Eldest
Page 95
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“In addition, you must learn to read and write the ancient language. Not only will this help you to memorize words, it is an essential skill if you need to compose an especially long spell and you don’t trust your memory, or if you find such a spell recorded and you want to use it.
“Every race has evolved their own system of writing the ancient language. The dwarves use their runic alphabet, as do humans. They are only makeshift techniques, though, and are incapable of expressing the language’s true subtleties as well as our Liduen Kvaedhí, the Poetic Script. The Liduen Kvaedhí was designed to be as elegant, beautiful, and precise as possible. It is composed of forty-two different shapes that represent various sounds. These shapes can be combined in a nearly infinite range of glyphs that represent both individual words and entire phrases. The symbol on your ring is one such glyph. The symbol on Zar’roc is another. . . . Let us start: What are the basic vowel sounds of the ancient language?”
“What?”
Eragon’s ignorance of the underpinnings of the ancient language quickly became apparent. When he had traveled with Brom, the old storyteller had concentrated on having Eragon memorize lists of words that he might need to survive, as well as perfecting his pronunciation. In those two areas, he excelled, but he could not even explain the difference between a definite and indefinite article. If the gaps in his education frustrated Oromis, the elf did not betray it through word or action, but labored persistently to mend them.
At a certain point during the lesson, Eragon commented, “I’ve never needed very many words in my spells; Brom said it was a gift that I could do so much with justbrisingr. I think the most I ever said in the ancient language was when I spoke to Arya in her mind and when I blessed an orphan in Farthen Dûr.”
“You blessed a child in the ancient language?” asked Oromis, suddenly alert. “Do you remember how you worded this blessing?”
“Aye.”
“Recite it for me.” Eragon did so, and a look of pure horror engulfed Oromis. He exclaimed, “You usedskölir ! Are you sure? Wasn’t itsköliro ?”
Eragon frowned. “No,skölir. Why shouldn’t I have used it?Skölir meansshielded. ‘. . . and may you be shielded from misfortune.’ It was a good blessing.”
“That was no blessing, but a curse.” Oromis was more agitated than Eragon had ever seen him. “The suffixo forms the past tense of verbs ending withr andi. Sköliro meansshielded, butskölir meansshield. What you said was ‘May luck and happiness follow you and may you be ashield from misfortune.’ Instead of protecting this child from the vagaries of fate, you condemned her to be a sacrifice for others, to absorb their misery and suffering so that they might live in peace.”
No, no! It can’t be!Eragon recoiled from the possibility. “The effect a spell has isn’t only determined by the word’s sense, but also by your intent, and I didn’t intend to harm—”
“You cannot gainsay a word’s inherent nature. Twist it, yes. Guide it, yes. But not contravene its definition to imply the very opposite.” Oromis pressed his fingers together and stared at the table, his lips reduced to a flat white line. “I will trust that you didnot mean harm, else I would refuse to teach you further. If you were honest and your heart was pure, then this blessing may cause less evil than I fear, though it will still be the nucleus of more pain than either of us could wish.”
Violent trembling overtook Eragon as he realized what he had done to the child’s life. “It may not undo my mistake,” he said, “but perhaps it will alleviate it; Saphira marked the girl on the brow, just like she marked my palm with the gedwëy ignasia.”
For the first time in his life, Eragon witnessed an elf dumbstruck. Oromis’s gray eyes widened, his mouth opened, and he clutched the arms of his chair until the wood groaned with protest. “One who bears the sign of the Riders, and yet is not a Rider,” he murmured. “In all my years, I have never met anyone such as the two of you. Every decision you make seems to have an impact far beyond what anyone could anticipate. You change the world with your whims.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“Neither, it just is. Where is the babe now?”
It took a moment for Eragon to compose his thoughts. “With the Varden, either in Farthen Dûr or Surda. Do you think that Saphira’s mark will help her?”
“I know not,” said Oromis. “No precedent exists to draw upon for wisdom.”
“There must be ways to remove the blessing, to negate a spell.” Eragon was almost pleading.
“There are. But for them to be most effective, you should be the one to apply them, and you cannot be spared here. Even under the best of circumstances, remnants of your magic will haunt this girl evermore. Such is the power of the ancient language.” He paused. “I see that you understand the gravity of the situation, so I will say this only once: you bear full responsibility for this girl’s doom, and, because of the wrong you did her, it is incumbent upon you to help her if ever the opportunity should arise. By the Riders’ law, she is your shame as surely as if you had begotten her out of wedlock, a disgrace among humans, if I remember correctly.”
“Aye,” whispered Eragon. “I understand.”I understand that I forced a defenseless baby to pursue a certain destiny without ever giving her a choice in the matter. Can someone be truly good if they never have the opportunity to act badly? I made her a slave. He also knew that if he had been bound in that manner without permission, he would hate his jailer with every fiber of his being.
“Every race has evolved their own system of writing the ancient language. The dwarves use their runic alphabet, as do humans. They are only makeshift techniques, though, and are incapable of expressing the language’s true subtleties as well as our Liduen Kvaedhí, the Poetic Script. The Liduen Kvaedhí was designed to be as elegant, beautiful, and precise as possible. It is composed of forty-two different shapes that represent various sounds. These shapes can be combined in a nearly infinite range of glyphs that represent both individual words and entire phrases. The symbol on your ring is one such glyph. The symbol on Zar’roc is another. . . . Let us start: What are the basic vowel sounds of the ancient language?”
“What?”
Eragon’s ignorance of the underpinnings of the ancient language quickly became apparent. When he had traveled with Brom, the old storyteller had concentrated on having Eragon memorize lists of words that he might need to survive, as well as perfecting his pronunciation. In those two areas, he excelled, but he could not even explain the difference between a definite and indefinite article. If the gaps in his education frustrated Oromis, the elf did not betray it through word or action, but labored persistently to mend them.
At a certain point during the lesson, Eragon commented, “I’ve never needed very many words in my spells; Brom said it was a gift that I could do so much with justbrisingr. I think the most I ever said in the ancient language was when I spoke to Arya in her mind and when I blessed an orphan in Farthen Dûr.”
“You blessed a child in the ancient language?” asked Oromis, suddenly alert. “Do you remember how you worded this blessing?”
“Aye.”
“Recite it for me.” Eragon did so, and a look of pure horror engulfed Oromis. He exclaimed, “You usedskölir ! Are you sure? Wasn’t itsköliro ?”
Eragon frowned. “No,skölir. Why shouldn’t I have used it?Skölir meansshielded. ‘. . . and may you be shielded from misfortune.’ It was a good blessing.”
“That was no blessing, but a curse.” Oromis was more agitated than Eragon had ever seen him. “The suffixo forms the past tense of verbs ending withr andi. Sköliro meansshielded, butskölir meansshield. What you said was ‘May luck and happiness follow you and may you be ashield from misfortune.’ Instead of protecting this child from the vagaries of fate, you condemned her to be a sacrifice for others, to absorb their misery and suffering so that they might live in peace.”
No, no! It can’t be!Eragon recoiled from the possibility. “The effect a spell has isn’t only determined by the word’s sense, but also by your intent, and I didn’t intend to harm—”
“You cannot gainsay a word’s inherent nature. Twist it, yes. Guide it, yes. But not contravene its definition to imply the very opposite.” Oromis pressed his fingers together and stared at the table, his lips reduced to a flat white line. “I will trust that you didnot mean harm, else I would refuse to teach you further. If you were honest and your heart was pure, then this blessing may cause less evil than I fear, though it will still be the nucleus of more pain than either of us could wish.”
Violent trembling overtook Eragon as he realized what he had done to the child’s life. “It may not undo my mistake,” he said, “but perhaps it will alleviate it; Saphira marked the girl on the brow, just like she marked my palm with the gedwëy ignasia.”
For the first time in his life, Eragon witnessed an elf dumbstruck. Oromis’s gray eyes widened, his mouth opened, and he clutched the arms of his chair until the wood groaned with protest. “One who bears the sign of the Riders, and yet is not a Rider,” he murmured. “In all my years, I have never met anyone such as the two of you. Every decision you make seems to have an impact far beyond what anyone could anticipate. You change the world with your whims.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“Neither, it just is. Where is the babe now?”
It took a moment for Eragon to compose his thoughts. “With the Varden, either in Farthen Dûr or Surda. Do you think that Saphira’s mark will help her?”
“I know not,” said Oromis. “No precedent exists to draw upon for wisdom.”
“There must be ways to remove the blessing, to negate a spell.” Eragon was almost pleading.
“There are. But for them to be most effective, you should be the one to apply them, and you cannot be spared here. Even under the best of circumstances, remnants of your magic will haunt this girl evermore. Such is the power of the ancient language.” He paused. “I see that you understand the gravity of the situation, so I will say this only once: you bear full responsibility for this girl’s doom, and, because of the wrong you did her, it is incumbent upon you to help her if ever the opportunity should arise. By the Riders’ law, she is your shame as surely as if you had begotten her out of wedlock, a disgrace among humans, if I remember correctly.”
“Aye,” whispered Eragon. “I understand.”I understand that I forced a defenseless baby to pursue a certain destiny without ever giving her a choice in the matter. Can someone be truly good if they never have the opportunity to act badly? I made her a slave. He also knew that if he had been bound in that manner without permission, he would hate his jailer with every fiber of his being.
