I only own my own OCs. Anything in ' ' is mental speech, and ancient language translations at the bottom. Please review, and enjoy! And I'm going to save you the agony and skip right to the siege of Uru'baen.

"Emerald! Stop wriggling! I need to get your breastplate on!" I hefted the slab of metal, even though it was as big as me, and locked it onto the side plates. Emerald laid her lead on the ground, and I picked up the new head plate I'd made for Emerald now that she'd grown. I had inlaid more metal, and had shaped it better for her head. Now, the dragon helm had three horns and (opposite of the first helm) was pure silver. I even made a plate to wrap on the end of her tail, and attached broken spear-tips for more effect.

I was in my battle dress again, but this time, I was wearing a silver helm in the shape of dragon's head, which was modeled from Emerald. Laufsbläd hung at my side, and I had concealed two knives in each of my boots. I knew this would end the war. This battle will decide everything. I climbed onto Emerald, drew Laufsbläd, and held it to the air where the Varden, the soldiers on the wall, and even Murtagh and his dragon (that Eragon had told me was named Thorn) in the air could see it.

I was slightly angry, because Eragon and the elves had snuck in to open the gates, and though they said they would wait for me before attacking the palace, I knew they were only saying that to be kind. I told Emerald, 'Let's fly!' She leaped up into the air, and we saw something. It was an image! Murtagh was an image! From underneath, it seemed real, but from the sides and at an overview, it was slightly transparent. I quickly dug into my saddlebags for a piece of paper I'd found, and a loose scale, then ripped runes into the page. Then, I let it flutter to the ground where Garven or Roran Stronghammer would find it.

We hovered for awhile, distracting the archers, and soon, the metal gates opened. We dove into the fray, and a blood lust clouded my vision, making all go red. At one point, I saw Distal, and when he saw me, he ran at me, angrily screaming, and I had no choice. I quickly slashed, and cut his armor from left shoulder to his belt. I didn't want to cause him more pain, being an old friend, and so I whispered, "Deyja." He fell to the ground, and I again whispered, "Good-bye, Distal." It was painful fighting the men I laughed with, sparred with, sand songs with, and even beat in dice games.

The only other man I met that I'd known well was Tethesen, and I felt horrible killing the man who taught me some of my magic. But when he saw me, I didn't have to kill him, because he let his guard down, and one of the Varden spellcasters invaded his mind. He fell too, and I put his scared face out of mind. The rest faded into slash, parry, stab. Slash. Parry. Stab. Attack. Attack. And attack again.

Eventually, Emerald got tired carrying me and the armor, so I dismounted and fought with the same ease as when I rode Emerald. After awhile, I saw the elves and Eragon, and ran through the sea of soldiers, and asked, "I was keeping an eye out for you. Are you ready to sneak into the castle?" Bad signs I saw:

1. Blodgarm suddenly went pale.

2. Eragon looked away when I tried to make eye contact.

3. Arya started scrapping the ground with her boot.

I asked, "What's wrong?" After a long pause, with a background sound of dying voices, Blodgarm broke the silence in the group. "We... We are afraid your thirst for revenge might drive you to... Well, disrupt the mission's course. We saw the thirst for blood you showed a moment ago."

I backed up, slashed a soldier, and said, "You will attempt to deny me revenge? Galbatorix lied to me! He took seven years from me! Seven! Years! Do you know how painful these years were? How much I wanted to be free of this cursed city? I cannot be denied this! I must face Galbatorix!" Eragon opened his mouth to protest, but I yelled, "You know, you can find your own way in! I'm going to get in by myself!"

Eragon grabbed my wrist, but I slapped him away and said, "To think... To think I had feelings for you, Eragon. I thought you were brave, selfless, fair. Leave me alone now." And I ran down a darker alley. That was my first mistake.

"Stop, or I'll shoot. Skilna Bragh coats the tip, so it would affect you most dearly." A man with a draw bow stepped from the shadows. 'Ugh. When would this guy give up?' Murtagh was the man, and he was telling the truth. A black oil dripped from the arrow's tip, and burning the cobblestones below.

I asked, "But didn't Galbatorix want me alive?" Murtagh said, "You should just let me kill you. It would be less painful than what I go through, and Galbatorix favors me. He hates you for running away. Everything will only get worse."

He tightened his grip on the bow, and I prepared to dodge, but then, he drew three more arrows covered in poison, and each were aimed at fatal points. He whispered, "I'm sorry, Vraela. This will hurt less than other fates." And he released, an arrow aimed at my forehead, nose, neck, and chest.

I blocked off two arrows with Laufsbläd, and another by saying, "Oro eom deloi." Three down, one sinking into my chest. I felt the black oil spread, and when I looked down at the hole, it looked like black veins were spreading across my breast. Bu this wasn't the end. Murtagh suddenly screamed, and his eyes looked like... "Galbatorix..." My voice was scratchy and hard, and Murtagh/Galbatorix walked forward.

He touched my forehead, and said a word. It was no word I'd ever heard before, and I couldn't remember what it was or even sounded like, all I could remember was it radiated power. The pain of the poison dropped, but I could still feel it spreading. He grasped my wrist, and I lifted Laufsbläd the highest it would go, and swiped at Murtagh.

He slapped the flat of the blade, and pushed it into its sheath. I saw Eragon and Blodgarm around the edge of the building as Murtagh/Galbatorix said, "Rïsa." And we rose into the air. Eragon was below, yelling, but Blodgarm seemed to be holding him back from following.

~Throne Room~

Murtagh/Galbatorix landed up in the throne room, and set me down in front of the black throne. I watched as the black faded from Murtagh's eyes, and he looked at me, then hissed, "Why? This isn't right!" Galbatorix was suddenly on the throne, and a familiar shape was behind him. Shruikan.

I tried to charge the Black King, but the oil was strong, and it must have been a hybrid oil, because I felt as if I was running water, slipping away... Galbatorix laughed and said, "Well, if it isn't my daughter. Coming to visit, now, darling? I've missed you." His voice was the same compelling, yet blood-chilling cold, and made me want to scream.

Galbatorix's expression hardened, and he roared, "You will pay, girl. Pay! And I will not stand for my daughter to be named for a crazed killer. You will be renamed for a stronger, better man. Galbatora, you will be called!"

I screamed in my hoarse voice, "I'm Vraela! I will never be named for you! You can kill me first!" A glint appeared in his eye, and he said, "That can be arranged. But you should try being my servant first. Kveykva!" His open hand shot a strip of black lightning that shot me and I flew into the far wall with a deafening CRACK! I screamed, and as I struggled to get up, Galbatorix again yelled, "Kveykva!" He was aiming over me, though, and before I could dodge, black rocks fell on me. One, the largest, pinned my legs down, and another was on my left hand, and no matter how much I tried, I was trapped, the Skilna Bragh still taking effect.

Galbatorix laughed. "That should hold you while I chat with our visitors. Behave down there, Galbatora!" I watched him walk to his throne, but quickly yelling for the last time, "Kveykva!" And again, black rubble pressed down on me, but this time, I wasn't able to avoid any, and was swallowed by rock.