A/N: SORRY GUYS- I've had a weird few months. First- I had a really serious bacterial stomach infection that lasted from early October to late November. AND THEN- where I live, AT&T (my internet) sold their service to a company called Frontier. I got rid of Frontier, tried to get comcast, only to see that it wasn't available in my area. So that stifled the updates a bit, too. Anyway, I have everything I need now, so if you're all still interested, Brisingr will continue. A few side notes-
To the people who remember, or who are reading this after just finishing Eldest, you might remember I turned Morzan and Co. into women . . . yeah. The plan was to give the scarred woman significance, and to explain how Morzan and his ilk would be able to help the elves. Well, I realize now that it was weird and honestly, I don't feel like trying to explain why they were women or why they were going to turn back blah blah blah- so just forget that happened. Please.
Anywho . . .
BRISINGR
Alauinel closed her eyes, stretching out pale hands over the dark city below her. A red moon hung in the sky, partially obscured by ghastly clouds. She stood atop the citadel of Urubaen, seat of Galbatorix and home of the Forsworn.
But not for long.
She wrinkled her nose as cold wind buffeted it, and gathered her white robes around her body. Dark blue eyes seemed to glow in the night, and her beautiful, static face betrayed the turmoil within.
Morzan has left Urubaen with his sons and their dragons.
She knew what he desired- to help the Laen Elves and the Varden defeat the Sealed, and prevent the resurrection of Golhlobor. After all of her planning, she never believed that Morzan would take such an active stand against Galbatorix. Then again . . .
It is because he knows what you truly want.
Alauinel shook her head. No, that was impossible. He perhaps knew that her desire for Golhlobor was not something as single-minded as the destruction of all things, but he did not know anything beyond that. She smiled, despite the circumstances.
"I will be forced to fight you sooner than I had wished, master." Alauinel said aloud, her voice drifting on the icy air. She reached for a curl of her hair, and coiled it around a finger.
"Caomhim." Alauinel called. From the darkness behind her, a man appeared. He had lost his arm, and in its place a skeletal facsimile of a limb hung. It gave off an evil aura, as such was the nature of all dark magic.
"Yes, Mistress." Caomhim bowed his head.
The man was called Brom once, Alauinel recalled, but she had returned him to his true name when she bound him. Alauinel allowed herself another smile- The Varden; or her mother, had sent the former Forsworn to kill her. Alauinel was almost insulted that they thought a dragonless shadow could even begin to harm her. The smile on the female elf's face grew deeper as she imagined Islanzadi's reaction to her new heights of power.
They will see soon.
"Tell Hossa to begin the preparations." Alauinel commanded. Caomhim bowed again, and slunk back into the ebony shade behind her.
Hossa was not a fighter as much as he was a wizard. She would have preferred to have done this alone, but destroying Galbatorix would be no easy task. She knew why Morzan left without telling his friend; Galbatorix would not believe she would betray them. But after she achieved what she desired with Golhlobor, Galbatorix would be an obstacle, along with the remaining Forsworn.
"Best to cut off the head of the snake . . ." Alauinel raised a hand before her face.
"And bind the rest." Her hand glowed with ancient power, and lit the tower she stood upon like a beacon.
Eragon pressed himself against Saphira as a Letherbalka cawed above him, twirling around in the air with thick leathery wings that stunk with every flap. He gritted his teeth, holding his sword with a fierce grip, while Saphira doubled in speed.
One above, one below. Saphira said grimly. Eragon moved his head to Saphira's side and saw what she spoke of- Another Letherbalka, this one larger and more jagged, rose from the ranks of the advancing Sealed elves to meet them.
Well, this should be chaotic. Eragon responded, and opened his mind to his dragon. He instantly felt his senses go beyond even what his magical prowess or the spirit within his body granted him, felt his skin harden and his fingernails sharpen into blades as fine as dwarven daggers. They shared two bodies, now, a skill that they had developed simply from the time they had spent together.
Saphira spun to the left as the Letherbalka closed in. They narrowly evaded each other, crying deep and guttural cries. Saphira turned upwards in the air, tail trailing after her, wings held close to each side of her body. She was now on a head-on collision with the Letherbalka, each one flying within wing of another.
Eragon, Saphira stated within their mind.
I know, He responded as he lifted his sword. Saphira opened her mouth and a torrent of blue flame sprang forth, and at the same moment Eragon pointed his sword at the Letherbalka, and he pulled his lips back to reveal newly sharped teeth, thanks to his joining with Saphira.
"Brisinya," He growled, and as the word left his tongue, a blade of fire sprang forth from the tip of his sword. It pierced the wing of the smaller Letherbalka as Saphira's fire took the larger. The Letherbalka howled, and Eragon dragged his sword upwards, bringing the arc of fire with it. The smaller Letherbalka screamed as its wing was removed from its body, and it fell below, unable to maintain its position in the air.
Eragon focused on the larger, next. While hurt, it was able to continue to fly, and had doubled around for another pass at Saphira. Its usually pale skin was blackened by smoke and flame, and eyes wide with pain regarded Eragon and Saphira with utmost fury.
This one is stronger. Saphira commented.
Don't try anything too fancy, Eragon cautioned, to which he felt something similar to a laugh come from Saphira.
You can't be the one who has all the fun.
Saphira pressed her wings down against the air, and spurted forward. The Letherbalka mirrored her action, and they were on a collision course again- until Saphira, at the last moment, duck underneath the Letherbalka. Eragon raised his sword and ran it across the Letherbalka's underbelly, splitting it as Saphira's speed increased his cutting power. The creature cried in pain, and Eragon turned around in his saddle to see the Letherbalka fall below. His eyes scanned the battle-
Laen elves, resplendent in golden armor, unleashed torrents upon torrents of arrows at the advancing sealed elves. Those that were not killed by the expert marksmen were cut down by dwarven soldiers brought by the prince, aided in part by the surviving Xoshan tribes, who took numerous bestial forms and tore apart the Sealed with teeth and claw and talon.
With the Letherbalka gone, the Sealed Elf offensive faltered. Saphira flew close to the ground, and unleashed a blast of fire over the enemy ranks, toasting them as they marched. Saphira gained altitude, and Eragon scanned the ground again.
They're fleeing, He commented. The Sealed Elves clambered over one another, attempting to escape death. Saphira re-adjusted her course with a flap of her wings, headed to the command camp that was set up by the Laen Elves. Despite this and other victories, Eragon felt empty, and an imposing doom crept up within him.