Chapter 33: The Red Rider and the Red-Eyed Rider.
Thorn saw the sapphire blue dragon rise from the swathe of men, and littler men, and bigger men too funnily enough, Murtagh had shown him images of them, he thought them foul, so why were the rebels siding with them? They had attacked the rebels, on His Grace's orders true, and the rebels stood for… well, 'justice', didn't they?
Murtagh had told him they did. He had also told him they were stupid. That tearing down the monarchy was a bad idea, that keeping the framework and just replacing the leader was a better plan, not that that would ever happen. Murtagh had few pleasant things to say about the people he himself referred to as the 'good guys'.
Still, she was beautiful. He felt something just looking at her, clad in metal armour, with her scales glinting, it was the same feeling Murtagh felt when Galbatorix invited those 'dancers' to perform for him, when the King sent a 'courtier' to his room, when late at night when he thought Thorn was asleep he would sometimes do 'something'. It was similar though not quite the same, not quite as intense, at least compared to the last time, not at all as intense.
But Saphira was... well, even dripping with blood, some her own, some others, even wounded, she was still an imposing and impressive figure. Fierce and furious. He felt a little sad at having to fight against the only other of his race he had seen besides Shruikan, and Shruikan was not pleasant company.
Her Rider came into view shortly after, and Thorn could see what Murtagh had meant, something he had said when the young man first met the young dragon. He was a far nicer colour than those eyes.
A shiver ran the length of his spine, down to his tail, just bearing witness to them.
They were… difficult to observe, at least for extended periods, beautiful if you wanted to call it that, but terrifying, and bloodthirsty. The man who owned those eyes wanted death and vengeance, and pain and suffering, and those eyes expressed that desire perfectly and made Thorn scared.
He felt Murtagh's mind steady him, offering him his own courage, though Murtagh was scared… scared and nervous and worried and excited and angry and…
Murtagh's feelings were confusing, even for him the being connected to Murtagh on a level so fundamental the line between their beings had been erased, they were distinct but only to a certain point. Even he did not understand Murtagh's feeling right now, though in truth he often found Murtagh's musings difficult to follow, or justify, though he knew they did, from Murtagh's perspective at least.
And who else's perspective was he supposed to care about?
Thorn joined his mind with Murtagh's as the Red-Eyed Rider's mind made contact, smashing into theirs with an incredible burst of force. It was not equal to what with Galbatorix was capable of unleashing, but it was still almost enough to overwhelm his Rider, despite their… assistance.
The Rider's mind was odd, heavy, heavier than Murtagh's, and yet… quiet, almost silent. Murtagh's, and by extention the King's mind, felt like numerous beings were trapped in a singular, this mind, despite being exactly that, did not. It felt singular and focused, yet
It became obvious as they clashed, as they fought in the air, that Saphira was better than him. Murtagh noticed this, and supported as he could with magic, but using magic on such large beings while they were in motion was more difficult than it might seem, even with the mass of strength that he had to draw from.
It didn't help that the Red-Eyed Rider hindered Murtagh's effort, and yet… he did not strike back, as they clashed the Rider's sword never struck out at him, despite having several moments when he could do just that.
He felt the Rider's mind smash into his, ignoring Murtagh. If he was human, he would grin ruefully, he was the weak link here, wasn't he? Compared to Murtagh his defences were flimsy. His own Rider came to his aid, but that meant that his focus on his own defences slipped and the Red-Eyed Rider took advantage of that, striking with increasing force, and such intensity. It was like… Thorn frowned, it was like being assaulted by three minds at once, each with immense mental fortitude of their own, but that wasn't possible, the enemy Rider had but one mind… right?
He tasted Saphira's blood on his tongue as he bit into her tail as she attempted to escaped. She spin, twisting in midair, and breathed sapphire flames upon them. Murtagh split the flames with magic, preventing them from doing aught. But they also covered the dragon's next attempt, her claws striking suddenly from through the flames and cutting into his neck.
They did not cut deep, but he was forced to decend to avoid any further damage.
Thorn watched Saphira through his Rider's eyes, using him to cover his own back, but Saphira did not pursue as he expected, instead the dragon circled above, while the Red-Eyed Rider stared at the battlefield bellow.
He briefly heard it, opening his mind for a single second he heard the Rider communicating with someone. Despite fighting them, despite continuing his assault on their, though thankfully for him mainly Murtagh's, mind, he was still able to hold a conversation with a member of the Varden.
'Thorn!' Murtagh roared. He knew he needed to strike and so flew quick as he could.
Saphira noticed his effort long before he was within range, but it, combined with Murtagh doing his best to strike back, distracted Eragon enough that he could no longer maintain the conversation and was forced to pay attention to them again.
Saphira was slower than him, in the air and on the ground, due to the armour she wore, but that same armour guarded her from any fatal assault he could hit her with… easily hit her with at least, and so he was forced to just lightly injure her, doing less damage than the soldiers already had. He was forced to remember that as Murtagh's own thoughts went there, Eragon and Saphira had fought almost all day, yet were still keeping up with the pair of them.
He felt the Red-Eyed Rider's eyes on him through much of the battle, though his mental assault continued to assault mainly Murtagh, due to Murtagh forcing his attention onto him and off of his dragon. Thorn felt strangely… judged, like he was being compared, and found wanting.
He snarled.
Saphira and he clashed several more times in the air, each time leaving nothing but small marks, until finally, as he landed a nasty cut on Saphira's snout, Eragon himself struck. It was sudden, and he truly did not expect it, but he felt Eragon's sword on his neck, it sliced the flesh, and yet… he could have struck far more fatally.
He roared in pain and seperated, diving and strafing to avoid Saphira, and only realising once he had done this that she had not pursued. They remained above, looking down upon the pair of them. Thorn felt Murtagh's anger build at the feelings the scene invoked. The Rider spun his bloody sword, it glinted in the faint light of evening on the Burning Plains.
'Are you coming?' his mental voice reached both Murtagh and Thorn, as Saphira turned and crossed the river, searching along the west bank, and quickly finding a place to land, a stony platform.
'Murtagh?' Thorn asked, unsure as to what he should do.
'Go' was Murtagh's response.
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Saphira landed a little heavily, the battle had taken a fair bit out of her, but she maintained her dignity. And that was really all that was important.
Eragon leapt from her back, and turned around to her 'Let me…'
'No!' she snapped 'Keep your strength, you can heal me when we're done.'
He scowled, but nodded. She was right, and they both turned to watch as the Red Dragon and his Rider landed on the other side of the plateau.
Saphira had chosen well, it was a smooth and hard, and large enough for two dragons to rest while two menfought with swords.
The Red Rider unbuckled his legs, she felt Eragon's mocking thoughts about using those buckles, while Eragon just hung on fear dear life, he put his legs through maybe one of them but without his hands he's still slip out and fall. Made it more exciting, he had told her when she asked. She acted as if he was properly strapped in the whole battle, if he was going to fall he would've done so when she had done a roll earlier.
The Red Rider healed the wound on the red dragon's neck with an object in his hand and a shot spell. It was impressive, or so she gathered from Eragon. The Red Rider ignored the other injuries, they were nowhere near as dangerous, nor as painful, nor bleeding nearly as much. That injury, while not fatal, bled quite profusely, a little too profusely or so she gathered from Eragon.
He hadn't intended on cutting that deep.
She heard Eragon laugh "You're quite impressive."
The Rider turned to him impassively "Indeed? Maybe you are just lacking" he said, his voice echoing in his helmet.
Eragon smirked "I wasn't talking to you" he said softly, turning his gaze onto the dragon "You fly quite well" he said to the ruby red dragon "Though I fear my Saphira is quite tired from the day's trials, and is not able to bring her full capabilities to bear."
Saphira snorted 'quite tired' he said, she exhausted, drained, and though he had provided her with a little strength to ease her soothing muscles, from some of the men he killed or an animal who had been dying, she wasn't entirely sure, but despite that the exertion of fighting for six hours straight had taken much of her skills and agility from her, while this red dragon was rested.
It was an unfair comparison, on a good day she'd ruined him.
She felt Eragon grasp the blade sheathed on her saddle, taking Zar'roc from her and replacing it with Durza. He would face this Rider as a Rider, there was a strange kind of irony of this thought process, this desire to face this Dragon Rider while being as much of a Dragon Rider as Eragon himself could be.
Was it irony? She was never sure.
The Rider did not say anything more, striding forwards to meet him in combat, gripping his hand and a half sword in both hands, and swinging it over his head.
They clashed, while she and the red dragon looked on. She watched for any movement from him, he watched for the same from her, while both watched their Riders and made sure they didn't die, prepared to step in should such an eventuality occur, regardless of if it opening them up to attacks from the other.
There was likely much blade skill being demonstrated here but she was not so refined as to notice. She could tell, from Eragon's thoughts, that although this man was not as strong or as skilled as an elf, his technical abilities with a blade were stellar, on a par with Eragon's own, which meant Eragon was superior to him solely in terms of raw strength, and speed… and agility… and style.
Yeah, Eragon was, quite simply, better than the Red Rider.
And that much she could tell from their fight. The Red Rider pushed, Eragon dodged, he struck and Eragon parried, he stabbed and Eragon simply brushed it aside. Eragon pushed, and the Red Rider stumbled, he struck, and a scar carved its way into the Red Rider's breastplate, he stabbed and his fellow Rider stumbled as his leg was wounded, staggering away and being allowed to heal before the fight resumed.
It was amusing, as amusing as it would be to watch her play with Thorn, if she were not exhausted. So yes, quite amusing indeed.
She felt something… coming from her Rider as they fought, he saw familiar things in the way the other Rider moved, the way he attacked, the way they fought. It was during another spar, when Eragon banged the pommel of his sword into the Red Rider's helm, that he finally got the confirmation he desired.
A momentary distraction allowed Eragon to push past the barrier of the Red Rider's mind, for but a moment, and get what information he needed to confirmed his suspicions.
Eragon stepped back, considering the man who now struggled to put a few more paces between them, crawling on the ground because he didn't trust himself to walk as his head rung from the force of the blow "I didn't think we'd meet again" Eragon said softly, lowering the point of his sword, the wine red blade touching the stone they stood upon "And it had to be like this. Fate loathes us, eh, Murtagh?"
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After removing his helm, Murtagh glared up at him, but loosed a vicious smirk at Eragon's mournful gaze "Not quite what you expected, Eragon?" he taunted, wanting Eragon to feel but a fraction of the pain he had faced over the past month, a mere fraction was enough.
Eragon didn't respond to his words "I thought you were dead?" he instead queried "I scryed you, and found nothing. How?"
Murtagh kept his grin "I scryed you and saw the same. They're called wards, maybe you've heard of them" Eragon didn't say anything, just watched him, so eventually he continued "The Twins did it, they took control of a group of Urgals and had them ambush the party as they returned, to kill Ajihad and capture me. They used their magic on me, made me unable to escape, and took me to Uru'baen. To Galbatorix."
"And now you serve him?" Eragon cocked an eyebrow at him, it infuriated him.
"I didn't do it by choice" Murtagh hissed "He punished me when I first arrived, for my spite in response to his years of protection and good favour as I grew up" his words were mocking as he spoke this "Then he took everything I knew, about you, Saphira… and the Varden" it was not something he was proud of, he had almost given his word to protect their secrets, and yet he had failed, yet he could not feel too bad. He had no choice, against Galbatorix he had no choice. Eragon shrugged "After that, Thorn" he gestured to his dragon "hatched for me, and Galbatorix forced us to swear loyalty to him in the ancient language. We cannot disobey him now."
Now the Rider nodded, acceptingly "Fair enough" Eragon said calmly "I mean, I can't say I'd have done the same, not been in that situation yet, but… I understand."
That just made Murtagh more bitter, that Eragon would understand, it infuriated him, he didn't want to be understood "Do you?" he snapped "Do you really understand, Eragon? Can you even?"
"Understand why? Maybe not. Understand what's occurred? Sure. ?nderstand that you felt you had no choice? Certainly… so yes, Murtagh, I can understand,,, mostly."
"You think I'm an injured party in all this" he spoke as if he wasn't, as if he relished in what he had been given, but truthfully he just relished in the power yet wished the situation that caused him to have it never occurred, it was a strange thing "You would not think that if you knew what he had taught him. Galbatorix knows things of magic that you have never dreamed of. Spells so powerful not even the elves dare make use of them. Words that were lost until he discovered them… secret, terrible secrets, that can destroy your enemies and fulfil all your desires."
Eragon chuckled "And how's that working out for ya Murty?"
Murtagh's face contorted into a scowl, but a smile touched his lips a moment after as he turned his gaze to the east at Thorn's behest. There a young man was slowly making his way towards the Twins, bearing a hammer. He hid behind a pile of bodies, and then, when the Twins weren't looking, struck, smashing the head of the nearest one clean open. The other didn't react after that, just fell over, convulsing, until he too was ended by the hammer.
The Rider laughed cruelly.
"That's Roran, if you were wondering. My cousin" Eragon told him calmly.
Murtagh loosed a bitter smile "Cousin, eh?" he chuckled, Eragon truly had no idea, did he? Why would he after all "Well, thank him for me" Murtagh stood, and held his sword ready "If you ever have such an opportunity that is."
"Oh?" Eragon grinned back "Are you going to kill me Murtagh? Is that Galbatorix's plan in sending you here?"
His smile remained, but now he laughed, not just a chuckle or a grunt of amusement, a full on laugh "You don't know? You really don't? Hahaha, oh, wonderful. It's not you, per se, its her" he pointed to Saphira "You might not realise this, but your Saphira is the last female dragon in existence. The last. As in the only chance the dragons have of ever being reborn. And that's his goal, he wants to bring them back, restore the Riders, unite Alagaesia under a single banner, eliminate the need, heck remove even the desire for war. His goals they're…"
"You once told me" Eragon butted in "That he spoke to you and you were enraptured by his words, and swore service to him. Then were told to burn a village, women and children too. The Black King cannot remove the need for war while he holds the throne, he cannot unite Alagaesia while he divides it with his actions, and he cannot restore the Rider's... " Eragon smile "Because I won't let him."
"You don't want him to restore the Rider's?" Murtagh queried, curious "Those bastions of justice and honour and glory. Haha, lies of course. They a corrupt order, full of old men who spent more time debating the need for debating than acting, and fat on the wealth and produce of the nations they dominated. The elves controlled them, used them to subjugate humans. They had to be removed, that we might start anew, and build something grander."
"You haven't addressed my point at all" the Shade Rider told him "I mentioned the fact that he's done this before, seduced you with pretty words, and eventually ripped the veil from your eyes with his cruelty. He'd do it again, but you don't even believe it, not truly."
"That…" he could not respond, for Eragon was right "What else am I supposed to do?" he asked angrily "I can't escape Eragon, he knows our true names, we're his slaves… forever. So all I can do, is what I've always done, and make the best of what I've got. I have Thorn, and I have power, and a confirmed position in Galbatorix's future. That's the best I can do. What would you do?"
Eragon shrugged "Probably the same… if it weren't Galbatorix" Eragon shot Murtagh a smile "I really don't like him, you understand."
He did.
"What can I do?" he asked again, this time… this time there was some hint of desperation in his tone. He so hoped that Eragon would have a method, a way of changing his true name right here and now, a way of freeing him from his bonds. He wanted nothing more than to take up arms at Eragon's side against Galbatorix… but he couldn't… unless…
"You could die" the Rider with the blue dragon shrugged "That's always an option."
Thorn roared, and moved swiftly to stand next to his Rider, bearing his teeth in a snarl 'I will not let you harm him!'
"Ah, so he does speak" Eragon said, with genuine joy in his voice "It's a pleasure Red Dragon, my name is Eragon, you might've heard of me from stick in the mud over there" he gave Thorn his biggest, bestest toothy grin.
Thorn was a little… shaken, by Eragon's lack of reaction to his very real threat, but it only took him a few moments to respond with an uncertain, but Murtagh approved, 'He has.'
"Great, only good things I hope. Ah, who am I kidding, there's not much good to say about me."
Murtagh took a step forward, staring Eragon in the eye "You think I would die… for them" he gestured to the Varden "Or for them" the Empire now "Or for them" and then further, to the lands of the Empire beyond, and more importantly the people who lived there "No. I won't. I refuse. I am not so selfless as to die for a stranger."
There was a soft chuckle from Eragon, who met Murtagh's gaze "Am I a stranger, Murtagh?"
The question struck a chord with him, he actually thought about it, and for quite a while too, but came to a conclusion that did not satisfy him. His conclusion was, quite simply, that he wasn't sure anymore.
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"Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaaa" soft but cruel laughter sounded throughout the throne room.
Murtagh glared up at the King, who sat on his black throne, with the massive black dragon Shruikan behind him, sleeping for now. They were alone here, after all Galbatorix needed no protection, not from the wayward son of Morzan, not from anyone in all truth.
"A Shade" Galbatorix said, more curious now, interested in the implications of such a change, what exactly the effect would be in a Dragon Rider "Durza failed to mention that, but then he did have ambitions beyond being my subordinate" Galbatorix's eyes penetrated him, and he was forced to look away "I met him a long time ago you know, you could even say we were old friends. He helped me destroy the Rider's, taught me magic that… well, it would curdle your blood" he smiled, a charming, charismatic smile "Sometimes even literally."
Murtagh said nothing, he kept his gaze on the ground, away from Galbatorix, not wanting to go through with this anymore.
"You noted some changes" Galbatorix stated "You felt closer to him, he was less scared to be your friends, yet further away as well. As if he held you at an arm's length, most likely because he himself was uncertain of his… self control. Curious, that he would have any after becoming a Shade" Galbatorix turned his dark smile to Murtagh "Do you think he's still your friend Murtagh? Or did that change?" more laughter "You don't even know do you, whether you love him or loathe him or are entirely indifferent" he smiled softly "Well I suppose you know you are not indifferent, as he does evokes feelings, you're just not sure which way those feelings go."
Again he said nothing.
The King laughed, softly now, finding some quiet amusement in his defiance "Well then, now that you've recuperated, shall we continue?"
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Murtagh's face clouded in dark emotion, Eragon watched, cautious, but also sad. He didn't want this, Murtagh was his friend, to be on opposite sides was a bitter revelation, and yet Eragon could not join his side, for his hatred was too intense, and Murtagh could not join his, for the bonds that bound him were too strong.
So they were at an impasse, or Eragon was at least, Murtagh's feelings on the matter were a mystery to him.
"I don't know" were the words that finally escaped from Murtagh's lips, as the young man stared solemnly into the horizon "I don't…" Eragon sighed, closing his eyes. How had things gotten so fucked? What had happened to Murtagh, that he was on longer certain if Eragon was a stranger or his friend. So caught in such thoughts, he didn't notice Murtagh raise a glowing palm "Bind him in place."
Eragon scowled as magic pressed down upon him, holding him still where he stood, but he remembered Oromis's lessons, much as he wished to not care about the elderly Rider's words and wisdom "Reduce the force holding me."
His formidable magic, combined with the strength of Saphira, and they resisted Murtagh's magic.
Murtagh did nothing to stop him, did not bind his mouth, or use some spell to prevent Eragon from using magic, by typical means at least, instead he let him continue.
Eragon frowned. Did Murtagh truly believe he could defeat Eragon in a contest of raw strength? Such arrogance, it was almost on his own level. He would brush aside this magic, then put his junior in his place. Maybe smack him around for a little while. Something like that. Just as soon as he got right of this magic… just as soon as...
Almost four minutes passed and… Murtagh stood there still, looking a little strained, but otherwise unaffected, Eragon on the other hand was exhausted, close to unconsciousness from magic exertion. If he continued… death was a very real possibility..
Murtagh was stronger than him. It was a rather sudden and shocking realisation, and one that came with much bitterness and anger. After all that training, all that time, and here Murtagh was beating him at his own game, being ridiculously more powerful than his foes. It was incredibly frustrating, but Eragon could do naught but release the spell and give Murtagh this victory.
Murtagh himself looked rather shocked by this outcome, then viciously victorious as his enemy sagged in the bind, he would've fallen had it not been for Murtagh's magic, having expended so much strength that he could not even maintain his footing "That's it?" the younger Rider said, laughing harshly "That's all?" there was disbelief, frustration, and cruel joy "That's the extent of your strength?"
Eragon grimaced.
That… did not go as expected.
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Thorn watched as his Rider arrogantly gloated of his victory. Both the sapphire dragon and Red-Eyed Rider were bound by magic, defeated. He had expected more from them in truth, even held some faint hope that they would have some elven secret that might free form the Galbatorix's control, but at least did not believe they would be defeated so easily.
True, in a contest of strength, of swordsmanship, Eragon had been victorious, but in a contest of magic he had fallen, and that was to be expected, given what they possessed, and the Red-Eyed Rider, presumably, did not.
Galbatorix claimed to possess all of them, after all, truly believing that only one existed beyond his control, and that was the one possessed by Eragon's dragon, Saphira. Thorn had no reason to disbelieve his claim.
"I expected more from you" Murtagh continued his gloating "I expected more from the renowned Shade Rider" his Rider laughed bitterly "But I suppose it's to be expected. No one, save Galbatorix, can compete with me" Murtagh smiled cruelly and released his magic, allowing Eragon to drop to his knees.
Murtagh strolled forwards.
Eragon's hand twitched.
Saphira, still bound, screamed 'ERAGON!'
Thorn felt buffeted by an explosion, though there was none, a mind, formerly quite large, heavy and immense, now double, nay tripled, nay became infinitely larger, like a churning sea it washed against his mental shield, almost knocking them down without even intending on breaking them, such was the mind's power.
It felt red, like a seething ocean of thick red blood, whirling and swirling and crashing terribly.
The Red-Eyed Rider stood, a smile twisting his face into something horrific, he was no longer just red eyed, his short cut hair had dyed itself crimson in a few moments, without him even realising that it had done so.
But his eyes, his eyes, they were so vicious, so intense, simply the image he glanced from Murtagh's eyes made him flinch, when he viewed them for himself he physically recoiled.
'Eragon!' Saphira shouted at him, drawing the Red-Eyed Riders attention for a moment, drawing it away from Murtagh and Thorn 'Or are you Legion?' her gaze was fierce, despite being held in place she seemed very threatening.
Eragon just laughed at her question "Is there even a difference?" he asked, turning his gaze to look at her, before turning swiftly back to face Murtagh once more "I apologise, Murtagh. I've been holding back, not on you, but on myself" a tremor ran down the elder Rider's body, noticeable enough for Thorn to observe "God. I forgot how this feels" he grinned at Thorn's Rider "Power feels damn good doesn't it? Do you now understand why I enjoy it? Now that you've tasted it? It's fun isn't it? Inflicting misery on others helps ease your own pain."
Murtagh scowled, but was warily watching Eragon "What pain could have possibly…"
"On your knees" Eragon said simply, his eyes flashing with power, and both of them were hit with immense pressure. Murtagh found the words to fight it off before they were down, but Eragon did not back from this contest of strength, indeed he struck with renewed power, casually expending strength the likes of which even they thought immense, even yawning as their conflict continued.
They drained their reserves, much of Thorn's strength, and Murtagh was moments from unconsciousness before Eragon… just stopped.
Murtagh fell, dropping to his hands and knees before his elder, a reflection of what had occurred before, but Murtagh had no hidden secrets to turn this battle around.
The Red-Eyed Rider took a single step forward.
Thorn would let him get no further, and charged, losing ruby red fire at the older Rider.
He did not block it, divert it, render it harmless, he… he healed through it. Thorn heard the words, understood the meaning, and, moment later, he would see the effects. Just as soon as he had been pounced upon by the sapphire blue dragon, who bit his neck to divert the stream, and used her superior weight, she was wearing plate armour after all, to pin him down.
Burnt flesh was replaced by fresh new musculature, then flesh and skin, his eyes had popped from the heat and the pressure of the juice inside boiling, and they restored. Even his hair regrew, bloody crimson and all.. His armour, funnily enough, was fine, as were the clothes he wore, impervious, or warded, Thorn did not know, nor care.
He cared more about the display of strength, the immense display. Such strength required to do that, it was more than they possessed, did even Galbatorix have such immense power?
Thorn did not know, he hoped… but was uncertain if he hoped the King did, or did not.
"Such a loyal dragon" Eragon said, smiling softly "That's the way it should be, like her" he winked at Saphira now, who was watching him quite carefully Thorn noticed "Despite not knowing whether I'm even me or not, she still moves to protect me. You dragons… you're worse than us, and that's saying something."
This time Eragon took a step towards Thorn, and…
"If you touch him" Murtagh wheezed out, glaring at Eragon "I swear I'll kill you."
Eragon didn't respond, just took another step.
"YOU HEAR ME! NO OATH WILL KEEP ME FROM KILLING YOU!"
Another.
"I SWEAR IT!"
Eragon gently placed his hand on Thorn's snout, and turned to grin at Murtagh "Shut up" magic made his words reality, and Murtagh, well, shut up. Eragon turned his gaze to Thorn again, who flinched at being observed by those eyes, but they were furious or angry anymore, they were… oddly soft, still manic and screaming of violence and death, yet warm and gentle at the same time, or maybe that was his expression, defying the emotions his eyes expressed "You love him don't you" he said softly.
Thorn wondered at the purpose of the question, but, after Eragon just waited for what he assumed was a response, he nodded, as best he could with his neck still bitten by Saphira, who thankfully chose not to crush his neck and be done with this whole affair. He wondered if Eragon was responsible for this, or if it was Saphira's own choice.
"You'd die for him, in a heartbeat. And he'd do the same for you."
Another nod.
Eragon chuckled "I know the feeling" he gave Thorn a pat, then moved away "I could kill the both of you right here and now, and remove one of Galbatorix's pets, this would swing the war in the Varden's favour, and likely piss the Black King the hell off" Eragon told them, giving them a rather gentle and kind smile "You know why I won't?"
Murtagh, obviously, said nothing, still bound by Eragon's magic. Thorn had no answer and shook his head.
"Because… because of the bond we shared. Share, even if for you it's dead" Eragon smile became a little bitter, but he shook it away with a shake of his head "Because I don't want to kill one of the last surviving dragons. Because… Because for what I owe you, letting the both of you leave, and wreak yet more havoc amongst my allies, it's not an even trade. I owe you my life, which I value far above my allies well being. Well she does, therefore I do."
Eragon released his magic on Murtagh, who took a deep breath before speaking "I owe you nothing" he said sternly, glaring at Eragon.
"Sure" Eragon said with a grin.
'Eragon' Saphira said, loud enough for Thorn to overhear.
'Not now' he responded.
His Rider struggled to his feet, and looked at Thorn, still pinned down by Saphira. He made to speak, but Eragon cut him off "Saphira, would you kindly?" Eragon flashed a charming smile at his own dragon, waving his hand to indicate for her to move.
She did this, but did so slowly, and made sure to clench her jaw just a little before she released him, and stepped on him a little more than was strictly necessary.
"You once offered me Zar'roc" Murtagh next, once Thorn was free and strolled to his Rider's side.
"So I did."
"Does that offer still stand?"
Eragon gazed carefully at Murtagh "Is that your intent, to become your father, or what he was to Galbatorix, the people of the Empire, is that your ambition Murtagh?"
"I'm nothing like my father" Murtagh spat. He grinned cruelly "Guess that makes two of us."
Thorn chided his Rider, angering the Red-Eyed and Red-haired Rider right now was not a good idea, but Murtagh would not be dissuaded.
Eragon looked a little surprised.
"I never told you my mother's name did I? Neither did you" Murtagh chuckled "It was Selena. Selena was my mother, and yours too. Morzan was our father. The Twins figured out the connection, they managed to grab that much from your head. Galbatorix was quite interested to learn that particular piece of information."
'So were you' Thorn muttered, but Murtagh shoved him away, not wanting a conscience right now.
"Well" Eragon said slowly "That's… interesting" he shrugged "Hey Saphira, I'm the son of Morzan, there's some irony in that, right?"
Saphira didn't respond, at least not that Thorn could tell.
Eragon unbuckled Zar'roc's sheath from his belt, and slid the wine red blade into it. He walked over the Murtagh, and proffered the hilt, but pulled it back when Murtagh reached for it "I want your sword" Eragon said.
Murtagh stared at him oddly, looking at the sword in his hand, but offered the blade "Take it then."
"And the sheath" Murtagh rolled his eyes, but also unbuckled his sheath and slid his own sword into it, then offered it by the sheathed point.
Eragon took a grip of it as Murtagh too a grip of Zar'roc, Thorn could feel Murtagh's emotions, some elated, some disgusted, some curious at the exchanged that had just taken place. He hated this sword, it represented his childhood, befouled by a drunken old man. Yet he loved it, it was beautiful, and he felt it only right it be by his side. That exchange was what had Thorn curious most of all though.
"You can have this back" Eragon told him "All you have to do is ask… and hand over your Misery for it."
He wasn't just talking about Zar'roc's name, that much Thorn understood well and true.
Murtagh just snorted, thinking he'd never trade Zar'roc for that sword. Had he forgotten that Tornac had given him that sword? Thorn truly didn't know, and didn't want to remind him, not now at least. Tornac was a sensitive subject for his Rider.
Eragon sighed, drawing their attention back to him "Now get out of my sight" Murtagh struggled between staying and going, Thorn wondered if he intended to keep fighting now that Zar'roc was in his hand, until Eragon smashed him with a mental barrage the likes of which only Galbatorix had inflicted upon him "GO!"
They fled.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX'
Saphira considered her Rider, stood there on a plateau overlooking the Burning Plains, red haired and red eyed, watching Thorn disappear into the horizon.
She caught him grinning at her, then he winked.
Funnily enough she understood exactly what he wanted, and merged minds with his to force the others back into the cage.
The cage, Eragon had described to her a few times, was still in existence, merely thrown open, and with Legion caught unawares they were able to force much of it in there before it even realised. When it did it turned its attention on them with immense force, battering at their defences, pushing back against them.
It was every bit as epic as all the battles before, yet to the both of them it was simply a mental struggle, and as mental struggles were more difficult to visualise than bloody conflict, it seemed much less epic.
As they closed the gate on Legion, shutting him away again in his eternal prison, Saphira felt rather dissatisfied.
She had thought it was over, and done with, but it wasn't. Legion was still a problem, but one that could be addressed at their leisure, no longer a pressing issue, and also one that they could rely on in dangerous events. It didn't feel… right, it felt like cheating. But then Angela poisoning soldiers last night had not bothered her in the slightest, why should this?
But it did.
'Eragon' she said softly, to her still red haired Rider.
She watched him run his fingers through his short hair, casting the same spell he had done after the Agaeti Blodhren, turning the red locks back to brown "How does that even work?" Eragon wondered to himself "Do they really cast a spell to dye my hair red? Or do spirits cause a alteration in the body that causes my hair's pigment to change?"
She didn't respond, not having one, having more pressing issues.
"Sorry" he said, after moments of silence passed between them "I know, I should've consulted you. But you know how that would've ended" she did, with her saying no and him doing it anyway.
'That does not excuse your behavior.'
He scoffed "What are you gonna do spank me?"
'Keep up with that attitude and I will.'
"'tever you say Sparkles, 'tever you say."
'Who in the blasted wastes of hell are you calling Sparkles you red eyed monkey shit?!'
So hopefully this has cleared up the Eragon and Legion situation or at least made it a little clearer. And equally hopefully this was a decent confrontation between Eragon and Murtagh. I wanted it to be a little more epic, but that seemed unnecessary.
I have issues with Paolini's magic. See he states, or Oromis says "Never use absolutes" and yet Eragon's releases magic all the time, implying there is no absolutes. For instance take the stone raising Eragon first learned. He never included a way out, like "Stone rise and then stop when I tell you to". Now it can be reasoned that there is a understand in the magic wielder mind that the spell will be released when they wish it to. And yet that isn't usable in other cases? Like when Eragon was trying to break the binding on his leg? There was no "Unless it'll kill me" not even subconsciously.
If you're going to argue that Eragon was definite in that situation, release the bindings, then why is he not always being drained by the stones he raised? he never told them to stop being raised, hell if he didn't he'd just end up sapping himself to death, as his magic tried to both raise and not raise the stone.
So basically Paolini's magic system is kind shit. Now argue with me.
Toodles.
