Eragon stood under the orange sky before the castle. Its walls of gray blocks stood with countless pointed towers with barriers on top, its wide, square gate of steel sitting inviting yet intimidating to Eragon. Far behind it against the mountains was the square castle keep, its pointed, numerous towers piercing the air. Katrina and her archers stepped forward. Eragon's eyes were upon the parapets in the walls, searching for enemy soldiers. The dark, rounded helmets of Galbatorix' elite gaurd, with sharp nasal coverings, became visible from behind the square stone barriers on the walls.

The sound of a great trumpet shook Eragon's ears as he and the other Varden learned they had been spotted. It had begun. The twang of bows united as if from one great bow, and arrows hissed across the air, producing a sound painful to the ear and frightful to the mind. The great roar of deadly ballistas deafened Eragon's ears as he climbed atop Saphira's saddle, in the heart-racing rush of climbing the huge dragon he still had difficulty with this otherwise simple task. Saphira raised him into the air, her breath tormenting the elite gaurds as she tossed her head from side to side to reach them all. Anguished shouts filled the air along with the smell of burning bodies. Eragon nearly lost his grip on Saphira's saddle as saphira lunged to the right, barely dodging a sharp missile hurled from a ballista on one of the high towers. Eragon gripped the saddle painfully as Saphira spun in mid-air, dodging missiles sent from angles designed to make dodging them difficult for her and Eragon. With a harsh growl Saphira lunged toward a tower to her left. To her right, there was a tower with several spears pointing from a strange rack. Before Eragon could see Saphira spew flames he heard a familiar disturbing sound of burning to the right. He turned and nearly let go of the saddle. His swift reflexes enabled him to utter a rushed spell to block the burning spears flying towards Saphira and himself, but the spell failed, and both Saphira and Eragon telepathically and physically felt the searing pain of fire and pointed metal in the gaps of their armor.

On the ground below, Varden shoulders swung their metal weapons in fury against the King's Own Elite Gaurd. Maces were swung from hands struck by swords, clunking heavily to the ground upon the feet of their wielders or their allies. The air was ocne again pierced aby a loud trumpet sound from behind the Varden. Everyone could hear a horse galloping and Katrina's voice crying "Fall back!" Fall Back!". Eragon was puzzled when he saw the Varden withdrawing after hearing the trumpet signal and looking behind him. Saphira swooped to Katrina across the distance from the castle while Eragon eagerly waited for a chance to safely dismount. Before he had even climbed from the saddle he asked Katrina what was going on. "I don't know how it's being done," Katrina replied, panting. "but the army at Galbatorix's castle is an illusion. Those who seemed wounded or slain are missing. Our intelligence indicateds the real army is to the Northeast. Varden, follow my lead!". Eragon remounted Saphira, deeply dreading the long march that awaited the Varden. The sun dragged westward over Eragon's head, making the entire army quiver and become nervous. When at long last. Once the mountains were in sight, Eragon was not glad enough to sigh in relief, his pain was too great, and Galbatorix's forces were not in sight.