Luminescent (Inheritance Cycle and Beyond)

Chapter Fifty-Seven: Brilliant

Letting out a frustrated growl, I swiped at Murtagh's shoulder. My dagger slid through the material that peaked out from underneath the metal, shredding the fibers. I dodged Murtagh's retaliation, narrowly missing the blade aimed at my arm.

"Stop playing with each other!" My father said he was growing impatient. Murtagh and I both looked at him. So, he finally realized that both of us were half-heartedly fighting each other.

Fine. I'll fight.

Faster than previously, I flicked Islingr at Murtagh's face, drawing a thin red line on his face before spinning away as he retaliated with an arching slice to my abdomen. Murtagh blinked as a thin trail of blood ran down from the cut I made.

Murtagh narrowed his eyes at me before lunging forward with Zar'roc stretched ahead. I twisted Islingr up at an angle, blocking the incoming slice. My feet slid back a little at the force from the blow.

Using my dagger, I combined it with my sword to shove Zar' roc away from my chest. Feinting to the left, I twisted my sword arm to my right hip and drug Islingr up across Murtagh's chest plate at an angle.

My blade cut into the metal, leaving a thin groove. I had applied light pressure so it would not cut all the way through, but I wanted my father and Murtagh to think I was serious. Murtagh looked down at the scratches on his chest plate.

"So, you are capable of fighting back," He mused before feinting to my right, I jumped out of the way of Zar' roc but found the blade slicing across the delicate skin of my upper left arm.

Hissing, I drew back as beads of blood gathered around the small cut on my upper arm. I could feel the warm liquid slowly slide down my arm onto the white sleeve that went underneath my arm braces.

I switched tactics, this time aiming for his wrist, to make him drop Zar' roc. Unfortunately, neither of us seemed to get anywhere after we had made our first initial cuts. Reluctance to cause more injury, we both danced around each other taking turns to swing our blades.

It was when Murtagh and I had our Rider's swords in a lock. My arms started to tremble from the sheer amount of force we both exerted. I should not be getting tired, but for some unknown reason, I was. Zar' roc slid down my blade before slicing into the material of my hood. With a hiss from our blades, they finally separated, sending both of us staggering back.

The material of cloak, now sliced through, fell from my head, releasing my long black braid. My blue eyes studied Murtagh as shock registered on his face. Behind us, my father started to laugh a deep bellied laugh.

Out of all his reactions, it was amusement.

"I should have known!" My father chortled as he slapped his palm against the armrest of his throne. "drop that scarf, you needn't hide anymore, Khensamel."

My eyes stayed locked with Murtagh's as I revered my dagger and slid it back into its sheath on my leg. Reaching up to my face, I shook my nose and mouth free of the scarf as I dragged it down to my neck.

Tearing my eyes from Murtagh's shocked grey ones, I looked at my giggling father with a blank expression as my fingers adjusted my grip on Islingr.

"Ah, I should have looked further into your words," My father sighed before shaking his head. "come here."

"And why should I?" I asked with a cold voice.

"I could always make you come here." My father said, narrowing his eyes at me. Growling, I sheathed Islingr and reluctantly stalked towards him. Alethea let out a growl of her own and darted over to stand behind me.

My father looked at me with new interest before his eyes widen and he smiled triumphantly.

"Even defiant, you still manage to fall into my plans." My father purred with glee before he raised a hand. The last thing I saw and heard was dark, glittering eyes and the sound of Alethea letting out a roar.

Eragon watched as Mal's legs seemed to fold on themselves before her entire body hit the stone floor. Alethea let out a screech and dove towards her Rider, curling her body around Mal's prone figure.

What did you do!?!" Eragon demanded as Murtagh finally got himself out of his shock and took a step towards the downed Mal. Galbatorix flickered his eyes on Eragon.

"I merely ensured that my daughter wouldn't do anything that might cause injury to herself. Now then, Letta," Galbatorix said with a slight motion of his hand. Eragon staggered as the spell holding him vanished. "Gánga aptr,"

Arya, Elva, Saphira slid backward, leaving a wide space between them and the dais. Alethea remained wrapped around her downed Rider, occasionally letting out soft growls at Galbatorix. Galbatorix muttered a few other words, and most of the lanterns in the chamber dimmed so that the area in front of the throne was the brightest spot in the room.

"Come now," Galbatorix said to Murtagh. "Join Eragon, and let us see which of you is the more skilled."

Murtagh narrowed his eyes at Galbatorix before briefly glancing at Mal. Galbatorix waved a hand.

"She is fine, more than fine actually. She only sleeps." Galbatorix said, his words not easing the feeling that something was going on between the King and his daughter. Murtagh moved to stand in front of Eragon as the two got ready to duel. "Now fight!"