The Truth About Lies (An Inheritance Cycle Fanfiction)

Eragon and I walked side by side up to the top of the tower, taking our time. There was still a few minutes yet until dawn. And there was just the barest hints of pink on the eastern horizon, the only indication that night was almost over.

We didn't speak much, except to comment on the exceptional craftsmanship of the tower. It was one of the original spires from the time of the elves. Their artistry and skill was evident in every carving, sculpture, and curve of the wall. This city was certainly beautiful, underneath all of the damage my father had done. It would be beautiful once again, but first we needed to choose who would head up this new kingdom.

When we finally reached the landing at the top of the tower, Eragon stopped and turned to me. He put his hands on my shoulders and looked into my eyes. "Are you sure you're alright to do this?" he asked. "I can speak for both of us, if you wish."

"I'm alright, Eragon. I promise." I hadn't yet told him about the arrangement Murtagh and I had made; that could wait until later. Although the prospect of seeing him again in a few months helped to lessen the pain I was feeling, it didn't abate it completely. Eragon nodded stiffly, though I could tell from the look on his face that he knew I was keeping something from him. He was kind enough not to mention it.

He opened the door and I stepped in front of him. When I entered, every eye in the room turned to me, some less friendly than others. One particularly unfriendly pair belonged to the king of Surda. He sat in sullen silence in an elaborately carved chair, a golden goblet of wine clasped firmly in his grip. It was evident by the shabby state of the room that this tower hadn't been used in many long years. Rafter beams were falling into decay, and one large beam was even resting against the floor at an angle, still slightly attached to the ceiling. I looked up and saw several birds' nests and a large hole in the ceiling. Dust covered the floor completely, only cleared where the footsteps of its current visitors had walked. And on the far wall hung a dingy looking tapestry depicting a battle scene between elves and dragons, the edges of which were tattered and frayed.

King Orrin looked especially out of place in this forgotten room, in his fine robes and with his golden crown; the rest of us—still covered in dirt and grime from the previous day's events—seemed to match the atmosphere of the room. All except Nasuada and the tall elf nobleman, Lord Däthedr. He eyed me in much the same way King Orrin did, though I got the feeling it was more because of my appearance, rather than my person. I'd cleaned my face of all blood and dirt, but my clothes were still in a rough-looking state. Roran gave me a reassuring look though, from his place next to Jörmundur. I was glad he was here; that was one more friend to count.

I walked quickly to the outer edge of the room and rested upon a windowsill which looked out over the city; Eragon joined me and leaned against the wall to my left, arms crossed over his chest. Outside, I could feel Amera and Saphira lingering close by. Their presence helped to calm my nerves, which were raging for several different reasons.

After it seemed everyone was present and accounted for, Lord Däthedr began to speak. "It shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone why it is we are gathered here," he said in a musical voice. I watched the tall Urgal chieftain shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other. His race was not known to be friendly with... well, anyone, and he seemed especially on edge in this room. The king of the dwarves stood next to him, though well apart and somewhat on his own. And next to Lord Däthedr stood Arya. I knew she was still grieving, and she was only here because her mother had been killed, but I couldn't help thinking she was very strong and holding up very well. "It may seem hasty, to choose a ruler after the last king was deposed only yesterday, but we must act quickly. Several factions will begin vying for power if we do not, and we may very well have open war on our hands once again."