Disclaimer: I don't own Eragon, I just use it.

Eragon fanfic:

Return of a horsemen

It was almost impossible to tell what time of day it was for the small group of soldiers and magicians marching through a dark, forgotten cavern in the Spine. There mission was simple, find what king Galbatorix believed to be a store of dragon's hearts, and secure them. There were about 12 of them in all, 9 skilled swordsmen and 3 powerful magicians marching through the ancient blackness, wondering how anything living could have found it's way down there, let alone a flock of dragons, disgorging there hearts for safety.

Of the magicians there was 2 men and 1 woman, the first man wore his hood over his face so only his brown hair and lower face could be seen. The second man was clearly older, due to the gray beard that adorned his face, like his companion, he to kept his face hooded. The woman looked to be the youngest of the group, but still she was of age. Her blonde hair streaming out from where her hood ended. These people, unlike the other 9, could sense the evil radiating from the cavern, and began to wonder if Galbatorix had been right in sending them there. But none of them was prepared to return empty handed, so they continued. At last they came to something more than darkness, a shattered door that at one time could have been made with obsidian but now it was as rust. Nothing more. Inside was a chamber, covered with ancient elvish markings. At it's center was a small glacier like ice formation, that felt to the magicians more evil than the cavern itself. Yet they sensed the feint spark of long-lost energy coming from the rooms center. They spoke among themselves. " This… appears to be what we are looking for." Said the brown-haired spellcaster. "Maybe, but there is another presence here, we should be cautious." Stated the bearded mage. " Never the less." Interrupted the female magician. " We must destroy this ice, it hinders us from our mission." She turned to the swordsmen and gave them a stern " ah-hem." But the were like frightened sheep, they wouldn't even draw there blades let alone step toward the ice. She gave a dissatisfied grunt then beckoned for her fellow magicians to help her. Together, the 3 spell casters chanted in the ancient language and gathered power to them. Forming spheres of fire in there hands. Then, together in unison they threw them. Charring the ice and melting it away. After the deed was done, a man fell to the floor with a thud, as if he had been suspended in the ice. This surprised the magicians greatly. The man was clearly an elf. But he wore a kind of armor that had not been forged by the elves in thousands of years. His hair was black, and his hands were scared. They pondered whether or not they should help him, or if he was alive at all. But soon their question was answered; he stood up, slowly with his eyes shut, and cracked his neck. Fear crawled like snake though the soldiers, as it did through the magicians. The elf ran his for- finger and index finger along his temple, and then he opened his eyes and spoke. " Who are you to release me from my prison?" his voice was young, but his eyes where old, old and evil. The magicians, scared and confused, made the mistake of attempting to invade the elf's mind, in retaliation, he used his own powers to smash down the mental defenses of not only the mages, but the soliders as well, and grasp there minds in his lock of slavery. " If you will not tell me who you are, then I will extract it from you!" raising his hand, he spoke the ancient language with a commanding voice, and read all memories he wanted to from each of his captives. After he was finished. He smiled and said. " Ah, I see… I have missed much in my absence." Once more he probed his prisoners for information, finding out how they found him, and, with anguish, finding out that they discovered him by accident, and therefore could not help him find the others. In his rage he raised his hand once again and spoke the ancient word of death, therefore turning all 12 of his screaming, begging captives into a large pile of bones and ashes. Regaining his composer, he comely walked to the far end of the chamber and retrieved his ancient sword " Elzier" or " The Butcher" in common tongue. Then, walking once again to the center of the chamber, he called in the ancient language for his steed. The right wall of the chamber collapsed and out of the fracture came a terrible beast, a terrible, yet majestic beast. It had the look of a horse, but it was clearly not a horse, for it's eyes burned like coals and a shroud of darkness covered most of its body. The elf wasted no time, hopping on the creature's back, he spoke to it. " Come, my friend, there is much work to be done, we must ride to the Beor Mountains and seek the ones known as the Varden, they will help us find our brothers." The creature reared up on it's hind legs and vaulted into the air, and through the very top of the cavern itself, as they rode through the now exposed night air, the elf looked around at the terrain he had long forgotten and shouted " Prepare to know fear once again, Alagaesia!!"