BRISINGR V

THE BATTLE FOR GILLENDEL

HE could hear the screams from the beasts while they pounded on magical barriers that surrounded the pale metropolis. Fires glowed in the night in the far distance, akin to fallen suns sinking between green hills. Above, black clouds gathered and churned with wicked ferocity. White particles alighted from the heavens, illuminated by periodic strikes of lighting that gave them the appearance of stars that had forsaken their lofty thrones from on high.

It won't be long now, Saphira said, worry painting her thoughts. Eragon turned his head slightly to face her. Looking at her now, it was hard to imagine how small she had been before. He often thought back on that day. Would he have preferred to continue to live in ignorance? Would he have wanted to never hatched Saphira? It wasn't a question that he could easily answer.

"You are ready. We both are." Eragon touched Saphira's wing softly with an armored hand, as she nestled the side of her snout against his head. They stood on the high hills of Gillendel, the city resting below. Despite the horror outside, the marble towers and stone roads almost looked serene, the only thing betraying the Sealed Elf offensive were the rows of citizens who were being guided to safety by the Elven Army, and some of Orik's dwarib guard.

Another crash howled from above, and Eragon's eyes raised to the curving dome of the Laen Elf barrier. It flickered in momentary weakness as cracks began to web across its curving descent.

Arya, Eragon thought briefly before pushing her face out of his mind. He didn't have time for selfish desires- but he couldn't help himself but think of the time that they had spent together. He knew that she acted only because she believed that today was the day that they would die. The howls from beyond reached a new, deafening crescendo that buffeted Eragon's thoughts. He drifted his hand to the hilt of his sword, palm resting atop the jutting pommel.

Saphira, is it normal to be this afraid? Eragon asked her within their shared mind. He instantly felt Saphira's reassuring presence wash over him like a wave of cool water.

If you were not afraid, it would mean you no longer had anything to fear to lose. Remember your fear, and use it to compel yourself to protect the ones you care for.

Courage welled within him, spurred by Saphira's words.

I refuse to let anyone else die.

Eragon heard the plodding of hooves behind him. With a quick turn, he saw a white horse galloping towards him, descending from the rolling hills that lead down to where he stood, and further, Gillendel. The rider wore a silver cape, and a shining crown rested on her head. Two horns sprouted from the band, curling upwards as they accented her pointed ears. Black hair, normally worn down, was tied into a braid that coiled across a long and slender neck and down to her breast. The armor she wore seemed to shine despite the darkness above, and as she grew closer, Eragon could make out the stern tightness of her face, a cruel beauty that belayed no inkling of love or compassion.

And so she comes, Saphira said with slight humor. Eragon bowed his head slightly as Arya guided her horse to a plodding halt a few feet away from them. Her eyes passed over Eragon with an icy gaze.

"Eragon," She said with courtly politeness.

"Arya," He returned. The Elf offered no smile, no friendly reciprocation.

"Our defenses are failing faster than anticipated. The mages maintaining the barrier cannot reinforce as quickly as the Sealed destroy."

Eragon frowned at the matter-of-factly tone that Arya spoke in.

These are your people, this is your kingdom he wanted to shout to her. But he knew better- for Arya, this was a defense mechanism. Eragon could see how her eyes focused on him, he could see how her hands tightly gripped the reigns of her palfrey. He saw the paleness of her skin, the haunting glow of her green eyes.

Arya was more afraid than he was.

"Has Islanzadi decided her course of action?" Eragon mirrored Arya's tone. He wanted to tell her that he would protect her, that he would do whatever he could to ensure their victory- but he knew that would only set her barely contained fears ablaze.

"No. She is still conferring with her generals and Oromis." Arya responded coolly.

So Oromis has arrived Eragon thought to himself. The Elf sent him and Arya to Gillendel in advance, so that they could warn and prepare Islanzadi and her army. He longed to speak to Oromis- despite the Elf's racisms, Eragon had learned to see the Laen rider as . . . not a father, never that, but . . something more than a mentor. He almost asked Arya where her uncle was so that Eragon could possibly speak with him before the battle, but he knew better than that.

"If I may, Auesame Arya," Eragon began as Arya raised an eyebrow at his use of elven honorifics.

"The barrier is failing. I.. I know that I was told to wait here until ordered otherwise but.."

Eragon's gaze drifted away from Arya as he turned around to face Gillendel once more. Rows upon rows of small dots marched silently from their gleaming home, the somberness of their procession not dimmed at all by Eragon's distance from it. The elves were lead into narrow tunnels that were drilled under ground, where they could safely wait for the battle to pass.

"Eragon, listen to me." Arya said brusquely with a sudden urgency that caught him off guard. He turned with narrowed eyes as the small suspicions he had felt re-awakened.

Arya's eyes met his, and for a moment their cold facade melted away, revealing the compassion she held for him, and the fear that broiled inside her. But within seconds the shield she gathered about herself reformed, mouth moving without hesitation to form words delivered with no kiss of kindness or sorrow.

"Islanzadi and Oromis have deemed it would be unwise to allow you to fight in this battle." Arya declared. Eragon stared ahead of her, his mind not processing what she said to him.

"That is why I have come to you. You are the last rider that the Varden has, Eragon. They cannot risk your death."

Eragon's hands curled into fists and his jaw clenched in simmering rage.

"So they expect me to wait patiently while everyone risks their own lives?" He asked with uncharacteristic silence. Even Saphira gave off rolling waves of anger and confusion. She turned her gaze to Arya, who sat on her horse plainly, unthreatened while under the glare of a dragon.

Arya, there must be something that we could do to he- Saphira began. Arya raised her hand in polite interruption.

"We cannot lose you here. If there is one thing that must survive, it is you." The elf extended her arm towards Eragon, palm flat against the air.

"I'm sorry," Arya whispered.

Before Eragon or Saphira could protest, their sight vanished, and their ears fell deaf.

Then, there was only the uncertainty of darknesss.