The new non-elf had entered Eragon's mind, and past his barriers with ease. Eka aí fricai un Shur'tugal. said the other, though it wasn't natural sounding. The ancient language probably wasn't his mother tongue. He walked calmly to the right of Eragon and waited. He then took an arrow from his quiver, then he whispered something over the arrow, and it began to pulse in black. He then notched it, and pulled the string back.

He yelled something in the same language the other non-elves were speaking before, and shot the arrow. When it was half way to them, the entire area flashed black. When the darkness faded, the six non-elves to Eragon's right had holes in their heads, and the six to the left had arrows lodged in their chests. They all fell, dead, at once. Eragon noticed that the arrows the mysterious had shot were flaming, but the flames were not yellow, or orange… They were black.

The mysterious non-elf then ran to Eragon. "Aist duil vertaílet?" he asked Eragon, but seeing the puzzled look on Eragon's face, he spoke again in Eragon's native tongue. "Are you hurt?"

"N-no…"

"Are you an elf? You look like one."

"No."

"Are you a Rider?"

"Yes… Wait… Where is Saphira? I cannot sense her!"

"Is this Saphira a blue dragon?"

"Yes."

"Then she is in danger, and we must hurry."

The non-elf then helped Eragon to his feet, and ran towards the ruined buildings. Eragon had no choice but to follow, and sure enough, there was Saphira, trying to fend off quite a few non-elves. "Why can't I feel her mind?" asked Eragon. "They have cast a spell to block all energy from entering or leaving a certain area." Replied the other. Eragon started towards the group, but the mysterious dragon rider stopped him. "It is dangerous for you to go. Look at what happened when you fought just 12 of us. Here there are even more of us, and if you went up there alone, you might… No, will die." And with that, he set off, to save Saphira.

When he neared the group of non-elves near Saphira, he stopped. He said something inaudible, and a hemisphere around Saphira and the non-elves flashed blue and then faded. Suddenly, Eragon could feel Saphira's mind, as well as her pain. The mysterious rider then drew his sword. Even at that distance, Eragon's partially elf eyes could see the blade. It was unlike any sword he had seen before. It seemed to be two swords black swords, with each half of the blade curved, like a scimitar, but each half was connected only by the hilt.

The mysterious rider swung it at a speed that was faster than any elf could ever swing. There was a cracking sound as it traveled through the air. The other moved his sword through the air at a similar speed, and also had cracked the air. The two swords hit, and many sparks fell upon the ground. Their swords then parted, and then sped towards their targets, cracking the air again, and showering more sparks on the ground. This repeated over and over, until the rider moved his sword in a slightly different manner. He had caught his adversary's sword in the middle his oddly-shaped sword and twisted it out of his adversary's hand. He then swung the sword, cracking the air, at the other's neck, and sliced it clean off. Just before he was decapitated, Eragon could see the wideness of his eyes. The rider then went right up to his next enemy, and stabbed him in the heart before he could even react. The mysterious dragon rider then sheathed his sword, and drew his bow. He shot one in the chest, and aimed his bow and arrow at another. Behind him, an attacker raised his dagger, and was about to backstab the rider, but the rider was too quick. He spun around, and sliced the dagger-wielder in half with his bow. When Eragon saw this, he was puzzled as to how could the rider slice anything with a bow. He strained to look closely at the bow, and realized that it was not made of wood. It was made with the same sort of metal his sword was made of, and was sharpened.

The rider resumed aiming at his previous target, and shot the arrow. It hit his target, but didn't kill him. He ran up to the one he hit, and sliced the head off of him with his bow, at the same time he grabbed the bloody arrow back in one swift and graceful movement. He drew his sword again, but seeing that all of his remaining enemies surrounded him, he raised his sword to the air, and yelled. "Traag, hâs iröm duil kracht!"

Lightning crashed down upon his sword, and the rider thrust the sword in to the ground, causing a shockwave to spread outward, knocking all the other non-elves into the air. "Aeit, haal!" he shouted. Eragon suddenly felt slow, as the rider moved faster, then the effect was no more. When Eragon looked back at all the non-elves, they were all decapitated, or sliced in half.

Saphira, are you OK?

I am hurt, but otherwise fine, little one. Worry not.

Eragon ran to Saphira to heal her, but saw that she was already healed. The other rider was sitting there cleaning his sword. He heals better than you, and it doesn't itch or tickle. Said Saphira, jokingly. Eragon then just remembered about Arya. The mysterious rider got up at the same moment, as if he was reading Eragon's mind. "Follow me, or wait here. Your choice." Eragon followed the rider. When they reached where Arya and her cage was, the rider put his hand on the cage, and said "Haal dian kracht." And the cage was no more.

I Own Nothing But My Own Work

Sorry for any bad grammar or any part that doesn't make much sense… It was really late when I wrote this, and I just came home from an airsoft competition…