"The emotion that can break your heart is sometimes the very one that heals it..."

- Nicholas Sparks

All That Remains

Chapter 2: Those Who Live

He was back.

Kagome tried to ignore his presence, but she found it so difficult! He was not the kind of man that made ignorance easy. His face was too stern, his eyes too grey, and his posture too rigid.

"Will you relax?" she finally muttered. Her voice was a hoarse whisper to her ears, but it she had not used it since the battle. She blamed that, and lack of water, for the negative impact.

Water.

She nudged away the small cup of it regretfully. 'They' replaced it sometimes, never looking surprised to find it full. The dwarf men that visited simply shot her a dirty look and wandered off… and he stared at her.

He never stopped staring – like now for instance. They stared at each other relentlessly, and it almost amazed her that she still did not know the man's name. She would have to get on that. "Not likely."

Whatever. They fell back into uncomfortable silence... She did not know how much time passed in the quiet, only that she was focusing on him: his steady breathing, his closed eyes, the leg that he had thrown out in front of him.

She could murder him so easily.

I don't have time. Just let it go. Letting it go definitely sounded like a good option. She had to think of more than just herself… she had to think of the people that were waiting for her.

With that thought in mind, she was finally able to let go of her obsessive staring and get onto bigger, better things – wallowing. It was becoming her favoritest past time.

She was going bonkers; she knew it. She had grown used to counting seconds while in the company of Durza, but time passed oddly in a cell and her hours were running together. Somewhere in the time that Brom had left, she had started to unravel.

She could feel herself coming apart at the seams; memories popped up, terrifying her and slowly driving her insane. Sometimes, she swore that Durza stood before her, laughing. Others, Gunnar was there, begging for forgiveness. It broke her heart.

Yet, the memories and visions were only part of what led to her insanity. The emotions did her in. She never stopped worrying about Eragon and Brom, and could not bring herself to imagine them still caring about her. Now, though, she had renewed worries about the family she built within Galbatorix's empire. The first few weeks, she would have never thought that she would make friends there. Especially not the kind that she felt so strongly about. Yet, she had: Dewain, Melanie, Hannah, Gunnar… Serenity.

Images of them plagued her the most. Three of them were already in a bad boat with Galbatorix, but what would he do now that the Varden had her?

… What would he do to Carvahall?

Her breath caught in her throat, and she could barely swallow passed the lump that grew there.

He will not touch them. She told herself He cannot touch them if he wants me back. But there were so many what if's that went with that statement, and her overactive brain went through them all.

She had to distract herself.

She forced herself away from Carvahall – No one will touch them- and back to the more realistic threat.

It felt different now though, as if what happened to them did not mean as much as what happened to the people she grew up with. Still… she did care about them. Theirs was a bond forged through hellish conditions, and wise alliances.

"Rider, where are you going?"

A smoky voice cut through the silence that embedded itself in her quarters. She cringed, but did not turn. Instead, she continued to pack her things into Cinder's saddlebags. "You know you aren't allowed in here." She teased. She packed away the rest of her necessities in a flash, and stepped away… straight into her commander. Before she could move, he grabbed her firmly by her waist. "Gunnar?"

"Kagome," he tried again, "where do you think you're going?"

She rolled her eyes, vaguely annoyed. She hated when he used that tone – he knew it too. "Cantos, by order of his majesty." She replied easily, and her hands moved to his in a useless attempt to pry them off.

"How long will you be gone?"

His voice tightened, and her lips twitched into a faint, teasing smile. "Awhile."

"Rider."

She ignored him, and again tried to free herself. It did not work. After a minute of straight failure, she sighed and gave up, "A week, at most." She tapped his fingers, and he loosened them, knowing what she wanted. That made her smile. She turned in his grasp, and her eyes locked with dark brown, "I'll be fine." He seemed more irritated than his voice gave credit. His eyebrow wrinkled, and his lips tugged into a pout. She ran her finger along his scar. "Really."

"Will you?" he scoffed, released her, and began to pace. "You've never killed before."

"I never mentioned killing."

He did not miss a beat, "That's what it is Rider… you're going to Cantos," he paused and added, "He asked the same of me, weeks ago, but I refused."

"I didn't realize you were in a position to refuse him anything." She snorted playfully, but her smile disappeared soon after, "Why did you do it?"

Again, he paused, and his eyes darted to hers. He raised an eyebrow, and his expression hinted on exasperation. His message rang loud a clear. 'Why do you think?'

She swallowed, thinking back to weeks ago – what had her commander been doing? Then, it dawned on her, "Dewain."

"And you."

"Serenity kept me put together." She shook her head, and he scoffed a second time, "You didn't have to stay for us."

His arms crossed, and afternoon sun made him look like a silhouette as he stopped pacing in front of her large, plated window. She hesitantly went to his side, "It wasn't just for the two of you; I didn't want to take part in such mindless slaughter." His voice dropped into a low whisper, "I should have known you would be his next choice." He peered at her from the corner of his eye, and she could read his guilt.

"I don't blame you Gunnar," she finally replied after minutes of only hushed breathing. She sighed, reaching up on her tip toes to kiss his cheek, "I-"

The flash of silver in her peripherals ruined their most defining moment. He broke away from her; she took a step back. "Dewain? What are you doing here?"

"… I came to see you."

Rough hands pulling her to her feet snapped her from her reverie. The chains around her wrists dug into her skin painfully, and both her stomach and knee protested against the sudden change in her posture.

Her face collided with a hard chest and hands closed around her wrists as the perpetrator released her from the chains. The restraints were only off long enough for him to tie rope in their place. Then, he pulled her away, and grabbed her arm and she caught sight of his face.

Her face formed into a scowl; of course, it was the man with grey eyes.

In that moment, dislike began to brew inside her, more wild and angry than even her hatred for Galbatorix – for it was uncrippled by fear. If the look in his eye was anything to go by, the feeling was mutual.

The door opened and in came the guard. He stood to the side, giving his surroundings weary glances. The man with grey eyes shoved her through the doorway, and her body teetered on the edge of balance. Then, it did not. Her weak knee smashed into the floor, and it was all she could do to keep a scream from passing her lips.

"Murtagh." The guard huffed reproachfully, "Be more gentle."

Her eyes spiked as she recognized the name he spoke, but she reacted in no other way. Having a name to pin to the cold, stern, face was not as helpful as she imagined. She struggled to her feet, stooping so low as to clutch Murtagh's arm. He shoved her off.

"As gentle as she was when she slaughtered children in Cantos?"

The little man – she had now deemed the guard a dwarf- had no answer for that. She saw his lips turn into a deep frown, causing his long beard to shift, and bushy eyebrows curled toward each other.

Kagome's lips curled into a deep frown, and she forced herself to hold back biting remarks. She had killed many innocent people that day, but not kids. Durza gave her this –unintentional- mercy when he joined the fray.

Even she drew a line somewhere.

"We need her walking."

Murtagh grabbed her arm, "Then she'll walk."

He shoved her again, and she steadied herself against the closest wall. That's it. If Cinder did not kill him first, she would get the job done. Her temper was flaring against her better judgment. She had to force herself not to attack him.

The rest of their walk was a test of wills. He seemed intent on making this walk unbearable for her, and she refused to give him the pleasure. She wore every bruise like a weapon, and held her chin high.

She barely noticed the beautiful structures they passed: the columns, carvings, and even the stone doorways that normally would have left her in awe.

Their reasons for releasing her from the dungeon could not be pure. Were they taking her to be publicly shamed? No, that is something Galbatorix would do. She thought, but a little voice in the back of her head assured her that the Varden could not be too different from the Capitol.

If there was another, obvious reason behind this escapade, she did not see it - that made her nervous. Maybe Cinder is there. She had enough control over her magic to allow their escape; she was sure of it… but only if he was near.

A lifetime passed before they reached the outside world. The dwarf guard threw open giant wooden doors, complete with painstakingly detailed engravings, and the bright sting of morning light stung her eyes.

Murtagh's hand still lay on her arm, and he jerked her into action. There were people everywhere… not just men in armour: women, children, farmers, merchants. They all glared at her just the same, and she realized that she was the enemy.

She had known it before, she supposed, but knowing and seeing are different things.

As if she truly needed another blow to her self-confidence, a man stepped forward. She met his eyes, albeit hesitantly, and wished that she had not. They burned hers; pain, sorrow, anger.

More than that, she recognized him… but from where?

His jaw clenched tightly, and she limped passed him with her chin pointed straight forward.

It was probably nothing. She had seen many people while in the capitol… but why would a man of the Varden be in Urû'baen?

They finally stopped walking at the outer rim of what she recognized as the battlefield. Bodies covered the area and the blood of men and Urgals ran together; all that remained of the hundreds or thousands of dead.

A crowd had gathered here, and she caught sight Eragon leaning on a man much larger than him. Murtagh began to lead her the other way, but she could not tear her eyes off the blood-soaked cloth covering his back. What happened to him?

Her leg screamed as she resisted Murtagh's lead, and, if she had looked, she would have noticed how he looked at her with grudging respect.

"Eragon!" She called, sounding worried even to her own ears. Why is he standing when he's bleeding this badly? Do the Varden know nothing? A bunch of idiots, the lot of them!

Eragon turned, swaying a little and sent a small, surprised grin her way. "Kagome!"

The part of her that had decided she 'didn't care' about Eragon disappeared in that moment. As if a light had flickered on, warmth spread through her body, unheeded by vows of 'trying' to capture her former best friend. She had tried, she had failed… and now she was free of that vow.

He waved her over, as though she was not his enemy, and she limped toward him in response. Murtagh stopped her, and glanced between them. Finally, he wordlessly took a short knife from his belt and cut her hands free.

"Thank you." She left him, and went to her friend.

He remained silent, even as she to wrap her arms around Eragon's neck. He did not trust the girl, but he knew Eragon did. The look on his friend's face said it all. He struggled to lift his arms, frustrating him for several moments. Yet, stubbornness prevailed. His face rested on her shoulder, and Murtagh felt certain the boy would cry.

Kagome buried her face in his neck, murmuring, "Eragon." And receiving a simple, "You're back."

"Your back." She replied irritably, and pulled away. Then, she glared at him sternly, "Why are you walking around with an injury like that?"

He winced, and she finally noticed how red his face was. She settled her cold hand on his forehead and chewed on her bottom lip worriedly, "Eragon you're burning up."

"I'm fine," he insisted, "besides, Brom's returning."

She had not known he left.

Kagome tried not to let her surprise show on her face. "Couldn't you wait?" Until you aren't dying? she added.

"Not really." He replied sheepishly.

She scoffed. Leave it to Eragon. She froze, and her eyes widened as she realized just who she was acting so familiar towards. Shit.

She had to stop this now; before she became too comfortable… she knew that. Yet, she could not tear herself away from him.

"You look so different." He said quickly, hoping to turn her attention from his injury. He was not lying either. She looked different; her freckles had disappeared, along with the scar that had once adorned her cheek. It was a souvenir from one of their many 'adventures'. Her long black hair had grown passed her waist and looked soft, despite the crusted over dried blood, dirt, and grease. He did not remember her cheekbones standing so prominent before either, and her eyes seemed different… more catlike.

She smiled, just a little, and he decided he did not mind the change – even if he did prefer his Kagome. "As do you."

She felt uncomfortable as he inspected her closely, and shifted on her feet. Thankfully, his attention changed forms only a second later, his eyes brightened, and a faint smile pulled at his lips. "Saphira."

His dragon emerged from a tunnel, stunningly blue and elegantly shaped. She was beautiful, Kagome would admit it… but not as beautiful as Cinder.

He followed close behind her, and was much bigger. His scales shone bright as glass, and he towered over the other dragon. If she did not know better, she may have thought he was showing off. He held himself taller than usual, and his chest was puffed out pridefully.

He did not notice her, so she reached out with her mind. His clear, undrugged mind surprised her, as she slipped into the connection unheeded. Why was he not drugged? Why was he walking around the Varden?

Why were the majority of them acting as though it was normal?

She did not think of it long, the overwhelming surge of happiness that connecting brought forth distracted her. His eyes found hers in the crowd and she could feel the smugness radiating from his form.

She smiled faintly. Cinder, there you are.

I've been worried about you. He answered, They told me their drugs would keep you asleep for a few days.

How much time has passed since the battle?

Four days.

What about your morning dosage?

They're giving it to me. He chuckled, I'm fine, really.

She rolled her eyes, but relaxed a little. It had not been as bad as she assumed. Beside her, Eragon was staring into space. Do I look like that when we're talking?

Smoke puffed from Cinder's snout. Worse.

Great.

Someone yelled, "Here they come!" and the area around them quieted immediately. Kagome swallowed hard.

Men came into view. There were five in total, and among them Brom and Ajihad led side by side. One man wore a helmet, and the final two were identical, tall, and bald.

She froze. The Twins! She stepped away from Eragon. She looked away from them long enough to register his confusion and the soft look in his eye. When she turned back; they were staring at her. Eragon took hold of her hand, "Hey it's alright. Brom doesn't blame you for what happened near the waterfall."

How does he know about the waterfall? Brom must have told him about his near death experience.

She pulled her hand away, and focused on Brom, or more specifically on the large, purple sword that lay on his hip: Enāmbracr.

If the Twins were looking at her suspiciously, she knew she was in deeper trouble than she had thought. Galbatorix's hold on her was weak, and he had done it on purpose. An experiment on 'loyalty', he had told her. If Galbatorix suspected that her imprisonment was something else... we would start killing her friends. Their agreement about Carvahall would be null and void!

She swallowed thickly, and concentrated on her magic. She had just enough for a low key ice spell under her control. One chance; no distractions. Cinder.

I am ready. He knew they had to leave, and he was on the same page. Clearly, she loved him for a reason.

The group was getting closer, and she began to anticipate them. Inwardly, she planned how she would take the sword, analyzed how long it would take to get to Cinder and make it back to the cave entrance, decided on who she would take out of she had to.

... When, out of the haze, shapes began to take form behind them. Five of them. They slunk into place behind them, and even at the distance they were spaced, Kagome knew they were Urgals.

Urgals wielding weapons; Urgals that rose those weapons to attack.

No.

A scuffle began, picking up dust, and causing chaos to break out around them.

Kagome panicked. She could save him; she could save all of them. She could… but, no distractions; she did not have the magic for it. She had to escape. She had to get away.

Brom…

Someone screamed, and she dove into action.

In armour, she was unnaturally fast, but out of it, she was deadly. She was in the fray before any of them knew what was happening. Including her.

Her fist slammed into the Urgal that went for Brom, and she turned swiftly to grab Enāmbracr from his waist. Undbitr lay beside it, so she felt no grief over leaving him without a weapon.

She barely had time to turn back before the Urgal she had knocked down was attacking again. She dodged his poorly aimed club and slashed through his arm. "Gwinda." she hissed, pushing him off balance. She finished him.

Another was coming at her, too quickly to dodge. "Isheim dareagh." From her hand shone blinding white and the Urgal fell. A spear made from ice protruded from its stomach. The magic left her drained, and she desperately wished that more of her power had come back.

She beheaded the next Urgal that came too close, and they were finished. Brom had not been as defenseless as she assumed, having taken down two himself.

She gave herself that moment to inspect him for injuries, and –thankfully- noticed only a growing bruise covering most of his forearm.

One chance, no distractions… it was gone. Carvahall... her brothers, her parents...

It's better this way. Cinder comforted, but it fell on deft ears.

He's going to kill everyone I care about. How is that better than anything?

He said something, but she was not listening anymore because she realized that the words she spoke were not quite true. Not everyone was going to die.

Brom was safe, Eragon was fixable, Cinder could last.

Somehow, that reassured her.

Kagome, turn around.

She cringed.

Her dragon's voice sounded awed, and Brom's eyes were locked on something over her shoulder. His mouth had fallen open slightly.

Kagome took a deep breath, and turned; she wished that she had not.

Blood covered the already stained ground, pooling around not an Urgal, but a man. Ajihad.

And the bag that Galbatorix had entrusted to her lay on the ground beside Ajihad's unmoving arm…

From it, came a dragon.

What the hell?

i luv niki4444

Sommmmeeeettttimmmessss I feeeelllllllll likkkkkeeeeeeee a BIRD.

Yes. Sometimes I feel like a bird. 0_0

xD So here it is! Finally a new chapter 3 Sorry if I'm a little weird here in the author's note. ...I waited to write this part until AFTER I saw an episode of Corpse Party.

Thank you guys so much for reading! I have to start my essay now, but I'll hopefully be able to update again somewhere 2-4 weeks. I actually might just write a chapter for something else right now... take a break from homework haha. xD

Please review telling me what you thought and OH can you guess who the dragon will be matched with? :P

-Niki