The Truth About Lies (An Inheritance Cycle Fanfiction)

The Art of Training

"There is much that I have to teach you," he began, stopping in the middle of the field. "But we'll begin with the basics. Have you ever spoken to animals with your mind before?" I bit my lower lip as I thought of Saphira, and then of the stallion—whom I'd finally decided to call Praetorian.

"I don't know if word has reached you here in Surda, but there is another Dragon Rider in Alagaesia," I began slowly. "He is...well, was my best friend. And I spoke to his dragon regularly. And then I subdued the stallion by sending him calming thoughts."

"I had heard of the Rider, but I didn't know you were associated with him. Was he from Carvahall as well?"

"Yes, his name is Eragon." Braeden's eyes widened slightly, but he said nothing more.

"Excellent, then the work is already halfway done." He clapped his hands together and then came closer to me, placing his hands on my shoulders and staring into my eyes. "The next thing I will teach you is slightly more advanced. Your mother was very talented in this particular subject, so I don't foresee you having much trouble with it."

"What is it?" I asked.

"You will learn to speak with the dead." I felt my eyes widen.

"How is that possible?"

"Have you ever wondered where our souls go when they die?" Braeden asked me. I shook my head because I hadn't ever really thought about it. "The gods take those souls that are good to a land of eternal peace and freedom. That world exists within our own, and certain magic users are able to cross the lines to the spirit world to converse with those that have passed." My breath caught in my throat as I immediately thought of Murtagh.

"Teach me," I stated simply.

The training was rigorous. It required me to access parts of my mind I'd never even thought of before. I discovered that there was a massive pool of power within me, and when I accessed it, there were hardly any limits to what I could do. It was draining at first, but I quickly built up my stamina. When I accessed the spirit world, everything around me took on a brightly colored hue. The spirits of those that were departed noticed me sometimes, and I conversed with them on occasion, but mostly I just watched and observed.

Braeden was impressed with my quick progress. But no matter how hard I concentrated, I could never find Murtagh or my mother. I wondered if it had anything to do with where the person had died, but Braeden wasn't sure about that. Day after day, I threw myself into learning, and I only improved.

Once Braeden was satisfied with my abilities in that respect, we moved on to more attack-oriented abilities. I'd been at the estate for more than a month when he finally taught me how to harness my power into a weapon. I would access my power, deep within the recesses of my mind, and then focus it into a certain point on my body—usually my hand or arm. A white light that was rimmed in purple would form a disc in my hand, and I was able to propel it forward. Braeden set up flour sack dummies as targets, and the energy would explode against them—very often setting them on fire. It felt wonderful as the power surged through my body, vibrating every fiber of my being.

Lord Braeden even taught me the art of healing with herbs and potions. He said I had a knack for it, which obviously came from my mother. And when I was mixing the poultices and vials, I felt incredibly close to the woman that I'd never known. And I loved that I was learning to help others, the way that she had done. When he'd taught me all he could about magic, it was time for Braeden to teach me to ride. And in the sixth month of my stay there, I led Praetorian out to the paddock where Braeden was waiting atop his white stallion.

"The most important thing," he explained, "it to have a good connection with your horse. You must feel what he feels, so that he can do the same for you. Open your mind to Praetorian, allow him to feel your thoughts and you do the same for him. Think of the way that Eragon and Saphira are connected; try to emulate that. We'll start slowly, and then work our way up." I nodded slowly, but I knew it didn't come across as convincing. The truth was that I was afraid. I'd ridden Cadoc all the way across the country before, but warfare from horseback was a completely different story.