Arya stood on the edge of the battlefield, in front of the Varden's army, and with the elven spell casters flanking her. Judging by the number of soldiers approaching, this battle was destined to be a lengthy one; it seemed that it would not fall short of the build up that Nausada had given the elf. The air surrounding them was so tense that it could have been cut with a blunt knife. The elf could feel tremors in the ground from the sheer number of people walking in time and this was intimidating several of the younger men. Roran was in command of a section of the army, a decision that Arya agreed with. She had been in many battles, and she had learnt to recognise the type of people suited to leading – Nasuada had been wise to choose him.
Everyone on the crest of the hill was silent, waiting for the command to attack. There was a moment of trepidation as King Orrin whispered to Nasuada, and then all insignificant things were blown out of their minds as Saphira roared, a flame tinged with blue escaping her maw. Arya sneaked a quick look at Eragon, brandishing his sword, Brisingr, which was also flaming. His eagerness to defeat Galbatorix and restore order to the land of Alagaësia had returned, even if he was more mature and wary in his approach to it now. She could still sense that there was a small part of Eragon that was scared of what was to come, and silently she vowed to herself to be by his side to the very end, and help him achieve his wyrda in any way she could.
She cleared all thoughts of the Rider from her mind, and focussed her energies on the battle ahead instead. She ran nimbly down the slope, ahead of all but Eragon and Saphira. The partners-of-life cleared a section of the enemy from the fight, either by scorching them to a crisp or by slicing at them. Arya quickly found herself engaged on many levels, as her wards blocked the arrows loosed at her, she was contributing energy to the spell casters of Ellesmera, and she danced with the men around her, swiping with her blade when they dared to attack her. They were strong opponents, and were to be commended on their determination, but they lacked the skill and agility of elves, and so they paid with their lives. So many lives were being lost on that field and the sheer amount of the death was paining the elf and her comrades. However, that was the price of war and, in this case, freedom.
A few hours into the battle, there were no signs of the enemy relenting. Soldiers of the Empire were still arriving, so the Varden were still fighting and defending the future of Alagaësia. Both sides were sustaining heavy casualties, but the toll was not as high as it would be, if Murtagh and Thorn were there. Arya was thankful for that small blessing, as it allowed the elven spell casters and herself to participate fully in the main fighting, and they could find the majority of the magicians working for the King and crush their minds. It also meant that Eragon was able to support the Varden fully and alleviate a great deal of pressure from the foot soldiers.
Arya parried a blow from the young man in front of her and twisted round, first to skewer the man behind her, and then to decapitate the one in front of her. With her in-human speed, this was an easy feat, and neither man was aware of anything happening until they were on the floor. The elf paused for a brief moment, catching her breath and draining the dying men of their last reserves of energy, before she leapt forward to defend a human soldier from the onslaught of six of Galbatorix's men. She disposed of one of them very quickly by sliding her sword between his ribs, but she then found herself surrounded. On a low-level scan of their minds, it seemed these humans thought she was an appropriate prize for their efforts.
'Barzul' she cursed loudly, hacking at one human's arm, and then at another's chest. As she span, slicing the bodies in front of her, she reached for her magic, determined to make these people pay for their stupidity at attacking an elf. As she was forming the words in her mouth, there was a dull thunk as the pommel of a sword collided with the side of her head. The magic slipped from her grasp, and the elf sunk to her knees. She could still hear the clamouring of the battle around her as her vision faded. Her last thoughts were of how she had failed – the elven ambassador, beaten by human soldiers. These were soon replaced by darkness, as she felt someone lifting her from the ground.
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I know I cut the battle short, I'm sorry… I hope it wasn't too rushed or anything. Hey, you can let me know by reviewing =p
If you don't let me know what you think, then I can't alter it when I edit it all.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter =D
Woody2792x