A Twist Of Fate A Percy Jackson and Eragon Crossover

Escaping Carvahall

Percy's Point of View

I was going to lie down and go back to sleep but before I could I heard Roran calling us. I got up again, wondering if I would get any sleep, and went to see what was going on. Roran didn't stop until most of Carvahall stood before him, Roran was silent at first and his left hand was clenched into a fist. When he raised his hand and opened it, we could see that his fist had been so tight that his fingernails had dug into his palm causing it to bleed. I wondered why he had called us all out here and that question was eventually answered after he started speaking.

"This," he said, "is my pain. Look well, for it will be yours unless we defeat the curse wanton fate has set upon us. Your friends and family will be bound in chains, destined for slavery in foreign lands, or slain before your eyes, hewn open by soldiers' merciless blades. Galbatorix will sow our land with salt so that it lies forever fallow. This I have seen. This I know." He paced like a caged wolf, glowering and swinging his head. "My father was killed by the desecrators. My cousin has fled. My farm was razed. And my bride-to-be was kidnapped by her own father, who murdered Byrd and betrayed us all! Quimby eaten, the hay barn burned along with Fisk's and Delwin's houses. Parr, Wyglif, Ged, Bardrick, Farold Kelby, Melkolf, Albem, and Elmund: all slain. Many of you have been injured, like me, so that you can no longer support your family. Isn't it enough that we toil every day of our lives to eke a living from the earth, subjected to the whims of nature? Isn't it enough that we are forced to pay Galbatorix's iron taxes, without also having to endure these senseless torments?" Roran laughed maniacally, howling at the sky. No one stirred in the crowd.

"I know now the true nature of the Empire and of Galbatorix; they are evil. Galbatorix is an unnatural blight on the world. He destroyed the Riders and the greatest peace and prosperity we ever had. His servants are foul demons birthed in some ancient pit. But is Galbatorix content to grind us beneath his heel? No! He seeks to poison all of Alagaësia, to suffocate us with his cloak of misery. Our children and their descendants shall live in the shadow of his darkness until the end of time, reduced to slaves, worms, vermin for him to torture at his pleasure. Unless..."

I had to admit he was making a rather impressive speech. He was obviously trying to motivate everyone to try and escape the situation we were in and I guessed he had probably come up with a way to do that.

As Roran continued it became clear that he had.

He said, "Unless we have the courage to resist evil. "We've fought the soldiers and the Ra'zac, but it means nothing if we die alone and forgotten—or are carted away as chattel. We cannot stay here, and I won't allow Galbatorix to obliterate everything that's worth living for. I would rather have my eyes plucked out and my hands chopped off than see him triumph! I choose to fight! I choose to step from my grave and let my enemies bury themselves in it! "I choose to leave Carvahall. "I will cross the Spine and take a ship from Narda down to Surda, where I will join the Varden, who have struggled for decades to free us of this oppression."

The other villagers looked shocked at the idea, but Roran wasn't done talking, "But I do not wish to go alone. Come with me. and seize this chance to forge a better life for yourselves. Throw off the shackles that bind you here." Roran pointed at us, moving his finger from one person to the next. "A hundred years from now, what names shall drop from the bards' lips? Horst... Birgit... Kiselt... Thane; they will recite our sagas. They will sing "The Epic of Carvahall," for we were the only village brave enough to defy the Empire."

"What could be more noble than cleansing Galbatorix's stain from Alagaësia? No more would we live in fear of having our farms destroyed or being killed and eaten. The grain we harvest would be ours to keep, save for any extra that we might send as a gift to the rightful king. The rivers and streams would run thick with gold. We would be safe and happy and fat! "It is our destiny."