Disclaimer: I do not own The Inheritance Cycle. I only own the OC Michael Draven/Ancalagon.

The Shade carried his pale blade marked with the scratch from Ajihad. A black roundshield with a crimson ensign rested on his arm. His dark helmet was richly decorated, like a general's, and a long snakeskin cloak billowed around him. Madness burned in his maroon eyes, the madness of one who enjoys power and finds himself in the position to use it.

Eragon knew he was neither fast enough nor strong enough to escape the fiend before him. He immediately warned Saphira, though he knew it was impossible for her to rescue him. He dropped into a crouch and quickly reviewed what Brom had told him about fighting another magic user. It was not encouraging. And Ajihad had said that Shades could only be destroyed by a thrust through the heart.

Durza gazed at him contemptuously and said, "Kaz jtierl trazhid! Otrag bagh." The Urgals eyed Eragon suspiciously and formed a circle around the perimeter of the room. Durza slowly approached Eragon with a triumphant expression. "So, my young Rider, we meet again. You were foolish to escape from me in Gil'ead. It will only make things worse for you in the end."

"You'll never capture me alive," growled Eragon.

"Is that so?" asked the Shade, raising an eyebrow. The light from the star sapphire gave his skin a ghastly tint. "I don't see your friends around to help you, nor that silver beast that destroyed Gil'ead. You can't stop me now. No one can!"

Eragon couldn't help but smirk. "How's your home after Ancalagon destroyed it?"

Durza's face tightened momentarily. "I will be repaid in blood for that. That dragon will either bow to me or be destroyed. Now tell me where your dragon is hiding."

"Never."

The Shade's countenance darkened. "Then I will force it from you!" His sword whistled through the air. The moment Eragon caught the blade on his shield, a mental probe spiked deep into his thoughts. Fighting to protect his consciousness, he shoved Durza back and attacked with his own mind.

Eragon battered with all his strength against the iron-hard defenses surrounding Durza's mind, but to no avail. He swung Zar'roc, trying to catch Durza off guard. The Shade knocked the blow aside effortlessly, then stabbed in return with lightning speed.

The point of the sword caught Eragon in the ribs, piercing his mail and driving out his breath. The mail slipped, though, and the blade missed his side by the width of a wire. The distraction was all Durza needed to break into Eragon's mind and begin taking control.

"No!" cried Eragon, throwing himself at the Shade. His face contorted as he grappled with Durza, yanking on his sword arm. Durza tried to cut Eragon's hand, but it was protected by the mail-backed glove, which sent the blade glancing downward. As Eragon kicked his leg, Durza snarled and swept his black shield around, knocking him to the floor. Eragon tasted blood in his mouth; his neck throbbed. Ignoring his injuries, he rolled over and hurled his shield at Durza. Despite the Shade's superior speed, the heavy shield clipped him on the hip. As Durza stumbled, Eragon caught him on the upper arm with Zar'roc. A line of blood traced down the Shade's arm.

Suddenly, a roar was heard before Ancalagon arrived, tail smacking Durza aside and quickly dispatching the Urgals before standing over Eragon protectiveky while glaring darkly at Durza who was getting back to his feet.

"Ah, there you are." The Shade grinned maliciously. "You shall pay for destroying my fortress, beast."

Ancalagon just growled, his claws digging into the ground. His mind was strong and defended, but Durza won't allow that to stop him from trying to break in and dominate his mind. the silver dragon unleashed a torrent of flame from his mouth, causing Durza to throw up a magic shield to take the brunt of it but Ancalagon was quick to rush at the Shade who dissolved into shadow and reappeared elsewhere.

"Pathetic." Durza sneered, then turned and blocked Eragon's sword strike. "Two against one, eh?" he reappeared somewhere where he could have both Ancalagon and Eragon in his line of sight. "Very well then."

Eragon, determined, struck first with Durza blocking his attacks. Ancalagon stayed to the sidelines, looking for an opening, but Durza would send blasts of magic at him, some of which struck the silver dragon who roared in pain.

"Enough of this!" Durza shouted and dissolved into shadows, reappearing away from his adversaries. he then began chanting in an unknown tongue, and both Ancalagon and Eragon watched as a dark, smoke-like figure took shape... like a dragon.

You've gotta be kidding me. Ancalagon thought to himself as he saw Durza had just summoned the dark creature that he did in the movie.

"What is that thing?!" Eragon asked as the thing swooped over them while Durza laughed evilly.

Dark magic. Ancalagon said, then his eyes narrowed. Focus on Durza, Eragon... this one's mine.

With that, he took to the air and met the dark creature in the air, both of them colliding. this thing, made from dark magic, was not a dragon. It had big teeth, but it didn't have claws, a tail, or even the ability to breath fire.

So Ancalagon unleashed his fore onto it, earning an shriek that sounded out of this world, nothing like an animal would sound, but the fire didn't do too much damage as the creature came right through it and barrelled into him. Ancalagon clawed at the creature as best as he could through its dark, wisp-like body that seemed made from smoke, his teeth sank into any area that felt like flesh and bone.

As the two tumbled in the air, Ancalagon unleashed his fire on the creature once more but it took the hit, and latched it's huge teeth into his neck, causing the silver dragon to let out a bellow of pain that echoed.

Down below, Eragon looked up after blocking a strike from Durza, and his eyes widened. "ANCALAGON!"

ANCALAGON! Saphira screamed, seeing the fight from where she was in the dragonhold.

Durza grinned darkly. "HEAR HIM SCREAM!"

Ancalagon gritted his teeth and smashed his tail into the dark beast's head as best as he could, clawing harshly and violently until it eventually released him. Ancalagon tumbled through the air but righted himself as he flew with the creature on his trail. He shook his head, the pain in his neck all too obvious along with the steady rise in blood loss. But he needed to figure out a way to destroy this thing for good.

He turned, roaring a challenge while flying straight for the dark creature who met him head-on. Inhaling, Ancalagon shouted. "FO KRAH DIIN!"

The frost exploded from Ancalagon's mouth and struck the dark creature, freezing it as Ancalagon kept up the beam of frost and ice until he was sure the creature was fully frozen. He then barrelled into it and destroyed it into many pieces.

Eragon and Durza stopped their fight to look up and Eragon grinned when seeing Ancalagon had won, but his eyes widened as he watched Ancalagon's movements go slower and weaker before he dropped out of the air.

"No!" he shouted while Durza chuckled. Angered, Eragon thrust at the Shade with his mind and drove through Durza's weakened defenses. A flood of images suddenly engulfed him, rushing through his consciousness—

Durza as a young boy living as a nomad with his parents on the empty plains. The tribe abandoned them and called his father "oathbreaker." Only it was not Durza then, but Carsaib—the name his mother crooned while combing his hair. . . .

The Shade reeled wildly, face twisted in pain. Eragon tried to control the torrent of memories, but the force of them was overwhelming.

Standing on a hill over the graves of his parents, weeping that the men had not killed him as well. Then turning and stumbling blindly away, into the desert. . . .

Durza faced Eragon. Terrible hatred flowed from his maroon eyes. Eragon was on one knee—almost standing—struggling to seal his mind.

How the old man looked when he first saw Carsaib lying near death on a sand dune. The days it had taken Carsaib to recover and the fear he felt upon discovering that his rescuer was a sorcerer. How he had pleaded to be taught the control of spirits. How Haeg had finally agreed. Called him "Desert Rat.". . .

Eragon was standing now. Durza charged . . . sword raised . . . shield ignored in his fury.

The days spent training under the scorching sun, always alert for the lizards they caught for food. How his power slowly grew, giving him pride and confidence. The weeks spent nursing his sick master after a failed spell. His joy when Haeg recovered . . .

There was not enough time to react... not enough time...

The bandits who attacked during the night, killing Haeg. The rage Carsaib had felt and the spirits he had summoned for vengeance. But the spirits were stronger than he expected. They turned on him, possessing mind and body. He had screamed. He was—I AM DURZA!

The sword smote heavily across Eragon's back, cutting through both mail and skin. He screamed as pain blasted through him, forcing him to his knees. Agony bowed his body in half and obliterated all thought. He swayed, barely conscious, hot blood running down the small of his back. Durza said something he could not hear.

In anguish, Eragon raised his eyes to the heavens, tears streaming down his cheeks. Everything had failed. The Varden and dwarves were destroyed. He was defeated. Saphira would give herself up for his sake—she had done it before—and Arya would be recaptured or killed. Ancalagon was defeated, probably dead, Why had it ended like this? What justice could this be? All was for nothing.

As he looked at Isidar Mithrim far above his tortured frame, a flash of light erupted in his eyes, blinding him. A second later, the chamber rang with a deafening report. Then his eyes cleared, and he gaped with disbelief.

The star sapphire had shattered. An expanding torus of huge dagger-like pieces plummeted toward the distant floor—the shimmering shards near the walls. In the center of the chamber, hurtling downward headfirst, was Saphira. Her jaws were open and from between them erupted a great tongue of flame, bright yellow and tinged with blue. On her back was Arya: hair billowing wildly, arm uplifted, palm glowing with a nimbus of green magic.

Time seemed to slow as Eragon saw Durza tilt his head toward the ceiling. First shock, then anger contorted the Shade's face. Sneering defiantly, he raised his hand and pointed at Saphira, a word forming on his lips.

A hidden reserve of strength suddenly welled up inside Eragon, dredged from the deepest part of his being. His fingers curled around the hilt of his sword. He plunged through the barrier in his mind and took hold of the magic. All his pain and rage focused on one word:

"Brisingr!"

Zar'roc blazed with bloody light, heatless flames running along it . . .

He lunged forward...

And stabbed Durza in the heart.

Durza looked down with shock at the blade protruding from his breast. His mouth was open, but instead of words, an unearthly howl burst from him. His sword dropped from nerveless fingers. He grasped Zar'roc as if to pull it out, but it was lodged firmly in him.

Then Durza's skin turned transparent. Under it was neither flesh nor bone, but swirling patterns of darkness. He shrieked even louder as the darkness pulsated, splitting his skin. With one last cry, Durza was rent from head to toe, releasing the darkness, which separated into three entities who flew through Tronjheim's walls and out of Farthen Dûr. The Shade was gone.

Bereft of strength, Eragon fell back with arms outstretched. Above him, Saphira and Arya had nearly reached the floor—it looked as if they were going to smash into it with the deadly remains of Isidar Mithrim. As his sight faded, Saphira, Arya, the myriad fragments—all seemed to stop falling and hang motionless in the air.

And that's it for this chapter. Yeah, I just HAD to have that creature from the Eragon movie brought in for Ancalagon to fight.