A/N: Just a quick note! This is my first Eragon fic, I'm not thrilled with it but I thought I should post it before I drive myself crazy :) Please, if you take the time to read this story, review it. Constructive criticism is always welcome, but no flames please. Thank you and enjoy!

Disclaimer: Need I say that I don't own the Inheritance trilogy? If I did, would'nt I be writing the third book? And I do not own the song either. It's all Enya's.

Mornie Utúlië, Mornie Alantië

May it be an evening star
Shines down upon you
May it be as darkness falls
Your heart will be true
You walk a lonely road
Oh, how far you are from home

Lithely, he stepped out of his tent. The night had grown old but sleep still eluded him. He looked up at the stars and he couldn't find the moon. Its absence seemed like a bad omen. But then again, nothing seemed that pleasant and good right now. He lightly sat down upon the soft earth and looked towards the horizon.

How could he hope to beat the ever growing darkness whose shadow was being cast by Galbatorix himself? He had the help of another Rider now. It was him, Eragon Shadeslayer against two other Riders, both of whose skill greatly surpassed his own. But Murtagh had barely been trained and already his skill exceeded Eragon's. Why was the Dark Magic winning? Eragon had been training with the elves; the first Riders. With their training why was it that he lost so easily to Murtagh? Why? If it had not been for Murtagh's mercy he would surely be dead now. How could that be? Why was he that weak? Was not the good magic supposed to triumph?

He did not understand how he could improve his strength and his magic now. There was no time. He was alone now. Completely alone. No one could help in his plight. Not Roran, not Arya, not Nasuada, no one. They could not help him best another Rider, especially not Riders with powers such as Galbatorix's and Murtagh's. He was lost…what could he do?

Sighing, he suddenly felt weighted down. He should not have to do the things fate was forcing him to do. Young men of his age were not burdened with the responsibilities Eragon carried. He was so far from home, where his only chores had been different work around the farm. He had hunted and farmed with his uncle. But that was it. There was no mention of war except for the tales told by Brom and the everyday injustices mentioned by passing strangers. He worked hard in the day and enjoyed his time with his remaining family.

Mornie utúlië (darkness has come)
Believe and you will find your way
Mornie alantië (darkness has fallen)
A promise lives within you now

Of course, his journey had finally showed him is heritage. His naïve mind had thought that no matter who his father was, he would be proud in the knowledge. But that was not true. In truth, he didn't know what to feel about the truth of his family. Shame, yes he felt some degree of shame that he was begotten by the traitor, Morzan. But he also hoped that he wasn't weak like his father…and his brother. He hoped that there was never a time when he traded in freedom for his own life. He had to believe that he would never do that or else he would fall apart.

It was indeed a time of many atrocities when allies became enemies. When they had first come to the Varden he had himself vouched for Murtagh. He had trusted Murtagh with his life, and the trust had not been misplaced. They had been brothers in arms. Never could he have thought that when he found out that they truly were brothers Murtagh would betray him. Eragon had never thought that Murtagh's want to live would overwhelm his ability to distinguish between what was right and what was wrong. Never could he have thought that this was possible…and yet it was. He needed to accept it now, as hard as it may be. He needed to accept that his friend, and brother, was now an adversary and he had no choice but to kill him. There was just no other way. Galbatorix's corruption had done this; turned brother against brother. That was all this darkness was good for; turning family against family.

But how could this darkness be overcome? He was just one. They were two. His mind reeled when he thought about what he had to do. He had to defeat so many and such devilry. But he had made a promise, a promise to his uncle, and a promise to Brom. He had made a promise to defeat the evil that had defeated them. That was the fire that fueled his crusade against the kingdom. In the end he had to defeat this wickedness. That was the only way of it.

May it be the shadows call
Will fly away
May it be your journey on
To light the day
When night is overcome
You may rise to find the sun

But even through this despair, he knew that good must triumph at some point. Whether it was in this age or the next, this perpetual night would be overcome. Morning would come. Evil could never endure, of this he was sure. Their corruption would one day be their destruction for sure. Though this thought did not make him any happier, as people could not afford to live off of an ideal such times.

Had not Angela told him that he was to leave Alagaësia one day? Had that meant that he would fall in battle? And he would die? Or did that mean he would leave of his own free will and sail across the ocean to whatever lands lay beyond? Unless that telling was only an if preceded and followed by another great many ifs. Maybe that was only to come through if they won.

Mornie utúlië (darkness has come)
Believe and you will find your way
Mornie alantië (darkness has fallen)
A promise lives within you now

Though this darkness had fallen, there was always hope as long as the Varden, and their allies believed that they could win. Ajihad, with his dying breath, had asked him to promise to not let the Varden fall: to guard it. And guard it he must. Until their faith and beliefs broke, there was still hope that they would win. Moral was still high as their Rider led them. It fell upon him to lead them, for without him they didn't have much.

He stood up and brushed away these heavy thoughts. Right now all he needed to focus on was helping Roran. He needed to help his real brother rescue Katrina. That was the only promise that mattered at this moment.

A promise lives within you now