Well here it is everyone. Here it is. Like always I don't own Eragon but it's all in my head this story. To answer some questions in the reviews. Will I do a Harry Potter Fanfic? I always played around with the thought of Harry having a twin and not being BWL (when in fact he is but everyone mistaken his twin for BWL) But I have no motivation to write it because HG got their happy ending and I'm awed and happy with the way the HP series worked out. This story takes top priority now. Anyways, have fun reading! RR
Hold still Thorn, ordered Arya as she reached up to fix the neck piece that covered the ruby dragon. An incompetent person had placed the armor piece at an angle and as a consequence, every time Thorn moved his neck it would rub uncomfortably at his scales. Keeping still as she asked, Arya shifted the neck piece up to loosen the metal before rotating it and sliding the armor into place. Better?
Much, Thorn answered her, his deep voice rumbling in her mind. He moved his neck back and forth seemingly comfortable with the repositioning of the neck armor. Thank you Arya.
Of course, it was the least she could do for the ruby dragon before the siege of Feinster. She heard footsteps approach her as well as the sound of hooves hitting the ground. She turned and saw Bard making his way towards her garbed in steel armor a helm tucked in the crook of his right arm. In his left hand were the reins to his noble, white stallion that followed behind him. At his hip, she saw a sword and dagger. He looked like the commander he was thought Arya as Bard approached her.
"We'll attack at your signal Arya," said Bard seriously. That was right, she and Murtagh were to fly over the walls of the city and open up the gates from within. Once the gates were opened, Bard and Jörmundur were to lead the Varden's forces into the city and attack the soldiers stationed there. Then while they were occupied fighting with the empire's men, Arya and Murtagh had to find and capture Lady Lorana.
Arya nodded to Bard at his words, "Let us fight swiftly Bard."
He spared her a slight grin as if her words were the best words of encouragement he ever had the opportunity to hear. He saluted to her, "May you bring us glory Arya Dröttningu!" she felt a faint twinge of amusement rise up in her as she watched Bard lead his stallion away to move to the forefront. When the sun set, they were going to attack the city. Battles were much easier fought in the coolness of night than the heat of day.
Are you nervous?
Eridor came to a stop beside her, garbed in dragon armor. She stared up at him a feeling of pride surged through her at how ferocious of a dragon he looked. Arya laid a hand against the side of his snout watching as he blinked. "Nervous?" repeated Arya with a soft scoff, "While you are by my side, there is no need for me to be nervous."
His tail twitched in response to her words and to show his affections, Eridor breathed a warm breath of air against her hair and licked her on the side of her face. They stood together waiting for night to fall. Her eyes traveled to the city walls and the lanterns that ranged along the parapet. Tonight, the Varden was going to lay siege on Feinster and the elven army was going to lay siege on Gil'ead. At the thought of the siege that was going to take place at Gil'ead, her thoughts wandered to Eragon. Earlier in the day, she contacted him to simply talk to him before they each carried out their duties. He was dressed in the handsome armor that the dwarves gifted him and wore the beautiful helm that Rhunön crafted for him. Seeing him garbed for battle made her heart ache. They weren't going to be able to cover for each other anymore. It worried her. Eragon was a dual wielder and as such he never took his own protection seriously opting for aggression over protection. Not only that but he became a reckless warrior in battle. It was in his natural.
"Is something wrong?" Arya blinked as she stared at him from her basin. Unlike last time, she could not bring herself to argue with Eragon. She couldn't get rid of the choking feeling that she felt. It made it hard for her to speak. When she didn't answer him, Eragon smiled slightly, "Can it be that you are worried for me?"
She fought the urge to roll her eyes, "You do not appear worried," observed Arya as she stared at him. He shrugged.
"I have Saphira here by my side," said Eragon as if that explained enough, his expression grew serious. "I also have two rider's blades to fight with." She nodded but the anxious feeling in her chest never left. Eragon had a way of getting himself in the worst of troubles. She was also worried about how he was going to fare around the blood thirst that battle brought. Her hands clenched the edge of her table, splitting the wood.
"Once you are done with your obligations at Gil'ead," began Arya watching as his brown eyes softened. He nodded with a smile.
"I shall make haste to return to your side," promised Eragon. His eyes flickered to the side as if someone had called to him. He turned back to her, "We are needed elsewhere Arya. Let us bring victory to our allies."
Before he could leave, she called out to him, "Eragon!" he turned to her worried as to what it could be. After struggling with herself, Arya spoke in a quiet voice, "My mother…" she couldn't find it within herself to ask of him such a selfish request. But he merely nodded.
"I shall watch over her. Do not worry Arya."
Eridor nudged her; she turned to the green dragon. Murtagh and the others have arrived. With his head, he gestured a few yards away. Indeed, Murtagh was approaching with Blödhgarm and Wyrden. Murtagh and Wyrden were garbed for battle wearing fine armor while Blödhgarm had forgone armor, comfortable with what he was already wearing.
"Night has fallen," said Murtagh. Her eyes stared up. The last rays of the sun had vanished to leave behind the beginnings of darkness. The time has come thought Arya. She climbed onto Eridor as Wyrden climbed up behind her gripping her about the waist. They were to move swiftly and open the gates for the others. Arya's eyes caught Murtagh's blue ones. He nodded to her once.
Let us fly Eridor, she spoke to the emerald dragon. Letting out a deafening roar, Eridor jumped upwards unfurling his wings to climb. Instantly at his roar, she heard shouts coming from the direction of the parapet. Angling towards the city, Eridor flew towards Feinster with Thorn flying beside them. When they were in range of the archers on the parapet, a barrage of arrows flew at them ready to shoot them out of the sky. Ready to handle the arrows, Arya lowered her hand as Murtagh shouted a spell in the ancient language, his palm glowing ruby red.
The arrows were suspended and frozen as if time had stopped for them. There was a ripple in the air as each arrow was turned about. Then as if each were notched and released from a bow, the arrows tore through the air returning to the archers that released them with double the speed. In the dim light of the lanterns that lined the walls, she could see many bodies fall towards the ground pierced to death by the arrows. Below them, the Varden let out a cheer at the sight of their fallen enemies.
Swooping low over the outer city walls, Eridor roared once more and lashed out with his claws and tail, knocking groups of screaming men off the parapet and toward the hard ground eighty feet below. What an unpleasant death thought Arya grimly. She reached out for Murtagh's mind. He immediately opened himself up to her.
We must land by the city gates before the soldiers use this moment to attack the forces standing by, said Arya.
Of course.
Angling to the side, Eridor flew towards the city gates and over the brick buildings that made up the bulk of Feinster. They didn't stop to deal with every arrow or projectile that flew towards them letting them either miss or bounce off of their wards. She spotted the forty foot gates of the city. Land Eridor.
At her words, Eridor dipped forward and landed on the concrete of the city with a dull thud. A second thud followed as Thorn landed beside them. Quickly undoing her straps, she slid from the saddle landing elegantly on her feet beside Wyrden as Murtagh straightened from his position on the ground. When he landed, the weight of his armor had driven him to one knee. Her blood flowing hot as she was now in enemy territory, every sense of Arya's was on alert. Her ears picked up on the rapid flow of the ancient language. She turned in the direction of the voices. Standing before the gates were three magicians dressed in dark robes, two men and one woman. They were chanting in the ancient language and swaying from side to side with upheld arms.
Beside her Wyrden strung an arrow about to dispatch of them before a commotion from the guard towers drew their attention. Rushing out from them towards Arya and her company were fifty soldiers in gleaming armor. The sound of their approach alerted the deeply concentrated magicians of their presence. Finally seeing Arya and the others, they turned on their heels and fled, their robes flapping behind them. The arrow that Wyrden notched was released slicing through the air towards the last of the fleeing magician. The flight path of the arrow was accurate as it would have pierced the magician directly in the heart, but as it reached the man the air was deflected flying off to the side stopped by the magician's wards. She frowned, she wanted to give chase but they had a task to complete.
The company of fifty soldiers positioned themselves in front of the huge wooden doors. Without hesitation, Arya withdrew Támerlein from its sheath. The emerald blade was beautiful in the gleaming moonlight. If they would not move than she would simply make them move. Behind her, she heard Eridor's growl as he agreed with her train of thoughts.
One of the soldiers pounded the hilt of his sword against his shield and shouted, "Never shall you pass, foul demons! This is our home, and we shall not allow Urgals and elves and other inhuman monsters to enter! Begone, for you shall find nothing but blood and sorrow in Feinster!"
Arya turned to the guard towers and murmured to Blödhgarm and Wyrden, "The gears for opening the gates are hidden within there. Sneak around the men and slip into the towers. We have not the luxury of time to delay and leave the Varden waiting for us."
Blödhgarm nodded, his yellow eyes glowing as he and Wyrden disappeared into the pools of inky shadows that surrounded the houses behind Arya, Murtagh, and the dragons. She was about to spring forward to engage the soldiers with Eridor gathering his strength to join her. Before she could act, Murtagh shook his head. Her eyes narrowed as Murtagh slowly walked toward the soldiers, holding his sword and shield out to either side. An arrow shot toward him from above, stopping dead at his wards only to fall to the ground. He raised his voice and said, "My name is Murtagh! Perhaps you have heard of me, and perhaps not. In either case, know this: I am a Dragon Rider, and I have sworn to help the Varden remove Galbatorix from his throne. Tell me, have any of you sworn fealty in the ancient language to Galbatorix or the , have you?"
Arya felt a wave of exasperation hit her. This was war not peacemaking. The soldiers before them had already made it clear that they were not going to yield. Had they wanted to, they could have done so a few days earlier when Nasuada had sent an envoy to the city gates offering them to surrender and lay down their weapons. They had denied it then and shall deny it now. Talking will only delay the inevitable.
The captain of the soldiers said, "We may not have pledged ourselves to the king, but Lady Lorana has. What will you do to her, then? Kill her? Imprison her? No, we will not betray our trust and allow you to pass, nor the monster clawing our walls. You and the Varden hold nothing but the promise of death for those who have been forced to serve the Empire."
And so it was thought Arya. She readied her sword as Murtagh tried in a last attempt for them to lay down their weapons and surrender. "I do not wish to kill you, but my companions and I will if we must. Lay down your weapons!"
Blödhgarm silently opened the door at the bottom of the leftmost guard tower and slipped inside. Without making a sound, Wyrden crept behind the soldiers toward the other tower. If any of the men had turned around they would have seen him.
The captain of the soldiers spat on the ground by Murtagh's feet. Arya frowned. How distasteful. "You don't even look human yourself! You're a traitor to your race you are!" And with that, the man raised his shield and hefted his sword and slowly walked towards Murtagh. What did he hope to gain by doing that? If he was going to attack and die valiantly, he might as well have charged with all of his strength. Without any effort, Murtagh stabbed Zar'roc through the captain's shield and through his chest and back. The man convulsed once and was still. As Murtagh pulled Zar'roc free of the body, there was a discordant clamor from within the guard towers as gears and chains began to turn and the massive beams that held closed the city gates began to withdraw.
"Enough of this Murtagh! They will not yield!" Arya said to him as she rushed past.
Bellowing in unison, twenty soldiers ran towards them, brandishing their swords. The others either dispersed and fled inward the city or else took Murtagh's advice and placed their weapons on the paving stones and knelt by the side of the street, defeated.
She heard the combined roars of the dragons as they sprung forward having done enough waiting and talking. Not deterred by the spray of blood on her armor, she danced from one enemy soldier to the next faster than they could react as the dragons crushed and burned to death their attackers. When she spun backwards to let Murtagh leap forward, she felt out of place often used to seeing Eragon's brute attack follow her more graceful ones. Instead Murtagh finished off his enemies with swift and elegant moves with the use of Zar'roc. The red blood was difficult to make out on his ruby blade. There was a difference in their fighting style she thought as she watched Murtagh slide to a stop slicing the last soldier cleanly in half. His first half tumbled to the ground followed by the second half. They weren't clean about their fighting though thought Arya feeling a faint trickle of amusement.
Wyrden and Blödhgarm emerged from the guard towers just as the gates groaned and swung outward. From above she heard the cries of dismay from the archers as they retreated to a more defensible position. She needed to give Bard the signal. Bard had stationed the Varden's forces a safe distance away from the gates to avoid the archers and was waiting for her. Arching Támerlein into the sky, she said in a strong voice, "Garjzla!" a bright ball of emerald light flew up into the air. It was a beacon of light in the dark sky.
A second passed and then she heard the loud roar of the Varden as well as the pounding of feet and hooves. A few minutes passed before the gates were thrown open by magic and Bard rode in, the Varden's warriors pouring in behind him. The Varden rushed forward, streaming into the city, their jangling armor and pounding boots creating a continuous rolling thunder.
"Good hunting Arya!" yelled Bard as he rode by her with an excited smile. Battles gave him a sense of freedom observed Arya as he pulled his stallion to a stop to call out to the Varden. "My men, follow me! The others go to your assigned positions and carry out Jörmundur's orders!" There was a yell of enthusiasm to his orders. He nudged his horse in its side with his armored feet and rode off towards the center of the city. Breaking away from the Varden was a group of men whom she recognized as the soldiers who deserted the Empire to join ranks with the Varden in order to follow Eragon. Standing by Murtagh as their warriors rushed in, she saw Roran in the mist of the ranks. Murtagh hailed him and Roran raised his hammer in greeting and ran towards them.
Ignoring their moment of conversation, she wiped clean Támerlein as she did so, her hand trembled slightly and she was surprised to find a great amount of blood covering her slim fingers. She blinked. The blood was gone. What was that? Closing her eyes, she shook herself. She couldn't be hallucinating now. They were in the midst of battle. Glancing up, she saw the ten other elves whom her mother had assigned to protect Murtagh and Thorn sprint out of the column of men and surround them. Wyrden and Blödhgarm rejoined them as well.
"Murtagh," she turned to him disrupting his conversation with Roran, "We have to fight our way up to the keep. Bard and his men are attempting to break through and capture Lady Lorana, we must give them our assistance. As much as you want to speak with Roran, that is for another time."
He looked contrite as her words sunk in. He nodded, "Yes, you're right," he turned back to his cousin, "Take care of yourself. Don't be too reckless."
Roran clapped him on the back, then said "Watch yourself, eh?" With that said he trotted after the others from his village. Moving away from Murtagh, Arya climbed onto Eridor. The streets were too close from his large mass to move between. They were going to have to fly about and make their way to the keep where Bard was fighting. She had no doubt that he could handle himself seeing as he was a talented strategist but she was worried about the magicians that had fled earlier. They did not seem like they were part of Feinster which could only mean that they were Galbatorix's servants. She turned to Murtagh.
"We will meet you at the keep," said Arya. Without waiting for his reply, Eridor jumped onto the stairs leading to the top of the city walls and climbed onto the wide parapet where he could take off without harming the Varden's forces. She had no doubt that Murtagh was going to be distracted helping the Varden whenever they were in a tight spot. While he took care of their forces, she was going to help Bard push forward into the city. It would appear that the greater bulk of the forces in Feinster were deeper in the city.
As Eridor flew above the buildings, she searched for the presence of the magicians earlier. But she couldn't find them. Their absence from battle made her cautious. They were not outright trying to protect the soldiers that were fighting in the streets with the forces of the Varden.
It could be that they have withdrawn to the keep in order to protect it, said Eridor as he landed momentarily on a brick house, staring at the streets bellow them like a stone gargoyle. Then as if to boost the motivation of the troops, he let out a bellowing roar only to be met with cheers from the Varden once more. He was as good as raising motivation as Nasuada was thought Arya as she stared out at the battles bellow her.
Still I feel uneasy, said Arya as her eyes wandered to the keep. It was an imposing structured. It was tall and square and adorned with numerous towers of differing height. The roof was made of slate, so attackers could not set it on fire. In the front of the keep was a large courtyard—in which were several low outbuildings and a row of four catapults—and encircling the lot was a thick curtain wall interspersed with smaller towers of its own. She saw hundreds of soldiers teemed within the courtyard. The only way to enter the courtyard on the ground was through a wide, arched passageway in the curtain wall, which was closed odd by both an iron portcullis and a set of thick oaken doors.
She glanced down and saw several thousand of the Varden waiting in the main street before the curtain as one person pressed against the wall. She made a good guess as to who that person was. We must assist them in opening the gates, said Arya, pointing. Eridor rose to the air once more and flew towards the gate as Thorn flew past landing on the parapet above the portcullis and clearing the soldiers off of it.
Thorn and I shall take care of the catapults inside, said Eridor as he landed beside the fearsome ruby dragon. They made the parapet look like a dragon perch thought Arya as she slid from the saddle. She easily ran down Eridor's tall which was draped over the wall of the parapet for her. The eighty foot wall was too high for her to safely jump down. When she reached the tip, she jumped the last twenty feet and landed clean on her feet amongst the Varden. Beside her Murtagh rolled to a landing.
"How is he faring?" asked Arya to Bard as he waited atop his stallion studying Finny's unsuccessful attempts to break open the steel gates.
"The gates are reinforced with many spells, Finny won't be able to break it with brute strength alone," said Bard with a frown. He glanced at her, "If it's not too much to ask, will you take care of the gate for us?" She nodded.
"Clear some space in case I need to use magic," she instructed Bard as she walked forward. He held up his right arm in a fist gathering everyone's attention.
"Back away! Give her room!" he ordered. The Varden backed away as Arya approached Finny who was bent over, his hands on his knees gasping from his exertion. She glanced at the gate. It was protected by spells that was impervious to the boy's strength however.
"Murtagh, let me see Zar'roc," said Arya as he came up to stand by her his guards following him. He gave her a curious stare but did as she asked. She turned to Finny and held the red sword out to him. He took it in his hand in surprise. Then she handed him Támerlein. Holding both of their blades, he waited for her orders.
"Use these sword to break through the wards," said Arya. She watched Finny nod. She wasn't sure how experience of a swordsman he was seeing as he only used his body to fight in battle. Running forward, he let out a shout as he began to slice away at the metal of the portcullis. After a minute, he had managed to cut away a great deal of the grating. It was wide enough for a column of warriors to file through. He then proceeded to slice the wooden beam that barred the door from the inside in half reducing the resistance that kept the gate closed. When it appeared that he was done, Arya walked forward towards the now exhausted Finny. There was no doubt that the swords drew upon his strength in order to counter the magic of the wards on the oaken doors. Panting for exhaustion he returned the blades to their rightful owner.
"It's done Arya," panted Finny sweating profusely from the exertion of it. Feeling rather guilty that he looked so worn down, she was about to offer him some of the energy stored in the emerald of Támerlein but Murtagh instead channeled energy to Finny from the ring on his finger, Aren. Within a few seconds, Finny was restored to his original strength. Then before any of them could do anything, the doors swung open revealing Thorn and Eridor waiting for them in the empty courtyard littered with bodies and broken catapults.
"Well, what are we waiting for?" Bard shouted as his stallion reared, he pointed his sword forward, "Capture or kill every soldier in there until they surrender Feinster to us!" with that said, he charged forward, the Varden following behind, brandishing their swords, spears, and shields with battle-cries. Now that they were in the keep, it would take but a few more hours of fighting before the city was successfully theirs.
Standing by Eridor, a strange feeling came over her. She felt the part of Eragon that was within her pulse violently, causing her body to shake. Her head pounding with an unknown headache, she reached up with her left hand to rub her temple. The charging Varden before her began to shift and change. Instead she saw something else.
Fire was everywhere. The destruction was not limited to the streets but it spread throughout the entire city like a rampant disease destroying everything it came in contact with. Standing to the side, she saw a group of elves run past garbed in silver armor. With great grace and strength that was bestowed to her people, they easily cut down the foes before them. The right corner of a building down the street was blown apart by a violet flash of magic and the burnt corpse of a magician fell from the third story splattering against the ground.
There were the roars of dragons that accompanied the violent music that was created through war. The cries of pain, the shouts of fear, the sound of metal meeting metal, and the pure sound of destruction mixed into one to create an atmosphere that was filled with chaos.
Suddenly a bright light appeared in the smoke of the battle, dressed in golden armor and riding a proud stallion was Queen Islanzadí, her mother. Blood was drenched on her hands, as she proudly rode through the streets her guards following her. Her demeanor was fierce as she spoke in the ancient language to her warriors. She turned to Arya and she felt her worry for her mother surge within her at the sight of her.
Just then from above, she heard the roar of a monster. Her eyes turned upwards to find the imitation of a dragon that Galbatorix had created fly over head. It was different—bigger. Its roar reminded her of a painful howl and gurgle of blood. It made her skin itch.
"You shall never take Gil'ead alive!"
She straightened as she returned to herself. Glanced down at her hand, she saw that there was once more blood coating her fingers but when she blinked it was gone. Whatever was happening to her, she wasn't sure if Eragon felt it either. Their connection was drawing them towards each other and in this situation, it was dangerous to lose control of their consciousness.
"Arya are you alright?" asked Murtagh in concern. He stood before her, Zar'roc drawn in his hand. She nodded. Now was not the time to be distracted. She glanced up at the keep. She could see Bard jumping off of his stallion gathering a part of his forces with him to enter the keep from the bottom.
"We should enter the keep from above and try to capture Lady Lorana as Bard tries to capture her from the ground," said Arya. It looked as if Murtagh was still concerned about her but he didn't protect instead he climbed onto Saphira. Springing from the ground onto one of Eridor's front legs, Eragon climbed into his saddle.
Was that what Eragon was seeing? Asked Eridor as he took flight. Arya's eyes darted to Blödhgarm and the others, the twelve elves were glaring at Murtagh and Thorn in frustration. It was only natural, it was natural for them for they had an obligation to guard Murtagh. As they flew, her eyes caught sight of Murtagh slumping over in his saddle. Had it not been for the straps, he would've fallen to his death. Had something happened?
She reached out to Thorn, what is wrong with Murtagh?
He is seeing through Master Glaedr's eyes, answered Thorn surprising her. When she saw the world through Eragon's eyes was that happening to Murtagh as well? She wanted to ask more but to do so in the middle of battle was not appropriate. It was but a few seconds before Murtagh came to himself. Eridor alighted on the spire of the tallest tower and she climbed down stepping to the side on the steep roof as Thorn landed in the spot where Eridor did to let Murtagh climb off. Lowering themselves onto the narrow stone ledge below, Arya easily ran along the edge with perfect balance to a window which she easily slipped through. Behind her Murtagh was slowing inching along, not glancing at the ground below. They dragons were going to circle about to try to find a way to land inside. Inspecting the room, she blinked as her vision began to shift. Inside the room, she saw the ghostly phantom of a street and flames. Shaking her head, she stared about the room once more finding that it had returned to normal.
Her connection with Eragon was causing what they were seeing to overlap. Feeling his adrenaline run through her, she took in a deep breath. Their distance was making their connection unstable it seemed. If she didn't end the battle here soon, Eragon was going to be put in danger for their connection disoriented them. Murtagh nudged her and pointed to the stairs at the far corner. The two of them quietly inched forward unsure of what awaited them.
As she followed Murtagh, she sensed a strange confluence of energies below them and the mind of five people whose thoughts were closed off to her. She was certain that of the five, three of them were the magicians she'd seen earlier. As they walked, she felt the part of Eragon within her flare once more this time stronger. Stumbling against the wall, she caught herself as she stared up into the eyes of Jeremiah. She blinked and he was gone just like all the other images she'd seen earlier. Was he fighting him?
"Arya are you feeling well?" asked Murtagh once more, having stopped because of her. She nodded waving him on. He hesitated but continued. She followed him. Together, they descended the stairs, making every effort to be quiet. The next room in the tower was much larger than the last; the ceiling was over thirty feet high. In the center of the room stood the three magicians Arya has glimpsed earlier. Her lips thinned as she took in their formation. They stood in a triangle, their hoods thrown back, as they swayed their arms outstretched so their fingertips touched each other's as their weaved a spell that she was unfamiliar with and it irked her. A fourth person sat in the center of their triangle garbed in an identical fashion but he did not join in the spell with the rest of them. She reached out to touch one of their minds to find that it was entirely closed off. She was apt at using her mind to attack others but was surprised to find that the magician she reached out to seemed oblivious to her attack. Galbatorix had trained them well. She frowned and whispered to Murtagh, "They were trained well."
"Do you know what they are doing?" he murmured. She shook her head feeling uneasy that she did not know.
Then the woman in the lavender dress looked up and saw Murtagh and Arya crouched on the stone stairs. She did not call for help but rather placed a finger upon her lips, then beckoned. Arya stared at her contemplating what it could be that she was doing. She thought of what Eragon had told her earlier that day.
Lady Lorana is unlike Galbatorix, if it is apparent that she cannot win she will not sacrifice the lives of her people needlessly. She is a fair person, one of the very few that I believe is competent enough to rule a city.
"Let us go and greet our host," said Arya. They padded down the remaining stairs and snuck across the room, never taking their eyes off the engrossed magicians. "Are you Lady Lorana?" asked Arya in a soft voice as they halted before the seated woman. She did not want to frighten her.
The woman inclined her head. "That I am, fair elf." She turned her gaze upon Murtagh, "And are you the Dragon Rider of whom had abandoned the Empire? Are you Eragon Shadeslayer?" At the mention of his half-brother Murtagh and Arya exchanged glances, Murtagh shook his head.
"I am Murtagh, his half-brother," her face fell slightly, "I had hoped he would come for he would be able to stop them." She gestured to the magicians.
"Why is it that you need Eragon?" asked Arya with a frown. "Why do you not order them to surrender?"
"I cannot," said Lorana. "They answer only to the king. I have sworn myself to Galbatorix—I had no choice in the matter—so I cannot raise a hand against him or his servants; otherwise, I would have arranged their destruction myself."
"Why?" asked Arya her eyes darting to the ritual, "What is it you fear so much?"
The skin around Lorana's eyes tightened. "They know they cannot hope to drive off the Varden as they are, and Galbatorix has not sent reinforcements to our aid. So they are attempting, I do not know how, to create a Shade in the hope that the monster will turn against the Varden and spread sorrow and confusion throughout your ranks."
"But a Shade might just as easily turn against them and everyone else in Feinster as it would against the Varden," argued Murtagh.
Lorana nodded, "They do not care. They only wish to cause as much pain and destruction as they cane before they die. They are insane, Rider. Please, you must stop them, for the sake of my people!" Outside, she heard the loud roars of Eridor and Thorn as they landed upon the balcony outside. Only Thorn knocked aside the shutters with a single blow and pushed his head inside. The magicians did not take notice of the dragons and continued onward. Arya glanced at Murtagh drawing Támerlein to approach the four. He drew Zar'roc and started towards the triangle. But as he walked, she saw him falter before collapsing to the ground.
"Murtagh!" moving to his side, she knelt by him lowering Támerlein to the ground, she hated leaving the magicians to continue their incantation but she needed to know how Murtagh was faring. She shook him but he was unresponsive. Why of all times?
Taking in a deep breath, Arya reached out to Murtagh with her mind. The moment she touched his unguarded thoughts she found herself staring at the battle field of Gil'ead the city burning with embers of flames as the elves fought to gain control of the military fortress. Compared to the fighting in Feinster, it was much fiercer and greater at Gil'ead.
It was like she was staring out from above in Glaedr's eyes.
Below running along the roofs of the city was Eragon fighting Jeremiah with such speed that it was hard for him to even keep track of. His blue blades tainted red flashed in the night, blue streaks due to the speed of his attacks. They attacked each other jumping about each of their swords as if it was a mere game they played.
Above a chunk of rotting meat fell. Saphira had managed to grab the imitation dragon in her hold and was busy ripping at its neck. As she did so, a pure white shine appeared in the flesh. He knew what the gleam was.
It was an Eldunarí.
She wanted to continue watching but stopped when Eragon's soul within her resonated once more pulling her back to herself. She shook her head trying to focus. The situation they were in was not ideal thought Arya as she stared at Murtagh as he laid there. Her headache returning once more, she was not sure if it was her eyes or something else but her surroundings began to shift once more. Overlapping the central chamber she found herself standing on a rooftop, jumping from roof to roof following after Jeremiah. She shook her head, her surroundings returning to norm. Before her Murtagh's eyes opened and he stood looking disoriented. She stood with him, her hands tightening over pommel of Támerlein.
"Are you well enough to fight?" asked Arya to him. He nodded. She started forward stopping when she felt something warm drip on her hand. She glanced down at her left hand. There was a speck of blood on it. But she wasn't injured else Eragon's magic would have sprung forth to heal her. Her heart pounding in her chest, she fell over on her knees feeling Murtagh's hands grip her catching her.
"Arya?"
The world was fading from her as she found herself once more drawn to Eragon.
Running rapidly from roof to roof, Eragon followed after Jeremiah. He was certain that Jeremiah had several Eldunarí with him. There was no other way he would be able to match his strength. Above, he saw Glaedr and Saphira fighting the rotting flesh dragon with renewed strength as if they had discovered something about the dragon that infuriated them. Oromis having suffered a seizure earlier was brought back to the elven encampment to recover. His retreat was covered by Eragon and Saphira. Wielding Vrangr in one hand, he nicked Jeremiah on the arm and the moment it made contact with his blood, the blade glowed. Jeremiah brought his sword up to deflect the blow only to have the blade of his sword melt away as it touched the pulsing violet glow that lined Vrangr. Seeing him unarmed, Eragon brought up Brisingr and stabbed him through his right wrist as he howled in pain.
Not losing momentum, he ran forward pushing Jeremiah off of the roof and causing him to land on his back with a slam. Pulling Brisingr out, he placed a foot on Jeremiah breathing harshly. "Any last words?"
Jeremiah had grown quiet underneath him. Not struggling, he stared blankly up at Eragon before speaking, this time in a rich voice. His voice was round and smooth, like those of a practiced orator, "It has been some time since I have seen you Eragon," the surprised that surge through Eragon left him unguarded as he was thrown off of his feet with a ball of light to his chest causing him to fly backwards, slamming into a brick wall of a house behind him. The brick cracked under the pressure of the impact and gave wave causing him to land roughly on his back, dazed. "Ah, I had hoped that I could limit the destruction of Gil'ead."
Emerging from the large gap created by Eragon's impact, Jeremiah appeared healing his wrist as he did so. His right arm from elbow to hand was made of metal. He walked forward with ease, bending down to pick up Vrangr. "What a beautiful blade this is…" The sword shook in his hands, ill at ease in his hand. "How rebellious, just like its rider."
He held glared down at Eragon pointing Vrangr at the rider. "Let me teach you, my protégée, how we deal with treason amongst our kind."
Read everyone's reviews and I figured you all thought as much about my update speed. Anyways, I'll try to work on Eragon's POV and have it updated soon but I'll be doing it from scratch. To answer the Sone who asked me about the concert, I haven't gone to the LoveGirls concert but I went to their June 9th World Tour Concert. (VIP Seats peoples! Taeng-shi was dorky as ever). Anyways, to address the concerns about my possible spin-off, I have thought of doing a sequel about a "What comes next" I always thought of ExA rebuilding Alagaesia and the Order, and maybe having kids or something. However nothing is certain at this point. Also to those of you who recommended "Fainting Robin" I've read that story way back. The writer was someone whom I had the chance to talk to by FF PMs. That writer was the one who gave me the idea of writing a time travel fanfic. I just never got around to it. Anyways, hope to see you all soon! Leave a review if you want :) or anxiously wait for the next chapter!