Murtagh (The Inheritance Cycle #5)

by Christopher Paolini

“Well, far as I see it, there’s no putting a price on pain,

Rather, he found solace in existence without contemplation. It was a simple pleasure, perhaps the simplest of all, and yet no less profound.

No one truly lives apart. We are all connected.

Thorn stood in the center of the pit. He was only four days old: still weak, still unable to fly, though he kept raising his thin, undersized wings and driving them down in a futile attempt to take off. He turned in circles, chirping in concern, uncertain of where to go or what to do.

Thorn shrank back, but there was nowhere to run or hide.

And Murtagh wept and cried out with fear.

He shook his head, a single, short movement, and Murtagh understood. There was no escape to be had. And no help either.

Tracks of many animals marked the blanket of white below: rabbits and deer and bears and more besides. Their spoor traced veinlike patterns across the landscape, a map of the movements of life itself, more random than the coursing of water but more meaningful by far.

Then Murtagh wept, and he was not ashamed.

The change in Thorn’s demeanor was instantaneous. He arched his neck and roared, and a glittering ripple flashed along his sinuous length. At last! he said. And the feel of his mind, once more whole and sound, filled Murtagh’s eyes with tears.

Murtagh knew he screamed, but he felt no pain, only a sense of cold and weakness as blood spread in a pool around him. His mother’s face appeared over him, her expression pinched with fear, and that disturbed him more than anything. He didn’t want her to worry, didn’t want her to be afraid.

He knew he had responsibilities that bound him. To Thorn, if nobody else. But they were responsibilities he had accepted for himself, not ones imposed from the outside. Freedom had always been what he aspired to, and what he would always cherish.

For he knew who he was and why he was there, and he no longer sought to fight with misery, but in pursuit of freedom.

“Your Rider needs you, dragon. Think of him. Do for him, not yourself. For other we can be strong.”

Then tears did fall from Murtagh’s eyes, and he wrapped his arms around Thorn’s head and held him tightly.