Hello !
Here comes the 23th 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 second part of the battle ! It took some time, but I'm so happy about the result, and I hope you will appreciate it :D
The damages were more important than what they had expected. When Eragon had left the Wall on Saphira's back, the situation had been dire.
Now, with a few hours of sleep and after few discussions with Jon and his friends, he truly understood how close the lines standing on the top had been to collapse. Moments after Eragon and Blödhgarm had left on Saphira's back, the wights had reached the top of the Wall with numbers never seen before. Only the help of the elves and Saphira's flaming barricade had prevented the happening of a disaster.
Still, dozens had lost their lives during the fights and all the men were tired. But they all knew that the fight wasn't over and that the war had only started. In a few hours, the Army of the Dead would strike again and they would face off the enemy once again, perhaps in greater numbers and with less ammunitions and soldiers.
Eragon was also anxious and worried about the balance of force present at the battle. His concern was motivated by some small aspects of the battle that not many had noticed and yet stood at the forefront of his mind. He was primarily concerned about the horn the Night King had used. The wards of the Wall had been blasted apart and he was afraid to think about the outcome of another blast. The Night King would probably recuperate enough to try it once more tonight and Eragon feared the consequences of it.
This fear was behind the rushed meeting between all the Alagaësian at a small portion of the Wall not far from Eastwatch by the Sea but untouched by the actions from yesterday. Helped by the Eldunaris, they were currently studying the structure of the wards present to understand their effects and how they were able to prevent the crossing of the wights. Eragon had theorised that if the wards were specifically designed to stop the wights then they might uncover some words of the Ancient Language related to these creatures and use the Word to help them.
It was a difficult task and they were clearly lacking time. The wards were millennials old and the people who had created those were as different from him than he was from Saphira.
Eragon just hoped to be able to power a ward strong enough to stop or at least decrease the effects of the next blast. They couldn't afford to let the Wall collapse on them. Already, soldiers were retreating in the direction of Winterfell and all the castle from the Wall were being deserted. They wouldn't be caught unaware by an attack South. Eastwatch by the Sea was the last bastion of resistance that was stopping the Army of the Dead from invading Westeros.
Finally, they had also lost the effect of surprise created by Saphira yesterday.
The Night King would be a fool to let his army wait idly in front of the Wall. while a dragon could easily reduce said army to ashes without any risks. And while the wights lacked all form of strategy and care, this wasn't the case of their leader.
Overall, the only positive aspect they had discovered was the death of hundreds of wights when Eragon's arrow had killed a White Walker. They had theorized this possibility but since they had never encountered such a case, they hadn't be sure. Now, they were fixed and would try their best to kill Wight Walkers or even the Night King, knowing the positive impact of such a kill.
Sooner than what they had wanted, the night started to fall and the wind rose. It wasn't a blizzard but they knew it was only a matter of time before it came on them full strength, freezing their bodies to the bones and reducing their visibility to the very minimum.
The men around him were shivering, from the cold but also from the fear. He noticed that many kept looking down, where the marks of the previous battle were apparent for all to see.
The whole Wall was filled with bones and fragments of the army of the Dead, stuck in the ice. The once shiny and spotless wall now looked dark and oppressing. Blood was also present, mixed in the snow and the ice. The white and blue structure was now tainted in red and brown, enhancing the lock of sickness which had started to appear yesterday.
The losses from yesterday were obvious both in the presence of the gore but also from the absence of those who only yesterday were still fighting by their side. Some of them would be on the other side of the battle tonight, controlled by an abomination.
Night was falling but there still wasn't any sign of the dead. He knew they were hidden in the forest, not far from the edges. But going above with Saphira would be far too dangerous, since he would be unable to dodge any frozen spear in time. And since he had felt the power of the horn, Eragon wasn't taking any chance. There was something dangerous and deathly with these items and he didn't know if they caried another powerful weapon.
Their aim wasn't to kill the enemy tonight. Their aim was to hold it off, to give another day of respite to Westeros. Each day was another day of mining, of soldiers moving to defend the North and arrows being crafted. Eragon knew that hundreds of crows were flying across the continent to ask for help.
And after the first night, they knew help would be needed. Help provided by Daenerys, Cersei, Winterfell and whoever wanted to save this place. Eragon had caught sign of Jaime Lannister who had survived the night. The expression on his face proved that the knight had reached the same conclusion. The night would be tiring and it probably would only be the second of many to come. Their only hope to end the war tonight was to kill the leader of the Army of the Dead, the Night King.
Said leader had just started to emerge from the forest, alone. The elves and Eragon were able to clearly distinguish the small horn he was holding in his right hand. There wasn't anything particular about it but they all knew the power behind it.
Immediately, they all pulled an arrow and prepared to fire. Eragon didn't want to miss an opportunity like this and fuelled his arrow with magic. Using the Word, his arrow should be able to pierce any ward put in place.
After a few steps, the Night King stopped and lifted his arm to bring the horn to his lips. This was all they needed. In perfect synchronisation, the elves and Eragon released the tension and fired their arrow in his direction. About a dozen flew in his direct, each with a deadly accuracy.
It must have been a sight, to watch this scene unfold from above. Twelve arrows had been fired at the exact same time, in the same direction from twelve distinct points, split all over the bastion of Eastwatch by the Sea. All of them were converging at a great speed on the Night King, who stood only a few feet away from the limit of the forest. Fuelled by magic, nothing seemed to be able to stop their progress.
Before said arrows could reach their target, the Night King raised his left hand, creating a huge blast of wind. Most surprisingly, the magic fuelled inside the arrows wasn't enough and many were now harmlessly flying in another direction. However, Eragon's arrow looked unfazed by this magical interference and continued its deathly path. But before it could finish its run, the Night King moved with inhuman speed and jumped out of the way of the arrow before blowing the horn in front of a group of surprised elves and humans who had silently observed this attack.
The whole scene had only taken a few seconds, but it was already a hard blow for the Wall.
Before any could react and lament their lost opportunity, they felt the consequences of the Night King's actions. The whole Wall shook, moved by a powerful and ancient force. Many screamed, surprised by this sudden and unexpected awakening. Huge chunks of ice cracked and some fell in a deafening noise.
The remaining wards had been destroyed and only Eragon's recent addition had prevented the Wall from collapsing on itself right away.
The stare of the Night King was murderous, angry by his lack of success, but he lacked the energy to pull another stunt like that tonight. But they knew tomorrow would be the end of the Wall if they managed to survive the night. Only a miracle would be enough to stop it from happening.
Swiftly and silently, the Night King retreated back to the forest. There was nothing they could do at this point, except waste their arrows on him. Eragon could hear the desolations from the Night's Watch filled with some hope. Some were probably expecting that the fights for the night were done since the Wall was still standing and that they had won without fighting.
Even though it pained him to admit it, Eragon had to concede that the power he released was impressive. There was no doubt left in Eragon's mind that this adversary was much more powerful than Durza.
And then, silence came back. The deep grumble coming from Wall had stopped but cracks now littered the whole structure and the men looked uneasy on it. However, he saw the tension leaving some of their shoulders. They probably expected a quiet night since the Night King's plan appeared to have failed.
Their hope would be shattered soon enough.
Their only warning was a sudden roar. It was something wild, a scream from death itself, powered by millennials old winters. Immediately after, thousands of wights emerged from the forest, running madly in the direction of the Wall in a frightening controlled incoordination.
The strategy of the Night King had changed overnight. He had seen Eragon's rebuttal to fly over the forest and had decided to keep his army there, sending waves after waves. And since his soldiers didn't tire, they could cross the small distance in a few seconds, with their only fear being Saphira's fire when she was circling, which wasn't the case at the moment.
The wight also seemed to climb the Wall quicker than a day ago. Filled with bones and cracks, they had plenty of grips they didn't have the night before. Eragon knew many of the men atop Wall would have been filled with dread to use bones as grips. Unfortunately for them, their opponents didn't seem to have such qualms.
"Spears on the ready" screamed Jon, his voice cutting into the night.
The men quickly followed but they started to whisper nervously between them, afraid by this new strategy and their apparent inability to stop the wights until it was too late.
"Where's the dragon!" screamed one man fearfully.
More men voiced a similar statement, questioning the Saphira's absence but Eragon left their question unanswered. Now wasn't the time, with the wights only a few seconds away from their blades.
Saphira was currently a few hundred feet away, hidden from the enemies. They didn't want the Night King to feel her and she would attack like yesterday, when the situation would be critical. This decision had annoyed her greatly but she had understood their reasons and Eragon knew Glaedr had had words with her.
Their latest upgrade on the Wall seemed to be paying dividends. A hundred men had spent all the afternoon working on the Wall filling the surface of the structure with hundreds of small shards of dragonglass. Already they could see dozens of wights falling, dead before they had even reached the ground, after some part of their decayed body had brushed one of these hidden fragments.
Soon enough, they started to hack, cut and pierce through hundreds of wights. Too many still managed to finish their climb unharmed. They had fallen into a deadly rhythm and Eragon's part of the Wall was kept relatively safe. But the same couldn't be said for the others.
All over the top of the Wall, people were screaming, begging for help, overwhelmed by wights who kept coming back, tirelessly. Something would have to be done quickly. He froze when he saw that the wights were also starting to go through the ice at the bottom of the wall. He couldn't assess their progress but it was a risk they couldn't take. He also noticed that monsters were also trying the dangerous climb. Ice spiders, bigger than horses, were frightfully fast to climb. Their eights legs pierced the ice which offered them a solid grip and made it impossible for them to fall. It was only the timely intervention of the elves who managed to stop them with a well-placed arrow that was preventing a disaster from happening. Should one of them manage to reach the top, the consequences would be disastrous.
After a few hours of fighting, Blödhgarm was next to him seconds before Saphira arrived. This time, there was no point to protest. The presence of the elf would be valuable to protect Saphira from the Night King. She appeared only a few seconds later, robed in her dark armor, her eyes reflecting the fire that was burning inside of her.
There wasn't a second to lose for them and they immediately jumped on her back, perfectly evaluating the jump, making the whole transition look smooth and effortless.
Without losing any second, Saphira resumed her deathly ballet. She was an artist and fire was her tool. Each of her flames was spit with a deadly accuracy. The wights stood no chance to escape her and the fields standing at the bottom of the Wall quickly became a giant and deathly work of art. It was a breath-taking craftsmanship.
Since the Night King was nowhere to be seen, she kept alternating between straight lines, half-turns and what looked like hazardous turns. They would be helpless to see him throw a javelin in Saphira's direction. During this attack, she never stopped breathing fire, turning to ashes thousands of monsters and slowly giving some hope to the soldiers.
During one of those sharp turns, Eragon froze. Saphira also felt something disturbing and almost burnt a whole section of the Wall in this split second of distraction. She managed to correct her path just in time, her right wing almost touching the surface of the Wall.
They had heard something they hadn't planned, something that shouldn't be possible: the unmistakable sound of a thunder of dragons. The dragons weren't very far and would reach the Wall in a few seconds.
Without losing a second, Saphira immediately left the battlefield and went in the direction of her pack. Because they had recognised the dragons who were coming. Four were coming in their direction, with one being covered in a leather armor. There was no time to lose and they couldn't afford to let Daenerys go into the battle unsupervised, especially with the threat of the Night King. Because indeed, Daenerys Targaryen had come with her three dragons to the Wall.
After a few seconds, they had met with Daenerys and her three dragons South of the Wall. The difference couldn't be more pronounced. Eragon and Saphira looked regal, covered in shining armor, with a sword bloodied hanging at his side. Saphira's nostrils were still pouring smoke and her eyes were burning with passion. On the other hand, Daenerys wore her usual attire, with furs while her dragons didn't have any protection. But there was no time to lose, and each cry coming from the Wall reminded them of that fact.
"I don't have much time; the battle is on the go and we can't afford to lose more time. The army of the dead is hidden in the forest on the other side of the wall. If they want to reach the wall and start climbing it, they need to pass on a small space where they can't hide. with nothing on it. With Saphira, we try to burn the waves of dead while they try to cross, since we can't burn them during their climbing" explained Eragon to Daenerys who was slowly nodding as he spoke, observing the Wall and probably imagining what was happening on the other side.
"Can I help you with this?" asked Daenerys
"If you remain safe, nothing should be able to harm your dragons. But stay as far as possible from the forest and don't fly over it, "replied Eragon quickly.
'Why is that?"
"The Night King is more powerful than anything you've probably ever faced. He's now hidden in the forest but has weapons strong enough to harm or kill dragons. Don't take any risks with him,"
Daenerys nodded and her face was set in a mask of intense concentration. For the first time, he noticed that someone else had remained silent at her back. He had never seen him nor met but now wasn't the time to question his presence. He was here on his own violation; he could question her later.
"Follow my lead please. My aim is for us to survive the night, remember it," concluded Eragon.
With the back of his mind, he noticed that Saphira was taking the lead of her pack, making sure that no one of Daenerys' dragon would question her authority after a month of absence. She seemed satisfied by what she saw and felt.
"For now, fly close to Saphira and burn those under while they cross to reach the Wall. But make sure you don't touch the structure. I fear its collapse might happen rather sooner than later."
Opening his mind to the Eldunaris, Eragon asked them to receive some energy. No matter the enemy, he wasn't taking any chance with her three dragons. Noticing their approval, he quickly powered some wards around the three dragons and Daenerys. Yesterday, Eragon had been lucky enough to remain unscarred from the fights but he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if the worst were to happen because he had been hesitant to protect them.
After a few moments, the task was done. Daenerys probably thought he had been lost in thoughts and he wouldn't try to correct her for the time being. Receiving his mental nod, Saphira turned North. With a mighty roar, she flew in the direction of the dead who had grown in number, taking advantage of the absence of the dragon.
Three roars answered her call and hell broke free on Eastwatch by the Sea. In the middle of this sea of death and ice, four dragons were bringing destructions and fire. Four powerful jets of flames erupted from their jaws and charred the ground under them. Hundreds of wights were immediately burnt to crisp.
This was a sight to behold. Saphira, fully armoured, was surrounded by Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion and were methodically burning the ground, in straight lines, from one side of Eastwatch to the other. Blue, red, black and green jets of flames were licking the ground and erasing everything that stood on it. There was nothing the dead could do to avoid the blasts of flames. If they were to leave the forest, they were signing their death warrant.
Eragon thought he heard the soldiers cheering from their apparition but in the middle of the storm, it was difficult to judge. But the number of wights starting the long climb had drastically decreased.
After a few seconds, Saphira stopped and immediately took some altitude. Eragon was pleased to see the three dragons following close behind. He also noticed Daenerys' face, white like snow. She had witnessed for the first time the true reality of the Army of the Dead and was coming to reality with it.
But her fear was hidden behind a mask of concentration. It was too late, or too soon to freak out now. She'd have plenty of time once the battle was over but for now, they couldn't afford to lose their focus in the middle of the battle.
They saw another wave emerging from the forest, bigger than the previous ones. He nodded to Daenerys, who nodded back. Saphira waited a few more seconds, to let the wights reach the middle of the now burnt plain before diving, her jaw already open before they had even reached the correct altitude.
It was a slaughter and the dead stood no chance. Those who escaped Saphira's flames were picked up by Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion. But this new wave seemed to never stop, leaving the dragons unable to leave if they didn't want to let the man above be overwhelmed.
This didn't deter them and the dragons continued their deathly and pyrotechnic ballet, working in perfect synchronization. However, he noticed some movements on the forest and Eragon's eyes widened in realisation. The Night King had kept them busy enough to aim. He stood at the edges of the forest, with his arm in extension, ready to throw a javelin.
And this time, they wouldn't be able to strike him before. Too late, he saw the javelin leave his hand, in Saphira's direction before quickly moving to escape the arrows launched from top of the wall. None reached true.
But Eragon couldn't care less about this. His attention was turned on the frozen weapon thrown in their direction, closing the distance very quickly.
"Saphira, straighten up!" he screamed, from the top of his lungs and mind, knowing no magic would be able to help them in this situation.
She didn't question him and immediately went a few feet higher, bringing her legs close to her body. The deathly spear narrowly missed her belly.
But Viserion who stood a few paces behind Saphira never saw the javelin. The frozen weapon seemed to slow at the contact of Eragon's ward but they were quickly melted and the tip of the weapon lodged itself deeply into Viserion's chest.
Viserion's scream echoed in the middle of the plain and he immediately feel, unable to stabilise himself, before crashing in the middle of the field in a sickening crush. He was alive but was unable to get back in the air. His right wing was bent and his chest was wounded, the javelin still lodged deeply.
There was a moment of silence. He noticed Daenerys, frozen on Drogon's back, a mask of horror etched on her face. The three dragons had stopped moving, hovering above the white dragon. But seconds after, all the dead converged on Viserion, who stood helpless on the ground and in visible pain.
There wasn't a second to lose if they wanted to save him. Saphira immediately dived to get closer to Viserion and with a powerful burst of flames, removed the closest wights. But more were coming, no doubt following the Night King's order. Spiders, giants and even huge elephants were converging Viserion's way.
"We're coming Shadeslayer" indicated Maudria from the top of the Wall.
Indeed, moments later, a loud rumble came from the ancient Wall. Eragon understood that the heavy chain had been liberated and was falling to ground. Several dozen of wights fell, losing their balance or their grip on the ice. Seconds later, he could see small dots on top of the wall, starting to climb off with unnatural speed. The elves had decided to join the battle on the ground. He trusted them to reach them. They had crossed Alagaësia on Islanzadí's orders to protect him, he knew a wall and a snowy plain wouldn't stop them.
Saphira had also reached the ground with a loud thud, crushing a few wights, completely obliterated under her weight, followed soon by the rest of her pack. The four dragons were now in a vulnerable position, completely exposed but ready to protect each other quite effectively.
They stood close to each other, forming a small bastion, with Viserion held in between, his back turned towards the Wall.
Eragon quickly dismounted Saphira, reaching the ground before Daenerys had even stood from her position. He couldn't help but hear small cracking on the wall, with chunks of ice falling where the old anchor had been and he knew it would be one of the last times he saw the tall structure standing.
But there was no time to worry or to feel emotional. The dead were almost on them and now that the dragons were on the ground, the Night King would have no troubles hitting them and they wouldn't have any time to fuel new wards.
Eragon didn't lose a single minute, already slashing his first enemies while Saphira was spitting hell around them, creating an intense wall of fire around them. All of this was done before Saphira's wings were completely folded, a testimony to how pressed they were. As she slashed a few enemies with her paws, he felt very grateful for Maudria's decision to incorporate some dragonglass on Saphira's armor.
"Just in case" had been the elf's explanation.
A quick glance behind told him that Viserion's wound was deep but wouldn't be deadly in itself. However, the creamy dragon now stood helpless on the ground, and he had troubles properly moving or breathe fire. That was a promise of a painful death in the middle of a battlefield.
Eragon's arms were blurs in the night, stuck in an infinite loop of slashes, blocks and parries. He fought without any interruption, cutting through rows of enemy. There was no time to lose and he couldn't afford to forget about the Night King. But no matter how many enemies stood in front of him, none managed to get past him.
Drogon and Rhaegal were doing their part, protecting the other sides of Viserion, spitting flames to stop the march of the enemies. It was complicated and the dragons had less precision to kill the few enemies who managed to escape the inferno surrounding the group. Should one of those wights reach the dragons and climb on their back, it would be a nightmare to remove it, especially since both weren't protected by armor, just wards fuelled by Eragon and the Eldunaris not an hour ago. Thankfully, the elves had reached the small gathering of dragons and could help to remove the few enemies who managed to get past the dragon's flames.
Daenerys had also decided to step of Drogon and was close to Viserion, oblivious of the dangers around her. Tears stroked her face, as she suddenly understand how powerless she was in the current situation. She was gently stroking his neck, whispering a few words, not daring to raise her voice.
"Cover me, I've got to stop the Night King" whispered Eragon to Saphira, who sent him the equivalent of a mental nod. She shifted her position and Eragon stood beside her.
Knowing he could trust Saphira and the Eldunaris, he turned his attention towards the Night King, who had once more a weapon in his hand. This time, he stood confidently, without hiding, knowing he was the one with the upper hand.
Quickly, he fired three arrows in his direction. He didn't lose time to pour magic or to see whether they would hit true or not. This wasn't his purpose.
Immediately after, he launched a strong mental attack in the direction of the Night King. This was a possibility they had studied the day before and while dangerous, had been deemed acceptable in case of a major threat. This was the case here.
What he felt there was unlike anything he had ever experienced before, even against Galbatorix, Durza or even Valdr. Eragon was in the middle of an ocean of ice, knowing the enemy was everywhere, but unable to grasp a single presence. Each second, a new wave came crashing on him, with the strength of a thousand man and the coldness of the strongest blizzards.
But he couldn't afford to lose and in this ocean of ice, Eragon's presence was fire. His essence was tied to Saphira, he had made Brisingr. And so he burnt freely, openly, without resistance, without caring, pushing and destroying everything he could. Eragon was fire. And he felt, coming from the Night King, a push coming, a coldness creeping in his direction, a blizzard gathering strength to put off the flames.
This wasn't a battle where one was protecting his mind with strong barriers. This was an attack where the purpose was the destroy the other, to melt or to freeze to death.
Eragon's will was clashing, fighting but slowly, he could feel some progress, feeling the cold retreating. He could feel the mythical presence in front of him losing some ground, struggling to keep the storm. Each wave felt less powerful, less biting.
"Eragon, look out" warned Saphira with some urgency.
Forcing his energy, he sent a mental wave of heat in the direction of the Night King, managing to break the connection between them. It wasn't too soon because Eragon narrowly avoided the small dozens of spears sent his way and impaling the spot where he had stood not a second ago. With some surprise, he noticed that the snow had melted there, and a small circle of mud could be seen. Eragon's clothes were completely dry too, with smoke.
The battle that had happened had been more intense than what they expected and had reached unexplored domains of magic. But he couldn't let the scholar in him take control at the moment. The battle was still raging and the White Walkers had finally reached their position and had lost no time to aim Eragon who had been still, his whole attention turned on the Night King.
The latter had both knees on the ground, with both hands supporting him and panting heavily. For the first time, he looked truly weak, weakened from his efforts to tear the wards of the Wall and the energy he had to use to push all the arrows sent his way during the battle.
And while this had offered some respite, Eragon didn't have the luxury to relax. Their small line defence around Viserion was on the verge of collapsing and already, more than twenty wights had surged to protect the Night King from arrows. They had missed a small opening today and they would have to deal with the consequences later. Spiders and giants were on them, ready to crush them. Their size made it easy to be killed but their strength meant the had no room for failure.
Two elves were healing the dragon, under the fearful eye of Daenerys who stood powerless. They were softly singing, healing the dragon with the Ancient Language. These four stood in major contrast with the rest of the battle where only clashes of steel and cries could be heard.
The others elves had made a circle around them, with Saphira, Drogon and Rhaegal to support them. He was also surprised to see that both Jaime Lannister and Daenerys' passenger were present, slashing wights with great efficiency. And while the wights were mostly controlled, the real trouble came from the several White Walkers who had approached and who looked immune to fire. This meant they would have to be defeated by steel, A dozen were around them, determined to stop powerful gathering. Immediately, Eragon went in front on Saphira, who had little to no way to defend herself against these monsters.
The Night King was truly exhausted for the night and stood helpless, helping himself with one hand on a tree, watching his lieutenants trying to bring them down.
Eragon immediately went for the offensive. He was tired from this night, tired from yesterday's event and tired from fighting. Surprisingly, his hit was stopped with unnatural speed. But he wasn't deterred. He followed with another feint on his leg before stopping his movement and immediately slashing his opponent's right arm. This time, his sword struck true. The moment the metal touched the blue skin of the White Walker, it exploded in a million shards of ice, a mask of pain etched on his face.
Turning around, he saw that most friends had also managed to dispatch their opponents or were close to end it. He quickly caught the end of Jaime's fight. After a last parry with his Valyrian sword, he punched the White Walker with his golden hand. To the surprise of all, the lieutenant of the Army of the Dead exploded like all the others, in a boom of ice. On a closer look, he noticed that fragments of dragonglass had been melted on his prosthetic, creating a deathly and quite original weapon.
But a cry from Daenerys caught his attention. Jorah Mormont hadn't been as lucky and his opponent had managed to pierce through his armor, right into his heart. His opponent didn't live long enough to appreciate his victory, as two arrows impaled his chest, killing him on the spot. However, Jorah was dead before he reached the ground, his face forever stuck in a mask of surprise.
His mind was gone and there was nothing they could do for him now.
"The wound is stable now" screamed Blödhgarm, catching everyone's attention.
"We leave now! "replied Eragon, screaming to be heard by all the people above the wind.
Viserion didn't wait and gingerly tried to move his wings. The movements seemed to hurt him but he kept on, knowing this was his only way out. Eragon knew Saphira was guiding him, making sure the white dragon would wait for them on the other side of the Wall where he would rest more safely and where the elves and the Eldunaris would be able to properly gauge his wound.
They had to quickly leave this place. The remaining wights were converging in their direction and Eragon didn't fancy fighting thousands of them on foot.
"Take one of these fuckers, we need to convince Cersei," shouted Jaime Lannister
Maudria immediately went to collect one. In the meantime, he let the Lannister climb on Saphira, who was busy protecting Maudria's left side with flames. The elf trusted the blue dragon and didn't flinch from the close proximity of the flames. Saphira also took this moment to burn Jorah's body, offering him a quiet rest and removing the possibility for the Night King to resurrect him. The remaining elves split between the three dragons. Daenerys' dragons started to protest but a quick growl from Saphira was enough to stop their protests. The elves' natural grace allowed them to settle very quickly and they were quickly in a position that would allow them to take off without falling. Rhaegal was the first to depart, immediately followed by Drogon.
Only Saphira remained, ready to lift off the second the elf would come back.
Eragon waited for a few seconds, to let Maudria come back from his task. Both knew Eragon couldn't afford to be on the ground at this stage of the battle. Maudria knew the risks and he knew Eragon would always be Saphira's top priority. But the elf knew it would be their last opportunity to capture a wight and he had assessed the risks. And soon enough, Maudria was back, with a wight held firmly between his hand. He was using his strength to keep it from escaping, having no row at the moment to held him. From the looks of it, it had once been a wildling, in another lifetime.
But that wasn't their biggest concern. They were more concerned about the hundreds of wights converging their way and the spear of ice being brought to the Night King. The elves on Eragon's back helped Maudria to climb Saphira as he was unable to use his hands.
Without losing any more time, Saphira took off, leaving this no man's land. Eragon took a look under. The position where they had fought was easy to stop. A pile of deaths surrounded the small pit where they had stood for the past hours, fighting and burning all the enemies which had come to them. The ground around was completely scorched. Most of the snow had disappeared, replaced by a mix of earth, blood and ashes, This was the last touch of the dragons' masterpiece, which was now whole and finished.
They reached the top of the Wall effortlessly, avoiding without troubles the spear launched without much conviction by the Night King. They quickly spotted Viserion on the other side, who seemed to be panting heavily. This little flight had taken its toll on the dragon but the elves were already by his side, softly singing to help him. Knowing he was in good hands, Eragon went to Jon, who had also survived the night. After Viserion's fall, the wights had stopped climbing and had all tried to attack them. Now, they were back in the forest, waiting for their time.
He was grim and looked tired from the night of fighting.
"Saw you did some damage down there" started Jon.
"We did yes, but we lost Jorah Mormont" replied Eragon
Jon winced but didn't comment further, besides a small look in Daenerys's direction. She was a small point at such a distance but still, it was easy to see that all her attention was turned towards Viserion. The two kept doing some small talk about their loss and the actions but both were tired from the night.
"We lost a few here but less than yesterday thanks to your actions with Saphira and Daenerys. We might be able to hold for a few more days" resumed Jon
"No we won't Jon. You need to evacuate the Wall, all the Wall today. Tomorrow at the same hour, the Wall will be gone," finished Eragon darkly.
For the first time, a look of pure surprise crossed Jon's face
"And surrender a powerful stronghold? Waste the sacrifice of dozens if not hundreds of brothers?" he replied angrily
"This is not a waste and you know it. We killed thousands of those abominations in two days. Daenerys almost lost a dragon to defend the Wall! But the first thing the Night King will do tonight is to tear down the Wall. And there won't be anything you can do that will stop it!" erupted Eragon
He noticed that the young leader was listening to him with a frown, as if he was doubting Eragon's words.
"The Wall, as you've told me yourself, is magical. There's magic running in its ice, which keeps it from falling on itself for instance. But what we didn't know, is that part of its magic was there to keep the dead from crossing it. You may have noticed, but before each battle, the Night King blew in a small horn. We don't know what that is, but he managed to tear down most of the wards and defences protecting the Wall. Without this item, they wouldn't have been able to climb the Wall like they've done for the past two days"
Jon was completely enraptured with his tall.
"The rest is a wild guess, but blowing seems to take a lot out of him, which is way he only does it once per night. Then, he mostly observes the outcome of the battle. I don't think we've seen people rising from the dead in the past two days, like he did in Hardhome according to you. But tomorrow, the Wall will fall. Today already, we almost lost it. Tomorrow will be the last blow. Take the men, leave as soon as possible, because the dead are coming" whispered Eragon
"We can't leave the Wall, it's our only defences" retorted Jon
"For fuck's sake, climb on Saphira Jon" exclaimed Eragon, finally reaching the end of its patience after two nights of fights.
Surprised by his outburst, Jon obediently followed his instructions without complain.
"Bring us to the basement of the Wall please Saphira" asked Eragon through their bond
"He will see reason, don't worry" said the Dragon, sensing the irritation coming from her Rider.
Around, the men started to whisper, seeing their leader climb on Saphira before going on the other side of the Wall. During this shirt period, they would be quite vulnerable. But they knew the Night King was quite weak at this point, and the last javelin he had sent had been a mere shadow of what they had already seen. But the purpose of this mission wasn't to go and kill the Night King.
Eragon was hoping to make Jon see reason and for this, the Northerner would need to see.
Moments later, Jon gasped and understood the gravity of the situation. The foundations of the Wall were on the verge of collapsing, with huge cracks and blocks of ice already on the ground. Nobody had really paid a lot of attention on it in the middle of the battle but now it was impossible to miss.
They didn't stay long, not eager to remain in the open like that. But the message had been passed. Without another word, Saphira flew back to the top of the Wall where Jon wordlessly stepped off from her and then immediately took the direction of the lift to meet with the soldiers. Eragon knew his task had been completed with Jon and now he had to deal with the others who were waiting for him below.
The mood down was just as grim. Daenerys' face was white and tears rolled down her face. The elves
were slowly singing in Ancient Language to heal Viserion. He was finally able to have a good look at the wound and it looked serious. The weapon had been removed but the wound was deep and still pained a lot Viserion. Some sort of frostbite had spread around his chest and there was a hole in his wing.
The spear had pierced through its wing before finishing its path in Viserion's chest, which required dexterity to knit all the tissues together. Whatever they had done during the battle certainly hadn't been enough and had probably been more harmful in the long run but had been needed to get Viserion out of this alive.
As soon as he stepped off from Saphira, Daenerys rushed on him
"Will they be able to save him?" enquired Daenerys immediately, worry plain to see on her face.
"I don't know. But they're the best so we have to trust them" assured Eragon
And they waited, listening to the voice of the elves. The Eldunaris were helping them, offering advice and energy to heal Viserion. This time, there wasn't a single hesitation from Daenerys as she heard the men and women around her sing in Ancient Language. Perhaps it was because this time, there was no other choice. She knew no one else besides the Alagaësian had the skills to heal her dragon and to save him. The wound was magical, just like Eragon's old scar in his back and only the combined efforts of the elves and the Eldunaris was stopping the frostbite from spreading. They could see the muscles from his wing and chest slowly mend back, the holes being closed at a very gentle pace.
In the meantime, they saw movements coming from the Wall. The men were starting to leave the old fortress. Most had confused looks or were shouting angrily but they were nonetheless following the orders; Jon had spread the word and the evacuation had started. They just had to hope to be faster than the dead. But none of the soldiers dared to come in their direction.
Hours flew and the number of people leaving the Wall grew. At some point, Jon came to see if everything was alright but neither had much time to lose. He left quickly after, joined by Jaime Lannister who had seemed rather lost during the entire time he had stood next to the dragons. Time was against them. Time was against Westeros, Winterfell and the Wall.
This is the end of the chapter! I hope you've enjoyed it! Please, don't hesitate to comment, review, fav, this gives me a lot of motivation to keep this story (I won't stop it, the end is almost completely written now)