A:N - To use the correct FanFiction slang, things are going to start getting more 'AU' from hereon-in.

Chapter Thirteen – Harry vs. Durza

Harry sat in Angela's shop, aware of the herbalist's eyes bearing into his own. The look she was giving him made him feel greatly uncomfortable.

"What did you say?" she repeated, staring at him intently.

He whispered: "I just said the name 'Fírnen'."

Angela continued to scrutinise him, before shifting her attention to Eragon. "I knew your life would be extraordinary, and now I see why. You are a Rider," she declared.

Eragon blinked, and then nodded. "I am Eragon, and am a Rider as my namesake was."

"It's incredible," she breathed. "That old man with you… who is he?"

"His name is Brom, and I am Harry," Harry informed her, not startled by Eragon's revelation. He had expected it, and decided to add his own name to the equation.

Angela looked as though she was about to laugh at something, but was cut short by a scream from nearby. She narrowed her eyes, looking alarmed. Harry and Eragon were on their feet instinctively, swords drawn. Harry also readied his wand. Duel-wielding both weapons was a skill he had strived to master, albeit without much success so far.

Solembum was on his feet now, hissing as his fur stood on-end.

"We must leave. There is a Shade coming!"

Harry and Eragon exchanged a panicked glance, before furiously joining Angela at the door. She opened it a crack, peering out.

"It's clear," she whispered. She made to open it, before hesitating. She turned to look at the pair of them. "Both of you must be careful. If they see you, your ruse will be no more. They will hunt you, and any who dare to aid your journey. Do not engage the Shade directly, or he will surely overwhelm you. Go, now."

"What about the two of you?" Harry asked, his moral chagrin taking precedent over his desire to flee.

"We will be fine," she said confidently. "Solembum and I will travel to Tronjheim. The two of you must follow Brom's every instruction. If any can save you, he can."

"Can't you?" Eragon asked carefully.

She smiled thinly. "I am afraid not. I sense you have much training to accomplish, and the four of us could not evade notice anyway. We must do this separately. I know not when, but I shall meet with you again."

"In Tronjheim," Harry nodded. "We'll meet you there."

She repeated his gesture and thrust the door open, ushering them out. Quickly, they ducked and ran outside, keeping low. There was no one in sight, but Harry knew how appearances could be deceiving. Behind him, Angela had vanished. The door shut seemingly by itself. Harry decided to chance a run at Jeod's house, and the two of them half-ran and half-crouched their way to the front door.

Above them, clouds had gathered, and more lightning began to flash across the grey sky, illuminating the patches of darkness. Harry hurried to knock on the door, eyes darting around for any guards.

"Brom!" he whispered urgently, knocking again hastily. "Open the door! It's us!"

In a flash, the door was wrenched open and they were both grabbed inside. Harry almost raised his wand, until he saw that Brom had a hold of him. Eragon had been grabbed by Jeod. Both men looked inconceivably apprehensive.

"Where the hell have you two been?" Brom demanded angrily.

Eragon opened his mouth to speak, but Harry overruled him. "It's a long story. What's happening?"

Brom straightened up and began to buckle his sword to his waist, apparently having started just before Harry had rapped on the door. He looked tense, and motioned for them to quickly locate their travelling packs.

"There's no time to explain," he said breathlessly. "Needless to say: they know we're here. Soldiers are searching room-to-room in every house, and it won't be long before they reach this one. We have to get the blazes out of here before that happens. Now, move!"

Eragon quickly swung his bow across his shoulders, fastening the quiver. They donned their most trustworthy travelling cloaks and leather boots, as Harry ensured his pack was secure. Everything was present.

"Eragon, send a message to Saphira," Brom ordered. "Let her know we're leaving Teirm immediately, and we might need her help to scare any off who get too close."

"I don't think that'll do much good," Harry said urgently as Eragon did so, throwing the cloak across his shoulders. "There's a Shade out there somewhere."

Brom swore violently. "How do you know this?" he demanded furiously.

"Later," Harry said. "We just know he's there. How powerful are Shades?"

"Too powerful for the three of us combined at this moment in time," Brom said gravely. He quickly motioned to Jeod, who locked the door and led them upstairs.

"Where are we going?" Eragon demanded. "We can't hide! They'll find us and kill everyone here!"

"Secret hatch that leads onto the roof," Jeod grunted, pulling on a string hanging from the ceiling. A rectangular gap suddenly appeared, giving them a view of the sky above. "When you get up there, hit the deck and head west. You should reach the water in a few minutes if you're not held up. From there you can swim outside of Teirm if they aren't patrolling the harbour."

Brom nodded and helped Eragon by giving him a boost. Harry was next, but before Brom did so, he clasped Jeod's arm firmly. "Thank you, my friend. We may not have found the Ra'zac, but you have still helped us greatly. I hope we meet again soon."

"As do I," Jeod nodded. "Now, go!" he whispered furiously, as a large banging noise began to sound throughout the house.

Brom quickly clasped his hands together and proffered them to Harry, who stood on the palms for balance. He grabbed the edges of the hatch and pulled himself up, the bow and backpack making the task difficult. When he was up, he turned and pulled Brom up, aided by Eragon. Once Brom was beside them, he used a handle on their side of the hatch to shut it tightly and made a hand motion for them to get down.

They lay there in silence, waiting for the guards to disperse below. Harry heard them arguing loudly with Jeod through the front door, before forcing their way inside.

"Okay, now," Brom whispered.

He slowly raised himself to his haunches, and peered over the edge of the rooftop. There were no other guards in sight. Harry was grateful for this old design of buildings – the roofs were all flat and wide, the surface paved in stone to prevent water leakage. If they were slanted his nerve may have failed him. With a nod at each other, the three of them jumped to their feet and ran towards the edge Brom indicated.

Brom jumped across without hesitance and reached the other side, the distance being about twenty feet. Below them were many narrow alleyways that twisted and turned in every direction, eventually leading to Teirm's slums. Not a soul was in sight, until a patrol passed by, marching loudly.

Eragon and Harry fell flat to their faces as the sound of boots reached them, and scarcely dared to breathe as boisterous voices passed them by. When their backs were turned, Eragon stood up and ran towards the edge, looking determined. Unfortunately, he hesitated just before jumping, and ended up slipping just as his feet left the ground. Biting his tongue to prevent a curse, Harry watched as Eragon just reached the other rooftop, his legs dangling over the side. Brom helped him up, but the sound of his body colliding heavily with the wall had attracted one of the guards below, who turned and pointed at him hanging there, shouting to his comrades.

Harry froze as a dozen heads turned in their direction. A few looked straight at him, but most caught sight of Eragon.

"You bloody fools! Don't just stand there! Get them!" the captain screamed from the head of the column.

Suddenly, arrows were flying towards them, and Harry ducked just as one sailed over his head. He desperately looked at Eragon and Brom across from him, weighing up his options. There was no way he was getting over there without being hit. He couldn't cast a spell in mid-air without losing his concentration falling to the ground below, and the guards were firing at random times, so he couldn't wait until they reloaded. He shook his head at Brom, who understood instantly. The old man stared at him for a moment, until Harry made an expression with his face. It was meant to say just go! Brom read it as such and nodded, pulling Eragon to his feet. In the centre of the rooftop, they were in cover.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Eragon demanded. "Harry, get over here!"

"Eragon, get the hell out of here!" Harry ordered, making a sweeping hand gesture from his prone position. "You're more important than I am! Brom, take him and go! I'll find my own way out!"

Eragon struggled viciously as Brom seized him around the midriff. He practically threw him off the roof and onto the cloth-topped stall of a local merchant on the guards' blind side. Both of them rolled to the ground, looking bedraggled but none the worse for wear.

Harry and Eragon stared at each other for a moment, before Eragon nodded. They could communicate through their mental link. Brom pushed him forward, and the two began to run as one of the soldiers caught sight of what was happening and sounded the alarm. Harry watched as four of the company bounded after them, whilst the other half continued to fire arrows, hoping to score a potential hit.

Damn it! Why didn't I just blind them with a spell and then jump across?!

Harry sighed, growing tired of their pathetic aiming. They would never hit him from there. It was a well-timed sigh, for the captain shouted a new order, and they began to climb on crates and barrels in an effort to reach him. Harry stood up cautiously and swore as he saw what was happening. He made as if to run and jump onto the opposite roof when the firing stopped, but paused as two of the guards ascended its frame, reaching the top.

Harry caught a glimpse of Brom and Eragon running towards the harbour, and morosely turned in the opposite direction. He couldn't fight so many. Magic would defeat them, but it would take too long, and reinforcements would be quick to arrive. They drew back their bows and took aim. With a curse, he turned and ran to a different edge, the one to the right, and leaped instinctively. He landed on a wooden crate and felt it break under his weight as two arrows flew past him, one coming dangerously close to his neck.

The crate's thick cloth helped to shield him from the brunt of the landing, but he still felt dazed for a moment and had to shake his head to clear it. His shoulder felt like it would bruise badly, but that was the least of his concerns.

"Damn it," he muttered frantically, as one of the guards rounded the corner. There was no way out in the direction his friends were running.

He ran at Harry screaming a savage war cry, and attempted to swing at his neck. Harry, still light-headed, couldn't get his wand up in time. He barely ducked under the sweeping blow and stuck his leg out, catching the guard above his knees. The man fell to the ground, growling furiously. Without even thinking about it, Harry turned and bolted towards the nearest alley he could see, aware he was running in the wrong direction entirely.

Eragon ran furiously after Brom down a squashed alleyway in the slums, a group of four soldiers hot on their heels. The twists and turns almost made him feel dizzy, until the path finally straightened out for about a hundred metres. Brom chanced a look back, and saw their weapons were drawn. They couldn't fire arrows whilst running, but Eragon knew they would catch up sooner or later. They were well trained, and although Brom was full of spirit, he couldn't keep up this pace forever.

As it turned out, he didn't have to.

Brom spun around and raised his palm to head height. His ring glinted in the little sunlight that broke through the grimy buildings around them.

"Brisingr!"

There was a horrific shriek as one of the guards spontaneously combusted, grabbing his comrades for help. They couldn't move out of the way in time, and the roaring fire spread, tongues of flame dancing across their tunics until they were all engulfed. Eragon watched, transfixed with no small amount of nausea, as the four men melted into an unrecognisable heap of smoking bone and charred flesh. The smell sickened his stomach.

"Come on!" Brom growled, grabbing his arm roughly. Eragon reluctantly turned away and hurried to follow him.

"How did that happen?" Eragon demanded, as they turned a corner into yet another alleyway, this one strewn with rotting food and animal waste.

"Magical fire is hotter than ordinary," Brom grunted, casting a glance back. No one else was following them.

They reached the end of the complex system of lanes, and Brom hesitated.

"This is too easy," he muttered. "There should be more than four of them, and those cries would surely have alerted any who are nearby."

"Maybe you frightened them off," Eragon said, not believing it himself.

Brom snorted. "If there is a Shade nearby, it's more likely that they've just given up because he can definitely handle us alone. Regardless, we can't linger. We have to get out of this city now!"

"Where are the horses?" Eragon asked, worried for the animals.

Brom smiled grimly. "As soon as we got back from the castle, we heard what was happening, so Jeod arranged it for a friend of his to carry them out of Teirm by boat. They should be waiting beside Saphira's hiding place."

Eragon nodded, eyeing the scene before him apprehensively. Despite their frequent glances back, there appeared to be no one following them, so their front was more troublesome. It was also quiet, but a sudden flash of movement on the roof caught his attention.

"There! Did you see that?" he whispered frantically.

Brom frowned, narrowing his eyes. "I did. No wonder it's so easy…"

In front of them was a large section of the marketplace, currently deserted as citizens had been ordered into their homes by the soldiers. It was essentially a large square, surrounded by buildings, with only two exits.

"Ours and the one across the square," Brom said quietly. "I'll wager there are archers on those rooftops, and soldiers hiding in that opposite tunnel."

"Should we go around?" Eragon asked, his back pressed firmly against the wall as he peeked out.

Brom shook his head hastily. "No, there is no other way unless we go through those alleys again and circle around behind the entire marketplace. We can't climb onto these roofs either. Those archers will pick us off before we can blink."

"What about magic? Can we cast a spell to deflect the arrows before they hit us and then just run across?"

"Oh, sure," Brom said sarcastically, "if you want us to drop dead at the feet of any soldiers we meet in that passageway."

Eragon grimaced. "Then I'm afraid we only have one option, although I doubt you'll like it."

Brom glanced at him, thoughtful yet disapproving. He sighed slightly, looking back at the square. There really was no alternative if they wanted to make it out of here alive. "Fine," he nodded. "Call her."

He ran, fast and furious. He had no idea where he was going, and sure as hell didn't stop to think about it. An entire company of soldiers was chasing him, no less than fifty. He felt oddly peaceful and euphoric, probably from the adrenaline rush coursing through his body like an icy wind. Trying to throw them off, he had turned in the direction of the citadel, but had instead angled for a pile of neatly stacked crates.

Climbing them, Harry began to dart across the rooftops of Teirm, blasting any archers out of his way with banishing and stunning spells. Unlike earlier, he didn't care about them firing arrows at him, and used the energy he was bursting with to easily leap from one rooftop to another. It was terrifying, but exhilarating at the same time.

Below him, the soldiers ran, eyes darting between him and the walls of the buildings in front of them. He grimaced, looking at them. If he stopped, they would notice. So he didn't stop – he turned and brandished his wand in their direction. The adrenaline forced his hand, and he didn't notice what had happened until it actually occurred.

"Expulso!"

A sonic boom of pure power rocketed from the tip of his wand and impacted the ground beside his hunters, who had become the hunted. The explosion was so powerful it left an impact crater in the ground, and blew the soldiers into tiny fragments. Some were caught on the outside of the blast, and screamed in agony and fear as their legs and arms were ripped from their bodies mercilessly. They lay on the ground, clutching their bleeding stumps with agony. Some died from shock, others from blood loss.

Only two of the entire company escaped unscathed, and they took one look at the homicidal maniac on the rooftop, before turning and fleeing as fast as their legs could carry them.

Harry stood in shock, looking at the ground below him, eyes wide, ignoring the dust that attempted to blind him. Not only had he just killed people, but he had obliterated at least thirty or forty with one spell. Not even Voldemort had done that! He felt his teeth chattering, and punched himself in the chest to come back to reality. There was no time for this. He would surely vomit later and possibly never sleep again, but for now he had to escape. He turned from the scene of carnage, which had also destroyed about half of the abandoned merchant stalls nearby, and ran for his very life and soul.

Angela had been right. He had resolved that mental battle a lot sooner than previously thought, and he certainly had not wanted it to be like this. Strangely, he didn't feel overly bothered by the situation, perhaps because of the fight or flight mentality that had entered his mind and will, although he knew that was bound to change. He was a murderer in his own eyes, and yet it had felt so… righteous. Those people had killed innocent families and would have killed him too.

Wouldn't they?

He couldn't think about this now. That explosion seemed to have alerted half of the bloody city, as evidenced by the men who appeared from nowhere. Many of them kept their distance, firing arrows, but none came close.

"Harry? Harry! What the hell was that?" Eragon shouted mentally.

"I… it's okay! I'm fine!" he replied frantically, rolling behind a large chimney for cover. The arrows whooshed overhead, some clattering against the stone frame inches from his face. He resolutely cast a disillusionment charm over himself, before thinking hard. Why hadn't he thought of that charm before now?

"Eragon, we need Saphira's help! I have half of the damned army on my tail, and I still haven't seen that Shade yet!"

"I know!" his friend replied. "I've already asked her. She's on her way."

Harry nodded to himself. She would help Eragon first, and then Brom would try to make them leave. Saphira could probably carry all three of them, albeit not for very long. Two was perfectly manageable. She would provide an excellent distraction for his part, but Harry would still have to find his own way out of this current mess. He needed to escape these soldiers and find a place to hide, or else continue towards the harbour. He didn't want Saphira to risk herself unnecessarily.

Taking a deep breath, he rose to his feet and ran to the edge of the roof, vaulting across to the other side. Surprisingly, none of the guards noticed, and he assumed the disillusionment charm was functioning effectively. He looked at his body and grinned. He wasn't entirely invisible, as Dumbledore could have done, but nor was he a mere chameleon either. He appeared to be translucent, silver in colour. Most untrained eyes would miss him.

Grinning widely, Harry quickly climbed off the roof, finding that there was nowhere to go but back again. He began to cautiously move through the streets, using cover and looking around corners carefully. Three times he ducked as large contingents of soldiers passed by. When the coast appeared to be clear, he began to make the directions up inside his head, and found that he needed to go east to reach the harbour. Unfortunately, the sun wasn't visible at that moment.

Actually, the weather decided there and then to finally break, and rain began to fall heavily, just as the thunder and lightning redoubled their efforts. Harry did not care. The silvery colour of the onslaught would merely help to mask his newfound appearance even further. He was almost about to smile again, having forced himself to forget about the soldiers from earlier, when a harrowing voice cut through his elation.

"I've found you at last," came the hiss from nearby.

Harry froze. He had been looking around the corner of a fur and linen shop into a large street, and was about to move. Now, however, he grabbed his wand and whirled around, pointing it at the man who stood there.

He was dressed all in red, with flowing hair to match. His skin was deathly white, and he bore a terrible smirk upon his face. Harry hesitated as he saw the Ra'zac flanking him. This could only be one person.

Wary of Brom's instructions about keeping the mind shielded, he threw his defences up only after relaying one last message.

"Eragon, the Shade has found me, but he's not alone. The Ra'zac are with him."

Harry felt the tide of anger, shock and confusion emanate from his friend's mind, but didn't stop to ponder the emotions. He closed up his mind with iron hard defences and tightened the grip on his wand. His sword was by his side, and his bow still sat across his shoulders. In his mind, a small voice reminded him of Brom's earlier warning about the Shade's strength, and he decided to stall for as long as possible.

"So… you seem to know who I am, but who are you, exactly?" Harry asked carefully, keeping his distance.

The Shade smiled. "I am Durza, one above many, below none."

"Below none, except for the king?" Harry asked, before he could stop himself.

Durza's face hardened, but he didn't rise to any bait. "The king does not control me. He merely… unleashes me when the time is right."

Absent-mindedly, Harry walked out, stopping directly in the middle of the buildings beside him. It left him a lot of space to manoeuvre. Behind Durza, the Ra'zac croaked and snapped at him, more like animals than anything. Durza ignored them.

"But even he could not dream of the power I have absorbed recently. It has doubled my strength… and my resolve," he simpered. He leered at Harry, who felt his heart lurch when Durza's eyes flashed red momentarily.

It can't be…

Harry didn't say anything. Brom had told them how powerful Shades supposedly were, but if he had somehow absorbed Riddle's energy… it was unthinkable. Harry could only hope that he wasn't able to use both forms of magic, but then he remembered with a slight feeling of relief that he couldn't possibly have a wand, regardless.

"And now you've come to find me," Harry concluded quietly, eyeing his three opponents in a measured fashion. A small grain of doubt popped into existence then. Where were the guards at?

Almost as if he had read Harry's mind, Durza smiled wickedly. "It's just you and me, boy. I want to test this new strength properly, without those pathetic fools and their swords. If you try to escape… my friends here will run you down."

On cue, the Ra'zac made a hideous cackling noise in their throats, before stepping to either side of the street, watching the proceedings. Harry remembered how tough they were. If this… Shade… could control them so easily, he had a real problem. He had never truly duelled anybody to the death, except for Voldemort at the very end, but that had been quick. This, with two potential types of magic, was on a completely different level. And he had no Elder Wand, either.

"Tell me how you found us," Harry demanded suddenly, and Durza looked surprised.

"Now, why would I do a thing like that? It's my little secret, and I intend to keep it that way… not that it matters. You're mine."

With that, he growled and raised his palm with a ferocious speed.

"Garjzla!"

A red bolt of light flashed into existence and flew towards Harry, who was taken by surprise. He barely deflected it into the wall of a house, singeing the stone. He recognised the wording as 'light' itself. Harry didn't speak, but took it as a challenge. The world seemed to slow down and quiet itself around them.

With vigorous and practiced movements, he flicked his wand accordingly, sending tendrils of fire at the Shade, whip-like in their nature. They flashed across his invisible shield, startling the Ra'zac, but merely caused Durza to grin with malice. That grin turned into a frown of concentration as the Shade gazed intently at the ground around him for less than a split second.

"Istalrí boetk!"

With a roar, the ground around Harry exploded in a wave of fire, and he was blown backwards into the house behind him with a dull thud. He let out a brief cry of surprise as his shield deflected the explosion itself, but protego didn't work against physical assault, and the impact knocked the wind out of him. He lay in a heap, gasping, before realising that he would be dead if he continued to do so.

Eyes snapping up to the Shade's, he jumped to his feet and ran for cover behind a nearby stall, firing an assortment of fire and ice spells at his opponent. For his part, Durza was completely unfazed, and didn't even move as they bounced off his shield. Harry fired a shower of deadly-looking icicles at him, which he halted in mid air with a simple command. Harry was worried about what he was planning, and his fears were not allayed when they were sent back at him like furious hornets, hell bent on death and destruction.

With a slight grunt of exertion, Harry dispelled them and rapidly brandished his wand towards two piles of nearby crates and barrels, firing them at Durza from opposite directions. The fire was now blocking his only exits, so he had to hold his ground and hope that Saphira would arrive soon, if Brom thought the risk was worth it.

Durza laughed hysterically and raised both of his arms above his shoulders. With a roar of "Jierda un moi stenr!" the stone buildings on both sides of the street began to crack and split. The Ra'zac were panicked for a second at this development, but Harry more so. Durza was levitating several tons of rubble without effort, including the halted crates and barrels, and threw them towards the young wizard with the force of a battering ram.

Harry gasped audibly as he saw what was happening, but didn't let his fear show. He became more determined than ever, and hastily dived out of the way, grunting as his chin scraped along the ground heavily. That had almost no effect, however, as the Shade controlled their flight, and brought them around for a second run. Harry took advantage of that, and cast another explosive spell.

The impact occurred directly in front of Durza, and although it didn't breach his shield, it did blind him momentarily. With that in place, Harry flattened himself against a nearby wall, watching as the debris flew towards the one controlling them. Durza snarled as he saw the rocks and boulders, but threw them into the buildings with a lazy flick of his wrist. Screams could be heard from inside the houses, but there was nothing to be done about them.

He raised his palm again, aiming directly at Harry, whose earlier disillusionment charm was clearly having no effect against the sorcerer.

"Thrysta vindr!" he roared.

With a whoosh of movement, Harry felt a huge torrent of wind slam into his protego shield. He grunted in exertion as he attempted to move, finding himself pinned against the wall. His disillusionment charm was also dispelled before his very eyes. With his smile having returned, Durza levitated a small dagger above him, the point looking towards Harry's chest.

It launched itself forwards. Harry struggled to move, but was completely stuck. His wand was locked in a position that aimed away from the dagger, but the Ancient Language didn't seem to require the use of said wand, and his left palm was facing the correct direction.

"Thrysta!" he shouted. As the energy left him, the dagger was knocked off target, but he wasn't as strong as the Shade, whose spell therefore took precedent. The dagger ended up about ten inches from Harry's face, buried in the stone structure. Durza smirked.

"So, the rabbit's finally come out of his hole? I see you can use the Ancient Language after all, child."

"I'm no child," Harry spat, shocked as the pressure on him waned a little. He remembered Brom's lessons on concentration. As good as Durza was, no one could gloat and maintain such a powerful spell at the same time. Harry could lower his wand a little. He knew what he had to do. Vow or no vow, Durza wasn't human, and he had already killed. He had crossed the line, so it was time to go the full nine yards. His life depended on it.

"Tell me, how does it feel to be a puppet, errand boy?" Harry asked in a voice much unlike his own. For added contempt, he smirked, his mouth slightly bloody from the impact with the wall.

Durza growled, and Harry felt the pressure loosen just a little more. He could now point his wand at the Shade directly, and hesitated for only a moment. He had no choice, although he still felt sickened with himself. He remembered the little child in Yazuac, as well as any of the villagers who had been butchered. This man, this… thing, was no better! He would murder as many people as he could, including Harry! He was just as bad as Voldemort, and he was the master of those Ra'zac, who had brutally tortured Garrow! Harry felt his rage spike beyond anything he had ever felt, and screamed in fury.

"Avada kedavra!"

A roar seemed to escape his body itself, and his wand reacted in kind. A blast of green light erupted from its very core and launched itself at the demon in red. The Shade was clearly surprised at the force behind this spell, but that didn't stop him from rallying at the last moment. Harry watched in horror.

He deflected it.

The spell veered off, but the last minute deflection was much later than Durza had intended, and the angle was a lot narrower as a result. The spell didn't dissipate – it was too powerful. As it bounced off Durza's reinforced shield, it flew to one side and hit the larger Ra'zac squarely in the chest.

Its brother or sister screamed in anger as it collapsed to the ground, still and lifeless. Harry was in shock. He had killed a Ra'zac. But more than that – Durza had deflected the killing curse, for which there was no known counter. It seemed that Alagaёsian magic was indeed more powerful than that of Earth. He swore as the other Ra'zac drew its blade and ran at him, screaming incoherently.

Durza, true to his word of no interference, acted before Harry. He knocked it out with a blow from the flat side of his sword, and stepped forward, weapon drawn. It was a simple, pale blade, with a single scratch running down one side.

"You are more powerful than I thought," Durza said lightly. "But know this: if I had decided to attack your mind, you would already be dead."

"Then why didn't you?" Harry gasped, falling forward as Durza's magic released him entirely. He half-knelt on the ground, leaning on his hand for support. That magic had really taken a lot out of him, which was unsurprising when one considered his hunger and day of running, to be frank.

Durza raised a single eyebrow. "Where's the fun in that?" he asked nonchalantly, raising his sword in an offensive stance.

"If you let me live, it'll come back to haunt you," Harry said through gritted teeth, still feeling his anger from before. He silently removed his bow and quiver and sat them on the ground beside him, before drawing Aiedail. The magnificent blade gleamed in the sunlight, which had replaced the torrential downpour moments after Harry cast the killing curse.

He wasn't sure what Durza thought was going to happen. Perhaps the Harry of two years ago would have been honourable and respected the decision to fight with melee, but after two months on the road with Brom, Harry had no such intention. If he got a chance to use magic, he was damn sure going to take it.

Durza shrugged. "Maybe so, but I severely doubt it. You cannot defeat me, boy. You are weakening already, and I have hardly broken a sweat. Even your Rider will tremble before my strength!"

He shouted the last sentence, and the sound of his voice reverberated amongst the city like an avalanche. Harry was dimly aware of people peeking through their windows, terrified, yet intrigued. In the corner of his eye, he saw a group of soldiers now preventing his escape, although the still-burning fire would have done that anyway.

He had to make a decision. He couldn't charge Durza head-on in his current state. Although he doubted the Shade wanted to kill him instantly, it couldn't possibly end well. At the same time, he couldn't stand back and cast magic. The Shade was simply too powerful, and Harry was already weak in his Ancient form. He could cast traditional spells without fail, but Durza would eventually get annoyed and retaliate. Besides, he could merely deflect everything on a whim.

As though he had read Harry's mind, Durza laughed. "Starting to see what you have to contend with, boy? No one can defeat me now!"

Harry struggled to think of a reply.

Damn it, Brom! Where the hell are you?

Eragon watched from his alleyway as Saphira burst through the clouds like a ghost, not making any noise. The mini explosions he heard were worrying, and he longed to help his friend out. Harry had mentioned the Shade and the Ra'zac to boot, but Brom had told Eragon to take a deep breath in order to clear his head.

In an instant, Saphira was on top of the archers, who looked up and saw her much too late. They screamed and called for help, but were silenced very soon. He watched, slightly calmer, as she ripped fully grown men apart with her teeth and claws, shredding them into bloody ribbons and splattering the square with blood and entrails. The smell was putrid.

Saphira roared her challenge as a company of soldiers appeared and flew headfirst towards them, displaying her ferocious rows of deadly teeth. Half of the soldiers lost their morale and fled, but she would let none escape. How dare they attempt to hurt the partner of her heart? How dare they try to harm his friends?!

She devoured more than one, but mainly ripped them to shreds without thinking or remorse. Eragon felt her bloodlust, and tried to calm her down, but found he may as well have been trying to stop the tide with his bare hands. He waited for Brom's signal, before dashing across the square to meet her.

The few remaining archers fired at them, but inaccurately so as they ducked and weaved around stalls and terrified livestock. Eragon hesitated. There was a straight dash between him and Saphira, who was busy snapping necks and crushing men by standing on them. One of the archers noticed this, and aimed towards the space, waiting for him to move.

Eragon grinned.

"Time to put our lesson into practice," he told Brom, who was evidently confused. "Stenr reisa!"

As he uttered the words and felt the energy flow out of his body, a medium-sized pebble beside him rose to head height. Concentrating with a frown, he aimed it at the archer above him.

"Thrysta!"

The stone shot off towards him at a lightning pace. The man saw what was happening, but couldn't do anything about it. His mouth was wide open in shock as the stone cracked him on the forehead, killing him instantly. He fell forwards off the building, colliding headfirst with the ground below. That did it for the last two archers, who cowered back into hiding.

"Well done!" Brom exclaimed, grinning at his ingenuity. With a growl of concentration, the old man drew his sword and threw himself into battle with the remaining ground soldiers. Eragon joined him instantly, swinging Zar'roc from its sheath.

He parried and swung at his opponent, who regarded him with a scowl. It was a young soldier, no older than one and twenty, with an unpleasant face and rotted teeth. He lashed out at Eragon with alarming venom, but the Rider knew what to do from Brom's lessons. He kept his composure, not allowing himself to get carried away. Eragon maintained his distance, staying defensive, eyeing the soldier's sword with careful deliberation.

Nearby, Brom thrust his sword through the tunic of his own enemy, who uttered a piercing cry. When the old man retrieved the weapon, it was stained with blood and fragments of bone. Looking around, he charged at Eragon's opponent, who turned to face him rapidly.

In that moment, Eragon rushed forward and lunged with a practiced movement. The tip of Zar'roc buried itself in the side of the soldier's neck, before pushing itself through to the other violently. With an unusual croaking noise, courtesy of his windpipe being sundered by the blade, the man gurgled a mouthful of blood and his eyes rolled back. Eragon ripped the sword out with a grunt, and blood began to pour out through both wounds, completely obscuring the dead man's face. Zar'roc seemed to gleam with delight.

He looked at Brom, panting, although not from weariness, and blinked as the old magician nodded solemnly.

"Come. We have to leave before more show up," Brom declared, sheathing his weapon. He gazed at Saphira. "May we?"

Saphira inclined her head, her mouth tainted with human blood, and just a little of her own. She had taken a few wounds from swords and arrows. "You may. I can carry all of you. But… where is Harry?"

Eragon started, almost forgetting about him in the fray. He blamed himself for their predicament, so it was disgusting that he was standing there resting, when a Shade could be tearing him limb from limb! He hastily climbed onto Saphira, feeling much safer already. Brom hesitated briefly, before climbing on behind him. He looked around for a moment, before sighing and reluctantly putting his arms around Eragon for support.

Eragon ignored him. "Saphira, we have to hurry! That Shade could be killing him for all we know!"

"Where are they?" she asked urgently, preparing to take off.

"Just follow the bloody explosions!" Brom exclaimed, as an ominous laugh filled their ears with chills.

Saphira threw herself into the air, ignoring any lone archers who dared to take a pot shot at her magnificent frame, and flapped her wings in the direction of her other friend.

Harry deflected another sword blow with heavy arms as Durza smiled at him with evilness. He could have sworn Saphira had roared a few minutes ago, but there was no time to dwell on that. He had to ensure he survived until she arrived, not that it was currently difficult. Durza was toying with him, but could have killed him in an instant if he so wanted. As it stood, however, he still didn't even bother to try and assault Harry's mind.

Harry sidestepped a thrust from Durza's blade and responded by swinging at his head with a backhand movement, but the Shade merely deflected it with utmost ease and redoubled his efforts, speeding up with each attack. He was a much better sword fighter than Harry, and would have won had the duel lasted for a sustained period of time, without doubt.

"You. Are. So. Weak." Durza spat between each blow they traded.

"You. Can. Go. And. Shite." Harry retorted insolently. With a thought of inspiration, he feinted aiming up high, and swung for Durza's knees. The idea was good, but he merely jumped over the blow and kicked Harry in the face, sending him sprawling across the ground. Harry gasped as he felt his nose. It was broken, and blood now covered the lower half of his face.

Durza smirked yet again. It seemed to be his own way of being arrogant. "You don't even know the true mysteries of the arcane arts," he half-whispered. "You would use a pathetic spell like that green light to kill someone, but there are so many more… poetic ways to do so. It almost feels like… cheating, does it not? As though it is tailor-made for the weak?"

Harry ignored him. If he wanted to be creative when killing someone, he would be an evil bastard, just like the Shade. He much preferred simpler spells, although avada kedavra still rang in his ears, with his own voice, like unholy music. He would have to get used to that. He had already killed a lot of people in one go, so he couldn't exactly get much worse, could he?

Harry took a glance at his wand, lying on the street. He had tried to maintain a distance, but the Shade had grabbed the wand with shocking ease and had tossed it down the road-aways. He wanted to test his physical abilities as much as magical.

"You want to know how I found you?" he simpered, a thought of inspiration hitting him suddenly.

Harry shrugged. "How?" he asked blankly, glaring at him with intense concentration, as he was wary of any sneak attacks. He ignored the throbbing pain in his nose.

"…you do know of a spy in Teirm, do you not?" Durza asked, lying. He had heard of the spies from his conversations with the king, and decided they were less important than divulging his true power. If they were kept unaware of his ability, the boy would invariably lead him straight to the Varden. It was the only reason the boy was still alive. They knew the rough position under the mountains, but an accurate location would be invaluable for the king's planned Urgal assault.

Harry blinked. It appeared as though Brom and Jeod had been correct in their deductions. Without another word, he launched himself at the Shade, sweat pouring down his clothes and face, his hair messy and his glasses half-broken. The Shade also noticed that.

"They are… mysterious things you wear in front of your eyes."

Harry ignored his mind games, and began to execute a complicated series of poses he had learnt from Brom, whereby he balanced slightly on his side and sprung at his opponent from a narrower angle. This allowed him to freely weave his sword before it clashed against Durza's, giving him time to think of a strategy.

"Do they help with your vision?" Durza asked, as he parried Harry's swipe at his shoulders with a flick of his sword.

Harry gasped, panting as he stood back a little. With a rush of determination, he drew himself up to his full height once more. He was going to die, but he wasn't going to give in without a fight. To distract Durza for some much needed breathing time, he nodded.

The Shade tilted his head to one side, looking at him curiously.

How can that help with sword-fighting? Harry thought bitterly.

"It's a pity…" Durza said slowly. "After all… what use is a vision aid if you have no eyes?"

Harry blinked, not understanding. The Shade raised his hand.

"Garjzla!"

A beam of red energy shot out of his palm and hit Harry squarely in the face, as he couldn't dodge in time. Harry screamed in pain as he fell to the ground, covering one side of his face in agony. He blinked as the pain vanished, but his screams took a few moments to die away.

His glasses lay on the ground.

Silently, he picked them up, seeing that the right lens had been smashed. Harry held them in both hands, surprised, and noticed that his vision was obscured. He blinked, closing his left eye for a moment longer than the right.

There was no vision in his right eye. He felt his heart lurch in horror and instinctively tested out both eyes, but it was no good.

He was blind in one eye.

Harry stared at the ground, wide-eyed, before glaring up at Durza, who hadn't moved. "Fuck you and your piece of shit traitor," he spat, uttering more profanities than befit his personality.

Durza laughed, high and loud, his pointed teeth adding to the effect. "You may have spirit," he crowed, "but I am the darkness and its spirits themselves. You can never beat me!"

Harry stood up determinably. His tiredness had vanished, replaced only by pure hatred. His one good eye gave him a view of the man before him, and he felt enraged at his smugness. He realised how close his wand now was.

"You're wrong," Harry growled. "Darkness is nothing. It's just an absence of light, and I am that light-bringer."

With a rush of movement, Saphira roared from above, and dived towards the Shade. In the confusion of the guards nearby yelling in terror and Durza frowning, Harry rolled to the side and grabbed his wand. Durza realised what was happening, but it was too late.

"Lumos maxima!"

The safety of his holly and phoenix feather wand seemed to explode beneath his fingers in a shower of dazzling whiteness, as a glow brighter than the sun itself erupted from its core. Durza howled in agony as he covered his eyes, and Harry instinctively shielded his own for protection. With one, final rush of adrenaline, he sprinted towards Durza, sword in one hand, and spun around, roaring like hellfire itself.

The Shade was still blinded momentarily, and couldn't block. Aiedail sliced through skin and bone like tissue and butter, sending Durza's head flying to the ground. Harry stared at his lifeless corpse for but a moment, before the soldiers began to swear and fire arrows at them. He ducked and climbed onto Saphira's lowered back, behind Brom and Eragon. With a slight grunt of exertion, she took off into the sky, and took them away from Teirm.

Before they were too high, Harry aimed his wand at the ground.

"Accio bow. Accio quiver."

The objects flew up and he caught them, hugging them for comfort. He blinked back tears as he continued to test his right eye, to no avail. Brom noticed his restlessness, but didn't say anything as Saphira landed beside her earlier hiding spot after a few minutes of gliding. The horses had been picketed there, but Harry couldn't have cared less how.

Without a word, he mounted Godric, and the three of them galloped as hard and fast as they could, while Saphira flew overhead for support. She had been seen by many people, Eragon knew, but that didn't matter. He dimly recalled guards shouting anxiously as she flew overhead.

Once they had put several leagues between themselves and the city, it was pitch black. Owls hooted from the depths of the Spine, which they had rode into, and crickets could be heard in every direction. They rode all evening and all night, and must have travelled almost to the edge of the Spine beside the great plains, which was no mean distance. Beside them, the Toark River could be heard flowing along peacefully. It provided an oxymoron to the day they had suffered.

When they stopped, Eragon was alarmed as Harry physically fell off of his horse onto the ground, where he refused to move.

Brom quickly dismounted and ran to his side. He was awake, but in a state of exhaustion. Brom grimaced as he saw his face. His nose was broken and the lower half of his face covered in blood. Not only that, but the iris of his right eye had turned scarlet. Harry sat up straight at Brom's command, grimacing as he did so.

"You were right, Brom," he whispered, and Eragon was alarmed at how faint his voice sounded. "Shades really are tough."

He laughed, before it transgressed into coughing. He spat a mouthful of blood onto the ground beside him. Brom frowned and quickly fetched his skin of water, which he threatened to physically pour down Harry's throat if he refused to drink.

Harry drank half of it in one go, aware the river was nearby. He gasped as he stopped for air, feeling just a tiny bit better. He used the rest to wash the blood of his face, grimacing as he brushed his broken nose. He could mend that with a spell later.

"That… thing blinded me in one eye," he said, his voice breaking.

Eragon and Brom exchanged a look, before busying themselves to help put the young magician to bed. It was relatively safe in the trees, and Saphira said that she refused to leave their side, regardless of who came along.

"I… I killed him, though," Harry said, smiling weakly. "I guess I won in the end."

"I'm afraid you didn't," Brom said gently. "You can only kill a Shade by piercing his heart."

Harry's smile faded. "Oh… but… I did kill a lot of soldiers, about thirty with one spell, and… one of the Ra'zac too."

Eragon's eyes widened.

"Thirty with one spell?!" he asked Saphira, slightly aghast. She mirrored his disbelief.

"Harry is merely delirious, little one. But I did notice a dead Ra'zac on the ground. The other woke up and fled as soon as I appeared."

"About that," Eragon began, but Brom waved him away.

"We'll talk tomorrow. Now, you better lie down and sleep, before I knock you down," he threatened sternly.

"I… I just wanted to say 'thank you'," Eragon said to Harry quietly. "For killing one of the Ra'zac. The other is alive, but we'll get it soon enough."

Harry nodded, staring from his bedroll at the starry sky above. Things had moved so quickly it seemed quite surreal, to be honest. He wouldn't sleep tonight, not with everything that had happened. He rolled onto one side and felt the area around his ruined eye as Eragon walked away, but his quiet reflection was not to last.

A clear voice rang out, and Harry instantly readied himself for another fight.

"Don't move! I don't want any trouble, but I'm not afraid to use this bow!"

The speaker was a male, but Harry couldn't see him in the shadows. He narrowed his eye, trying to adjust to the horrible feeling, but found that it didn't make a difference.

Eragon felt reckless. He drew his sword, imitating Brom, and jumped to his feet.

"Good for you, friend! The three of us are magicians, and I have a dragon! I hope your bow is fire-resistant!"

There was a brief silence, broken only by the crickets and owls that seemed to be prevalent in the area, before the young man stepped forward, visible only in the moonlight. Brom had staunchly refused to build a fire, not that they had even asked.

"It's true, then," he said quietly. He threw back the hood on his cloak, revealing a face of no more than twenty years, framed by locks of dark brown hair. He carried a finely-strung bow, and wore a hand-and-a-half sword at his belt. He grinned. "I've found you at last!"

A:N - If you're confused about what Durza was actually doing in Teirm, let me say this: he's an arrogant, over-confident Shade, so it stands to reason he wanted to test his abilities out. Harry just happened to be who he could sense. Yes, he inevitably would have tried to capture Eragon and bring him to the king after beating Harry, but obviously he didn't get that chance. I also don't think there's been quite enough magic in the story for my liking thus far, so that's going to change from here on-wards. As always, feel free to PM me with any questions.