Okay, stop hounding me. Its here.
Dawn was greeted by a sharp jab from Trianna's mind. It is time, she told Eragon and Auron. The pair jumped to their feet, and along with Saphira, the dwarves and Kull, hurried down the embankment to the clearing that would lead them to the battle field. Upon Auron and Saphira's insistence, Eragon climbed into his dragon's saddle as Auron and the others took up positions around her.
Surging through the gap an onto the field, they joined the procession when Nasuada appeared on her roan charger, Arya, Trianna and Auron's mother Orianna by her side. They acknowledged one another with nothing more than quick glances as they stalked towards the Empire. During the night, the vapors from the burning peat had gathered low to the ground, further obscuring the vision of those on the ground. With their muffled weapons and light feet, the Varden managed to make it three-quarters of the way to their enemy before being spotted by their sentries.
Alarm horns rang out, and Nasuada made herself heard. "Eragon! Tell Orrin to strike. To me, men of the Varden! Fight to overthrow the Empire! Fight for your freedom! CHARGE!"She spurred her horse forward, and with a terrifying bellow, the warriors followed. Conveying her words, Eragon informed the spellcaster that rode with Orrin, and moments later, the drumming of hooves signaled the arrival of the Surdan Cavalry, as they rushed into the Empire's flank. The two armies collided with an ear-splitting roar, as weapons, armor and flesh slammed into one another. Almost immediately, the wards Eragon and Auron had placed around their companions started to drawn strength from them as they deflected attacks.
The dragoness hung back from the leading edge of the battle, for she would be too exposed to the Empire's magicians, and her vanguard took up a phalanx in front of her, her mate directly before her daring any to try and harm her. Eragon began firing arrows from atop her back as he simultaneously began searching for the enemy spellcasters. A member of Du Vrangr Gata located the first magician, and Eragon propelled his consciousness along the path, from the friendly spellcaster to the enemy she grappled with. The Rider smashed his defenses and extinguished the man's life with one of the twelve words of death Oromis had taught him. From there, he also slew the soldiers the man had been protecting, and gave a small grimace in satisfaction as a group of men fell limp.
The Empire quickly recovered from the Varden's initial assault and manned their catapults and ballistae. The ceramic balls filled with liquid fire caused massive damage when they landed, and Eragon was forced to duck behind his shield as a piece of shrapnel spun towards him, only to be stopped by his and Auron's wards. Looking down at the Knight, Eragon held back a look of wonder as the silver-plated young warrior tore through no less than five soldiers that had broke the lines and charged at Saphira. Blood spurted along the length of his silver blades as he spun a horrific dance of death. Beside him, Orik, the dwarves and the Kull ripped into another group, each bellowing their own war cries.
Eragon knew that the war-engines needed to be taken out, or else they would rapidly harm the Varden's chances of survival. Instead of using magic, he reached out with his mind and dominated a soldier who tended one of the weapons. Using the man as his tool, Eragon had him slash and hack at the ropes that powered the machine. The soldier was dragged away by his fellows, but the damage was done. With a sharp crack, the machine backfired and tossed its arm into a knot of Empire soldiers. The Rider smiled grimly, and began to systematically disable the remainder of the war-engines.
For over an hour, Eragon grappled with Galbatorix's spellcasters, leaving the protection of his body to Saphira, Auron and the others. He became puzzled at their tactics; none directly rose to confront him, and he grew worried as he ripped information from one of the few he did find. The man's mind was filled with fear, and just before he committed suicide, Eragon heard the words: Ordered not to kill you or the dragons...not kill you or the dragons...
Before he could ask Saphira or Auron about this, Nasuada appeared before them, and Eragon recoiled at her appearance. Her armor and shield were covered with numerous dents, and blood streamed down her leg from a wound upon her thigh. "Eragon," she gasped. "I need you, all of you, to fight and show yourselves..."
She needs to be healed first! Auron shouted, caving in a man's helm, and as Eragon repeated the words, their leader shook her head.
"No! I will live, but we are lost unless the flow of soldiers can be stopped." She swayed dangerously in her saddle. "The Varden need...and Rider...and Knight."
Eragon dismounted Saphira and saluted his liege with Zar'roc. "You have them." He planted himself by Saphira's right paw and Auron took up a similar position on her left. All three looked in each others eyes. Shall we dance, my soul-partners?
We shall, Saphira and Auron answered as one.
Their separate minds became one, as they merged their identities more completely than ever before. There was no more Eragon, Saphira or Auron. There was simply them. As a single entity, they roared, leaped forward and shattered a path to the front lines. From their mouths streamed a torrent of fire. They spun and slashed through rows of men with silver streaks of lightning. It was their arm the brought down the iridescent red blade to splinter shields and rent armor asunder. There was no stopping the terrific force that the three beings had become.
The battleground became littered with piles upon piles of their enemies, and yet there always seemed to be more to take their place. As the long hours dragged on, they were forced to reduce the wards they had placed around each other and their companions, so as to keep what strength they had. Stripped of their arcane defenses, more and more injuries found their way onto their bodies. Eragon's left arm was numb from the constant pounding on his shield, and he was sure one or more fingers were broken. Auron was constantly forced to wipe blood from his eyes that trickled from a slash at his temple. Saphira had several cuts in her unprotected wings and took a javelin through the plate of armor that covered her shoulder. Alongside them, two of the dwarves and two of the Kull fell to the countless enemies that pressed on them.
Unbidden, the sun began to slide from its zenith and sink towards the horizon.
The trio had just finished their seventh foray forward into the slew of Empire soldiers, when a loud, shrill trumpet sounded in the east, and King Orrin began shouting, "The dwarves! The dwarves are here!"
Dwarves! Eragon shouted, and jumped onto Saphira's back. The dragoness leaped into the air, struggling to level off with her tattered wings. Once above the Burning Plains, they could see the truth of Orrin's words.
Out of the east marched a great host of dwarves, all laden with heavy mail and hefting their weapons. At the front, strode the proud King Hrothgar, clad in his golden armor and raising his war hammer Volund in greeting when he saw the Rider and dragon. Eragon bellowed as hard as he could, the sight of the dwarven army renewing his spirit and vigor, and Saphira roared in unison. When they dropped back to earth, he stood high in the saddle and proclaimed the news to all; the dwarves had joined the war, and the tide of battle was turning.
Then, another cry arose from the west; a ship was landing along the Jiet River. We cannot let a ship land if it is bringing reinforcements, Eragon snarled. Then, he reached out to Trianna to inform her than he and Saphira would deal with the ship. Glancing down towards Auron, he began to speak but his friend cut him off.
I can take care of things here. Go, he urged, slicing through another soldier. Saphira briefly enveloped her mate with the thoughts of her love, before leaping into the air once more and wheeling towards the ship now approaching the bank. From their lofty vantage point, they could see just what kind of chaos the battleground had become; small groups broken off from the main bodies of the armies engaged each other, only to be swept up as the dwarves charged into the side.
Eragon lost sight of the battle as Saphira raced at the unknown vessel. He prepared to destroy it by whatever means necessary, but as she dove, he looked closer at the deck of the ship, and nearly fell out of the saddle in shock.
There, standing tall and proud, despite the war raging only a half-mile away...was his cousin, Roran.
H-how? He had known from his scrying in Ellesmera that Roran and the other villagers had fled Carvahall, and when he saw them, he discovered they were at sea. But to encounter them here of all places? Eragon reached out with his mind unbidden, to touch what he found to truly be the mind of his cousin. Roran? With his keen vision, the Rider saw Roran's lips move. Think your words and I shall here them.
Aye, it is me, Eragon.
The village?
All here.
Eragon was astounded. He began to ask how and why, but then stopped himself. Now was not the time, not when the battle still raged. Stay where you are, until the battle is decided. It will be safer.
He could feel the torrent of emotions stem from his cousin. Anger. Confusion. Skepticism. Even betrayal. You have much to answer for Eragon. We must talk.
I know, Eragon said, understanding full well what Roran meant. The death of Garrow. His running away with almost no warning. The secrets he had kept that cost them so much. But not now. Later...I promise. With that, he urged Saphira to turn around and head back to the battle. Contacting Trianna, he informed her that the ship was in fact friendly, and if Nasuada could spare a herald to explain the situation to those on board.
He tried to push this mind-shocking revelation from his mind, to focus on the task at hand, but could not help but picture his cousin's accusing stare.
Auron ducked and twisted as a soldier of the Empire hacked at him with a greatsword. Wrenching his arms forward, he impaled the man through his chest, and using the momentum from his dive, swung his armored legs around to break the necks of the two soldiers next in line. Beside him, Orik and Nar Garzhvog ripped into their own foes, the near endless tide of crimson garbed soldiers advancing on them slowly. The Knight and his companions held their ground, dealing death to all who dared strike at them, their weapons and armor smeared with the grime of war.
Blocking an attack from one enemy whilst cutting out the legs of another, Auron was forced to leap back as a group of five soldier pressed towards him. Orik and the others were preoccupied with their own fights, and he sucked in a quick breath before striking. Once, twice, three times he slashed out with his twin elven blades, the silver metal gleaming in the sheer fire of battle. Two soldier fell to the twirling swords as their comrades attacked back. Auron twisted and sidestepped, dispatching one foe and facing the next. He blocked a stab, parried and managed to slice the man's arm off, crippling him and allowing the youth to finish him off. The last man got through his defenses, and he saw the tempered blade whip towards his head, and time seemed to slow down as he struggled to bring his own weapons up.
A bright, dark gray colored sword sprouted from the soldier's chest and he toppled, only to be replaced by Orianna in her deep blue mail and armor. Around her, the dwarves surged into the area and collided against the main body of the Empire's army. "I thought I told you to be careful!" she shouted.
Auron blinked, then quick as the wind, stabbed out yelling "Kveyvka!" A jet of silver light whistled past her ear and impacted the man slashing towards her from behind, burning through his heart. Orianna whipped around, too late, to see her quarry crumple in a smoldering heap. "And now we're even," Auron shot back, coming to her side. Mother and son favored each other with a brief look, before diving back into the remaining clump of soldiers, twisting and dancing like a pair of oiled serpents. It was clear when Auron got his talent from.
A flash of gold, and the young Knight found himself next to the dwarven king himself. "A good fight!" the king roared. Auron was about to respond in kind, when the ground shook, and he felt a blast of warm air on his neck. Saphira roughly nudged the youth as Eragon dismounted a hailed the king. Hrothgar praised his appearance, and greeted Saphira as well. "I haven't forgotten your vow, dragon, to mend our beloved Star Sapphire. Even now, our greatest artisans are rebuilding it, piece by piece, in preparation for you to make it whole once more."
And I shall, she promised, using Eragon to convey her words. The dwarven king beamed, then turned and yelled to his kinsmen, urging them forward. Auron, his mother and Eragon bellowed alongside him as they joined the dwarves in charging at the Empire's flank. Saphira roared high and proud, bounding along beside her companions.
With the entrance of the dwarves into the battle, the tide shifted in favor of the Varden. Also, more of Angela's poisons seemed to be taking effect, further opening opportunities to push the Empire back. The soldiers started to realize that fortune no longer favored them, and hundreds surrendered, defected outright, or simply turned and fled.
They day began to pass into late afternoon.
A horn sounded from the rear of the Empire's army, and a large drum began to beat, its massive notes stilling the field as all looked for its source. Looking towards the north, Eragon saw an ominous shadow hovering above the field. He struggled to make it out as it came closer, only to have his heart leap into his throat, and his dread was echoed by both Auron and Saphira.
From above them, a blood-red dragon sparkled it the ray of sunlight that cast sideways through the haze. With bone-white spikes and claws, the dragon roared and descended towards the Varden. Atop its back, sat a man in polished steel armor and armed with a hand-and-a-half sword.
Another dragon! Saphira roared, both in surprise and fear. The king got another dragon to hatch!
From atop his crimson mount, the man lifted his hand and a beam of powerful ruby energy shot forth, only to impact King Hrothgar on the chest. The dwarven spellcasters shrieked in terror as the energy consumed their wards around the king, and they toppled, dead. Hrothgar clutched his chest and collapsed, the gathered dwarves screaming and yelling in despair as their king fell.
"No!" Eragon, Auron and Saphira cried as one. I will kill you for that, the Rider vowed. As they were, he knew he and Saphira were fatigued and unable to properly face such an opponent, but they had no choice. Only they could hope to match another dragon and Rider. He spied a downed horse, and transferred the animal's remaining energy to himself and his dragoness. Eragon leaped into her saddle, shouting, "Orik, Auron! Take command!" The Knight dashed to Saphira's side, and placing a hand on her neck, gave her and Eragon a small but powerful burst of his own depleted energy, trying to hide his own worry.
I love you, Auron said to the dragoness and her Rider, knowing full well the stakes of the fight.
I love you, she echoed back for them, before turning and launching herself into the air.
She rose furiously to meet her crimson scaled foe and bellowed a mighty challenge. Eragon drove out with his kind to the other Rider, only to be met with a stronger, fiercer response from him. He quickly threw up his barriers, protecting himself and Saphira. The two dragons collided, grappling and kicking, trying to claw the belly of their opponent. It was all Eragon could do to hold on to Zar'roc as Saphira and the red dragon battled viciously.
They met again and again, snapping and biting, attempting to get their jaws around the others neck. The red dragon was smaller than Saphira, but his legs and shoulders were thick with muscle. He was built thickly like Auron's own dragon body, and both Eragon and Saphira knew all too well the power the silver dragon could muster in a physical fight. The red dragon wheeled around and nipped Saphira's tail, and both she and Eragon yelped in joined pain. She managed to shake her foe off, only to try and match him as both dragons began to twist and spiral through the air.
Eragon was dimly aware of Trianna shouting with her mind at him. Shadeslayer, you must help us! We cannot stop them. They'll kill everyone, its the - . Her voice was cut off as the opposing Rider stabbed once again at his mind and he was forced to duck behind his mental barriers. He thought he felt Auron's mind touch his, and mention something about going after someone, but then it all became blank except for Eragon's own walls around his mind.
The two dragons fought each other for a time longer, until both began to feel their fatigue. Their breath came in great gulps and there was froth at their muzzles. His mind closed to even her, Eragon was forced to shout, "Its no good Saphira! Land, I will fight him on the ground if I must."
She grunted in reluctance, and descended to the floor of the plains, landing on a plateau of rock along the edge of the Jiet River. The red dragon and his Rider alighted on the opposite end, and the younger male snarled weakly past his exhaustion at his foes. Both Rider's sized each other up, then approached the middle as their dragons circled one another in the background.
Eragon blocked an overhanded swing from the steel-clad Rider, and began a series of complex attacks, only to stopped by his opponent's sword at every turn. It was almost as if the man knew his style, and could anticipate his every move. The initial surge of energy Eragon took from Auron and the dying horse began to wear off, and he found himself pushed back a step, then another, before he was on the defensive.
The red blade in his hand grew heavy, an finally, his opponent bashed aside his weapons with a lazy flick of his own. Eragon slipped and fell, then saw as the Rider twisted his sword in a familiar fashion. In a last ditch effort, he threw himself at the steel-clad man, and ripped off his helm. Horror, shock, confusion and panic emanated from him and Saphira as the identity of the Rider was revealed.
Murtagh.
A blast of air, and Eragon was thrown to the ground. Pain lanced through his back, and he struggled to rise to his knees. "H-how...you died!" he practically screamed.
Murtagh's face darkened. "I did not die. It was the Twins, Eragon. It had always been the Twins. They dominated a group of Urgals to kill Ajihad and capture me." The edge of his mouth twitched in a faint sneer. "And then they brought me before the King."
"But, why?" Eragon cried. "Why would you agree to serve Galbatorix? You ran away because of him!"
"You think I agreed to this?" Murtagh roared, slashing at the air with his arm. "First, the King tortured me, then ripped every shred about you and Saphira from my mind."
"You betrayed us! Me!"
Murtagh snarled fiercely. "I had no choice! When Thorn hatched for me, Galbatorix forced us both to swear loyalty to him in the ancient language. I wanted to resist, but..." For the first time, Murtagh's eyes softened and his voice lowered. "Thorn was only a baby...but the King, he..." He brought his slightly shaking hands together, in the ghostly pantomime of choking someone, and Eragon fought down a wave of revulsion at the sheer vileness of Galbatorix's actions. The steel-clad Rider brought himself back under control. "We cannot disobey him now."
He looked at Eragon, scrutinizing his features. "You don't even look human anymore," he sneered, the cold edge returning. "The elves do that to you?" When Eragon remained silent, he simply shrugged. "No matter, soon I will-" His voice trailed off as he peered past Eragon's shoulder, and the young Rider dared to follow his gaze.
Standing atop a low hill, the Twins stood casting balls of sickly green fire into the Varden and dwarves, wearing evil faces of utter glee as they slaughtered the people they once called friends. Arrows flocked towards them, but they stopped halfway up the hill, and the Twins only roared with maniacal laughter, obliterating the archers from their lofty vantage point.
There was a flash of silver, followed by a bolt of blue-white, and the Twins were forced to duck behind their arcane barriers as the spells slammed into the ground near them. Eragon was sure they snarled in rage as they turned to face their newest adversaries. From the foot of the hill, Auron and Orianna had begun engaging the Twins, covering each other and ducking behind fingers of rock to avoid the Twins own spells. With a thunderclap of boiling energy, the four spellcasters went at it. Off to the side of the hill, Eragon could swear another familiar figure was inching his way towards the battle.
Eragon's stomach clenched in horror as he watched his companions take on two of the most powerful magicians they had met yet. Behind him, Saphira recoiled in fear seeing her mate an his predicament, and her Rider began to mouth a spell that would transport Auron away from his deadly encounter, but Murtagh stopped him.
"Wait, I want to see what the little half-breed can do," he grinned sadistically. Saphira bared her fangs and snarled deeply, but he gave her a look of contempt. "Relax, Saphira. I will not hurt him, or help the Twins in any way." When met with a look of skeptiscism, he repeated the words in the ancient language.
"You won't?" Eragon asked suspiciously, voicing Saphira's own words. "Why?"
Murtagh snorted. "Galbatorix wants you alive, all three of you." His eyes flashed in grim amusement. "In fact, he is looking forward to making Saphira and Auron spend quite a fair bit of time together..." his evil smile turned towards the dragoness, "...despite whether they are willing participants or not." Even though his mind was sealed, Eragon could only guess at the boiling inferno of rage that would be coming from his dragoness, and she bared her teeth even more. The Black King no doubt wanted to force Auron and Saphira to mate repeatedly, to produce eggs for which he could twist and force to hatch for a new generation of Rider loyal to him. He was about to add a sneer of his own, when something else caught his eye.
For a brief second, Eragon could have sworn the red dragon – Thorn – averted his eyes and moved the tiniest bit away from his Rider at his suggestive and malicious words. A pang of confusion and wonder flared in Eragon's mind, but he snapped out of it a split-second later as another flash lit the battleground.
Then, he watched in utter helplessness as the boy who had become more than a brother to him fought for his life.
Auron dove and rolled behind another jutting rock, only inches from where the sphere of green energy impacted the ground, sending an explosion of dirt into the air. He panted, and rolled deeper into the rock's shadow. Several feet away, he could see his mother Orianna duck and roll in a similar fashion to avoid another blast.
This was absolute insanity. Both he and his mother, along with the Twins, still had wards around them to protect against the twelve words of death. Not only that, but the intense iron walls that surrounded each of their minds made it nearly impossible to force their way into the mind of their opponent, or to anticipate their next arcane attack.
Which meant both pair spellcasters were now intent on obliterating each other through sheer force alone.
Auron remembered Brom's words about a 'Wizard's duel' but this was nothing like it. The Twins had merged their minds together – not unlike he and Eragon or Saphira would do – making penetration of their minds extremely difficult. On the other hand, Orianna and her son were forced to shield their minds onto themselves, effectively cutting themselves off from each other. This gave the Twins a distinct advantage, one that Auron cursed as he avoided another blast of sickly green fire.
A sharp cry left him, as his tired legs failed to move fast enough, and he caught a bolt of fire on his left shoulder, driving him down. The dragonscale armor and what little of his wards he had left took the brunt of the blow, but it still managed to singe the outer armor, and his shoulder burned with intense pain. He drove his arm to the ground, forcing himself back up and in the fight, only to have sheer horror grip in at what he saw.
Seeing her son take a hit, Orianna instinctively turned to him in fear, and it proved to be a fateful mistake. A ball of green fire impacted her stomach, and she was slammed backwards, the fire bursting against her armor. She lay in a crumpled heap, her ears deaf to the scream of horror from her son.
His blue eyes burning in silver in feral rage, Auron ripped himself off the ground and dodged another bolt, answering back with one of his own. Again and again he struck out, each bolt of hot lightning draining his strength even more, only to be harmlessly deflected by the Twins' double defenses. Not caring that he was rapidly deteriorating, Auron's only thought was bloodshed.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement, and in a split-second, the tables turned. Crouching low to the ground, he saw an oddly familiar figure crawling his way towards the backs of the unaware Twins. A sudden flash of recognition from Carvahall, and it was all Auron needed to act. He gathered whatever strength and energy he had left, and thrust his mind out at the Twins. He knew it was futile, but it was the only option. The identical spellcasters grinned evily as they felt his weak touch, and bore down on him.
With their attention focused solely on Auron, Roran was able to summit the small hill quickly and he lifted himself up, swinging his hammer with all his might. The weapon caved in the skull of the spellcaster, dropping him like a rock, and his twin convulsed and screamed in agony. He too met a swift and brutal end under Roran's hammer, and the man bellowed his victory.
Auron sagged, completely wiped of strength, and tumbled slightly down the hill. His energy was almost nothing, yet his body burned with both pain and fear. A moment later, and strong arms were trying to lift him up, and he was vaguely aware of Roran attempting to help him, but the youth pushed him away. Staggering on numbed legs, he struggled to his mother's prone form, praying he was having a nightmare. Tears streaked his face, as he looked for signs of life...
...only to gasp as the woman coughed and groaned in pain.
"Mother!" he shouted, trying to help her up. The front of her armor was blackened and burned, but he felt the life beat steadily within her. Nearly toppling with relief, he saw that the wards he had placed around her, along with her own, had negated the majority of the attack to her armor. Orianna struggled to sit up, gasping for air, and holding her abdomen. "Thank the gods...I thought..."
She managed to reach out and take her son's cheek. She coughed again, but managed a weak smile through her pain. "I've...ugh...taken worse than this, Auron. Remember, I knew Brom once." Despite himself, Auron gave into a small smile.
Next to them, Roran knelt and helped the woman to her feet, and allowing her to lean heavily on him. His eyes brimmed with surprise and wonder at seeing them here. He had known Orianna and Auron from Carvahall; the kindly woman married to an evil tax monger, and her son who spent more time with Eragon than he did. Now they were here, fighting the Empire in the thick theatre of war. Wordlessly, he looked from one to the other, trying to form a question, but unable to find his tongue.
"Its a long story," both mother and son muttered.
Around them, the battle tuned back in favor of the Varden and the dwarves at the death of the Twins, and the Empire was forced back, until the horn of retreat began to sound.
Eragon felt the smallest bit of relief leave him as he watched the events unfold, though he was wary at the way his companions struggled to leave the field. He tried to peer closer, to ascertain just how badly they were hurt, but the smoke and vapors clouded his vision, and they disappeared as they moved towards the still raging battle. Eragon flinched as he saw Murtagh move, but the steel-clad Rider merely crossed his arms over his chest, and snorted. "Hmph...I'm impressed. Your dragon friend has indeed got some fight in him." He smirked, then dropped his arms and turned back to Eragon. "But our business is unfinished, Eragon."
The younger Rider tried to reason. "There is still hope for you, Murtagh. Join us! Between us and Arya, we could find a way to negate Galbatorix's bonds on you...we could..."
"You cannot help me, Eragon," Murtagh said sadly. "No one but the King can release us from our oaths."
Eragon could not deny the sympathy he felt for Murtagh and his dragon. As much as he hated it – hated everything about their situation – he knew what must be done. He burst forth with his mind at Murtagh, leaping from the ground at the same time, intending to stab his old friend through the heart.
"Letta!" Murtagh barked, and Eragon was slammed back to his knees, frozen by invisible shackles that bound his hands and feet. Saphira roared and pounced, until Murtagh shifted to her and yelled, "Risa!" With a startled yelp, she was suspended in mid-air, unable move despite her thrashing.
Eragon wondered how Murtagh had the strength for this. Even he, with Auron's help, could barely hope to match such a feat. He fought back against the magic, but it was no use. Murtagh was too powerful.
"You cannot hope to compete with me," Murtagh growled. He walked up to Eragon and pointing the tip of his sword against the downed Rider's neck. "It would be so easy to drag you back to Uru'baen."
"Don't," Eragon gazed deep into his eyes. "We were friends once, Murtagh. The King cannot have corrupted you so far as to forget that. There is still hope for you..." For a moment, they simply stared at each other, expressionless and silent.
"I was ordered to try and capture you," Murtagh said finally. "I tried...Make sure we do not cross paths again." He lowered the sword. "But before I go...I take my inheritance." He pried Zar'roc from Eragon's fist and unbuckled the red sheath from his belt. "It is only right that Morzan's sword go to his eldest son, not his youngest."
No, Eragon thought numbly. He's lying...
"I never told you my mother's name, did I?" Murtagh leaned in with a cruel smile. "Selena. Selena was my mother, and yours. Morzan is our father. The Twins figured it out while they rooted around in your head."
"You're lying!"
The steel-clad Rider merely shook his head and repeated it in the ancient language. Eragon bit back his revulsion and unbidden, Angela's prophecy rang in his ears. Betrayal is clear...and it shall come from within your family.
With a last sneer, Murtagh pulled away from Eragon to retrieve his helm. He never looked back to his suspended companions as he mounted Thorn's saddle. There was a brief moment where the ruby dragon's eyes lingered on Saphira, before he crouched and propelled himself into the air. Only after they vanished past the horizon did the magic holding the dragoness and her Rider release them.
Saphira crawled over to Eragon, and nuzzled him gently. Now that Murtagh had left, and the battle over, they could open their minds to each other once more. Are you alright, little one?
He never responded, merely staring at the ground in defeat. Murtagh's words rang over and over again in his head, and he felt the tears well up behind his eyes. Eragon sat motionless for a time, simply letting his dragon nuzzle and attempt to comfort him. The battle below had stopped, and the Empire had withdrawn back across the river. The Varden were picking themselves up as well, pulling back to their own defensive positions.
After another long bout of silence, Eragon wiped his eyes and rose to his feet. Come on, he said to Saphira. We need to get back. The others are no doubt worried about us.
The dragoness snorted softly, and lifted her head to gaze out over the body-strew field of carnage and death. He felt her searching, trying to locate her mate, but neither she nor her Rider could feel him, and her worry rose involuntarily. Through their connection, he could feel the anxiety and doubt. If he was out there, why couldn't they feel him? Eragon fought down the knot forming in his belly. He had seen Auron and his mother, along with Roran, limp off of the field...he was almost sure of it.
Together, Rider and dragon picked their way down the rocky plateau and began the slow trek through the hundreds and thousands of bodies back to the Varden.
Hmm...that didn't turn out as long as I thought. Mostly because I ended up streamlining a few parts and details. (I mean, come on, we all know what happens, right? Not much sense in repeating every little detail.) Got the important bits, as well as some extras.
The fight scene with Auron and the Twins was a little something of my own. I know some people may point out that magic may not quite work like that...but hey, I thought it would be a little more exciting than describing how they stared each other down for minutes at a time trying to do the mental-probe thing.
(*shrugs*)
Oh well. Now that the battle is done, and Eldest pretty much concluded, we can get onto the new, dramatic – and somewhat darker – series of events planned out in Brisingr.
Goody. (*evil smile*)
Until next time!