To the Lands Beyond

 

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Introduction

Däralekk, a grey elf, has awoken from his slumbers in the elven city Araduthrëa, and he will take Arya's place as ruler of the elves so Arya will go with Eragon to the lands beyond Alagaësia. *Disclaimers* This is a somewhat fanfiction based on Christopher Paolini's Inheritance Cycle, and will overlap the fourth book a slight bit, but is mostly my idea b/c I have twisted the ending to his book. The picture is not mine. It belongs to janvavrusa.

For more instantaneous updates and a slicker format to read, check out my book on Wattpad, where my name is -WhiteFang-. I will be updating quicker on there, and it would help if you would check it out there as I will most likely not update these chapters further.  

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Chapter 1: Darälekk

Gasping, Däralekk felt his mind awaken from it's dormant state it had remained in for the past few thousand years. His mind flooded with panic as he looked around and saw nothing but the dark walls of some unknown stone. He cast a spell to sever the edges of the roof hanging above him, and pushed it outwards with relief. He was afraid it might be protected even against himself, but his fears were unfounded.
As his muscles were not used to the strain, they gave out as soon as he put the slightest bit of pressure on them, so he promptly fell back down immediately after he tried to stand up in the tomb he had ensconced himself in; it was so long ago he did not remember what material he used. He then began to wonder about the goings-on in the land he had left for solitude some many many years ago.
Finally finding his legs, or so he thought, as he stepped over the walls of the he saw the forest floor of the forst Du Weldenvarden rushing towards his head, he instinctively shot his hands out to stop himself from smacking his fact on the rock that now stared him right in the face, as if taunting him. Jumping up, he looked around him.
He noticed the old elven city, Araduthrëa. As he wondered what he was doing in this ancient city that appeared to have been uncivilized for hundreds of years, he was jolted forwards as memories started flooding back to him.
He was wandering the forsest, looking for the disturbance that seemed to emenate from the building in front of him. As he did, he was mentally assaulted by what he thought was Bagӓl, and most likely the youngling Gabatorix. As he closed off his mind, he wondered why they were trying to kill him. Bagäl did not seem to have much enmity for Däralekk, but he was uncertain about galbatorix. He was undoubtedly stronger than both of them alone, but he was not so sure that he could defeat them both.
Deciding that he would test their physical abilities first, he focused his efforts on swinging a hard right arc with his sword towards Bagäl, the intensity of his attack preventing either of them from wriggling their way into his mind and wreak havoc. As Bagäl blocked, Gabatorix assaulted him as well, but he let his wards protect him against his attacks, for the grey elf was undoubtedly the more powerful of the two, and he wanted to eleminate the biggest threat first. As Galbatorix hacked away at his wards, Däralekk blocked a counter-swing from Bagäl.
Däralekk's mind seemed to black out then, and he gasped as another onslaught of memories barraged him, this time yet more painful memories.
His wards were gone, and he was being forced to deflect both the grey elf and Gabatorix's onslaughts. He could feel every hit that landed on him through the memories, the cold steel slicing his left thigh to shreds. He managed to slice Bagäl's sword arm off, yet he could still fight with his left just as easily, and switched arms with a spell and a grimace. He could not touch Galbatorix as he had done Bagäl, however, so he suspected that another person was protecting him.
Tiring from the amount of cuts he sustained, he limped towards Bagäl and stabbed him in the shoulder. Bagäl, his mouth gurgling forth fountains of blood, stepped back for a respite. As he did, Däralekk persued him. He stopped abruptly as he saw a pale blue sword flash in an arc towards his side.
Gasping as galbatorix slid his sword out of his crushed ribs, he slashed at galbatorix's face, and galbatorix miscalculated, and his deflection altered his sword's direction. He felt multiple wards break from around Galbatorix, and his sword striking bone. As he pulled his sword out of Galbatorix's left arm, he noticed that it was mangled, hanging loosely by his side. Enraged, he swung out at Däralekk, who parried it as he turned his attentions to the grey elf behind Galbatorix.
As they both continued to assault him, each receiving and delivering blows, Däralekk began to realize that he could not win this fight without magic. Placing wards around himself to protect himself against even a rider's sword, he devised and intoned them in his mind so they would not hear, he began to intensify his attack on Galbatorix to distract him.
Focusing his mental power into a thin wily blade, he assaulted Bagäl, and he was so well learned that despite the fact that he was not protecting his mind against attacks directly, the focus he poured into attacking Bagäl was all Galbatorix could see.
Frustrated, Galbatorix swung at Däralekk like a madman, his wards decreasing at an alarming rate. Redoubling his efforts against Bagäl, he wormed his way into the grey elf's mind. Once inside, he could hear Bagäl shreiking as he stabbed his way through the last of his defenses that protected his most valuable secrets. He then witnessed Bagäl intoning a spell, and knowing exactly what he planned to do, he deflected it as easily as if he were swatting away a fly.
He could feel an almost unbearable pain in his stomach, and cursed himself for not realizing that Bagäl's blade was poisoned. If he did not find the cure or put his body in a state of comatose, he was going to die very soon.
Chanting swiftly in the Ancient language, he fell to the ground in exaustion. As he watched, Bagäl's lifeless body fell to the ground, his spine protruding from his neck and his head lolling to the side. Leaping up, he deflected Galbatorix's blow as his wards failed him. Staggering backwards, he stared in disbelief as a shade and a host of the Forsworn stepped out of the trees and joined Galbatorix. Surveying frantically for a place he might hide from Galbatorix, he careened into a clearing.
Lurching himself out of the painful memories, he surveyed the clearing he was in, the very same clearing he had dueled with Galbatorix in. He felt the residue of magic still on the clearing, and gazed at the tomp he had ensconced himself in for over a hundred years.
Pain, such as the likes as he had never experienced in a hundred years pounded in his ears as he was dragged back into the memories, suspecting that it was of his own doing.
Frantically searching around the clearing, he spotted an ancient cave partially hidden by lichen and moss from disuse. Dashing into the deepest reaches of the cave, he cast a spell that cocooned himself in a magical substance that, over time, cured a body of poisons. He then cast a ward of invisibility around the cocoon, and many more wards to protect the cocoon from being attacked or detected with magic.
Walls soon began to form around him. and he heard the shouts of dragons and of men as they glanced at the end of the cave, and loud curses soon greeted his ears as they turned back to look in other places in this secret elven cave. Finally ensconsced in darkness, Däralekk purged his mind of all dangerous memories, casting another spell along with it to make him remember as soon as he awoke.
Däralekk was yet again wrenched from his memories, and the memories that he had deemed dangerous long ago flooded into his mind. He sometimes laughed, sometimes cried, and yet other times the memories filled him with wonder.
Breathing the musty air in, he heard his stomach growling in protest as he started running. Stopping abruptly and surveying the area for some food, he noticed a garden that was overgrown with edible plants. Snatching handfuls of the juicy pear-like fruits, he shoved them into his mouth greedily. Juice dribbled down his chin as he gorged himself, even eating the stems and seeds hidden inside.
Satisfied, he set out at a brisk stride towards what he knew to be Ellesméra. He jumped out of the way as foxes and other rodents scurried past, seeming as if deeming their end destination more important than any events happening around them.
As the city he was entombed in was very far to the edges of the elves' realm, He had decided along with the elders of old that the wards set around Du Weldenvarden should not reach there. He still had to run quite a bit before reaching it, so he deepened his stride.
As he was nearing the outreaches of Du Weldenvarden, he admired the amount of effort the elves had gone through to help the forest; It was much thicker and prosperous than when he had last seen it. He felt the energy spent to make the forest thrive was worth it, and again wondered why no other race saw it fitting to succor the countless living creatures all around them, as if they were oblivous to all life but their own.
As he neared the barrier that protected the forest that he had helped create long ago, he severed the flow of magic feeding he spell that propelled him forwards. As he did, he felt his body jolt as it crashed into an invisible barrier, and he landed with an audible thud. His knees flexing as they hit the ground, he sprang forwards into the forest, he felt that he should have been exemt from the spell, as he was one of the only Grey Folk to grace the presence of the elves, but just as quickly dismissed the thought, as he knew the elves would not approve.
Feeling as if he had just been reborn, he set out on a lope going deeper into the forest, leaping over small animals and giant protruding roots in his path. The trees around him became more densely packed as he went further into the forest, and he was constantly forced to dodge trees as he darted in and out of their shadows, the sunlight dappling the forest floor beneath him.
He soon noticed a golden speck, becoming more and more of a noticible figure int the distance, and smiled, his immaculate teeth shining through his normally stoic demeanor. As he neared Gilderien the Wise, he saw his eyes glimmer as recognition shone across his face as the spell of forgetfullness cast upon he and his whole race dissipated.
"Däralekk?" He asked, incredulous.
"Ah, I see you haven't fogotten me after all! I was beginning to wonder!" He said, cheerily.
The Guardian of Ellesmera stared at him in disbeleif. "When did you leave? I don't seem to remember what forced you to leave. Somethin about the rest of your race?" He asked, confused and shocked that her, standing before him was one of the few grey elves residing in Alagaësia. He could not remember any other time that he has been shocked as much as in this particular instance.
"I left when I felt it was time for me to hide myself so that I might stay in alagaesia. I did not wish to leave Alagaësia along with rest of my race, for I saw great things happening in this land I wished to see how things would progress in the next few thousand years." He replied.
Däralekk slowly walked forwards as Gilderien opened wide his arms with a gesture of welcome, and, he discerned with smugness, a sense of awe. As he walked past the sunlight dappled city of Ellesmera, he regarded the city with a sense of wonder, as if he had never been there before. He had, in fact, many times, but in the last thousand years the trees had not been so large or volumunous as they appeared before him. He appreciated the fact that the elves had not abandoned their love of nature, yet he sensed that a great sadness had overcome their race.
In the days of old, the elves would laugh and dance all 'round him as he joined in their carefree revelry, yet now he rarely caught glimpses of the few elves that were present in the outskirts of the cities, and he discerned that a great battle had taken place not long ago due to the residue of magic that clung to the tree branches like sap.
As he entered the densely packed wall of trees that made up Tialdarí Hall, he could not help but notice the beauty that was the forest city of Ellesmëra. Trees appeared as if carved, sometimes, knotted, as yet more appeared as buildings, their branches intertwining unnaturally, some trees forming benches for elves to sit and gossip about past events.
He advanced amid shouts of astonishment that indicated that many elves had perceived his identity. He felt dozens of elves feeling his mind to see if he was indeed what they remembered, the last of the Grey Elves to remain in Alagaësia. The elves stared at him in wonder.
Shouts of "Where have you been?", "Why did you choose to hide from us?", and many other, more accusatory greetings assaulted his ears.
Looking to the heavens as if for help, Däralekk waited patiently until the cries had abated.
"I see many of you here that wish to know who am I, yet also too few who now remember who I am from long ago. I cannot beleive they have all died; Where are your warriors? And Islanzadí? What of your leader? Might I deign to ask where they have gone?"
"They have gone to rid the land of a great evil; The human Galbatorix." One grey haired elf materialized out of a tree as if invisible.
Before Däralekk could comment on the matter, a commotion greeted his ears. As he turned around, he recognized the flashes of armor and the fresh scent of dried blood that connoted an army was approaching through the trees.
In the days of old, the elves would laugh and dance all 'round him as he joined in their carefree revelry, yet now he rarely caught glimpses of the few elves that were present in the outskirts of the cities, and he discerned that a great battle had taken place not long ago due to the residue of magic that clung to the tree branches like sap.
As he entered the densely packed wall of trees that made up Tialdarí Hall, he could not help but notice the beauty that was the forest city of Ellesmëra. Trees appeared as if carved, sometimes, knotted, as yet more appeared as buildings, their branches intertwining unnaturally, some trees forming benches for elves to sit and gossip about past events.
He advanced amid shouts of astonishment that indicated that many elves had perceived his identity.
He felt dozens of elves feeling his mind to see if he was indeed what they remembered, the last of the Grey Elves to remain in Alagaësia. The elves stared at him in wonder.
Shouts of "Where have you been?", "Why did you choose to hide from us?", and many other, more accusatory greetings assaulted his ears.
Looking to the heavens as if for help, Däralekk waited patiently until the cries had abated.
"I see many of you here that wish to know who am I, yet also too few who now remember who I am from long ago. I cannot beleive they have all died; Where are your warriors? And Islanzadí? What of your leader? Might I deign to ask where they have gone?"
"They have gone to rid the land of a great evil; The human Galbatorix." One grey haired elf materialized out of a tree as if invisible.
Before Däralekk could comment on the matter, a commotion greeted his ears. As he turned around, he recognized the flashes of armor and the fresh scent of dried blood that connoted an army was approaching through the trees.
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Chapter 2: Arya

As the host of elves returning from the seige of Urû'baen traipsed through the forest of Du Weldenvarden, Arya saw the entrance to Tialdarí Hall, which put a spring to her step. She immediately stopped in her tracks as the elves in front of her halted, as if they were gaping at something; she could not tell as to what they were staring at, as even though she was taller than most humans, she did not come close to some of the men of her race.
She then opened up her mind and smiled as she recognized the ship she had made of leaves shone brightly above the plants it glided above, oblivious to anything else around it. She also noticed the multitude of bedazzling minds that denoted the elves walking in front of her, and looking past them as she directed her search towards the object of such consternation, and gasped.
Never before had she felt a mind so powerful as this. This grey elf could have defeated Galbatorix with impunity. His mind buzzed with activity, and she denoted that his was of a noble disposition, as he wore his posture high and proud for all to see. There were so many questions she was bursting to ask him, cheif among them why he had awoken only after the threat of Galbatorix was over, and she also wished to know if there were any more of his race that had survived.
She heard the grey elf hail Lord Däthedr from afar, and realization shone on his face. As he neared, a sense of awe pervaded the clearing as many of the elves, who as if they had met him before, gawked at the figure before them, speechless. She wondered from where they remembered him, indignant, and why no one had told her of him before.
"Däralekk?" Lord Däthedr asked, still in shock.
"You are correct, my friend Däthedr." He repllied, and she thought she detected a hint of amusement in his voice.
At Däthedr's command, the column advanced forward, Islanzadí's litter front and foremost. Arya noticed Däralekk stepping forwards to pay homage to the deceased queen. He turned to give Arya a sympathetic glance, then turned to walk with Däthedr as they talked about what had transpired in the time Däralekk had been absent fromt he goings on in the world. The clanking of armor as the column increased their pace soon muffled their conversation, so Arya could only overhear snatches of their conversation.
Arya then was jolted from her reverie as she felt the pale, green egg she held in her arms quiver and shake. She again contented herself with gazing at the swirling white whorls that mingled with the beautiful emerald green of the egg, as if there were clouds swirling around it. It gave the egg a mysterious apperance. Arya then started hearing small squeaks that must have been going on for a while due to the looks she realized were being directed towards her, and directed her attention to the cracks that were forming along the top of the egg. She quivered with excitement, her eyes glowing with excitement.
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Chapter 3: Fírnen

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Chapter 4: Coronation

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Chapter 5: Training

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Chapter 6: Leavetaking

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Chapter 7: The Empire

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Chapter 8: Illirea

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Chapter 9: Preparations

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