Chapter X: Invasion

"Letta!" Eragon called out, and the great fireball was stopped in mid-air. There was a wave of his hand and he changed its direction, sending it harmlessly over the ocean where it eventually dissipated.

The man was very aware of the crowd that was forming behind him. The Riders who had taken to the air first were still in a line above the beach, but thankfully they were heeding his words. They were strong, and while the number of them would likely have been enough to do some damage it wouldn't have been without cost. They didn't know this foe like he did.

He had Saphira hover in the air above the water, both of their gazes fixed on the dragon and rider pair that was coming at them now. This was disconcerting on a number of levels; he hadn't seen Murtagh in over a hundred years. Not since they'd parted after the battle with Galbatorix. Reaching out with his mind he found that both Murtagh and Thorn's were veiled, and as the pair came towards them Eragon desperately attempted to reach out with offerings of peace. Whatever Murtagh wanted, they could discuss it first.

'Eragon, they're not stopping,' Saphira told him.

The man gritted his teeth. 'I know. We can't attack. We can't start a fight.' If they did that this was going to end badly. Murtagh was one secret that he had kept from the Riders that followed him now, and only Blödhgarm and those who had been part of that last war knew he even existed. He wouldn't be able to explain everything in time if a fight broke out.

Even as Thorn got closer his speed increased, but Eragon held fast. He hoped that his brother would stop, that he was not here on some sort of suicide mission.

The red dragon's body flattened and Eragon watched as Murtagh braced himself on his back; they were not planning on stopping.

'Eragon!' Saphira cried, but it was too late to employ even evasive maneuvers.

'Brace yourself!' he told his partner, but he knew he didn't have to.

The speed with which the red dragon collided with the blue one was such that it sent both of them tumbling to the ground. Saphira had braced herself but Thorn was bigger than she was, and the sheer weight of him knocked her from the sky. It wasn't without consequence; his armour was thick but Saphira's claws were sharp. They found the chinks in his plates quickly and the male dragon roared out with pain and frustration, allowing Saphira a chance to retaliate once they were on the ground.

A cloud of sand heralded their arrival, and there were more Riders in the air now. All of the trainees had mounted and were hovering save for Ilia and Luan, who had made it to the beach with a few of the others.

'We have to help him!' Ilia called out, her mind reaching out to those who were within range.

'The dragons are too close together. We won't hit one without the other,' came another voice. Even though she'd never heard the dragon before, she knew it was Brin. He and Ailara were standing on the beach next to them, poised and ready to jump in at any given moment.

'Then no magic!' She insisted urgently.

'Eragon told us to stand down. That dragon is the biggest I've ever seen, and we wouldn't stand a chance.' It was Ailara this time, though Ilia could hear the frustration in her thoughts as well. They were trusting their leader's judgment, but it was clear that that was going to wear out if things didn't change soon.

Despite landing on her back Saphira managed to ensure that Eragon did not suffer as a result of the fall. With Thorn's reaction to her claws she was able to get back to her feet, but she wasn't going to hang back this time. With a mighty roar she lunged, and as she did so Eragon leapt from her back and onto the sand, drawing his sword as he too made his charge.

Thorn collected himself in time to meet Saphira, but this time the female dragon had the upper hand. With fangs and claws bared she went for him, putting him immediately onto the defensive.

At the sight of Eragon on the ground Murtagh followed suit, pulling out his own blade to meet his brother's.

The sparks quite literally flew as Zar'roc met Brisingr. Red clashed with blue and it was all Riders and dragons could do to watch as the battle unfolded before their eyes. The clanging of blades and the scraping of teeth and claws on scales echoed through the outpost in such a way that it had nearly all of its occupants watching in one way or another.

For those that did not know this challenger, apart from being astonished that there was a Rider and dragon completely unaccounted for at all, they were shocked to see the skill with which he matched their master. All of them had seen Eragon spar, but none of them had truly seen him fight. He was all grace and agility as he moved whereas his mysterious opponent was brute force and power. They were both fast, and despite the difference in their style they were evenly matched.

If there was one advantage that Eragon had, it was that he knew the terrain and his opponent did not. Even as he fought he was aware that Blödhgarm was standing close and watching, and he knew it was only the fact that the elf had not joined in that had kept everyone else at bay. He was well aware of the confusion around him and the want to join in, and he didn't have the mental capacity to tell them to back off and fight Murtagh at the same time. Every single blow was matched, though he did notice that his brother had grown a little rusty over the years. Eragon had spent the last century and a half practicing, and he had no idea what Murtagh had been up to. The man had always been an excellent swordsman, however, and that seemed to have remained true. Eragon had improved, and it was clear by the frustration on Murtagh's face that he was noticing this.

Sand made for a difficult battlefield however, and he knew the dragons were feeling it. Saphira was smaller but more agile than Thorn, who had grown into his body but still almost didn't seem quite used to its size. The female dragon kept them on the ground, knowing that he was a much better fighter when he was in there air. Their fight had showers of sand covering those that were near, and Saphira had managed to pound out a hole to attack from. Thorn could not get underneath her now, and while it looked like he had her pinned she was able to strike each time he got too close.

It gave Eragon an idea, and he manipulated Murtagh so that he was facing the dragons. 'Saphira!' Eragon called out, and in a split second her gaze caught him and she immediately knew what he was thinking. Decades of being together had strengthened their bond in such a way that occasionally not even thoughts were needed to communicate. Even as Thorn continued his assault there was a flick of her tail which sent a wall of sand towards the men.

Murtagh, not having noticed it until it was too late, was forced to lift his arm to cover his eyes. As the sand hit him Eragon did also, lunging and using the already defensive footing that he had forced his opponent onto to knock him completely onto his back.

Thorn paused mid-strike, suddenly aware that his rider was no longer in combat. This allowed Saphira her chance to get the upper hand, and springing from her spot she too knocked her opponent over and pressed her claws into the base of his throat.

The tip of Eragon's sword was pointed to Murtagh's chest, ready to strike if he so much as thought the wrong thing. Eragon was on high alert, his jaw set and his eyes stern. For all the noise they made earlier there was silence now, save for the heaving of their chests with each breath. Eragon was well aware of the kind of magician and fighter that Murtagh was, and he was ready for any kind of assault that would come his way. He sensed Blödhgarm this time as well, and he knew Murtagh wasn't going to win this.

The dark-haired man on the ground watched Eragon for a moment before casting his gaze aside, but after seeing that Zar'roc had been knocked out of his reach, and knowing that he had no hope of winning anything with so many Riders and dragons surrounding them, Murtagh slumped against the ground with defeat.

There were a few more moments of tense silence; Eragon was not quite convinced. The two men stared each other down until Eragon eventually sighed and removed the tip of his blade, satisfied with finally having been allowed to see Murtagh's intentions.

"A simple 'hello' would have sufficed," he said, holding out his hand to help the other up.

Pushing himself up a little, Murtagh watched his brother. "That would have been boring."

Ignoring the offer of help he got himself to his feet, brushing himself off. It was here that Murtagh finally took stock of the situation. There were now twelve dragons in the air, all of varying size, each with Riders on their backs. Some of them were saddled and some were not, which told him that a few had been caught off-guard. On the beach there were at least twenty more pairs plus those without dragons, and he could sense the rest of them not far away. Some of them on the beach had taken to surrounding Thorn, though Murtagh thought his dragon could have taken on most of them and won. "Looks like you've got yourself quite the empire here," he commented.

Eragon knew Murtagh had chosen his words on purpose, so he ignored the man. It was helped by the arrival of Torian and Oleg, both of them looking rather angry. Eragon suspected that this would be for more reasons than just that they had been attacked.

"Are you alright?" he asked, and Eragon nodded. To his credit, the man was kind and caring first. Eragon knew he had a lot to answer for however, and each and every Rider here would be wanting to hear about it.

Anticipating the questions to come, Eragon continued. "Murtagh this is Torian, my Second-in-Command. Torian, meet Murtagh. My brother."

"What brings you here?" Eragon asked, once they were safely in the Council Room. Eragon had gathered his Elite to meet with the man, still not completely trusting him. While Eragon did not truly think that Murtagh had malicious intentions, the man had a rather colourful past that prevented him from being trusted fully.

"See you've still got your bodyguard," Murtagh said, motioning to Blödhgarm.

"Deflecting is not going to work, but yes, Blödhgarm decided to join me. He's gotten much stronger since the last time you saw him." That was saying something, since the elf had been about as powerful as they came before.

"Eragon, before he tells us why he's here I think you owe us an explanation. We can't make judgements on his reasons if we don't know the whole truth," said Torian, and Eragon knew he was right. He'd just been hoping to get to that later.

A heavy sigh escaped the man. "Murtagh is the only Rider that the Empire does not know about," Eragon explained. "He put himself into exile after the end of the Rider war. Murtagh and his dragon, Thorn, were instrumental in the battle and the reward for that was complete autonomy on the condition that they not interfere with anything in any way."

The answer was a little evasive, and Torian had spent long enough with Eragon to know that while he wasn't lying there was more to the story than this. "And on which side was Murtagh instrumental?" he probed.

Eragon's lips pressed into a thin line, and Torian knew he had hit his mark. "Both," he answered.

This sent a murmur through the crowd, and Eragon lifted his hands to silence them. "I am aware that I have been keeping this from you, and the reason for that has purely been selfish. Murtagh is the son of Morzan of the Forsworn, and you can imagine what kind of father he would have been. We share a mother, who escaped with me before Morzan knew I existed," he started.

"You are the son of Morzan?" asked Ronin, another of the first New Order of Riders.

Eragon shook his head. "We believed so, for a time. I am the son of Brom, one of the last Dragon Riders. But that is irrelevant. The truth is that Murtagh left the influence of his father and Galbatorix. His intention, I believe," he turned to Murtagh as he spoke, "was to leave them behind entirely. But Murtagh was captured, and Galbatorix tortured him. When Thorn hatched he tortured the young dragon in such a way that had Murtagh relenting, and Galbatorix learning their true names. Once that happened, there was no going back."

The look on Murtagh's face was unreadable, though Eragon did not think the man was enjoying hearing his history laid out like this. Despite being a rider the man looked old and haggard, his hair and beard had grown long and his gaze was far more ancient than it should have been. Eragon would not go into detail of the man's triumphs and follies, but he hoped this was enough.

"Why would you keep his existence from us?" asked Torian.

Eragon turned back to the man, feeling a pull in his heart as he could sense the slight betrayal that the man was feeling. "Because Murtagh had suffered enough. He would never have been a willing servant of the Empire, and forcing him to do so would have made grounds for a dangerous adversary. I believed it was best to let him be. That, and I have not seen him nor heard even rumours of him since we parted on the battlefield."

There was silence then, and Eragon knew that they would need time to think about his answers. He did not think he had completely lost the trust of his Riders, but he knew that they had some things to consider now.

When no one else had any further questions, he turned back to Murtagh. "Which brings me back to why you are here. I cannot imagine you would have come out of hiding just to stop by."

Murtagh had been listening to the conversation carefully, uncertain as to how the Riders would take the news. He hadn't been aware that Eragon had said nothing of him to the rest of them, but he had known he was taking a risk in coming here. It was just that he didn't think anyone else was capable of fixing this problem, and he wasn't exactly going to go presenting himself to the rulers now.

"I've been dwelling with wild dragons and nomadic tribes near the east coast. I found some of the first hatchlings and Thorn and I took them to a place where they could be safe and hidden," he explained. Eragon had a lot of questions about that, but now was not the time. It certainly explained why he had gone unnoticed; he had been essentially hiding in plain sight.

"You've come far to get here," Eragon stated. The eastern shores of Alagaësia were hundreds of leagues away.

Murtagh nodded. "I wouldn't have done it if I didn't think it was necessary, but I believe it is. Something is happening on the coast, and it started spreading. I followed it all the way to Vroengard, but by the time I realized that's where it was going I was too late. At first I thought it had finally given way to the poison, but it was different."

Eragon's jaw clenched and he glanced around the room. He didn't like what he was hearing. "What did you find?"

"It's just…gone. The island itself is there, but everything on it has disappeared. Or rather, rotten away at such a pace I have not seen before. I noticed it on the borders of Du Weldenvarden, as if something was trying to break through the wards, but appeared to give up. Vroengard looked like it was attacked afterwards. That's what it looked like, an attack. The reason I took so long was because I followed a trail of it as it travelled west. I thought it was tracking a group of dragons, for there were signs of them, but I never found them. I don't know if that's because of coincidence, or if…" Murtagh trailed off.

"Or if they were being hunted," Eragon finished for him. Murtagh nodded.

Silence hung in the room again as Eragon looked around his Council. Thoughts were not on display, but he knew what some of them were thinking.

Murtagh's eyes narrowed. "You're not surprised. You've seen this before."

"Unfortunately, yes," Eragon said with a sigh. "We noticed it in the north a few months ago. We didn't think too much of it save for it being something of interest until it started travelling eastward and southward. We have no idea what it could be or what is causing it. Did you find anything else?"

Murtagh shook his head. "Not explicitly, no. I've heard rumours; the nomadic tribes in the east kept referring to 'The Shadow' and I couldn't figure out what they were talking about. They wouldn't speak of it, and it took a lot of convincing for one of them to tell me that it was an 'ancient thing' best not talked about. I learned nothing more than that, but my resources are thin."

This was more information than they'd had so far, but it still wasn't much. Regardless, it appeared that whatever they were facing was in fact some sort of creature, and one that was potentially strong enough to kill dragons. This was not going well.

After a short while of deliberation, Eragon stood to his full height for he had been leaning over the back of a chair at the table. He had not been able to sit for being too wound up from both the battle and the circumstances. "We will think on this and discuss it later on. We will need to let everyone know exactly what is going on here."

The revelation of Eragon's words before they'd disappeared to the Council Room rippled through the gathered crowd like a wave, and it was not long before everyone at the outpost and the town knew. There were many questions floating around, and while it wasn't going to shake their faith in their leader they certainly had a lot of questions for him. No one had been aware that there was another dragon and Rider pair out there, let alone one that would be Eragon's brother. Half-brother, someone had said, and someone else stated that they had in fact been cousins. Since those who could confirm that were currently in a meeting in the locked room, no one really knew for sure.

By the time evening rolled around there was no news, though everyone seemed to be waiting. By now the entire collection of around three hundred people plus dragons (there were far less of them, since not everyone was a Rider), was gathered in and around the Great Hall, all of them awaiting some sort of explanation. Usually when the Council met they were happy to be informed when the time came, but these were very different circumstances.

Eventually the meeting adjourned, and Eragon came to explain what was going on. It didn't seem like he'd left out any details, including who this Rider was and where he had come from. The truth was even more shocking than they had realised, but since Murtagh had not been placed under any sort of guard there was no need for panic. There was a general sense of unease about everything, however, and it would likely last until everything had been sorted out.

As night fell Ilia found herself outside with Luan. She had been curious on a number of levels and she really wanted to talk to Murtagh, but he and Eragon had been surrounded by others and there was no way she was getting through. It was not on purpose that she found herself waiting not far from Eragon's hut, but as the night dragged on and she realised where she was, she figured she might as well wait for him. At the very least, she figured she could ask him if she could talk to his brother.

It was probably around midnight that Eragon appeared, Murtagh at his side. Saphira was sticking to Thorn and they were in behind, though Ilia suspected it was more for the sake of keeping him in line than anything else. The immense size of the dragon still astounded her, and she figured he must have been older than even Saphira.

The two men themselves could not have been more different. Eragon was clean-shaven and well-kept, where Murtagh was hairy and looked like he'd not bathed in years. They were a similar height, but where the former was tall and willowy like an elf the other was broad and thick. There was something similar about their eyes though, and Ilia couldn't discern whether that was because they really did share some of the same features or if it was just something in their gazes because they had seen the same horrors.

"Ilia? What are you doing here?" Eragon asked. She wasn't hiding, and it wasn't easy for Luan to do that at night anyways. In the day time his scales were brilliant, but at night time he practically glowed. The iridescent colour of his scales reflected the phases of the moon, and since tonight it was full he was not difficult to spot.

For the first time since coming here, Ilia found that she was nervous. "I, well, I was just out here thinking and then I decided I would wait for you," she stated.

This struck Eragon as odd; she'd never done anything like that before. "For what purpose?" he asked.

"I was actually hoping I could ask Murtagh something, since he comes from the east," she stated, her gaze dropping.

Understanding flooded Eragon, and he nodded. If there was one thing that could unsettle this woman, it was her past.

Ilia took the silence as permission. "My name is Ilia de Montagne. My father was Samuel de Montagne and his estate was near Auvergne, tucked against the mountains. I was betrothed to the youngest son of the Dubois family, who are influential in the region," she explained. Eragon listened with interest; he'd never heard her say these things before. She had also never mentioned anything about her betrothal, but he had suspected some sort of lover in her past.

Murtagh did not show any recognition at hearing the names. "What is your question?" he asked. Generally the people in the east stayed there. They were very different, even down to their language and culture, despite being part of the Empire. Galbatorix had left it relatively untouched, though Murtagh knew that his reign would have gotten there eventually.

"I...I was just wondering if you knew of the estate. All of those people are dead, but..." she trailed off, as Murtagh did not appear to look like he knew anything about it. She was desperate though, and she decided to give more. "It was attacked, four, almost five years ago now. Urgals, initially, but then imperial soldiers. The estate was razed to the ground, I believe, but the village. I'm not sure what happened, if there's people there still, or...or if anyone's returned."

Murtagh looked pensive for a moment, before nodding his head. "I may know of what you speak. I recall hearing of a band of soldiers that decimated an urgal tribe as punishment for raiding a human's estate. Imperial soldier aren't well trusted in the east, but no one challenged them. As far as I know it's all gone, and anyone that survived dispersed. At least, that's what seems to have happened in other places. It could be different."

The explanation seemed sound enough, however, and Ilia nodded and mustered a smile, though it was sad. "Thank you," she said, and turned towards Luan to take to the skies.

"Ilia, wait," called Eragon, stopping her. He turned towards Murtagh, weighing up his options. "Go inside, and don't leave. I won't be long."

"Still don't trust me?" Murtagh asked, though there was some amusement in his tone.

"I haven't made up my mind about you yet," he said. Eragon had made many rash decisions on account of this man, and he didn't want to make another.

Shrugging his shoulders, Murtagh did what he was told and disappeared into the hut.

Once his brother was inside, Eragon turned to the woman. "Are you alright?" he asked softly.

Tears had formed in Ilia's eyes and had begun rolling down her cheeks. "Yes, I mean, I will be. I just...I'm not sure why I'm crying. I didn't think I would. I don't even know why I asked him. I've never wanted to know anything about my home."

Eragon nodded in understanding. "Sometimes hope has a funny way of sneaking up like that," he told her.

Swallowing thickly she shook her head and wiped her tears. "No, I didn't hope. Not really. Maybe I feel a bit relieved, even, because then I can't feel guilty for abandoning them. It's just been so long since I've even thought about them."

A soft smile crossed Eragon's lips, and Ilia couldn't help but think that he looked incredibly handsome when he smiled. It was a smile of understanding, as if he wasn't just sympathetic to her cause but empathetic towards it as well. Perhaps he had even been there himself. "Closure is a wonderful thing, when you're ready for it."

Sniffing again and drawing in a deep breath, Ilia nodded. Closure was not something she would have ever imagined she'd have. "You have interesting family," she commented, changing the subject.

Eragon snorted. "You don't even know the half of it," he told her.

Her gaze drifted to Thorn, who appeared to be now resting next to Saphira. "How old is he? I've never seen a dragon of that size. He looks much older than Saphira," she commented.

A sad look crossed Eragon's face as he followed her gaze with his own. "He's younger, actually, though not by a lot. His growth was artificially accelerated by Galbatorix when he had a stash of eldunarya at his disposal. I don't know that his mind and body have ever fully connected because of it." There was a soft sound from where the dragons were resting; Thorn was listening. "He's a lovely dragon, however he is no match for my Saphira."

The ruby head was lifted, and Thorn looked at the humans with a condescending gaze. 'I was informed not to harm my elders,' he told them. Ilia was surprised at the deep sound of his voice; she thought she would like to hear him speak more.

This comment earned a snap from Saphira, which in turn had Thorn reciprocating the favour. There was only a light tussle before they sorted themselves out.

Sighing, Eragon shook his head, but he refrained from commenting in case he made things worse.

It was late enough, then, and Ilia decided it was time to go to bed. "Goodnight, Eragon," she said, and this time instead of heading to Luan she returned to her barracks. Maybe she really had come far, if she didn't need to go flying to escape her emotions.

"Goodnight, Ilia," he returned, before disappearing into his cabin.

Calmer of the Storm: Right! There you have it, maybe Murtagh's not as bad as we thought. Or maybe he's being cunning.

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