I only own my own OCs. As usual, mental speech in ' ' and ancient language translations at the bottom of the page. Please review and hope you like the story! :)

Why me? Hadn't one hundred years in stone been enough, without the suspicion roused around me for my foster father? Why had the world inflicted so much on me? Falling into Lake Leona, buried in rubble, forced into a fight with a Shade, taking Eragon from me... If it wasn't my determination that kept me fighting, it was my anger at my cursed fate. I could see black, but nothing else. I couldn't move. Everything felt cold, threatening; and I almost screamed in frustration. A voice rang out, "Well, I believe it is time." I could suddenly move, but I still couldn't see and the cold feeling didn't leave me. I had been laying on stone, or at least something hard, and I attempted to stand, but the cold feeling had invaded my senses, and I just collapsed again. I tried to speak, but the same cold feeling restrained me, and I asked in mind, 'What have you done to me?!' The Shade laughed, the sound cooling me even more, and he said, "I've only dulled your abilities until the two who killed me arrive. I have to pass the time somehow, so why not play around with you?" I tried to scramble away, but he pounced and held me where I was. He tapped my throat, and most of the cold faded, and again my legs and said, "I prefer to hear the screaming. And elvish screams are slightly melodious." I then knew that I wasn't going to be a corpse; I was bait. Arya and Eragon were going to try and rescue me, and Galbatorix would be waiting to attack from the shadows.

I instantly felt something more in my body, I knew I had to die, or escape. I struggled out from under the Shade, pushed him away, and I stumbled blindly one direction. I knew I wasn't going to get far, but I needed to try, and to provoke Galbatorix. I heard an angry growl, and the Shade yelled, "Fine! I'll have a little target practice." A sudden sound from behind startled me, but I kept running, until something dug into my back, and I fell to the ground. I started crawling away, despite my new injury due to who knows what, but I heard the same noise, and quickly pulled to the left. The acidic smell of smoke filled my nose, and I managed to work my way to my shaky legs. I began to run, and Galbatorix yelled, "I will let you run through the lonely desert with something to remember me by! Brisingr!" I yelped and dropped to the ground, but my upper right arm still was burned. This was deeper than the spark on my back, and I could feel a cold sense creeping in... No. I had to stay awake. I picked myself up, and nothing more came to attack me.

~Eragon's POV~

"Saphira! Calm down Ringar, please!" We were stopped in the Spine, as the dragons had given me the energy to transport us straight across the sea, but we now rested. Saphira snapped back, 'I'd like to see you calm this crazed hatchling! Even Emerald had been calmer, and she jumped like a bug constantly.' 'It's not that bad, Saphira. Come on, I know your anxious about your egg, but you must calm down.' She blew a plume of smoke from her nostrils, but wrapped the little rust-colored hatchling in her tail, pulling him tight against her scales. I lay against her other side, stroking the silvery young dragon, Argeta, and taking a long swig from my water-skin. Everything was perfect. I was home in Alagaësia, the dragons were thriving; nothing could ruin- "Eragon!"

I bolted up, looking for the person who's voice it was. "Arya! Arya, is that you?" A shaded green figure descended, Firnen, and the most beautiful elf ever to live (in my opinion) sat regally in the saddle. But something was wrong. Her face looked terrified and worried, and I knew the peace I had expected wasn't here. She leapt off Firnen, and ran to me. SHe screamed, "Eragon! I can't believe it! I didn't know! It can't be happening again!" I held her softly by the arms, and asked gently, "Arya. You must calm down. Now, tell me slowly what the problem is." Arya muttered, "I thought he was gone, but he killed her. He was there. No one lives after facing a Shade." A Shade? This wasn't good. Durza had been incredibly powerful, and even with my new power, Shades were still a problem. But who was "She"? I asked slowly, "Who did he kill?" "She didn't deserve it! Vraela. Vraela... Eragon, she can't be alive. I hate this, and that isn't even the worst! Galbatorix is the Shade. Some dolt tried to tame his soul... Eragon, why?" I looked to the side, unable to meet her horrified gaze, and I told her quietly, "We lived. Vraela has a hundred year old legacy. She is alive. Did you try and scry on her?" Arya shook her head, and I knelt to the ground. I muttered the spell I'd invented to pull water from underground, and then, the phrase for scrying. The first thing I noticed was the surface wasn't black, which meant she was alive! But when I saw her, I couldn't hold that happiness.

Her faced was marred by blood, her silver dress ripped and torn, showing a green scar on her shoulder that puzzled me. Her right arm was badly burnt, and her eyes... They were a milky color, as if she couldn't... Couldn't see... She was running over sand, a look of total terror showing in her blind eyes. Arya looked over my shoulder and gasped. "Death seems kinder than that..." I agreed, but didn't voice it; she was traumatized enough by knowing our greatest foe had returned. I stood and said as bravely as I could after seeing her that way, "We must find her. Where did you last see her?" Arya replied, "She was at the dragon haven. But Alaster told me he and Quin were attacked by the West Gate." I nodded, and told Saphira, 'Take the hatchlings to Ellesmera. Stay there with them; protect them.' She snorted, 'And let you run straight to your doom again? No, Eragon. The elves will care for the children. I must come.' I groaned, but accepted that she wouldn't be denied. I heafted Ringar and Argetan onto Saphira, and we lifted into the air.