The Forsworn were drawing nearer, the dragons flying in a tight V that spread outward from the midnight dragon. Vrael was shouting instructions to the dragons and riders, ordering them to get into position and be ready to fight. Brom leapt to Saphira's back before turning to me.
"Hide, Angela, get out of sight! You can't fight here and you know it." I hesitated, looking at the enemy. He frowned. "You are still weak, and that is not even mentioning the fact that you have an oath that will prevent you from fighting."
I nodded reluctantly and went into a near copse of trees, sitting down in the shadow of an ash tree, my heart pounding as I waited for the fight to begin. I did not want to watch for a terrible sense of foreboding had spread throughout my body, but at the same time I found myself entirely unable to turn away from the impending bloodbath.
The two forces met in a clamor of roars and the resounding of steel. Immediately one pair fell though I was unable to see whose side they were on. It was an awful and yet awesome fight as I watched the battle, unable to assist in any way. Several dragons were on the ground, a few grievously injured or dead, others still fighting.
It went all right until Galbatorix called on his masses of eldunarí. A bright emerald dragon crashed to the ground not thirty paces from where I waited, the vibrations from the impact running through my body. I tried to push the sickening crunch the impact had made from my mind, but could not. It had been imprinted upon my memories with terrible vividness.
A massive surge of power seemed to sweep outward from the rider of the black dragon and there was a sharp crack. Vrael's dragon began to spiral out of control at an alarming speed toward the ground. Even as they were about to crash, Umaroth spread his wings wide, injured and uninjured, and gave one mighty beat, screaming out in pain as the wind ripped at the broken wing. He landed with a crash, but Vrael slid off uninjured before quickly tending to his dragon's wound.
More riders passed into the Void as the fray grew longer. Then the wards on the wild dragons fell through, unable to be supported by the remaining number of fighters. It was a second's pause as everyone froze, and then the single most horrible thing I had the misfortune to witness came to pass. Shouting a word of death in the ancient language, Galbatorix grinned with triumph. The remaining eleven of the wild dragons died as one, their limp and lifeless forms falling to earth like stones.
Shock hung in the air for the briefest moment as fighting stopped among the Forsworn as well as the remaining order of riders. However, as Shruikan landed beside Umaroth and Galbatorix drew his blade, advancing toward Vrael, the bloodshed began again. I cast my eyes about to find a flash of sapphire on the ground. Panic overtook me for a second before I saw Saphira move, darting her head at a larger ruby dragon, fighting to sink her teeth into his neck. Brom guarded her closely, fighting Morzan without restraint, swords dancing in the light. They were within a far stone's throw of my hiding place. For an instant I was tempted to abandon my refuge and fight, but then my small supply of common sense made a rare visit. No matter how much I resented it, Brom was right in the fact that I was injured. I would be nothing more than a nuisance to the weakest of the Forsworn if I even tried to match blades with them.
Three dragons remained: Umaroth, Saphira, and a muddy brown dragon whose name I did not know. A single rider who had lost his dragon in the earlier months also fought. Blood stained his body but he paid it no heed. Death was in his eyes. The only thought that remained was to take down whoever he could with him. One of the Forsworn had been taken down, but the rest remained, surrounding the last of the order.
They reminded me of the livestock as they face the last seconds before the slaughter. They fought and resisted the impeding fate that they knew was coming their way. Their loss was inevitable, but they fought.
A high, piercing cry broke through the air and I tore my eyes away from Brom and Saphira to see, to my horror, that Vrael's dragon, the most ancient of the riders, was in a heap on the ground, a sword planted hilt deep between his jeweled eyes.
What followed was, if anything, even worse. In the instant of distraction that followed the death of the ancient one, a black dagger flew from Moran's hand, severing the spine of Saphira. Then, Morzan laughed.
At that moment, there was nothing else I could do to hold myself back. My own life meant nothing, and the chances were that I would be found eventually were high enough that I intended to do something. My sudden appearance was enough to off balance Morzan the slightest bit. The minute hesitation in his attack allowed Brom to raise his sword and block the killing blow that was about to fall. Saphira was stretched out on the dirt, her eyes clouded as life faded. I knew it. She knew it. Morzan knew it. And Brom knew it. There was no hope. Through the tears and blood, Brom fought on, seeking to avenge the partner-of-his-heart.
The ruby dragon turned and stalked over to me, a low growl rippling from his throat. I feinted and then lunged toward the dragon's neck, but he was ready and leapt back. Behind me, I was vaguely aware that the rest of the Forsworn were not fighting. They were waiting, waiting like vultures to descend once the kill was finished. Vrael and the brown pair fought Galbatorix and an olive green dragon and his rider. Almost forgotten on the perimeter of the battle stood the dragonless rider. Partially concealed behind a willow tree, he chanted in the ancient language, a glow seeming to come from his skin. No one seemed to have noticed but me.
One of my double blades bit sharply into the red dragon's talon and caught. The beast ripped his leg back, tearing the sword from my arm. We met each other's eyes and time seemed to stop. The leg he had raised to end my life on the earth hesitated and I saw something in his eyes. I recognized it as pain, not physical, but something deeper, something profound. The leg went over my head and I recognized that the dragon had spared me for the moment. An eternity seemed to pass and then I felt a light pressure on my mind. It was not a risk I would have taken if I sought to live, but I lived only because the dragon before me had delayed his killing of me. I lowered my barriers.
There is no hope, Little Elf-human. Not for you. Not for me.
An image filled my mind and I responded, beginning to fight him again with moves of a deadly dance, not intending to injure or kill, but to give the impression of a battle. What do you mean? I demanded.
The Forsworn will conquer. Freedom and liberty will die. They are power-hungry, all of them. They care not that by their hand will come the destruction of the land.
I swiped at his nose and he responded with a scorching burst of flame. Then why do you fight? I demanded of him, confused and angry. I saw Brom fall as Morzan's sword laid open his stomach. Saphira was lying in a pool of her own blood, shallow, weak breaths filling her lungs. With every one, I doubted more that the next would even come.
He has my eldunarí, child, my heart-of-hearts. I froze in shock for an instant and lowered my blade slightly. There is no hope for me, Little Elf-human, none at all. I have no choice and no name. Even now I feel my identity slipping away from the magic of the dragons. In the time it takes a week to pass I doubt that I shall even be able to speak as I do now.
There was a moment where it seemed that the twisted rider of the black dragon would fall, but there was a pause as Vrael gazed at the one who had at one time been his student. In that moment, as Vrael hesitated to take the life of one he had at one time cared for. But the only repayment for the mercy was dealt out with a crooked grin. Galbatorix's sword bit deep into Vrael's side. Time had stopped. In the heavy blanket of silence that seemed to fall despite the noise, the words of the single rider rose and fell with a rushed cadence. My ears caught a few words and widened as I realized what he was doing. The Forsworn seemed to notice at the same time. There was fear and then panic as they sought to get into the air.
Morzan's dragon looked at me once more. I am sorry, but I wish you luck. Before I could even think to defend, I was struck by the foreleg of the blood red dragon and felt something in my chest give as I was knocked to the ground, my head also slamming against the earth. Morzan paused only to remove the sword from beside Brom before climbing onto his dragon and following the others.
In the chaos, the brown dragon had grabbed Vrael in his claws and took to the skies, beating a retreat out over the churning sea. Sitting painfully from where I had been knocked, beside Brom and Saphira. As my mind cleared from the pain and confusion of the blow, the energy from the Thuviel, the elven rider, began to pulse. Then without warning, his body crumbled into nothing and the power expanded outward. Only the conditioning of my teacher Gwendolyn saved me. Without thinking, a strong shield expanded from me and was buffeted violently by the shockwave.
My energy was draining quickly as I fought the raw magic that was pulsing against it. Not realizing, I sank back to the ground, but cheek resting in the blood-soaked earth. A large blurry shape of deep sapphire and a small, dark form beside it slid in and out of focus. Right before the last of my awareness faded, I felt a gentle and weak touch on my mind.
If he lives and if you live, tell him to keep fighting. Tell him…
Then death came. Whatever else the dragon wished for me to tell her rider was lost to the Void. As darkness took over my vision, I made a silent vow. I would honor the last request of the aquamarine dragon if I could. But first, I myself would have to survive.
I don't really like the ending so much, but I think it will do. And if anyone has any advice for writing these battle scenes, or could tell me how this was –brutal honesty is preferred– it would be greatly appreciated.
Review and tell me what you think!