Disclaimer: I don't own Eragon, it is the property of Christopher Paolini.

Many thanks to Mercurialists for the edits on this chapter!

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Coughing heavily Eragon woke up with a jerk, and immediately sneezed at the feeling of water in his nose. Coughing out the remaining water in his nose and lungs, he took stock of his situation as he looked around himself with water still dripping into his eyes. The spud of water rushing over stones greeted him first, followed by the absolute silence from the fauna which should have been undoubtedly present in such a place.

'You are awake!' Saphira's joyous voice blasted through his head, causing him to wince at the sudden stabbing pain that flared up. A feeling of embarrassment and a silent apology came from the bond to which he responded by sending thoughts of acceptance and happiness. Pressing his hand to his forehead, Eragon stood up on shaky feet and looked towards his dragoness.

Saphira was nestled in a makeshift shelter formed by a couple of fallen trees, the leaves offering a cool shade to rest for them.

Blinking the water out of his eyes, Eragon walked towards her, wanting to be close to her body heat as soon as possible. Stumbling on a rock, Eragon fell into the creek, only to look in bemusement at the brown covering his clothes.

Running a finger along the wet sleeve of his lower clothes, Eragon frowned and asked 'Saphira, what happened? The last I remember is that we went to rescue the elf where the Shade...By the gods! WHAT HAVE I DONE?'

Memories of Durza's torture, his subsequent submission, the spirits, the Dragons from the gems and finally the carnage he did in Gil'ead immediately flashed in front of his eyes, Eragon immediately felt bile rise up his throat, only for nothing to come out of his stomach except for dry heaves.

'Little one' Saphira said, her mind enveloping in a loving embrace, driving away the depression, hysteria and rapidly growing self-loathing with waves of unconditional love and acceptance. 'Calm down Eragon, you did nothing wrong and I am not going to hate you just because you killed some soldiers.'

'How can you say such things? You didn't experience it Saphira, I butchered them, even the ones who were fleeing from me in clear terror! I sought them out of the nook and crannies they hid in, cutting them down as easily as I breathed air.'

Saphira snarled and pinned him down with her paw, her claws resting dangerously close to his face on either side. Her jaws snapped just shy of his face before she turned her head to look him in the eye. 'Listen to me Eragon! I will not have you demean yourself for killing a few soldiers who would have killed you without remorse and thought. Does a wolf feel remorse for killing a deer? Should I feel self-hatred for all those I have killed since I hatched for you?'

Her voice was full of anger and frustration, but her love and worry for him still bled through their bond. Closing his eyes to stem the tears, Eragon patted the paw and stood up slowly before getting a handle on his emotions, steeling his mind coming a lot easier to him than ever.

"Where are the swords?"

Saphira pawed at the ground between the stones and Eragon knelt there before taking out the two swords he had used. Zar'roc gleamed brightly, the dried blood and pieces of gore sticking to it making it seem even more dangerous. While such a sight would have caused him to vomit once again, the events of last night with his sudden change in thought processes dampened such a reaction. His eyes turned to the other blade, the purple longsword as dirty with his kills as Zar'roc. Mechanically Eragon cleaned the blades in the river with a piece of his shirt, the blades gleaming in the filtering sunlight from the canopy around him.

Sliding them into their scabbards, Eragon ripped off his tunic before throwing it away, the smell of blood and flesh now discernible to him amongst the new sensations he was experiencing. While he had not realized it when he had woken up, Eragon could now see much farther, better and clearer than before, with his hearing also augmented similarly. His body now used to such changes, Eragon walked towards Saphira, the dragoness having hunted a deer from somewhere and currently gorging on it.

"Where are the dragons?" Eragon asked as he sat down with a sigh against Saphira's flank.

`Greetings once again Eragon, I am Obara, the eldest amongst us Eldunari. We thank you many times over for freeing us from that accursed place.'

'Greeting to you too Obara' Eragon thought back slowly 'If it may not be bold of me to ask, what happened to your bodies?'

'That is not bold of you Shur'tugal, but currently, I think you have more pressing matters. Namely your companion and the Elf you had come to rescue. Catching up to them is currently your priority, for Durza would have surely reformed by now, and will bring the full brunt of his anger and armies upon you. It will be wise to put as much distance as possible between Gil'ead and us.'

Nodding wordlessly and sending his assent to the dragon-not-a-dragon, Eragon walked over to Saphira and climbed over the saddle before she leaped into the air. As they swiftly gained altitude, Eragon looked behind himself only to blink in shock when there was not a trace of Gil'ead anywhere behind him with only what was sure to be Ramr RIver and the Hadarac Desert around for leagues. He gazed at Saphira and frowned before speaking

'Saphira, why aren't you tired from all the flying you have done to get us this far from Gil'ead?'

'The Eldunari gave me strength by sharing their energy with me. That is why only Obara was cognizant enough to talk to you. You have been asleep for five days Eragon, I had to hunt this morning so we landed nearby the river. I have caught Murtagh's trail, but the desert winds remove the horse trail and their scents frequently, so I have been delayed in finding them.'

Scratching the joint between her neck and her torso, Eragon looked up ahead at the vast sands of Hadarac desert, his mind conjuring all sorts of fates that could have befallen Murtagh between his escape from the Keep and wherever he was now. The soft movement of Saphira beneath him, and his own tiredness from having no food for days soon caused Eragon to fall asleep, his dreams plagued by crimson eyes and men butchered across the land with Saphira's great yet chained body at the feet of the faceless man with a giant black dragon looming behind him.

Murtagh cursed for the fiftieth time since the morning as he slashed another snake into two, the serpent's golden scales making it nigh impossible to spot and kill in the glittering sand if it weren't for his fast reflexes and the neighing of his horse. Wiping the sweat from his brow lest it stings his eyes, Murtagh looked back at the Elf, the inhumanly beautiful woman slung over the mount and tied to it. She had been unresponsive and in sleep ever since he had taken her to his mount, her breathing silent and movement utterly non-existent for two days now.

His mind also worried for Eragon, the kid having grown on him since he had saved the Dragon rider and him from the Ra'zac. However, he knew that going back for even a yard meant less distance between him and the Empire. The Varden was somewhere in the Beor Mountains and as foolish as the hope was, he could try to ingratiate himself with them, fight against the King and live his life away from the chains in Uru'Baen. If that wouldn't be possible then he would find some cave and live the rest of the days away from the conflict, once again hopefully.

His ponderings on his future were interrupted by a great roar and a large shadow passed over him. Reigning in Tormac's frantic bucking, Murtagh felt a relieved sigh escaped his parched lips when Saphira landed in front of him. She has barely even tucked her wings in before Eragon leaped off her back and ran towards him. If it weren't for the fact that Saphira would have made a morsel out of anyone who had dared to sit upon her, Murtagh would have never known that this was Eragon he was looking at at the first glance.

He had grown in height, standing as tall as Murtagh himself now, with his eyes having turned a deep purple while gaining a slight slit and slanted look. He had paled a little with his hair turning completely black and gaining crimson streaks. His tunic was nowhere to be found with only leggings and a belt around his waist to preserve his skin from the harsh land.

Eragon came to stop in front of him and looked him over carefully with a smile. Looking behind him at Tormac and the Elf his smile dimmed somewhat before he returned his attention to Murtagh and said

"Saphira had a great deal of trouble following your scent and tracks. Hadarac's winds and sands did a good job of covering your tracks."

Nodding at him, Murtagh felt Saphira touch his mind and speak outside his barriers

'It is good to see you unharmed Murtagh, Little one and I were quite worried about your wellbeing'

'Thank you for worrying, Saphira' Murtagh thought back before turning to Eragon.

"What in the world happened to you? If it weren't for Saphira I wouldn't have even recognized you!"

Eragon's face gained a far-off look as he spoke "Durza attempted to turn me into a Shade but Saphira interrupted the process and caused this, saving me from the Spirits. I am now much faster, stronger and more aware of my surroundings than before."

Looking in disbelief at the Rider speaking so nonchalantly of his ordeal, Murtagh just shook his head before pointing towards the Elf and speaking

"The Elf hasn't moved or spoken in the last six days and I don't want to touch her mind. However she is burning a fever, so it isn't out of the realm of possibility that Durza poisoned her."

Shaking his head, Eragon moved towards Tormac and united the Elf before carrying her towards Saphira. As he climbed over his dragon he shouted over the sudden winds

"Saphira spotted a small grove and shrubs about half and league east of here. Follow us and we will stop for the afternoon there. I will try to heal the Elf as much as I can while we can have food in the shade."

As Saphira took flight and started gliding eastwards, Murtagh spurred Tormac into galloping towards her. By the time he had made it to the grove, his hair and clothes were full of the prickly sand with sweat making things all the more unbearable. Dismounting from Tormac, Murtagh made his way inwards towards where he could hear water being splashed around.

Arriving at the Oasis, Murtagh immediately shed all of his clothes and jumped into the surprisingly deep water, a heavy sigh of relief coming off him before he started scrubbing the sand off him. A scant few feet from him he could see Eragon do the same while Saphira was eating a...something which was too mangle and bloody by now to tell, so Murtagh just averted his eyes from the sight.

Minutes later with nook, cranny and orifice of their body cleaned off the sand, Eragon and Murtagh come out of the small pond and redress, with Murtagh having passed on one of his shirts to his companion. Strapping their swords to their hips, They both move towards where the Elf has been laid in the shade in the soft grass before Eragon kneeled and turned the Elf around.

Murtagh calmly turned around while Eragon untied the leather clothes the elf had been wearing. Flushing a lot as he touched the bare skin of her shoulder accidentally, Eragon took a deep breath before he laid his palm flush against the scarred and scabbed skin on her back, the angry red and brown lines looking ghastly on her perfect form.

'Waise Heill'

At Eragon's incantation, a pulse of deep blue light spread out from his hand with a large amount of his energy being depleted in the process. However, the effects were immediate as the torn skin stitched itself back with the wounds fading into pink lines within moments. A series of cracking sounds came from the Elf's body, the sheer number of broken and cracked bones telling of the horror that had been visited upon her.

After some time and a whole lot more magic being pumped into her, even the scars and the swelling died down and disappeared. Once healed, there wasn't a single sign of the horrors visited upon her.

Staggering back and lying on the grass Eragon looked at his hands in disbelief before a laugh escaped him.

"Well, it seems like Durza did more good to me than harm."

"Why do you say that?" Murtagh asked as he looked with bemusement and a little worry at his...friend?

"My magical reserves have increased much much more than I had before." Eragon replied "The amount of healing I have done just now, this would have taken me more than a dozen times with my old strength, but now? Now I am only at half of my magical strength!"

"So Durza inadvertently made you stronger?" This time there was a little amusement in Murtagh's voice, something which Eragon picked up on.

"No, Saphira made me stronger, or at least she is the reason I am still Eragon instead of some abomination of a Rider and a Shade. But the Spirits that inhabited my body and mind before being removed by her improved me, so Durza is the reason for all this."

Murtagh just shook his head and before moving a little away and laid down with his back against the tree. He fell asleep within moments, the last few days having been especially hard on his mind and body both.

Shaking his head at his companion, Eragon looked down at the Elf and tied up her upper clothes back, his reaction this time still as extreme as earlier.

'Eragon, do you think we could try and talk to the Elf?'

'She is unconscious Saphira, how do you think we will tal-... Oh!'

Eragon sent a scathing look at the giant lizard who was laughing at his forgetfulness before he looked down at the elf and sent a tendril of thought towards her.

He had barely even touched at the awe-inspiring and imposing defenses of her mind before she struck like a snake and gripped his probe before ripping it to shreds and attacking his mind.

Brom was more than a century old and veteran Rider who had killed several Forsworn and their dragons. His mind had been old and fortified like the walls of the strongest steel. His mental attacks had decimated his defenses and found even the most minute of holes to breach his psyche.

But this Elf? She surrounded his mind before crushing it from all sides, her intent to turn him into a vegetable clear for him and his dragoness. Thoughts of one again someone violating his mind came to the forefront of his thoughts and with a savage roar in the mental plane, Eragon fed all of his fury into his defenses and attacked the Elf's mind. She seemed surprised for a moment before her attacks increased in ferocity and strength, the power of a mind much older and much experienced than his came creasing down on him.

'ENOUGH!' Saphira's voice rang out through both of their heads with a snarl, her teeth bared in the physical world as well.

'Eka ai Skulblaka!'

The pressure immediately lifted off at Saphira's proclamation, the Elf's shock and suspicion felt by both of them as her mind retreated a little. Heaving a little at the mental battle, Eragon thought to the elf

'Eka ai Shur'tugal un ai Fricai'

Her shock diminished and disappeared within moments, the Elf knowing that Ancient Language won't allow him to lie, half-truths yes but not a straightforward lie. The parallels between her mind and Brom's were quite apparent, both of them had vast minds born from more than a century of life. Both of their psyches had a haunted and dark feel to them, memories so painful and emotionally destructive that even after so many years their minds were permeated with them. For the elf this was much more pronounced than the old rider, what with her recent torture and captivity at the hands of the Shade.

'Who are you?' she asked, her voice more melodious than anything he had heard or imagined, yet it was weary with exhaustion and despair.

'I am Eragon, the rider of Saphira, the last free rider and female dragon in existence.'

'Tell me Shur'tugal, how did you happen to come by me? I know I was to be taken to Uru'baen within a few days.'

'We and a friend of ours infiltrated the Keep where you were kept prisoner and freed you.' Saphira thought, her mind feeling strangely affectionate towards the Elf.

'What do you mean you freed me? And how did you come to know about my capture and imprisonment?'

'I had dreams of you in your cell. Once you also looked towards where I was standing from my point of view.'

The Elf was unresponsive for a few moments before she thought back to both of them

'I once felt like someone was scrying on me but in my state, I wasn't able to do much. For now, where is Brom? I had meant to send the dragon egg to his location in Palancar Valley.'

'Brom...is dead. He was felled by the Ra'zac and I was unable to save him.'

Silence descended between the three of them as sorrow emanated from each of them. The Elf quickly overcame the shock and then spoke

'I had felt my wounds being healed but I resonated that it was Durza doing so for another round of torture. Tell me Rider, how many spellcasters are traveling with you?'

'None. It is only me, Saphira and Murtagh, the human who brought out of Gil'ead and up to Hadarac.'

'You mean to tell me that a human rider, not even half-an-year old, has enough energy to heal the wounds which would render even an elf at half of his or her strength?'

Wincing at the skepticism and the mockery in her voice, Eragon just shook his head and brought the memories of his own time with Durza sans the Eldunari and the subsequent healing he had performed on her right now. After she was done watching the memories she spoke

'I apologize for doubting the truth of your words, Shur'tugal. My name is Arya, the ambassador of the Elves to the Varden.'

'I am Eragon, and the dragoness which hatched from the egg you were ferrying is Saphira.'

Arya sent thankfulness towards both of them before she continued

'You have healed all of my physical ailments and mentally I am perfectly fine, but Durza poisoned me with Skilna Bragh, a rare poison which can kill within hours. He gave me the antidote—the Tunivor's Nectar...each morning, by force if I refused. However, I have retreated into my mind and stopped any motor functions except for breathing and my heart's beating, therefore the spread of the poison is much slower now. I can remain in this trance for weeks, However talking like this and the mental exertion has sped up the process. I can feel it in my veins even now. '

Worry immediately came over him and he asked

'How long can you remain like this?'

'At the most, I have five days now before I succumb to it.'

'Where can we find the antidote for it?'

'Outside of the Empire, only my people in the heart of Du Wuldewarden and the Varden in the Beor mountains have it. However the former is impossible to reach for you currently even on Dragonback and I won't give the location of the latter until you swear an oath to never tell of its location to anyone from the Empire and you don't mean harm to the Varden, the elves and the Dwarves and you haven't misled me in any way.'

Arya told him the words he would have to swear and Eragon swore the unbreakable oath in the mental as well as the physical plane. Satisfied with that, Arya suddenly pushed a deluge of memories in his mind. He found himself riding along the Beor Mountains, traveling eastwards through many leagues. Eragon did his best to remember the route as craggy mountains and hills flashed past, great wolves and bears the size of a small wagon visible. He was heading south now, still following the mountains and occasional creek. Then everything wheeled abruptly, and he entered a narrow, winding valley. It snaked through the mountains to the base of a frothy waterfall that pounded into a deep lake, a great cliff visible at its back with dark forest reminiscent of the Spine on either side of the huge lake.

The influx of images stopped and Arya spoke

'When you reach the Kostha-Merna lake at the end of the valley, bang the cliff there and speak the words Aí Varden abr du Shur'tugals gata vanta, that should get you the entry to the Varden stronghold. The guards will search and challenge you but don't be disheartened or falter in any way.'

'Wait! What do you mean I wi-' Eragon's thoughts were cut off as Arya spoke once again, her voice growing fainter with each passing moment

'My life is in your hands, Shur'tugal. Make haste to the Varden and ask them to give me the Tunivor's Nectar as soon as possible. I am once again going into a trance, I have expended too much of my energy by communicating like this and I will be unable to do it once again. If you are unable to make it to the Varden the rouse my mind for I have information that is important for the survival of the Varden which I must pass onto you. Farewell Eragon, Farewell Saphira.'

Arya's presence entirely receded from their minds, the Elf once again going into trance while Eragon and Saphira both looked at the calmly sleeping in the real world with concern and wonder in equal amounts. Sighing, Eragon picked up Arya and walked towards Saphira. Inadvertently his eyes traced the high cheekbones, the long lashes and the fair skin of her face and he blushed up a storm even as he tried to calm down his thoughts and blood both.

Lowering her gently beside Saphira and she covered her with her wing like a tent. While time was of essence to save Arya's life, Saphira and Murtagh were too tired to travel anymore without any rest, therefore Eragon let them both sleep while he moved to the other side of the pond and drew his swords.

While he could use his left and right hands both for fighting with swords, doing so with both hands at the same time was something he wanted to learn, the memories of Gil'ead showing him his clumsy movements and how sometimes he had struck his own weapon while fighting. It had been his superior strength and much greater speed that had allowed him to kill the soldiers, however, in the face of Durza he would be cut to ribbons without learning to dual-wield properly.

Settling into the basic stance Brom had taught him, Eragon bent his knees a little while raising his right arm in front of his chest, making Zar'roc point forwards towards an imaginary foe while he reversed the purple blade, making it point backwards. Closing his eyes, Eragon slashed downwards at an angle, striking at the possibly raised shield or the sword of his enemy while bridging up the other arm to block the responsive strike to his chest and abdomen.

Turning with the movement he brought Zar'roc in an overhead strike, forcing his enemy to the ground with his brute strength while slashing upwards with the other sword which would either open up the kneeling enemy's guard by removing his weapons or force him backwards due to his increased speed.

Kicking out his front right leg towards the chest or legs of his foe, Eragonjabbed Zar'roc forwards while making a horizontal slash with the purple blade and then turned to bring Zar'roc downwards point first to impale his adversary.

'Do you want to wield two blades together in battle or are you just swinging those around for leisure?'

Eragon jumped at the unfamiliar voice in his head before he turned towards the bag tied to Saphira's saddle and asked

'Are you one of the Eldunari we rescued?'

'Were you hit on the head too many times child?' The voice snorted, 'Of course I am one of the Eldunari from Durza's stash. Who else would be here to talk to you through our minds? I am Jormun, partner of Thorin'

The dragon's voice was deeper and more...rumbling than Obara's and seemed much more intimidating than him. Eragon shook his head before he thought back

'I want to battle with two swords since a Rider's sword is the strongest there is in existence if the shattered armor and weapons in Gil'ead are any evidence. I am also much faster than other humans now, therefore using swords will be better instead of taking a shield and making myself slower. Obara-Elda is also going to teach me wards to stop projectiles, poisons and physical strikes.'

'You speak true child, however, too many arrows and a circle of several combatants will still overwhelm your wards and speed given enough time, to say nothing of when Durza is going to fight you.' Jormun pointed out before he sent a series of images to his mind.

A RIder clad in silver armor wielding two curved swords dancing amongst really big Urgals—Kulls they were called as. His movements were swift and without waste, carving flesh and splattering blood in every direction. Arrows streaked at him in hundreds, only for them to stop just shy of his skin and fall to the ground. However, despite the hundreds of arrows and the innumerable times the Kull physically struck at the wards, the Elf remained completely unharmed, not even a hint of perspiration or tiredness on his face despite maintaining the wards and fighting for what was sure to be hours on the end.

The images petered off and Jormun said,' When you can cast every ward we are going to teach you, we will teach you the technique Ingvar, the Rider I showed you used to keep his wards and energy constant throughout the fighting.'

Determination and excitement filled him in equal parts, much like the time when Brom had started teaching him swordplay and magic both, Eragon sheathed his swords and knelt on the ground while staring at the clear skies above him.

'When do we start, Ebrithil?'

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