A/N: I JUST DISCOVERED THIS PIECE AND IT WAS EPIC SO HERE!

Sorry about that. This one was odd. I actually started this intending it to be to 'Yellow Valkyrie', but it went in another direction, so I went with this piece. Listen to it while reading! It's a fantastic ReMix, if a bit short. I mean, what do you expect from DarkeSword?

Anyway, here's our crossbreed Friendship/Drama genre fanfic to the song. Enjoy.

DarkeSword's ReMixes Project

Piece Five: Through the Dark

Eragon crept through the silent, stone hallway. The place was a mass of black rock and mortar, made fully impregnable by magic, and one of the most dangerous places in the world.

This was Urû'baen.

And it was clearly not as untouchable as it seemed. Eragon was here, after all, while Saphira, Arya, Tréva, the Elves, the Dwarves, the Werecats, and the Varden all caused utter havoc at the very gates. But Eragon knew this had to be done by him. Just him, alone and unaided.

The citadel of the Empire was quite empty, save for a surprisingly large number of dogs. Eragon wondered why. The men were all outside, fighting the young man's army, of course, but why dogs?

And these were clearly not even fighting animals! The beasts were all slightly plump, and exceedingly docile. Not one of them so much as barked at him, even when he moved to scratch behind their ears. Was it possible that King Galbatorix had a soft spot for these animals? Did he care for them as pets? Or even as friends? Eragon knew that dogs raised as pets were often viewed as partners by their owners, but he somehow couldn't wrap his head around the thought of Galbatorix loving anything – especially not a dog.

Eragon shrugged off his thoughts and continued onward. He was somewhere in the western wing, he thought. Galbatorix, it was said, had his throne room situated right at the top of the central spire. Eragon was sure it was true – the man quite definitely had a superiority complex of epic proportions, and would want to gaze imperiously down on all he ruled.

I imagine he's seeing quite a view now… the Rider thought, chuckling. The battle would definitely give the tyrant a view. Eragon imagined his face when he'd seen Thorn's true name change just before he landed a killing blow on Saphira. What had happened then was that Saphira and Tréva held him down so he couldn't return to Galbatorix as he'd been enchanted to do should his name change, while the elves placed a ward to stop his and his Rider's escape. From then it had been clear that Galbatorix needed to die. As soon as possible. Otherwise, the elves powering Thorn and Murtagh's wards would die – their magic run dry.

Eragon's heart thudded in his chest. He had stepped out of the corridor into a massive antechamber. In the back was a single, massive, jet-black throne was placed before the start of a tall spiral staircase that led straight up. This is it, Eragon thought. It all ends here. At the end of those stairs… I know what will be waiting for me.

He stood there for a moment, and then, quickly contacted Saphira. A wave of affection and worry swept over him as his mind touched hers. Little One? Is everything all right? Do you need help?

I'm fine, Saphira, he told her softly. I'm at the start of the stairs leading up to him.

Then good luck, Little One, she said, and sent him a rush of encouragement.

Thank you, Saphira, but that's not why I wanted to talk to you, said the Rider to his Dragon. Saphira, I may not make it out of this. You know that, don't you?

A moment of silence, and then… Yes, Little One. I know.

I want you to promise me something, said Eragon.

Anything, my Rider, said Saphira in a voice that, had it been human, might well have been full of tears.

Two things, actually. First, he said, I want your promise that, should I die, you'll do all you can to survive.

I… she hesitated for an instant, and then said, I'll try.

Thank you, my Dragon, he said. Second, Saphira, I want you to do what I know that, even now, your Eldunarí is telling you to do. Take Thorn far away and become the mother you long to be.

At her stunned silence, he continued, You couldn't hide all of it from me, Saphira. I know what you feel for him. Should I die, take the hole that is left in your heart and fill it with him. He loves you too – I could see it in his eyes. It's why his true name changed. Don't be afraid to do something about it. Wiol eka?

Wiol ono, Shur'tugal, she said, and suddenly the young rider was assaulted by such a wave of love and devotion as he'd never felt before. But don't die.

Eragon grinned. I don't intend to. And, severing the connection, he ascended the stairs.

Galbatorix was waiting. "Well, boy," he said softly. "I'm glad to meet you at last."

Eragon at once realized what Murtagh had meant when he said the King's voice crept into the mind and wrapped about the brain. He felt no mental probe in his mind, yet at once, in an instant, as he looked into the King's eyes and heard his voice, he could tell that, somehow, the King had guessed his true name.

Suddenly Eragon's mind flew back in time; back to the day – how long ago, now? – when he'd met Angela and Solembum in the witch's shop in Teirm. Go to the Rock of Kuthian, and speak your name to open the Vault of Souls… the Werecat's voice whispered in the back of his mind. Well, Eragon had. At the Rock of Kuthian, and ancient relic deep in the Hadarac desert, he'd spoken his own true name – and the Vault of Souls, an ancient iron-bound chest, had opened. Inside had been a tablet. A tablet with seven words in the ancient language inscribed upon it.

Eragon had heard those seven words before. They were the words Brom had told him as he died.

He hadn't understood them when he found them. The tablet had said 'to use them only once you knew their meaning.' Now, at last, he did.

Why had Brom never used it? he pondered. With those words, he could have done anything! Perhaps even raise the dead!

How Brom had found the secret, Eragon would never know. It was far too late now to ask.

But the seven words were the true name of the ancient language. Of that there was no longer any doubt.

And Eragon spoke them now. Galbatorix's words – which would have been Eragon's true name, died on his lips. His eyes widened. "How… how…?" The King whispered, incoherent.

Eragon wasn't listening. In that instant when the last syllable had left his lips, he'd suddenly felt the magic of the ancient language all around him. He felt the bursts of power that were the Elves' spells, the burning strength of the Dragons' fire, the power of the Eldunarya hidden all about Galbatorix's person. He closed his eyes, concentrating.

It took only a fraction of a second, with Eragon's heightened state of being, to augment the power of the Elves' spells and the Dragons' fire, as well as break the enchantments on Thorn and Murtagh. He heard Galbatorix gasp as a portion of his energy was ripped from him. The young man then proceeded to awaken the Eldunarya serving the King – to beg them not to give him their power. They willingly agreed, sensing that the boy had the power of all of magic behind him.

I wonder if this is what it feels like to be a god, Eragon thought dreamily. It's not so bad. His eyes opened again and he stared into the tyrant King's eyes, a feral grin crossing his features.

"No magic for you," he said softly, and charged forward with magically-augmented speed, his sword drawn and flaming.

It would be no contest. Galbatorix was already finished.

A/N: So, was it good? I've always thought Eragon was bound to find the Name in the Vault of Souls. I mean what else? Besides Team Soul, of course, to those of you who follow my Team Soul Trilogy. Anyway, review, if it's not too much trouble!