Aww, no reviews that have come in recently so I have no one to say thank you to! :(

On a good note this chapter should hopefully get some of you 136 viewers to take a quick moment to show what you think about this chapter!

136 hits! wow. . . Awesome!

Chapter #3 Segie under the Mountain

The slow in and out of Eliot's breath peacefully awoke Arya. In the back of her mind she was scared of what Eliot was capable of. But another part made her trust him even more because he was able to protect himself. After a few moments Eliot's breathing patterns returned to normal breathing pattern rather than the shallow ones of sleep. His chest rumbled slightly, she could feel the outside of his mind, it was quite strongly formed. But in a way different than human, dragon or Elf. Nothing got through unless he allowed it. Perhaps that was the source of his strange powers.

The barriers acted not like a magical force but the absolute pure force of his mind.

Tapping his side he raised his tent like velvety wing away from here admitting her to the light of the new day, then she spotted a dwarf in the entrance, a silent message passed between them and she began strapping on her armour.

The cave was dark, save for the faint light trickling from the shuttered lantern near Eragon's bed, but Eliot could make out a figure in the entrance to their cave. The dwarf looked around nervously, as if trying to distinguish shapes from the oily shadows. The silver dragon sat up straighter, gently walking over and shaking Saphira.

Saphira, he whispered. Wake, up. There's a dwarf here and he seems agitated.

The blue dragoness grumbled and raised her own head to look. After seeing the dwarf Eliot mentioned, she rose and moved over to where Eragon was sleeping. She gave him a not-so-gentle nudge with her snout, and he shot awake. The commotion caught the dwarf's attention and he began talking very fast. "Argetlam! You must come quick! There is great trouble – Ajihad summons you. No time!"

Eragon fumbled out of bed and automatically began dressing. Arya stood near the doorway fully dressed carrying Eliot's saddle. Looking to the agitated dwarf, Eragon asked, "What's going on?"

The dwarf only shook his head, his beard bouncing. "Go, you must! Carkna bragha! Now!"

Belting on Zar'roc and grabbing his bow and arrows, Eragon strapped the saddle onto Saphira and climbed aboard. He looked over at Eliot who was also ready and already launching himself and Arya into the air. So much for a good night's sleep, groused Saphira, and padded out of the cave. Once in the open, she launched herself into the air.

Orik was waiting for them when they landed near the main gate. He stemmed the tirade of questions from the rider and dragon, saying that he didn't know any more than they did; Ajihad would explain once they got to his study. The two hastily made their way through Tronjheim and to Ajihad's chambers.

Inside, they found Ajihad, Arya, Eliot and another man who was introduced to the pair as Jormundur, Ajihad's second in command. The group gathered around the large wooden table, and Ajihad delivered the bleak news; less than an hour ago, a dwarf had come running out of the tunnels injured and frightened, claiming the a horde of Urgals were approaching the city.

A din of voices echoed throughout the chamber as everyone began talking at once. Ajihad called for silence and explained further that the Urgals were not coming through the mountains, but under them. Apparently, the Urgals had set up a settlement in a abandoned dwarf city near the Surdan border in the Beors. It was here that the beasts had been migrating all year.

Jormundur asked if they knew how many Urgals there were, but Ajihad merely shook his head. He and King Hrothgar had come up with a plan to collapse several extraneous tunnels that led into the city, forcing the Urgals to come at Tronjheim in one of three main tunnels. This is where the Varden would mount their defense of the city. Ajihad turned to Eragon and Saphira. "I need the two of you to assist the dwarves in collapsing the tunnels on the outside of the city. Arya and Eliot will assist a group underneath."

"We'll do what we can," Eragon assured him.

"Jormundur, see to the men. Tell them to prepare for battle."

After flying around for a few minutes, they located a bundle of lanterns that lead them to the right spot. Eragon explained to the leader of the group that they were here to help, and the dwarf led him to an open patch of ground, stating the tunnel they wanted to collapse was directly below this point.

Eliot, any idea's?

Look for any weak spots in the ceiling, Arya and I will be underground with another group.

Eragon paused. Good luck.

The same to you my friend.

Eragon reached out with his magic, whispering, "Thrysta deloi." He felt his power encounter rock, but he pushed on, to the hollow space underneath that was the tunnel. Instead of trying to uncover the tunnel, he focused on its ceiling, looking for weak points or cracks he could exploit. Every time he found one, he pushed on it, making it wider and deeper. Nearby, Arya worked on another tunnel deeper underground, adopting the same method. To the dwarves, all they could see were the human grimacing and staring at the ground, and they began to grow impatient.

But he persevered. Another few moments passed and a pair of deep cracks were heard through the soil. A loud screech, and the ground in front of Eragon caved in like water flowing into a hole, leaving an opening several yards across. Ten seconds later, the same thing happened with Arya's tunnel, and the delighted dwarves set to work walling off the tunnels with the rubble. The leader of the group led Eragon and to another set of tunnels. Over the next few hours they worked on, collapsing nearly ten tunnels around Tronjheim. Saphira lent them her strength, but the work took its toll on him.

A loud shout echoed through the tunnels, Arya ran sprinting out a dozen dwarfs behind her. And the tunnel began collapsing completely. Eliot did not exit.

Saphira began searching with her mind frantically but was halted by Arya. Without warning the ground began to tremble, dust forcing its way into the ground. It swelled together and pulled down, an extremely loud crack could be hear for a mile around as the solid earth was blasted away and Eliot staggered out of a deep hole.

Never. He gasped pulling in a deep breath, make me do that again.

Arya threw her arms around his thick neck. I won't. she promised.

And without further hesitation they flew back toward the mountain city.

As they flew light began to creep into the mountain through the crater's opening, and Eragon took the chance to look around at the landscape. At the base of Tronjheim, the Varden and dwarves began assembling their army into three large battalions. There were regular swordsmen, as well as rows of spear- and pikemen. Towards the rear, lines of archers readied their bows. A small figure detached itself from the far battalion and approached the dragons. As it grew closer, they recognized it as Orik. Laden in the heavy garments of war like his kinsmen, the dwarf looked quite imposing beneath the layers of steel and mail.

He waved them forward. "Come, Ajihad wants you to join the army. There are no more tunnels to collapse, and we have some food waiting for you." Orik led them to a tent where two loaves of bread and water were set aside for Arya and Eragon; Saphira helped herself to a large pile of dried meat in the corner along with Eliot. The food was simple, but they all ate without complaint. Eliot kept looking at Saphira, when she looked up he caught her eyes and hurriedly brought his eyes back down to the food. When they had finished, Orik told them to wait and disappeared out of the tent. He returned a moment later with a line of dwarves all carrying various large pieces of plate armor.

Eragon lifted one of pieces and inspected it. It was of very fine make, engraved with markings and gold filigree. Nearly an inch thick in places, it was also very heavy. No man could fight under this weight, he thought, and there were far too many pieces for a single set of armor.

Orik beamed at them. "Gifts from Hrothgar. They were lain so deeply among our other treasures we had almost forgotten about them. They were forged in another time, before the Fall."

"But what is it?" asked Eragon.

"Why, it's a dragon's armor of course!" Orik laughed. "You don't think the Riders would go into battle without having their dragon's protected did you? Complete sets are rare, as they take a long time to make and dragons are always growing. Still, Saphira and Eliot aren't too large yet, and it should fit them nicely."

What do you think? Eragon asked, turning to Saphira.

Let's try it on, she said, a gleam in her brilliant blue eyes.

She looked at Eliot for permission to be fitted first.

He parted his fangs slightly in a smile. By all means ladies first.

Arya stepped forward to help, and between the two of them, they managed to fit all the pieces together. As they stepped back to admire their work, the two riders were struck with a sense of awe. Saphira's entire neck, save her spikes, was encased in overlapping plates of armor. Her belly and chest were protected by the heaviest plates, and the lighter ones encased her tail. Her legs and back were completely covered and her wings were left bare. On her head sat a single molded piece of armor, leaving her lower jaw free to bite and snap. She arched her neck experimentally, and the plates flexed with her. This may slow me down, she said, but it will stop the arrows. How do I look?

Eragon patted her on the chin. "Very intimidating."

She hummed contently.

Fitting Eliot's armour was a lot easier, it took a quarter of the time of Saphira's. He swung his tail, testing flexibility.

What do you think Arya? His eyes sparkled dangerously, ready to fight with undying courage against the incoming army.

She gave a short nod. "You are both ready."

Orik then presented Eragon with several pieces of armor for himself. A stiff shirt of leather-backed mail went over his torso, bracers were strapped to his forearms and greaves to his lower legs. On his head went a leather cap, mail coif, then finally a gold and silver helm. A pair of mail gloves adorned his hands, and lastly Orik handed him a wooden shield bearing the Varden's crest.

Eliot turned to Orik, Tell Hogathar his gifts are much appreciated.

Orik laughed, "Thank us later when it saves your life!"

The warriors around them began marching away, and they followed. The battalion moved into position at one of the tunnels that had been collapsed and left open to corral the Urgals were the Varden wanted them. Rows of sharpened saplings had been dug into the ground, providing a thorny barrier between the men and dwarves, and the attacking Urgals. Above the openings, large cauldron's of pitch were heated by several fires, waiting to be poured into the holes to further stem the tide of foes.

The two riders rested against Saphira and Eliot's flank's and waited. Orik rejoined them a while later, having helped build a barrier to protect the Varden's archers. He sat next to Eliot, then jumped up with a curse when Saphira drew their attention to another newcomer: Murtagh. The dark-haired young man was leading his war-horse Tornac, carrying his sword and a dwarven shield. At their frenzied inquiries, Murtagh explained that Ajihad had released him, stating that the Varden needed every person they could get to fight.

Orik offered his hand, and Murtagh clasped it tightly. "Could always do with another sword arm."

Ajihad appeared then and briefed them on what was going to take place. One of the Twins would be watching the battle from atop the dragonhold and relaying information to his brother, who would be alongside Ajihad. The leader of the Varden asked Arya and Eragon to report anything out of the ordinary to the Twins, as he knew they could also speak with their minds. Although the thought of being linked made the two boys want to wretch, they knew it was necessary, and nodded in agreement.

Both Arya and Eliot agreed that Eragon should fight from Saphira's back, as it would be safer for both Rider and dragon to remain on the ground, lest they be targets for the Urgal archers. Orik and Murtagh would keep the foot soldiers away from her, so Eragon could focus on the Kull that were likely to be present.

Saphira lowered her head and nudged Eliot's shoulder. Just stay close to us, she said.

Don't worry, he pressed his forehead against her snout. They'll have to get through me before they lay a finger on you.

Saphira snorted. You think I cannot handle myself in battle? I am no mere hatchling; I don't need you to protect me, and you are going to be needing my help more likely.

That still won't stop me from trying, he assured her. She looked at him for a moment more, then relented, and gave him a small lick, he froze.

Just don't be reckless, Eliot. I couldn't bear to see you hurt, I do care for your safety. Eliot froze. Did she also had the feelings that he had for her? Only time would tell.

You know my shoulder is an effective pillow? He picked himself up and slumped down again but much closer to her.

Saphira blinked sleepily. If that was an offer I might take you up on it.

Eragon looked toward Arya nearby, her sword at her waist and and elegant bow in her hands. He hurried over to her, concerned. "You are really going to fight then?"

"I do what must be done," she said evenly, not showing the kindness Eliot hoped, he flinched minutely and that emotion trickled to Arya.

"But, it's too dangerous!"

She eyed Eragon with a dark look. "Do not pamper me, human. I am not one of your weak females; elves train both their men and women to fight. I failed to protect Saphira's egg, and I would be further disgraced if I did not protect my dragon and you and yours. You forget that I am stronger in magic with my dragon now. Should the Shade show up, who could defeat him but me and my dragon?"

Eragon heard the truth in her words, but he still felt uneasy. "Then...just stay safe." In the ancient language he added, "Wiol pomnuria ilian." For my happiness. Arya turned her head away uneasily with Eliot's emotions telling her not to respond, and said no more. Eragon retreated back to Saphira and the others, sitting next to Murtagh.

Farthen Dur fell into an uncomfortable silence as everyone waited for battle. Eragon passed the time by both examining the links of mail on his armor and spying on Arya. Orik sat nearby, running a whetstone over his war-axe, the rasping sound of the rock being drawn over the metal echoed around them. Murtagh simply stared into the distance. Every now and then, a messenger would run out of the tunnels and the rows of men and dwarves would surge to their feet, only to slump back to the ground at the false alarm. The worst part was the lack of wind under the mountain; the air was dead, motionless. The drifting smoke and haze from the fires only added to the discomfort.

Eventually, darkness returned to the field, and Eragon found himself staring out of half-lidded eyes. Orik said they should try and sleep now while they could. Using his shield as a pillow, Eragon leaned up against Saphira's foreleg and watched Arya and Eliot who were engaged in some sort of mental contest, his eyes drooping, but still unable to close.

He sat next to the dragoness head, softly stroking her chin and neck. His own thoughts wandered through his head, and he felt a cold pit forming in his stomach. Saphira had been uncharacteristically silent as well, no doubt contemplating the future herself. She lifted her head and brought it to rest on Eliot's wing. Are you scared? she asked quietly. He swung his head around.

Absolutely, he replied humorlessly.

He felt Eragon drift off and then Arya, they fell into a shallow sleep.

Shortly afterward a messenger ran up, its time.

He gave a short nod and Eliot blew smoke over Arya's eyes and she began to stir.

Dark shapes and horned beasts swirled behind his eyelids. Voices kept reaching out to him, but were indistinguishable. He slept shallow and uneasy, until a hand touched Eragon's shoulder and he jerked awake.

"It has begun," Arya said grimly.

The once still battleground surged with movement as men and dwarves climbed to their feet. Orik swung his ax in a wide arc, ensuring he had enough room to wield his hefty weapon. Beside him, Arya notched an arrow and climbed into Eliot as he made a menacing hiss mixed with a growl. Eragon climbed onto Saphira as the dragoness tensed, ready for battle. All eyes were focused on the dark entrance ahead.

Rough shouts and sounds came from the pit suddenly as shadowy figures became visible. A sharp bark from one of the Varden commanders, and the cauldrons of boiling tar were dumped onto the horde. Screams followed, as the attacking Urgals were burnt and scalded. A pillar of flame appeared as a torch was thrown in and an inferno engulfed the beasts. More of their brethren trampled over the fallen Urgals and surged towards the encamped Varden.

The Varden's pikemen stabbed viciously at the oncoming horde, but were all too quickly overrun. With a deafening roar, the two armies collided. Saphira bellowed at leaped into the fray tearing into a Kull with her fangs and talons. Atop her back, Eragon parried blows from additional Urgals to protect her vulnerable wings. Blood spurted along Zar'roc's length and the crimson blade shone with glee.

Out of the corner of his eye, Eragon saw Murtagh, his face plastered with an angry snarl as he swung his sword mercilessly, smiting all who came near. Several feet away, Orik was shattering the necks of Urgals with mighty swings from his ax. At his back, Arya was a blur, her lightning fast blades slicing through Urgals as if they were parchment. Saphira turned, and Eragon saw Eliot open his maw and flames explode to life roasting an Urgal as it made a frantic scream.

An Urgal bowled over a wounded Varden swordsman and charged at Saphira. His war-ax skated of the armor protecting her front leg, and Eragon slashed Zar'roc into his head. The blade stuck in the horns however, and the weapon was yanked from Eragon's grasp. Cursing, he jumped out of the saddle and tackled the falling Urgal, pulling Zar'roc from its skull. He rolled to the side as another feral beast charged him.

Saphira! Eragon cried, but the tide of battle had separated them. He heard an angry roar and felt a wash of rage come from her, but he couldn't reach her. Suddenly, a Kull jumped at him, swinging a large club. Eragon stabbed out with magic, breaking the Kull's neck. Four more Urgals fell to the crimson blade's gleaming edge before Murtagh rode through the mass and came up to Eragon.

"Come on!" the dark-haired youth shouted, and hauled Eragon up into the saddle. Murtagh spurred Tornac with his heals and drove the horse towards Saphira. The dragoness was surrounded by twelve Urgals wielding spears, and they had managed to prick both her wings, but that was as far as they got. A bloodcurdling roar echoed across the field, and a brilliant explosion of silver light incinerated three of the beasts. Planting himself between Saphira and the attacking Urgals, Eliot had become death; the intense fire in his silver eyes was matched only by the dead Urgals suspended by his mind who had approached the dragoness.

Eragon was momentarily stunned by the ferocity of his new friend, but quickly came out of his shock. Arya and Eliot worked together in deadly harmony as they carved a path wide enough for Eragon to remount Saphira and she took off. As they rose, Eragon looked back to see both Murtagh and Arya engage another group of Urgals, both faces a grim mask of determination.

Saphira circled the madness of the battleground, giving both herself and Eragon a brief respite from the fighting. Their muscles were clenched and twitchy, the adrenaline pounding through their bodies. After a few moments, they dived at the rear flank of the Urgal, managing to kill several of the archers there before they were sighted. Eragon and Saphira repeated this tactic on all of the three columns, and their heightened vantage point gave Eragon a clearer view on the progress of the battle.

It was not going well. Slowly but surely, the Varden and dwarves were being forced backwards towards Tronjheim. The endless tide of Urgals streaming from the tunnels began to wear down the valiant defenders, although Eragon noticed that the different groups of Urgals did not seem to be following any specific leadership. Remembering Ajihad's orders, he relayed his findings to one of the Twins atop the dragonhold. The spellcaster acknowledged this stoically, the ordered Eragon to assist Hrothgar, whose battalion was suffering.

Eliot's limbs burned with fury and adrenaline. Arya!

Cursing she dashed over the heads of several Urgals. Link your mind with mine.

WHAT! Do you know that it could effectively kill us both if either one of us was to die!

Eliot smiled grimly, its a chance we have to take. Quickly.

Arya hesitantly let herself fully into his mind. Her muscles screamed with power, she became more aware, faster, stronger and her heart pounded with the rhythm of the ancient language. You know its name. She gasped silently.

He grinned wolfishly, would you care to use it?

Eragon was chopping through another Urgal when an absolutely massive explosion occurred, Urgals flew back screaming, and there body's smashed into their comrades, swords lifted themselves from injured soldiers, their skin pieced itself back together, in the center of the swirling energy Arya sat atop Eliot, she yelled and Eliot roared his challenge to the heavens.

Lightning crackled through the ranks of Urgals, killing many of them. As suddenly as the spectacular display of power started it ended, Eliot collapsed with Arya atop him. He was panting heavily. Soldiers cried out as the now hesitant Urgal army slowly lost the upper hand and the Vardan began to push them back.

That was incredible. How do you keep the ability to use such power in check! Arya shouted in his now separate mind.

You have no idea what I know, if I were to use that magic too much I would lose who I am to my darker self. He paused. Eragon is heading for the hold!

True to his word moments later Eragon asked for her assistance in repairing Saphira's armour. He glanced, knowing what had happened, May a curse live on the empire's soul. The shade! Hes below the hold!

He looked over at a blazing fire with a few dead bodies on top of it. He wordlessly began drawing its energy, once he had enough to fly he took off. Jump to Saphira I must go help Orik!

She frowned, stay safe. . .

I will, he hummed weakly.

She jumped over onto Saphira's back.

He flew for a few moments over the battle as the last of the Urgals were pushed back, but not before one of them saw him drifting weakly above the battle, they aimed crossbows at him. Suddenly his world shattered into fragments of light. Three bolts pierced his wings. He toppled from the sky. His head was jarred by the force at which he hit the ground. The world slowly began to fade. The last thing he could do was manage to cast a spell to shield his body from anyone who might do him harm. And then the world disappeared into darkness.

Meanwhile Eragon faced his own dilemma

The Twins had told him that the noises were coming from the main hall of Tronjheim, which was directly beneath the dragonhold. Eragon's only option to get there quickly was to ride down the Vol Turin, the long staircase that wound itself up the side of the city...or more precisely the polished trough that ran beside it. Throwing himself to the smooth stone, he flew down the trough at breakneck speeds. The swift descent lasted several minutes, and Eragon had to fight the rising nausea he experienced when he came to the end. Standing finally, he was just able to get a grasp on his surroundings when a sharp explosion split the air.

A large section of the floor erupted and the hulking figures of Urgals streamed out from it. Eragon grasped Zar'roc in preparation to fight, but was stunned when another figure emerged from the hole...Durza.

The Shade was garbed in fine black armor, and the Urgals gave him a wide berth. Upon locking his crimson eyes on the shocked youth before him, Durza ordered the beasts to surround him, but not to engage. The Shade wanted that pleasure for himself. "So, my young Rider," he said evilly. "We meet once again. Only this time, you will not escape so easily."

"You will never capture me alive," Eragon swore.

"We shall see," the Shade said, his voice dripping with malice. "Now tell me, where is your dragon?"

"Never."

"Then I shall force it from you!" Durza whipped his pale blade towards Eragon, who barely managed to block the strike with his shield. As he struck with his sword, the Shade also lashed out with his mind, trying to force his way into Eragon's. The youth battled back, but just as he was in physical combat, Eragon was poorly outmatched.

The pair traded blows, both at each others bodies and minds, neither one willing to back down. Eragon felt his strength wavering, and in a last-ditch effort, threw himself at Durza. The Shade smashed him in the head with his shield and Eragon's neck throbbed as he was flung back. Not hesitating, he threw his own shield at his opponent. Despite his superior speed, Durza was unable to move out of the way completely, and the shield clipped him on the hip. Eragon took this advantage and stuck out with Zar'roc, catching the man-demon on the arm. A howl came from Durza as his concentration slipped and Eragon thrust forward with his mind. The effect sent both of them reeling.

Eragon was unprepared for the tidal surge of images and experiences from the Shade's mind. He tried to gain some balance, but the force of them was overwhelming. Durza turned, fury in his eyes, and charged Eragon with his sword raised. The youth was still trying to close his mind, unable to raise his own weapon. Time seemed to slow down. Eragon saw the sword coming, but he could do nothing. The Shade smote him heavily across the back, slicing through both mail and skin. He screamed as pain blasted through him, obliterating all thought. He could feel the hot blood seeping down his back and he looked towards the heaven, bracing for the end. Eragon could barely stay conscious, tears running down his cheeks. He had failed. Everything; the Varden, Saphira...all would be lost.

A deafening report broke through the air, and a blinding light caused Eragon and Durza to flinch. Eragon blinked rapidly to clear his vision and stared upward at the sight that befell them.

The star sapphire had shattered. A massive wave of dagger-like fragments plummeted towards the floor...and in the center was Saphira. Jaws open wide, and from between them, a torrent of yellow flame tinged with blue erupted outward from her maw. On her back was Arya, her dark hair billowing wildly and her hands alight with a green glow.

Time slowed as Eragon saw Durza look upward to this new threat. A word formed on his lips as he pointed towards the falling dragon, his face distorted in an evil sneer. A hidden reserve of strength welled up in Eragon and he curled his fingers around the hilt of his sword. He plunged through barrier in his mind and felt the magic rush into his body. Eragon focused all his pain and rage into a single, powerful word: "Brisingr!"

Zar'roc burned with a bloody light, flames dancing along its length, and with the last of his energy, Eragon drove the sword through Durza's heart.

The Shade looked down at the blade piercing his chest with wide eyes and an inhuman howl came from his throat. His skin crawled with swirling patterns of darkness, and he shrieked even louder as the shadows began to pulse through him. A final scream came from him as he was rent from head to toe, the darkness rushing out of him and passing through the stone walls in a flash. The Shade was gone.

The last of his energy drained, Eragon fell back to the floor. The last thing he saw was Saphira and Arya falling, but slowing at the same time…

Arya picked herself off the floor, Eliot! she yelled with panic.

Relax elf he is being taken care of by the Varden's healers. A voice said.

With that thought she quickly healed Eragon's back and at a new presences orders. Left the room.

Eliot sat outside waiting for her. She sat down and thanked the healers around them for helping him. He stretched his head into her lap and quietly drifted off into sleep as she began stroking his head.

*munch munch* Reviews are feel good food for the person who writes a story!