AN: Hello again, first off: Disclaimer I own nothing as all source material and inspiration belongs to Christopher Paolini.
Well it is good to be back. It has taken me a long time to write and edit this chapter so sorry for that. Still not sure if it completely correct, but I want to get this out. Several updates and announcement. First of: The next two chapters will be come out here soon. This chapter will be a little different. I am going to sometimes put in "mini" chapter that are really short, but are need to help with the story, much like Chapter 1 and Chapter 6. The regular chapters will keep their normal length. The reason for this is I want to change perspective for a moment, but I don't want it to b e part of another chapter so I'm using what FF has to offer and just make it another chapter. Second: I am still looking for some help with Saphira funeral, help would be greatly appreciated, may even leak a spoiler or two for those who help…
As promised this is a slow chapter, but is very interesting. WARNING, I am not the best conversation writer and this chapter is nothing but that, so sorry if it's a little choppy in some parts. Lastly thank you to all my new followers and fan your support is much appreciated.
I think that is all so enjoy, review, and spread the word!
Darkness's Return
The darkness around them was consuming. There, only nothingness and a figure stood. The figure was a tall one, his limbs long and lanky, his brow fresh with sweat. This figure was a being of great power, his soldiers and followers knew that, he knew that. But today something frighten him. Something he had fear since taking power. The figure had heard and watched as the war against the tyrant king was wagged, his race was not to be involved, but they had been many a times. They had no choice, his kind had been slaved to the riders, and then when they were freed during the downfall, they were bound even closer to a new master. So close that some of them became the puppet of the dark king, as an example of the king's power.
Now his race had heard that the king was finally dead, and they all knew it to be true. The bonds that had restricted them finally fell loss, for it had not been since the time of the Grey Folk that they had such freedom. But now the figure worried, he worried of what would happen to him, he knew he had done wrong. He had sent some of his men out the past day to confirm the kings death, and to see the state of those warrior who defeat the one who had controlled his kind, for they would be the only threat left on this world, fearing for his life.
The figure turned as another two figures entered the cavern room. Both wore dark armor, common of their kind, as well as long dark cloaks that, to anyone else, would display the dark nature of their kind. But to another one of their own kind, one much more powerful, they looked normal another common solider. The lead figure moved forward beginning to speak, "We have returned." The one said, stating the most obvious of facts, "We return with the knowledge you had us seek out as well as more…" The one smiled, he grinned turned into laughs which echoed throughout the cavern.
The lead figure was tired of this beating around he needed answers now, if all was true he need to prepare for the inevitable. "What is it then!" he barked, his patience thinning by the minute. The other figure began to speak, his tone was filled with triumphant malice, "He is dead! Finally dead. He's killer convene as we speak, preparing to bring for a new age of peace." The other laughed.
Suddenly several other figures filled into the room as the doors to the cavern opened wide, the light from the outside swarming in. These figures were all soldiers, each carrying their own weapons and armor, all bore black cloaks and all had their weapons drawn. They formed two columns creating a walk way for the last figure to walk down. This figure was much different than the others. He bore a pure black cloak and armor, a sword on his back and a dark mask cover the lower half of his face as a hood covered the rest .The figure bore black hair with strips of red running through it. His eyes were that of pitch red, his arms cover by grieves as well as his legs. Every step he took seemed to shake the cave walls, power emitting from his every movement. He walked slowly down the columns of his soldiers, never looking there way, as he stared directly at the one in front of him. The first figure stared back, the soldiers around him stood silently and motionless, their weapons all ready at the smallest hit of rebellion.
"My...My Lord…" the first figure stuttered, "I... I thought you were dead. We all thought you were dead." The master final stopped, standing directly in front of his others. Pulling both his hood and mask off the other figure gasped. A dark scare ran down the side of his lords' face, running down below his collar from his left ear. The master grabbed his subject smashing him into the cave wall; all around remained, watching as judgment took place. The master looked around tightening his grip. Parting his lips he spoke, his voice ridged for he had not spoken for some time, still he held everyone's attention.
"I am dead!" He said, the words came out as hisses, "we are all dead here, but now we are free. We are all free." The soldiers around him cheered raising their arms into the carven air. The master looked around again until turning his attention back to his subject. "You have taken something from me. My name, my place, my men. I know of what you told them that was killed, killed by a lower life form than any of us. That even if I could survive, that I was not worth to lead us anymore. That I was weak. That I was insufficient. That I was nothing." Tightening his grip the master through down the subject, a yelp of pain escaping the figures lips, still the master continued. "You have lied and stolen the right to lead, my right. I have lead our kind for thousands of years, I am the only one left of our kind, the only of pure blood. You have no right to lead!" the figure rose drawing his sword as he swung at the master, none of the soldiers even moved, they all knew what was going to happen. The master simple reached out with his hand and caught the blade, power pour out of his palm as the blade melted away into nothingness.
"You may indeed be old, a couple thousand years, but I am I eternal. Nothing you can even do will stop me." The figure back up turn to the soldiers speaking to them, "So you will let this weakling lead us. Will you! He was bested by a boy! A no good boy! Is this what we want in our lord and master? I would…" the master caught the figure by this throat hoisting him up into the air. Taking his right hand he formed it into a spear, putting his fingers together, and plunged his hand into the figures chest, through armor and all. Grasping the figures heart the master squeezed. The figure coughed blood out his throat.
"I was killed. But by no boy." Still holding the figure the master turned to his soldiers. "This so called "boy" was able to defeat the very man who was able to bind my will to his own. The most powerful of all the riders, the one who we thought would free us from the oppression of the riders and there predecessors. But no! He bound us even more, binding my own will to him. So yes this boy bested me, he bested me when I was restricted and powerless due to the king. And even so, he killed the king; he killed our most dangerous enemy since the Riders. So this so called boy is even more powerful than the king, riders, or fallen brothers. What does that say to all of you? To me it says we are not truly free, we may have our strength back, but we are far from free. We have power, power we have not had for thousands of years. And now even with our greatest threat we will destroy all who are against us. For they will cower in fear compared to the might of our power! He may be more powerful than our army, but he is not more powerful than me! So will you follow this coward, who would not even face this "boy" as he calls him, or will you follow the one who will destroy everyone and everything? The one who can bring destruction to all."
No solider was silent, as the all erupted in roars of agreeance. "Then let us do so! Send me our two of our warriors general, who are ready to stretch their long restricted wings. Tell them to find the leaders of the Varden and wipe them off the existence of this world. And general if that elf is with them, bring me her head!" The master looked over to one of the lead soldier who nodded in return, moving the rest of the men out.
Turning back to the figure, the masters tightened his grip. Still coughing up blood the figure spoke, "Even if you can win, I will never allow you to take control. You can't kill me, I am like you. We are immortal. Everlasting. Eternal." The master glared violently at the figure.
"I told you this a long time ago!" the master twisted his whole arm, ripping the figures heart out of it chest. The figure fell limb to the ground, sprits soon enveloped the room, as the figures body burned away into ash. "There is no such thing as an immortal being."
The master turned back, holding the figures heart in his hand, crushing it, walking out of the cavern into the light of the day. Around him what was left of his kind rushed around, preparing for their long awaited return to the world of Alagaesia. To the day they would claim their place atop the world. Darkness will fall and all those will be consumed by its vastness. Looking to the east the master scowled. There in Urû'baen he had been enslaved to a king who thought he could control him, control his power. And he did, he had found the way to control not just his kind but himself, and bind there race to his own will. But now he was gone, those who killed him had save their world from the darkness of one man now to be cover by an even thicker darkness. Even now it closes in on them. The agents of my his race would destroy the leaders of these lands, even if the boy opposed him, it would do little. The master had been gone for some time and it had been hundreds of lifetimes since the power he once had was in his control, but now nothing would stop his rise. His rise to power. No one, not even this boy would stop him. Alagaesia would be theirs!
The master stepped out into the mass of his troops, still looking to the east. He scowled his smile as laughter left from his throat, growing to a hysteric amount.
"I am coming my boy!"
