Note: Okay so for this chapter I decided to switch from Rinia's POV to Murtagh's just so you can get a feel for what he's going through and because I love him (well duh) (-: R&R!

WILL I WAKE TOMORROW FROM THIS NIGHTMARE

Murtagh lay down on his bed looking at his dark ceiling in his large room. His room had practically no light in it save from the candle he kept next to his bed. The sheets on his bed were a deep scarlet and his wardrobe was a dark mahogany. His room seemed very empty because that was in it was his bed, his wardrobe, and a chair in the corner. As Murtagh stared desolately at the ceiling he thought of what had happened the day before. He so much regretted losing his temper and slapping Rinia's hand away when she was only trying to comfort him.

However what troubled more than that was that Eragon was not his real brother and he knew who Eragon's father was. The murderer of Morzan, Murtagh's father; the rider Brom. He remembered meeting Brom when he first met Eragon, the old man seemed strong even as he was dying. Murtagh then thought on his mother Selena. She had saved Eragon from being raised as Murtagh was raised, but why had she not cared for Murtagh? He had always blamed his father for how messed up his life had become, but if his mother had cared for him he wouldn't be lying in Uru'baen. His life would have been different, he wouldn't be fighting for Galbatorix and he wouldn't have hurt Rinia the way that he did. For the first time in his life he cursed his mother instead of his father. However he was soon distracted by a knock at the door. "Come in," Murtagh said and a young man, a servant of Galbatorix entered the room.

"The king would like to see you," the servant said and then left Murtagh alone in his room. Murtagh soon got up and walked out of his room towards Galbatorix's throne room. He soon stood in front of the large doors leading to the throne room and after only a moment of hesitation he opened them. The large room was very dark as it always was, the only light illuminating Galbatorix sitting in his throne, with his red eyes glowing as they always did.

"Murtagh," the king spoke in a cruel tone. "I hear that the young dragon rider has declined my offer to join forces with me, is this true?"

"Yes, it is sir," Murtagh spoke, never making eye contact with Galbatorix.

"So you admit that you failed in the task that I gave you?"

"Yes, sir." Galbatorix then stood up, walked toward Murtagh and harshly slapped him across the face.

"You seem to be failing a lot lately," Galbatorix spoke severely. "First you allow that girl to escape and now you fail to recruit a dragon rider. I am beginning to doubt where your allegiances lie."

"Sir I swear to you that I always remain loyal to you," Murtagh answered the king with fear in his voice.

"Then why did you go with the dragon rider into the forest where I doubt you were trying to persuade her to join sides with me!?" the king yelled at Murtagh. "Do you not remember what I told you about your mother? How I killed her?"

"You didn't kill her," Murtagh said to Galbatorix.

"You dare to talk back to me?" Galbatorix asked with fury.

"She's alive, you never killed her," Murtagh said strongly. Galbatorix slapped him with even more force then before.

"I could've! Your mother was a whore and a cheap one at that. Morzan never truly loved her, he only loved what he got from her, everything except you. You think that you dispised your father until the day that he died? Not nearly as much as he dispised you. I didn't kill your mother because if I had it would have solved your father's problem. Your mother was the only thing standing in the way of him killing you! He would constantly talk about how much he wanted you dead, the only reason that you are alive right now is because I saw him in you, even staring at you now I can see your father's face."

"I'm not my father," Murtagh said with strength.

"Yes, you are. Every day you grow more and more like him, you have the same strengths as him and the same weaknesses. He wanted the whore as you want the girl," Galbatorix said with disgust.

"No, I am not my father. He was heartless and he was evil," Murtagh said.

"Oh, look in a mirror! If you consider your father evil you would consider yourself evil too and slapping away the girl who you obviously want is heartless." This last statement silenced Murtagh. He could deny the fact he was turning into his father forever, but Galbatorix was right. Every day he grew more and more like his father and every day it was getting harder for him to deny it. "Good, you're silent now," Galbatorix said. "Now go to your room and stay there, I'm tired of you." Murtagh turned around and walked out of the throne room. He headed to his room and he soon reached the familiar door. He opened the door to his room and sat on his bed. He punched the wall with his hand and bit his lip.

He couldn't help but hate himself as much as he hated his father. No matter how much he hated to admit it Galbatorix was right, he was turning into his father.