When I finally awaken, the Varden are still on the move, though Sorin has no trouble keeping ahead of the army, checking for danger and keeping me safe. There isn't much to do in the days of traveling, especially for me, just sitting on Sorin and lazing about. So I do a lot of meditation, trying to formulate as many ways to circumvent wards as possible, creating new spells and improvisational magic.
And so, day after day, we travel north, straight to the city of Dras-Leona. And seeing the peaks known as Helgrind is an interesting and terrible experience. The trees sing of sacrifices and evil things that walked the land. The Ra'zac and the Lethrblaka.
The city seems so dark and cold, even from a distance. I watch the city for hours, trying to find the best possible way to attack it. And when the time finally comes for a diplomatic approach, an unexpected opponent joins to fight for Dras-Leona. Murtagh and his red dragon Thorn. He challenges us to throw ourselves against the walls and try to take the city, confident that no one will be able to take it.
And soon, a messenger comes from the elves, carrying a gift for me. The gift is a full set of silver scale armor, as well as a new set of leather armor. I strap on the first layer of leather armor, then the scale armor. With my energy replenished and new armor, I feel very prepared for battle, even if that means fighting Murtagh.
I watch as Eragon practices his swordplay with Arya. But her ability to beat him over and over frustrates him. I feel inclined to offer to practice with him, which would frustrate him less, but also leave him to teaching me what he knows rather than improving his own hand.
Suddenly, Glaedr speaks, with a melancholy and sorrowful voice. And soon, everyone swarms him with questions, except for me, because if I am to speak with him, I want it to be private. And after much arguing and coaxing from the elves, and a very challenging insult from Blodhgarm to force Glaedr out of his shell of misery, though it is certainly not a safe approach, he emerges in full.
Saphira calms Glaedr using flattery and gentle admiration, which is a very good way of dealing with an angry dragon. Because angry or not, all dragons love to be flattered. And despite his rather second-hand knowledge of the subject, Glaedr agrees to help train Eragon in the sword. And so, for hours upon hours, and countless bouts between Eragon and Arya. Eragon learns what Glaedr meant when he said to look at what you are seeing.
When the bouts finally end, Nasuada calls for us to meet at Eragon's tent. When she addresses the topic at hand, she has figured out that the presence she sensed was indeed Glaedr. And he even deigns to speak with her. After a lengthy discussion about strategy and the situation at Dras-Leona, Glaedr promises to think on it and see what can be done to improve the situation.
When Nasuada leaves, Glaedr decides to start training Eragon's mind, by having him engage in mental battles with Arya, occasionally having Saphira take a side. Finally, Glaedr has me take on Eragon, with no help from either of our dragons. Eragon seems a little taken aback, but does as Glaedr says and tries to besiege my mind.
Glaedr could not have picked a worse partner for Eragon to try to defeat in a mental battle. I may have had little training for my body, but Oromis had thoroughly trained my mind. The training was so arduous that by the end, I could hold my own with my grandfather. As such, Eragon can find no point of entry, and as it frustrates him, I quickly plunge into his mind, sweeping aside memories and going straight for the part of his mind that will allow me to immobilize him.
I smirk at Eragon. "Oromis trained me himself, for hours upon hours. My mind is so well defended that I can even put layers of defenses in my mind. Layers that allow people to peer into certain memories, but keep others hidden, like a city with rings. The less important buildings are kept by the outer walls, whereas the most important buildings are at the center, with several walls between them and the outside of the city."
Eragon grunts in frustration. "I see what you mean, so could you please let me go, it's getting hard to breathe." And so I release him.
Child, I would speak with you later, if you are willing.
Yes. I have been anticipating this very much.
I leave the tent, but sometime later, I feel the trickling of Glaedr's thoughts, making their way towards me. So child. I realize that in my state of misery, I had forgotten that I was not the only one who had lost Oromis. And while he and I were bonded for centuries, he was almost your entire world, as well as your only home. I am sorry for neglecting you, Oromis would never have wanted you to experience such loneliness.
I still have Sorin. I feel sadness welling up inside of me. But he is all that I have now. My family has been exterminated by Galbatorix's own hand, and I am the only one left.
And I have lost my entire race.
I feel bitter and resentful at that comment. But you could live happily among the elves for centuries to come, even just as a consciousness in a piece of crystal. I can't stay there. I have no place there without Oromis. Without my family, I have no place anywhere except in the sky, flying wherever the wind takes me and Sorin. That is the only future that awaits me, since without an abundance of dragon eggs, we cannot restore the Riders. And Eragon will probably go to his home in Carvahall. That leaves me. With nothing to do and nowhere to go.
I cut the connection and keep walls around my mind until he finally relents and stops trying to touch my mind. And I ignore him for several days, opting to train by myself, as well as to visit the infirmary daily to heal wounded soldiers.
Jeod, a historian who was a friend of Brom's finds the lynchpin, the key to taking Dras-Leona. And he happily shouts his success to Eragon, where I can clearly hear him. Eragon calls me over and we go to see Nasuada. Jeod explains the existence of a tunnel under Dras-Leona, a drainage system of sorts. And he tells us that not only was it constructed, but he can find it for us.
With a plan being devised, I dislike the idea of being separated from Eragon. But it is soon decided that he, along with Arya, Angela and Wyrden, will be the ones to go underneath Dras-Leona. As for me, I decide to be bold at the meeting, but wait for the right time.
Nasuada finally raises and objection. "But what about Murtagh and Thorn? We can't leave them to devastate our army as they please while the four of you go underground."
Before Eragon can speak, I cut him off. "I will deal with Murtagh. Now that I know exactly what he has on his side, I know that Sorin and I can crush him. In a battle of spell-casters, he is hardly my equal. The injury he caused me last was because we were fighting in his style, in which I had very little training. But if this is to be a battle of magic, then my knowledge, training and discipline will far outstrip his abilities."
Nasuada nods, happy to see my determination. "And I know that you have trained hard to learn many of the arts of war. I can see no one who could better take on Murtagh, especially since you have no prior emotional connection to him."
I nod. "I do not blame him for the death of my grandfather, as it was Galbatorix who swung his arm, and as for my injury, it was my own fault for overestimating myself. Now, I am well prepared for the fight that will ensue."
As am I. Sorin's voice booms from outside the tent. You can be sure that Murtagh and Thorn will not get the better of us. Especially now that there is nothing left to lose. Those that have nothing to lose make the most dangerous enemies, because they no longer allow emotions to cloud their judgment.
And so, with everyone clear on the plan, Sorin and I take turns sleeping, restoring our energy periodically, and waiting for the battle to begin. The wait is long and arduous, and my patience starts to wear thin with the same boredom as the rest of the warriors.
When Eragon finally gives the signal, Sorin rears and roars so loudly that the entire city shakes. Saphira takes off into the air, with Blodhgarm riding her, cloaked in magic that made him appear to be Eragon. Sorin also takes off into the air, with me on his back and in nearly full armor, though I forego a helmet for the sake of being able to react faster to my surroundings.
Bells ring as Saphira and Sorin bear down on the city I take out my bow and keep an arrow nocked. I watch as Thorn and Saphira collide, grappling and ripping at each other. I watch for a moment, but it is clear to me that without the teamwork that Saphira and Eragon have together, Blodhgarm cannot effectively fight alongside Saphira.
Saphira, go help the Varden, Sorin and I will take on Murtagh and Thorn. And when she finally pulls away, Thorn chases her. I put away my bow and strap myself in for a very wild ride. Sorin tackles Thorn, who is about the size of Saphira, perhaps a little bigger, but still significantly smaller than Sorin. We spin through the air and Sorin keeps us all from crashing into buildings.
I attack Murtagh with my mind, pushing through the Eldunari that try to block my way. The Eldunari must come from small dragons, because they are not trained as sharply as Sorin. I plough against Murtagh's mind and he fights back. He is obviously more trained than the dragons, but with Sorin engaging Thorn, who is still only a hatchling, and the young Eldunari, I can feel Murtagh weakening some under my assault.
I hope that you realize what you have done by obeying Galbatorix. I will see that traitor fall. And I have the right to be the one to drive a blade into his heart. If you insist on standing in my way, then Eragon's brother or not, I will kill you as well.
His mind is a focused thought, and I hear his voice, cold and a bit higher than I imagined, though still not of the same pitch as Eragon's. Go ahead and try elf woman. Thorn and I will tear you to pieces first.
Then why don't you come and try it? Now we are playing at my level, not yours. So come out of your comfort zone and have a duel with me, here in the air, on the backs of dragons. Let us see whose mind is stronger.
He renews his efforts, but I can tell that I've disturbed his thoughts. I drive at his mind with the force of a diving dragon. He does his best to keep me out, but with my intense mental attacks, he has no chance to launch a counterattack of his own, or to cast any spells without giving me access to his mind. Sorin uses this chance to bathe Murtagh and Thorn in an inferno, hurling them into a pit, where Murtagh's wards protect him from being crushed by Thorn, causing the dragon's back to arch painfully.
Sorin roars in triumph, and as Thorn tries to scramble out of the pit, he only brings down more rubble on top of himself. Sorin breathes a torrent of green and gold fire, trying to roast Murtagh and Thorn alive. I can still sense them down there, but with such an advantage now, I see no need to continue a mental assault. And for several minutes, Sorin keeps a powerful flame going into the pit, melting the stone edges and raining molten rock down on them as well.
Thorn roars in agony and bursts out of the pit, flying into the air with some difficulty. Sorin takes off from the stone wall and we give chase again. I shoot a few arrows at Thorn, but their wards deflect them. Good to know, protection wards are easy to use as a way of exhausting an opponent. Saphira flies off somewhere when she suddenly senses Eragon, though she flies directly in Sorin's path and forces him to stop in mid-air.
Seeing us stop, Thorn plunges down at us, so Sorin pulls a dangerous move. He flips upside down, shoots fire at Thorn, then flips right side up and glides out of the flight path of Thorn's dive. Murtagh and Thorn zoom past us, heading straight for Eragon in the main square of Dras-Leona.
Ciara! Sorin! Get out of the way, now!
As Eragon asks, we fly in a different direction, giving Eragon a very clear shot at Thorn, without giving him the added task of trying to avoid hitting us. We spiral to the ground and Sorin flares his wings, since Eragon's plan is to use Aren to end this battle immediately. I watch as a huge pile of rubble flies at Thorn, shredding his wing and sending him flying through the air, and not in a good way.
With the battle essentially decided, Murtagh yells to us that Galbatorix doesn't care if we take Dras-Leona, and that we can have it for all he cares. But for the harm caused to Thorn, he will have blood. He and Thorn fly off, but Sorin resists the urge to pursue them. Instead, he unleashes a roar and a torrent of fire that spans a length of over sixty feet.
With a day of battles finished, I feel rather tired. For only me and Sorin to go up against Murtagh and Thorn, as well as a host of Eldunari on our own for over half an hour, it was impressive. But it leaves me tired and sore, for the mental battle took more out of me that I would like to admit. I strip off my scale armor and down to my soft leather clothes. I fall down onto my bed and try to fall asleep.