Rune awoke to pain. Her body felt red and hot and itchy. Her head pounded. She couldn't see anything. She felt sick to her stomach. Her rolled over and vomited over the side of the bed. She shivered, but she wasn't cold. Thoughts felt funny and hard to string together. Where was she? Where was Súndavar?

Finally she sunk into dark relief.

ooooooooooooooooooo

Angela frowned. "She woke up earlier. Only for a minute. Lovely girl, isn't she? How's her friend?"

"He refuses to eat, sleep—even drink," Eragon answered, shaking his head. "It's been three days, Angela. Can't you tell if she's going to make it? Any longer and he's going to kill himself."

"Her wounds are healing rather well, considering their origin. But I can't promise anything."

Eragon sighed. He hadn't even been able to get a name out of the boy. The girl's was presumably Rune, but no one could tell him who she was or where she had came from. No one he had asked had seen her before. "Tell me if anything changes, will you?"

Angela smiled kindly. "But of course. See if you can't get anything more from the boy, won't you?"

Eragon nodded, leaving the herbalist in peace to tend to her charge.

He found the boy in his chambers in the castle, sitting on the bed and staring off into space. His blood-colored eyes were blank and empty. He didn't turn at the sound of the door.

Eragon sat down next to him. "Hello."

"Is she dead?"

Eragon raised his eyebrows. What sort of greeting—but he let it go. At least he had gotten the boy to talk, which was more than he had succeeded in before. "No. She's not."

The boy blinked, but remained silent.

"You could see her, if you want," Eragon pressed, wanting to get him talking again.

"Why? She's just going to die in the end, isn't she? What's the point of going to see her?" his voice was flat, but Eragon picked up great, deep despair held in it, almost hidden completely.

"We don't know that."

"She will," the boy said with certainty. "That's how it always ends. They say they'll always be there, and then you wake up and they're gone."

Eragon looked at his hands. What had happened in this boy's past, to make him so sad, so hopeless?

"What's your name?"

"Empty Hearted Shadow," he whispered. "It's what I've become. My father was right to name me such."

Eragon grabbed his forearm, suddenly and unexplainably wrathful. "Listen, okay? I want to help. But I can't, not with your griping and stupid riddles. I'm doing everything I can, but you need to try too."

The boy blinked, then opened his eyes. Eragon was startled to find them not red, but a dark green. The boy brought a hand to his forehead, confused. "What…what just happened?"

Eragon let go of him, speechless. "I…I don't know."

"I was talking," he said, frowning, "But it wasn't…me. I couldn't control my words. Like…"

"Like what?"

He shook his head. "Nothing," he said, just a bit too quickly. He extended a hand to Eragon. "I'm Súndavar Eddyrheart."

oooooooooooooooooooo

"And then they were green!"

Angela stared at him, a dark expression on her face. "Are you sure? That's exactly what happened?"

Eragon nodded, looking discreetly into the room where Súndavar was talking quietly to Rune. Since his 'Awakening', as Eragon now called it, he had been fine. Completely normal, with no traces of the dark thing he had been just a few hours ago.

Angela began to pace, murmuring things to herself.

"What's wrong with him?" Eragon asked, "What was it that happened?"

Angela ignored the question, asking her own instead. "Eragon, do you know what makes a Shade a Shade?"

"He allows spirits to control him."

"And do you know what spirits are?"

Spirits? Eragon had always thought they were dead people, like ghosts. But what Oromis had told him about death while he was in Ellesméra made him second think that answer. After a moment of pondering, he shrugged. "No."

Angela nodded slowly. "Spirits live all around us. They are alive, and they have will, but not a consciousness. They are the elements personified. A spirit is part of a bigger picture. They can act as one, or as a whole with others of their type. Water, earth, fire, wind, and shadow, those are the types."

She looked at Eragon to make sure he was following. "So, you see a man—or woman—becomes a Shade when he allows his body to be taken over by these spirits. In particular, by Spirits of Shadow. Some are more susceptible to their control, others less. This susceptibility is often determined by heritage."

"You mean he's a Shade?" Eragon asked, taking another glimpse of the boy. He didn't look like a Shade…

Angela laughed. "Him? Oh, no. Spirits of Shadow feed on feelings of wrath, sadness, fear, hatred. His despair in mourning his friend most likely summoned them. He momentarily lost control."

"But other people feel angry and sad all the time," Eragon protested.

"True. But as I said, some are more easily swayed."

Eragon bit his lip. "So, if it's determined by heritage, and he's susceptible to control, that must mean…"

Angela grinned. "You've finally got it! While you're a Shade slayer, that boy in there is a Shade's son."

Eragon frowned, unsure how this affected everything. Was he evil? What about his friend? Would they both have to be evicted? He voiced his concerns to Angela.

"No, of course not!" she snipped, appalled at the idea. "He's not a Shade, Eragon, he's the son of one. Most likely part elf as well, from his appearance. Would you like to be thrown out because you're the son of Morzan?"

It was as if Angela had slapped him. Didn't she understand he was still sensitive about that? "No," he admitted, trying to control his voice so he didn't sound like a whining child. "No, I see your point."

Súndavar poked his head out the door. His eyes were sad. "I can't get her to wake up."

Angela batted him aside. "Is that what you've been trying to do? You haven't shaken her, have you? Of course she's not going to wake up!"

The healer didn't look at them again, rather started throwing mushrooms and herbs into a pot. She began mixing them with a ferocity that told Eragon it was time to leave. When Angela got into a fit, it was best to be somewhere else.

"Come on, Súndavar. You've got to be hungry."

Súndavar nodded. He hadn't eaten in three days. "Yes, Argetlam."

They went to the castle kitchens, where the cook was happy to allow them first taste of his marvelous concoction. Súndavar attacked the mutton the instant it was put in front of him.

Captain Shay joined them a few minutes later, after the third piece of meat had disappeared into Súndavar's mouth. She raised her eyebrows. "Made a friend, have you Eragon?"

"Súndavar, this is Captain Shay of King Orrin's Elite. Shay, Súndavar Eddyrheart."

"A pleasure, I'm sure," Shay said with a smile. "Welcome to Aberon, Súndavar."

Súndavar grinned, finally finished his inhalation of food. "Likewise, Captain. A pleasure."

"How fares the girl?" Shay asked Eragon, having heard about the mystery girl sleeping in the witch's chambers.

"Rune is fine," Súndavar answered before Eragon could open his mouth. "Her wounds are healing."

Eragon cleared his throat, a clear sign for the boy to shut his mouth. "She's progressing well, but Angela knows nothing for sure."

Shay nodded sadly. "If only we knew who she was. Does she have parents?"

Eragon turned to Súndavar. The boy shrugged. "I met her at the slave market in Melian. We haven't talked about what happened before. She seems content to live in the present, rather than dig at old wounds."

"So you have no idea where she might have come from?"

Súndavar narrowed his eyes. "Even if I did, Shadeslayer, I wouldn't betray her secrets. All the same, all I know is that she was headed to the Varden. She invited me to join her."

Eragon sighed. "Alright. Come, Súndavar. I'll take you back to your quarters."

"I'm perfectly capable of finding them myself," Súndavar snapped. He got up and left the room.

"What's up with him?" asked the Captain, letting her hair out of its short ponytail.

Eragon shivered. "That boy is the son of a Shade."

Shay blinked. "Eragon, don't hold it—"

"I don't!" Eragon snapped, too hastily. Shay read the lie in his eyes.

"You shouldn't judge people like that, Eragon," she said, narrowing her eyes at him. "You of all people should know that."

She left the room in a huff, Eragon staring bewilderedly after her. What had he said?

Author's Note: Hi everyone. I've had some people asking about a possible relationship between Eragon and Captain Shay. Unfortunately, I have other plans for Eragon. Just wanted to give all you hopeless romantics out therea heads up, so you aren't too heartbroken.