When Destiny Burns, Ep. 2 A Halo and Inheritance Cycle Crossover [Discontinued]

Chapter 19.3 Proper views pt. 1

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The three days leading up to the Blood-oath celebration were some of the weirdest, but also the most peaceful and pleasant days Maine had had in a very long time. After that one nightmare about his torture at the hands of the Insurrectionists, he hadn't had any other nightmares Aeraleth had reacted with severe shock and disgrace when he had told her about his dream and even more so when he had actually showed her parts of his memory regarding it. Only after he had confirmed that the culprits were already dead had she calmed down somewhat.

Aeraleth...his first real partner. His first real friend. The only one who seemed to understand him somewhat. She was plagued by her own emotions and problems, as evidenced by a second fight that she, Saphira and Glaedr had had on the end of the second day. All three of them had been wounded but, on the contrary to Glaedr and Saphira, Aeraleth had immediately allowed her Rider to help her and talk to her. Her feelings concerning the male dragon were strange and confusing and her pain about the end of her race was something that Maine really could not help her with. But his presence had been enough to help her and eventually, she had calmed down. They helped each other now, which was something that Maine felt proud off.

And with his dragon's support, the Spartan was slowly opening up to many of the good things that Ellesméra had to offer .At the end of the third day before the Celebration he had met up with the old Rhunön again. They had talked about the properties of weapons, armor and the material that his rifle was made off. She hadn't seemed shocked to see him out of his armor, but she had told him that his appearance reminded her of Morzan somewhat. He hadn't known what to make of that, so he had changed the subject to UNSC Starship-grade armor. The smith had been very interested in the things he had to tell her; about the Covenant plasma torpedoes and how they had managed to boil through two meters of solid grade-A armor at one point.

And he had been equally interested in learning about the creation of the Rider's swords. Despite the fact that Rhunön had sworn a binding oath never to make a sword again, as Galbatorix had either destroyed them or used them for evil, she had still been very passionate about the process. One day she had found a fallen meteor, which had supplied her with a very strong metal which she had used in the making of the blades.

Of course, Maine had spent the mornings before the Celebration would start by sparring with Daenlith whom, he came to understand, had various friends in Ellesméra. Their sparring time generally took ninety minutes per day, but he was thankful to have someone to practice with. Daenlith was a superb swordswoman and he learned at a rapid pace, allowing him to mark the elf a few times as well. They continued to clash with their enchanted hand-and-a-half swords until one of them felt like taking a break, after which they would continue fighting. Maine started to get to know the elf as she told him things about her early childhood, her companions and other personal things, like her tastes in music, art and food, much to his surprise. In turn, he wanted to tell her as much about him as was he could without sharing classified Intel or scaring her off. He told her about his experiences in the war, battles fought in the Human-Covenant war and things that he generally felt were interesting to know. Of course, he was careful to leave out the scale of the war, which was sure to shock Daenlith into silence.

One of her friends was am elf who came close in age to queen Islanzadí; he was three-hundred and something years old and one of the rare elves whom the Spartan actually respected for being a warrior, for that was exactly who this elf was. A veteran soldier from wars fought even before the first Rider war, against the Forsworn. Maine hadn't really understood how Daenlith knew the warrior and at first, he had felt a strange hostility towards him, but that had changed when he had come to learn of the elf's warrior's heritage.

All in all, Maine was really content with the way he spent his time in Ellesméra. He mastered difficult topics in magic with a pace that seemed to unsettle Oromis somewhat and despite his so-called 'extremely narrow views', he still managed to have civil conversations with both Eragon and the elven Rider, albeit they were still very one-sided. But on the second-last day before the Agaetí-Blödhren, Maine was struck by another aggression-fit. After he had climbed inside of the barracks to grab some sleep, his vision had blurred and his stomach had suddenly forced itself into a tight knot. Things went downhill very fast after that, with his temperature spiking and his rational thoughts nearly vanishing in the still inexplicable and extremely sudden desire to maim something. It had been a very unpleasant sensation; akin to his mind being put on fire. When Aeraleth and him had finally regained control over both his mind and body, his arms had been covered with bloody scratches and his tunic had been torn in several places. The walls had moderately damaged, but he had also ruined two beds.