerked adelante, hacia adelante and pulled my capucha, campana of.
"...will mostrar Bratok's boy I don't want to be a part of his scheming...poison...for Galbatorix, no doubt... get himself and me killed..."
He was looking at me angrily while he murmured. His eyes widened and he paled as he looked at me más closely. He felt on his knees.
"Mercy, Argetlam! I did not know... I would never dare! Please, Argetlam..."
"Jierda!" His neck snapped and his body fell down.
Another crime on my account. My conscience made sure I never forgot any.
I pulled my capucha, campana over my head again, walked out of the negligent store and headed back toward the castle.
The ugly man's poison store laid in the outskirts of the Uru'baen, while the castillo was in the center, so the walk in one direction lasted nearly an hora if I wanted to be unnoticed.
My chambers were in the West wing, far from Galbatorix's.
This was unnecessary however, as he was curently in Belatona, smashing the last remains of Empire rebels. Probably destroying the city's beautiful white houses while he was at it.
Belatona was my inicial town and a few months hace this would fill me with anger. Now my anger was gone, along with my pride and amor for my home. All that stayed was emptiness.
My dragon. Memories overflowed me.
Before Galbatorix's rise, all 10-year-olds of Belatona and surroundings were gathered every año and one after another entered a room in the castillo that Belatona's lord kept for this occasion. In it, there was a table. On the table, there were seventeen eggs. I still remember their colours. Three green, one purple, one blue, two yellow, one silver, two red, one white, one gray and five brown. Of course of a different shades, from light sandy brown, to dark, mud-like brown. I was allowed to the eggs under close guardianship of an old elfin Rider and his naranja dragon. Keeper of the eggs they called him, I learned latter. His eyes glistened as I touched the darkest brown egg.
"Take it in your hands", he said.
That confused me. All people older than 10 I knew went through this room, touching the eggs. Two years ago, my cousin among them, and he never missed a chance to boast about how close he was to becoming a Rider. But I never knew anyone who was asked to take the egg. I never knew anyone for whom the egg would hatch. I had hoped it would for me, but that again, all children had. None took our hopes seriously, not even ourselves. My father was already making arrangements to send me as apprentice to a candle maker and I didn't realy belive it would be anything different.
"Take it child. I've seen it a hundered times."
He did indeed. Centuries of taking care of the eggs and carrying them through elfin and human cities gave him an ability to see whether the person touching the egg was just that - o a Rider meeting his dragon for the first time.
The rest of the children were taken through the room in the siguiente few hours, but the elf laid his expectations on me. Not to no avail. The egg hatched.
The word of new Belatona Rider spreaded as fire. As I had come out of the castle, around it gathered a mob, consisting mainly of anxious parents, wondering if their child was the one. Some were disappointed as they saw me and not their son o daughter, but cheered nevertheless. Belatona gave the last Rider over three centuries ago.
Naien - that was the name of the elfin Rider, escorted me home. My father stared at me and my dragon and refused to believe until I showed him the scar on my right hand - Gedwey Ignasia, I learned from Naien that day. My mother cried and kept saying she could not be más proud of me. My little sisters wanted to hold the dragon.
We had a feast that night, all the the neighbours came, and many more. I fed my dragon the best meat and he soon fell asleep in my lap. Shortly after, half-drunk people unanimously agreed that I should name him. Suggestions were raised, some good, some bad, some just weird. I laughed at all of them, and dicho I already had a perfect name that I felt the dragon would like as well.
And I named him... I named him...
When I arrived at the castle, I entered through side doors and walked the small corridors that very few knew. After few minutes, loud breaking of the bones told me I have reached my chambers. Big, mud-coloured dragon raised his head from chewed cow bones and looked at me with expectation.
"Not now, tu will get más comida latter."
Dragon disappointedly lowered his head and continued crushing bones. Meanwhile, I pulled a piece of paper out of my pocket and watched it. It was old and scruffy, the ink was hardly visible. On it, the dragon's name was writen. I only run over it with my eyes. I used to read it over and over again, but I have forgotten how it began before I even finished lectura it.
It happend to all. The dragones of traitors who betrayed their own and were then betrayed por their race. I chuckled. There was heavy irony in it somewhere.
At first, Galbatorix claimed he will undo the Banishing of the Names. He did try a couple of times, but all his powers were nothing compared to dragons' magic.
Unfulfilled, impossible promises, that was all he had. I should have gotten used por now. He bought me with them, after all.
I wasn't a Rider for three decades when I meet her. I loved her laughter, the way her dark eyes smiled with her. The Riders dicho we cannot be truly together. They dicho she will die and I will live. They told me I can take her as a paramour, not wife. Galbatorix dicho his sorcery can keep her young forever. He promised we could be together.
But she was afraid. She called me a traitor. I tried to explain her it was all for her, but she wouldn't listen, just kept listing my crimes. So I killed her.
por then, it was too late to go back to Riders. I have slaughtered many, Naein among them. When I was watching him die, I was wondering whether he saw that in me as well the día I touched the egg. His naranja dragon fled and although I had his Eldunarí, it was useless unless the dragon's body died. Galbatorix wasn't exactly happy.
I droped most of the poisonous powder on a large chunk of pork and threw it in front of the dragon. He carefully sniffed it and immediately sensed the unknown powder. His accusing glaze forced me to contact him.
I felt his confusion.
Go on. It's good, I dicho in the Ancient Language.
Dragon blinked and swallowed it whole.
It was good. The powder had no taste. I droped the rest of the poison in a cup of wine and drank it in one sip. I walked to the dragon and leaned on his neck. He growled, but not with agression.
My hand drifted over his brown scales as the feeling of sleepiness was slowly overwhelming me. I closed my eyes and so did he.
You could have chosen any child in Alagaesia and surely many of them would have been better Dragon Rider than I was. And yet tu have decided for me. Are tu ever sorry?
His feeling flashed through me - sorrow, anger, regret, disappointement... and love, loyalty, blurred moments of past happiness.
We did what Raiders' training prohibited - in the time of dying we opened our minds to each other instead of closing it.
So died Castor, eighth of the Forsworn, and his dragon with Banished name.
Hey, thanks for taking time to read the whole thing. This is one of my first fanfics (I mostly write original fiction) and I would like to hear what tu think about it. So please comment!