Chapter 22: What the F*ck Am I Doing?

He considered his arm, from just below his shoulder, where a set of nails had left deep gouges into the flesh, his forearm, which had a few scratches and a bruise, and his fingers, two out of five of which looked as if someone had tried to bite them off.

That's what he deserved, he supposed, for shoving them in someone else's mouth.

Eragon chuckled, then choked, or was it a sob? "What the fuck am I doing?" he asked… someone. Maybe himself, maybe god, maybe he was just hoping someone would answer. No one did.

Yesterday he had nearly lost control over something stupid, he had hurt his dragon and he had… well, royally fucked things up was an appropriate phrase, he supposed. In more ways than one.

He stood, not sure where he was going, and quickly managed to stub his toe on the handle of Zar'roc, that was what set him off, that was it, stubbing his fucking toe was enough. In truth it was a good thing it did, otherwise this could've happened elsewhere, somewhere less private… somewhere with more people to hurt.

He grabbed the blade, yanking it out of its sheath, tossed the sheath hard at a wall, then started smacking the blade into the nearest lump of wood he could find. Not on the blade, on the flat, he was trying to damage it. There was no progress so he just threw it, it stabbed into the wall, pretty far up, halfway in and stayed there.

Clothes were thrown about angrily and haphazardly, Saphira's saddles, he kicked down the door to his rooms then let his anger guide him upstairs to the study. He smashed the desk barehanded, pummeling splintered chunks from the thick wood, throwing about the parchment and quills, ripping half of it up.

He leapt down the stairs and grabbed his other sword, cut several steps from the staircase before storming through the broken door into the centre of his rooms. He cut the arms from the pedestal, both of them, walked into the dining room, kicked over two chairs, cut the table in half, and walked back out. He stuck Durza into the wall to his right, just after entering the room, right up to the hilt, it's point was sticking out of the other side.

Then looked around at the destruction he had caused, he was spent.

A sigh escaped his lips at this pointless act of violence, well it made him feel better so maybe it wasn't entirely pointless, and he wandered away from the scene, into the bathing chamber.

He was naked, as he had been when he woke up, as he had been as he tore through his own home, and just fell into the bowl, and not on purpose either.

There was blood dripping from his nose now, dried blood and scabs and bruises covered him generously, all of his back, his arms, his chest, his neck, his butt, and his thighs. He hit a nozzle, cold water rushing in, and shivered, hitting the other one so that burning hot accompanied the rather cool, and just lay there while it filled… and then over filled and overflowed.

He turned it off once the water had spilled from the room and into the central lobby of his rooms and just lay there in the lukewarm water.

"What the fuck am I doing?"

He cursed, blaming everything, blaming this damn forest, blaming those damn elves, realising that he's lost sight of… everything. Of Saphira, of his purpose, he wasn't some monster who would kill for no reason, he was a weapon forged to end the life of Galbatorix, he was Saphira's Rider, he was the last Dragon Rider, period, the first Shade Rider, and his name was Eragon.

He chuckled, and sobbed, both at the same time, finally coming around to blame the person responsible… himself.

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Vanir waited patiently, he honestly did not know whether the Rider would arrive or not, but Oromis had asked him to spar with the Rider and had not yet rescinded that request, despite Vanir's actions, so he would wait here at the training field, until such a time as he was convinced Eragon would not be coming.

But the Rider did come.

He was something of a spectacle, Vanir mused as half the elves on the training field stopped to glance at him, and the other half still glanced but didn't stop. Even without his Dragon, Eragon commanded people's attention, though this time for very different reasons.

His rather… bedraggled appearance being the reason this time.

There were scratches on his face, and a mark that was clearly from a slap. His neck looked worse, with a hard bite that was still bleeding a little. His shirt was ripped, the entire left arm had been torn off and it was ripped a little about the neck too, though it was not so bad there. It did serve to expose more injuries however.

His trousers were fine though, but he wasn't wearing shoes, his bare feet stomping the ground as he wandered over.

He must've caught sight of Vanir earlier as he didn't glance at the elf but still walked over to him, instead his gaze was elsewhere, on the other training pairs and groups, he spent a minute watching a half dozen elves practising archery, two of them competed against one another, the others worked alone.

"Eragon-elda" he said respectfully, touching his lips, speaking the words and inclining his head slightly.

He had been brutally shamed yesterday, horribly so even, the amount of violence Eragon had demonstrated far exceeded what was necessary, even given Vanir's insults, and indeed it had cost Eragon the respect of several elves, and damaged the respect others had of him.

Vanir on the other hand had had no respect for him, and now found himself with more than most.

Regardless of whether or not the Rider was a good man, a fair man, or a just man, he was a skilled man. His strength and speed were certainly not human, and more than a match for an elf, and his skill with a blade exceeded Vanir's immensely, and Vanir was considered, by himself and others, to be very skilled with a blade.

That didn't mean that Vanir now thought the world of him, he still believed an elf would've been the better choice, as Eragon had personal flaws aplenty. But he was a strong, and that was something.

The Rider grunted in response.

Vanir noticed then the lack of sword the Rider had "Your sword, Rider?" he asked curiously "You do not have it with you?"

Eragon frowned at him and glanced at his waist "Oh…" he said, genuinely surprised "Knew I forgot something."

"Ah…" he considered briefly what to do, he wasn't about to order Eragon to retrieve his sword. He liked his face un-tenderised, briefly he considered suggesting hand-to-hand, but then, as said, he liked his face un-tenderised.

'Maybe I could find him a bow, and we could practise archery' he mused, but his thoughts were cut off by the approach of a young elven woman, with long flowing silver tresses, and an eye of bright yellow, and another bright red.

Her bright red eye was rather… pathetic, in truth. At least, when one compared it to the Rider's crimson gaze. Her red eye looked like coloured glass compared to rubies… badly coloured glass too, made by a pretty shit glassmaker as well. In other words the elven lady's eye, crafted by magic, paled in comparison with the Rider's, crafted by… some means Vanir didn't know of.

Humans didn't naturally have red eyes did they?

But truthfully all of this was besides the point, and he refocused to find the elf shooting him a faint smile while offering her sword to the Rider "Rider, I am finished with my training for the day, if you wish you may make use of my sword."

Eragon yawned, taking the sword and considered it a moment, checking its balance and slashing through the air once or twice, he nodded, looking less distracted now and more intent "Thank you…"

"Qiana" she said, touching two fingers to her lips.

"Eragon" he responded, not returning the gesture.

Vanir readied himself, guarding the edge of his blade this time and waiting as Eragon did the same. Qiana had stepped back and entered the shadow of the tree from where she sat and watched. Vanir wondered if she expected a similar show to the last time. Hopefully that would not be the case.

And it wasn't.

Eragon was not exactly nice to him, he hit him hard and gave few mercies, but he always stopped when Vanir dropped his sword or fell. It was a challenge fighting the Rider, as before his every flaw was a trap, or at least when Vanir struck them Eragon responded quickly enough that it became a trap, and his guard was otherwise impenetrable, while Eragon could literally beat Vanir's guard down, with nothing more than force.

Vanir felt his respect for the princess, Arya, rise considerably. Eragon hadn't held back against her, yet she matched him. How he wasn't sure, she subverted a lot of his attack, turned blows to glances and forced him to overstretch himself to get to her, as she dodged, and parried and avoided his assault.

He lacked her skill, and perhaps experience too, and thus his showing was rather pathetic in comparison.

Eragon did not complain.

At the end of the hour Eragon had even begun working up a sweat, while Vanir was doing so profusely. The Rider offered him a nod, and handed the sword back to Qiana, who made her way back over to them. He even bothered to say farewell to the two of them before leaving.

Vanir removed the guard on the edge and sheathed his sword, breathing heavily, while the Rider walked away.

Qiana sheathed her own sword as she watched the Rider too, then strode past him with a wry smile on her face.

She walked to a pair of elves who greeted her fondly, with more familiarity than politeness, and she muttered, in such a way that she knew Vanir could hear her "Well, at least he didn't beat Vanir's face into a bloody pulp this time."

That… ground on his nerves more than a little and a part of him considered challenging her to do better against the Rider, or to just a fight, but Vanir calmed himself down. Such a battle would be fruitless, pointless and only serve to lower everyone's opinion of him, more so than it already had been.

And anyway, at least Eragon didn't beat his face into a bloody pulp this time.

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Oromis considered his young apprentice as he arrived, well after the time Oromis would have expected him, but this was to be expected as the boy, today, lacked a dragon to accelerate his arrival, and Oromis's home was not close to Ellesmera.

He was sweating, and breathing rather heavily too, and Oromis wondered if he had been running before he had been within Oromis's range of detection.. It would be like him, well, it would and it would not. It would be like him to hide any attempt at politeness he happened to perform, but it would be unlike him to have any politeness whatsoever.

He was also rather… odd, in terms of his appearance. Or damaged at least. One of his sleeves had been torn off, and the neck of his tunic was a little ripped too. Eragon was also rather damaged. Covered in scratches, some bruises, and a few bites, and they weren't from wolves or other beasts, they were clearly from an elvenoid.

He wondered if the boy had found a partner to 'work off some stress', and amused himself by considering who would be most likely to be his partner. He also considered that they may be self inflicted, but then… well, Eragon was far more acrobatic than he had displayed, as biting his own neck was not a feat that even Oromis could do.

He doubted Eragon had forced himself on someone… well, he hoped anyway, and there wasn't a small army marching from Ellesmera or any real news from the capital, so it was unlikely. No disappearances or deaths, nothing out of the ordinary. He supposed the… victim could have simply kept quiet, but… well, as said before, he hoped that this was purely fantasy. Believed even.

The young man came to a stop in front of him, as he stood in front of his hut, arms clasped behind his back, where he had been stood since he had sensed Eragon's presence nearing.

They considered one another for a minute, before Oromis smiled "It is good to see you well, Eragon" he said kindly.

Eragon shrugged.

"But you are not entirely, are you?" he continued when his apprentice did not "Understandable, considering yesterday's events… Do you wish to talk of them Eragon?"

The boy struggled, before shrugging again.

Oromis would not accept this answer however "Eragon, you have a choice here, we can continue your education, as if nothing has happened… or we can talk. It is entirely your decision, I will not choose one way or another."

Eragon bit his lip, stopped and snarled when he noticed what he was doing, fidgeted with one of his hands, before finally walked determinedly past Oromis "I need a drink… we can talk while I do that."

A smile touched the elderly Rider's face.

By the time he entered, but a few moments after the young man, Eragon had already found a bottle of mead that Oromis had hidden away somewhere, in truth even he wasn't sure where that had come from but then his house did have many little hidey holes where things were stored, some secret, others precious, some just embarrassing.

He had also found and filled two wooden tankards, and as Oromis entered he shoved a tankard over to where the elf sat, keeping the bottle and one of the cups for himself.

Oromis sat, took a sip and found it to be a rather nice mead, the kind he would hide away for special occasions. Which reminded him, he had a bottle of wine somewhere he had been saving for the Agaeti Blodhren, he had to find it at some point, which may take a while.

Eragon took a gulp, but said nothing.

He was waiting for Oromis to start, and so Oromis would, there was little point to a contest of patience at this point. The elderly elf already knew that he would win, the young man was far too impatient.

"Yesterday, you went off to meditate, and then came back in… well, a state, let's say" he said, voicing his own knowledge of the situation to start it off "I believe you mentioned a squirrel as well?"

Eragon nodded, took another gulp, then placed the wooden tankard down on the table "I was… I was meditating, doing the thing you told me to, opening my mind" Oromis also nodded, this too he knew, for Eragon had said it "And then… I… Earlier" he said, glancing out the window, seemingly changing the subject "I heard a voice. I thought it was Glaedr, but it wasn't. It was them, I started thinking about it then. Then… the squirrel was in front of me, it was looking at me" Eragon looked at Oromis "It was looking at me, with my eyes."

Oromis's eyes widened, but he was quick to take control of his expression, and instead clasped his hands around the tankard and sipped again, the golden liquid instead sloshing about as he moved it. He didn't speak, for he was too busy thinking, but Eragon continued.

"I didn't know what to do so… I killed it" Oromis didn't even blink, he had honestly expected it, in truth. With no idea on how else to respond, violence came easily to mind and also was typically easy to perform "And then… once I was done… I could hear them. They were talking, laughing, it… it was so loud."

Eragon's hands shook a moment, so he put the cup down and hid his traitorous hands under the table.

"So I headed back here. You know what happened then."

Oromis still didn't speak, even now that Eragon was done, still considering… everything "Can you replicate what you did?" he asked suddenly.

Eragon blinked "Um… I haven't tried."

He nodded "And what exactly did you do? To the squirrel, I mean."

"Nothing, I just looked inside its head, then moved on."

"You didn't leave anything, didn't impart any knowledge, at least that you are aware of?"

"No, not that I am aware of" he agreed.

Again Oromis nodded "I see. So due to this incident, you became angered, and this caused you to… lose control?" Eragon shrugged "I see… tied to turbulent emotions perhaps, or to a specific one" he considered that a moment, but then filed it away for later consideration "I want you to try, to do whatever you did yesterday."

Eragon blinked, gulped and then spoke "Try? On?"

Oromis hadn't actually considered that, and scowled now that he did. He could, and would, offer up himself, were that not irresponsible, and idiotic. But could he offer up someone else's life if he was not willing to give his own?

In this case, Oromis decided that yes he could. It was not morally conscienable, but it was logically sound. This had the potential to occur again, with possibly as disastrous or even more so results, learning about the phenomenon and coming to understand it was important. Did he have any right to decide that this was more important than someone's life? No… but he had the power too, and he had decided it was the right thing to do.

And unfortunately, in this situation that was all that mattered.

He found and called a sparrow to him, watching it fly in through the window, lured by the promise of food, and the promise that he would not harm the bird. He gave the food he promised, then imprisoned it in his fingers, not harming or damaging, but trapping all the same.

Oromis would not harm the bird… but he would not protect it.

The elfs entire body shivered as he did this, this was wrong, he knew it, but it had to be done.

"Eragon" he said calmly.

Eragon stared at the bird, licked his lips, then Oromis felt him reach out with his mind. He touched Eragon's mind with his own, and the birds, but remained only a spectator, able to observe but with a fair distance that he would be warned before any harm came his way. Eragon spent several moments in the birds mind, several more looking away, then looking back, and Oromis felt his confusion.

Truthfully he had no idea how he had done it, and Oromis knew that, but he needed to know how it was done.

The bird was thoroughly unhappy, it struggled, it squeaked, but Oromis did not let go. The intrusion into its skull was noticed, and none too gentle, and it was not painless. Oromis did not let go. When Eragon got angry and thumped the table, terrifying the little bird, Oromis still did not let go.

Then he felt it, it was sudden, there for a moment and gone in the next, a presence in Eragon's mind, a presence that felt just like a dragon. It was inside Eragon's own mind but separate, similar, he supposed, to looking to Saphira through Eragon, but at the same time very different, it was inside Eragon, as opposed to through Eragon.

And then he felt something far worse, he felt Eragon pull something from the depths of his mind and shove it into the bird, the bird squeaked and squawked and struggled, and then became very still.

Oromis looked down, and found the bird staring forwards with bloody red eyes, before it starting twitching violently, squawking, shaking, shifting.

He heard Eragon roar, and felt Eragon tear apart the birds mind, ripping whatever he had placed there out and shutting it away again in the confines of his mind, burying it deep and then stamping it down further still.

It was dead, as good as dead, brain dead. It would no longer move, or make any of the actions needed towards its survival. It could be kept alive, but the damage to its mind was catastrophic, and Oromis felt no remorse as he snapped its neck. For all the actions he had taken that lead directly to the poor creatures situation, for those he felt remorse, and a great deal of it.

As to his promise not to harm it, that was easily side stepped. He did not harm the bird, he merely ended its life. There was a difference. The flaws of the ancient language had always amused him, but not in this situation.

He placed the bird down on the table, he would bury it, and sing a tree over its grave later, it was a meaningless gesture, and the bird would in no way appreciate it. But he would do it all the same.

But then his attention focused on Eragon who was pulling at his hair, and breathing heavily.

"Eragon?" he asked gently, hoping this had not once again triggered the same… problem as yesterday.

"I made it into a Shade" Eragon told him angrily, spitting unintentionally over Oromis's table as he practically shouted the words. Oromis nodded calmly, that did seem to be what occurred "I took a spirit from my mind, ripped it out like you rip out a tooth, then stuck it in… that" Eragon's breathing was not regular, and… was he crying? "I think I'm gonna be sick" the Rider said rubbing his eyes on his sleeve, his one good sleeve.

So now the question became, 'Why did it occur yesterday?', as clearly it took some force of will for Eragon to perform the… act, it was not something he could have done accidently. Was it the Shade inside Eragon, Legion? Did it have a hand in it? Could it even affect something like that without Eragon's knowledge? Because if so that was also cause for concern.

And he had a good place to start his inquiries, and with something Eragon might even know.

"I have been meaning to discuss it with you for a while" Oromis said softly "The mental battle we fought when you first absorbed Durza's spirits, more importantly the being I felt just then. I planned on broaching the subject at the same time as I began schooling you on attacking and defending with your mind, but now is as good a time as any… Do you know what it is?"

Eragon shrugged "I… I think its a dragon. Sort of."

Oromis didn't speak, silently and motionless gesturing for Eragon to explain further.

Eragon sighed "I first saw it… back when I first became what I am, I fought against the demons, it was… unknown to me. I didn't know what it was, it could've been worse than the demons for all I knew, but I chose my side and fought with it. And then the, I guess the darkness that surrounded it cleared and there was a dragon. A glorious white dragon."

Oromis eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed again "You did not know what it was at first?"

"No."

"But then you saw it as a dragon?"

"Yes" the elf nodded then gestured, using motion this time, for Eragon to continue "It appeared again when Durza's spirits entered me. It tried to coax me out of hiding, like you and Glaedr did. Didn't succeed, unlike you two"

Oromis nodded, he had felt a presence around Eragon's mind then, it had been difficult to pay attention too with all the spirits causing chaos however "Just now… did it speak to you?"

"Sort of. I dunno if you can call that speaking."

"Does it speak to you often?"

"No, that was… the first time actually, since back then, the battle we fought" Eragon explain, seeing the elf's confusion "I honestly don't know what it is. All I know is that it came about around the same time as I became a Shade, and that it's… like a dragon."

Oromis nodded.

"It's also" but Eragon continued, why? Perhaps he realised some ignorance of Oromis, a flaw in the older man's thinking, or maybe he just wanted to verify something "It's not… separate, from me. It's… it's strange. Like something I half forgot rising to the surface, that's what the knowledge it gave me is like."

"It showed you how to do what you just did?"

Eragon nodded distractly "Yeah, I dunno how it knew…" a moment passed and just as Oromis looked away, he spoke again "It was watching."

"What?"

"It was watching, back then… it saw what happened. I saw…" Eragon sighed and rubbed his head "That's how it knew what to do. It watched back then, when Legion did it."

"Did… Can Legion do that?" Oromis asked, subtly raising barriers around his own mind.

Eragon just laughed "It can, but… there's a cost" Eragon paused, taking a moment to, Oromis assumed, gather his thoughts, even those that came from other sources "It's also difficult to explain the cost. It's… unity, is broken. Legion is a single unified… being, the representation of the will of numerous beings. At least that's my understanding."

That was also the general understanding of Shades as well, a single being controlled by multiple beings, most of the time. Shades were not well documented creatures, but Oromis knew of none whom had contained but a single spirit.

"By taking a being from that unified… state, and shoving it in something else, there's disorder, imbalance. Even if that being comes back, there's still chaos, no one's sure where anyone's supposed to be anymore" Eragon frowned "They're weak right now… Legion I mean… it's… weak."

Oromis considered this long and hard "Do you think you could… pluck every spirit from your school and… place them in other beings?" he asked. The idea of reversing a Shade's… well shadiness was fascinating, it would be a first.

"No" but Eragon crushed that idea "What you have to understand is that… there's a link. Like the one between me and Saphira, but…more… dangerous I guess? I don't know, it's…" Eragon grumbled, at his own inability to express his thoughts in words Oromis assumed "The bond between me a Saphira is unifying. It… it's not a normal mental connection like you could form with anyone, like I could do with you right now. I guess it's more like what those twins had, we're dependant on each other, we need one another. But with me and Legion… it's like we're constantly fighting each other, it's the same as me and Saphira but we're constantly trying to prove… no, to obtain dominance over the other. Dominance which I currently have."

Eragon stopped to take a gulp of mead, and finished the still half full tankard in one go.

"So, if I put the spirits in others bodies, it doesn't… remove the connection. It's like a leash I guess, it can never get too far away from me, and I can always drag it back… that's not entirely right as I don't drag it back, it just comes back… Look I don't know, figure it out yourself."

Oromis nodded, he was already trying to do that "Could you tell me what you remembering of Durza transforming you into a Shade?" he asked Eragon, as gently as he could.

It was a sensitive topic for the boy, he understood that, and he had no desire to pick at the boys unhealed wounds, even those inflicted to his pride, but he, unfortunately, had need to do precisely that.

"I… well… I don't know much."

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Eragon had a headache. Oromis had been questioning him on various things, from his knowledge of Shade's, to his experiences, to the descriptions of the demons he had seen, all of them, everything and anything inbetween, and it was not particularly pleasant.

But finally the topic seemed to be winding down, Oromis's questions slowed, and became significantly less complex "And what of the dragon" the elf asked after a long pause "The one in your head. What is his role in your's and Legion's combative relationship?"

"He's…" Eragon frowned "He's my 'ally' I guess…" Eragon shrugged, he wasn't sure how to refer to all these beings inside his own head, they weren't as separate as he made it sound, they were all… mixed in a little. There was no delineation really, where Eragon started and Legion began was not a line, and where the dragon fitted into all of this was just as confusing, if not more so.

And, needless to saying, thinking, and knowing, that that there wasn't even a line between you, and the monster inside your head, was not a comforting thought.

Oromis nodded again "I understand, a little better."

"Good… then… let's move on" Eragon said. He was uncomfortable with this subject now, it wasn't fun, it hadn't been at the start, but they'd covered what they needed to cover, and now he just wanted to leave it alone.

"Very well" the elf glanced outside "It would seem we have spoken for a while. Either way, I had planned to skip the Rimgar, and your meditation for today, we have time to make up on. I expect you to do both in your own time" Oromis stated firmly, entering 'teacher mode'.

"Great."

Oromis smiled "Good to see you're enthusiastic, so let us begin."

Eragon's headache was gonna get worse, he could tell.

Their study of the ancient language carried them through lunch, though they did not stop. Eragon could see that Oromis was quietly pleased with his zeal and dedication, perhaps even thinking that he he putting in more effort to compensate for the time lost. Truth was he was happy for something to take his mind off of the events of yesterday, all of them.

They moved on once Oromis was satisfied, onto magic. They left the hut and headed outside, and Oromis spent much time speaking of the correct way to control various forms of energy, sometimes with examples, sometimes he would provide Eragon with spells to example himself, sometimes he would just ask Eragon to do something and let him figure out how to do what was expected of him.

Light, heat, lightning, which for some reason Oromis referred to as 'electricity' even though it was clearly lightning, and even a new concept, gravity, which Oromis had to explain several times before Eragon fully understood it, where some of the most energy consuming spells to use, it was better to find examples of them in nature and shape them, empower, enhance, and affect their properties so that they suited ones needs.

Of course gravity was at a constant, at least it was on the ball of dirt drifting through a vast nothingness that they currently resided upon… yeah, Eragon was still trying to get his head around that.

At some point during the lecture he asked Eragon a very simple question "How would you kill with magic?"

Eragon blinked "Um… by doing something that would kill the fucker? Blow their head off, pull the air from their lungs, shot a stone through the heart. Something like that."

Oromis nodded "Have you considered more efficient methods?"

"Such as."

Oromis smiled grimly "What does it take to kill a man? A sword to the heart? A beheading? The loss of blood? No. All it takes is a single artery in the brain to be pinched, or for certain nerves to be severed. You could kill a man with no more effort than moving your finger, and like that, you could massacre an army."

Eragon considered him for a moment "Not very stylish though. Just having everyone drop dead… kinda terrifying really. I mean, say what you will about efficiency, but at least people don't worry about dropping dead randomly when I set all their enemies on fire. Fire they understand, magic they don't."

The elf nodded "You're right, and thus such magics need to be used cautiously, lest fear grips the hearts of men and turns them against you."

"But" Eragon frowned "If it's so easy to kill… why bother with armies? Seems wasteful."

Oromis smiled again "Because that is the way battles are fought, I suppose. With armies, with tactics. Most magicians are not… as physically adept as warriors, and are vulnerable while they conduct their mental battles. Thus warriors are a weakness of theirs, and thus they need warriors to protect them from warriors. The warriors, in turn, must be shielded from magic, else they could be decimated. Thus battles became extended, more tests of endurance than skill or power, unless the difference is truly that vast."

Eragon nodded.

"But remember of course, that most magicians who have such power are likely hunting their rivals, as opposed to slaughtering the rank and file, and the number with that kind of power are… few, very few."

"What do you mean?"

Oromis gestured for him to elaborate.

"The number with that kind of power? How is that a factor? It takes the same amount of power to perform a task for me as it would for you? And you can train yourself to be more… physically adept and therefore have more power, there would be a limit but it's possible… right?"

"True, but… it is complex. We" he gestured between the two of them "are unnaturally gifted Eragon, due to our bonding with our dragons, we are gifted with a little of their attunement to magic, I believe. For others the process is harder. Immersing oneself in the flow of energy is more difficult, and so magicians who could pose a threat to an entire army are few and far between, and…" Oromis paused to emphasize this point "This knowledge… understanding that magic can be used in such a way, is not common. It does not take a brilliant mind to figure it out true, but those who do are still rare, requiring knowledge of biology, the correct level of power, and the correct words, as well as the malice or need to murder numerous being all at once. Having all of them is not particularly common at all."

Eragon 'hmm'd' in response.

"How do you protect an army?" Eragon asked "Guard them against magic till I say so?" he pondered the wording.

"That would not work. It is too… restrictive, and ends up being self devouring. Guard them against magic, but are you not using magic on them to guard them, better guard them from that too, thus the snake bites its own tail. One might might be able to utilise it as a spell, but it would require focus, else the meaning of the words would cause the spell to consume itself. A better spell would be 'Be a shield against the effects of malicious magic', and then you would need a get out clause, and it would likely need further refinement, for it is a little too general. But it is not impractical."

"Ok… so you can use magic to protect yourself? Permanently… sort of."

Oromis frowned "You… Eragon, let me ask you something. What do you know of wards?"

"Um… what?"

"Ah… I see…" the elderly elf frowned, then scowled "Indeed. Wards are magic, they are intended to protect, not specifically oneself, not specifically a being. But they are semi-permanent, most of the time. It is best to not have a ward that is permanent though, as it has the potential to kill you." you."

"Oh."

Oromis looked away, and his eyes glassed over, then he focused back sharply "You will likely be annoyed to learn that the Twins of the Varden stated you were competent in all magic, including wards. They sent you into the fight against the Urgals, and Durza, unwarded, otherwise Arya, or the Twins themselves, would've been expected to do so."

"Urgals have wizards" Eragon was far more interesting in that however, then a frown creased his brow before it faded "Oh yeah, they do, don't they. Huh."

"Did you not encounter them during the fight?"

"Nope."

Oromis frowned "Arya stated she encountered several. None attacked you?"

"Nope."

Oromis frowned, then nodded "I see. Then I would guess that it was the Twins intent to allow you to be captured by Durza. Make his job easier, so to speak. Unfortunately, this means there is yet another thing to teach you. But we are presently on killing, no?" Oromis gave him another grim smile.

"You think the Twins betrayed the Varden?" Eragon asked, ignoring Oromis's statement.

The elf nodded "The Varden's allies were persecuted, with near perfect accuracy. The Twins were likely privy to that information. It is not such a wild leap to assume that they were traitors, indeed it is the most logical explanation. The other is simple malice, they wanted you harmed. But since the Urgal magicians did not attack you, it was likely coordinated."

"Huh… bastards."

"Indeed. Shall we?"

They continued for a long while, indeed the sun was dropping in the sky, casting orange rays across them, when Oromis finally paused and said "I think I have had enough of teaching you murder for the day."

Eragon nodded as he practised on blades of grass "Master" he said, making the elf pause as he had been about to leave.

"Yes?"

"Do you know what the Ra'zac are?"

Oromis felt himself smile a little smile. Another on Eragon's list of revenge, he had already asked about Galbatorix… who Galbatorix was, and how to kill him, now the Ra'zac. Then again, he had also asked who Oromis was.

"The Ra'zac are a strange race, they followed your ancestors across the sea, they hunt humans, it is… what they are designed for the Riders learned of their existence, and all attempts at peace were ignored, indeed they murdered several of ours…" Oromis paused "So we tried to eradicate them."

"Doesn't sound like you."

"It wasn't, not me at least" Oromis said somberly, speaking of the near genocide of a species was not something he could take pleasure in, Eragon supposed "But it was a decision the Rider's made, perhaps it was an unwise one. Perhaps we should've sought to parlay, sought peace with them. But we didn't. We nearly succeeded in our attempt to destroy the race, but two survived. It is they, and their pupae, which have caused you so much grief."

Eragon nodded "Pupae?"

"Ah, I suppose I have not explained their physiology have I? Or what we understand of it at the very least. The Ra'zac are no species known, they are not man, or elf or dwarf, or fish or fauna, of any kind we know. They are built, purpose built even, to hunt man, it is even theorised that it was they who caused King Palancar to emigrate to Alagaesia. They reproduce by laying eggs, from that eggs hatches… a chick, I suppose. But the chick grows a body, a black exoskeleton, like a beetle's, that mimics a man's. As I said they are purpose built to hunt men, and hunt men when they are weakest, they can see well in the dark, track scents like a bloodhound, they are faster than men too. Their greatest weapon is their evil breath, it fogs the minds of humans, though it is less potent on dwarfs, and elves are altogether immune. Bright light pains them" he continued "And they fear deep water for they cannot swim. They cannot use magic, but they are expert hunters" Oromis looked at Eragon intently "If they learn you hunt them, they will hide, stick to the shadows, until they can ambush you, as they did at Dras-Leona."

Eragon nodded, it didn't matter. They were going to die.

"They remain in this human form for twenty years, where, upon the first full moon, they had the husk, spread their wings, and emerge as adults ready to hunt all creatures, not just humans."

"Dragons?!" Eragon said almost excitedly.

"Not quite" the old elf said, smiling in amusement "Though… the connection is possible but presently unfounded" he said, rather diplomatically. Eragon supposed Glaedr didn't like being compared to Ra'zac, understandable.

Eragon pouted "Are they also Ra'zac… called Ra'zac I mean?"

"We call them Lethrblaka, leather flapper. They are… more intelligent than their offspring, they have all the intellect of a dragon, a cruel, twisted, imitation of a dragon."

He nodded, he had been interested in them, and they were fascinating. But they would die. Like Galbatorix, for all his sympathy, Eragon would still kill the Black King. There would be no question of that.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The day ended and Eragon had a final query for his the elderly Rider "How do you fix a treehouse?"

With his… outburst skimmed around, but the situation explained Oromis, who decided, out loud and in front of him, to not comment on the antiquity of the rooms Eragon had damaged, stated he would fix the rooms as teaching Eragon how would take several days. With that done he told the young man to go outside, and that he would join him in a second.

Eragon knew why.

Saphira landed moment after he walked to the cliff edge, she considered him for a long moment.

"Glaedr get rid of you?" he asked casually, not sure how to start.

Saphira shrugged 'He said he wished to hunt… he would not let me join.'

Eragon chuckled "Old bastards."

'What do you…' she frowned as she realised. Their masters were trying to get them to reconcile, or at least talk… And honestly, Saphira was grateful for that 'Eragon… I…' but that didn't mean she knew what to say 'You look tired' she felt like hitting herself at the small talk she was forced to make.

"I feel it" Eragon told her… he said nothing for a moment "I love you" and then spoke, calmly and simply, and he felt Saphira's heart lift at his statement "But nothing I said yesterday was a lie."

And was shattered into pieces 'That's…' Saphira felt a lump in her throat and swallowed it back, she wasn't going to cry. She wasn't 'I understand.'

Eragon growled "No!"

'What?'

"NO!" he snapped "Don't understand. Get angry, get pissed, shout at me, hit me, stop being such an understanding little bitch. Is this how you reconcile Saphira? By accepting every issue? FUCK OFF!" Eragon kicked a tree, hard "I hate you Saphira. You're needy, you're pushy, you mother me like I'm a fucking child, it's so bloody annoying. I'M OLDER THAN YOU! Stop acting like you're better than me!" Eragon shouted.

Saphira pulled back, shocked by the bite in his voice, then she got angry 'Well fuck you too, you're rash, you cause me nothing but problems and worries…'

"I never asked for you to worry about me!"

'WELL I DO!' she shouted back 'You treat me like a side note, like a toy. You play with me until something interesting happens, then you're gone speaking to someone more important. You ARE a child, an ignorant fucking child. You say you're older than me, then ACT LIKE IT' they were nose to nose now, anger in both of them.

Eragon laughed bitterly "You said that and yet keep coddling me. You don't want me to make my own mistakes, you want to protect me from it all. I'm an ignorant child? Then you made me one. If you stopped protecting me for a single fucking second, maybe we wouldn't be in the mess we're in.

'Everytime I stop protecting you terrible things occur, Yazuac, Dras Leona, Gil'ead. And like you're any different! You want me to stop protecting you, stop protecting me. STOP worrying about me, you're a measly little human, I worry about you, NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND!'

"I'm not human at all" he said coldly.

'That isn't…' she started.

"I haven't been" he continued, ignoring her "Not since I first touched you, Saphira. You made me inhuman. Afterwards I only became more so."

She recoiled.

"You fucked my entire life, Dragon" she flinched. So now he wouldn't even speak her name "My uncle's dead, my cousin probably hates me, I HAD A LIFE! And you… through no fault of your own, your very existence RUINED my life."

'You… you aren't my Rider anymore. He died back is Gil'ead, you are just his remnants, his corpse, wandering about!' Eragon's smiled grimly 'So what are you so much like him? WHY? WHY DO YOU STILL CARE? WHY ARE YOU STILL SO FUCKING RECKLESS? WHY ARE YOU CONSTANTLY WORRYING ABOUT ME?' she felt tears form in hers eyes 'If you're not my Rider… why do you still love me?'

Eragon laughed, this time there was no bitterness, or anger in it, he found her statement funny "I always love you Saphira… No matter how much I hate you, I will always love you. You're mine, that doesn't change, not because I hate you, not because I'm a monster, not because you think I'm a child."

'The same is true in reverse, you're mine, that won't change because of anything. I… no matter how much you hate me, Eragon, I will always love you.'

He chuckled "You think you need to tell me that?"

She snorted 'You're an idiot' now she was going to start crying, she blinked rapidly forcing them back. Not wanting to appear weak, not even here in front of her Rider, her Rider who truly loved her.

"You're worse."

They laughed a moment, then Eragon placed his hand on her snout "So… truce?" he asked, a hint of uncertainty in his question.

It was difficult to fully understand, but Eragon loved her, he loved her deeply and truly, and he also hated her for all the reasons he had stated. Those feelings weren't opposite, they didn't cancel each other out, he felt them both, but one was stronger, so much stronger. He had hidden his hate because he loved her, just as she hid her grievances with him because of love.

Being so close to another being, knowing them intently, yet them still being foreign. It was a bit like hating yourself, and Saphira could accept that. While she was arrogant and narcissistic in truth she did hate herself, she hated that she wasn't stronger or faster, that she couldn't save Brom, she hated herself for all the pain she had caused Eragon. Her hating those aspects of herself, and thus hating herself wasn't so different than Eragon's hate.

It was still not easy to fully accept that her Rider hated her, and would likely never stop doing so.

But...

'Aye, truce' she placed her clawed hand on his on her nose 'You probably wouldn't last another day without me.'

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Islanzadi sat, surrounded by half the flowers of the world, in a quiet corner of Tialdari Hall.

This was her private area, it was not officially listed as such, indeed anyone could come here and there would be no consequence, but no one did. Their respect for her and her privacy compelling them to keep their distance from this place. She was thankful for it in truth, their obligation giving her a garden that was hers alone.

All the plants she had sung personally, each flower chosen with more deliberation than half the matters of state. Twas not a very large area, in fact it was quite small, but it was closed off by a wall of trees, very separate from aught else, and quiet. Above there was no canopy, allowing sun or moon or star light to spill down. Right now some late sunbeams did not reach all the way down but the light provided was adequate.

The floor was a sea of colour, reds and whites and pinks and purples and oranges and yellows and blues, and the ever present green acting as a background for all else.

When she walked through here the flowers moved out of her way, due to her singing of course, and when she sat then gathered around but beneath her was but soft grass, a perfect seat, better than any throne.

And right now she was singing, but not for the flowers, she was singing something else.

Emerging from one of the many trees that surrounded her, the device she was crafting was formed, and presented to her, the tree gently letting go of what had been created from its own flesh.

A harp, simple yet elegant, small enough to sit in her lap, covered in carvings of vines, fully strung and ready to be played.

The elven queen plucked it from where it had been left, and strummed her fingers along the strings, finding its tuning to her tastes. She let her digits enter a familiar pattern and play a small tune, one her mother had often hummed to her when she was young.

Why had she done what she had done?

It was not entirely incomprehensible, she supposed. There was a pause as she missed a single note in her distraction and starting the tune again from the start. Islanzadi waited until she had returned to the point in the song where she had been, successfully played the missing note, then continued in her thoughts.

She had not taken a lover since Evandar, no one would question if she did, of course, it was perfectly normal for elves to take any number of lovers, sometimes sequentially, sometimes at the same time, it was not even abnormal for them to have none at all, and there was no obligation to remain faithful.

Perhaps that was part of why, how long it had been, it was not as if elves were above base pleasures after all, and it had been so very long a time.

Then there was the man himself, a Rider, certainly the wet dream of many a young elf, and even a few older ones, but he was more than that, he was also a Shade. Did that subtract or add to his appeal? The elf pondered that a moment, before deciding it did both, it all depended on the person looking at him, and their present state of mind.

On the one hand he was a mindless, psychopathic murderous monster, and on the other hand… it was rather unusual, and interesting, and unfortunately, when you lived as long as elves did, unusual and interesting things were not commonplace, and therefore all the more desirable.

It was also not as if he was unattractive, in a… human sort of way. He lacked refined and elegant elven features, instead he was more… crude, blunt even, heavy set with a heavy face, but unlike elves he was 'natural', she supposed was the right word. Beauty was cheap to elves, each had their own view of it true, some more extreme than others, but most had a very generic view of what was attractive. And that made Eragon more attractive in a sense, as he was born with his looks and had limited ability to change them, as opposed to how one looked meaning almost nothing, which was how it tended to be viewed amongst elves.

What else was there? There was his attraction to her daughter she supposed, perhaps she had, in some corner of her mind, been trying to sabotage that relationship, or mayhaps her actions had been in some strange attempt to compete with her child, it was not such a bizarre theory, when one thought of it objectively.

Then there was his attitude towards her, to elves in general, though to a lesser extent. He was crude, rude, he broke the rules of politeness that had guided them for generations, not out of ignorance, but out of will. He had no qualms about speaking his mind, whatever profanity happened to be wallowing there. And he was defiant.

That was definitely something, that defiance. She did not experience defiance often, subversion, polite opposition, quiet and well intentioned resistance, but not outright, confrontational defiance, the likes of which had not been known in elven governance since the Riders seceded from the elven nation.

Islanzadi pondered it as her tune came to an end, looking at it so… detached from the issue itself was far easier than trying to consider her turbulent emotions and the effects they played. She had calmed much since the moment, and that calmness gave her new perspective, but even she dared not delve into those emotions again, for fear of what she might find perhaps, for fear of not understanding was definitely true though.

She regretted it, that much was undoubtedly true, it was a foolish action and one she could only hope did not come back to haunt her.

But she had enjoyed it all the same.


I got so many reviews about Eragon kissing the queen, none of them realised he was gonna fuck her. Hehe, chumps.

So yeah, this is a chapter. I'm still working on 24, but 23 is up to snuff I think, so another one next week hopefully, again unless I decide its horseshit in the time period between now and when its uploaded, which I don't think I will, cause I think 23's ok. Nothing happens in 23, hence its ok.

Seriously, I wrote that entire thing and don't remember a single thing that happened. It's weird, and either means that chapters incredibly boring or nothing happens.

Huh... maybe its not good enough.

Toodles.

P.S: Last chapter we broke 500 reviews, YAY, thanks to all you peeps for reviewing.