Hello !

Here comes the 22st chapter of the story!

Thanks for all the people who review, fav or favorite this story! More than 250 followers, you guys are awesome. Shall we keep on this trend ?

Here it comes, the first full scale battle, after 22 chapters ! I took great pleasure writing it and I hope it shows !

Jctherebel : NThanks :)

jwreden89: Thank you for your comments. The words I use (and thus, the repetition) is certainly the result of all the reasons you've shared. I might take you up to this offer.

Obviously, I own a computer, some books and even a cat. However, I own nothing in the Inheritance Cycle and Game of Thrones franchise. They do belong to Christopher Paolini and G.R.R Martin.

Without further ado, here comes the chapter !

Three long blasts indicated the presence of the first wights on the white field.

This battle would be completely different from most of the battles Eragon had experienced. As predicted by Jon, the battle would happen at night:

"The enemy won't wait out the storm, he brings the storm" had said the young man ominously.

The temperature had dropped dramatically the past hours and they could indeed feel a storm rising in the distance, but getting closer with each passing hour, bringing cold and death in its wake.

The faces of all the man surrounding him betrayed their fear, illuminated by the hundred small torches that had been lit. Few were able to keep a straight face in the light of the coming battle. No matter how thick their furs, Eragon could see the small shacking of their body.

There wouldn't be any speech tonight. The soldiers didn't need one. The stakes had never been higher for these men. They wouldn't fight to raid a castle or to win more lands for their lord. Tonight, they would fight for the survival of their families, for the freedom of their country. And he knew these men had thought hard the past day on this. Few had trained whereas many had preferred to spend the last hours sharing a drink, whispering in hushed tones or enjoy a quiet sunny albeit cold day.

Eragon didn't know how the battle would go. The Wall was crammed with people. They had discussed the different possibilities, imagined different fighting styles but they couldn't imagine what would happen, especially when their enemy didn't tire and would fight without faltering until the sun would rise. This was their only hope, their horizon on the verge of the coming battle.

In the meantime, the wights kept coming in and the dead were now completely covering the few yards remaining between the Wall and the edges of the forest. Behind, nothing could be seen except for a dark path of emptiness. And what had once been a wide plain of snow was now milling with unmoving dead walking soldiers. For some reasons, this unmoving picture looked colder than anything they had imagined before and he felt a sense of wrongness being there, so close to this. Saphira's instincts betrayed the same feeling of wrongness and danger and Eragon had since long learned to trust them.

But this was also the occasion for Eragon and Saphira to have their first look at the enemy. They had tracked them for so long and heard about them for even longer that their curiosity had been picked.

Saphira was the first to break the mental silence that had taken place between them in the past minutes.

"They smell like nothing" commented Saphira "Silent, not making a sound, unmoving, tasteless. What is this new enemy Eragon?" asked the dragon. He couldn't find any fear or doubt in her tone, just the curiosity of a hunter that had encountered a new prey.

She was wearing her new armor, that Eragon had enchanted during their travel; Black and magic resistant, it left barely any space for arrows to reach a weak point on Saphira. She was currently hidden behind the Wall, watching the fields through her Rider's eyes. For some reason, the dead had only spread over a few hundred feet, exactly in front of Eastwatch by the Sea.

"I don't know. Be careful please" he replied, also trying to decipher what he was seeing. But it was difficult to understand anything from this ocean of limbs, torn apart, rotten, with bones pocking at such a distance.

Her blue eyes settled on him, four hundred feet below and he could feel all her love through her gaze.

There seemed to be some activity on the other side of the Wall since all the men started to whisper nervously. Below, the army had apparently woken up and was moving, creating a small path where one character was currently walking. Eragon recognised the Night King from Jon's description and from the power he spread. He knew it would be pointless to hit him with an arrow, due to winds, and the giants that would shield him but unconsciously, he felt his hands tighten on the grip on Brisingr.

All across the Wall, a few men -those was recognised the Night King- tensed, unable to do anything but to watch him. To reach him with an arrow at such an

Because the wights were keeping their distance from the Night King, thus creating a small empty space around him, it was easy for Eragon and the elves to keep track on him and to have a good look on him.

Whereas dragons were fire made flesh, he looked like the definition of ice made flesh. He had a humanoid stature and wore an armor – that fitted him perfectly and was in pristine condition- perfectly intertwined with ice. He would pass for a soldier if it wasn't for his blue skin and his crown that seemed to be a part of him. His appearance was deathly, just like Galbatorix had been and just looking at him made Eragon cold.

But the elves and some of the seniors or the Northerner army were mostly curious about the lack of movement from the zombies. Both were aware of the presence of the other group and they had expected a frontal assault as soon as the night had started. They had expected to remove zombies who wanted to climb on the wall as soon as the last rays of the sun had disappeared. However, night had completely fallen and the dead were still frozen in place, having stopped their advance long minutes ago. For now, they were looking ahead, blankly, their only movements being done to offer some room to their leader.

Nevertheless, this lack of actions wasn't necessarily a bad thing since the blizzard had gotten more intense and many were struggling against the wind atop the massive structure. Even though their armor was light, Eragon and the elves didn't necessarily suffer from the cold with the spells around them. It made movements all the more easier. But Eragon couldn't afford to think on the weight of his armor or the cold created by the wind. At the moment, all his attention was turned towards the Night King.

The next actions would prove how easy it was for plans to go awry. Before they could think more of the absence of actions, he saw the Night King bring a small item on his lips. Automatically, Eragon strengthened the grip around his sword. He knew what was coming. In a moment, the Night King would start a long night of fighting.

All their bows were ready were ready to hit the wights as soon as it would start. They were waiting for the signal from their Master. There was no way they'd be able to force and dig a hole in the wall so there only possibility was to climb. At this distance, he didn't expect to hear a loud noise and there was no recount of any form of speech. Surprisingly, no sound came from the horn but Eragon wished there had been.

Within a few seconds, hundreds if not thousands of small zombies started to climb on the Wall in an inhuman frenzy. There was no coordination, just an unstoppable desire to kill. They were pushing each other to be the fastest, the first to kill.

But more than this sudden and harsh invasion, what shocked Eragon the most were the vibrations he felt coming from the Wall's defences. And by the shocked looks on the elves' faces, they too had felt it.

They hadn't been able to hear anything from the horn, but they had felt the huge hit it had made of the numerous wards of the Wall. The majority of the old and powerful magical defences which stood around the wall and been obliterated in a second, destroyed by the powerful artefact the Night King had found. In a split second, all their plans had been turned around and the Army of the Dead had taken a significant advantage.

Suddenly, Eragon understood what the purpose of these old wards were. He had imagined that they were meant to keep the structure tall and to keep it from melting, if hot temperatures reached this far North. But the real purpose of the wards, which had now almost completely disappeared, was to provide a magical defence and to prevent the Army of the dead to cross the Wall. This was the reason behind the wight's passiveness moments ago. They had been magically prohibited to climb the structure. And now, most were gone on a large radius.

But Eragon couldn't think more of the magical properties of the wall because the wights were starting to get higher and higher. He could see some of them falling but contrary to normal humans, the wouldn't be fatal. The wights would always recover and start their climbing once more. It was completely unnatural, a twist of magic the likes of Galbatorix had done to prevent his soldiers to feel pain. The small fires Saphira had lit up hours before were mostly out, just enough to illuminate the ghostly face of the solider, who were slowly starting to understand the unnatural they were fighting. In the distance, Eragon got a look on Jaime Lannister and Randyll Tarly. Neither had been able to keep a straight face keep blown away by the unnatural blizzard and it was more and more difficult to watch ahead.

They didn't have enough arrows for each of them and they would be unable to retrieve them. Saphira couldn't risk breathing on them, out of fear of damaging the wall. Eragon didn't see any escape at the moment but he knew he'd have to fight, probably during the whole night.

"Stay safe little one" whispered Saphira through their bond.

"Always" replied Eragon, taking the opportunity to share a last bonding moment with his partner.

The first wights were already halfway through their climbing but no orders had been given yet. All were waiting for Jon to give the order, to decide on the course of action. He didn't look afraid, but he was deep in thoughts, watching the progress wights with his grey eyes. He lifted his head and he faced his man.

"Spears on the ready!" exclaimed Jon.

Eragon's eyes widened as he understood Jon's idea. The Northerner had reached the same conclusion as Eragon about their lack of ammunitions. He was trying to spare as much dragonglass as possible. And so, he was trying to destroy wights the moment they would cross the Wall. This tactic would mean that the men would only get one free shot the kill their enemy. If they missed, the wights would cross the border and be on an equal footing. However, if the men managed to hit true, they would save some of their precious ore. Absently, he noticed the Night King taking a few steps back, surrounded by several White Walkers, and going back to the edges of the forest.

Many of the soldiers and Brothers of the Night's Watch had understood Jon's idea and looked quite uncomfortable. Their hands were shacking around their spears while the wights kept their restless climb. Everyone was now able to see the skeletons, with flesh hanging on their side, mouth open, excited by the desire to maim and kill.

They had a quick pace, looking undisturbed by the unnatural cold coming from the Wall on their exposed flesh.

Eragon gripped Brisingr as he readied himself. Suddenly, the quietness of the Wall was broken by two dozen of wights reaching the top of the Wall. The corpse in front of Eragon probably had belonged to a wildling in another lifetime. He wore tattered furs which had seen better days and the remaining of a sword. Most of his face was gone and he could clearly see the bones from his arms and chest. But the most unsettling part were the blue eyes, staring at him emotionlessly.

Before his mind fully registered what he was seeing, his right arm moved automatically and pierced the corpse standing a few feet below him. Immediately, the light in his eyes disappeared and he fell hundreds of feet to never rise again. The men around him followed his lead very quickly, and the vast majority of the first wave fell to never move again. A few corpses even managed to bring down some wights in their fall.

But two lonely managed to cross the top and immediately jumped on the closest people. However, they were quickly put down before any harm was done, and the two soldiers who had missed their hit escaped unharmed, but pretty shocked from what they had seen up close. However, they didn't have the time to celebrate their success because the second wave was already on them, with more wights, pressing to overwhelm them. The spears and swords started to move again, a movement they would keep doing tirelessly during the next hours, striking more and more dead, pining them

It was an endless task, and they were unable to see the end of it. Eragon soon dropped his spear to use Brisingr, with which he had more room for movements. His sword kept cutting through wights who never managed to get past him a single time. He quickly noticed that he didn't need to purr magic into the blade to kill them. The brightsteel and Rhunön's craftmanship were enough to get past their defences and wards, which alleviated Eragon from his worry and allowed him to keep his energy.

Soon, Eragon lost track of time. His concentration was completely dedicated to the small portion of Wall in front of him. Losing his focus for a split second would be enough to let half a dozen of these wights cross the border and they couldn't afford it.

In the middle of the blizzard, a long cry erupted in the night, catching his attention. Eragon saw a lone man fell from the Wall. He was surprised and horrified to see four wights freely jump from the Wall to follow the poor northerner who has fallen. He didn't know how this situation had happened but, in that split second, five wights had jumped and were starting to make some damages around them on the soldiers who were starting to tire. Unfortunately, the men were overwhelmed and had troubles defending both the wights climbing and those already on top. The soldiers were unable to stop the flow. Unlashing some magic to dispel the wights close to him, Eragon and two elves fired a dragonglass arrow to help.

All landed but it wasn't enough. Their arrows had offered a few seconds of respite but already more wights were bursting through the small hole in the defence. But before Eragon could fire another arrow, Jon jumped into the pack of wights and with a few parries with his longsword he was able to quickly dispel them and to bring back the situation under control at this small portion of the Wall.

But they knew that such an occurrence was bound to happen, rather soon than later at another point, except perhaps the places defended by Eragon and the elves. It looked like the men would have to pray that either Jon, Eragon, Jaime Lannister or anyone rather skilled with his sword would be able to help like it had just been the case.

They could feel the balance of the battle slowly shifting and they were helpless to change it. The situation was starting to get out of control, and Eragon felt hesitant to use some magic. He didn't know the exact nature of the wards present here and even with The Word, he couldn't afford to meddle with the wards in the middle of a battle, especially one where they could be overwhelmed by the numbers in mere seconds. The battle of Urû'baen had taught them the danger of trying this. Already he had left his position twice to help some men, burning and hacking some wights who had crossed the perimeter of the Wall. Each occurrence was taking longer to solve and each time, more damages were done.

The Night King who hadn't made a move since the use of his Horn stood at the edge of the forest, watching emotionlessly the climb of his minions. They might have killed thousands of them, but it was barely a dent in his army

Maybe he hadn't expected their defences, or perhaps he knew that if nothing changed, they would be unable to resist more than a day, two at most and he was willing to make those sacrifices. He had the advantage of numbers and his army didn't suffer from the pain, the cold or tiredness.

Unless something happened, they wouldn't be able to keep up like this more than a few hours. And if they wanted to survive this war, each and every one of them would need to kill hundreds if not thousands of wights and only then would there be some way for them to equilibrate the balance of numbers.

It was at this time Saphira decided to make her presence known. She had been absent from the fights since they had been in the dark concerning the strategy of the Army of the Dead. They hadn't wanted to let her burn the whole Wall and to make the whole structure crumble on itself, or to expose herself to thousands of dead archers.

But Saphira had decided otherwise. With a mighty roar, the blue dragoness was high in the air, ascending to reach Eragon's altitude. The men jumped in fright but were quick to turn back to the fight, with a renewed energy. The wights on the other hand, remained completely unfazed by this sudden irruption, their mind completely focused on their single objective

The whole scene looked unreal. Saphira, cladded in a deep rich black armor stood only a few feet away from Eragon. Time had stopped between them, and for a split second, they escaped the battle, lost in their own mindset.

"My lady"

"Let's dance tonight Eragon. Let our blades and fire face off against the cold of the night" whispered Saphira dangerously, making the surrounding rumble. But none of this mattered for Eragon, lost in the blue eyes of Saphira who seemed alit with a renewed energy.

"Always. You have my heart my lady."

And without losing a second, he jumped on her back as she spread her wings open, ready to jump into the night.

At this point, Eragon and Saphira were only one, their minds completely intertwined. Paradoxically, it was during these moments that they were truly one. During these thrilling moments, in the middle of battles, Eragon truly felt whole with Saphira.

"Argetlam, this is too dangerous, we don't know what unique magic they could use!" started Blödhgarm who had witnessed the whole scene.

"I won't be alone, Saphira is with me, and most of the Eldunaris too" explained Eragon

"Let me be your shield in that case" replied Blödhgarm without losing a second.

"What do you think Saphira?" asked Eragon quickly

"He's right, I can handle another one, and he's used to dragon flying; It wouldn't hurt" she replied quickly, her head turned North, watching the ocean of wights waiting to climb the Wall.

Eragon nodded to the elf who was quick to jump on Saphira's back. There was no more time to lose. With their absence, the Wall would be even more vulnerable and they knew they would be unable to stop the climb of those already on the Wall.

With no time to lose, Saphira took some height to quickly assess the situation. It was bad. The entire plain and the Wall were covered by wights. It looked like a disease, spreading all over the place. What had once been a stronghold now looked like a sick institution, on the verge of collapsing.

More and more of the wight were on the Wall, endless waves crashing against the thin line of defence atop the structure. The motto of the Wall, the shield of the Realm, had probably never been so true.

This scenario repeated itself on a large distance, at least a hundred yards. This was the section where the magical defences of the Wall had been broken by the Horn.

Saphira dived in the direction of the ground, eager to kill as many of these unnatural creatures. Opening her giant maw, flames started to erupt and to burn many of them without offering them a chance to escape.

There weren't only humans in this sea of horrors. He recognised in between wolves, bears and creatures he had never seen before. But he had no time to think further on that, his whole attention was turned on his surroundings, to make sure nothing would be able to hurt Saphira or himself. So far, it was going well since they had no means no attack in the air but he wouldn't relax until the night was over or the battle stopped.

However, from the corner of his eyes, he saw movements in the edge of the forest.

"White Walkers" supplied Umaroth mentally. "They're more than simple dead. We need to treat carefully around those" he added with a calculating tone.

And Eragon had to agree with the elf's statement. The closer his mind got to them, the closer he was from the centre of the web. Many ridges of this impressive mind structure joined on these White Walkers. They looked more dangerous and more independent than the wights currently attempting to overwhelm the soldiers.

But Eragon was more concerned about the giant icy spear that one was carrying and bringing to the Night King. He had no doubt Saphira was the target and they wouldn't be taking any chance with it.

Blödhgarm had also seen it and both had their bows out. The storm was raging and they'd have to fuel magic in their arrows to go through it. Hitting one of those White Walkers would be impossible otherwise.

Channelling his magic, Eragon whispered a spell on his arrow before taking an aim. The White Walker was walking slowly, the spear in his left hand, making it easy to predict his movements.

Saphira was still making damages in the ranks of the dead, who were helpless to offer any resistance. A few giants had tried to raise their fists, to no avail. Their progress to climb were getting hindered by Saphira's flames, and the bottom of the Wall was now out of reach, blocked by a continuous column of flames. From above, the scene looked surreal, flames licking the melted ice, making it impossible to start the long climb. Eragon hoped that the damages atop the Wall were minimal. But he knew that if things became too difficult, one of the elves would be able to reach out to him.

Right now, his concentration was turned to the White Walker who was carrying the spear. He felt Blödhgarm also purring magic but like him, his arrow hadn't been released. It was a complicated balance between Saphira's harsh flying, the wind and the low vision, even with their enhanced sight. He carefully pulled the string and waited for the right moments, holding, ready to release his arrow at the right moment.

The movements he felt behind his back informed him that Blödhgarm was following the same pattern and adjusting to the same issues. Knowing the skill of the elf, they would likely release their arrows at the same time, at the earliest opportunity.

Only three things mattered for Eragon at this point: his position, the path of his arrow and the enemy.

Saphira kept alternating between straight lines, tight turns and dives. It was a ruthless and methodical destruction of all the beings standing below her.

It was a prowess in itself to remain seated while she flew in these hard conditions. She knew her Rider was trying to fire an arrow and with the way their mind were bounded, it was almost as if she was aiming too. Eragon could predict the way she would move and she could see the path the arrow would take.

Finally, after a harsh turn, they found an opportunity. During a split second, a small opening appeared between all the enemies. They had a clear vision between Saphira's back and their targets. Eragon and Blödhgarm immediately released the tension accumulated between their fingers and the arrow left their bow. Their bowstring shook and they could hear the arrow fly against the wind.

The strain on his magic was more important than what he had expected. Their arrows flew against the wind, which was also probably fuelled by some ancient magic, in the direction of the two mysterious creatures who had made no move to avoid them.

The whooshing sound rang in the dead of the night, and for a moment, time seemed to pause. The gaze of the Night King seemed to widen as he found the origin of the noise and followed the path of the arrows. With inhuman speed, he made a quick sidestep, avoiding by a few inches Blödhgarm's arrow, which had been directed to his head and which ended its course on the bark tree just behind.

Eragon's arrow on the other hand hit true. Fuelled by his magic, it flew from his bow to finish its path in the White Walker's ribs. The effect was instantaneous. The humanoid elder made of ice stopped dead in tracks and, after a split second, exploded in a thousand pieces of ice. This light explosion wasn't that far from what he remembered from Durza's death.

The most surprising part came immediately after. All the small strings which had been attached to this White Walkers also seemed to disappear instantaneously, which seemed to cause the end of a few hundreds of wights who crumbled on themselves. Both Eragon and Blödhgarm saw the dead-horse which had been carrying the White Walker fall in a puddle of bones and dead flesh without any apparent reason.

"They're linked to one master, and if it dies, they all die with him!" exclaimed Eragon with some wonder.

"Well, we have to kill the centre and everything will be over then" retorted Saphira, after another wave of flames which disintegrated a few dozens of wights who has been too slow to avoid her.

But Saphira's sound advice would have to wait before being tested. With the death of one of his lieutenants, there seemed to be a change in the Night King's mind. Before Eragon could adjust his aim to fire a second arrow, the Night King raised his right hand.

The spectacle that followed was as breath-taking as it was terrifying. In an almost perfect coordination, all the dead still living in the plains stopped their advance and ran in the direction of the wood. The Night King led the way and in a split second, he was gone, hidden in the darkness provided by the trees.

There was no need for him to wait to make sure his orders had been passed. They obeyed him mindlessly and true enough, the whole army followed his order in a mesmerising choreography.

The most extraordinary part came from the wights who were in the middle of their long climb of the Wall. Without any exception, they all jumped from where they stood, oblivious to the hundred feet fall. This left Eragon speechless, who could do nothing but watch, as they seemed to jump fearlessly. A rain of corpse started without any warning at Eastwatch by the Sea. In the middle of this horrifying rain, Eragon was pretty sure he caught sign of one or two Brothers of the Night's Watch who had been killed in the past few hours and resurrected during the battle.

Saphira had also stopped moving, captivated by what she was seeing and the lack of danger. Remaining high, they were on the front row to assist to this madness.

Coming back to her sense, she dived for a last time in the direction of the fleeing wights, to have a last go and kill as many of them while the Army of the Dead was retreating back in the obscurity of the forest.

"This makes sense but also goes against everything we've ever seen" concluded Umaroth, trying to summarize what they had just witnessed.

Saphira was flying back to the top of the Wall with the Sun rising on their left. The first night was over and the Wall and Eastwatch by the Sea had survived it. But they knew it was only the start. The Night King had been toying with them, probing their defences. All the elves had felt the power that had remained behind, lurking in the darkness. The Night King could probably go on for another dozen nights like this but they couldn't and there lie the crux of the problem

Jumping from Saphira's back, Eragon and Blödhgarm reached the safety of the ground. The night was over and they had survived.

This is the end of the chapter! I hope you've enjoyed it! The first battle, I hope you really enjoyed it, as I've said, I took great plasure writing it?

As always, reviews and critics are appreciated, especially here! A good incentive to publish faster, because as you've seen, more is coming ;) Critics help me a lot to improve and adapt! I try to answer all your messages and take them into account! Can we reach 10 reviews ? That would be amazing!

Thank you all and stay safe!