Flavia Ungarelli 9BThe Ashes of EravanThe gale howled chaotically like an enraged beast, uncontainable and wild. Its roar was like a ferocious growl that echoed through the valleys, dominating the night and unleashing fear into even the most valiant of hearts. Thick fog suffocated the mountain ranges and gave the cobalt blue sky an eerie look. The moons radiance was dimmed, as if it was trying in vain to fight the engulfing tendrils that had invaded her once unquestionable reign. Two figures stumbled blindly forward on the mountain ranges, they staggered at every gust, and hffrdtheir cloaks waved frantically at the winds mercy. One was tall and slender with a high bearing even in such a desperate condition, pointy ears and long, flowing, platinum-blonde hair. The other one was slightly broader with tangled, dishevelled coal-black hair and a short beard flecked with grey. His eyes were cold and fierce and the iron grey iris glimmered with the reflection of the declining moon as he scrutinized the ridges for a cavity that could offer the slightest protection from the skys wrath.His gaze fell on a spark in the midst of the confusion and just before it died out he met his companions stare: hope, disarray and dread wrestled in his expression. Then, a dark shape in the distance emerged from the mist. It was flying towards them, growing in size gradually, like a blot of ink expanding on parchment. Its movements were full of strain but every so often the mist around it would light up with astounding flames, looking even more intimidating, like the ruby-red fumes in hell. The travellers welcomed the sight of another living creature, however distant, and especially of heat. Their hearts fed on the sight before them and warmed up, but their faces remained rosy, their cloaks moist and they kept on trudging along heavily as if their packs and limbs had turned to lead. There was a sudden flash, chaos and then the broadest fell. His worn-out, leather boot was caught in a crack and he grasped at his companions forearm desperately. Thunder shook the valley violently and the two tumbled down submissively, bending to the almighty will of fate. For in that moment the rocks beneath them gave way and they plummeted down, into the belly of their saviour. The drop was short but their bodies flopped to the ground exhausted and without a glance around fell in a longed slumber. A serpent of mist slithered through the entrance, it hissed, a low drone that echoed through the cavern. Tendrils of its body travelled to the sleeping forms and surrounded them, studying them uneasily. The mist settled down, creating a white aura and making everything feel altered and peculiar, like when you wake up at dawn to find that the world outside your window is no longer colourful and lively but rather austere and majestic, almost intimidating as the queen of winter rules over it.Golden rays penetrated the cave triumphantly, winning over darkness. Through their eyelids, the travellers could make out the brightly coloured radiance and feel its warm, gentle touch on their faces. They blinked instinctively and their lips widened to let a yawn through, they opened their eyes completely and only then became conscious of a dark shape obstructing the light. The figure was kneeling on the ground, his sword was glimmering in his lap and his eyebrows were knitted together as he brought his right hand up to cover the blinding sun light in his eyes. One moment the three of them were resting calmly, the next, they were at each others throats. It was with a flash of steel that their swords were unsheathed and with a clang, powerful like thunder, that they collided. What happened next was neither expected nor explainable, the three deadly weapons released a bizarre force, and buzzing with energy, they blasted their owners backwards violently. The ferocity turned to startle in the mens faces as they crumpled to the ground until only fear became visible in their eyes. They just shook with sweat dripping from their foreheads and their chin resting on their chest for some minutes. The first to recover was the mysterious stranger, then the one with the platinum-coloured hair who stood and stared straight into his rivals eyes. They were hazel coloured with amber streaks, warm and deep, the impression they gave you was of trustworthiness, with just a slight gleam of mischief, they were in contrast with his pale skin tone. He had a prominent cheekbone and the angles of his face were sharp, his eyes were slanted and his ears were pointy. His hair was honey-blonde, overgrown and tousled and he was tall and muscular but at the same time elegant. Some features were much like elves but he wasnt as lean as one and his face wasnt as impassive, it wasnt hard to read his quizzical face: you could see trouble in his furrowed brow and sympathy in his knowing smile. He wore a sleeveless, leather coat which was tattered and worn out, a cream coloured shirt and beige, tight trousers. Neither of them dropped their challengers piercing gaze and as the contest went on time seemed to freeze and silence took over the cave, creating an unnerving and uncomfortable sense of emptiness. Finally they exhaled deeply, realizing they had been holding their breath to avoid disrupting the enchantment that hung all about them, the enchantment of silence, and both of them simultaneously, they extended their arms to shake hands. Im Legolas and this is my friend Aragorn, were from Middle Earth. Aragorn nodded in approval, deciding to trust the stranger, and pulled himself up, relying on the cave wall for support. Im Eragon Bromsson, from Alagaesia. Replied Eragon, he decided against adding the list of titles he had been assigned because his plain name felt warm and reassuring in his mouth, not entirely comfortable, but right. The acknowledgement to his father, Brom, made him puff his chest out in pride more than any of his achievements but sorrow always followed it, flooding his mind as he longed for the time he could never spend with his father.A loud thump shook the mountain vigorously and a moan, that sounded much like the purring of a cat amplified one hundred times, boomed through the opening of the cave. Aragorn and Legolas retreated into the shadows, Aragorn unsheathed his sword hesitantly and Legolas loaded his slender, wooden bow with a swift movement of his arm, aiming towards the imminent threat. A chuckle escaped Eragons throat as he pushed a jet of opaque steam away from his face with his hand, then, a massive jaw appeared through the entrance. It had sapphire-blue scales of all the possible shades which shifted in colour according to the light and the movements and the tensing of muscle. They gleamed and shimmered, merging together perfectly and forming what looked like sapphire chainmail. The creatures fangs glowed with a pearly radiance and its nostrils flared. The introduction was kept short, the creature was a dragon called Saphira and Eragon was her rider, which basically meant soul mate as the two could share thoughts and emotions. While Aragorn and Legolas were bursting with questions, they realized that their encounter with Eragon and Saphira couldnt be casual, it almost felt as if the four of them were bonded by supernatural forces and that there was a quest awaiting them. Aragorns hand went to his chest, he felt the pendant he wore around his neck and suddenly its weight seemed unbearable, he felt it grow hot and in his mind he replayed the foreboding sentence that had come with it: The world shall crumble in your hands, but remember the tool you have at our disposal; trust. Coming back to his senses he followed the suggestion, hoping no one had noticed the motion of his arm. Were looking for the underground temple of Eravan, where the rivers flow with moonlight, the trees grow from ashes, the birds suavely whistle tunes long forgotten and the sands of time flow endlessly in the hourglass that lies forgotten on the blood-stained, platinum altar of fate. Aragorn blurted out, all in one breath. Legolas gaped, startled by the blunt confession whilst Eragon reflected on the sentence, weighing his possible answers. Going for the clearest and most truthful option he replied: I am too. Powerful forces are stirring beneath the ground, devastating every land, affecting the climate and creating unrestrainable storms and winds. The power is radiated by the temple of Eravan which lies a few miles northwest and can easily be reached through a system of underground tunnels that we can access from this very cave. Eragon straightened the bow he carried across his back casually but as no one took over the conversation he continued. Saphira will go back to where I live to get reinforcements while we can proceed together to the temple and face the threats that lie ahead of us. That is if you have no objection. There were in fact no objections and the departure was set at about nine oclock which left them with an hour to replenish their energies and eat breakfast. They only realized how famished they were when Saphira dropped two dead hares through the opening of the cave. To Legolass pleasure she also provided them with a whole branch of edible, red, wild berries that he ate with the dry bread he carried with him. Through the whole meal, Eragon appeared deep in thought and his eyes stared blankly as if his mind was somewhere else as perhaps it really was, while it followed Saphiras progress in her flight. Legolas and Aragorn were just as taciturn at first, fully concentrated on the food before them but soon the air relaxed and they started a conversation. When everything was packed and settled they walked to the furthest end of the cave and without having to remove any rocks or debris, found a doorway. The arch had a typical gothic shape, pointed at the top like bunny-rabbit ears and blood-coloured rubies were imbedded around it, in the cave wall. Symbols were etched in an archaic language and though they couldnt understand them, the meaning was most likely something intimidating and threatening. Aragorn lead the way and in a first moment, as he passed the threshold, he was overwhelmed by the grandeur and splendour that met his eyes. Then his heart skipped a beat and his knees buckled as he understood the true hostility of the sight, how ghastly and grim it all was. Wide halls, stone staircases and landings, all merged together in an intricate labyrinth, fascinating, but deadly. There were stone gargoyles with menacing grimaces, onyx statues of dwarves and elves that smirked spitefully and every wall was carved with other vicious creatures. Even the handrails resembled tree branches with elaborate leaves. The result was eerie and mysterious and particularly peculiar, considering they had built it underground, in a deserted mountain range. Eragon was the first who realized the golden chandeliers that adorned the halls and the solemn but vivacious flames that danced around every wick and a shiver travelled down his spine. The candles were barely consumed, as if they hadnt been burning for long and they stirred a deep sense of uneasiness in Eragons stomach. Aragorn took one step forward reluctantly and this single footstep echoed, like the ring of the clapper against brass bells, propagating forwards into the unknown. He proceed but after just a few paces flinched for his ears filled with the macabre melody of a choir of millions of whispers. The voices touched his heart and suddenly he felt deep melancholy, he longed for the open skies, the embrace of the wind and the fresh scent of meadows. With a sudden surge of newfound energy he strode forwards and without acknowledging his friends started the descent. Legolas trusted Aragorns instincts blindly and after assuring Eragon that Aragorn knew what he was doing, the two of them followed. Eragon had the impression that Aragorn was in a trance and that someone was guiding him through the maze, then he discovered a pattern to his movements: he always followed the paths where the handrails resembled gigantic ferns. The winding path seemed to go infinitely onwards and the scenery barely ever changed. After almost an hour Eragon decided to stop, to catch his breath. Just then Legolas shrieked loudly, a two meter long serpent was leaping towards him with its mouth open and its fangs and tongue out, ready to pierce flesh. Eragon outstretched his arm, pointing towards it with his open hand and yelled Brisingr, blasting the creature backwards in mid-air with a sphere of fire and incinerating it on the spot. Legolas straightened up, possibly more shaken by the use of magic than by his close encounter with death, and was thanking Eragon when Aragorn announced that they had reached their destination. The staircase widened at the bottom, at each end of the last step, there were two jet-black panthers. They merged into the darkness, as if they were insubstantial, made simply of darkness, just like shadows, patrolling the deep, gloomy caverns. Aragorn paced towards one of them hesitantly and extended his right arm forward. After gazing at the creatures eyes, hypnotized by the subtleness of the features, he brought his palm down onto its back and felt the cold, polished stone, following the stream-line shape of its backbone. Halfway across he stopped abruptly, his fingertip perceived a flaw, a scratch etched in the statue that appeared so faultless and inhumanly accurate. He followed it, like a blind man deciphering Braille symbols, and found himself tracing a backwards S. He put more pressure and pushed downwards. Immediately he felt his finger sting and he jolted back instinctively, though not rapidly enough to avoid a sensation of searing pain to travel from his finger to his brain and to his toes, a bolt of lightning that electrified him and made his insides churn with uneasiness.The chequered tiles shifted jaggedly and holes opened on the floor, dust filled the air, intoxicating their lungs and they choked on their own strangled coughs. They kept their eyes tight shut and crouched while despair, anxiety and tension knotted their stomach. Aragorn felt a weight on his conscious feeling responsible for anything that could happen and for one short instant the image of his love, Arwen, colonised his mind. He would have sworn he saw her eyebrows were knitted, reproaching his childish behaviour. If his heart had his own consciousness it probably would have abandoned his chest right then, to float out in search of its second half, its restraints did not although prevent it from summersaulting for the joy of even just looking upon the blushes on Arwens cheeks. The thrusts and jolts coming from underneath the ground stopped and the dizziness, clouding Aragons thoughts soon diminished. With horror he realised the place had gone completely dark and he yelled his companions names futilely. The words were consumed by silence and received no response. His fist slammed against the ground rashly and he broke down. The truth hit him square, he would never see the warm flush on Arwens cheeks again, and he would never taste the sweetness of her lips again because of his rash actions. Only one word came to his mind: No. No, to submission, no, to acceptance and above all, no, to failure. He refused to give in and a mad grin widened across his face. He appeared to have aged whole years in a matter of seconds and the determination showed on his face like a bonfire in the night. Leaping to his feet he yelled at the top of his voice Is anyone there? It came out as a hoarse, faltering cry rather than as the intended provocative challenge so he repeated it, adding emphasis on the: anyone. Eragon felt the gush of cold air against his skin and he struggled to keep his eyes open. He felt the jagged edge of a rock pierce his arm and suddenly a speck of light appeared below him. He saw the spot spiralling towards him, expanding and becoming more and more vivid. He saw again the snarling serpents fangs that had been just centimetres from his face, he saw arrows whistling past his face and blades clash against his shield and knew with certainty that this must be what it really felt like to die, to fade out of existence forever.Aragon was over the moon when the first light flickered into existence. The spark ignited his hope and now his confidence burned high. He almost laughed at his high expectations when he saw what followed. The hall was circular with high ceilings, the stairs behind him had disappeared and in their place a tangible wall locked him in. In the center there was a tall weeping willow, its branches slumped downwards, expressing profound sorrow and all the colour had been drained from its foliage. Every leaf was icy blue with white sprinkles of snow and the tree emanated coldness. The lighting was feeble and it added to the sense of loneliness and misery. Once again he heard the chorus of anguished voices and once again the melancholic notes hung in the air uneasily, like dust. Aragorn scrutinized the room, looking for an exit route but finding none, he decided to focus on the weeping willow instead. He approached it and when he reached the cascade of leaves ducked his head and pushed the longest branches away with his hand to open a path. When he was encompassed completely by the foliage he felt unnatural peace as if all his troubles had been locked outside behind indestructible bars so that they could not pounce on him and harass him ever again. Only one fear nudged the back of his mind but he took no consideration of it: was the animate cage built to keep his troubles out or rather to lock him inside?His boot sank into a soft sand and as he knelt down, with his cupped hand, he brought some up to inspect it. He realized it was ash from the faint smell of burning that followed it and as he held it he felt it was freezing, like snow. He let it slip through his fingers and drop back down onto the roots of the ancient tree. Finally he reached the base of the grey trunk and noticed it had thick bark. Streaks of silver adorned one side, forming patterns and spirals and he couldnt resist the urge to feel the rough and yet elaborate surface. His fingertip came into contact with the bark and he saw the streaks curl into a new intricate position. The feel of the bumpy trunk reminded him of the flaw on the statues back and everything soon made sense. He experimented for a while simply on controlling the changes in direction and shape and then willed himself to reproduce the symbol but unsuccessfully, his fingers kept faltering and the enchanted veins on the tree altered with a complex logic he couldnt master.Eragon had woken up, sprawled on the ground beside Legolas, confused as to why he even was alive. Then he and Legolas had ascended a dimly-lit, narrow path to find themselves before a flourishing cherry blossom willow tree. There was no artificial lighting, nor were there any candles and although the place was kilometres beneath sea-level, sunlight seemed to filter through naturally. The circular room was so wide that the walls were out of sight, it was an endless expanse of marble tiles, some with black streaks and others that were a warm tint of pink. The vastness was comparable to the limitless ocean and the veins to the wild, uncontainable waves. Legolas and Eragon were irresolute, they felt the beauty of the willow calling them, trying to draw them closer and numbing their senses but there was also an indistinct voice that seemed to be trying to convince them otherwise. The magnificence of the tree won the conflict and they were steered forward, almost passively. Both Legolas and Eragon felt they were dropping in and out of consciousness as they watched their feet march on by their own accord. They reached the trunk and by now every shape had become indistinct to their eyes, just meaningless splashes of colour and the foliage looked more than ever like a wild waterfall engulfing them. Legolas felt his knees buckle and his eyelids drop shut and then he was immersed into pitch darkness.Aragorns hand trembled uncontrollably and the movements of his fingers seemed to lose fluency as he proceeded with his impossible task. His heart slammed against his chest and beads of cold sweat trickled down his forehead. Finally, with one last swipe, he collapse for the exhaustion.He landed with a splash, slamming through a thick layer of ice and ending up face first into shallow freezing water. The liquid awakened his wits and, drenched from head to toe, he gave a yelp of delight for he had been able to complete his task. Then he caught a glimpse of a golden shape, refracted by the water and half buried by ashes. He remembered what he had come to look for and impulsively grabbed the shimmering object, already imaging him, clutching the sacred hourglass, like a victorious athlete holding up a trophy. Unexpectedly the water started sizzling like acid and white mist evaporated from the pool, reaching upwards, towards Aragorns exposed skin. He unsheathed his sword and with all his might slashed right through the vapour. The main reason for his action was to release his suppressed rage and finding pleasure in doing so, he stabbed once more. This time the tip of his blade sliced through the flat surface of the water and caused a foamy spray, then Aragorn felt something else shatter, glass. He almost tore his hair out in desperation. Because of his once again reckless behaviour he had destroyed the hourglass that guaranteed order to humanity, to the Earth and to the entire universe. He promptly dived to try and save any remainder of the holy object but emerged with a simple handful of ash, more downcast than ever. Drops of water started dripping down onto the blossoming cherry tree from above, like rain precipitating from the heavens. The drops enlarged gradually and multiplied until the whole room resonated with a mystical melody that kept on increasing in speed, texture and volume as time went by. The fluid was pouring down violently when the unbounded chamber began flooding and waves forming. They lapped at the unconscious bodies, frantically trying to awaken in them a sense of urgency. Eragon woke with a start when he heard a solid body plunge into the lake that had formed around him. He didnt even vacillate to investigate on the causes of such a sound before bounding back to his task. Now his wits were keen and except for one ear that he kept focused on his surrounding he was utterly concentrated.He felt a hand drop onto his shoulder and he shuddered, startled as he was. He tried to keep his eyes concentrated on the swirling patters before him but heard a hoarse voice calling his name. He detached his look and turning around, he came across the cold, untamed and bold eyes that belonged to Aragorn. Aragorn mouthed the words backwards S and with a nod of understanding Eragon solved the puzzle. This time Aragorn was prepared for the change that would affect the hall and his reflexes didnt fail him, the timing of his dive was impeccable. He still couldnt figure out what he intended to do once he obtained this second hourglass, without being in possession of the first but as he emerged, spluttering out water he saw Legolas sitting upright with a knowing smile on his lips. The frustrating leaking of water from above had stopped completely and peace had claimed the chamber where it now dwelled. Legolas embraced Aragorn warmly, tears welling in his eyes and then began explaining his plans enthusiastically When I fell unconscious a vision was sent to me, to entrust me with the final details of our mission. Not far from this point, the platinum altar of fate is erected and we are to simply place the hourglass atop it to prevent the spreading of evil and to preserve order.Aragorn repressed a sob I failed you, there was another hourglass that I smashed, it fell to pieces against my own loyal blade.There is no need to apologize, my vision foresaw this as well and the power of the hourglass does not lie in the container but rather in the powder that so closely resembles ash. I am confident that what is concealed in the fist that you keep to tightly shut, contains, in fact, grains of the very powder. Aragorn noticed his own clenched fist and figured he had probably kept it like that even when he had plummeted down, to get to his companions, after his epic mistake. With a grin as wide as their faces they set forth to complete their quest and once again they felt light-hearted, as if they were weightless and as if they were just common friends, sauntering gleefully through a park.

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