CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: You Must Realise, You Are Doomed

A/N: We're getting very close to the end, guys! Some revelations in this one. I also wanted to say a huge thanks to EVERYONE who has reviewed, but especially to Earth Kid Tree Hugger, my amazing beta who has edited a lot of this and constantly reminds me what I've forgotten to check, and Rogue Elf Princess and AnnabethAndPercyAre4Ever, who made it their mission to review every chapter of this story. Well done, guys!

"Sanctus Espiritus, redeem us from our solemn hour

Sanctus Espiritus, insanity is all around us

Sanctus Espiritus, is this what we deserve

Can we break free from chains of never-ending agony?"

- Our Solemn Hour, Within Temptation

Ashen was stuck here again in the dungeons, and she was helpless. She felt disgusted at herself, at Zander, at everyone except Murtagh – who she pitied so much, so much that she might cry. Her wrists were suspended above her head in chains again. How she was tired of being a pawn in Galbatorix's game, a hostage to earn Murtagh and possibly Tristan's allegiance.

Zander watched her with those cold, cruel eyes of his as he leaned against the wall with his arms folded. She knew that he was bored and frustrated about not being able to go into battle…yet he had made no attempt to defy Galbatorix and try anyway. There was something about him, something that Ashen couldn't quite place…

"Are you afraid, little girl?"

Ashen seethed with rage at being referred to as a little girl. She was nearly seventeen. She was a woman now, not a child to be patronized. She gritted her teeth and shook her head fervently, glaring at Zander.

"Not of you," she spat at him.

Zander unfolded his arms and started to advance on Ashen. He raised his eyebrows and observed her with a mocking smile about his lips.

"Really? Because you should be. You don't know what I can do. You don't know who I am."

Ashen laughed mirthlessly, laughed right in his face despite the terror that surged through her veins. Her sensible side was screaming at her not to defy Zander, to just keep her mouth shut…but for some reason, she just couldn't do that.

"You're Galbatorix's pet magician." She leaned forward and spat at his feet. "That's all you'll ever be."

Zander laughed and smacked her across the face. Her cheek stung and her head spun from the blow, but she didn't make a sound.

"You stupid, stupid girl." He sneered at her. "Did you really think a mere magician could be so important? I'm not Galbatorix's pet magician. I'm his son."

Ashen felt as though someone had thrown her from the battlements. She could see how that was true – the cruelty that Zander shared with Galbatorix – yet how could it possibly be real? Zander smiled at the apprehension in her eyes.

"Good. Now you're afraid. You should be." He paced towards her. "Now you know how I found you. How I knew where your little Varden camp was. Galbatorix might have power because he is a Rider…but I don't need a dragon to make me powerful."

Ashen just shook her head slowly, pressing her back against the wall and wishing it would just swallow her whole so she could escape this man. "You're mad."

Zander just smirked as he moved closer to Ashen – too close for comfort. His breath was hot on her neck as she turned to face. He laughed and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. She expected to see insanity in his green eyes…but it was the nothingness there that terrified her.

"I hate Murtagh." He hissed. "He doesn't even deserve Galbatorix's time of day. Yet that Rider is the one who gets to do everything, while I have to sit and wait for my chance…"

Ashen struggled, her chains clinking, as Zander shifted his grip to her throat, his hand tightening so that she found it hard to breathe.

"Do you know how long I've waited for the chance to hurt Murtagh?" Zander half-laughed, although there was no mirth in his voice. "Oh, I've hurt him physically…but that's not the sort of pain that fazes him. It's the psychological pain that really gets to him. Now I have the one thing I can use to break him…you."

Zander gripped Ashen's hair and pulled her head back, pressing a knife to her exposed throat. Ashen winced as the cold steel kissed her bare skin and she just wanted to fight, to scream, but she couldn't.

"Let's see how angry we can make your precious Rider." His voice was dangerously quiet and the moment he removed the knife, just for the briefest second, Ashen threw her head forward and head-butted him in the face. Zander staggered backwards, stunned, and Ashen desperately struggled to free her hands from the chains that bound her.

"You little bitch," Zander spat, his eyes flashing. "I'm going to enjoy making you scream – and not just because of Murtagh's reaction…"

He charged at her, but Ashen drew up her legs and kicked him in the stomach. He slammed so hard into the opposite wall that his head cracked against the stone and he slumped to the ground.

Ashen made a split-second decision about what she needed to do. It would hurt like hell, but she had to if she wanted to escape. Closing her eyes and gritting her teeth, she twisted her wrist around. There was a SNAP like a stick cracking as it broke and she cried out in pain, waiting a few moments before she could bear to do the same to the other wrist. She managed to pull her broken wrists free of the chains and looked down at Zander, who was still unconscious.

"Waise heill," she whispered, her head spinning with the effort it took to heal both wrists. She staggered across and yanked the key from Zander's belt and wondered how she was going to get out of Uru'baen alive.

The huge black dragon that flew out from Uru'baen brought terror and dread to the hearts of the Varden. Murtagh was one thing – but Galbatorix was another entirely. For just a moment, everything froze and the Varden knew that their doom may be upon them. Once they saw Galbatorix and Shruikan, the three Riders of the Varden split up.

Aziza roared her challenge and Delia tilted her head to the side with a grim smile, her violet eyes horribly empty as she drew Evarinya from its sheath and raising the sword above her head, screaming a battle cry. Aziza launched herself towards Shruikan with a low growl.

Eragon and Saphira did not move. Their attention was focused solely on Murtagh and Thorn, who remained motionless and just watched them.

We have to kill him, Eragon told Saphira, although he felt he was only trying to convince himself, We must.

Tristan and Fafnir wheeled around and retreated back towards where the Varden had clashed with the Imperial soldiers. Fafnir bellowed and Arya looked up with wonder from where she was fighting as green flames emitted from his mouth, lighting up the sky in their emerald brilliance.

"Eragon." Murtagh's voice was hoarse. "I have to kill you. It's the only way to set her free."

They both knew who Murtagh was talking about, but Eragon shook his head fervently. He loved Ashen like a sister – but there just had to be another way, without anyone having to give up their lives.

"If you want me, Murtagh," his voice was oddly hollow and it didn't sound like his own. "Come and get me."

Saphira whipped around and rocketed downwards, Thorn pulling into close pursuit. Saphira only narrowly managed to dodge as scarlet flames streaked across the sky towards her, and Eragon jolted forward in his saddle.

They're too powerful, Eragon! We can't keep this up.

I know. Set me down on the ground; perhaps I'll stand more of a chance then. Eragon suggested grimly.

Saphira baulked It will be your undoing. No, Eragon, I won't!

You have to!

Growling her displeasure, Saphira landed heavily. She had purposely veered away from the main battle so that Eragon could confront Murtagh alone. Thorn arrived and Murtagh leapt from his back, gripping Zar'roc tight as he crossed towards where Eragon stood waiting.

"What do you think you're going to achieve?" Murtagh demanded. "I'll kill you as surely on the ground as I would in the air."

Both of them had been boosted by the strength of the Eldunari, as had Delia and Tristan. It might be enough to defeat Galbatorix…but it could also lead to one of them killing the other. Eragon held up Brisingr, letting the blue blade burn with flames.

"You can try."

Zar'roc and Brisingr clashed with deadly force and Eragon was forced to acknowledge with chagrin that Murtagh was still much stronger than he was. It took every fibre of his being to keep Brisingr in his hands and defend himself. Blow after blow, Murtagh kept battering him down, despite the defenses he'd put on himself prior to the battle.

Eragon, watch out!

Eragon didn't need Saphira's warning to know that he was out-classed. He would have had as much chance against the Shade Mordecai as he did with Murtagh. Eragon lost track of the blows they struck, but it ended with Murtagh sweeping his foot in an arc and knocking Eragon's feet out from underneath him.

Murtagh pressed the tip of Zar'roc to Eragon's collarbone – but there was no triumph in his eyes. Instead, his eyes were haunted and scared. Eragon could tell in that moment that Murtagh really didn't want to do this, could tell that he had no choice. He wet his lips and attempted to persuade his older half-brother.

"Murtagh…"

"Please don't say anything." Murtagh's voice was hoarse. "Don't make this any harder than it already is, Eragon."

There was murder in Delia's heart as she and Aziza streaked towards Galbatorix and Shruikan. This was the man who had left her the last elf, the last female Rider. He had killed all of the others and for this, she despised him. She would kill him even if it meant sacrificing herself…but what about Aziza?

Are you ready for this, Aziza?

Oh, I have always been ready.

Galbatorix laughed maniacally as Aziza and Delia confronted him. To Delia, this just confirmed how much of a madman he really was. He stared at her with contempt in those eyes as black and lifeless as coal.

"So you have been hiding from me all these years, Rider."

Delia knew as she only looked around sixteen in human years, he would know that she couldn't have been there at the Fall. She must have come afterwards, but she had been living in hiding…he must know that Oromis had trained her, because who else could have?

"Do you pride yourself on being a coward?" he asked of her, as Delia bared her teeth in fury. "Are you pleased that you allowed your mentor to die for you instead of revealing your identity? Oh, how the Rider dynasty has fallen. Three teenage boys and a half-wild elf girl."

He laughed again as Delia observed him with hate-filled violet eyes and her teeth bared in a savage snarl.

"Say that again once I have torn out your heart, tyrant," she sneered at him.

Evarinya screamed down towards Galbatorix and he raised his own black blade to block the blow. The force of it jarred Delia's arms and she was shocked. As an elf, she should be strong…stronger than this. Galbatorix seemed to sense her shock, because he smiled coldly.

"More powerful than you thought, aren't I, elf?"

"I will kill you yet." She hissed as she struck again, reaching over Aziza's side to almost casually swipe a long cut down Shruikan's side. The black dragon screamed in pain and Galbatorix's eyes widened with shock as Delia's lips curved into a ruthless smile. Galbatorix cursed under his breath.

"You should heal your dragon, Galbatorix," she whispered.

Galbatorix laughed mirthlessly and instead lunged at Delia. Aziza didn't manage to pull back in time and Delia gasped in pain as a line of blood started to well on her arm. She glared at Galbatorix and then stared down at Shruikan's side. He was already healed. A shiver ran down her spine. He hadn't been cursing at all…he'd healed Shruikan.

Roran watched with narrowed eyes as the Shade Mordecai hacked through the Varden troops with a sword in each hand. The Shade was laying devastation to their ranks and Roran knew he had to do something about it. He'd fought the Ra'zac. He was strong and if Eragon had killed two Shades, surely he could kill one. The thought of fighting Mordecai filled him with dread, but someone had to confront the Shade.

Roran made his decision in a split second, jumping in front of the Shade and raising his hammer. Mordecai's lips curved into a vicious smile. Something smacked into Roran's chest and the hammer dropped from his hands as he rolled backwards, over and over again, stunned.

"Don't interfere, boy," jeered Mordecai, advancing on Roran. Both swords were shining menacingly and Roran gulped and pushed himself backwards, away from the Shade. What had he been thinking? He'd been tossed aside as easily as a ragdoll! How could he have even considered fighting a Shade?

Mordecai raised one of his sword, preparing to chop down and end Roran's life – except then he lowered his arm with an angry hiss. An arrow protruded from his arm and he snapped it off, glaring upwards.

Roran looked overhead to see the mighty green dragon Fafnir. On his back, Tristan was lowering his bow. Clearly, he had been the one to shoot Mordecai. Roran didn't think he'd ever seen an archer Rider.

"I wouldn't advise trying that again." Tristan said, suddenly sounding much older than his eighteen years. He reached back for another arrow, as Mordecai carelessly tossed aside one of his swords and reached upwards. A streak of light flashed towards Tristan and his eyes widened – but then he muttered something and the light passed harmlessly through him. Roran frowned, because between he and his hammer was the Shade.

"Don't test me, little Rider," spat Mordecai, but Tristan only responded by firing another arrow. This one hit Mordecai in the collarbone and he staggered backwards a few steps. Roran took his chance and lunged past for his hammer. Tristan was more than capable of dealing with the Shade. Roran would be better off helping the other Varden soldiers.

Black light slammed into Fafnir's side and he roared in fury – but it wasn't Mordecai who had caused it. The Shade whirled around to see Zander. The blond magician's eyes were gleaming with insanity and his teeth were bared in savage triumph as Tristan keeled over the side of his saddle and plummeted from Fafnir's back.