A/N: G'day mates. This chapter started out as a one-shot quicky out of borebom, but as you'll find, I've decided to keep going as far as my muse will take me. Enjoy if you like, sorry if you don't. But all the while, thankx for the interest.

Disclaimer: I don't own it any more then I own Shawn White (pro snowboarder)...which is not at all...too bad.

Warnings: Major Spoilers!! If you haven't read Eldest to its entirety, DO NOT read...it'll ruin the ending for you.

Oath Under Evil
Chapter 1
By: Strider X

I can feel my Rider dying beside me. Under the bloody skies of The Burning Plains, my heart wrenches at the merciless ripping tearing at the boy's young heart. Older then mine yes, but still; so young to endure such pain. His pain in mine, I do all I can to hide the grief from the mental bond we share. Gingerly, I reach out to give him strength as I catch his steps falter; though so slightly that only I am to notice as a painful twinge lurks up in our backs. No desperation, no guilt, no sheer sorrow has ever passed through our bond as strong as it does now.

"You cannot help me, Eragon. No one but Galbatorix can release us from our oaths, and he will never do that..." the low, growling voice of my dark Rider sparks a fire within my soul. Galbatorix. I would tear him to pieces with my own talons if not for the blasted curse holding us. "He knows our true names, Eragon...We are his slaves forever."

There is a resignation in his tone that I pray I will never have to hear again. Focusing all my strength, I touch his thoughts in a most comforting way in attempt to calm him. Hurtful understanding courses through my fiery veins as he reels from my touch.

"Then let us kill the two of you," says the other Rider, Eragon, with a sympathy that truly feels honest.

"Kill us! Why should we allow that?" barely contained madness seeps through Murtagh's voice like a venom. Terror shoots into my eyes when a strangled thought creeps across the small trickle of unbarred emotion between our bond. As much as he would fight to deny it, that's exactly what he wants; Murtagh wants Eragon to kill him. I can feel steaming pools of tears forming in the depths of my vermillion eyes.

The rest of the conversation means naught to me now. How could anyone put such an innocent child through so much pain that they would actually want to die? The cruelty of Murtagh's past is beyond even the comprehension of a dragon.

The next sounds to break my empathetic depression screech with the grating of the red blade Misery sliding from its sheath. Gods. Horror again crawls within my being as I feel a psychotic expression of a victim beyond their breaking point inch closer to shattering, poisoning Murtagh's face.

"If I have become my father, then I will have my father's blade. Thorn is my dragon, and a thorn he shall be to all our enemies. It is only right, then, that I should also wield the sword Misery. Misery and Thorn, a fit match. Besides, Zar'roc should have gone to Morzan's eldest son, not his youngest. It is mine by right of birth," so the truth has finally been told. Ever since Murtagh learned of his blood to Eragon, there had been a deep black cloud enveloping him. Such knowledge will make it all the more painful for us to fulfill our oath.

"You're lying!" the younger Rider cries desperately. Please don't do that...Murtagh is already hurting enough.

"...You can't deny it," Murtagh whispers in almost a jest; his lips to Eragon's ear. The maniacal expression still hovers over his dark features; even I can feel the younger Rider flinch under his gaze.

"You're wrong," Eragon growls as he continues to struggle against the spell my Rider holds effortlessly. "We're nothing alike. I don't even have a scar on my back anymore."

All the pain, all the hope, all the feeling ripping through Murtagh shatters in an unbearable slice through our hearts.

The wave of unbridled emotion crashing into my mind is like a wall of icy water; overpowering every other thought and reason within me. 'Help me...' the frightened voice of the child inside Murtagh's mind threatens to crush my heart under its weight.

'Hold on, young one,' I comfort him helplessly; unable to hide my anguish. 'It's almost over.'

As I send a surge of comfort through our reopened bond, Murtagh regains his hardened expression and lifts Zar'roc to hold it before his chest. "So be it. I take my inheritance from you, brother. Farewell."

I finally shed the breath I have been holding as Murtagh belts the cursed blade, picks up his helm, and pulls himself into my saddle. When he looked at me before climbing up my crimson scales, I could see years of unshed tears building behind cloudy azure eyes. Feeling his gaze as we take flight, not once did he allow himself another look toward his brother. While I am sure Eragon mistook such an act for betrayal and hatred, I find myself the only to know the true emotions of the silver-armored Rider masking his face with armored helm. In this battle, they had won, and we had lost...more then they know.

Minutes crawl by like years in the deafening silence around us.

'Murtagh?' I gently attempt to coax my Rider out of his dangerous silence.

'Kill me, Thorn.' the exhaustion in his voice was enough to make me falter in my flight. 'I can't take this anymore.'

What does one answer to that? 'Together, we can. We will find a way, my friend. Please, do not give up.'

Worry seeps over me like a sap when silence grows and nothing but the sound of the heavy sky rushing past fills my ears. And then, finally, 'Thorn...' he falters. 'regardless of how this may end, I'm glad you're with me. I couldn't do this on my own.'

I know his words are only a mask of the silent tears trailing down his pale face, but still, I cannot help the sigh of relief as the heavy weight of worry lightens on my wings. 'As am I, Murtagh...without you, I'd still be cramped up in that blasted egg,' worry lightens a little more at the sound of his laugh; however tragic it might sound. 'We'll find a way, fricai, we will.'

I do not know what will happen next. I can only imagine the suffering Murtagh will be forced to endure when we return to Galbatorix; the evil king will not be pleased to hear of Murtagh's failure. But if it may be any comfort to my young Rider, I will never leave his side. It is my promise. It is my swear. We will be free.

TBC

A/N2: As I said before, thankx for reading...hope you liked it, sorry if you didn't. However, if you would be so kind to leave a little review before you go? It will be greatly appreciated and replied to (if signed in). Thankx again,

Strider