A/N: Just a little warning, the end of this chapter is a bit violent. And I have to say that the next chapter probably won't come for a while (I had all these typed out in advance), but I'll work on it as much as possible.
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Well, that was rather invigorating. Haven't had a fight like that in over a hundred years.
The sun was setting beneath the horizon in a brilliant display of color. What light was left also sparkled off the black dragon's scales, and those looking up at him thought he was a massive dark star, glimmering in the evening sky. Iormungr and Mandrake flew across Surda, intending to get back to the Varden's army before dark.
The Varden had declared war on Galbatorix and were marching north, intending to take key towns in order to block off supplies to the Empire. The elves were doing the same thing in the north, and Islamized had ordered a fair sized group of elvish battlemages to join the Varden. Once their training was complete, Eragon and Saphira would be joining her father in the conquest of the Empire.
We both did well, though we'll have to be a lot more careful when we fight Galbatorix. said Mandrake, watching the sunset from the back of Iormungr.
He landed on a cliff far from the Burning Plains just as night crept over them. The Varden's encampment could barely be seen in the distance, and Iormungr decided to join them in the morning. Gesturing for Mandrake to dismount, the black dragon settled on the cliffside, laying a wing over his friend. He could feel the elf settle against his warm side, and like him, fell into a peaceful sleep.
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Iormungr screamed in soul-rending pain as the ancient shade crawled up from the depths of his very being, and assimilated itself with the dragon's body. No longer was he Iormungr, for the shade had consumed him in his entirety. With demonic force, the shade dragon leapt into the sky and all went black as Iormungr struggled to wake himself from this nightmare.
What he saw next terrified him even more than the shade. The ruins of a once great castle lay before him, and the town surrounding it was completely engulfed in flame. The crumbling walls of the castle were drenched in dragon's blood, and the shredded remains of a very large black dragon lay in the courtyard. The shade dragon roared in victory, then turned as a berserk, rider less, ruby dragon flew toward him. With one swift blow, the shade tackled his foe and clamped down on his neck with is mighty fangs. Tossing the corpse into the courtyard, the shade roared again, challenging all those who would defy him. It was then that he felt powerful emotions emanating from somewhere in this castle. The source was a magnificent sapphire dragon, crying for the loss of her kin. The shade dragon laughed, and then descended upon her.
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SAPHIRA!
Iormungr launched his head in the air and looked around, breathing heavily. What he just dreamed about must have been a glimpse of the future. Every time that beast showed up in his dreams, either he or someone close to him has died, or nearly so. The first attacks by the dragons and elves of old, a near fatal encounter with the Riders, and when Galbatorix slew his family and Ruidrik. Before all these events, Iormungr had multiple nightmares in which he was terrorized by this malevolent spirit. And this time, he knew his daughter was next.
Iormungr fervently swore he would protect his daughter's life at all costs. He guessed her future killer most likely would be Galbatorix, but to defeat him would be hard. With the help of Mandrake, surviving that fight might be possible, but such things were not likely. Taking a look at the sleeping elf beneath his wing, Iormungr smiled, marveling at how peaceful he looked in these times of war.
As his attention turned back to his daughter's future, Iormungr decided to do this alone. Even though the black dragon felt he would be betraying Mandrake's trust in him, the elf had a long life ahead of him, and the black dragon wanted him to enjoy it. All the emotions pent up over the years, all the anger and love, he would use those to fuel the fire within him and unleash his true strength against Galbatorix. Iormungr sighed, looking once again at the sleeping elf, who had shifted slightly and leaned harder against the dragon's side. He knew sleep would not return tonight, so until the sun rose, Iormungr watched the stars twinkle in the night sky, pondering his inevitable fate.
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Looking at the moon and stars, Glaedr sighed. There was uneasiness in his bones, and he could not determine the cause. His worry kept Oromis awake, and together they pondered this uncertainty.
I can't help thinking that something happened to Eragon and Saphira. pondered Glaedr, wondering what happened to his students. He watched as Oromis brought out a bowl of water and a lantern.
"I pray they haven't fallen into Galbatorix's clutches, which is what I fear may have happened. This will confirm my suspicions." Glaedr nodded in agreement, and stretched his neck to he could see over his riders shoulders easier. Oromis took a deep breath, then muttered the traditional words "Draumr Kopa", while envisioning the sapphire dragon as he last saw her. The water shimmered, but didn't change. Rumbling with concern, the golden dragon turned his head to his rider, eyes whirling with worry.
Either she's dead, or within Uru'baen, where our spells can't reach her. And Eragon probably still has that necklace on him…
Oromis clutched his forehead, wondering what hope the Varden and elves would have. Then he remembered a certain dragon by the name of Iormungr. The only able dragon on the Varden's side, he would have to successfully kill Galbatorix and take down the Empire.
I don't like him for what he did to you, dear, but we have no choice. I'll have a battalion of our battlemages go and join the Varden, and inform our old acquaintance of his daughter's fate… Glaedr?
The golden dragon didn't reply right away, for the powerful force known as Lifis was speaking to him. Entering his dragon's thoughts, Oromis was surprised to feel the presence of this strange entity.
Lifis, is it? What are you, and why have you contacted us? asked a wary Oromis, being cautious with this new presence.
"I will reveal what I am to the elves at a later date. As for now, I came to discuss with you a matter of grave importance. I am drawn to scenes of great emotion, particularly love, and the most recent of these was the separation of a rider and his dragon above the desert to the south. The dragon was taken by another of her kind, and as for the rider, he is buried within the sands of the Hadarac. He may be alive, but things are looking quite grim. If that rider dies, then so does the race of dragons…"
Oromis and Glaedr could tell Lifis couldn't talk for long, for her words were getting softer as she spoke. When she finally withdrew, the elder rider returned to his attention to the bowl of water. Envisioning Eragon as he last saw his student, he muttered the words once again. What he saw worried him greatly. There was Eragon, lying unconscious in the sands of the desert. His face was torn by sandstorms and looked as if all moisture had been sucked out of it. Yet there was hope, for Oromis noticed a bottle of Faelnirv was resting on the riders lips. Expanding his mind, the elder rider sought the help of an old friend of his.
That friends name is Vandor, and he is now the captain of a select group of elf warriors. He and Oromis grew up together, and as children, both were selected to try and become riders. No dragon chose Vandor, though he still retained his strong friendship with Oromis, and now Glaedr. The captain, like all elves, had a natural talent for swordplay and magic, and sought to combine these two skills to make use of them on the battlefield. Many others joined him in this quest, and soon became well known throughout Alagaesia. Vandor and his elves could only be trumped by riders, and even then, they put up a good fight. Their skills came in handy during the fall, but they were still no match for Galbatorix and the Forsworn. And so they retreated within the Du Weldenvarden, awaiting the time when they would be needed again.
"I apologize for waking you like this, Vandor, but I have a matter of utmost importance to tell you. Saphira Brightscales has been captured by Galbatorix and Eragon has been left to die in the Hadarac. You and your warriors must hurry and find him, for I fear that he may not have long to live. Go then to our allies and reveal this dire news, then stay and fight with them."
"We will do so immediately" replied the captain, Vandor. He felt the riders mind leave his, then roused his troops for battle. Moments later, he and 29 other elvish battlemages rode out of the pinewood city on Folkvir. Vandor and his followers were the strongest of the elvish spell weavers, masters of all facets of gramarye and trained especially to combat dragon riders. All were clothed in green tinted mail armor, and had a sword and shield in case of hand-to-hand combat.
As the battalion charged though the Hadarac, leaving a cloud of sand roiling behind them, they expanded their powerful minds and sought the location of Eragon Shadeslayer. They felt nothing but the occasional desert creature and group of nomads, but continued on to Surda. About two hours before the sun rose, Vandor sensed a weak presence at the bottom of a large sand dune. Leaping off his mount, he skidded down the hill and almost tripped across the unconscious body of Eragon. Pulling him out of the sand with ease, Vandor hoisted the rider across his shoulder and brought him back to the others. Washing the sand off Eragon's face, and drying it with his shirt, the captain looked him over for any other injuries.
"Lad's lucky he only sprained his ankle, falling from that far up" muttered Vandor, healing the wound with a few simple words. Slipping a little bit of his own supply of Faelnirv down Eragon's throat, Vandor put the bottle away and mounted his steed.
"Saphira…" Crying out ever so silently for his dear dragon, Eragon reached his hand up, but it fell back for the rider was still too exhausted to emerge from the depths of unconsciousness. Vandor looked at him with concern, then along with his crew, vowed that with Iormungrs help, they would take revenge upon Galbatorix for all of his crimes. With grim determination, Vandor commanded his warriors to charge on to the Varden with all possible haste.
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Stirring beneath the wing of a black dragon, Mandrake yawned and stretched, aching slightly from sleeping on stone. He could feel the rhythmic breathing of Iormungr behind him, and noted that the dragon seemed more tense than usual. Standing up, the elf walked out of his friends embrace, and joined him on the cliffside.
"What's wrong, Iormungr?" asked the elf. The black dragon stayed silent, not even turning to look at Mandrake. He knew something was wrong, and he wanted to help, but didn't want to push the dragon too far.
"If something's bothering you, tell me. I'm your friend, and I want to help." Concerned for the well being of his friend, Mandrake laid a hand on Iormungr's forearm and gazed at the black dragons head. Barely moving, Iormungr sent Mandrake a brief image of the shade from his dreams, not wanting to give away his true intentions.
Nightmares. Iormungr continued to stare into the distance, as if pondering some impossible problem. Shuddering at the image of the ancient shade, Mandrake caught a few stray emotions from their brief contact. Love, concern, and intense hatred. He knew this meant only one thing.
"You will not go alone, Iormungr" he said with conviction, forcing himself upon the dragons back. "Even though I've known you for only a short while, I've grown to like you quite a bit. I will not see you slain by the king's hand. We will kill him together, and we will save your daughter." The elf's speech brought old emotions into Iormungrs mind, one's he hasn't felt in a very long time. Turning to face Mandrake with his eyes glittering, Iormungr said
Thank you, Mandrake. I will be glad to have you on my back for this fight.
"What are friends for, Iormungr?" Mandrake was about to continue, but something in the distance caught his attention.
"Those are horses. Is the Empire attacking again?"
I don't know, but let's go check it out. Iormungr dropped off the cliff and opened his wings, easily coasting along a current of air. Flying over the camp, he noticed the approaching horse riders, and their unfamiliar green armor. Their leader was carefully holding a large form in his arms, and the sight of this gave Iormungr a horrible feeling in his heart, though he did not know who it was. He landed as the group of riders stopped before him, and Mandrake leapt off his back, apparently recognizing them.
"Vandor" he acknowledged, eyes widening in horror as the elven captain revealed the identity of the form in his hands.
"Shadeslayer!" Rushing over to Vandor with Iormungr close behind, Mandrake took Eragon from his hands, and set the injured rider on the ground.
"Saphira…" whispered Eragon, breathing lightly as Mandrake looked him over.
"We found him in the Hadarac, almost dead. We patched him up to the best of our abilities, but magic cannot heal the scars of the mind…" said Vandor, concerned about the welfare of the rider before him.
"He thinks Saphira is dead, but that is not true. Galbatorix wants to bring the dragons back, not kill them off." Commented Mandrake, laying his hand on Eragon's forehead. Indeed it was feverish, though not live threatening. A loud growl erupted from behind him, and Mandrake turned to see a very angry Iormungr ready to take flight. He approached his friend bravely, intending to subdue him with reason.
"I know what you're thinking, Iormungr. Every fiber in your being wants to go tear Galbatorix to shreds for what he did to you. But if you go alone, he will use any means possible to kill you, including Saphira. Please think this through, and know that Vandor, his men, and most definitely me will fight on your back and by your side." Mandrake could tell the dragon was listening, for his wings settled by his side and his breathing resumed to a normal pace. He hoped Iormungr wouldn't go berserk and fly off alone, for that would greatly reduce the Varden's chance of victory.
"Mandrake, Eragon needs somewhere to rest. Where is his tent?" asked Vandor, once again taking Eragon into his arms.
"Let us take him to the witch Angela. She will care for him well." Mandrake led Vandor and his crew through the Varden's encampment, though Iormungr refused to move, and instead kept staring to the north. Eventually the feelings subsided and he decided to go check on Eragon. Catching Mandrake walk out of a tent, the black dragon asked about his daughter's rider.
"He still yearns for Saphira" was Mandrake's grave reply. Iormungr let off a low growl, then marched off to the edge of the camp.
I need sleep. Be sure no one disturbs me unless absolutely necessary.
"May you rest well, dear friend." said Mandrake in the ancient language, watching the great dragon curl up. He then marched off to Nasuada's tent, where they and Vandor would discuss plans for the upcoming assault on Uru'baen.
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You
Once again, Iormungr was plagued by the shade from his nightmares. They faced each other above the ruins of Uru'baen, and the bodies of three dragons were strewn about it's crumbling walls. Even though it was a dream, the sight of his daughter's corpse horrified and angered Iormungr beyond reasoning. Though before he woke up, another being came to him. Lifis.
Finally I can reach you without being disturbed by him. Iormungr, you cannot go alone to this fight, for it will most certainly end in your death. And if that happens, all of Alagaesia is doomed.
Completely ignoring her, Iormungr awoke and began flying toward Uru'baen, regardless of Mandrake's and Lifis' advice.
Listen to me, Iormungr. But Lifis could not get through, for the black dragon's intense hatred blocked out all contact.
He must be stopped, or else I will have to take him on myself…
Mandrake, you must wake. Iormungr has left for Uru'baen. He cannot die, for he is one of the shade dragons…
Mandrake woke up immediately, looking around to see who had contacted him. When the voice mentioned Iormungr was one of the two legendary shade dragons, he knew he had to get to his dragon friend before he reached Uru'baen. Racing from the tree under which he slept, the elf sought Vandor and his crew. After hearing the news, Vandor's group and Mandrake immediately dressed for battle and departed for the city of sorrow.
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The moon faintly illuminated the spires of Uru'baen as the residents slept, blissfully unaware of the impending attack. As Iormungr neared the castle, he could not see any dragons on its walls and towers. And so he decided to get their attention himself. Taking a deep breath, he let out a thunderous roar, shaking the castle to it's very roots. Almost immediately torches were lit, and Iormungr heard ballistae being readied. Then one very familiar voice commanded everyone to stop.
There was Shruikan, perched on the highest tower of Uru'baen with Galbatorix on his back. Focusing all of his pent up anger, he roared again and charged toward the king, fully intending on enacting long deserved revenge. He had to stop his assault, for Saphira and Thorn dove out of the sky and placed themselves between Shruikan and Iormungr.
Coward! Are you so afraid of me, that you send your minions to do your fighting for you? cried out an enraged Iormungr, glaring toward the king.
"Kill him" was all he said in return, commanding a very reluctant Saphira to destroy her only surviving family member. Iormungr growled, then slammed into his daughter with such force that it knocked the sapphire dragon unconscious. Slowing her descent with magic, Murtagh carefully placed her one of the castles towers, then returned his attention to the fight. He gasped as Iormungr used this distraction to fly above him and Thorn, then watched as the obsidian dragon landed on Thorns back, nearly crushing Murtagh. Letting no emotion control his actions, Iormungr clamped hard onto Thorns wing and brutally tore it out of the dragon's body. Turning his attention back to the fight, he gasped as Iormungr used this distraction to fly above him and Thorn, then watched as the obsidian dragon landed on Thorns back, nearly crushing Murtagh. Letting no emotion control his actions, Iormungr clamped hard onto Thorns wing and brutally tore it out of the dragon's body.
Kicking off the falling dragon, Iormungr once again faced the killer of his family, who was coming toward him fast. Galbatorix's palm shimmered with the beginnings of a spell, so Iormungr tackled Shruikan, hoping to distract his rider, but it was too late. Iormungr burst into flames just as he grappled with his nemesis, and apparently the king didn't care about damaging Shruikan in the process. As the flames subsided, Iormungr ignored the intense pain and continued trying to rip Shruikan's throat out. Falling toward the ground at unsafe speeds, both dragons left bloody gashes on each others wings and sides. Iormungr attempted to throw Shruikan into the ground, but his enemy kicked off of him and took to the air once again.
On one of the castle's many towers, a groggy Saphira slowly edged back into consciousness. Looking around, she noticed Murtagh tending to Thorns dislocated wing, then turned her gaze toward the air. Horrified, she saw her wounded father land on the ground, barely avoiding crushing his wing. Saphira watched on as Iormungr took flight and continued his fight with Shruikan and Galbatorix. Watching the black dragons battle, the sapphire dragon noticed that neither of them had a rider on their backs. Then she saw Galbatorix plummet from the sky with his sword raised, aiming for Iormungrs spine.
Father, look out! cried Saphira, but it was too late. Galbatorix landed at the base of Iormungrs neck and slammed his blade into the dragons back. Iormungr roared in mortal pain as the king severed his spine, then leapt off onto the back of Shruikan. Iormungr knew the king was laughing victoriously and this angered him greatly, but it didn't matter anymore. He knew he was dying. Slamming into the rocky ground, Iormungr waited for death to finally embrace him, but instead he felt his daughter's presence nearby. She kept whispering his name, but he could not reply. His lungs quickly filled up with blood, for Galbatorix also pierced his throat. Before he went, Iormungr summoned up the last of his strength to talk to Saphira one last time.
Father! screamed Saphira, leaping off the tower and landing next to the dying dragon. Crying profusely, she nudged his cheek and whispered his name, hoping that he would respond. Then she felt Galbatorix walk over to her side, and knew what he was going to force her to do.
"Skulblakae Nassiance, finish him." Forming a sinister smile, Galbatorix watched with amusement as he forced Saphira to do what she dreaded. Her eyes still leaking, she prepared to do the inevitable. About to rip his throat out, she paused when her father spoke to her.
Do not bother, Saphira. I will fade from this land soon, and you will not have to do such a horrible act.
Iormungr coughed, blood leaking out of his mouth.
Before I depart my daughter, take my blessing and listen to my final words. When I first met you, I was so overjoyed that one of my children survived the slaughter. Your presence eases my strained heart, and I am glad to have a daughter such as you. Remember this, Saphira. Love conquers all, sometimes even death. I will always be with you…
And with that final message, the great Iormungr died, leaving his daughter weeping on his cold, unmoving cheek. Suddenly dark magic flowed past her, and many sickening cracks sounded nearby. Looking up, Saphira saw that Galbatorix had shattered every bone in her father's body.
"This'll make sure he won't be coming back to plague me any more" said the king, walking over and raising his sword above Iormungrs neck. Not wanting to see her beloved father mutilated anymore, Saphira to off in a cloud of dust, trying to ignore the sound of Galbatorix beheading Iormungr. Landing in the dragon hold, followed shortly by Thorn, Saphira cried for the loss of her father, whom she knew for only a short while but loved him deeply. Laying a comforting wing over his mate, Thorn closed his eyes and let Saphira cry into his shoulder, knowing that the recent event would be one wound that would not heal easily.