Chapter 4

Eragon opened his eyes and abruptly shut them again. He wanted to return to his world of darkness, nothing mattered. It didn't matter if everybody thought he was dead or that the Varden may fall without him. Please Saphira, do what I asked. Be happy, make my dreams come true. I endure this just for the others, for the greater good. Arya endured, so can I. Arya, what I would do to see your face. Say 'I love you' one more time. Eragon tried lifting himself onto the dirty cot in the far wall of his cell. My cell. I'm a captive of the empire. Rescue seems so far away, not possible.

Eragon started by lifting his head but a wave of nausea hit him. He groaned and moved his arm and groaned again. Pain was the only feeling. He tried once more. Gritting his teeth he put his hands underneath him and heaved himself into a sitting position. He steadied himself as a wave of dizziness struck him. How much more of this can I take? Beatings, whippings, burnings, and so many other torture mechanisms of Galbatorix's creation. But I will not give in. I will not be a tool of destruction for the king.

He looked around his cell. It was dark and damp. The only source of light was from candles lining the hallway. Lifting his arms he found his wrists in shackles, a length of chain long enough to get a few feet from the door. His mind was foggy from the drug that suppressed his magic.

After sitting on the floor for a few minutes, he heard it; the thud of boots on stone. Then the shuffle of many feet followed as they made a path for the king. He walked over to the cot and sat down even as every muscle in his body screamed in protest. Look strong; be strong, just in front of the king. Eragon thought as his door opened.

"Well, well young rider. So we meet again. Have you reconsidered my offer," Galbatorix said with his velvet voice.

"I will never join you," Eragon stated with determination. He gritted his teeth in preparation for whatever will follow.

"Very well," Galbatorix said harshly, abandoning his soft voice. "My soldiers aren't very convincing so I must personally attend to you." Without any warning Eragon felt a dark blanket wrapping around his mind, like a snake squeezing the life out of him. The king started to crush his defenses but Eragon thought of the people he loved, the ones he was fighting for. Saphira, Arya, Roran, the Varden, the dwarves, the elves. He summoned strength that he didn't know he still had and started to push the king out of his mind, building back the stone walls around his mind. Eragon opened his eyes and saw Galbatorix in the doorway not looking tired at all. "Well, we do have some potential after all, young rider. But torture will always break a man's mind. You just might take a little longer." With that he called in two soldiers that unlocked his shackles and dragged him down to the end of the corridor. There they were standing in front of a black, wooden door that he knew too well.

The soldiers push open the door to reveal the multitude of torture mechanisms. Eragon lifted his head and braced himself. The two soldiers dragged him to the whipping post and suspended his hands above him. They ripped of what he had left of his torn and dirty tunic that was once white.

"Let's start with an easy question, yes or no. I ask once again, young rider, will you join me?"

"And again, you foul-man-who-calls-himself-king, I say never will I serve you." With that a whistling sound followed by a crack as the whip hit his back. Eragon winced but didn't yell out. Be strong, don't break. For the people I love and I fight for.Galbatorix ruthlessly whipped him on his back ten more times. Eragon bit his lip, drawing blood. He wouldn't break now, not ever.

"No cries for mercy yet? Very well," the king said and let the whip hit his back, then his legs and a handful on his neck. By the fortieth one, Eragon could hold back his pain and he let loose a cry. His yell reverberated throughout the room. "I give you another chance, rider. Will. You. Join. Me?" He enforced each word by following it with a whip.

"Never. I will never join you," Eragon said defiantly.

"If you will not join me, tell me where the elves are hiding." Silence followed the king's demand. Eragon waited for more pain. He saw Galbatorix walk over the branding irons. He picked up his favorite design, a claw of a dragon. With a few words he had it glowing cherry red. "Last chance. Tell me where the elves are." Eragon remained silent. Galbatorix took the iron a placed it square on Eragon's chest. Eragon screamed again. The king pushed a little harder and added more heat to it. Eragon, unable to hold anymore pain, screamed and his vision started blurring. He faintly smelled burning flesh, his flesh. Galbatorix took the iron and put it back on the rack. "Think it over rider. I offer you the chance for peace and freedom. I offer you power, a seat on the throne."

Eragon eyes started to close as he was no longer strong enough to keep them open. Galbatorix punched him in the ribs, breaking two, and Eragon fell into darkness.

"Soldiers, take him to his cell. Get the healers to only heal him enough to stay alive."

A group of three soldiers came over and unshackled the unconscious Eragon, hurrying of to carry out their assignment. A forth soldiers ran up to the healers room. The three hauled the Eragon's limp body down the corridor and opened his cell door, throwing him inside like a sack of potatoes. The forth soldier came down with a woman. She looked about twenty, had blonde, shoulder-length hair, and had a brown satchel slung across he shoulder.

"Here 'e is. His majesty said only enough to keep 'im alive." The woman nodded. She sat down by Eragon and using the little magic she possessed healed his ribs. She didn't gasp or flinch at the sight of the rider. She had been around so many of his prisoners that she was numb to the sight of a tortured person.

Eragon wasn't in his familiar world of blackness. He was in his memories. Eragon saw him self in Ellesméra. The elves' capitol brought back so many memories, happy and painful. Memory after memory flashed through his mind. He was training with Oromis and Saphira was flying overhead with Glaedr, then he was under the Menoa tree, then sitting in his tree house. His memory wandered over to his masters' funeral.

The day after the battle at Feinster, Islanzadí invited him and Saphira to Oromis and Glaedr's funeral. They flew to Gil'ead and paid their respects. Eragon gave a speech and Saphira gave the best gift possible. At the end of the services she placed her snout of Glaedr's body. They sank into the ground, nothing happened for a while after that. Then, suddenly, a statue of Oromis, with Naegling drawn, on Glaedr's back rose from the ground. Glaedr was depicted with a jet of flame coming out of his mouth. The statue was made out of diamond with swirled gold.

He was still in his memories but could feel the pain in his body. That meant he was going to wake soon. Eragon felt arms rap around his waist and place him on his cot. He let out a faint groan. He felt the person hesitate. She set him down on his cot and left. Eragon woke a few minutes afterwards. He crawled over to the plate of food they left him –stale bread and water. He ate his meal and put on his tunic that was left next to the tray. Getting up, ignoring his body's protests and lying back down on his cot. Saphira, if you can hear me. I will return to you, somehow.

well.

"I will let you into my mind, but if you stray anywhere you shouldn't, well, you will have a very angry dragon and elf to deal with." Murtagh nodded. Arya found herself inside Uru'baen. Memories flash by showing passage after passage. Then she was taken downstairs into the dungeons. She walked down various corridors until she came to a cell that was heavily guarded –Eragon's cell. The flow of memories stopped. "Thank you," was all that Arya could say.

We should all go tell Nasuada the good news. Saphira said projecting her thoughts to everyone in the clearing. Both riders nodded and set off to the Nasuada's tent.