A/N: So, it's about this time that I decided to use (if I may steal Hal's words) a bit of "creative improvisation" with the groundwork Paolini laid regarding magic. Of course, none of this is canon. But there were things that were left open and so I decided to use that grey space (*cough* foreshadowing pun intended) in the story. Hope you enjoy. And as always, thank you for reading!

Murtagh awoke with a start. His breathing felt labored, weak. He barely registered the tears on his cheeks from a dream he would rather forget. Invidia watched him carefully but looked away as if she couldn't even be bothered. Murtagh gritted his teeth, feeling more clear-headed than he had before.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"A couple of hours, maybe more," she said in a clipped tone. "Do you think you are ready to approach this situation with a more level head?"

He nodded stiffly.

"Good, because the spirit has returned and is offering a way out. Blödhgarm is talking with it now."

Murtagh blinked and spun around. The blue elf was, indeed, talking with the spirit, but his lips were not moving. It was exactly as Hal had looked communicating with them.

His chest tightened.

As Blödhgarm turned around, his eyes widened. "Shur'tugal, you are awake. Perfect timing. I think the spirit here has explained what it could about our situation. It has offered to help us escape. There may yet still be time so that we may rescue Hal before it is too late."

Murtagh climbed to his feet, bracing himself against the wall, fighting against the wave of light-headedness that engulfed him. He was such an idiot. Invidia was right. He had wasted energy and breath trying to escape. But regardless, he would rescue Hal. He would bring her home, alive.

"How do we know we can trust it?" Invidia asked, looking pointedly at the spirit with doubt and, Murtagh noticed with surprise, a hint of loathing. "It is because of the spirit that Halen sought to flee in the first place."

"It was doing what it thought best at the time," Blödhgarm explained gently. "Hal knew the risks. She made her choice."

"A choice that should not have been offered to her in the first place!"

Murtagh breathed with realization as the concern etched itself in Invidia's rage. So, she also had come to care for Hal.

"Regardless of what we were facing, we were stronger together," Invidia continued. "As far as I'm concerned, the spirits gave the Shade exactly what it wanted. And if anything happens to that child because of this —"

The spirit suddenly disappeared. Murtagh shouted in disbelief and Blödhgarm stared in surprise. But before anyone could figure out if Invidia had scared it away or if something had happened to it, the cavern changed. It was almost as if they had been transported out of the cave entirely, but Murtagh knew by his labored breathing and lack of wind that where they were standing was merely an image.

And he sucked in his breath in disbelief.

Not an image. A memory.

Murtagh recognized Hal and, at ten-years-old, she was an apt likeness to how Eragon described her. Her curls were wilder, hanging around her round cheeks and wide eyes, so full of life and innocence. It was before the death of her village, that much was obvious. And Murtagh's heart ached at the future that awaited the girl of this memory.

But she was crying.

Her sobs were that of sadness, not fear or regret. Exactly as how Eragon had seen her in his dreams.

Murtagh felt the world tilt in understanding.

"You were the one reaching out to Eragon," Murtagh stated, glancing around wondering where the spirit had gone to. "You sent him those dreams." Invidia and Blödhgarm turned their heads to look at him. Murtagh crept closer to the small version of Hal, looking over her shoulder to see what had upset her so.

A dead baby bird, its wing broken from falling from the nest too soon. So she had never actually been in danger. At least, not in the dream, anyway.

"Come now, my love, do not cry," a voice said. Murtagh stepped back as a woman appeared in the memory, standing behind Hal and wrapping her arms around the child's body. The woman was unbelievably beautiful. Her dark hair fell down her back, the curls much softer and tame compared to Hal's. Her eyes were a little narrower, the brown irises full of nothing but love and tenderness. But in her, Murtagh could see the same nose and mouth that Hal had now. The same shape of her face. No wonder Hal was as beautiful as she was.

She was a spitting likeness of her mother.

"But it's dead," Hal whimpered, hiding her face in her hands. "I can't save it."

"Why are you showing us this?" Murtagh asked, and the image faded completely, the darkness of the cave returning.

"Because the spirit wants us to know why we can trust it," Blödhgarm said with a pained and stunned expression. "Although I've never heard of such a thing before —"

"Heard of what?"

"Shur'tugal," Invidia said calmly, "what else did you see in that memory?"

He shook his head. "There was nothing, just the woods surrounding them. Nothing and no one."

"Then that memory could have only come from one person. And we know it wasn't Halen."

Murtagh shook his head. "That's impossible. Hal said her family was dead. Killed."

"And it would seem," Blödhgarm said slowly, as they all turned to face that spirit, "that her mother found another way to survive."

It made sense. Everything made sense. Why the spirit seemed too fixated on Hal, protecting her endlessly. Yet Murtagh couldn't fathom it. His head started to throb.

"Hal said she saw her mother die," he whispered, trying to rationalize this strange turn of events. "I've never heard of a human becoming a spirit."

"Unless they are not wholly human," Blödhgarm countered, still gazing at the spirit with much more interest than before. "But that is for another time. Spirit, will you get us out of here so that we can rescue Hal."

As if in response, the light from the spirit began to brighten. Murtagh blinked, then threw his hands up to shield his eyes as the light began to burn even brighter and hotter. There was a beam, wide and powerful, emanating magic similar to what he had felt that night after they had rescued Hal. Just like she had said. He wondered if Hal had begun to suspect at all, why the spirit was so keen on helping her.

When the light faded and he was able to look again, he was surprised to see that the spirit had burned a hole right through the ceiling. He could just make out the top, but it was still a long climb. He hadn't even realized how far underground they had been. The only way they would even be able to make it to the top was with the help of —

A familiar and comforting roar sounded up ahead. Apparently, the spirit was one step ahead of them.

Thorn only barely fit. The spirit found me and explained what happened, he began as he landed on the cave floor, forcing Murtagh, Blödhgarm, and Invidia to back up against the wall in order to accommodate him. He hadn't been able to fly, but rather climbed slowly downward, his claws sinking into the stone and rock. But he had still made it. We must hurry.

They each climbed up, gripping the strong spikes that stuck out of his neck and pressing themselves as tightly against his body as they could. The climb back out felt like it would take forever, dangling precariously off the side of a dragon. But as they neared the top, Murtagh was relieved to fill his lungs with proper air, although the light from the afternoon sun burned his eyes.

Everyone was trying to catch their breaths and clear their minds. Fresh air had never tasted so sweet.

I do not understand one thing though, Thorn began, projecting his thoughts into the mind of Murtagh as well as the elves. If the spirit could trap the Ra'zac and get you out, why separate Halen from us?

"Because apparently, Halen entering the cave set off some kind of magical trap," Blödhgarm explained. "Magic that would not have allowed her to leave the cave. And by extension, us as well, if she had remained."

Murtagh should have known. Tears burned his eyes as he thought of Hal wandering those tunnels on her own. Of course, she had done it as a sacrifice. Why did Hal do anything except so that others may be kept safe?

I love you, Murtagh Morzansson.

She had said it for the same reason he had not wanted to say it before entering the cave. Every time he heard it in his head, he realized that she must've thought she may never see him again. That if she were to die, she'd want him to know.

And it was for that very same reason that he had kept his mouth shut.

He had foolishly believed they would return to the surface together. And he would tell her afterwards, when things felt less stressful. When she was relaxed. They would return to the village and get cleaned up, anxious now that they knew about the Ra'zac, but better with more information and insight. They would make plans to come up with a plan, but for now, they would maintain their wards and get some rest. He would pull her aside, asking if they could talk at their usual spot. They would walk in silence, each nervous for different reasons. But his would be tinged with excitement, expectation even, as he watched her carefully. She would try and smile at him, to show she was not concerned. When they arrived, he would've paced for a bit, stumbled over himself trying to explain to her what he had explained to Denu. How happy these last few months had made him, how much better of a man he had become just by being near her. And he wanted to continue to grow into someone fit to stand by her side. That he even liked the man he was becoming because of her companionship.

But it wasn't enough for him anymore.

Even as they were now, it wasn't enough. He would tell her how he didn't just want to be with her when no one was around. He wanted to hold her hand when they were with their friends. Kiss her in full view of the villagers simply because he wanted to. He wanted to do everything in his power to make her the happiest woman in the world.

Because he loved her.

There, he said it. And he would watch her face, her eyes full of shock at the confession. She would already be crying, he knew. She got sentimental easily, and the sight would warm his heart. And she would burst into tears when he finally said what he had been meaning to say. She would call him an ass for scaring her, but he would smile with joy and relief when she pulled him down for a kiss that would make his head spin. And she would whisper against his lips the same words.

I love you, Murtagh Morzansson.

That's how it was supposed to be. Did he not even deserve that much? Was he simply meant to lose Hal too?

We have not lost her yet! Thorn snapped, pulling him out of fantasy. We will find her. And we will skin any Ra'zac or Shade that dares stand in our way.

But what if we're too late? The thought was crippling in his fright.

We will not be if we hurry. Halen could only get so far on foot, right? Where would she have gone?

And Murtagh looked at the spirit, who seemed to be watching him almost carefully. He realized then that there was more at stake here than he realized, but he wasn't quite sure how yet.

Back where it all began, he said slowly, thinking of what she had told them earlier. She's going to Uden.

Then let's go after her. You still have to tell her how you feel, after all.

Murtagh rose to his feet, fear and determination gripping him. But Thorn's words buried themselves deep within. Yes. He would bring Hal back, because he needed her. Because her village needed her. Because he loved her.

And he would make sure she heard him.

…

"You can't be serious," Invidia hissed as Murtagh finished relaying his plan to them.

"I'm hardly anything but," Murtagh responded coolly. "Hal is on Uden, and the quickest way there is on Thorn. He will fly faster with just me."

"We're talking about a Shade and the Ra'zac, Shur'tugal. You can't honestly expect that we would let you go in alone!"

"You have to," he said, maintaining calm. "You know I am right. And with everything going on, it is more pressing than before that you both return to the village as soon as you are able. We cannot take any risks."

"The very nature of your plan is a giant risk! If anything happens to you and Thorn under our protection —"

"You will simply have to have faith that nothing will."

"Blödhgarm, will please talk some sense into him?!"

Murtagh looked at the other elf, who had remained largely silent. Blödhgarm studied him carefully, as though sizing him up. They were wasting time standing around.

"You are not the man you were five years ago, Shur'tugal," Blödhgarm told him with a faint smile full of sharp teeth. "I noticed that almost the moment I laid eyes on you." He stepped closer, his arms crossed and his smile fading into something serious and no-nonsense. "You know what is at stake if you fail. And regardless of the outcome, you must maintain your sense of self. Above all else, remember who you are and what you are fighting to protect. Many have lost themselves entirely when something they love is taken from them."

Murtagh's jaw tightened. He did not want to think about what would happen if he failed. He did not want to imagine the worse-case scenario. He needed Hal to be alive. But he also knew why Blödhgarm was even telling him this in the first place. The man he would become if he lost Hal is not a man she would be proud of. The elf was trying to prepare him, although Murtagh wished he wouldn't.

"I will try and send word as soon as I am able," he said instead. "If you do not hear from me within three days…"

Blödhgarm nodded while Invidia threw her hands up contempt and exasperation. "Enough of this foolishness," she snapped. "I am coming with you and Blödhgarm will return to the village. You need support, at least someone to take on the Shade if you are preoccupied with Hal. Time is of the essence but I cannot, in good conscious, allow you to go alone."

"You are delaying my efforts by arguing the matter —" Murtagh began.

"Above all else, the world needs the Dragon Riders. You and Thorn need to survive. Let me lend you my magic and my strength."

"Fine!" Murtagh shouted, feeling like he was arguing with Hal. "Fine, you can come. But we do as I say, all right?"

Invidia nodded, immediately complacent as she walked over to Thorn, who was chuckling at Murtagh's irritation.

Relax. I can still fly fast with just two. And she is right: it does not hurt to have back-up.

Oh, don't start.

Murtagh and Invidia scrambled onto Thorn's back, Invidia sitting behind him, her face set. He looked up at the sun. He wasn't quite sure of the distance between the islands, but it should not take Thorn long with his speed.

Blödhgarm raised a hand in farewell, his smile kind but otherwise unreadable. Murtagh could not tell whether the elf had hope or fear for them. And because of this, he took comfort in the neutral expression. "Atra du evarínya ono varda, Shur'tugal, un sé onr sverdar sitja hvass!"

Thorn took off towards the skies, following behind the spirit who would lead them to Hal.

…

Hal backed away from the Shade slowly, a new kind of fear taking root. "You're mad," she whispered, horrified. "You can't do this. I don't want to be like you."

"I didn't wish for this either," the Shade said casually. "But now that I exist, I realize the benefits of my strength and power. As will you, after you have turned."

"I'd rather die."

The Shade sneered. "You think you can defy me so easily? You think I will not send an army of Ra'zac to that desolate island of yours to lay waste to every living creature on it? You think I will not make you watch as it burns. I know who you are, Halen Zarasdaughter. I would think you had enough blood on your hands after letting your precious Sani village get laid to waste."

Hal froze in shock, tears filling her eyes at the accusation. "How did you —?"

"I was there that day," the Shade hissed, something like pain crossing its features briefly before rage and hatred returned. "I saw the bodies burn and the heads roll, just as you did."

Hal couldn't process what she was hearing. "You escaped?" she breathed.

"Barely. My father gave his life to protect me. That's when my magic first appeared — destroying the soldiers who killed him. I fled, but was eventually found by the person who would become my master, who knew who and what I was. They turned me not five years ago. And I have sought to carry out their mission ever since."

"Were there others?" Hal blurted. The Shade looked at her. "Please, tell me, did others survive? Did you know Daniel Gerosson or Thea Zarasdaughter? Do you know if they made it out?"

The Shade seemed to sway slightly, and it cracked its neck as if trying to maintain a hold on its composure. "It has been a while since I have heard that name."

Hal swallowed. "Please tell me."

The Shade studied her carefully. "Your father was brave. He felled many soldiers trying to protect your sister." Hal felt tears fill her eyes. Please no. "But it was because of his bravery that they saw fit to torture him for his actions. The soldier who ratted you out to his commander gave explicit detail of what was done to his wife before you interfered."

Hal let out a cry of pain.

"He was then beaten until he was hardly recognizable."

She didn't want to hear anymore.

The Shade kneeled down and gripped Hal's chin, forcing her gaze up. Hal felt sick as she looked into the Shade's eyes, wide with madness. And…a single tear rolled down its cheek. "Do not cry. I made sure his death was not in vain. I made sure those soldiers suffered slowly for what they did our father."

Hal stopped crying. She stopped breathing. She just stared, unsure if she had heard correctly.

Then, her rage moved through her quickly, and Hal let out a scream as she felt her magic take over without waiting for her instruction. The Shade was hurled backwards, hitting the ground with deranged laughter. The Ra'zac ran towards Hal and she yanked out the hand-and-a-half sword, dodging its initial attack before striking back with one of her own, digging her blade into its chest.

With the Ra'zac down, Hal turned to the Shade. "You lie!"

The Shade continued to laugh, delighted and mad. "You cannot accept the truth even when you ask for it. But why on earth would I lie to you, my darling sister." And then, to Hal's horror, she repeated everything in the Ancient Language.

"Your use of the language proves nothing," Hal spat. "Except that you believe your own lies."

"Believe me or don't —"

"I don't!"

"— it does not change your fate."

Hal wasn't sure how she knew what to do, but instinct kicked in as she shouted, "Skölir!"

Her shield went up just in time, whatever magic the Shade had thrown at her hitting it with such force that the air around them shifted, strong with the scent of magic. Hal gritted her teeth, throwing out her hands as if her physical strength, combined with her magic, would be enough to make sure the shield held.

"You power is weakened by the Ancient Language!" the Shade screamed over the howling noise of magic and wind in the air. "You cannot hope to best me when all of the knowledge instilled within you in inherently inferior."

Hal refused to listen. She had to focus her energy on her shields. She could not release her magic before the Shade did. She would be annihilated.

Just then, something cackled, like lightening, and Hal and the Shade both went slack with surprise as the magic exploded around them.

…

Did you feel that?! Thorn asked, projecting into both Invidia and Murtagh's minds.

Aye, Murtagh said, swallowing thickly. I recognize part of it as Hal's magic. It is similar to when she was being tortured by the Ra'zac, the feel of it. But this is more controlled. She must be fighting with it.

The Shade, no doubt, Invidia commented, her grip tightening on Murtagh's hip. As long as she is fighting…

Murtagh couldn't agree more.

…

Hal woke up staring at the sky, her ears ringing.

Then she remembered.

She scrambled to her feet, but the Shade was already up and waiting. It grinned. Her arms and legs snapped together as if she were standing at attention, and she fell back to the ground, wincing at the impact. She couldn't move, just like when she had been in the tent in Berjis' village. She tried using magic of her own, but nothing worked.

"Did you know there was magic that predated that of the Ancient Language?" the Shade commented, coming to stand beside Hal, who was continuing to writhe on the ground in hopes of finding a way out of her magical binds. "The magic that flows through Alagaësia itself, gives it life and meaning and purpose. And the only people truly able to tap into this magic were so ancient, that they do not even exist in rumor or legend like the Grey Folk do. You've always felt it, Halen. Even when you were a child — your love of nature was no coincidence. Your very soul cried out to the magic of the world. Thrived in it. Found peace in it.

"When the other races were created and came to inhabit Alagaësia, we injected ourselves amongst them. The Grey Folk shared their language, the Ancient Language, with us so that we may communicate with them, and we, in turn, shared our magic with them.

"But the Grey Folk became greedy and foolish. They did not realize the very nature of what we had given them. The gift we had chosen to share with them. They nearly destroyed everything. When they tied our magic to their language, our powers became dormant. Somehow, the spell locked us away from our magic, and our people fell into despair and ruin.

"But we did not know about their loophole. We did not know about the Name of Names. As our people lived on, generation, after generation, the magic became forgotten. And eventually, it faded from memory, along with everything else.

"But then you happened, Halen Zarasdaughter. Not only did you show an affinity for magic when you killed the soldier, but it was as though you had awakened inside of us what we had long forgotten. But of course, by then, it was too late."

Hal forgot to struggle. Forgot to think. Forgot to breathe. So enraptured she was by the Shade's story, her heart beating in her chest as though in response. A single tear ran down her cheek, for even without the use of the Ancient Language, Hal somehow knew the Shade was telling the truth.

"Do you remember this hilltop?" the Shade asked. "Do you remember all the times you brought me here? How I would clamor after you, breathless?"

"Thea, please don't do this," she said, fighting back tears. "I know you're still in there. Let me help you. Let us fight this."

"Oh, so now I am Thea? You do not think me a liar?"

But something in the Shade's expression faltered for a moment, and once again, Hal thought of the tiny soul that she had felt inside that head raging of war and bloodlust. It was to that soul Hal needed to talk to, but it was so hard with so many other dominant ones controlling the body.

As the light began to fade, torches came to life around them. Hal wasn't sure how she had missed them, but they cast an eerie glow. Hal struggled with her bonds, but she was still exhausted and shaken by the revelations of her lineage. Of her sister. She couldn't focus. And she began to cry in fear of her fate.

"Thea, please!"

"That may be my name, but your sister is no more. And when I am done with you, Halen as you know her will cease to exist as well."

Thea — no, the Shade — closed her eyes and began to whisper. Her lips moved quickly, almost unnatural as her outstretched hand hung menacingly over Hal, her ring twinkling in the fading sunlight. The words sounded nothing like the Ancient Language. It sounded thicker and darker. Older. At first, nothing happened. And Hal was shaking as her eyes roamed her surroundings, unsure of what she expected to see.

She felt something seize her heart, the same pain she had felt in her dream. The same pain she had felt as she walked closer to Uden. She should have never stepped foot on this island. Had she known — had she even fathomed that this was what the Shade had in store for her…

Hal let out a scream, her chest feeling like it was being ripped open. The Shade continued to chant, the words echoing around them as if the very air was responding to them. It became stiff and thick, the hair on Hal's arm standing on end as dark energy filled the air.

Hal could see the Shade frowning, fighting to hold on to the magic as spirits began to come forth. The same spirits that had helped Hal only moments before. Hal's heart cried out at the betrayal. She had been a fool to trust them.

But minutes began to tick by. The Shade began to shake with exertion, mumbling faster. Hal blinked as the spirits fought against the Shade's magic, pulling away while the Shade tried to pull them down.

Unwilling.

The spirits were unwilling.

There was a panicked roar and Hal's eyes widened as Thorn appeared, crashing through the trees and heading straight for the Shade with his jaw wide open.

From the other side of the cliff, a Lethrblaka appeared and lunged towards Thorn, defending the Shade who hadn't even broken its concentration. As if it had been waiting, expecting. Hal only had a moment to glance, her eyes finding Murtagh's, whose were wide with fear for her.

But whatever magic or fight the spirits had been using to fight the Shade weakened. And his face was the last thing she saw as the souls began to descend.