Level Up Legacy

Yuran watched Princess Tiara sitting beside Arthur Silvera, watching over him and healing him when needed. She drank, ate, and said nothing since her conversation with Oren.

“She needs to eat something,” said Yuran to Alan, who was sharpening his sword on the ground. “I understand Oren’s reason for overlooking his brother, but why is she so devoted to Arthur?”

“Jealousy is an ugly thing, my prince,” said Alan on the ground with a smile. Yuran glared at him, seeming moments from stabbing him. “I kid, my prince. I know that your gratitude to Arthur Silvera runs deep. How is my lady?”

“She gets healthier by the day, and thanks to Arthur Silvera, she no longer suffers from the darkness. Her consciousness, however, remained absent.”

“A blessing is still a blessing. It might be the guilt that keeps her asleep,” said Alan as he sheathed his sword. “You must get some rest, my prince.”

“I hate that title, and you know it,” said Yuran as he walked to stand above Alan. “My mother did nothing wrong.”

“Only you believe so,” replied Alan. “She knew it, and I advised her against it, but she still took you to that orphanage anyway. However, I never blamed her because the Mad Father forced her.”

“Don’t say his name,” said Yuran with a frown. Alan was silent before he nodded. “Mother knew he would kill me if she refused, so she had to do something.”

“Choices and choices, but who shoulders the blame?” said Alan as he stood and patted Yuran’s shoulder. “You found love, my prince. Don’t fall back into the dark past, and walk toward a brighter future.”

“You are not the one to speak, Alan. You’ve thrown your future the moment you decided to follow a cripple,” said Yuran to the departing knight, but the latter merely waved his hand.

“Choices and choices, but that’s the beauty of it.”

Alan walked away, heading toward the first layer again. Yuran couldn’t understand what a knight had in common with gobkins, but he seemed to get along with them. Most of their time was spent talking over wine around bonfires.

Left alone, Yuran had time to adjust his clothing before going into the grand chambers, where Arthur and Tiara were. He stood beside the bed and stared at Arthur, whose condition seemed to be the same.

“Is he going to live?” asked Yuran with worry. Tiara smiled and offered her hand to him, and Yuran gave her his. She guided his fingers to feel Arthur’s pulse, forceful and powerful.

“He is far from dying, but we have no idea when he will wake up,” said Tiara as Yuran retracted his hand. “The outsider will never rest. He is still fighting a battle against himself.”

“The rest of us don’t need to do the same,” said Yuran, and Tiara turned toward him. “Let me cook something for you, a breakfast or a dinner, whatever you like. You’ve been sitting here for hours.”

“I never leave my patient once I decide to treat him,” said Tiara with a smile. “Have I ever told you about the time I got sick?”

“No, I’m afraid not.”

“I was ten years old when I fell with a terrible fever. My mother, Queen of Janea, was known as the divine healer at that time. There was no illness that she didn’t have an herb to cure or a potion to eradicate. However, she was helpless.”

“What caused it?” asked Yuran with a frown.

“A broken heart,” said Tiara with a smile. “I have had dreams ever since I was a child about a being who was neither a man nor woman and loved another very dearly. Yet, he couldn’t be with them, and his heart remains broken.”

“You are talking about the Healer Guardian,” said Yuran with a frown. Tiara raised a brow at him, and he explained how he knew. “Arthur made sure that we understood our situation once we joined his cause. He told us that both men and gods would seek to kill us.”

“A poetic man he is,” said Tiara with a smile as she caressed his cheek. “The person that the Healer Guardian held affection to was the outsider, the same person before us.”

“Was it love?” asked Yuran with slight discomfort as he watched her fingers run down his jaw.

“A higher being wouldn’t feel love in the sense we know,” explained Tiara. “He found the outsider perfect, in strength and kindness, and wished to remain in his company. He didn’t mind whether he was a lover, a brother, or a friend.”

“That is a strange kind of love.”

“It is the purest of love,” said Tiara with a sigh. “Lyari wanted nothing but the company of the outsider, but things didn’t go as planned. Ultimately, he was foolish to believe the outsider wanted the same and risked everything to obtain a world for the two of them.”

“The deal they made with Nameless,” muttered Yuran as he lowered his eyes toward his hands. “The guardians wanted to trade our world for a smaller one, where each could be a god.”

“Their world was far from being kind. Have you ever heard about the Rise of Gods?” asked Tiara, but Yuran shook his head. “It is an ancient story, where one cannot decide whether it’s a myth or truth.”

“What is it?”

“The guardians were humans once, who rose against the old gods, known as calamities now,” said Tiara with a smile. Yuran watched with surprise before she met his gaze. “The ancient gods ruled the ancient people before the ancient people rose against them and overthrew their rule.”

“That sounds…”

“Like a legend, no more,” nodded Tiara with a smile as her green eyes watched the outsider. “However, these are the words of my ancestor, Lyari. He said the guardians were not sinful but only wanted to rescue those who followed them and their families. Is that a sin?”

“The world is cruel, and with dangers looming around, we tend to prioritize those we love,” replied Yuran as his eyes reflected the flames. Then, he turned toward her and continued, “Thus, I will bring your food here for you.”

After that, Yuran stood to leave while Tiara smiled. The Princess remained watching Arthur, whose frown deepened with time. Then, Yuran heard her whisper as he left the room.

“What do you see, old friend?”

***

Arthur raised his hammer and struck the hot iron, slowly forming a sword. He couldn’t remember when he started hammering, but the end was close. As the blade began to take shape, the fire burned brighter.

“How much longer?” a soft voice asked from the chair, but Arthur couldn’t see who it was. He didn’t reply but kept hammering away. Then, finally, the voice continued, “We need to leave.”

“I have work to do,” replied Arthur after a short while, and the voice grew quiet. Then, as he struck the iron for the hundredth time, something grabbed his shirt from behind. Arthur stopped and turned around.

“Come with me to the wedding,” said the woman, whose face could not be seen. “You have hidden for quite a while, Eragon. The people would forget that you exist.”

“My name is…” objected Arthur before growing quiet, “…Eragon.”

“I know that you silly little thing. Why wouldn’t I know my brother’s name?” asked the woman, whose face grew clearer. Arthur stared at her with a frown because he couldn’t recognize her, but something within him ached. “We need to leave.”

The woman pulled him out of the darkroom and into the sunlight. Arthur squinted his eyes with confusion as the bright sun struck his skin. He then looked down at the woman holding his rough fingers with her soft hand.

“Where are we going?”

“Have you forgotten?” the woman smiled, her short, curly ginger hair swaying with her head. “Today is my wedding. You promised that you would be here.”

“I… don’t belong there,” Arthur heard himself say, and the woman paused. Then, she turned around toward him with a sad face.

“You belong where I belong, Eragon. From now on, this will be my home, and we can live without having to work again. Lord Peter will be kind to us.”

Arthur felt his heart ache again but still allowed her to take him through the streets. There was a burning flame in his heart as he watched her talk about how she had dreamt of this wedding and how kind the lord was to her.

The city was full of people, but Arthur couldn’t see any of them. They were shadows passing by, only to fade into each other. Arthur felt his heart tremble as the two walked through the city toward a castle.

“What is this feeling?” asked Arthur as he stared at his hand shaking. “This boiling feeling in my heart… What is it?”

It felt as if his chest was on fire, but Arthur soon remembered what it was. He had felt this before, and it was what sought to consume him. It was wrath.