Andlátkyn; Vandr Sanses unin Alagaësia

Battle of the Ages

The gods and deities all blinked in confusion at Classic, who had started walking towards the city. It was still two miles away, yet he did not move any faster than a relaxed stride. Every breath was a visible blue cloud, no longer a constant stream.

TK soon perked up, tears in his sockets as he glanced back at what had been a rift to the Multiverse- a place that had simply ceased to be just minutes ago. Gone. Their home was gone.
Fate was also gone.
Balance was gone.
Yet Time and Destiny remained.

SoulAbyss soon backed away and to the side, footsteps thundering as they got out of Classic's way, growing nervous.
"What will you do?" Evolution asked.
TK jogged to catch up with Classic as he replied in a quiet voice.
"What we have to."

"Are you sure?" TK asked, knowing how loathe to act the other could be.
Classic regarded him with now permanently bluish eyelights.
"You heard what she said could happen. I've made my choice. Will you?"

TK slowed then, falling behind as Classic forged ahead, leaving the child to his thoughts.
After a moment, he seemed to reach a decision, eyelights flashing violet before he teleported to the original's side.
"I've chosen. Let's fix up our new home."

Classic nodded at that, and, ignoring the giants watching, squinted at the crumbling wall of Urû-baen. A pulse of cerulean rippled out from him across the ground in a shockwave, and with a clattering rumble, the vast 300 foot wall abruptly disassembled itself into massive chunks of stone that hovered with a glowing blue nimbus. The enormous gate floated free, the men that had been on the wall were adrift in the air as if gravity had ceased to exist.

The gods stared at the display of power, and the fighting within the city quickly fell silent.
The unsettling quiet would not last long, but for now, only the rumbling of Destruction sifting deeper into the citadel and the echoes of the battle remained.

And Classic continued to walk.

. • ° ° • .

Eragon and Murtagh circled one another, each sizing up the other. Both wore the same sort of armor, though Eragon's shield was wider and shorter than Murtagh's. Alternatively, Murtagh had a shorter and wider blade than Eragon. They neared each other, and by listening through the boy's mind Blue could hear them whispering to each other.

"What are you doing?" Demanded Murtagh.
"Buying time." Eragon replied lowly.
"You're a fool. He'll watch us cut each other to shreds, and what will it change? Nothing."
Eragon twitched his sword arm, startling a flinch out of the elder Rider.

"Blast you." Murtagh cursed. "If you had waited just one more day, I could have freed Nasuada."
Bewildered, Eragon questioned. "Why should I believe you?"
Furious, Murtagh moved faster, forcing Eragon to match his speed. Speaking louder, he asked.
"So, you finally found a proper sword for yourself. The elves made it for you, didn't they?"
"You know they d-" Murtagh lunged with a swing, forcing Eragon to scramble away with a parry before swinging Brisingr over his head.

Murtagh ducked out of the way and they both eyed each other. When neither attacked, the circling resumed.
Blue was worried. He hadn't known as much of Murtagh as he would have liked, but he had known that the human was full of hate over the circumstances that he could not control. Wyrda had forced him into a role he despised, made him just like his father- and it disgusted him.
Blue couldn't help but feel regret that he could not save Murtagh from his fate.

He watched as Eragon knocked aside a swing at his neck and struck Murtagh's wrist over the gauntlet, opening up his chest for attack- though Murtagh already had his shield blocking the attempted stab.