Beta-reader: Dragonblooded

Eragon? Saphira's soft voice spoke inside his mind. He looked to her and saw a big blue eye watching him. I know you have been obsessed with the Winter Kingdom lately, but you need sleep. We will need all the help we can get when we fight Galbatorix.

The Rider clutched the book tightly in his fingers. The night was already underway, and he had been reading since sunset. I am not obsessed! I just wasn't able to enjoy proper reading on the march to Uru'baen. Eragon grumbled. His eyes were sore, but he couldn't put the book aside.

Besides, it is a really interesting book. Did you know that the Hadarac Desert has not always existed? Du Weldenvarden used to be much bigger than it is now. It covered the Hadarac Desert and even grew North of Alagaësia.

Saphira gave him a questioning look. She shook her head. I thought you were reading about the Winter Kingdom.

Eragon's eyes returned to the book in his hands. He very carefully turned to the next page. I am. Remember the twin queens? Their mother was basically a child when she was crowned a Queen. That was a peaceful time for all people. Everyone believed she had promise. She was strict, but not cruel; wise, but not stubborn.

Then the Broddring Kingdom spotted a weakness in the Winter kingdom and attacked. The Queen – Vellamo was her name – was so young, she had no power. They attacked from the north, where the kingdom was unprotected. The battle triggered Vellamo's power. They say seeing her people die was too much for her.

She gained a connection to the weather. The human army was hit with the strongest storm they had ever faced. Some were struck by lightning, others froze to death. She became known as the Storm Queen.

As was typical of her line, she slowly started to descend into madness, and she sought revenge on the humans. Her power had a limited range, and because she never wanted to leave her kingdom, she needed to grow stronger. She did so by draining energy from the southern side of Du Weldenvarden, until it died out and created an unbearable change to the forest in the middle of the kingdom, which people used for sustenance. She dried the forest down and thus created the place known as the Hadarac Desert. This caused a massive wave of famine.

Du Weldenvarden as we know it was spared only because her advisors begged her to. She died rather young, giving birth to the Mad and the Dead Queens. Eragon paused, obviously consumed by it all. He knew he should leave history to be history, as Oromis told him, but he couldn't help himself.

This book has everything! It says M'anie was born first and saw her mother's death. Everyone assumes that triggered her powers, because she had them ever since. The healers had to pull Tuoni from her mother's body and resuscitate her. That might have been what caused her powers.

There is an exact description of M'anie's coronation, too. With all this information, Saphira, maybe the kingdom could still be brought back.

There is a mention that M'anie's child – the Iron Queen – ruled, but the Dead Queen had a child, too. She was sent away just before the Dead Queen killed her sister and later herself. No one knows where their line ends.

Saphira yawned. How boring. She looked up. Someone has come to pay you a visit. Eragon frowned and closed his book.

There in the doorway stood Maud in her cat-like form, licking her paw. Saphira obviously wasn't the only one he had bored with his story. Eragon hadn't realized his dragon's mind was opened to the one of the werecat.

When Maud felt his eyes upon herself, she looked up to him. With a few long jumps she appeared next to him, putting her face way millimetres from his. Eragon kept silent, patiently waiting.

You are interested in the Winter Kingdom? she said. That which you need to know, you cannot find in the book. It is not there. With that, she turned and ran out of his tree-house. Eragon blinked, confused. He looked to Saphira, hoping she would have an answer.

She just shook her head. If I ever know, I will tell you. Long after she had fallen asleep, Eragon was still awake and reading.

+BREAK+

Few weeks passed by. Two armies stood opposed on an empty plain, empty of all other life. A white cloud hovered a bit away from the battlefield. Above both armies circled three dragons. One was as big as a mountain, majestic and powerful, with scales like melted gold. The second one was smaller, but much more elegant, with scales of the colour of the deepest oceans and the brightest sapphires. The last dragon flew a bit further from the other two, clearly not belonging with them. He looked terrifying with his bloody scales.

The battle for Gil'ead was underway.

Eragon looked sceptically at Murtagh. He had never wanted to fight his half-brother. He always hoped he could persuade him to join their forces, to help him free himself from King's influence. But if it was inevitable, he would kill him.

The Varden was still rather far away from Feinster, so Eragon joined Oromis in his thoughts. Galbatorix wouldn't send Murtagh to the Varden if there were two dragon riders on the other side of Alagaësia.

Beneath him, the armies were spilling blood. He saw the Urgals move amongst the elves. For the first time, he saw Marzanna's unit fight. Eragon remembered how roughly the Urgals had fought at the battle at Farthen Dûr, always relying on their strength. This unit, though, fought with more grace than he expected from the Urgal race.

Are you prepared, my dear? he asked Saphira , petting her scales.

She growled with satisfaction, her mind already filled with bloodlust. I am, little one. We will crush that red midget.

The dragons circled each other closer and closer, until they were within earshot. It was obvious that the dragons wanted to attack, but the Riders were reluctant. Oromis knew his weakness, Eragon knew this his half-brother and friend, and Murtagh wasn't allowed to kill Eragon, who was now in the company of another Rider.

Eragon saw the betrayal on Murtagh's face from Oromis and Glaedr. "Where have you been? You could have saved us!" Murtagh shouted angrily at them. Then his face twisted into a strange smirk. "But I suppose it doesn't matter anymore."

"Murtagh, I made this offer before back south. We can help you change your real name," Eragon reasoned. "You don't have to follow him."

The Red Rider laughed bitterly. "You make it seem as if we have a choice. It was always you who had the chance to choose. My choices were forced on me. Why should it be different now? Besides, who would accept us? I am about to kill so many elves. I killed Hrothgar and the Varden's only dragon fighter. I murdered your half-elfling. They would imprison us, kill us. And I am not done with life just yet."

Eragon felt his heart skip a beat. He looked at Oromis and noticed his master wasn't completely present, using his mind to help fight the Imperial Army. Eragon hoped Murtagh wouldn't notice. "What? You killed Malvolia?"

"I did. And you should thank me. She was a stupid imposter. Her abduction was wasted effort." His half-brother obviously enjoyed the power his knowledge gave him. Eragon did not comment on how much Murtagh had changed since Farthen Dûr.

"What are you talking about?"

"I am not even sure if I should call her half-elfling." Murtagh continued as if he hadn't heard Eragon, basking in the moment. "Her blood had been so powerful, until it was diluted by human blood. Have you heard of the Winter Kingdom? You haven't."

"I have. You talk as if you weren't a human anymore." Eragon frowned. Everything now seems to revolve around that Kingdom, he told Saphira.

Murtagh smirked at him. "I suppose the prospect of immortality makes it hard to stay human. Not that you know anything of humanity any more. If you know so much about the Winter Kingdom, then, did you know the Dead Queen had a child? Her line disappeared some time ago, they say. Your beloved Malvolia was from that line.

The King thought she managed to penetrate my shields because of that line's strange powers. But she had so little of them left. She was a weak spellcaster. So we thought it surely was the sword. Then again, there was nothing extraordinary about it. Just a plain sword of expensive metals. Not even magical. Thorn said it was a white Rider's sword." At that, Thorn growled dangerously and snapped his jaws at Saphira, who had gotten too close to him.

"You know," Murtagh said. "There are only two white Riders' swords. Unless your blacksmith has made new ones, which I doubt, because I don't see any white dragons here, do you? One – Vrael's – is secured at King's waist. But the other?"

"How would you know this? I read a detailed book about the Winter Kingdom. There was nothing about this lost line in it, and they mentioned everything there..." Eragon suddenly paused. Murtagh gave him a curious look.

That which you need to know, you cannot find in the book. It is not there.

He saw the loose ends in his mind, but couldn't connect them. Then Saphira asked, Eragon? In the Ancient language, Elder's and Elders' is the same word.

A knot tied itself on Eragon's stomach.

As armies disappear in the shadow of Elder's wings; Another monarch pain and sorrow to insanity brings; Thus begins the dark reign of Thirteen; From the land of no kings.

The prophecy required only an Elder dragon. Eragon looked to Glaedr. Then to Oromis, who was fully present, with a terrified expression. "The other stayed in the possession of the family of Eragon I. Left to his daughter – Lilith. In Norvedrgarde."

As the fair folks face the dragon thief. Eragon looked to the elves fighting beneath him.

Murtagh suddenly looked uneasy. He was at a disadvantage. It was obvious Oromis and Eragon were figuring something out. Then, a chant from the Imperial Army reached their ears. A smug expression returned to Murtagh's face. "Well, Galbatorix has wanted to try this spell out for ages. You know, he truly hates the Urgals."

Eragon shouted in vain. Then, the battlefield was filled with the sound of explosions. Thousands of small explosions ripped through one part of the elven army. Any sounds of the battle were overpowered by the screams of the unfortunate. Oromis and Eragon watched with heavy hearts as a wave of energy tore through all the Urgals, tearing their heads apart, cracking them open as if they were nothing but empty egg shells.

Everything the thirteen knows will leave.

"What have you done?!" Eragon shouted, shooting a quick glance to Oromis. "The prophecy is about to take place!" None of the Riders noticed the rime growing on their armours. None of them noticed as the temperature suddenly plummeted.

"What are you talking about?" Murtagh said, "The prophecy is expired. The Ghost Queen was the Thirteenth, and she died."

"She was the Twelfth. The Dead Queen was never a queen! She was never coronated!"

One scream dominated all the others, filled with despair and pain. Eragon quickly found the source of it, but he already knew whose it was. Marzanna threw away her helmet and clutched her head with trembling hands.

And then it hit Eragon. "Marzanna, DON'T!" Before Saphira could move, it felt as if the energy around the she-elf started to collapse, imploding with her in the centre. Then, with a great dash, it lashed out against the King's army.

The first wave of power drained the soldiers of their warmth, changing them into solid icy stones. The second wave shattered them into shards. Even though Eragon was locked inside his own mind, he could all the lives ended in a single second.

Snow started to fall heavily. Suddenly, the snowflakes began to connect, creating something like blades. Those who were lucky enough to have escaped her before now faced ice blades shot at them with such a force, it penetrated even armour without shattering. Some elves were caught in the fire. No spells were able to protect them. They all shattered, just like the first soldiers. Eragon watched as Marzanna's grey sword started to crack. Small leaves of steel fell away, revealing a white sword.

That is how an entire battle was ended by a single person. Marzanna fell to her knees on a duvet of snow, breathing heavily. A white cloud hovering above her head. Eragon and Oromis moved toward her, but they found themselves stopped by a spell, barely able to keep themselves up in the air. Thorn and Murtagh flew around them. His half-brother wielded Zar'roc.

Marzanna looked up to him, still on her knees. She raised her arm, aiming in front of herself. The air there suddenly sparkled. Water vapor began to condensate and freeze there, creating an ice cone with many sharp thorns protruding from the tip and upper sides. Murtagh did not seem concerned by it.

"You have no right to a Rider's sword!" Murtagh shouted at her.

With fury in her expression, Marzanna stood up, holding her sword tightly. "I do," she answered with a terrifying calm.

As Thorn flew over the ice cone, a huge flash of white descended from the cloud, crashing into him. The massive momentum forced the red dragon onto the sharp ice, penetrating even his thick scales, suffusing the ice with scalding blood. But none of it melted away.

A huge white dragon held Thorn inside his claws, shaking him. The red dragon screeched loudly, but no matter what he did, he could not rid himself of the white dragon. Murtagh fell off his dragon, but managed to slow himself down so the ground did not hurt him.

Murtagh barely had time to recover before Marzanna attacked. The swords collided with a metallic groan. Transparent walls grew out of nowhere around them, separating them from the elves.

"You hurt my dragon! You will die for that!" Murtagh shouted and swung at her head. Marzanna easily avoided it and stomped on his foot.

"You killed my people! You took everything from me! Now, it is my turn."

Murtagh immediately jerked his foot away from her, stumbling slightly on the growing ice below. Marzanna kicked his stomach, sending him to the ground. Seconds later, a white sword pierced Murtagh's shoulder, pinning him to the ground. The Red Rider screamed in pain.

Marzanna pressed her foot into his wrist with all her power until he released his sword. She easily picked it up and without hesitation thrust it through Murtagh's other shoulder. His pain and Thorn's in his mind sent him into blackness.

The white dragon opened his jaws and pushed off the red dragon. Instead of fire, an icy stream left his mouth and covered Thorn, freezing him alive under a thick frost. Marzanna pulled both swords from Murtagh and mounted the white dragon when he landed next to her. He picked Murtagh from the ground without care and took off, soon disappearing into a huge white cloud of his icy breath.

+BREAK+

After the battle Eragon found himself in Tialdarí Hall in Ellesméra with Oromis, Islanzadí, and the elfish representatives. Thorn was left with Glaedr at the Crags of Tel'naeír. The best elven healers had treated him, but he still had not woken. The ice stopped him from succumbing to his wounds, but they remained serious.

"The prophecy never expired?" Islanzadí breathed out. All her strength seemed to leave her.

Oromis shook his head. "I am afraid not. The Dead Queen was never crowned. She wore a copy of her sister's crown. It was assumed she co-ruled with her sister."

The Elven Queen nodded. "We must find the other Riders, soon."

Eragon spoke up. "I know them both better than you do. It should be me who finds them."

Islanzadí nodded. "Go. Galbatorix is vulnerable without them, but don't let down your guard."

The Blue Rider left Tialdarí Hall, leaving footprints behind him in the snow.