Three weeks later I was let out of my prison. A guard led me straight up to the throne room, as I expected. I couldn't think straight, my body felt weak and bruised, which I knew it was, and my head pounded as the light hit my eyes for the first time in weeks. Before I knew it the guard slammed his fist into my back, forcing me to bow before the king.

I didn't see the cruel smirk upon Galbatorixs' lips, but I knew it was there. He got a sick thrill out of seeing people in pain, especially me. Finally the man spoke,

"You know Murtagh, I've always thought of you as a son, you must know that," I ground my teeth together and the guard forced me back up, pulling me by my hair. This being the first time I looked at the man who thought of me as his son, I only just now saw what he held.

The red blade caught the light and momentarily blinded me, but I managed a small smile. The king saw my smile and waved the guard off. The guard reluctantly released my hair and clothes and left.

"Come on son, this sword is yours by right."

My smile grew and I took a step towards the throne. Galbatorix didn't move so I continued, and once at his feet I bowed on my own. He held the sword out to me and I grasped the hilt, staring into the sapphire. It seemed to smile back at me, as did the blade as it caught my reflection. I held the blade across my palms and looked up at Galbatorix.

He looked, what was the word I was looking for…pleasant? He was smiling, a happy smile. What had happened in those three weeks? What brought about this sudden change in character? I was still expecting the worst.

"Tell me Murtagh, have you learned your lesson?" he asked calmly. I nodded and replied quietly, going for remorse,

"I have, sir."

I watched him nod and I bowed my head. As much as I hated to admit it, I respected this man, however cruel and malicious he might be. But that respect had its limits and he knew how to push them.

The king sighed after a moment and said,

"Go get cleaned up, I'll see you for dinner." He sat back in his throne and I left silently, after bowing once more, with my fathers' sword, my sword.

Once out of the throne room I relaxed and went to my chamber, glad to finally be allowed in my own room. I peeled off my soiled clothing, wincing as the scars from my recent lashing sent pain through my back. I hadn't gotten a good night sleep in weeks, so I collapsed onto my bed and closed my eyes.

Within a few seconds of my mind wandering I could feel myself drifting. Before I knew it I was walking along the roads of Carvahall, the streets empty except for me. Why was I here? I've only ever been here once, and that was years ago.

All I could hear were the dull echo of my footsteps against the dirt and a muffled sob. I followed the sob into a small house, and there lay Nasuada, Galbatorix standing over her. Galbatorixs' sword was covered in blood, Nasuada's blood. She looked at me, her beautiful eyes cloudy and she whispered,

"Murtagh…I love-" but she didn't finish, her head fell to the side unmoving. Galbatorix looked over at me and growled, his eyes black.

"You!" he grabbed for me but missed and I fell back, waking myself from my dream. Covered in perspiration I sat up, breathing hard. Nasuada.

Rushing from my room I ran outside to the pond, still breathing hard. 'No, she can't be dead. I'll prove my vision wrong,' I thought frantically. I kneeled at the water's edge and whispered,

"Draumr kópa." Dream Stare. The water blurred, trying to form the picture that I sought. It kept blurring and I shook my head. "No…" In anger I slapped the water, disrupting the spell and splashing water everywhere. My eyes squeezed shut and I held my face in my hands.

I sat there for a long time, scrying time after time with no luck. She couldn't be dead. My mourning turned into hate, and my hate into rage. Before I knew it I was running towards the castle, Zar'roc in hand. I threw the doors open to the throne room and Galbatorix looked up calmly.

"Murtagh, my boy, we missed you at dinner," he said softly, glancing back down at his papers.

"Did you kill her!?" I yelled at him angrily, storming up to his throne. He glanced back up at me and replied with a smirk,

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't Murtagh, I really don't keep track these days." That set me off, I grabbed his tunic and pinned him back against the throne.

"Nasuada," I hissed, "Did you kill her!?"

He laughed, "The leader of the Varden, Murtagh? That's who you're speaking of?"

When he saw that I wasn't laughing, that I was serious, he peeled my hands from his tunic and sat back.

"Murtagh, what do you care? Why would you be so interested in the life of that scanty whore?"

Rage took over and I grabbed the man's neck, forcing him back against the throne again. He choked out a laugh and two armed men grabbed me from behind. I was too angry to deal with them, I wanted Galbatorixs' blood.

Breaking free of their hold I grabbed Zar'roc and with two strikes they were both down, out of my way. I cried out in rage and for the first time in my life saw fear behind the king's eyes. He got to his feet and reached for his sword but I was too quick for him. Zar'roc pierced his chest and he gasped, dropping his sword.

My face was inches from his and I knew he would hear me, "You know I think of you as a father, don't you?" I twisted Zar'roc with a flick of my wrist and yanked it from his flesh.

His eyes narrowed and his body fell limp at my feet. I killed the king of Alagaesia. The penalties of which would be dire. I didn't care, I had nothing left to live for, nothing left to fight for.

I stepped away from the fallen king and turned to leave, I needed to get out of here. I made my way towards the exit and froze. Someone stood in my way. Eragon. He took in the scene and unsheathed his sword. I noted the blue blade and listened as he spoke,

"You are Morzan," his eyes turned blue as he tapped into Saphira's power and he uttered a single word in the ancient language. I felt the air being sucked from my chest and I tried to take in more but I couldn't. He had used a word of death on me.

A loud clang sounded as my sword dropped from my hand and I fell to my knees. Eragon came up next to me and grabbed Zar'roc and ran out, leaving me for dead.

I heard the door slam and I closed my eyes, falling onto my side. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think, all I could do was wait. Wait for death.

The door opened again and I forced my eyes open, but my vision was blurred and I had to blink a few times to see straight. I felt my head being lifted and levitated. My eyes adjusted as I fought consciousness and I saw the lovely face of my Nasuada.

Her eyes and cheeks were wet with fresh tears and she held my head on her lap.

"Murtagh…" she cried, touching my cheek, "Murtagh, I'm so sorry…"

With what was left of my strength I gripped her chin and brought her lips to mine for the last time. When she pulled away she sobbed loudly and held me in her arms.

I felt weaker than I've ever felt, and my eyes closed again, and all I could see was darkness.