Well guys, it's the big 25. I'm kind of hoping that this is only the halfway point. That means that I want my reviews doubled too. You've all been so supportive and you guys have made this story what it is. You guys are the best, thank you so much.

Eragon

Chapter 25:

Casualty of War

"Brisingr!" Eragon cried, transforming yet another foe into ashes. He had yelled that word enough times that the patch of sand that he had been battling on had, in some places, turned to glass. And more than once, his enemy would slip on the freshly made slates, and they would fall, only to be put out of their misery. Even as this happened, there still seemed to be an infinite amount of soldiers, and they poured down upon him in an unstoppable torrent. Eragon had suffered two major wounds: one in his side where a spear had caught him, and one where a pike had cut his boot open, tearing open the skin around his calf. Arya was faring no better. She swung her sword more slowly than when they had started, and she also had obtained a few bloody gashes. She was more often than not having to fend off two opponents at once. She finally got the chance to send him a mental message after a lull in the fighting. Eragon, we need to find a way to eliminate these enemy soldiers. There are too many for the Varden to fight alone.

I know, we need to route them somewhere, or... Arya immediately read his thoughts and pushed them aside, calling them irrational.

Eragon, there is no possible way you could do that. You would both die. I can't let that happen. Eragon sensed something more, but he had to defeat off a soldier before returning to their mental conversation.

Arya, it's for the sake of the Varden. If I don't we could all- He was cut off by a loud roar in the distance, and he glanced over to see if Murtagh was descending to attack him again; however, it was not a red dragon, but a black one, with the Black King riding on it's back.

Shruikan spit black fire onto the ranks of the Varden, incinerating hundreds of men at once. Galbatorix used magic to direct it specifically at his enemies. He skimmed over the surface of the battling armies, once in awhile shooting a man with a bolt of magic. A loud roar exploded from the mouth of not one dragon, but of many thousands of opposing soldiers, and they crashed upon Eragon's ears. He felt as if he was back under the waterfall in Kostha-Merna with water battering his fragile head. He covered his ears, and while doing so, accidentally flung his sword between two men that were charging each other, and it flew straight into the ground fifty feet away.

He looked at his sword, and then his empty hand, gaping in astonishment. Before divulging himself in a series of very heavy swears, he sprinted for his sword, vaulting over two men at once, and landing on the other side. He again began running as fast as he possibly could in the direction of his grounded weapon. Just as he reached out to get it, a gloved hand snatched it from the ground, and as Eragon looked to see who had taken it, he saw Galbatorix brandish his new sword above his head.

Eragon glanced around frantically, and saw Murtagh following up his master's thievery; he was coming in for the kill. He held his sword at his hip, ready to decapitate Eragon. A devilish smile was the most prominent feature on his face. Murtagh raised the sword, preparing for a death blow, but just before it struck Eragon's neck, he ducked, and leaped onto the sword, ripping it from his opponent's hands. Murtagh did the same thing Eragon had done when he had lost his weapon, he looked at his plain hands, surprised that Zar'roc was not in them. Just as Murtagh looked up, he saw Eragon bring the sword down heavily on his head.

Even as blood spurted from his scalp, it had not gotten through to Murtagh's brain for a few special reasons. One, Murtagh had very strong wards around him that had been steadily weakened from a combination of things, including Eragon's the deterioration spell that he had secretly and unknowingly placed upon him. The second reason was that Eragon had quickly blocked the sword with his mind, which even though dangerous, would have taken too long to say aloud. Because of their link, Thorn was also injured, but only through their mental connection. Thorn immediately went out cold, and ran headfirst into the ground, sliding a good twenty feet before coming to a complete halt.

Eragon looked up to see where the King had gone, but saw nothing. This made Eragon afraid for many reasons, not the least of which was that Galbatorix could perform a spell that could make not only himself, but his whole army invisible if he had wanted. Another was that Eragon didn't want himself or his loved ones to be captured, killed, or tortured. He quickly scanned the sky for any signs of him, but was still unsuccessful. Eragon quickly ran to Saphira and Arya, and mentally recounted the events of what had happened in the past minutes. He then gave even more irrefutable evidence of why he should be able to carry out his plans.

Eragon..., Arya begged. But he wouldn't have it. He quickly slayed another man before jumping onto Saphira's back and crying, "Ganga! Ganga!", and without protesting, she took off, impaling three men with her claws who had been boldly trying to sneak up on her blind side. She flapped her wings with the strength of many long flights, and was quickly in the air. He sent a message to Arya telling her to inform Nasuada of the incapacitated Murtagh, and to get some men right on it. She quietly agreed, and Eragon tried to console her, but before he could, He saw the massive form of Shruikan come out of a grove of trees, and fly towards them.

Blast it!, he thought, Saphira, how fast can you go? Saphira rumbled in her chest with mirth.

Do you really want to know, little one? He quickly strapped himself in tightly, and not a second too late, because Saphira rapidly accelerated, blasting wind behind her that not only propelled them forward at a highly increased rate, but it soon created a jet stream that slowed Shruikan down so fast, that in a few minutes they were almost a mile ahead of the pair. Before the day was over, Saphira was so far ahead, their pursuers where barely above the horizon. She knew exactly where they were going, because Eragon had relayed to her where he wanted to go specifically.

How much longer can you put up with this pace, Saphira?, Eragon asked her worriedly.

I will have to stop tomorrow evening. I can go for another day, but I wish I could get some water.

Fly lower then, I can get you some. She quickly dropped in altitude, stopping a good hundred feet above the ground. Eragon pondered his actions, and then saw a large, rolling hill coming closer. He prepared the spell, and before long, water was coming out of the ground sixty feet below them. He held the spell, and directed more then ninety percent of it into Saphira's mouth, leaving a few mouthfuls for him. He cut off the spell, and moved the rest of the water into his waterskin. After that long spell, he was pretty tired, so he bid Saphira good night, and laid his head on his cloak.

The last thing he heard before falling asleep was a roar in the distance, and then Saphira saying, Thank you, little one. Good night. He was too far gone to reply.