This story begins after Murtagh has been carried away in Chapter 1.

Murtagh flew across the land, speeding faster than any animal could run. The land before him blurred between brown of the earth and green of the tree, such was the speed of his captor.

He could not see his captor, as he had been bound facing the earth, cast away from the sky. At first, Murtagh was terrified, having awoken to find himself a thousand feet in air. Having never flown before, even around Eragon, he could not at once recall what was happening. However, as he heard the flap of wings, and saw the faintest clouds below him, realization struck him - he was flying.

Before he could control himself, Murtagh screamed in fear, struggling and kicking. The reaction was instinctive, without thought. He drew his muscles taught, but found he could not move. As he had looked at his arms and body, he found thick black ropes which bound him to his captor, whatever it may be. His legs had been draw around his body, enclosed in the rope.

As the last of the unwanted sleep left him, he could feel his legs excruciatingly cramped. His muscles yearned to free themselves, but they could not and he endured.

" "

The Varden was celebrating their victory, but it was short lived. The damage done had been severe, and their secret stronghold was decimated, destroyed, and revealed. The Varden had to muster their forces and find a new route of attack, a new way in which to hide and ponder their next moves.

Nasuada's father watched the ruins of his stronghold and grimaced. They had held their secret fort for so many years. For a while, they had believed they could win, plotting against Galbatorix. He had actually believed they could have defeated Galbatorix sitting in a mountain, in a fool's security. Now he realized the time of action had come. The catalyst known as Eragon, that called himself the last Dragon Rider, has pushed actions forward.

He had blamed Eragon earlier for his fort's decimation, but as he looked back, he realized it was his own fault. He had believed that the Varden was invulnerable, and it was his fault for the lack of preparation. The Dragon Rider could only be a good thing, an aide in the war for freedom, unless he should fall as so many before him have…

His thoughts trailed to Eragon's mysterious partner, the son of…

But no, Eragon had confirmed his loyalty, but nevertheless…He felt that Eragon's companion, Murtagh, concealed more than they knew, more then even the Twins could divulge. After all, not all evils can be erased – erase one and another would arise in its place.

As he thought about it, a thought occurred to him. Where had Murtagh gone? Of course, the battle was only just finished; he may still be in the battlegrounds. Yet, it was odd. The Twins had given them no support, and he had not seen Murtagh in the battle.

Suddenly, a horn sounded, startling him from his reverie. It was the horn that sounded only during battle, but the battle was indubitably over. Imbecile, he thought. As he turned to glimpse the entrance toward the mountain entrance, a faint glimmer caught his eye, and as he looked ahead, fear washed over him.

Another parade of Galbatorix's minions marched forth, fast. He drew his sword and prepared for the fight. In his mind, he knew this fight would be his last. The Dragon Rider was nowhere to be seen, and his soldiers were gone. This was the last stand.

Nasuada, he thought, lead the Varden well…

" "

The flight had been long, and night had dawned, but at long last, Murtagh arrived. He did not know where he was, but he could feel solid earth once more, and the warmth of the ground. In a whirl of flapping, his captor flew off, possibly. Murtagh did not know.

The ropes around him suddenly dissolved. In an instant, Murtagh leapt up and stood. He could feel his leg muscles slowly stretching, unknotting the tangle of muscle. He stretched, pulling his limbs as far apart as he could. The cramp began to fade, and Murtagh quickly examined his surroundings, still wary of attack.

Raising his head, Murtagh found himself on a cliff, looking out a plain of land. He stared at the cliff he stood upon, and frowned. The cliff was not of natural means, but polished and smooth. The smooth surface shone like satin, reflecting the blackness of the night. Gazing upward, Murtagh could not see any stars. The darkness of night was absolute, veiling even the light of stars.

Murtagh heard a rustle behind him and whipped around, but he saw nothing. Only an enormous mountain greeted his gaze. About 100 paces before him, the cliff lay perpendicular to the mountain wall, which seemed to stretch into infinity. Murtagh felt himself shrinking, diminishing in size and strength. It was a strange feeling, as if the mountain was actually drawing the willpower from him.

Suddenly, Murtagh felt an inexorable force draw him. The Fisherman had thrown his reel and dragged Murtagh in. In an instant, Murtagh realized where he was, and fear burst inside him.

Before he could ponder further, he was flung forward plunging into the mountain. Without thinking, he braced himself for collision, only to find the mountain give way. Murtagh plunged through without resistance and fell to the ground, hard. Pain jolted his senses.

"Murtagh…" a voice spoke, "you have come at last…"

Murtagh flung around, fearing the voice he heard. Before him stood the man he feared the most, the man whose voice he dreaded at night.

The man was too horrendous to describe. The raw power that emanated from him burned Murtagh's eyes. The sheer force, with which he gazed into Murtagh's mind frightened Murtagh, yet pulled him somehow. The feeling frightened him. Another wave of fear crashed into him.

Galbatorix stood before him.

"Oh, Murtagh, will you not look at me? I am nearly your uncle, am I not?" Galbatorix said.

Murtagh did not look, but turned away even farther. He feared for more than his life.

Galbatorix threw away the façade of benevolence. A sneer grew on his face as he said, "Obey me! Get up!"

Suddenly, Murtagh felt his body snap back and lift into the air. He turned to see Galbatorix with his hand out. Murtagh knew at once what it was – magic. He had seen Eragon perform magic, but never this kind. He knew to lift someone required tremendous energy, and yet, Galbatorix lifted him without exertion. When he was turned completely around, Galbatorix released his hold, letting Murtagh fall to the ground. Murtagh coughed as dust blew in his nose.

I will kill you when I get the chance…Murtagh thought, anger clouding his mind.

Galbatorix let out a cold chuckle. "But you shall not get the chance, you see? And even if you should…I can not die."

He can read one's mind, not even Eragon could do it. Imposs-

"Impossible?" Galbatorix questioned. "Oh, Murtagh, it is beyond possible. And you, you too can learn how. More than you could ever learn from Eragon or his foolish mentor, Brom."

"What?" Murtagh replied. "What do you mean?"

For a second, Murtagh frowned, and then realization dawned.

"Never! I will NEVER fight for you!" Murtagh cried out. Murtagh thought he saw Galbatorix smirk.

"I fear you have no choice…but come," Galbatorix said, "let's talk of this another day. Your mind is weary, and can not grasp logic even if I fed it to you in a spoon. I will see you tomorrow." He gestured to a table full of food. "There is food if you would like, and beware – Galbatorix's fortress can not be escaped."

Galbatorix stared at Murtagh for one last moment and disappeared.

Murtagh glanced at the food, looking where Galbatorix had stood. Murtagh's eyes narrowed, looking for some trap; however, he found none. Looking at the food, Murtagh felt a rumble from his stomach interrupt his thoughts. Whatever happened, he had to eat. And then, without reluctance, Murtagh sat at the table and tore into the food, tearing at succulent meat. A dribble of juice fell from his mouth, but he did not care. Hunger overpowered his mind.

In Galbatorix's chambers, Galbatorix spoke to two figures. "You shall engage him tomorrow. When the sun rises, wake him up."

One of the figures spoke back. "Master, may we-"

"Yes," Galbatorix replied, "do whatever you would like. But remember, if you kill him, you're lives shall pay for his death a thousand times over."

The two figures visibly shook at this threat. "Y-yes master. W-we ob-obey."

"Then it is done." Galbatorix disappeared once more, traversing to wherever he would go.

The two figures smiled to each other. "Brother, do you know what I think?"

"What, brother?"

"I think our time has begun. With Murtagh on our side, Galbatorix will be unstoppable, and we shall be at his side. His side!"

The Twins laughed, and wondered at their future power.