Owltalon: :) I'm glad someone likes those.
Valkyrie-chick: :) Fear not, they will be incalculably useful and they will do so happily together.
Teagys Carbon: Which part still stands? And by the way, forgot about this in my last response to you, but no, Saphira is not even remotely the one who betrays Eragon. Where did you even get that assumption?
Antclift: :) I don't know. Ask her. She's based off of my sister-in-law Amanda, so you can talk to her about it if you want more clarification. Of course, she doesn't have a tail. :) Well I had to even out Zodion somehow; otherwise his primary purpose in the following stories would be completely unfounded.
WARNING: THE FOLLOWING CHAPTER CONTAINS AN EXTREMELY UNNATURAL LACK OF LENGTH. PEOPLE WHO SUFFER FROM CLIFFHANGER SYNDROME ARE ADVISED TO WAIT UNTIL THE NEXT CHAPTER AND GUESS WHAT HAPPENS. TESST, me, WILL NOT BE AT FAULT IF YOUR HEAD EXPLODES FROM THE FOLLOWING CLIFFHANGER. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. :)
Eragon stopped in center of Galbatorix's magnificent throne room. The room was circular, with deep black marble walls. Pillars the size of two men lined the walls. In the center of the room was a diagram of a star with each of the star's tips touching a pillar. There was a single window behind the throne, illuminating the room with the faint light of the clouded sun. The throne was nearly twenty feet tall but not four feet across. Symbols lined the throne from base to tip.
Eragon turned to the stairwell and drew Brisingr. Aesire straightened and drew his own sword. A fierce blaze adorned his eyes as he activated his Lunarmist.
"Are you ready?" Eragon asked him.
Aesire chuckled. "I've been waiting for this moment for many, many years. Today, I will bring that all to fruition.
"Why did you pick his throne room to fight him?"
"It's more appropriate," Aesire said, sighting down each of his sword's various attack advantages. "Galbatorix has sat on the blood of thousands in this room. How fitting it will be to stand on his blood to avenge those dead."
"A fanciful prediction," came the eerie voice. "Such delusions can only come from one drunk on his own self love and yet professes to be logical."
"Only when compared to minds like your own," Aesire said as Galbatorix stepped into view from the stairwell. Galbatorix held his one handed black sword in his right hand and with his left, he gestured throughout the room. "Look around you, Aesire. You have come to my throne room, the place of my strongest power, seeking to do that which is not possible- to kill me."
Aesire scoffed. "And you think that a task unachievable?"
"I am a God," Galbatorix said snidely. "I cannot be defeated by a weakling like you."
"Your ignorance betrays you. You lack even the intelligence to see that which sits in front of you."
Galbatorix laughed, a harsh sound that grated against Eragon's ear. It was the laugh of a man who was insane and who knew that fact, but relished in it. "What stands before me other than a broken lord of a broken house and a farm boy trying to fill a King's shoes?"
"You are outnumbered," Eragon said. "You cannot defeat both Aesire and me. Surrender."
Galbatorix uttered another laugh. "I'll risk it." And with that, he lunged at Eragon with supernatural speed that surpassed even Arya. If Eragon had not been expecting an attack, he would have been helpless before the dark tyrant. Blue and black blades crossed with a flurry of sparks.
Aesire raised his own gold sword over his head and hacked at Galbatorix. Galbatorix nimbly stepped back to dodge the attack, giving Eragon a chance to stab at him. Galbatorix twisted his arm so the tip of his sword pointed to the ground, deflecting Eragon's blow to the side while simultaneously blocking Aesire's sideward slash. Despite Galbatorix's speed and grace, Eragon noticed that he held little more strength than Murtagh or Brom had when he had trained with them.
Emboldened by that observation, Eragon swung Brisingr at Galbatorix with all his might. The blades of Brightsteel collided together with enough force to cause wind to blast outward. The power behind Galbatorix's arm was equal, but not greater than his own. A line of sweet ran down Galbatorix's face and his breathing quickened.
Eragon, Aesire said through the mind touch. Why is he more exerted than you?
Because he is still human. The Dragons transformed me into almost completely an elf, but that never happened to Galbatorix. He's body can't hold up the grace and flexibility he's been accustomed to.
"True, my body may not be used to this excreting amount of fatigue. But I have just enough power left coming from my slaves to do this." He raised his arm to Aesire, his hand a bent claw. "Jierda du dauthleikr."
Eragon felt a surge of magic and he opened his mouth to warn Aesire, but he was too late. Aesire uttered a pained shout and crumpled to the ground. Eragon looked from him to Galbatorix as the King moved his arm to level Eragon.
"It's a pity, really," he said. "I had such plans to use you, but everything I absolutely have to have from you, I have already gained." He opened his mouth to utter his spell. Eragon had no time to react. He sharpened his thoughts into a hard spear. Magic would not work here, not with Galbatorix still having the ability to kill him. All he had to do was distract him long enough to revive Aesire. He sent his spear of a mind at Galbatorix's thoughts. What he saw would scare him for the rest of his life.
When he delved into Galbatorix's mind, seeking to distract him, what he found was not a mind. Something black and evil dwelled within the king, a twisting mass of convoluted evil so raw it made Eragon scream inside. In a brief instant, he was in contact with the thing that inhabited Galbatorix- a thousand images flashed through his mind, each of them of the slaughter and torture of thousands of people, from the oldest man to the youngest baby. Moments before Eragon withdrew, he was transported to an ocean of black so complete he could not even see his body. He looked out into the darkness, but there was nothing. Then a red eye opened somewhere in the darkness, followed by another. When they looked at him he felt a malevolent force dispel every iota of joy or happiness that had ever existed inside Eragon. Whatever the thing was, it was composed of raw evil. As Eragon frantically pulled away from the creature it spoke words that rang in Eragon's mind forever more.
From the darkness shall come light. From the blood shall come fire. From the moon shall come mist. Beware the wolf in the cloud. For one day I shall send your own creation out to destroy you.
Eragon ripped out of the creature's grip and fell to the floor, writhing. Galbatorix, who had also fallen, staggered up with a dark glare directed at Eragon. He took a step forward. "You see too much, Rider," he said with coldly. He took another step forward. "You know too much." He stopped in the center of the star that dominated the room. "Die now." He raised his hand out to Eragon and black magic began to form around his hand.
An explosion burst outward from where Galbatorix was standing. Eragon covered his head as debris and dirt flew past him. When the dust settled, a hole ten feet across lay where the star once did. In the far corner Aesire stood, pushed the hair out of his face and said, "Strike two."
Jierda du dauthleikr: Break the mortal.
WOW, what a miserably short chapter. But, flip side of that is that I am, like, two or three chapters from finishing the first book! Awesome, right?
Did you know that it is against the law to whale hunt in Oklahoma? (What for it. Wait for it.) Did you know that in 1845 Boston had a law that stated you could not bathe unless you had a doctor's prescription? Did you know that in good old Allabami (Alabama) there is a law, quote, "That you may not impersonate a person of a variant persona," unquote?"
This one surprised me, like most of the other ones I put on the end did. Did you know that in Nebraska it is illegal to sell beer after midnight on Sunday, but it is totally legal to sell it on Monday? (Think about it. Think about it. Come on, I believe in you.)