Back to Normal (Brenton and dragonkin)

[Quetzal]

Arlyn, Saphira, Isrydia and Eragon were surprised to hear Saphira I's voice suddenly spill out into their minds. Isrydia thought it sound advice, and trusted her experience. She felt the dragon was being honest, too. She didn't seem the sort to lie and was telling her that it wouldn't get any better where most others would just pretend everything would be all right soon. "Thank you, Saphira. I just hope I can avoid killing where possible in future," she replied. The easiest solution to feeling terrible about killing people, even in self defence, was to not kill people. Eragon and Saphira felt bad knowing that it wouldn't be long before Nasuada would march the Varden toward Uru'baen. When that happened, they would be obliged as the Varden's Champions to ask Isrydia and Arlyn to fight with them, not necessarily joining the Varden permanently but at least helping them out. The death toll there would be far worse, the battle bloody and grim. They also couldn't help but feel an odd sense of pride and longing upon hearing the voice of Brom's dragon. His father's dragon, Saphira's namesake, was someone they'd never met in life and she was a vague connection for Brom they wanted to cling to.

The camp was in sight now. Saphira was relaying Tintaglia's pleas to Eragon and Isrydia had been asked a question by Brenton, so the two moved closer to the other Riders. Eragon could see the sweat on Saphone's brow, the boy slipping in and out of consciousness. "You need to calm down and stop panicking, Tintaglia, that won't help anything. Best keep a clear head in situations like this. Saphone's still able to complain about how weak he feels, so he's not too bad. It's silence, when he can't speak properly, that means he's really struggling. His body doesn't have the energy to keep going for much longer. He used too much on that spell, so now he doesn't have the energy for basic functions. His body will direct all his energy to the most important, like breathing and keeping his heart going, but however much energy we gave him he'd still struggle to recover and use it. The doctors will know what to do."

Brenton had jumped from Saphira onto the saddle of a nearby horse, which seemed like a stupid thing to do given the amount of energy he'd just used up. Saphira had been perfectly capable of carrying him. The dragon shuffled her wings in annoyance, not happy at being jumped off in favour of a horse. Silly little hooved thing. "Rella? No, can't say I have. I haven't been back to Ellesmera since Arlyn and I left, I'm afraid," she said. "Couldn't you go and visit her?"

[Dragonkin]

Tintaglia spoke again but this time to Eragon alone "I really dont mean to be pushy but please can we hurry i dont want to lose my partner and the one i would hate to be away from on this earth"

[Brenton]

Brenton shook his head in frustration as Isrydia suggested he go visit Rella in Ellesmera. He had thought about it many times, even gotten close to traveling there of his own accord. Yet every time it came to going back he couldn't bring himself to do it and show her what he was, a monster. No matter how he tried to reason with what he had done, Brenton was a monster and he would never be the same as he once was. I...just can't. She can't see me like this, no matter what. Isrydia I'm a monster now and there's no changing that. Rella deserves better than that yet I still want her to know I care about her...but without me telling her. It's complicated. Brenton sighed and looked away as he tried to figure out what to do. There was once a point when he could tell Isrydia anything but what was truly bothering him just wasn't something she would be willing to hear ever. He still loved the female rider, as a friend and someone he trusted. Yet it was more than that too. The feelings he had for Isrydia never seemed to go away and that was part of the reason he stayed away from Rella as much as possible.

[Quetzal]

Eragon nodded to Tintaglia and picked up the pace, making the others walk faster too. They were reaching the first tents now. He knew his way around the camp well, and picked a route along the maze of paths of mud churned by countless boots, hooves and cart wheels. He stepped ahead to lead, there being room for a dragon the size of Tintaglia to walk alongside one person but no more. People hurried out the way as they recognised the Varden's Champion, serious face caked in mud and sweat, blood dotted here and there on his person. They stared, guessing to one another why he was so grim-faced, what fight had happened, who had done that to the boy Rider on Tintaglia's back. He reached out with his mind to the healers' tent he was aiming for, informing all the healers he could that they had best find a couple of healers they could spare to tend to an urgent injury. With no battle happened yet, they were well-stocked with supplies and healers alike. They would be stretched thinner when the real fighting began and people started dying.

Isrydia wanted to disagree with Brenton being a monster, but... she couldn't. She'd seen him when the madness took him over, taking him into an uncontrollable bloodlust. "It's the crystal, Brenton, it's just the crystal. You aren't a monster, but that thing is doing its best to make you one. There must be some way to get rid of it." In all honesty, she had no idea why he would even think using that vile thing had been a good idea in the first place.

They reached the medical tent, a large marquee with space around it for equipment and proper ventilation - the patients needed clean fresh air, not smokey camp air with the heat of other people's fires and bodies close together. That, and nobody wanted to be near the medical tent because they knew that anyone dying of a wound would stink of death, not an odour they wanted wafting into their tent. Presently the smell was fine. The good ventilation removed the stink of anything rotten or infected, and there were only a couple of patients in the beds that were visible. One was asleep, thin and weak but looking as though he would recover from his illness in time. The other hardly looked ill at all, chatting to a male nurse with the odd break for a coughing fit. The walls were down since it was a pleasant day, so the tent was basically a canvas roof on stilts. The odd but of wall surrounded a bed or expensive apparatus, and some panels had been left up between the supports possibly on pure laziness.

The dragons wouldn't fit in the tent without knocking over a bed or table covered in precious equipment, so Eragon lifted Saphone from Tintaglia's back. "Dragons, you can watch, but you'll do more harm than good if you try to come in. Isrydia, Brenton, come with me if you like. Especially you, Brenton, I know you hate to admit any weakness but you were weakened pretty badly back there. I'll get someone to look you over, Tintaglia, and Saphira and Arlyn too if you need it."

Walking as smoothly and swiftly as he could, he moved over and lay Saphone gently down on the nearest bed, trying not to jolt him. The unconscious boy needed urgent attention, and the healers had heard his warning. A couple were by the young Rider in an instant. Thankfully they didn't ask any questions now; all they needed to know of what had happened was anything that might help them learn enough about his wounds to heal him. A doctor pressed her hand to his clammy forehead. "His temperature's high. Bring a cold cloth." A nurse bobbed out of view and returned a moment later with few ice cubes wrapped in a damp cloth. The doctor placed this on Saphone's forehead while the other doctor, a man of around forty, tore off Saphone's shirt to examine the wounds there.

Eragon looked at another healer standing by. "Brenton used up a lot of energy defeating an unusually powerful spellcaster. If you could look over any damage, it'd be appreciated." He hoped his half-brother wouldn't be so prideful he refused to let a doctor check for serious injury. Something that didn't seem like an issue could be infected, and with the loss of energy from the fight Brenton might well die of it.

He bid another healer, an elven magic user, go to look over the dragons. The elf man went to Tintaglia first of all, seeing how battered she was. Finally, he spoke to the nurse, who was watching while the two doctors examined Saphone. "Do you mind cleaning and dressing mine and Isrydia's wounds?" he asked. She set to work right away. He hated to be seen injured around his men, but he didn't want to take any risks with his life. He might be able to heal his wounds later, but first he should get them properly cleaned and dressed. That way when he healed them he wouldn't seal an infection in there too, and the wounds would start repairing themselves naturally which would help magic to heal them. Healing was complicated, too, and not something he was good at, so he supposed his best chances were to let nature run its course anyway, although he could speed it up a bit. The woman drenched a deep score in his arm with alcohol, making him suck in air through his teeth at the sharp stinging pain. She bandaged it, then worked on a still-bleeding neat slice on Isrydia's leg. She alternated between the two Riders, washing and bandaging anything that needed it in turn.

((I'll let you guys decide what your character need medically))

[Dragonkin]

Tintaglia speaks "I'm not leaving my rider my little one is injured badly and I am not going to leave him!" ROARS at saphira "you know how I am feeling right?"

Saphone has many bad cuts all over his body and claw marks on his legs blood is dripping through his tunic and staining the ground around him he groans speaking weakly "Eragon please take care of tintaglia for me if I don't make it" his left arm is broken and a few ribs are cracked**

[Brenton]

Brenton glared at Tintaglia as the dragon got frustrated. By that point he was already sitting down to let a healer check him over. Yet when the dragon decided to make a big deal out of Saphone being left alone, the king stood back up. Politely he motioned for the healer to wait one second. With determined strides he walked over to the dragon and spoke. If you wish to stay with him then I might as well run the boy through with Undbitr right now. I'm nigh immortal and yet I deem it necessary to be helped. These wounds won't kill me and still I do this. So a boy who is on the brink of death is more likely to die if you don't back down. Brenton walked back in and sat down. The healer started working on his latticelike cuts across both aims and back.