"Last Words of a Dying Sinner:"

My hands are tattered and my body is broken. Too many years have passed since those dreaded days. The days that I lost consciousness, and the days that I lost my mind. No one knows what terrible things I have done all for what I thought was for the good. "It was for the Kingdom," I told myself. "I did what was right." But with the heartache I've felt and the pain I've suffered, I ask myself each day until my final breath: "Was it really worth it?"

My mind has filled with hatred, colder than the blood stained on my hands. It drove me to foolery, and it drove me to betrayal. As my final breath comes closer, I still close my eyes and see the scaled face of my brother, who died saving my life, and the life of the country. I still remember throwing the ax towards his half-heart, and I cannot forget the earsplitting roar that escaped his throat before his golden eyes closed for the last time. It was my entire fault anyways. I should have taken the blunt of the ax, not him.

My eyes are closing now, and my breath is becoming shorter. Family, have mercy on me as you look down into Hell...where I belong.

- - - - -

Chapter 1: Beginning the End of Days

Blood stained the soil where the young teenager stood. Bodies' lay spilled about unorganized against the crimson colored grass, brought out even stronger by the smoky grey atmosphere. He held his spear in one hand, and his scratched up metal shield in the other. His skin was broken up, calloused by battle.

"The last man standing," the boy muttered, as he surveyed the dreaded landscape. "My father will be proud." He wiped the sweat from his brow and walked down the hillside slowly, listening for any cries for help from any fallen comrades. King Murtagh was a wise ruler, but the enemy got the upper hand of the battle and pushed the retreat towards the hill. The teenager grew braver, filled with adrenaline and fear, and lifted his spear up to give one last fight before going down. They fought for hours amidst the screams and battle cries until the last roar faded into a dull moan. He thanked the Gods that Murtagh was unable to fight, fearing that the ruler would have suffered the same fate as many of the other noble warriors.

Bowen? A voice appeared inside of his head. The young man turned to see a dusky brown dragon approaching from the west. He was a smaller size drake, just barely strong enough to support a rider. I am so glad you are alive.

"So am I, Draecion," he replied. "Any news about the Southern flank?"

"My father is with them,"the dragon replied. "The barbarians have attacked numerous times, but the soldiers have held them off." Draecion landed beside the boy and began licking the blood off of the boy's hair. "Your father worries greatly about you, youngling. So does Saphira. It is good that Arthur knighted you, but your safety is becoming far too risky."Bowen groaned and looked up into the young dragon's golden eyes.

"I knew the job when I accepted the sword, cousin," Bowen defended himself.

"If so, why are you fighting with a spear? And where is the armor that they wear?"

"They just haven't fitted me with it yet!"

"Sorry,"Draecion muttered, lowering his head in apology. "Look, you know I consider you as a brother, yes?"

"Of course."

"Then you must know, brothers worry about each other. I fear that you are traveling down the wrong path. Covin'thra hasn't seen you in three full months and her younglings are missing you greatly. Even the Mighty Scarred One, Thorn is having doubts about you. We all know you are a good fighter, but it is better to be wise in situations like these and let others...?"

"...Die before me?" He finished angrily. "I don't want people of a lesser family to suffer when I am ready and willing to die just like the lot of them."

"We are not worried about your desire to fulfill your duties, Bowen. We are worried about your desire to kill until you reach it. How many bodies has that spear of yours gone through?" Bowen shifted his glance to his blood covered point of the weapon and gave a smirk.

"Not enough," he replied. "As long as these savages keep trying to break apart this Nation, there will be blood on the tip."

"Where is the young child I used to fly beside?" Draecion asked. "Remember when I would fly beside you when you ran through the forest. You beat me twice."

"Those days are gone, brother," Bowen sighed. "I am a knight now, Draecion. As a knight, I swore to honor, valor, and honesty. I honor my family by fighting for them. I hold true to valor, and I can honestly say that I enjoy every second of it."

"Well, I prefer only fighting if struck first." Bowen snickered and set his spear and shield down on the dirt.

"You can't be Draken's son," Bowen chuckled. "Your father was an even better fighter than I am."

"Why do you say 'was'?" Bowen smiled and stretched his arms, flexing his biceps as he reached out.

"Simply because I have surpassed him."

"Oh please," Draecion laughed out. "My father could take you down in less than two shakes of his tail."

"He may be your father, but he was my brother first."

"You are lucky, brave one. A boy of only fifteen usually could be slapped on the top of his head for insulting a son's father." It was true. Though Bowen was the greatest warrior, he was also the youngest. His father, Eragon taught him all swordplay and worked with him on his physical endurance ever since he was of the age to walk. After Bowen beat his own father at a scrimmage fight, he was given permission by Murtagh himself to join the new Republic of Camolot. No one knew why the name "Alageasia" had been replaced, but perhaps that was why the barbarian hordes revolted against the kingdom. It used to be so peaceful, but now every village was forced to look over their own shoulders.

"If you tried, I'd rip your tail off and force you to eat it," Bowen replied with a smile. "Its about twenty leagues from here to your father, right?"

"By foot, yes."

"Mind if I get a ride over to him?" Bowen collected his weapons and waited while Draecion crouched so he could mount him.

"On one condition," Draecion stopped him. "After you help my father, you must go and visit your family. Do we have an accord?"

"Alright," Bowen muttered. "This last fight, then we'll go see them...?"

"And Covin'thra," Draecion placed in. "You better not forget her. Also, Nasuada is expecting to give birth pretty soon. They're expecting a son. Eiden."

"Great. Let's get this over with."

Oh it's going to get good...

PEACE!