Marching

Nasuada tapped her shoulder impatiently as she watched the hundreds of thousands of men move past her. She was more agitated then she

could ever remember being. Sadness gripped her heart, but at the same time new found determination. The previous night Blodhgarm and

Nasuada had decided that they were not suited for each other, and as a result she was now once again single. She had not realized what a

massive hole was left in her life that not having someone to love had had made. Only recently had that hole been filled. Now it was a hole again,

and Nasuada had a confused mixture of emotions. On the hand, she liked the idea of having her freedom back but on the other hand she still

wanted someone to love, and someone to love her. So as a result she welcomed the forward marching that the Varden were undergoing, for it

allowed her to forget her loss. She stumbled back as one of the werecat's that Eragon had recruited, a nearly brown one, pounced on a mouse

that was nibbling a on a seed behind the barrel she was standing. She remembered his name was Olam the Wise. The cat looked up at her as

he eat the rodent. When it was done it licked a paw and started to clean the blood from his face. Then he wavered and morphed into the form of

an old man, somewhere in his late fifties. "Nasuada, what troubles you?" She looked back at the men who were making a large amount of noise

while marching. "I am fine. What makes you think that I'm upset?" Olam raised out a hand and laid on her shoulder, surprising her as she had

her attention on the men. "A great poet once wrote a wise saying, which I have memorized.'Charity is not meat given to a hungry dog, but meat

given to a hungry dog when you are just as hungry as that dog.' I say this as a form of encouragement. You have sacrificed your whole life in

dedication to the Varden, and even now you continue to give of yourself. I am older then can be fathomed, and I have met but a handful of

people that would sacrifice themselves as you do." He turned to leave but Nasuada reached out and gripped his shoulder. He turned and cast a

single silver eye at her. "Wait. Wh-What can you tell me about Eragon? Do you know something about him that might help us?" Olam gently took

her hand in his and looked into her eyes. "In his heart there is a battle taking place. One side wants to fight The Bane of the Riders, while the

other is his darker personality. That side wants to do only what is best for it. That battle is being fought in every mind of every Human, Dwarf,

Urgal, Elf, and Dragon that fights Gailbatorix." Nasuada shook her head. "That doesn't answer. What I want to know is do you know something

that will help us?" Olam sighed. He looked into the sky, counting something. "If that doesn't answer your question, I'm sorry. It isn't a habit of

mine to give forthright answers. If that doesn't answer, perhaps this will. 'There are two wolves fighting inside Eragon. One is the one he loves.

It is kindness, love, a want to fight Gailbatorix. The other is the one he hates. It is greed, and envy, and hatred and a want to only see to his

desires. The two fight day and night to control him.'" Nasuada looked into his silver eyes. "Which one wins?" A twinkle sparked in his eyes, a

sudden burst of silver that transfused his pupil for a moment, and his voice deepened. He leaned forward and whispered, "The one that he gives

food to."

Eragon climbed onto Thorn, calling for Arya. Brom walked over to him and said, "How in the world am I going to get back?" Eragon smiled and

pointed at Gridor. "You'll ride on him, Father." Brom looked at the Mecch, who by all rights could pass as a human. "How am I going to do that?"

Eragon looked at Gridor expectantly. Clenching his fists, a steam started to roll off of Gridor. Like a mummy ripping out of the cloth that incased it

Gridor ripped off his cloths as he began to grow. He grew and grew until finally he was the same size as Thorn. "He has the ability to transform

into a natural Dragon, but he rarely if ever does." Brom grunted and jumped onto his back. Even as a full ordinary dragon, Gridor retuned his

ability to talk in the human tongue. "Be careful. Sorry I didn't think to bring a saddle with me." Eragon clapped his hands and leather from

Thorn's saddle duplicated until there was one of equal size and value. It floated to Gridor and strapped itself to him. "We need to get back to the

Varden quickly, so I'm going to cut the air in front of us, and summon a tail wind." Brom shook his head in disbelief. "You can-" He was cut off as

a wild yell cut out from the trees to their left. A dark form jumped off a low hill and rammed into Eragon. Eragon tried to reach for Brisingr to

defend himself, but could not extended his arm far enough. Eragon heard swords being drawn, as well as a profoundly loud scream. Through the

air, a single word barked. "Arvindr." Eragon forced his eyes open, just in time to see Kroger step over Brom's bleeding body. One of the old

man's arms lay a few feet away. Kroger held Arvindr, which was covered in the Ice of Fury, and looked around their camp, searching for

something. His eyes lit up and he walked forward saying, "There you are." He jumped over Thorn's tail, Thorn being unconscious, and headed

towards Eragon. He reached down and took Brisingr from where it lay beside him. He looked down at Eragon then tilted the sword upward and

slammed it down on his head. Eragon blacked out. Before he did however, he said a single word that stopped Brom's bleeding. The last thing he

heard was Kroger laughing. When he awoke he sat up and looked around. Nothing but Brom. The old man was hobbling towards him, holding

his right arm in his left, literally. His right arm was no longer attached to his body. (Some of you may of already guessed that from what I said

before, but I thought I would make it clear.) "Can you do something about this?" Eragon muttered a word and Brom's arm snapped back into

place. "Where's Arya?" Brom looked up at him and said, "He took Arya."

Nasuada looked down at the old werecat. "What do you mean, each every one he gives food to?" Olam jumped onto the barrel and stared at

her. "I mean exactly what I say." He straightened and said, "There are things that you are unaware of about Eragon, but not what I would say

are 'helpful' pieces of information." Nasuada looked down at the cat and said, "Like what?" The cat looked back up at her from his feet and said,

"For instance he is the nephew of Gailbatorix." Nasuada fell back in astonishment. "That can't be!" The old man continued talking, despite her

interruption. "He has a younger sister, an older brother, and a home in Uru'bean where his family lives. His mother, his sister, and his brother,

but not his father." He jumped up so that he was using her shoulder for support for his old bones. "That's right his mother is alive. Brom and her

had more children then Eragon is aware. Anyways, anything else you want to know?" Nasuada looked at her hands, then back at the werecat.

"What is his destiny?" The man wavered and went into his cat form. He jumped off of her shoulder and onto the ground below. He walked off

then looked back over his shoulder. "Sorry, can't tell you that." She sighed in disappointment then looked up as the cat stopped, sighed and

turned around. "This part of our conversation never occured. Time will tell his future and destiny, but his fate, which can not be changed, is to

over-throw Gailbatorix and through an awful event, take the crown and resurrect the Riders from the shambles of the elves mistake. He will be

wise and powerful until, one day, his wife will take him, 'To the Land of Shadows to kill the foe.'" With that he turned and started to walk off.

Nasuada did not understand. The land of shadows? The foe? Who was the foe and why did Eragon have to go to this land to kill him? "Wait.

Who is this foe?" The old cat took a deep sigh. "The foe. The foe in Durza. The foe that was in Durza until Eragon killed him, and then that foe

escaped. He needs to go and kill that foe, or else he will get to the Land of Shadows. Do you understand? The foe that now torments him is and

was in Durza, and he needs to kill him. If he doesn't, ten years he will have to wait."