Eragon sat on the sub-saddle behind Arya on the flight to meet the elven forces she had sent to the coast days ago.
Despite himself, Eragon felt a buzz of excitement as he anticipated the coming battle. The purpose of this would be to display power, not kill, and Eragon realized that this kind of 'fight' was something he had wanted for a long time. He wanted to show his power, to make others fear him, and he hated himself for it. Although, said a particularly mischievous portion of his mind, you'll give them a warning. It's their fault if they die.
Eragon familiarized himself with the idea after a while. It was necessary, after all. He knew Saphira would have loved to flaunt her power, she often did on the battlefield, and he felt an ache in his chest as he felt the place where their connection should be. He was far enough out that their connection was severed, and he tried to occupy his mind from its cold state by connecting with Fírnen and Arya, who had let him into a communal mental space.
They had all been discussing elven poetry together when the elves and Nasuada's magicians came into view in the distance, and the conversation returned to strategy. Eragon had impishly refused to share anything of his plan other than it would be big, but the general understanding was that they would warn the approaching fleet to leave and never return. If that failed, they would start destroying things until they either surrendered and left or were unable to continue.
I'm gonna give Fírnen a moment to rest his wings. Want to do an 'I've returned' speech?
Not really. I'm not into speeches.
I thought so. I'll do it for you, then.
Just to let you know, my plan starts when we land. I am going to use Brisingr at long range, so they're getting their warning then.
They landed on a large ship with the front cleared for Fírnen, and Arya dismounted, With Eragon only unbuckling his arms from his sub-saddle and sitting upright.
He could tell that Fírnen was trying hard to look dignified and not start sniffing at everyone like a mutt, for he shifted uncomfortably in place instead. This was new for him, seeing people outside of civilization in such a tired, sweaty crowd. The humans were sweaty, that is. In addition, Eragon doubted Fírnen had ever seen the ocean or a boat.
Eragon ignored the gasps and whispers in his presence, he focused instead on using magic to send his sight over the waves of the ocean. He found the fleet only eight hundred leagues out, and would have blanched at its size had he not the Eldunarí and this elite force of magicians by his side. He started his preliminary plan, pulling Brisngr from its hilt and whispering its name. Though his vision was not with his body, he used his feeling to align his body correctly, bringing the blade up in front of his face and dipping his head so as to signal he was not planning on attacking anyone around them.
He then employed a method of fire magic he had perfected back when he had first learned of Brisingr's inner magic. Every lantern on the ship, extinguished for the daytime, sprung to life simultaneously with ethereal blue flame. He felt a minuscule drain on his magic as he cast the spell, no more energy being used than if he had walked for ten feet. He focused his mind and fluctuated the heat of the fires, changing the pitch and sound of its roaring until it formed a deep, unearthly speech.
Now for the fun part.
"Who enters these waters?"
The chaos that ensued was almost humorous, the people on the ship began panicking, some had already dropped to their knees and begun praying to whatever deity they worshiped. He then put his sight on the adorned ship in the front and center of the charge; he had done this in hopes that the leader of the fleet would be there.
He had been correct, but apparently 'leader' was plural. Three hooded women that had been standing among the crew snapped their heads up simultaneously, crimson eyes focusing in on Eragon's clairvoyant eye, which should have been invisible.
He didn't know how he hadn't noticed the women before, but they were certainly Shades. The Shade in the center spoke, their face staying impassive as they did so.
"We are the representatives for the Monarch of Fiol. State your name."
He hadn't heard of the Monarch of Fiol, but if he got several Shades to work for him, he was a force to be reckoned with. Eragon could only hope this new king wasn't on the same level as Galbatorix.
"My name is Eragon Shadeslayer, Grandmaster of the Dragon Rider Order and ender of the hundred-year reign. State your purpose here."
Shadeslayer wasn't a name he heard frequently since he had defeated Galbatorix, but he was sure as heck going to use it when interacting with Shades. He wasn't afraid of them, even though they were powerful, he was certainly more powerful with the Eldunarí with him. He could easily dispatch of them if he wished. In fact, he planned on it.
"We have come to conquer the new land of the east for the Monarch. This should be obvious, with our fleet of battleships."
"I just wanted to hear you say it. You have until I reach you to turn your ships around and go back to Fiol. The singular ships among you who surrender will be spared, even if the entire fleet does not leave. All others will be destroyed by the might of Alagaesia."
"You stand no chance against us, Shadeslayer. No one of this world does, no matter how many of you there are. We can destroy a hundred magicians, a thousand. Your fire and titles will not deter us from our goal. You are the one who should surrender."
"Sorry, I didn't bring my white flag with me, but I have no need for it. I am much more powerful than the three of you combined, and it's almost pitiful that you think otherwise. However, I'll have no pity for Shades. Again: leave, surrender, or die."
To Eragon's satisfaction, several of the ships in the fleet were already flying white flags; linen tunics hastily strapped to the mast. Several of them that were on the outskirts of the fleet peeled off and began turning, afraid to be anywhere near the ghostly presence. A sizable fleet remained, however, enough to blanket Dras-Leona end-to-end.
The Shades paid no attention to the deserters, they kept their focus on Eragon's ethereal eye.
"Our fleet is protected by wards laid over the course of years. You cannot break them."
Now, that was news. Still, it wouldn't stop them from destroying a few of the ships and scaring the rest away. Actually, the power of the wards also depended on their nature and the fact that their magicians would have had to lay wards on every individual ship. That limited them in complexity, they wouldn't have had enough time and energy to ward every ship against everything; if they tried, each ward would be easy to break due to the lack of attention on it.
"I broke into and destroyed a singular castle that had wards placed on it over the course of a century, your timescale of placing wards on hundreds of ships does not intimidate me."
Eragon felt someone tap his shoulder, and he weakened his clairvoyance enough to hear Arya state they were taking off. He gave her a thumbs-up and gave one last statement to the Shades before breaking the clairvoyance fully.
"We're on our way. This is your last warning."
He ended Brisingr's fire and sheathed it, rebuckling into his sub-saddle.
As Fírnen took off, Eragon focused on their mental connection and said,
There are three Shades on the boat leading the charge. They say that the ships have been warded over the course of years. That's probably not an issue, seeing as there are hundreds of ships and their resources would have been spread thin. Our best bet to make them retreat is going to be a show of power and the destruction of the leading ship along with the Shades; that ship will be more warded than the others, no doubt. They're invading in the name of the Monarch of Fiol, have you heard of him?
You and I can take down the Shades while Fírnen brings down dragonflame on the rest of the ship. About Fiol, my informants have gathered that it's a large empire with about half of the land mass of Alagaesia but with a much greater population. Thankfully, magicians are few and thin among them, most of the people we've questioned say there are only five. The Monarch itself is universally referred to as the Monarch, no usage of king or emperor; and no name, either. I haven't gotten much more information than that.
Fírnen huffed.
There are three Shades and three of us. I can crush a Shade easily.
I understand your indignation, Fírnen, but for one thing, you can't use magic, and for another, you have to stab the Shade through the heart, crushing isn't going to cut it.
I withdraw my statement.
Thank you. And Eragon, you will need to sate my curiosity later on how you talked to the Shades and why you needed Brisingr to do it.
I will do that. Fírnen, the center of the fleet is more to the right.
Fírnen slowly banked to the right until Eragon notified him that he was aligned.
When no one spoke for a short while, he touched Fráskila's container, connecting to her and Fyrira's mind. He gave a briefing on the information he learned, and Fráskila responded; Fyrira stayed silent.
This is speculation, but it sounds like the Monarch of Fiol is a Shade themselves. Why else would Shades refer to them with respect, and why would they choose a genderless ruling title? Shades are chaotic, they care for nothing and fear nothing. Durza worked for Galbatorix but wanted his position. They used Urgles to fight for them, they didn't charge into battle themselves. These Shades are acting the opposite. They are respectfully crediting their leader, and they are leading the charge into battle, putting themselves in danger. Some of the other Eldunarí are agreeing with me on this.
Then they made a mistake by attacking an Empire whose Dragon Riders have the name 'Shadeslayer'.
Be cautious, these Shades are likely going to be acting as a unit, they will be three times stronger than usual. In addition, we don't know if there are other Shades or magicians. If that group of Shades wanted to, they could easily create and organize more Shades. Durza was a loner, and Galbatorix would have stopped him from making more Shades for the prevention of resistance, but Shades have organized in the past. Do not get too confident just because you have us to assist you.
Ok… I hope there aren't more, but 'prepare for the worst and hope for the best'. Do you want me to bring you into the link I'm sharing with Arya and Fírnen to discuss this?
That would be more convenient, yes.
Eragon checked with Arya and Fírnen and then linked Fráskila into their conversation. She explained her thoughts, and they seemed to worry Arya much more than it had Eragon. That made sense, for Fírnen had never fought before and couldn't use magic; he would stand no chance against a single Shade, much less several unknown Shades that could be lurking in the shadows. The more Eragon thought about it, the more worried he became. The one time him, Arya, and Saphira were faced with the true power of a Shade, they would have been mentally destroyed had any one of them been alone. With three Shades, the Eldunarí were their only shot at withstanding the psychic force, so if Fráskila's heart of hearts was destroyed, they would be done for.
Ayra seemed to be thinking the same thing.
Maybe we need another plan; Shades were not part of the previous one. We obviously can't let them get to Alagaesia, but facing them head-on without more information could be deadly.
Fráskila interjected.
Eragon, the wards on my container are strong enough to withstand a hundred Shades, you needn't worry about me shattering. Arya, we can return to our fleet and leave Fírnen on the leading boat to defend the magicians. Fírnen, Arya will be fine, I will allow both her and Eragon to draw upon our power.
Fírnen refused to argue with the older dragon, but he huffed his indignation, trailing a dark cloud of choking smoke through the air. Arya nodded at Fráskila's statement, and Fírnen banked back towards their fleet. They landed once again on the large boat, and Arya immediately began discussing the change of plan with her head magician. They would sail and meet the fleet head-on, Eragon and Arya would magically fly over to the Shades' boat a league away, and the defending fleet would split down the front of the opposing fleet before turning to head the same direction and casting magic behind them.
Arya and Eragon dismounted and stood silently at the bow of the ship, watching the dark smear in the distance clarify into a sea of masts and sails.
Nightfall had begun by the time they came within a league of the opposing fleet, and neither of the two Riders had spoken a word, they had been entranced by the sea and the promise of battle.
Eragon turned to the elf at his side.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes. Are you?"
"Relatively."
–
The three Shades appeared to be waiting for Eragon and Arya at the bow, and they immediately began their mental assault once they were within range. Fráskila and the rest of the Eldunarí held it off easily, and they continued unburdened to land easily.
"Letta," they said at the same time, ending their flight. He lit Brisingr and stepped slowly onto the deck, feeling a sense of power that buried itself in his mind. Once both of his feet were on the deck, he heard a psychic scream coming from Fráskila's Eldunarí, and Eragon felt a silence of mental activity from anywhere outside of the boat. Arya staggered, and he heard a pained roar from Fírnen back on their own boat.
The Shades smiled in unison, and he immediately collapsed under a psychic attack unlike any he had ever endured. Saphira was not here to assist him this time, and they were facing three times the amount of force they had with [insert name of last Shade that Arya killed here]. He retreated into the very back of his mind; unable to resist at all without the help of the Eldunarí. His consciousness curled around the one memory he absolutely needed to protect- the Name.
After an uncertain amount of agonizing survival, the assault suddenly ended. His vision returned to him, and he saw three smoking skeletons lying on the ground in front of him, blue flames flickering around them on the wood. Eragon absentmindedly extinguished them, blankly staring into space as his mind repieced itself from his flayed memories. Arya was going through a similar recovery next to him, but her recovery was faster.
He dispatched a couple of charging soldiers offhandedly as he realized the situation. Brisngr had, somehow, killed the Shades as his mind was under assault, and he realized how much he didn't know about the blade's mysterious properties. No, not killed, he thought, we didn't stab them through the heart.
He conveyed the realization to Arya, and she nodded in acknowledgment. The other soldiers on the ship were already running in terror; apparently they had already killed the brave ones.
Eragon remembered why they were there and sent his mind into the enchantments on the ship, speaking the Name mentally and unraveling them. Arya took a moment to reconnect with Fírnen, and Eragon felt Fráskila sink into the comfort of Fyrira, however they may disagree, and the other Eldunarí.
The two Riders incanted and leapt into the air, sustained by a magical force as they hovered above the ship. Refueled by the Eldunarí, he incinerated the ship in a flash of blue flame; all that remained was ash. He found a great many more ships flying white flags and smiled, his plan was working.
Arya was casting spells incessantly, her elf song taking on a haunting edge as ships were impaled by spikes of ice and soldiers went mad, attacking their companions. Eragon focused on a nearby ship and launched it into the air with a massive explosion, feeling as if he had done no more than lift a small boulder. The ship's return to the water took out even more ships, and he had to incinerate some shrapnel before it hit a nearby surrendered vessel. He fell into a rhythm of fire, exploding, incinerating, and burning ships with deadly efficiency. The boat of magicians arrived then, and the destruction multiplied; the magic in the air was almost palpable. To Fírnen's disappointment, no invading force got near the boat he protected, but he loyally stayed at his post until Arya summoned him.
With Arya protecting him from projectiles and breaking wards on the ships, the dragon bathed the enemy vessels in green flame and tore hulls apart with savage delight. Before long, every ship remaining had surrendered, and the fleet was moving to retreat. From his vantage point, he told Arya and the head magician that no enemy ships were remaining, and he heard a cheer from their ships as the news spread.
They had won. They shouldn't have, but they had won.