Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. The world of Alagaësia is completely created by Christopher Paolini. Mr. Paolini also claims own to the characters and much of the ancient language as used here in the writing.

Please Note: This is merely an alternate ending for Inheritance that I came up with. To get into the story, I have enclosed a prologue which is a selection of the book by Christopher Paolini where the story begins. Everything after is my work.

Prologue: Selection from Inheritance

(beginning on page 718 where Saphira and Thorn are fighting Shruikan)

With three bounding steps, she leaped onto Shruikan's left fore-foot, and from there flung herself toward the side of his head, trailing fire like a comet. Uttering a shout that could be heard throughout the throne room, Arya threw the Dauthdaert into the center of Shruikan's great, gleaming ice-blue eye and buried the full length of the spear within his skull.

Shruikan bellowed and twitched, and then he slowly fell sideways, liquid fire pouring from his mouth.

Saphira and Thorn jumped clear a moment before the gigantic black dragon struck the floor.

Pillars cracked; chunks of stone fell from the ceiling and shattered. A number of lanterns broke, and gouts of some molten substance dribbled out of them.

Eragon nearly fell as the room shuddered. He had not been able to see what had happened to Arya, but he feared that Shruikan's bulk might have crushed her.

"Eragon!" shouted Elva. "Duck!"

He ducked, and he heard a whistle of wind as Galbatorix's white blade swung over his lowered back.

Rising, Eragon lunged forward…

…and stabbed Galbatorix in the center of his stomach, even as he had stabbed Murtagh.

The king grunted, and then he stepped back, pulling himself off Eragon's blade. He touched the wound with his free hand and stared at the blood on the tips of his fingers. Then he looked back at Eragon and said, "The voices…the voices are terrible. I can't bear it…" He closed his eyes, and fresh tears streamed down his cheeks. "Pain…so much pain. So much grief….Make it stop! Make it stop!"

"No," said Eragon. Elva joined him, as did Saphira and Thorn from the other end of the room. With them, Eragon was relieved to see, was Arya, burned and bloodied, but otherwise unhurt.

Galbatorix's eyes snapped open – round and rimmed with an unnatural amount of white – and he stared into the distance, as if Eragon and those before him no longer existed. He shook and trembled and his jaw worked, but no sound came from his throat.

Two things happened at once, the. Elva let out a shriek and fainted, and Galbatorix shouted, "Waíse néiat!"

Be not.

Eragon had no time for words. Again drawing upon the Eldunarí, he cast a spell to drag himself, Saphira, Arya, Elva, Thorn Murtagh, and the two children on the dais over to the block of stone where Nasuada was chained. And he also cast a spell to stop or deflect whatever might harm them.

They were only halfway to the block when Galbatorix vanished in a flash of light brighter than the sun. Then all went black and silent as Eragon's protective spell took effect.

Yes, I know that this is none of my own writing. The next chapter will be completely mine though the characters and setting are of Mr. Paolini's creation.