Chapter 2

Eragon didn't know that he was capable of screaming that loud. His voice still felt hoarse whenever he tried to make any sound, which was rare. It had been the man in black's idea to have Eragon whipped until there was no skin left on his body. What had been even worse was that the whip was coated in Seithr oil. The sudden pain from the whipping was something Eragon could brave, but the Seithr oil literally made his skin crawl. Then, like every other torture session, Eragon was beaten mercilessly by anyone who wished to hit him. He felt his mind slowly break away, and it would eventually leave him nothing but a empty husk. The pain had caught up to him, and it was even worse than when Durza had opened his back. His back had offered him some time away from the incredible pain, but this, this never ended.

He was slowly putting together a plan of escape. Eragon knew that the very instant he escaped the cell, he would be hard pressed to find a way back to the Varden. Of course, he had to see if he was closer to the approaching Elven army, which would make resting and healing easier.

Long ago he had examined the cuffs around his wrists, and found that they were unlocked by a special key. Another key was needed for the door to his cell, and he figured that it may require numerous others to escape where ever he was. That wasn't counting the wards that were over the cell. He began to eat less and less everyday, and it was tiring his body. If his plan was to work, he needed to be able to cast magic once again, or at least be able to extend his mind to a certain distance. What he had to do sickened Eragon to his stomach, but he knew the cost of remaining here.

There was not that Eragon knew about the man in black, but since the guards feared him, he felt that he should be wary of him during his escape. He couldn't waste what little energy he had left on a fight, especially if he had to run. The echo of footsteps reached Eragon's ears. It only sounded like one person was approaching, which meant that it was a change of guard. Whoever had captured him spared no expense in trying to keep him in.

The approaching guard stopped feet away from his cell door, and he heard the guard speak to the guard next to his door, "Did you hear? Apparently a sentry contacted Hermod about riders approaching. Hermod told most of us to ride to the north to another spot, but I don't know where exactly it is."

"And leave this elf here almost undefended? What his Hermod thinking?" said the other guard. "Who is to leave? Cause Balder promised me.." Eragon ignored the rest of the conversation, and instead thought of this Hermod. Perhaps the man in black? he thought.

Whoever it was, Eragon knew that they had to have good reason for guards to leave him. Eragon knew that he himself was powerful, but did this Hermod think otherwise? Whoever he is, it isn't the smartest thing to ignore a Dragon Rider.

Incoming riders being spotted by a sentry could mean that Nasuada had sent out riders, but for what purpose? Was he close enough to Belatona that the riders could being spotted where a threat? After all, why would Nasuada sent out riders when she had other means of communication?

"We have been spotted."

It was the only thing that came out of Arya's mouth in the past few days. Roran was left to talk to Blödhgarm, who, besides leaving his head spinning in riddles, was pleasant company. Maybe it was because he had gotten used to the way his cousin spoke, or that Blödhgarm himself was actually bored. After all, all they did was run nearly most of the day. The only other thing that was left was to look for food. Roran tried to collect as things as he could that someone could eat besides meat, but the Spine was scarce in food.

The upcoming winter left chills in the night, and Roran stayed as close as he could to the raging fire. Blödhgarm was sitting next to Roran, with Arya directly opposite. Roran saw that Arya once again had Brisingr in her hands, and was staring at the fire. He watched as she slowly drew the sword out of its sheath, and placed it near the fire. Eragon had once said that the sword was made of brightsteel, making it flexible, yet unbreakable. He briefly remembered Eragon explaining the history of the riders swords, and only remembered that the colors corresponded with their dragons.

Turning towards Blödhgarm, Roran whispered, "I thought that Eragon had a red sword. I remember briefly seeing it at The Burning Plains, but when I asked him he never said anything about it, merely saying that he got a new one."

Blödhgarm's demeanor darkened, and Roran believed that he had offended the elf. As soon as Blödhgarm opened his mouth to respond, Arya had cut him off. "Murtagh had taken it. From what Eragon has told me, Brom gave it to him when they fled Carvahall, and Eragon used it to slay a shade. It was originally Morzan's, and named Zar'roc, meaning misery."

They way she spoke was distant, and cold. Despite being close to the raging fire, Roran felt a chill set over him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Blodhgarm shiver as well. Arya had fallen silent, and instead took to poking the fire with Brisingr. Watching the way the fire seemed to come alive around the blade, Roran couldn't help but let out a involuntary sigh. All he wished for was for everything to be back to the way it was, before Eragon had found Saphira's egg.

Everything was simpler then, and had made sense. Now, in a world filled with magicians, dragons, elves, and dwarves, Roran felt uncomfortable. He missed Katrina, but he desperately wanted his cousin back. Lying down on his side, Roran fell asleep, dreaming about Katrina and his unborn child.

Feeling a nudge on his shoulder, Roran snapped open his eyes and reached for his hammer. He saw that it was almost day light, and that the fire had died down. Arya was standing over him, and for a second he saw a slight twitch at the corner of her mouth. Not entirely devoid of emotion, are you elf? he thought.

Getting up off the ground, Roran walked over to Snowfire's saddle, and took out a piece of bread. Quickly shoving down the meal, Roran readied Snowfire, and jumped onto his back. Nodding at the two elves, he followed them as they set off into the night. He was used to riding, and found that the trip was enjoyable. He could sprint Snowfire as fast as he wanted, and didn't have to worry about our distancing anyone. The two elves were easily able to keep pace with his horse.

They rode through the dense forest for hours, weaving through the trees at breakneck speed. Snowfire was easily up for the task, having gotten back into shape from Roran's constant use. Arya led them into a valley, and what Roran saw amazed him. There, in the middle of the forest, was a structure Roran had never seen. It was tall, but seemed to be in ruins.

"What is it?" Roran asked. He didn't know who to ask, so directed the question at both elves.

Blödhgarm responded in a whisper, as they silently approached the structure. "It is a old elven outpost. There are many of these around Alagaësia, but most of them are inhabitable. However, this one it seems, has seen Empire soldiers." Blödhgarm pointed to the top most section of the outpost. The top of the outpost was completely gone, and from Roran could see, most of the stones that used to be there were on the ground surrounding the outpost. Squinting at the distance, Roran saw that a Empire flag was flying high over the structure.

Blödhgarm said something in his language to Arya, to which she responded with a nod. Roran merely raised a eyebrow towards Blödhgarm, hoping that he would explain. "This is one of the locations that Queen Islanzadí has told us about."

Roran's heart began to pump harder, and he was about to charge Snowfire forward when Arya grasped the reins from his hands. "We continue on foot."

Nodding, Roran jumped off Snowfire, and let him graze around. Taking his hammer in hand, Roran followed the two elves. Gazing at the outpost, Roran saw that they were approaching from the left side. It was early in the morning by now, with the sun peaking over the nearby mountains. Being so early, the patrol that was heading there way was easy to handle. Arya had surprisingly decided to use Brisingr, and Roran watched in fascination as she killed a guard with ease.

Looking away from her, Roran and Blödhgarm took out the remaining two guards, insuring that they didn't let out any warning. Following the elves, he barely heard them stepping on the ground. Trying to mimic they way they walked, the three of them approached the entrance to the outpost. They halted behind a large tree next to the outpost, being able to see the entrance. Four guards were stationed there, and Roran assumed the rest were inside. Turning towards Blödhgarm, Roran asked, "How do we know if Eragon is truly here? It seems odd to have him so far away from Galbatorix."

Blödhgarm merely shrugged, and replied, "We don't."

Roran sighed, and muttered, "That's reassuring."

Arya shushed him, and gestured towards the guards. "We have to go in quickly, before they can raise any alarm. Blödhgarm, venture to the top of the tower and kill any there who may signal for help. Stronghammer, come with me."

Blödhgarm nodded, and the three charged at the unsuspecting guards. Roran, instead of letting out a large battle cry, instead brought down his hammer onto one of the guards. The guards were simple soldiers, like the ones Roran had fought against at both Belatona and Feinster. His hammer quickly killed the guard, and Roran glanced at the two elves.

Blödhgarm had taken out small daggers, and had killed two of the guards in one swing. Arya had mercilessly decapitated the guard with Brisingr, and Roran quickly looked away. Entering the massive outpost, more guards charged at them. They quickly disposed of them, and Roran looked around. Inside the outpost entrance was a massive room, with a two staircases, one going up and the other going down below. Beside the staircases was a enormous pile of rubble, and Roran assumed that the structure had collapsed at one point.

Blödhgarm took off towards the staircase leading up, killing several guards on his way. Roran followed Arya down below, were there was minimal light. Arya had said a word in the ancient language, and a small light appeared hovering over Roran's shoulder. The light illuminated the dark hallway, and Roran heard a moan coming a few ways down.

Arya sprinted as soon as the voice let out the moan, and Roran had trouble keeping up with her. They came upon a dead end, with three doors left in the hallway. Each door was made of solid metal, and was locked by a key. Roran approached the one on the right, slamming his hammer at the lock. The lock didn't budge. He heard Arya whisper something at one of the other doors, then let out a curse.

Looking at the side of the door, Roran saw two massive hinges. Taking his hammer, Roran pounded the hinge, and heard a satisfying snap as the metal broke. He quickly destroyed the other hinge, and then swung his hammer in a wide ark at the door. The door creaked under the massive blow, and Roran rained four more at the door. The lock snapped under the strain, and he knocked over the steel door. The light followed Roran as he entered the room, and he saw that a man was tied up at the far end of the cell.

Rushing over to the man, Roran heard no noise coming from him. Not knowing who it was, Roran tilted the face so he could see it. Who ever the man was, he was old. Seeing that the man was dead, Roran quickly exited the room. Damn, he thought.

By that time, Blödhgarm had rejoined them, and was quickly making work of the middle door. Arya, who was whispering things in the ancient language, let out a angry sigh, and unsheathed Brisingr. She screamed its name, and Roran was surprised when it set ablaze. I thought Eragon said he was the only one who could make it do that, Roran thought.

Arya seemed surprised as well that it had worked, and she cut the door in half. Extinguishing the sword, he watched as Arya entered the cell. She quickly exited, shaking her head. Blödhgarm exited the middle room, and Roran saw that he was holding something. Blödhgarm held up the piece of leather he was holding, and Roran saw that it was Eragon's belt. "Beloth the Wise," he heard Arya whisper. She took the belt, and peeled back a strip of leather revealing twelve jewels.

"There's still some energy left in them." Blödhgarm said, "Come we must get out of here before anymore show up."

Arya nodded, and Roran followed the two elves as the exited the dungeon. Several more guards were waiting for them, and the three quickly made work of them. It still amazed Roran as to how fast they could move, and he was glad that they opposed Galbatorix as well. Sprinting as fast as he could back into the forest after the elves, Roran looked around for Snowfire.

As he expected, Snowfire still grazing around the forest, and when he approached Snowfire bolted straight towards him. Quickly jumping on the horses back, Roran followed the elves as the ventured deeper into the forest. After a few hours journey, they stopped in a clearing that held a brook. Dismounting Snowfire, Roran approached the brook and drank from it. The water helped calm him down, and he saw that the two elves were also drinking from the brook.

Watching Arya, he saw as she stopped and took out Beloth the Wise. She cleaned the leather off, and placed it in a pack on Snowfire's saddle. Snowfire held three packs, each for one of the three. Roran never dared to open either elves pack, and suspected that might be unable to. Walking towards Arya, he asked, 'Where to next?"

Arya turned away from him, and pointed in what he assumed to be north-west. He was disappointed that he hadn't found Eragon, and his worry for his cousin increased. He knew his cousin was capable of handling himself, but he knew that he would be killed if he was brought to Galbatorix. Worse, he knew if Eragon was forced to obey Galbatorix due to his true name, he didn't know if he would be able to fight him.

This is what he must have felt towards Murtagh. To fight your own blood.. the thought made Roran shiver.

Eragon heard angry yelling, and assumed that it must have been Hermod. A few days ago, Eragon had learned that it was indeed the man in blacks name. His back still ached, and the smell of his own rotting flesh nearly made him puke. Hermod had stopped the Seithr oil, as a healer said his body couldn't handle another session.

I have already handled at least six "sessions," Eragon thought. He was glad though. He didn't know if his body was able to handle another. The plan that he had thought up days ago was slipping from his mind, and every time he was faced with more pain, it slipped further. When he tried to reach out towards the memory, he instead found something entirely different.

It was something buried, and every time he was struck, it only came out further. Eragon had no idea what it was, but only that it was slowly consuming him. He knew that he had to fight whatever it was, but the more it gained over him, the less he felt of the pain. He felt himself give to it, and after a while, it was hard to attempt a coherent thought when it arose. Every time Hermod approached him, the feeling intensified. Eragon did not know how much more he was able to handle.

The door to the cell swung open, and Hermod entered. Eragon felt the intensity increase, and he was barely able to make out what the man said. "It seems that somebody has raided a outpost not to far from here. It is no matter, though. Who ever it is, they won't be able to enter this place."

Eragon barely felt the guards unclasp his wrists, and the next the he knew, he was being dragged down the hallway. The feeling was gaining on him now, and he began to understand what it was. It was a feeling Saphira sometimes felt. The feeling grew, and it took over his mind. The only thing Eragon was able to register was that it was feral.

He never experienced it himself, but it was as if a intense wave of rage had hit him. With the little ground he still held over his own mind, he tried to direct it. Instead, the rage exploded, and with it came as something Eragon would later describe as a magic backlash. His blood felt as if it was burning, and he began to see red. His vision narrowed, and his limbs began to shake. Energy flowed through his veins, and he felt it explode out of him. The guards were thrown away from him, slamming into the walls. He smelt blood, and it only increased the rage.

Hermod was ahead of him, and he only felt the desire to kill. It flowed freely through his body now, and he lost himself in it. His body charged at Hermod, who had drawn a broadsword. Hermod screamed something unintelligible, and Eragon felt a snarl escape his lips. Every muscle in his body felt renewed with energy, and he slammed a fist into Hermod's chest. Hermod fell a few steps back, his dark chest plate dented from the impact.

A guard rushed at Eragon, and he slammed his fist through his skull. Ignoring the blood and brains dripping down his hand, Eragon killed the other guards who charged him. He didn't know how many guards rushed at him, only that every time he killed one, the feeling grew. Hermod had ran up a flight of stairs, and Eragon rushed after him. Up the stairs was another massive steel door, and Hermod had screamed something at it. The door opened, and Hermod entered, closing behind him.

Eragon approached the door, and let out another sound that sounded like a snarl. He slammed his fists into the steel door, denting it with each blow. He only struck it three times when it gave, and Eragon quickly pushed it aside. Guards rushed at him, and he felt the feral rage unleash itself upon them. Guards poured into the doorway, each one dying by Eragon's bare hands. In his rage, Eragon hadn't even bothered to pick up a sword or shield, merely continued to kill the guards despite the wounds he was taking.

Of course, the rage that was flowing through him blocked out all pain. Eventually, the guards realized that they couldn't kill him, and ran. Frustrated that they were running, Eragon charged after them. He followed them around a corner, and saw a bright light at the far end of the hallway. Even with his vision red, he was stunned by the light for a second.

Hermod had rushed through the light, and slammed him into a wall. Snarling, Eragon felt the rage mount higher than before. His mind couldn't process what was happening, and it passed in a blur. He saw himself push off the wall, then saw himself on top of Hermod, pounding away into the mans chest.

Each punch made a satisfying crunching sound, and Eragon continued his assault. His mind didn't process someone approaching, but he felt it when the person grabbed his wrist, stopping the next punch. He unleashed another punch at the person's chest, and felt something snap. Pushing the person onto there back, he jumped on top of them and raised his fist. He hesitated, however, when he heard the person say in a musical voice, "Eragon?"

A/N: Sorry about the update delay, but it kinda gets hard to write when I'm so busy. Hope you guys enjoy! Oh, and it anyone is interested in being a Beta Reader for this story, send me a PM! Could definitely use one!