Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Inheritance cycle nor am I Christopher Paolini. The only things I own are my ideas, my clothes and my ass, so don't burn it.

Chapter 7

Eragon groggily opened his eyes and found himself face to face with gloomy, overcast weather. He could tell that it was only morning, but the skies above were dark and grey. The sun was obscured by the clouds and there was no wind blowing at all.

'The calm before the storm,' Eragon mused to himself, 'and oh, what a storm it's going to be…'

He slowly sat up, tapping on Saphira's scales as he did to wake her up. He yawned and rubbed his sore legs. Saphira, wake up. It's time to kill the Shade.

Saphira's right eye flickered open and she glared at Eragon slightly. Go kill him yourself. I'm exhausted.

Eragon rolled his eyes and stood up to get some water from Saphira's saddlebags. You're a dragon; you're supposed to be inexhaustible. He drank deeply and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. Now come on, we have to go and rescue the elf.

Saphira's eyes finally opened fully and stared at Eragon with interest. Why 'the elf'? What happened to 'Arya'?

Eragon looked away and mumbled, If you must know, I thought that distancing myself from her by calling her by species would distance us emotionally as well. Now shut up and let's go kill the bloody Shade.

Saphira's eyes twinkled with amusement but she did not do anything further to embarrass Eragon. She merely stood up and stretched her wings. She winced.

Immediately concerned, Eragon went over to her side. Are you alright?

I'll live, she said grimly. It hurts, but not too badly.

Without a word, Eragon pulled Aren out from his clothes and, using an imperceptible amount from the vast amount of energy in it, he healed Saphira's bruised and tired muscles as well as his own. We need to be in top condition when we go up against the Shade, Eragon said by way of explanation, tucking the ring into his clothes once more.

Well, I definitely don't mind, though I will certainly curse myself if I find that the bit of energy we just used could have been used for something else far more important just so that we could be more comfortable. Saphira remarked as Eragon settled into his usual spot on her neck.

I'd curse myself if we got ourselves killed because our muscles were too tired, Eragon retorted.

Saphira didn't reply to this, choosing instead to take off into the air.

They hung there for a while as Eragon cast the necessary wards and spells to protect them from arrows and unexpected flying missiles. There was no room for mistakes, no time for them to waste healing an arrow wound.

When Eragon was finished, Saphira swiftly glided towards Gil'ead, but angled upwards. In just a few minutes, they were over the prison. They were far enough that no one on the ground would be able to see them, but with their now powerful vision, it was easy for them to make out all the details. The prison was a hulking mass of grey stone surrounded by a large, spiked iron gate. It was ugly, but it got the job done, said job being to keep the prisoners locked in. Eragon doubted that anybody would be able to climb the 15-foot high gate in a short enough amount of time that the guards wouldn't notice them. There were guards patrolling the inside of the gate and also several guards of the roof on the building. There wasn't a sliver of doubt that there were countless more guards patrolling inside the prison. They were each carrying a sword and a shield. Those on the roof had bows and arrows slung on their shoulders. There was one person in each spot, presumably the leader of each faction, who had a large spear by his side.

No one but someone with a flying, stealthy creature, such as a dragon, would have been able to get close enough to have taken note of all those things. It was a good thing, then, that Eragon had a dragon. He also had the skills to take out all of those guards.

He reached out with his mind as quietly as he could, intent on not alerting the guards below to what he was trying to do. He tried to get a feel of them, to figure out if they were guarded by any wards that would foil his spells and thus waste their chances of not being spotted and shot down from below.

Unfortunately, wards are triggered by less than that, and the leader of the guards on the roof suddenly looked up anxiously. Eragon cursed and muttered all the twelve words of death in a short spell. Twelve of the 24 guards suddenly fell like puppets that had had their strings cut. Evidently, the wards they had didn't cover that spell.

The problem with killing half of the guards on the roof was that the others immediately took notice of the skies. They looked up, one banging a short signal onto the trapdoor beneath his feet. Eragon sighed and repeated the spell as some of them began to nock their arrows. He regretted that apparently he would now have to fight his way through all the guards in the prison.

There was now no movement from the guards; there were only 24 dead bodies lying motionless on the roof. Eragon felt no mercy for them; he was only doing what he needed to do.

That was…quick… Saphira commented.

I'm no longer the young boy who felt bad about stealing those leather hides. I'm different, remember? Killing is no longer hard, more a case of need. Eragon answered coolly as Saphira quickly descended.

How true. Saphira agreed.

Eragon jumped off Saphira's back the moment they were near the roof and drew Zar'roc. He could hear the sound of numerous heavy footsteps coming up from the trapdoor of the roof. It had definitely been a bad idea to announce their entrance by killing two dozen guards.

The trapdoor was suddenly pushed open and guards poured out of it, only to have themselves burnt to a crisp in their armor by a waiting Saphira. She went nearer, not stopping her fire until her fire was pouring directly into the small hole. The guards tried to back away the moment they saw the fire, but the narrow passageway made it a natural furnace. They were all burnt to death in mere minutes.

Eragon patted Saphira's scales before going down the stairs. They both knew that she would need time to widen the entrance before even her head could get in. It was dangerous to split up, but necessary. The screams of the burning guards had most likely made all the guards who were left come running. Neither Eragon nor Saphira wanted to wait at the entrance until they managed to burn all the guards. They had come into the lion's den, now they would have to go on; they had to be the offensive party.

The heat from the stone floors seeped into his boots, making his feet blister. Eragon ran forward stealthily, chopping down guards that came running from the opposite side before they even saw him. Increased running speed from his transformation was certainly useful.

Soon, Eragon reached the end of the passageway. The last cell on the highest floor… Eragon recalled Brom's words that he seemed to have heard so long ago.

He took a deep breath and opened the lock of the last cell with magic. The metal door swung open and revealed an empty cell.

Eragon stared blankly at the empty cell for a few seconds, taking in the bloodstains on the floor. Then he cursed and whirled towards the spiral staircase that was just behind him. Flickering torches made shadows play on the walls of the stairs, repeatedly startling Eragon and getting his nerves on edge when each time it was just a nothing more than his own shadow getting ahead of himself.

He jumped the last few steps and landed nimbly and silently on the ground. The staircase opened out into an empty room. There was nothing in it except two huge wooden doors at the very end of the room.

Immediately apprehensive, Eragon walked slowly towards the doors. He had a feeling that things weren't supposed to be this way. This room shouldn't have been empty, and Arya should have been in her cell. That was the plan. Kill the guards, get Arya out, kill the Shade, and get out. That was the plan. When you stuck to the plan, everything was great. You'd stay alive. But now, everything was wrong. Most likely the whole prison knew of the intruders in the form of a Rider, Arya wasn't where she was supposed to be, and this room… This very room was sinister. Something was definitely wrong.

Eragon drew himself up to his full height, raised Zar'roc to guard his face, and, using as much strength as he could muster, pushed the doors open.

The wooden doors slammed open much easier than Eragon expected, and the strength he used was obviously far too much. The doors slammed against the inside of the room and almost bounced back onto his face, but he was too shocked by the contents of the room to notice his embarrassing deed.

The room was at least five times the size of Eragon's own house, and with a ceiling that seemed to never end. The cold stone floors lighted by more flickering torches on each side of the room gave the room a dungeon feel, but that wasn't what shocked him.

There were several figures standing in the middle of the room, so Eragon looked there.

The Shade, standing tall and proud in black armor, with his long, thin sword drawn, Arya lying in a heap at his feet angered him, but that wasn't what shocked him.

What shocked, and scared him, were the two men flanking the Shade. One was the brown haired man he had first seen with the Ra'zac. The look of hate he had once seen on the man's face had been replaced by a look of cold disdain. The look was mirrored by the man on the other side of the Shade. This was the man who scared the shit out of him, because this man had silver eyes, and blonde hair. He looked just like Scorpius. Eragon felt freaked out, but then his attention was caught by the two dragons that stood behind the men. One was red, the other green. Both were male, and were of roughly the same size. The dragons, too, stared at Eragon with looks of disdain.

Eragon's attention was shifted again, this time back to the man who looks exactly like Scorpius. But it couldn't be Scorpius, could it? No! Scorpius was dead…wasn't he?

"Eragon Son-of-none. We meet again." Oh fuck. It even sounded like Scorpius. If it looks like a duck…and it quacks like a duck… Only in this case, replace the word duck with scorpion. Holy shit.

Eragon shifted, and swallowed, but said nothing. He gripped Zar'roc tighter. The odds were certainly crap. Two Riders, one who was supposed to be dead, and a Shade, versus the lone Rider without his dragon.

Still, Eragon wasn't going to back down. That would have been a sign of weakness. It would also mean leaving Arya behind. And most of all, he would probably be stabbed through the back if he so much as turned around.

Eragon took a closer look at Scorpius and noticed something interesting, and possibly deadly. The maniacal gleam that had once been in Scorpius' eyes was gone. The only thing left behind was a controlled, cold genius. Whereas Eragon once had a slight advantage over Scorpius because of his out of whack personality, the advantage was now gone. They were still on an uneven playing field, but the roles were reversed, and Eragon was now the one who was in danger of dying.

Scorpius raised his eyebrows at Eragon's scrutiny, before saying, "Surprised to see me, brother?', not waiting for a reply, he went on, "Well, let's just say I don't die so easily. Fire is my friend, and drama is my partner. Nobody who's really on fire screams like that, you idiot. I just cast a spell to make me unseen and walked out the back door. Oh yes, and didn't I mention I was a Rider too? Meet Salazar.' The dragon gave a mock bow of its neck at Eragon, and he noticed with shock that the dragon's eyes were silver, like its master, instead of green like its scales. 'I've been under the Lord's wing for years. I'm the best kept secret of the Empire."

Eragon gaped, and his mouth fell open, but he quickly snapped it shut.

The Shade smirked and said, "Hello Rider. Come to rescue your little elf, have you? Oh yes,' the Shade continued at Eragon's confused look, 'I knew you were coming, so my two ah…bodyguards prepared this little room just for you. And how did I know, you might be wondering? Well, let's just say that when the elf is in pain, it's easier to see into her mind and listen to every single conversation she's having with herself.'

The Shade shrugged and went on, "And usually, the conversations are pretty boring, because it's mostly conversation with herself about how she's not going to tell us anything, but yesterday's conversation…fascinating. Oh, and by the way, you can call me Durza."

Eragon's first reaction was to say, "Isn't that some kind of insect?"

The Shade roared and threw his sword at Eragon, who easily ducked it, causing the sword to embed itself in the wooden door that had closed of its own accord. "You will pay for that remark, foolish child." The Shade hissed.

Innocently, Eragon said, "How do you intend to make me pay, seeing as you don't even have a weapon now?"

The look on the Shade's face darkened, and he started muttering things that sounded suspiciously like incantations. Eragon frowned and realized that he was probably in danger of being attacked by spirits.

"Brisingr!" He didn't expect the fireball to hit, and it was merely meant as a distraction, but either the Shade was too absorbed in his chanting or he forget about wards against fire, because the fire hit the Shade's armor, and set it on fire.

The Riders on either side of him turned to stare at him as he stared down at his burning chest. Apparently, black armor was flammable. The Shade yelped and with a few short words, the fire was put out.

Battles, you see, are not as dramatic or amazing as they are in movies. Not everybody has to stand there waiting for someone to blink before they start slicing and dicing. Some fights, like this one, start off with egotistical banter, because they have no other idea how to start and because all the male testosterone in the room needed an outlet. All the chatting wasn't just for fun, it was their preliminaries, just like dogs, who stare at the other dog, waiting for alpha male to show itself before they start fighting.

Their preliminaries were done, and so the fight began.

Scorpius drew his rapier and jumped on his dragon's back. The brown haired man, whose name Eragon still didn't know, did the same, but his dragon, unlike that of Scorpius', flew towards the huge black curtain that covered the back wall of the room, not even bothering to look at Eragon anymore. Scorpius shot him a dark look, a mixture of distrust and jealousy, before turning back to Eragon.

Durza roughly kicked Arya to the side of the room, making Eragon wince in her stead. The Shade then muttered a quick word, and the sword stuck in the door suddenly flew out and landed in his pale hand.

The battle was begun, and Eragon was alone. He didn't even dare to contact Saphira because he had firmly blocked his mind from all outside forced. He didn't want to give unnecessary chances to his enemies. They had enough advantages as it was.

The Shade started running towards Eragon, and close behind was Scorpius on Salazar.

Eragon felt his heart start to beat faster and he willed himself not to move. He gathered as much of his strength as he could, and just before they could reach him, he whispered a spell of invisibility. He disappeared and stepped aside. Since the Shade's momentum was way too much, he couldn't stop when he saw Eragon suddenly disappear and he crashed into the door. Salazar was luckier; he simply raised its wings and did an abrupt turnabout.

Eragon started running towards the other side of the room, even though the brown haired man was there. He ran in a zigzag pattern, throwing fireballs over his shoulder all the while. He heard more yelps and deduced that his aim wasn't that bad.

He stopped when he got to the middle of the room. The distance was too far to throw more fire and far enough that he would see whichever side coming at him.

Salazar roared and Scorpius winced slightly. The Shade was fuming, literally. Smoke was pouring off his armor, thanks to the fire that had hit his armor and burned it. Eragon grinned.

"Rider! You filthy mongrel! Show yourself and fight like a man!" The Shade practically screamed.

With another silent spell, Eragon said, "If you were all men, you would fight me one by one, not 5 versus one." His voice thundered throughout the room and was echoed by the stone walls, thanks to the spell. It prevented them from finding him via his voice, at least.

Salazar whirled and sniffed the air suspiciously. Fool! He broadcasted out loud, You forget that you still have a smell! And then the dragon was flying towards him. There was a look of triumph on Scorpius' face as he sat straight and tall on his dragon's back. Durza looked desperate, and seemed to be trying to outrun Salazar.

Eragon knew he was in a deep load of crap. He had only his sword, which was no use against dragons, and he had his magic, but they had more magic. The odds may have been against him, but he sure as hell wasn't going to lie down and die. If he was going out, he was going out fighting. Cliché as hell, but he'd be damned if he, the last good Rider, went out without a bang.

He pulled himself together, gripped Zar'roc tightly, and faced the dragon head on. Then he heard a noise from behind him, and he whipped his head around. The red dragon was flying straight at him, the brown-haired man on his back, a look of cold determination on his face.

Eragon grimaced, then he took a breath. Right. Well, it's been a great 15 years of life… I tried to save Alagaesia, but I guess… it's just not meant to be. He concentrated hard, focusing all his energy on one word.

"Brisingr!"

The world exploded, and he saw black.

The next thing he knew, he was being shaken awake hard. Eragon, wake up. Eragon, please, wake up.

Eragon squinted, and then he opened his eyes. He was blinded by white light, and had to wait for his eyes to refocus. When he could see, he found himself staring at a never-ending patch of blue. Maudiso?

A soft thing slapped him in the face, and he blinked hard. Not Maudiso, you idiot. You're alive, thankfully. A voice in his head. Was he mad?

Confused now, Eragon sat up- and found himself blinded by whiteness yet again. But this time, it was the whiteness of pain. He yelped and fell back, closing his eyes as he did so. Oww. Saphira?

Yes. Who else? A familiar snort and the soft thing slapped his gently again. Eragon realized that it had been Saphira's wing. He breathed in deeply through his nose, and gagged. The acrid smell of smoke had filled the air, and he could barely breathe. Why am I not dead?

He opened his eyes again and realized that the huge patch of blue was Saphira, shielding him from as much smoke as she could. Do you want to be dead? She snapped.

No, but… I expected to be. Where's the Shade, and Scorpius, and that other Rider? What happened?

Saphira hesitated, then said, The moment you uttered the word Brisingr, I smashed in through the wall. You had used too much strength, almost all of it, and the whole room was on fire. I don't know how you did it, but you did. The Shade got completely covered in flames, and sort of… melted away. He turned into spirits, which whirled around the room, putting out most of the flames, then they all disappeared. I can't be certain, but I think I heard a spirit say 'thank you'. The two Riders seemed half-dazed and unsure of what to do. Then the brown-haired one ran over to you and picked up Zar'roc. He said, "I will have what is rightfully mine." Then he raised the sword, and prepared to kill you, because he knew I was too far to stop you, so he was safe. But before he could strike, the stopped and looked up. Scorpius did the same. Then he sheathed his sword, and cursed aloud. They both grabbed their dragons and… disappeared…

Eragon stared at her eye blankly, then he said, Come again?

Saphira rolled her eyes, and said, I'll tell you later, when you're more alert.

Right. And what happened to the elf, and why are we still here?

Saphira nodded towards Eragon's right-hand side, and so Eragon turned his head. He started when he found himself staring straight into Arya's face. I couldn't carry the two of you away when both of you were unconscious, so I just put you two together and shielded you from the smoke as best as possible. I didn't go and check, but I think you've made the entire prison collapse, Eragon.

Eragon turned his head again and gasped. Impossible. I'm not that strong.

You are, but that's not why the whole prison exploded. You were in an underground cavern, most likely directly underneath the prison. I had a hell of a time trying to track your presence. I killed a lot of soldiers. Saphira shrugged her massive shoulders, then she went on, I came down here, and I saw a wall. I didn't see a door, so I just smashed right through the wall. It was surprisingly easy. Then the flames… They went right through the ceiling. It was amazing, because it only harmed the Shade, then it went up. Plus, the flames were blue, as usual. I think the flames were kind of like, your will or something.

Eragon nodded slowly, letting all the information sink in. Then he sat up, much slower this time.

The world around him was in ruins. Whatever flames were left burned steadily, not dying down nor getting worse. They just gave off the acrid smoke that was burning his throat. The walls were crumbled, and there were stones scattered all around the room. The ceiling suddenly seemed a lot lower, and a lot of the torches had fallen and been extinguished.

Let's get out of here. I have a weird feeling about this place. Eragon said grimly.

Saphira flapped her wings to get some of the smoke away. Visibility improved… slightly. Eragon, can you get rid of this?? If the fire's still blue, it should be coming from you, right? Saphira sounded annoyed.

Eragon blinked, then stopped the magic. He hadn't even realized that he was the one providing the energy for the flames. The fire immediately died out, but the side effect was that it became a lot darker. "Kveykva," Eragon muttered.

A red flame burst into existence, casting a red tinge over everything. Eragon frowned slightly at the red ball of fire, and focused on it. With a soft 'pop', it turned icy blue. Eragon smiled in satisfaction. Saphira snorted but made no comment.

Eragon, under the icy blue tinge, turned to pick Arya up. She was surprisingly light, even though she was taller than him. She was like a ship that had been emptied of its cargo, an empty vessel. Eragon wondered whether all elves were lighter than they appeared or whether Arya was this way because of the torture. Saphira bent down and Eragon carefully placed her in the saddle before strapping her securely against Saphira's neck.

Eragon, hurry, Saphira said tersely, I have a bad feeling about this place. I feel as though the ceiling is going to fall down on us.

Eragon wasted no time in replying, because he felt the exact same way. Instead, he just leapt up onto Saphira back nimbly, and then Saphira opened her wing and flew towards the hole in the wall, closing her wings at the last minute so that she would be able to get into rather narrow stairway. (Narrow for a dragon, that is. It was actually very very wide for a human.)

The moment they entered the stairwell, the ceiling did cave in. Saphira quickly squeezed forward, breaking off pieces of the wall as she did so. The sound of stones cracking and the smell of dust filled the air, even though they were quite far from the room now.

Soon, they were out in the open. As in, completely in the open. There was no prison anymore. Instead, there was a huge pile of rubble around them. Some piles rose even higher than Saphira. The whole prison appeared to have collapsed inward, crushing everyone left inside. The only thing that was intact was the spiked gate.

A few guards limped around, looking for survivors, but they looked completely dazed. They didn't even notice Saphira, big as she was, coming out from the ground, because there was a huge cloud of smoke around them. And the moment they were out, Saphira slithered over to a large pile of rocks that blocked them from view. She hunched over and made herself as small as possible. Eragon squinted and could see a crowd gathering around what were once the walls of the prison. They didn't appear to want to help, but instead wanted to watch.

A young boy suddenly broke away from the crowd and attached himself to the gate. "Where is my father?" he screamed hysterically, "Where is he?!" He shook the gates as hard as he could, but they gates barely moved.

The guards did not even make an attempt to make an attempt to stop him. They just stopped what they were doing and stared at him blankly. The young boy looked completely enraged and seemed to be trying to climb the gate. When he failed, he screamed again, "Where is my father?? Today is the day he is supposed to be released, where is he?"

One guard simply raised his hand and pointed at the rubble. Several body parts could be seen grotesquely sticking out from under the piles of rubble. The boy stared and then he slowly fell to the ground, sobbing as he did so. "No! Father!" he wrapped his arms around his knees, rocking back and forth on the ground.

Several others in the crowd broke down as well. Their sobs could clearly be heard, their wailings and lamentations loud and heart-breaking.

Eragon felt guilty, but not sorry. It was his fault that all their family members and friends were dead, but if they had not done anything wrong, they would not have been put into the prison. He didn't have the time or the energy to feel sorry for others.

He reached around Arya and gripped the reins tightly. Let's go, he said flatly.

Saphira made no comment, but opened her wings and took flight among the sounds of the wailing and sobbing.

A/N

I sincerely apologize for making you guys wait soo long. I have no excuse except RL. It's been hectic, and I've got quite a loadstone of shit going on. I'll make advances on the next chapter ASAP, but I hope you can be as patient with me as you have been with me for this chapter.

Oh yeah, and Scorpius so totally makes a comeback. Haha. Bet nobody expected THAT. But he was just too awesome a character to waste. Plus, did anyone notice that he resembles DRACO MALFOY? (Blond, grey eyes, tall, genius). =) Totally pointless, but fun.

As usual, please review.

Reviews are better than saving Arya from the Shade.