Roran surveyed the battle taking place before his eyes. The fight went well; his soldiers were annihilating their opponents, and soon he would have his revenge on the one responsible for the destruction of his farm and the deaths of his father and his betrothed. He decided now was the perfect time to enter the fight, the Varden's soldiers were tired and weak; he would easily be able to destroy them. He drew his hammer and charged into the confused mass of warriors, slaying them with almighty blows. Bodies piled before him, some he saw were from Carvahall. The world went red around him, and he noticed that he was far stronger than normal, his hammer felt no heavier than a dry twig, and he was able to smash helms and shields as though they were made of glass. He killed without remorse, cracking skulls, splitting hauberks, and mutilating anyone foolish or unlucky enough to be in front of him.
After an indeterminate length of fighting, he noticed Nasuada ahead, sitting astride a huge charger and picking off his men one by one with a white longbow. She saw him, and immediately aimed and loosed an arrow in his direction. With an ease that amazed him, Roran snatched the dart from the air and, spinning it around, threw it at Nasuada's horse, goring him in the eye. The horse went down, trapping its mistress underneath. While she struggled to extricate herself from her fallen steed, Roran charged up to confront her, killing whoever got in his way. By the time he reached her, Nasuada had freed herself and pried a shield and a short, one-handed sword from the bodies at her feet. Then Roran fell upon her, swinging his hammer with inhuman speed. However, try as he might, he could not land a blow on her. Her sword blocked most of his attacks, magic protecting her from the rest, which were few. Her skill with a blade was great, but not flawless. As she prepared for a slash to his ribs, she drew her sword a little too far back, leaving herself protected only by her thin metal shield. During this brief gap in her defence, Roran charged her, knocking her sprawling on the ground. He followed the attack with a strong overhand blow, aiming strait at her head. He felt only a slight resistance as her wards failed, and his hammer met its mark, bone giving in to ruthless metal.
He released a victory roar as he stood up from his kill, howling as a dragon might, challenging the whole world to try and best him. His shout mingled with the moans of sorrow and rage as the Varden saw their leader fall, however the soldiers were too busy to answer his summons, so he focused his attention on his next task. Eragon stood beside Saphira about a hundred yards away, both of them slaughtering his men with impunity, the massive beast with her talons and razor sharp teeth, the rider with his blazing, blue sword. Roran knew he had no chance against the two of them together; he would have a hard enough time defeating Eragon alone, much less Saphira, who would sweep him aside like dead reeds in a thunderstorm, So he had his men start firing enormous catapults, wreaking carnage among the Varden. The machines were guarded by soldiers specially trained in the art of defending their mind, and were protected from magical attack. Therefore, Saphira was forced to part with Eragon in order to destroy them. That was how Roran had planed it, and his plan had worked perfectly. As soon as Saphira left Eragon, Roran Bellowed "BROTHER, I COME FOR YOU!" and smashed his way through the crowd of soldiers to Eragon.
They stood staring at each other, a torrent of emotions strong enough to kill crossing between them. The emotions consisted of sorrow and remorse on Eragon's part, hate and anger on Roran's.
"You burned my home! You killed my father! And you didn't even have the courage to come tell me in person, you cowardly, murderous bastard!"
As Roran spoke, he noticed many small cuts on Eragon's arms and legs. Good, he had waited long enough to enter the battle; the fighting had exhausted Eragon's wards.
"Roran, it was Galbatorix who-"
"It was YOUR fault!" Roran cut in, "You and your blasted curiosity. If you had any sense in your whole damn body, you would have left that bloody stone in the spine!"
"It's your fault my father's Dead, it's YOUR FAULT KATRINA'S DEAD!"
"Wh- What?" stammered Eragon.
"I found Katrina in Helgrind with her eyes pecked out, her hands chopped off, and her throat slit! The Ra'zac had tortured her, and when she wouldn't submit, they slaughtered her! "
Eragon's mouth opened and closed four times before he managed to choke out "Where are the Ra'zac now?"
"Dead, their ashes lying buried in a pile of their own dung next to Leona Lake." Replied Roran, "AND YOU WILL MEET THE SAME FATE!"
And with that, Roran crashed onto Eragon, striking as fast as he could at every bit of his cousin, the world a red haze as he strove to take his revenge upon the one who had caused him so much grief.
"THE ENTIRE BREADTH OF ALAGAESIA I CROSSED!," he screamed between blows, "IMAGINING THAT MY COUSIN THE GREAT RIDER WOULD HELP ME RESCUE THE WOMAN WHOSE CAPTURE WAS HIS FAULT!"
Roran vomited out the words.
"AND AFTER ALL YOU PUT ME THROUGH, HOW DO YOU ATONE FOR YOUR ACTIONS? BY SPITTING ON MY REQUESTS AS THOUGH I WAS NOTHING BUT A SPOILED BRAT WHINING FOR A NEW TOY!"
Roran allowed all of his hate and anger to flow into his words and his blows trying with all his might to destroy the man in front of him. However no matter how fast he was, Eragon was always faster. Every attack was blocked, every blow parried, every jab knocked aside. However, it soon became apparent that Eragon would did not wish to kill Roran, as he never attacked; only defended. They battled for hours, the ring of clashing metal the only sound in Roran's ears. Roran feared no magical attack, he knew Eragon would not kill him, and was prepared to take full advantage of that weakness. Finally, Roran broke away; Eragon remained where he stood, staring at him.
"This has to end tonight." said Roran "Understand? One of us must die!"
"I won't kill you Roran." replied Eragon.
"No," agreed Roran, "you won't!"
And Roran swung his hammer with such speed as no-one had ever seen, faster than a bolt loosed from a crossbow, faster than an elvish arrow, faster than a diving dragon, Roran's hammer fell upon Eragon's Temple, crumpling the side of his head. Eragon fell to the ground and was still.
Roran looked down upon his defeated foe, a deep sense of satisfaction arising within him. It felt like killing the Ra'zac all over again. Roran noticed Eragon's blue sword sticking up out of the ground, Brisingr, he remembered its name was, and a sudden wonder took him. He picked up the sword, and shudder seemed to run down it. So intrigued was he that all else ceased to exist.
"Was that because it despises the hand that wields it," he wondered, "or because it knows it's finally found its true owner?"
There was only one way to test it.
"Brisingr!"
The sword flared up, but the flame was not blue, as it had been for Eragon, but rather the darkest shade of black. It was then that Roran first felt what it was like to use magic. It was like a barrier had been on his mind, and now it was removed, leaving him free to access the energy around him. He found that he could control the flow of energy he was providing for the black blaze. He cut off the source, and the flame subsided, leaving Roran stunned to find the blade jet black. A pure, high note emanated from the sword, and a word a spellcaster had once cursed him with sprang to his mind.
"Sundavrgala!"
The sword shuddered, and produced the note again. It was then that Roran knew beyond doubt that he had given the sword its true name.
Saphira felt Eragon's death the moment it happened. She howled and howled, then turned to face Roran, who was holding Eragon's Sword.
"No, foul cretin, you shall not have his blade!"
And she launched a mental spear more powerful than any she could have summoned before, pushing all of her grief and anger into that one attack. But so focused was Roran, he did not even notice her. She tried to jump over to him so she might tear him apart with her teeth and claws, but the annoying-metal-covered soldiers had tossed chains over her, and were holding her wings against her shining-blue-scales, and her legs against the cold-dirt-ground. She roared her frustration that she could not reach to rip apart the murderer of her partner-of-her-mind-and-heart Eragon. She ripped and tore at her chains and crisped her captors with torrents of blue fire, but to no avail, there were just too many soldiers. She released a mental shout so loud that it could almost be heard with the naked ear.
"ERAGON!"
The shout immobilized everyone present. When it finally finished, she saw Roran turn to look at her, a malicious and evil smile on his lips, and a mad gleam in his eye. She saw his mouth move, and then she felt a sharp pinch in the middle of her brain, then darkness, darkness forever.