Eragon Chapter Thirty Seven

This chapter is called ‘legacy of a rider’. Hmm, what could that be referring to? Is it Eragon? Maybe he dies in this chapter and leaves behind a ridiculous legacy so pathetic that the people decide to throw off the oppression of dragon riders by inventing the surface to air missile. I’d like to see Galbatorix fend one of those off.

Oh, maybe that’s what this chapter is about. Maybe it’s all about Galbatorix’s past. We’ll get to see a few select scenes from his life which will provide us depth to his character. We’ll see how he came from a poor and twisted childhood that was turned around when he bonded with a dragon. Having been lifted from his poverty and anguish, losing his companion drives him nearly mad and we learn some sympathy for him. Or Brom dies.

Eragon Wakes: 22

Eragon get’s woken up by Murtagh who wants to know what kind of omelet he’d like. Dragon eggs, scrambled with some bacon and chives. Saphira hears this and kills them both in a rage. Fade to black and credits roll.

Or Murtagh needs help because Brom is going even crazier than he is. Brom is turning into a whole warship of loose cannons. He’s putting the whole city at risk and someone needs to go out there and stop him. Now the way I figure it, Eragon, you were trained by him. You know what he can do, how he works and, more importantly, how he thinks. Now get out there and bring him in before more innocent people are hurt.

Brom has a fever and Saphira only woke them once he started thrashing. Apparently someone hasn’t had his prescription of cowbell filled lately. Brom comes to and begins shouting for wine. Ah, so now he’s turned into a Roman emperor. ‘You swine, I’ll see you die in the ring, slaughtered by slaves! Now bring me wine! More wine!’

Brom’s next words were faint and indistinct. “Good…” He moved his arm weakly. “Now… wash my right hand with it.”

Okay, I’m not a doctor but I’m pretty sure you don’t have to listen to the man having a waking fever dream. Eragon does as he’s told though because, hey, when that madman demanded Eragon give him a de-eared bunny things turned out alright.

And whoa, what does Eragon see when he goes to wash Brom’s hand? The dragon rider mark. Wait a second, how’d he keep that hidden. I don’t recall Chris saying he wore gloves or anything like that. Didn’t Brom shake hands with Eragon at some point? It must be one of those disappearing, reappearing marks that hides when you need it to go unnoticed.

Instead of working on Brom’s sickness they start chatting about Brom being a rider. ‘So then, I spent a few years just bumming around the coast. Me and Saphira, that is my dragon Saphira who was named way before yours, had a lot of fun just barbecuing and drinking. Then there was the decade we spent stationed up north in the winter wastes. Those were some trying times. If I weren’t for my oldest friend, concealed hip flask, I wouldn’t have made it.’

Brom offers his blessing to Eragon. You know, for when he does finally decide to settle down. And then he tells him seven words in the ancient language. Ah, the seven ancient words you can’t say on television. They do hold the mystical power of antagonism and fame, depending on how they’re wielded.

Brom blindly turned his eyes to the ceiling. “And now,” he murmured, “for the greatest adventure of all…”

Oh no, not Flash Gordon! Anything but that! I can’t stand the incomprehensible fight scene on the rotating disc with the popping spikes. The soundtrack is done by Queen though, so there’s a point in its favor.

Eragon sits around and waits for Brom to die. At least he doesn’t utter any stupid last words. They take him out to a rock to bury him. Eragon uses his magic to mold the sandstone into a stone coffin and carves runes into it. ‘Here lies the drunkest, angriest man who ever beat me. May he finally get to that land of endless Jack and Coke and no hangovers. – Eragon P.S. I’ll be coming back for his stuff as soon as I feel I need it so don’t touch.’

All tuckered out from a day of carving phallic imagery and ‘Galbatorix Sucks’ into Brom’s tomb, Eragon goes to sleep. He once more dreams some sort of prophetic/psychic dream.

He could tell that something was wrong with her. Her breathing was irregular, and she shook—whether from cold or pain, he did not know. In the semidarkness of the cell, the only thing clearly illuminated was her hand, which hung over the edge of the cot. A dark liquid dripped from the tips of her fingers. Eragon knew it was blood.

Okay, Eragon. That’s not blood, it’s chocolate and her breathing is irregular for reasons you’re not old enough to worry about. Here, go watch your Shrek DVD so the adults can chat in peace.

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