A/N: I do not own Eragon, or Percy Jackson, and I never will. I copied this scene out of the book Brisingr, but I cut some of the stuff out, giving you just a brief overview. If you haven't read Brisingr, do so first. This is a major spoiler. If you have, you know what I cut out and whatnot. And I have only read the first three books from Percy Jackson and the Olympians. Thus, if something is irrevocably incorrect, then that's just how it is. And now, without further ado, I bring you: My version of the chapter Shadow of Doom. I will start at the point where Eragon and Arya walk into the room where the sorcerers are trying to crate a Shade. Oh, and, er, this is merely the prologue to a nice and long-ish story.

Prologue

In the center of the room stood the three magicians Eragon had glimpsed before in the city. The two men and a woman were facing each other, the hoods of their robes thrown back and their arms extended out to each side, so that the tips of their fingers touched. Thew swayed in unison, murmuring an unfamiliar spell in the ancient language. A fourth person sat in the middle of the triangle they formed: a man garbed in identical fashion, but who said nothing, and who grimaced as if in pain.

Saphira landed upon the balcony outside the room, cracking the balustrade with her tail. She knocked aside the shutters with a single blow of her paw, breaking their frames like so much tinder, then pushed her head and shoulders into the chamber and growled.

The magicians continued to chant, seemingly oblivious to her presence.

The words of their spell rang with an unusual force and lingered in the air long after they should have faded to silence. The man who sat at their feet gripped his knees, his entire body shuddering as he thrashed his head from side to side.

A cluster of multicolored lights hurtled into the room through the broken shutters and converged upon the man seated on the floor. The glowing spirits flashed with angry virulence as they whirled around the man, forming an impenetrable wall. He threw up his arms as if to shield himself and screamed. The air hummed and crackled with the energy that radiated from the flickering orbs. A sour ironlike taste coated Eragon's tongue, and his skin prickled.

A bolt of fear shot through Eragon. No! he thought, feeling sick. Not now. Not after all we've gone through!

The man started to stand, interrupting Eragon's thoughts. The color gradually vanished from the man's skin, leaving him bone white. His once-brown hair was turning crimson; his eyes became maroon.

"Our name is Varaug," the Shade said. "Fear us."

Arya attempted to kick the Shade, but he extended his arm, gripping Arya in a deadly hold.

"Rest in peace," said Varaug with a cruel smile. He snapped Arya' neck with a resounding crack, and she went limp.

"No!" Eragon yelled, both vocally and mentally. Eragon flung out his arm, shouting words in the ancient language that he didn't know the meaning of.

Varaug snarled and began to scream words of power in a language only he knew,

Stop, Eragon! Saphira yelled in his mind.

A burst of energy shot from Eragon's hand, striking Varaug between the eyes.

Before he died, the Shade whispered three last words, "Akzh, hagazh, Zeus!"

Eragon was knocked unconscious.

He was hurtling at high speeds through a black tunnel. He could see stars around him. He heard voices whispering the name Persius Jackson. He heard Brom calling him. Am I dead? he thought.

The thought seemed to echo within the darkness, haunting him.

…To be continued…

A/N: So? What did you think? Let me know, via review. Please. I beg you.