Now for Eragon's POV! I finished this in good time, everything just sort of flowed through me. I want to apologize before hand if there's any grammar mistakes and such. (I've read over it three times to try and check for everything but I'm sure I missed a few). Also, some of you have expressed strong thoughts of conjunctions in terms of the language of the story, I checked that in this chapter as well taking out those that do not fit. Anyways, I hope everyone enjoys reading this since this is my take on the battle for Gil'ead and how things goes down. RR everyone!
Brisingr was lax in his hands as he laid on the ground the pain of his impact still washing through his body. His once silver armor was tainted all over with blood, his own and others. Panting from the exertion of his battles as well as the impact of the blow from Galbatorix, Eragon stared up the tip of Vrangr, the sword shaking in Galbatorix's hand. He'd thought much of the traitor king. It didn't surprise him that Galbatorix knew how to control a mind from so far a distance. His body ached from the pain of the fall and he was tired from the raging battle for Gil'ead. The city was not willing to fall even if they were fighting against one of the most powerful races to have ever walked Alagaësia. As he laid there staring at his sapphire blue sword, Eragon watched as the blood that was stained on the blade slowly began to disappear, absorbed by the sword.
Having killed a multitude of soldiers, Vrangr was pulsing with energy. He stared up into the cold eyes of Jeremiah knowing that it was Galbatorix who was speaking to him. As he stared up at the man, he felt Arya's soul within him resonate and instead of Jeremiah he found himself staring up at maroon eyes. Eragon gasped when he returned to himself, Jeremiah standing before him once more.
"I shall admit I am very displeased by your appearance Gabranth. Or should I say Eragon Shadeslayer?" Galbatorix's voice held a tone of humor to it as if he found the situation particularly enjoyable. Reaching down, he gripped Eragon by the throat, lifting him upwards with ease. Then with the tip of Vrangr, he lifted Eragon's helm from his head. "You, Eragon, have caused me to lose a very faithful servant. Tut-tut, when I heard news that Durza was slain by your hands, I was disappointed in you. To think that you would throw away my kindness and run off with the Varden. How disappointing."
Without another word, he threw Eragon backwards. His strength was tremendous for once more Eragon found himself smashing through another brick wall. Flying a few paces, he rolled and skidded to a stop. It took all of his will power to keep a grip on Brisingr. Not letting him move to his feet, Galbatorix was upon him with such speed that could compare to an elf. Earlier, Jeremiah could barely guard the blows Eragon dealt him and yet…
"I was displeased when that poor meddler Brom managed to take from my treasury Thorn's egg," Galbatorix's voice acquired a harsh, angry cast, but it did not lose its richness. "However, I thought it was repayment enough when his son became the rider of the last female egg in Alagaësia. Yes, I thought what would one egg matter when I had Saphira? Let Brom run about Alagaësia searching for a rider. In the end, that rider shall be no match for the might of my new vassal. Yet, Eragon you have caused me much trouble just like your father. Like father like son."
Eragon coughed, spewing blood onto the ground before him. The pain in his side was excruciating, he was positive that he had crack one if not multiple ribs on his landing. As soon as the pain started, he felt the warmth of Arya's magic and within a few seconds his ribs were mended. "Have you finally decided to deal with us now?" asked Eragon. He felt a small hint of fear in his heart but he wasn't going to give Galbatorix the satisfaction of sensing any sort of fear from him.
"Finally?" Galbatorix laughed, before slamming the flat side of Vrangr against the side of his face, "My, my, my, being outside of my command has caused you to become rude. Has being under Oromis's and Glaedr's tutelage not taught you any mannerism?" Eragon's neck ached from the blow but he shook it off. "I was planning on letting you and your pathetic band of allies march to Urû'baen. Then I would have personally dealt with you myself. Imagine the honor, to have King Galbatorix, the true leader of Alagaësia and the Order of the Riders, fly out to greet you on the battlefield. Many have died before they could even reach the gates of my city."
"Then why have you come now?" asked Eragon. In response to his words, Galbatorix placed a boot on Eragon's ankle and pressed. He heard a snap of bones and a sharp pain run through his leg. He wanted to cry out but refused. Eragon's eyes glanced around the area they were in. It was deserted for the fighting was centered deeper within the city. He couldn't cry out and attract any attention to his situation for Galbatorix could easily kill the elves as they killed humans. His eyes turned to his broke ankle and saw the faint green mist wrap about it. He felt his bones come together and his ankle straighten.
"Ah, manners Eragon," Galbatorix smiled down at him, a cold and chilling smile. "I do not take well to my subjects speaking out of turn. That will just not do when one is facing his king." His eyes stared at Eragon's form, narrowing slightly. "I believe I did not give you permission to simply lie down when speaking with me. What poor form." He lifted his hand and black magic pulsed from Jeremiah's palm. Feeling as if strings had attached themselves to his body, Eragon was pulled to his feet. No matter how much he struggled, he grunted when the force of Galbatorix's magic forced him down on his knees. His hands slammed into the ground before him with such force that the concrete cracked. Brisingr fell with a clang to the ground as Eragon was forced to bow to Galbatorix. He was grateful thought Eragon despite his demeaning position that his mind was cut off from Saphira. They had agreed not to contact each other during battle in order to better protect themselves. He could hear her roars in the sky above and fervently hope that her battle with the imitation dragon continued.
At least until he dealt with Galbatorix.
"Lift your head Eragon, it is only proper for you to face me when I am speaking directly to you," the strings pulled again and Eragon's body automatically straightened from his bowed position. His hands came to rest on his knees and his chin was lifted upwards of its own accord. Galbatorix nodded, satisfied. He turned to examine the ruined street of Gil'ead. Pointing his hand at a brick wall that had yet to fall, he said a few words in the ancient language. The wall shifted like water. Then the materials pulled apart from each other and floated over to Galbatorix. Eragon watched as the bricks reassembled themselves forming a stone throne in the likeness of the one in Urû'baen. "I admit this is rather lacking and I do not have my crown however, this shall do. Once more, I say it is a disappointment not to have personally dealt with such matters in Urû'baen. Formalities are tiring but such are needed."
He shifted in the stone throne as if uncomfortable. Then after a moment, he turned his gaze back to Eragon laying Vrangr out on his knees. Eragon stared at the sword that Arya had forged for him feeling a well of anger rise up within him. She had tiredly labored overnight to make Vrangr and to have it sullied by Galbatorix's—Jeremiah's—hands angered him to no end. It was as if Galbatorix himself was violating Arya. As he thought of that, his mind flashed red. Vrangr continued to shake even as it rested on Galbatorix's knees.
"Now to answer your question Eragon, why did I decide to come out and deal with you now you ask? I shall tell you," he leaned back in his stone throne, staring down at Eragon with deep eyes. Though he may not be in his original body, the effects of his stare were similar if not exact to how Eragon always felt before him: inferior. "News has traveled across Alagaësia about the appearance of a great golden dragon. Long have I thought that the elves might be hiding a dragon or Rider from my sight. It is gratifying to have my suspicions confirmed."
"You shall never be the better of Master Oromis," said Eragon knowing that his words would only serve to irritate Galbatorix. Indeed it did for he flicked his hand and Eragon's body plunged forward once more hitting the ground as he was forced to bow to Galbatorix, this time his head bowed with him. He couldn't take it—this humiliation.
"For shame, Eragon. Have the elves taught you nothing?" he tapped his finger against the arm of the throne and had Eragon straighten once more. "I shall always be your master. A stray dog may run amuck from time to time but it shall always return to its owner."
Galbatorix leaned forward to stare directly into Eragon's eyes, "Now listen well to me Eragon and do not do to irritate me. I am a patient master but I have my limits. If you shall do more to anger me, I shall have Saphira fall from the sky not a master of the winds but as the prisoner of the ground. What great sorrow it is for the likes of Saphira not being able to fly."
He didn't respond but kept his tongue knowing that it would only do harm to anger Galbatorix. The king leaned back in his throne and observed Eragon once more. "I want Glaedr and Oromis to join me in recreating the Order of the Riders. It is only natural that he do so. Oromis-elda has always been the wisest of the Elders. The rest were mere buffoons, idle upon their throne as they watched the world waste away before them. He was the first to recognize the madness eating away at my soul, and it was he who convinced the Elders to deny my request for another dragon egg. I speculate how it could be that he managed to escape Kialandí and Formora, even after they had broken him. Yet, here he is after years of hiding until all but one of his enemies remains. He is a very wise elf do you not agree Eragon?"
Eragon didn't respond to him. Never one to be ignored Galbatorix turned his eyes on Eragon and began to move his fingers. "Do you agree or disagree, Eragon?" Eragon felt his neck move against his own will. Galbatorix made him nod and shake his head to represent the answers he wanted. "You agree?" Eragon's head nodded of its own accord, "I knew you would see it my way. You always were my most loyal subject. Now that I have answered your question, it is time to see how I shall punish you Eragon. You willing gave away the last of the dragon eggs and allowed the Varden to horde the three riders who are rightfully mine. If you seek forgiveness accordingly, I shall see to it that bygones be bygones."
"I do not need your forgiveness," said Eragon defiantly. Galbatorix sighed and once more Eragon found his body bowed against the concrete, the pressure too great for him to overcome in his tired state. As was on all fours in a bow, he felt a twinge of pain that did not belong to him but rather to Arya.
Then instead of staring at concrete, he was in the keep in Feinster.
Gasping for breath, Arya could feel Eragon's magic continually wrap itself around her throat as Varaug held onto her tightly. His strength was too great. He was a newly born shade and was therefore endowed with the power of his recent birth. She tried to breathe but her windpipe was constricted by his tight grip. If only she had Támerlein but the emerald sword was lying beside Murtagh and he had yet to awaken from his stupor. She coughed.
Eragon came back to himself as he felt one Jeremiah's booted feet, rest on his head before pushing his face against the concrete in a demeaning way. "You shall hold your tongue when I speak to you Eragon," said Galbatorix harshly. "Do not make my patience run thin."
The pressure of his foot lifted and once more Eragon found his body straightening of its own accord, the invisible strings holding onto him tightly. "Now let us review your transgressions shall we?" He spoke as if Eragon was participating in an audience with Galbatorix. It was as if they were not in the midst of a battle but rather back in Urû'baen. "First and foremost, you are a traitor to the Empire, your king, and your Master. What have you to say against such claims, Eragon Shadeslayer?"
"You are not my master," muttered Eragon. Galbatorix's eyes narrowed and he was forced to bow once more, the force on his greater than before.
"How many times must we go through this? The saying is that one cannot teach an old dog new tricks, I believe? You are still young Eragon. If you do not learn, you shall never become an old dog," his anger towards Galbatorix only continued to grow. "Moving on, you escaped and allowed two riders to join forces with the Varden to rise up against me. You have killed Durza, a valued asset, and freed the Urgals from my command allowing them too to join ranks with the Varden. You have also allowed this rebellion to spread brining it upon the doorstops of my citizens. You and the Varden are responsible for allowing this war to sweep across Alagaësia. I was content to ruling as king and you go and challenge my ruling. Had you kept your head bowed than this war would have died out. You and your mother could have lived in peace in the estate that I provided you with. However, you answer my graciousness with this!"
He gestured around the burning city of Gil'ead. They could hear the clangs of metal and the cries of death. Blood and smoke hanged heavily in the air. As if angered by his sudden speech, Galbatorix reached out and with the pommel of Vrangr struck him in the head. The world was blurred to Eragon due to the blow. But the strings attached to him would not let his body receive the impact of the blow. It was uncomfortable. He felt blood trickle down his face from the cut the pommel made. It disappeared within seconds due to Arya's magic. Vrangr's shaking grew stronger.
"What is it that has enticed you Eragon?" Galbatorix asked. His voice was still harsh but there was a slight curiosity to it. "You had so much hatred within you, for your father and for Murtagh. I had thought you would kill them with your own hands or drag them to the feet of my throne so that I may deliver justice in your name. Yet, here you are defending them, allowing them to destroy the peace and prosperity I have brought to my empire which I and lord and master of. Is it the appeal of Arya Dröttningu?"
At the mention of Arya's name, Eragon stiffened as Galbatorix's cruel smile widened. "Ah, so you were drawn to her I see. It appears that giving her to you as a gift has horribly corrupted your mind. Had I ordered her to be brought to me the two of you could have shared your ardor as my new riders. You are weak minded Eragon to let but a mere woman weaken your resolve. Has she chosen you as her mate? Do you love her? Love her enough to throw away your life and Saphira's life?"
He pressed his lips together and refused to answer.
"I see. Then in that case I shall not kill you despite all the trouble you have caused me," Galbatorix stood shaking his head. "No, I shall let you march to Urû'baen with your mate and brother. I shall let you stand before me on my rightful throne and I shall see to it that I break the both of you. To think that all of this foolishness has sprouted from your desire to be loved. I admit, I have not taught you well in that essence but never before have I felt disgusted at your actions. Men tempted by women are weak, and weak men harbor weak hearts. I made you intro a strong and fine rider and this elf that you love has destroyed all of my efforts. For that she shall be punished. I can promise you that Eragon."
His hand tightened on the grip of Vrangr and Galbatorix stared down at him. "First however, I still need to punish you. Let me show you Eragon, how treason is dealt with." The strings on his body was released. Faster than Eragon could reach for Brisingr, he was thrown backwards through the street tumbling and skidding to a stop on the ground, every bone in his body feeling as if it was going to break. Galbatorix's strength was too great. He was no doubt exhausting the Eldunarí with him to maintain control over Jeremiah at such a great distance and yet see fit to punish Eragon. He just needed to hold out thought Eragon. He needed to weaken Galbatorix and kill Jeremiah's body. Moving to his feet, he coughed blood spilling from his lips as he watched Galbatorix walk forward both of his blades in his hands. Eragon watched as they shook violently refusing to let Galbatorix wield them.
"On your knees Eragon!" immediately he was sent onto his knees with a mere cry of the ancient language from Galbatorix. The king stopped before him holding his rebelling swords. Galbatorix pointed Vrangr at him once more. "Let us see what shall happen when I drawn your blood with your own blade."
Eragon gasped at the burning feeling that ran through his entire body as Vrangr's violet edge touched the side of his face, slicing a thin line across his cheek. It felt as if his entire body was burning from the inside out. A cool drop of blood ran down his face and dropped onto the sapphire blade. He watched as it was absorbed by the blade. Then something happened that surprised the both of them. A surge of power erupted from Vrangr, the blade flashed in Galbatorix's right hand causing him to drop it in case it started to burn all of Jeremiah's body. Reacting to the pulse in Vrangr, Brisingr was lit into flames the blue fire not stopping at the hilt but consuming Jeremiah's body that Galbatorix was controlling.
Galbatorix, too, dropped Brisingr from his grasp. Using this moment, Eragon lunged forward grabbing both swords glad to be reunited with them. The moment his hands closed around Vrangr, he felt Arya's warmth flood through him. It was almost like she was there embracing him. A surge of energy flowed from Vrangr and through his body healing every scrape and bruise on his body while restoring his energy. In his right hand Brisingr shined brilliantly in the night the blue flames never going out. He stared at Galbatorix and his displeased expression.
Not slowing, Eragon rushed forward letting his anger get the best of him. He brought Vrangr and Brisingr down slash by slash watching as Galbatorix deflected every blow with the metal arm that made up half of Jeremiah's right arm. No matter how many times the two blades made contact with the metal it refused to give way. It was no doubt protected by Galbatorix's magic. They continued on like that for some time. Eragon would blindly attack Galbatorix to have him deflect blow for blow. Slamming Brisingr down on Galbatorix's right hand, Eragon pushed the limb down and held it down with his strength as best as he could. Then with a flick of Vrangr, he drove it into Jeremiah's right shoulder watching the blade grow with the blood it absorbed. Galbatorix merely stared at Eragon as if it was child's play.
"You must understand Eragon that this body does not belong to me," he reached up with Jeremiah's left hand and gripped the blade of Vrangr. "Therefore whatever pain you inflict on it shall not reach me." With a tug, he pulled Vrangr out and at the same time pushed back Brisingr causing Eragon to stumble. Then as if unsatisfied with his fight, he brought his right hand up and slammed it in Eragon's gut throwing him backwards. "Is that the extent of your power?"
Falling down a few steps, he coughed rapidly moving to his feet as Galbatorix reached out with his left hand and held it over his right. He muttered some words and Eragon watched as the metal of the hand shifted turning and changing until it solidified into a thin, pale sword. He was ready when Galbatorix attacked him. Using Brisingr to ward off the attack, he brought Vrangr down to have it meet the pale blade that was now Galbatorix's right hand. Eragon jumped back trying to give himself space. He dodged another blow to his head hearing the wall behind him shatter to pieces as the sword made contact with the wall. With Brisingr Eragon parried another blow. He threw Galbatorix back glancing at the enclosed street they were in.
He needed open space to fight.
As he continued to retreat, Galbatorix came after him blow for blow all which he blocked or parried. He continued to retreat, letting Galbatorix believe that he was pushing him back. As he blocked bowl for blow, the world began to shift before him once more. He was once more staring into the keep of Feinster.
She had to end this now. It was getting too out of hand. Rolling about the ground with Varaug, Arya struggled to maintain her grip on Támerlein as Murtagh was kneeling on the ground where he once stood trying to keep the Shade distracted with his mental attacks. Letting out a shout, she struck Varaug in the side of his head with the pommel of Támerlein.
The Shade went limp for an instant, and Arya scrambled backward, pushing herself upright. Breathing harshly as Eragon's magic continued to heal her throat, she watched as Murtagh sought to restrain the Shade from moving. Varaug rose onto one knee, then faltered.
"Get him!" Murtagh shouted.
Not needing him to say more, Arya lunged forward, Támerlein flashing in her hand.
And she stabbed the Shade through his heart.
Eragon grunted in pain as he was kicked in the side. He flew once more slamming into iron gates as they emerged into the central courtyard before the heavily guarded keep where the soldiers of Gil'ead and Islanzadí's forces were gathered. The iron gates gave a heave before their hinges came apart from the stone working with the impact of Eragon's body. He flew through the air landing roughly on his side as he rolled to a stop by white hooves. His body was continually beaten and battered only to have Arya's magic heal him once more. His pride in Arya was not diminished despite his circumstance.
"Who are you?" his eyes widened as he heard the rich voice that belonged to Queen Islanzadí. Everyone was frozen as they stared up at Jeremiah or rather Galbatorix. Moving to his feet despite the ache in his body, Eragon reached down to grip his swords as Galbatorix walked down the steps to the keep in a relaxed manner. He stared at the soldiers that protected the keep.
"It is an honor to be in your presence Queen Islanzadí," he addressed her once more using his smooth voice rather than his angered and harsh one. "An honor that you deem me important enough to rally your forces from the protection of your forest and strike against me." Eragon's eyes darted to Islanzadí as she sat atop her noble steed thousands of her warriors stationed behind her. Galbatorix was no match for them not while he was in Jeremiah's body. Islanzadí's emerald eyes hardened.
"So we have in our midst the traitor king," she said coldly.
"Such a harsh greeting," Galbatorix shook his head. He glanced at his troops slightly displeased, "Did you not hear me when I spoke? You must greet our honored guests as your king did." He held out his left hand and immediately the hundreds of soldiers that protected the keep fell to their knees as if a heavy force had bid them do so. "Much better. Once more I welcome you Queen Islanzadí and your forces to Gil'ead. Is the city to your liking?"
"It is undoing of a king to jest when his people are dying by the minute," said Islanzadí coldly gazing at Galbatorix with such a cold expression Eragon was slightly surprised that he did not take pause. "Have you come to protect this fortress?"
Galbatorix merely shook his head, "I have come for the riders that are rightfully mine," at his words the attention was shifted to Eragon before it returned to king Galbatorix. "Now, why have you come Islanzadí Dröttning?"
"In order to topple you from your throne," came her reply. Galbatorix merely shook his head.
"All so rude and after I have greeted you so warmly," said Galbatorix as his appearance changed showing his anger and irritation. "In any case, I do believe that you are not simply here to bring me one step closer to my downfall Islanzadí. No, I believe that part of the reason you wish to see me dead is due to the death that I delivered to your mate, Evandar was it not?" At the mention of the late elf king, a flash of grief appeared on Islanzadí's face. It was so strong that Eragon felt angered that Galbatorix had the audacity to mention how he had killed the late king. The moment the emotion appeared it was gone. "He died valiantly in battle. He refused to surrender when he knew that he could not defeat me or regain the lost city of Iliera. He died a king albeit a foolish king."
Anger passed over Islanzadí's face. Her brows were slanted dangerously and she was glaring at Galbatorix. Eragon felt his grip on his swords tightened as he stared at Galbatorix as the dragons fought overhead. It was deathly quiet except for their roars. He stared at Galbatorix letting his words sink in. Deep down in him, it was as if something within his soul had come forth pouring out from him. He felt Arya's emotions stronger than ever as Galbatorix spoke about her late father in such a condescending tone. He felt her soul pulse through his own, the strength of it pouring through every vein in his body until it reached the pommel of Vrangr. He watched as the sword reacted to Arya's spirit.
That was when his body moved of its own. Rushing forward as if drawn towards Galbatorix, he felt himself move with much more grace than he usually did. He had the urge to resist the force that was pulling him forward but then a voice within his head surprise him. Fight with me Eragon.
Arya? He was so surprised that he did not notice Brisingr swinging down on top of Jeremiah with such force that when it met the pale blade on Jeremiah's right arm a note resonated from the point where they met nearly deafening Eragon. How did you…?
If Galbatorix can control Jeremiah from Urû'baen than the two of us can fight together for our souls are one. Do not resist me Eragon, it is already difficult as it is to reach out to you from such a great distance.
He nodded and rather than opening his mind to her, he opened his soul to her. Feeling her spirit merge with him to the very tips of his fingers, Eragon fought with his right arm while he let Arya swing his left the two of them using his body to coordinate their attack. Ignoring the soldiers as they came to assist, Eragon rushed forward refusing to let Galbatorix regain his step. He had already been in Jeremiah's body for a prolonged period of time and his strength was surely waning. While Eragon's fighting style was more predictable, with Arya's help his fighting style was a combined mix of his strength and her speed. She saw every opening that he couldn't helping him to protect himself from Galbatorix.
Behind him he heard Islanzadí's orders, "Forward!" There was a rhythmic sound of footsteps before he heard Galbatorix's warriors release their own battle-cries as the two armies met. Running forward, Eragon was able to land a deep gash on Jeremiah's leg causing Galbatorix to stumble. His attacks were faltering.
In order to defend himself, Galbatorix let out a yell throwing him against the wall of the keep in surprise. He felt his bone ached from the jarring impact grunting. Eragon, does it hurt much? He heard Arya's concern for him echo in his mind and once more her magic came forth to heal him and with her emotions within his heart, he felt her deep worry mixed within her love for him.
I'm fine, Eragon stood huffing. His eyes searched for Galbatorix widening when he saw that Islanzadí had taken leave of her steed and was fighting on foot with Galbatorix. It seemed as if his words really did bring out her anger. He watched as she fought with great speed and strength never tiring. No doubt the elves were channeling their strength into her. Watching as she pull back, Eragon saw Galbatorix reach for his magic.
Mother! Arya reacted within him and with their combined speed, Eragon's body lurched forward. Not giving any thought to his own safety, Brisingr surged forward and sliced right through Jeremiah's left hand preventing Galbatorix to cast his spell. He grunted when he felt the pale blade of his right arm dig into his thigh. Immediately in retaliation, Arya brought Vrangr down on his right shoulder severing his arm. There was a howl of pain and Eragon knew that Galbatorix was currently withdrawing from Jeremiah.
He had lost to them.
Stumbling backwards, Jeremiah or Galbatorix slid their hand off of Brisingr reaching up to grab the stump of what used to be his right arm. As Jeremiah continued to stumble, Eragon watched as a beautiful blade emerged from the center of Jeremiah's chest. His eyes widened and his body convulsed. A great roar was released from Jeremiah's body before the corpse slid forward and off of the blade, falling to the ground. Queen Islanzadí stood behind Jeremiah staring down at his dead body.
Dropping Vrangr, he felt Arya reach down and pull Jeremiah's blade from his left thigh. He could feel her relief at having escaped Galbatorix's dark powers. We are not done yet, said Eragon. We still have to capture Cadmaran.
I know, he glanced down at his leg feeling her warm magic caress his wound. As he stared down at the gaping hole, he could see Arya before him. She was kneeling and her hand was held against his bleeding thigh. The wound closed up. When she was done she stood before embracing him. The warmth of the embrace moved his heart. He couldn't feel her physically but he knew she was there.
Thank you for saving me, said Eragon as he leaned down to pick up his Vrangr. It pulsed as if listening to his thoughts. Above them, he heard a roar of pure triumph from Glaedr and Saphira. Glancing up, he saw the last pieces of the rotting flesh fall from the sky revealing a bright glowing object. An Eldunarí! Then it was gone as Glaedr's jaws closed over it as if to protect it from unwanted eyes. The dragons had won.
Letting out another roar, Saphira dove forward landing on the tallest spire of the keep before bellowing once more. Following her lead, Glaedr swooped down from below striking terror into the hearts of the Empire. Eragon, it was Arya. I do not have enough strength to maintain our connection. Help my mother conquer Gil'ead.
I will.
Her thoughts were fading as she spoke once more, and come back to me, Eragon. I will be waiting for you. Though the strength of her consciousness and spirit lessened, he could still feel her within him. When he was down in Gil'ead he was going to fly straight to her side and hopefully they would be able to understand their connection even more. He saw Islanzadí waiting for him by the entrance of the keep. Her emerald eyes were lit with the fierceness of battle. "Your Majesty," greeted Eragon as he stopped by her side. She regarded him for a moment as she stood with her best warriors, he spotted Däthedr by her right hand side.
"Lead us onward Eragon," she gestured to the keep. His eyes glanced towards Jeremiah wandering where the Eldunarí he had were before nodding. With Vrangr, he melted the hinges of the door with its violet edge and kicked the door open before leading them inside the keep. They had to capture Cadmaran and force his surrender to win Gil'ead.
Arya was waiting for him.
So what do you think? Normally I wouldn't mind just paving through to the next chapter but your reviews for this chapter will be greatly appreciated since almost all of it is from scratch. Galbatorix is surprisingly a long talker in the original and I hope that I have captured an essence of his character well enough. He's like the overbearing, evil man or something. Anyways, I am a hard worker aren't I? I posted this a little earlier than normal so for those who get off of work and turn on their computers, you will see this new chapter up and ready! See you all soon!