Alright here they are! The final entries for DragonInk 2! Please enjoy these wonderful entries and, since this is the final round, we are going to have you place your votes in the comments below since we are not giving out ratings! You vote for a contestant by commenting their character name :) also, remember that you can vote for yourself and you can only vote for one contestant! Good luck to both of you, and here are the entries.
Logan (Pennator):
"He hasn't slept, barely eaten, barely moved, hasn't spoken... in a week!" Aelia cried in exasperation, "He's distraught. His minds so broken none of us can read it. All we catch is images. Random images. They don't even make sense. Just flashes of colour. Pain. Other...things."
"What other things?"
"Well... from what we have seen. What we can make out anyway. It seems as if... as if... Sashi attacked him," She looked at the dwarf sitting in front of her, "Why would she do that? Why would she break her bond with him? They were as close as dragon and rider could get. They were always with each other. They cared for each other. Tell me Torik. Why would she do that?"
Torik sighed, looking down at the mug in his hand. He could think of many reasons. None seemed likely however. The dwarven ale he had in his hand seemed more appetising then usual. It had happened again. First with Eragon, the original Eragon, and now with Logan. Two wild riders who had their dragons turn against them. Eragon's dragon had a reason however, Sashi didn't. He knew the two of them loved each other more then life itself, so what would make the golden dragoness change her mind.
The gold ale in his mug swirled softly in his mug, catching the light, begging him to take a sip. So he did, lifting the cup to his mouth and taking a long draught. In all his long years never had he felt so devastated as he had now. Something was wrong. He could feel it. It was in the very air around him. A sense of dread. A sense of evil. It was as if the very earth was terrified. Birds didn't singe. Wolves didn't hunt. Horses spooked at the most silent of noises. They could sense something was wrong, why couldn't anyone else?
"Let me speak to him," he said to the young elf.
Aelia nodded, "Good luck."
Torik smiled kindly at her. She was overly worried for the prince, and rightfully so, but she had done enough. She had looked after him from the moment he had arrived back at the dragon academy. She had watched him, or the shell that was left of him, suffer worse then any rider could have done before. She had brought his broken sword back to the castle and told them what she could. She needed her rest.
The dwarf sighed as he walked into Logan's room. The prince was sitting on the bed, staring at his hands. The golden Gedwey Ignasia on one side shined in the low light that lit up the room. A desolate nest with a silver egg sat at one side of the room, glistering loneliness throughout the room. It was a sorry sight.
He pulled up a chair and sat in front of the rider. Logan didn't even acknowledge the old dwarf. He kept staring at his hands, the scene that happened replaying in his head over and over and over again. The moment that had killed him. The moment his dragon had turned.
Kuldr shattered as he struck at the shade's wards, throwing him backwards onto the stones. Kazra didn't even flinch as he laughed out his victory, collaborating with the scream of a dying dragon. He could feel her dying. He could feel as her consciousness was warped and shattered, over and over. She had fought back, tyring to stop the overwhelming spirits that rushed through her, but it was all to late.
'Meet your end, wild rider,' Kazra laughed, pointing a gnarled finger at the broken prince.
Sashi's body was glowing of hot coals. A light so piecing it outweighed the sun. It spread over the castle, lighting up the mountains around them and frightening away anything within a hundred miles. But that wasn't all. A large conscious was reaching out. Different the Sashi's, but the same. It overwhelmed Logan, tearing apart his own mind as he watched his dragon fall.
And then it was over. The light faded. The screaming stopped. Kazra's laughter faded into the distance. The golden form of Sashi lay, still, on the stone castle. Yet there was something different about her. Her scales weren't gleaming like the sun. They were... molten, like lava. Heat radiated from them making the top of the tower uncomfortably hot.
Logan began to stumble towards his dragon, murmuring her name over and over again. Trying to wake her up. He fell at her side, draping himself over her neck, sobbing. Begging her to wake up. Begging her to be alive. And then she had moved. He had jumped with joy, feeling happier then he ever had. But her eyes had opened. The glowing red orbs bored into his head, and he had screamed. That same large conscious ripped through his skull, throwing him backwards, followed by a name that would forever haunt him.
'WE ARE SERAPHINA!"
A tear slid from his eye. Seraphina. The shade dragon. The most destructive force on the planet. And it had come for his dragon. His Sashi. The only bright light in his world was gone forever, turned into the most feared force on the planet. Even Galbatorix would tremble at the mention of such a thing. The shade dragon. It scared him. Terrified him. Nothing was safe. The world would be destroyed, all because of his failure. His hands clenched.
"Logan, wake up," said Torik, looking into the rider's eyes.
Logan completely ignored him, choosing instead to stare into the distance at some forgotten place. Ever since he had arrived back at the castle everything had been in some sought of haze. He didn't here voices. He didn't notice time. He didn't see, or at least not clearly. It was as if the world had broken in front of him, and he welcomed it. This wasn't reality. It wasn't a reality where loved ones died and became something else. It was a comforting space, where no one could bother you, or talk. It was like meditation, but so much better.
"Logan, she is not dead," Torik said slowly and deliberately.
The prince blinked, the words resonating into his consciousness. She is not dead. Could it be true? No, he had seen her die in front of his eyes. That golden demon was not Sashi, not anymore. It was the very essence of evil. A monster that could and would destroy the world.
"You fool! She is not dead!" Torik cried, backhanding Logan across the face.
The prince went sprawling onto the bed and lay there for a moment. His vision cleared, drawing reality back into focus. The pain on his cheek stung from where he had been hit, and the pain worked to wake him up. He slowly sat up again, glaring at the dwarf.
"Are you awake yet?" Torik said, "Can't you see? She. Is. Not. Dead."
Logan let out a cry of rage, launching himself at the dwarf, punching him in the face. The chair fell back with Torik on it, and he rolled with it, getting back to his feet. The prince ran at the dwarf again, tears streaming in his eye. Torik simply stepped to the side and with the same movement stuck out his foot. Logan tripped, falling on his stomach with a grunt. He rolled over only to have the dwarf pin him to the floor, trapping his hands to the hard ground.
"She's not dead Logan. Sashi is not dead!" the dwarf yelled at him.
"You don't know! You didn't see. You didn't feel it as her consciousness was ripped apart," cried Logan, "You don't know."
"I do know Logan. If she was dead, heck, if she had broken her bond with you, your Gedwey Ignasia wouldn't be golden. It would loose its colour," said Torik, "Unless you have some other wild dragon that has chosen you as its rider then she is still alive and you are still her rider."
"How would you know?" scoffed the prince.
"I was a wild rider! Remember! I had a dragon. My hand used to have the same golden glow," Torik growled, "When my dragon died that glow disappeared, and the same happened to Kazra. If Sashi were gone, your hand wouldn't be gold."
"She's a shade!" Logan cried, "How do you explain that, Torik. How do you explain how she is still my dragon. Sashi is no more. Kazra turned her into a shade."
The dwarf went silent, staring at the rider in disbelief. They were both breathing heavily after their scuffle. Torik slowly let Logan free and stood up. He finally understood, at least partly. Though he didn't believe it. A dragon shade was something that the world silently feared.
"Are you sure?" he said.
"Of course I am," Logan scoffed, getting himself off the floor, "I saw it happen. I felt it happen. I watched as Sashi became Seraphina the shade dragon."
"Then why is your hand still golden?" said Torik.
"I don't know! All I know is that Sashi is gone! She's... she's gone," Tears fell from the broken rider's eyes.
Torik narrowed his eyes, his mind going through all the possibilities. If Logan's hand was still golden then there might be hope left after all. A dragon had never turned shade before. Never. So there may be something different with 'Seraphina' then the average shade. For example a normal dragon had an Eldanuri. What happened to an Eldanuri when a dragon became a shade? His eyes widened as it all suddenly became clear. Sashi wasn't dead because she had retreated to her Eldanuri. It was the only explanation. The heart of hearts was basically a back up mind that a dragon could choose to use.
"Logan. Get your shadebane sword. Now," said Torik, "Sashi is not dead."
There was something in the change of Torik that made Logan hesitate. He looked at the dwarf, feeling confused.
"What do you mean?"
"There is a chance that... well... Sashi may have retreated to her Eldanuri. There is a chance that we can get her back," said Torik staring Logan directly in the eye.
"How do you know that?"
"Don't question me prince. It is the only explanation that makes sense," Torik said, "Now grab your sword. We are going to need it."
The wild rider blinked to clear his eyes and went to do as he was told, picking up the sword from where it was leaning against the door. It was impossible, what the dwarf said. Wasn't it? Sashi, retreating to her heart of hearts, hiding from the onslaught of spirits that had assaulted her body. But the more he thought about it the more hopeful he became. He could rescue her. He could save her. He gripped the pommel of the shadebane sword tightly, trembling. Was it possible?
The dwarf led him outside as he played with his thoughts. Aelia joined them, looking at Logan in surprise. She cast a questioning glance to Torik but the dwarf just smiled sadly. She looked at Logan to find him staring ahead with a newfound spark in his eye. Something had happened in that room that she wanted to find out. The sword in Logan's hand made her a little wary though. The rider seemed angry as well.
The three of them walked hurriedly through the academy, dodging past elves and other riders who were looking at them with strange expressions. There were dwarven riders around but to see such an old dwarf was a rare occurrence. And most knew who Logan was and the general story of what had happened. They were surprised to see him about, and in such high hopes. A few began to follow them, wondering what was going on.
They continued through the academy until they reached the room where Eragon held his meetings with other riders. Torik happened to know there was one being held at the moment. As they reached the doors that lead into the room they stopped, hearing voices inside.
"The dragon wasn't just killed, it was ripped to pieces," said the unmistakable voice of Eragon.
"Ripped to pieces?" said another voice, this time Murtagh who had taken up residence at the academy, "A dragon? What about the rider?"
"Dead. The only thing left was a charred hand," said another voice Logan didn't recognise, "There was golden fire surrounding the sight as well. A strange type though."
Dread fell onto the prince's shoulders. Golden fire. A dead dragon. There was one thing that would have been able to do that. One creature evil and powerful enough to rip a dragon apart. With his heart beating fast in his chest he slowly opened the door, the hinges creaking slightly as he did. Eragon was sitting at his table with riders and some elder elves sitting with him. They all looked up in surprise as the wild rider walked into the room, flanked by Torik and Aelia.
"Logan?" said Eragon incredulously.
"I know what happened to that rider and dragon," Logan said, his heart in his throat.
"What?"
"I know what happened."
Saphira, Thorn and a few other dragons were in the room with them. The large blue dragoness snorted slightly. She wouldn't have believed that a dragon could be ripped apart unless she had seen it with her own eyes. The horror of the crime scene had shocked her immensely.
'Then tell us prince,' she said so everyone could here.
"It was.... It was Sashi, or what used to be her," Logan gulped.
"What do you mean Logan?" Murtagh this time.
He raised his head and looked Murtagh in the eyes, before sighing. Slowly he began to recount the story of what had happened a weak ago. Of the horrors that he had witnessed. He stumbled through his capture and when Sashi had been drugged, and felt himself unable to go on as he reached the end of the story. With a sob he forced the words out. These people needed to know what had happened and what can be done to stop it.
Silence was met with his explanation. The riders in the room glanced around at each other. It was a nearly impossible story. The fear that something like this could happen was greater then any fear the riders had for anything gone past. A dragon shade could very well mean the end of the world.
"But its not hopeless," said Torik, speaking up, "We have reason to believe that the dragon known as Sashi is still alive, although trapped within a shade's body. We believe that... that she had retreated into her Eldanuri in an attempt to preserve her life."
"And your sure of this?" Eragon said, directing the question to both Logan and the dwarf.
"Yes," answered Logan, gripping his sword tightly in his hand and speaking in the ancient language.
"Then we haven't a moment to waste. Blodhrgam, prepare all the able-bodied riders and get them ready to battle. We are going to need everyone we can," Eragon ordered the elf, "The rest of you get prepared. Logan, do you think you can find her?"
Logan nodded and took a deep breath, "When we find her let me face her."
"Are you sure you will be able to do that?" asked Eragon.
"Yes. Sashi would want me to. Besides..." Logan hesitated, not wanting to offend the riders around him, "I'm the only one who will stand a chance against them."
One of the riders scoffed, "And what makes you say that?"
"My sword. When I get near shades it gives me power enough to defeat them, increasing my strength, speed, skill and magical ability," Logan looked at Eragon as he spoke, "If I get near Seraphina then my power will increase dramatically to match, or even trump the dragon's."
"He speaks the truth," said Eragon, "I've seen it, though this is the first time I've heard an explanation. After this is over I would like to study your sword."
Logan let out a small grin, his first smile in a long time, "We have to get through this fist."
He turned and walked out of the room, ready for battle. He had a feeling that there was going much more then just Kazra and Seraphina to fight. He thought back to the molten gold dragon that had been his not so long ago, and his anger rose. He was going to free Sashi, or kill Seraphina.
* * *
The landscape below went by in a blur. Mountains and valleys, forests and plains. It all looked the same. The thunder of dragons created a storm of wind in the sky above and the sound carried for miles. They blocked out the sun with their numbers, nearly three hundred dragons and riders all flying towards the same destination, different colours creating a rainbow in the sky. Metallic armour glinted in the sun. It was one of the biggest gatherings of dragon riders in the history of the world.
Logan and the dragon he was riding took the front. The dragon was a dark blue, nearly black colour and was slightly bigger then Sashi. His name was Ridaror, the wild dragon that had fathered Sashi's egg. It had been the first time that the two had formerly met, and in silent agreement the dragon had chosen to help Logan rescue Sashi. He was one of the few wild dragons that had joined them. The others were spread around the ranks carrying the elves that had wanted to join the fight. He hoped such a force wouldn't be necessary. To defeat one shade and one dragon hopefully all it would take was the shadebane sword, but Logan had a suspicion, one that he shared with Eragon, that there would be more then just those two.
In the week after Sashi had been turned the shades that had become so popular around the region had all disappeared. It was sudden and swift and no other shade had been seen since then. While they could have all been either killed or just fled it was unlikely. There was a high chance that they had all been under Kazra's rule, and while one shade was the cause of major concern, an army would be something that even the dragon riders would fear.
"Do you feel it?" asked Torik, who was sitting behind him.
Each rider had been set in pairs, and each was obliged to protect the other. As much as possible one of the pairs was either an elf or an older, more experienced rider. Logan was the only exception, having Torik as his partner instead. He had no doubt the older dwarf could handle himself, and he was an experienced rider in his own right.
"Yes," replied Logan.
He glanced down at his sword, which was strapped to his leg. The runes along the blade had begun to glow, signalling the presence of a shade, or many shades. The air had become almost stale and the scent of something fowl lingered through the air. The only sound was the flapping of dragon wings. The land below was desolate, like the land itself had had the energy sucked out of it. It reminded Logan of the broken clearing he and Sashi had first met Kazra in during their first flight, but on a much larger scale. A darkness had also spread across the sky and red streaks of lighting were flashing in the distance. But no rain fell.
The riders around them were getting nervous and fearful. Even the dragons were unsure at whether this was a good idea, but they kept going. The job of a rider was to protect the land. And every person and dragon there knew that they were a little less then an hour's flight from the borders of Alagaesia.
Eragon and Saphira flew up next to the Broken Rider. Ridaror swerved slightly to make room for the larger dragoness. Her conscious touched Logan's own, wanting to commune. The prince let her in.
'Are you ready wild rider?' asked Saphira.
'Yes,' Logan said, though he didn't feel it.
'Good, because we just want to make sure you can do this,' the dragoness spoke with a hardness in her voice, 'Try your best to free your partner-of-hear-and-mind prince, but if you can't. If you find it impossible to rescue her, you are to kill the thing she had become. Do you understand this?'
'Yes,' Logan shuddered, he knew what he had to do. It would be what Sashi would want him to do if he really couldn't bring her to the light once again. But he dreaded it, immensely. To have her gone forever was something he couldn't handle. And if she died, he would to.
'I'm sorry for this,' Saphira spoke, 'I'm sorry it had to be you. But it is something you need to do, as a rider you need to protect the lands.'
'I understand ebrithil,' Logan looked out to the horizon where red lightning was flashing dangerously in the sky, 'And I will do what is necessary.'
Saphira went silent and slowly moved away from the Broken Rider, allowing him to revel in his own thoughts. The rider felt his heart beginning to thud rapidly in his chest as fear and guilt began to rush through him. This was his fault. He needed to fix it. He gripped the hilt of his sword and let loose a gasp as power rushed through him in a torrent so massive that it would have ripped him apart had he not let go. He looked at the sword in surprise. It's shine had grown immense and it was vibrating with the power that ran through it.
"Torik, I have a problem," Logan spoke to the dwarf.
"What?"
"The sword, I literally can't handle its power. Even here it feels like it'll rip me apart if I hold it for to long."
Torik frowned in confusion, "Are you sure?"
"Yes. It's just too much," Logan began to grow fearful again, "If I can't wield it then nothing will stand in their way."
"Look Logan, you can wield it," Torik said, "Just don't keep the power inside you like you usually do. Direct it into a spell, like your wards or something, keep pouring energy into them so it doesn't overwhelm you. Can you do that?"
The prince took a deep breath and nodded. He gripped the handle of the sword once again. Energy rushed through him. But instead of letting it rage out of control the prince took it and transferred the power into the air around him. The wards around him welcomed the energy with eagerness, growing steadily stronger. The dragons around him veered away suddenly as they felt the great release of power
'What was that?' said Saphira, having felt the energy herself.
'My sword,' Logan felt him grin slightly, 'It's a bit too powerful for me to handle all the energy at once, so I'm using it.'
She was right to be surprised. The amount of energy the wild rider was releasing would be enough to kill a normal human spell caster in an instant. The fact that he still had a surplus of energy remaining, and it was still growing, made her realise just how powerful the sword was, and in turn the shade's they were about to fight.
The thunder of dragons finally came into view of the shade army, for it was an army. The mass of them walked through the land unhindered with over three hundred numbered in their ranks. A dark, transparent mist was snaking over the field toward a large green forest that signalled the beginning of Du Weldenvarden. They had nearly arrived at Alagaesia. If the dragon riders lost this fight there would be nothing stopping the army from marching through the elven forests.
A piecing screech echoed over the ranks of the dragon riders and they looked up as a flash of gold washed through the dark clouds. Red-gold fire spewed out in front of them, stopping the dragons in their flight. Seraphina erupted from the clouds above them and came to a hovering stop in front of the ranks. Her red eyes blazed hatred and her very form radiating with power. The shadebane sword pulsed angrily, the power it in increasing to such an extent that Logan had trouble keeping up with it. He began to leak power to the riders around him, strengthening their wards as well as his own.
Kazra sat on the shade dragon's back. His black blade reaching out towards the riders, wanting to taste their death. A cackle of laughter left him, the sound amplified by magic. The riders shivered in fear.
"About time you fools came!" his voice echoed, "We have been waiting for you. We thought you got scared off."
Logan felt anger beginning to swarm through him at the voice of the shade. The voice that had laughed at him as it killed his dragon. The voice that had haunted him from the first day of being a rider. It was time this voice died.
"I think this battle will go better if you were all grounded. Don't you think?" Kazra smiled and lifted his hand, "Tentil drago carata!"
The strange words echoed through the air, followed be a swarm of magic so powerful that the air rippled as the spell was spoken. Without thinking Logan through up his own hand, mumbling a protection spell and letting the energy from the sword help him. He gritted his teeth as his power and the shade's clashed, but the sword won, directing the spell away from the dragons and riders. Seraphina faulted in the air and a snarl sounded from her lips.
"They are under my protection Kazra the first. Your fight is with me, not them," Logan spoke, lifting his voice with magic of his own, "And you will not win."
The shade dragon hissed at him and took a flap of her wings, shooting towards him and the dragon he was on. It was the first direct attack, and everything erupted into chaos. Ridaror folded his wings and dove downwards. The rider's ranks split. Fire flew. Spells were cast. Arrows were loosed. And the battle began.
Logan and Torik pressed themselves against the dark blue dragon's back as he sped toward the earth with frightening speed. Seraphina was right on their tail, her anger radiating toward them. As they passed over the shade army fire spewed from Ridaror's maw, lighting up the shades below in his own dark fire. A roar sounded from behind as Seraphina's fire engulfed them. Ridaror rose from the other side unharmed, Logan's wards protecting them. But to do so had required a surprising amount of energy, much more then average dragon fire.
The blue dragon began to rise into the sky once again and away from shade fireballs and arrows. The move was a mistake however and with a heavy clash the golden dragon collided into Ridaror's back. Logan weaved a quick spell, not bothering with words, and loosened Seraphina's grip on them, managing to leaved her behind as Ridaror made another grab for the sky. The problem was the shade dragon was so much faster then them. That became blindingly obvious as she began to wing her way after them at an impossible speed.
Torik turned in the saddle, gazing at the dragon. He put out his hand, "Eriak torene!"
A ball of lightning blasted from his hand, striking Seraphina's head. She roared in anger, faltering in the air. Logan frowned at the dwarf's strange word choice. The language he had spoken sounded exactly the same as the words Kazra used in his spells. They weren't of the ancient language, that much was certain, and if it had been a normal dragon Seraphina would have died with the power that was formed from the attack. She was a shade however, and as with all shades she could only be killed by being stabbed in the heart.
Ridaror levelled himself out high above the ground, watching as the dragoness that was once his mate came charging toward him in reckless abandon. At least she had the same fighting style. One that Logan knew the weaknesses and strengths off. That much hadn't changed.
'She's too fast,' said Ridaror to his riders, 'I can't outrun her.'
'Just keep trying. We've been throwing magic at her to try and tire her out,' Logan replied, casting a fire spell and managing another direct hit, blowing the shade dragon backwards.
Ridaror growled, 'Spells do nothing! They merely slow her down enough for me to escape with my life still intact. We need something different.'
'I've got an idea,' Torik said.
"Ifrel dieara fro," he said in the strange language. An icicle formed in the air above them and the dwarf pointed towards the dragon chasing them. The icicle propelled towards them, causing the shade dragon to growl in surprise and twist out of the way. The icicle skimmed passed her scales, ripping some off and leaving a trail of blood.
"Dammit," hissed the dwarf.
Suddenly a gust of wind struck Ridaror in the chest, ripping his wings backwards. He roared out in agony as the tendons snapped and the bones broke. The wind propelled him backwards and into the grasp of the shade dragon. The dwarf and human on his back were nearly thrown from the saddle as the straps around their legs began to rip and the pressure that was thrown against them.
Seraphina roared in triumph and latched onto Ridaror's neck, bighting down hard. Logan's wards creaked and groaned under her grip but managed to hold as the wild rider still poured his energy into them. He saw Kazra on the golden dragon's back raise his sword to stab at them, and Logan's own sword whipped up, blocking the blow, and then they began to fall.
The shade dragon closed her wings letting them plummet towards the ground. She bit and clawed at Ridaror, trying to break through the wards that circled his body. The dragon tried his best to fight back but with broken wings and a crushed chest he was finding it extremely difficult. His claws raked over her scales harmlessly. He couldn't find the energy to put any power into his strikes. His two riders could feel the dragon's energy waning as he fell. Logan tried to stab at Seraphina's unprotected belly but was blocked by Kazra as the shade desperately tried to defend his dragon. And they continued to fall.
All to late Logan realised what was happening. He cried out in alarm and cut the saddle straps around his legs, as well as Torik's. He pulled the dwarf off the dragon's back and used magic to propel them away, just as Seraphina let go. There was no saving the dragon. Even with the amount of power the two of them had they didn't have the time or the energy. At the speed in which they were travelling it would have been like stopping a mountain that was falling from the sky. Impossible.
With a loud crack Ridaror collided with the ground, sending a small shockwave through the ranks of the shades and knocking them off their feet. Logan caught himself and the dwarf with a spell and lowered himself to ground. He landed and instantly threw up magic, knocking away the shades as they swarmed to the downed dragon. But it was too late. He had died in the fall. His broken body lay sprawled out, blood soaking from many points in his body. His wings looked as if they had been ripped off and his chest had concaved into his body from the force of the fall. It was a gruesome sight.
With regret Logan turned to face the swarming shades that were rushing toward him and the dwarf. From one death trap to another. Even with his sword he doubted he could face so many of them at once. Taking a step forward his raised his hand and cast a spell.
"Jeida!"
He put as much power behind the spell as could, throwing many of the approaching army away from him. They cried out in anger as the invisible force picked them up and carelessly threw them into the air. And then the ones that hadn't been affected by the attack were on him. He gritted his teeth as he ducked and weaved at a speed that would even impress even an elf, stabbing his sword like a snake. A shade died, only to be replaced by another. He lost sight of Torik, and didn't hold his hopes high that he would see the dwarf again. He was probably already dead.
Logan hardened his heart and continued fighting, casting energy into the mass around him and using it to crush and piece the shades that threw themselves at him. It was strange, to think that the greatest worrier would have trouble against a single shade yet here he was fighting off an army, and winning. He didn't kill every shade he hit, sometimes opting to cut off their head or slice through their limbs instead. It would make them disappear for a bit and on this occasion it was just as good at killing them.
But the more he killed the less energy his sword gave him. It started of slowly at first. At the first shade he killed he didn't even feel the energy loss, but at the tenth he began to realise what was happening. At thirty dead shades it was noticeable and he began to lessen the energy he was sending out, finding it easier to control it. Of course the mere presence of a dragon shade had increased his power by massive amounts, and Kazra himself was likely twice, if not three times more powerful then the average shade. Why else would he be their leader? That helped, but it would be far easier to defeat him if there were still some shades left. The problem was he was high in the sky on the back of a dragon while Logan was stuck on the ground.
He spotted a mountain to the side of the battlefield and an idea came to his head. He began to slaughter his way towards the mountain, struggling against the amount of shades that were pile up against him. The good thing about killing shades was they didn't leave bodies behind when they died, making the terrain much easier to manage.
A huge amount of energy suddenly ruptured the air, much like what had happened at the beginning of the battle. Roars of surprise and cries of terror erupted through the sky as dragons began to plummet from the air. Most managed to catch themselves before they landed. Enough to make their landing a little more graceful then a crash at least. However the fact that they were landing was bad in itself. Logan watched helplessly as an orange dragon was swarmed by shades, which killed its rider before breaking the dragon's skull. It was a horrifying scene but as more dragons landed and were killed it became a common one.
Logan gritted his teeth and fought his way up to the top of the mountain. A few of the shades followed him but he dispatched them rather quickly. He quickly looked to the sky to see a few dragons still fighting in the air. He watched as Seraphina crashed into a black dragon, one he recognised as Cinder, dragon of Etherelda. An elf whom he had trained with while he was in Du Weldenvarden. The black dragoness and her rider were doing surprisingly well against Seraphina, but it was only a matter of time before they made a mistake. The two dragons clawed at each other, wounding the other, but as he watched Cinder began to fall back. A large wound in her side was slowing her down as the shade dragon played with them. Flying around with impossible speed before diving down and attacking the black dragon. They wouldn't last much longer.
Logan gritted his teeth and began to weave a spell, using the energy from his sword. He thrust his hand up, the golden Gedwey Ignasia shining brightly from his palm. Not knowing the words for the spell he simply cast forward his will, wrapping the shade dragon in invisible bonds. Cinder, seeing this happen, launched a furious attacked, knocking Seraphina out of the sky. Logan grinned and took hold of them as they fell, bringing them to the mountain where he was.
A furious Kazra unleashed a spell at the rider but his wards protected him. The force of the spell however made him stumbled backwards. He managed to keep his grip on the shade dragon, his energy draining at an alarming rate. He was now able to control the magic within him and stopped unleashing energy, needing all of it to help win this fight.
Seraphina came to a crash landing on the mountain, sending up dust and stones. A sharp rock broke a bone in her wing, causing her to snarl in discomfort. She rolled to her feet. Kazra wasn't on her back. A strangled cry of anger erupted from behind the prince and he turned just in time to block an overhead stroke from the shade. The force behind it would have normally knocked the blade form his hand, but the sword held easily against it.
"You will die!" cried the shade drawing back and attacking again, relentlessly.
Logan fell back, letting the shade rage onward. He moved easily and blocked strongly, infuriating Kazra even further. No human should be able to do what Logan was doing, but the sword was in the way. That sword, the thing that had defeated him once before was now standing in his way once again, and he would not allow it to win. Not again, not ever.
"You're loosing your touch Kazra," Logan smiled with hatred.
"We're not going to loose this time," growled the shade as the two locked hilts, "This time, We're going to destroy you... and the riders! And nothing will stand in our way! Nothing! We will destroy Alagaesia, and then the world!"
The dark tendrils of the shade's blade of darkness shied away from the light of the shadebane sword, seeming reluctant to fight it. The blade shimmered in the light, and with every strike a small piece of it broke. A tiny piece, not enough to make a difference, but in excess the blade began to weaken under the power of Logan's sword.
Kazra stabbed forward at the Broken Rider. Logan pushed the blade away from him and kicked the shade in the stomach with his heal, causing him to stumble backwards with a gasp. Logan then switched from defence to attack, driving the shade back. The prince was like a demon, striking so hard and fast the shade had trouble keeping up. He wasn't going to win this fight, unless he took desperate measures.
Logan stabbed forward but instead of dodging of blocking the strike Kazra let the blade piece his shoulder. He growled in pain, before attacking back. Logan gasped in surprise as the blade of darkness pieced his stomach, exiting his back. The prince grunted in pain, his hand slipping from the hilt of his sword, leaving it embedded in the shade's shoulder. He stumbled backwards, Kazra's sword still in his stomach.
Kazra smiled in victory, reaching around and wrenching the shadebane sword from his shoulder. He hissed in pain and threw the blade to the floor. The hilt had burned him. He looked down at his hand where the red swelling was. It still hadn't turned golden, much to his suspicion, though he suspected that it was because he was a shade. Seraphina had told him that he was definitely her rider, and even now he felt her mind in his, urging him to go on. They were one.
He drew a dagger from his belt and began to walk towards the Broken Rider. Logan had fallen to his knees. His energy had left him. The pain in his stomach was overwhelming him. It was like molten iron had been thrust through his stomach. The world was fading in and out of focus, much like when he had lost Sashi, but darker. It wouldn't be long now.
Kazra snarled his victory and raised the dagger above him, ready to plunge it into the prince's bowed head, but as he went to accomplish the action, he found he couldn't move. Frowning he tried to bring down the dagger again, but he couldn't. It was like he suddenly didn't have control of his movement. In horror he realised something was moving through his mind. It reached the centre of his being and he gasped, dropping the dagger to the floor, and against his will stepped back.
'You're mine,' the malice of the shade dragon struck through both Kazra the first and the Broken Rider, 'You're both mine. Humans are weak. I thought you would be able to kill the fool prince, but you were unable to. All well. I will have to do it myself then.'
Logan got to his feet, Seraphina's mind locking him under a haze as he watched his body move without his control. The rider and the shade looked at each other, shock written in their faces.
'Seraphina? What are you doing?' said Kazra, his mental voice also transferring to Logan.
'You really thought I was yours? You poor, poor, shade Kazra. So desperate, yet so cunning. I am no ones, you fool! I am myself. The most powerful thing on this planet and you were the only one standing in my way,' she snarled in their minds, 'Both of you. The human with the sword that could kill a shade and the shade that was to powerful for his own good. But I am more.'
Logan stayed silent as Seraphina made him walked over to where his shadebane sword lay stuck in the ground. He bent down and picked up the glowing blade, before turning towards Kazra. Instantly his energy was back and his mind clear, but as he tried to shove Seraphina from his conscious he realised that the shade dragon was too deep inside of him for him to even attempt to dismantle her hold. The pain where the sword was still in his stomach began to dull as power overwhelmed him.
The prince walked back over to where Kazra was standing hopeless, watching in fear as the rider approached him.
'You know. I had hoped you would destroy each other,' said Seraphina, 'That would have been something to see. Then after you two were gone there would be nothing to stand in my way. Of course I couldn't slay you by myself Kazra. A shade can't kill a shade. Weird that, isn't it? Even if I did stab you in the heart, you wouldn't die. Only non-spirits can defeat spirits it seems.'
Logan levelled his blade at Kazra's chest. The shade gazed forward in fear unable to turn his head. His hands and body were shaking uncontrollably. This couldn't be the way he would be killed. It was impossible that he should die this way. Killed by his own creation.
Seraphina laughed, walking over to them. Her broken wing was dragging in the dirt behind her, blood pouring from the many wounds present in her body. She didn't seem fazed by any of it however, her blood red gaze piecing literally into the two-legs in front of her. They were going to die, and the thought made her glad. In the back of her mind the annoying presence of Sashi was calling out to her, telling her to stop, but she ignored it. Hopefully once the rider was dead her presence would fade.
'Oh that's right, your heart's over this side. Isn't it,' Seraphina grinned as Logan changed the position of his sword from the left side of Kazra's chest to the right, 'You see, you made one... no two mistakes Kazra. The first mistake was creating a creature more powerful then you. The second was trusting that creature. Seriously? I'm a shade, and you know all to well how we think. And now, you will die because of it.'
"No!" Kazra cried out loud, his voicing breaking through her control, but it was already to late. Logan thrust his sword forward all to eagerly, piecing the shade's heart. Everything went silent for a moment as Kazra looked in horror at the glowing blade imbedded in his chest. Seraphina let her control of the shade disappear and he staggered backwards.
Slowly his skin began to disintegrate, piece by piece falling off in slow flakes. The veins under his skin began to bulge as the spirits began to swarm at his skin, desperately trying to break free of the failing body. His eyes faded from red to grey and he collapsed to a knee. Colour writhed under his skin as the spirits pushed desperately to break free of the prison that was this body. But having been like this for thousands of years the body was desperately trying to hold onto them. It wouldn't hold long however as a red vein of colour suddenly split down the shade's back, and then he exploded, the spirits breaking free in a great torrent. The sky lit up with them as they fled the body before disappearing into the black sky above. The husk that was left fell to the floor lifeless.
'Now it's your turn rider,' said Seraphina, looking at the rider before her.
He felt his arms move as he raised the shadebane sword to his own chest. The crying of Sashi became louder in the dragon's head as she growled, shaking it down. No. This was her moment. She wasn't about to let some stupid dragon ruin it. Logan began to push the blade down, the tip of it breaking his skin, before he suddenly stopped.
A third conscious pushed its way into his mind, stopping the movement. It was a conscious so great, so amazing, so angry and so familiar. His eyes widened in disbelief.
"You will not kill my rider!' screamed Sashi.
The shade dragon stumbled backwards with a roar as her mind was assaulted by the golden dragoness. Her anger was unparalleled as she ripped apart the shade from the inside. With every painful yank the shade staggered backwards roaring in defiance but unable to push it through. The wild dragon yearned to be free. She yearned to save the person that was her rider, she yearned to destroy the evil in her body, and there was nothing that was going to stop her.
'Get... out... of... me!" Sashi screamed.
Everything suddenly went silent as Seraphina bowed her head, and went still. Colour began to ripple under her scales and the glow that had been present when the spirits had entered her began to shine again, but instead of coming from outside it shone from within. A strange screeching suddenly erupted from her as she staggered backwards, rearing onto her hind legs and roaring out to the world.
The first spirit exited her with a brush of light and an explosion of scales. It was followed by another from a different direction, and then another and another. Sashi screamed in pain and rage, pushing them out with strength of her mind. Nothing would stop her. Nothing would hold her. Nothing would keep her. She continued to push, the pain unbearable but strangely satisfying.
Golden scales were shot in every direction and Logan found himself assaulted by the armour. He stumbled behind a rocked, wincing as the projectiles were shot at such a high velocity that they cut into stone. One had caught him in the leg and blood ran freely from the wound. He put his hand over his ears as Sashi's conscious overwhelmed him. The sword in his stomach began to hurt him again but he ignored it, trying to phase out the pain.
Suddenly it stopped. The bright colours of spirits disappeared into the sky. The clouds began to clear as the spell that was keeping them in place disappeared. Logan slowly rose his head from the rock to see Sashi laying sprawled on the ground, blood covered her body making her look more red the gold. All her scales had been scattered around the mountaintop. There were only a few left on her tail, but the thing that scared Logan the most was she wasn't moving.
He staggered over to her. His calf and stomach burning nearly stopped him, but he was forcing himself onward. He needed to see his dragon. He collapsed beside her head and reached out, brushing her jaw. His hand came away slick in burning dragon blood. She didn't move. A sob escaped him. All this work... for nothing. She was dead. She was dead.
'Ow, that hurt,' her voice trickled like water into his head.
'Sashi?' he said in disbelief, tears flowing from his eyes.
'Not dead,' her eye opened revealing a gentle golden iris.
'Sashi!' He wrapped his arms around her, sobbing into her neck. His tears mixed with her blood and dripped onto the floor. The golden dragon growled slightly, but welcomed the pain. She was with her rider again, and that was all that mattered to her at the moment. She moved slightly, curling herself around her rider. They would live, after all this. Her own sobs echoed around the plateau as she joined in her happiness with her rider's. Nothing would separate them ever again. Ever.
Logan moved slightly, leaning himself against her body. He didn't mind as her blood soaked through his clothes and armour. As long as it was hers, and not some monsters. She was alive and together they revelled in each other's presence, just glad to be back together again.
As the clouds cleared they revealed the setting sun in the distance. Dragons and riders rose to the air once more as the shade army retreated. They had won. They had defeated them all; at a cost but it was a cost well worth it. The shade army was gone. Logan rested his head against Sashi's flank.
And so the Broken Rider and the Scaleless Dragon watched as the sun set over the horizon.
Etheralda (AJSCURRAH):
When I awoke, it was to the sounds of the forest and the warmth of a filtered sun. Stiff, but not sore, I stretched as I sat, curious to note that I was on a bed inside a wooden cabin of sorts. Dust motes circled overhead, settling into the fibres of my blankets and joining a layer on the floorboards. A broad-shouldered man with dishevelled hair sat in a chair across the room, his sword on his knees, a book discarded at his feet.
"Azren?" I asked. The last I remembered of our time together was in the cave, when I'd been abducted and he'd freed me from the chains. Cinder had been there too, to render my torturer limb from limb, but the touch of her mind was soft now, as if she slumbered. I retreated from the shores of her mind, intent on letting her sleep.
The man in the chair stirred. "I'm awake," he insisted, and I believed him — he sounded tired, as if he hadn't slept for days.
"When was the last time you slept?"
The man frowned. "The night before your abduction. Which was yesterday, might I add; you've slept from sundown to midday."
He'd stayed awake two entire nights, just to watch over me? "I don't..." I was about to say that I didn't know what to say, when the words in the ancient language eluded me. I did know what to say. "Thank you. I am in your debt."
He couldn't deny the truth of that statement, but he did reply with: "I acknowledge the debt exists, but I won't take advantage of it."
Appreciation surged within me. The man was smart, and decent, too — not to mention exotically handsome. Azren filled his shirt in a manner that elven males could not, and his features were a divine blend of strong lines and rounded corners. High cheekbones tempted my fingers, a full bottom lip tempted my own, eyes large enough suggest innocence tempted my heart; gold eyes large enough to drown in.
I realised that I was staring at him and cleared my throat. "What book is that?" I asked, gesturing to the tome at his feet. "Finished reading it already?"
Azren snorted. "I haven't even started it," he admitted, running a hand through that silky dark hair. "Ever since... well, I've been distracted lately. Can't seem to get my head in a state to accept the words."
Ever since what? I wondered, leaning forward with an unbearably acute curiosity. It seemed that over time, Cinder's traits had rubbed off on me.
As if my curiosity had rekindled her own, Cinder woke. She pilfered my memories to regain her bearing. I think he likes you, she slurred, still recovering from sleep. I saw it in his head when I attacked him.
You did what? I gasped. Now I was the one pilfering memories. In a rush, I recovered everything that I'd missed from the moment I was abducted. I winced at the recollection of her fear, rage and pain — her emotions had been so potent. I relived the moment where her love for me drove her to kill a fellow rider.
You shouldn't have done that, I sent, sober with the implications of what had transpired. He was insane, but he was also grieving. We could've taken him back to the settlement and handed him over to the healers.
Cinder disagreed.
Azren cleared his throat. "If you're feeling better now, we should get going. Someone needs to report the incident to Eragon and Sapphira, let them know we have a grieving dragon on our hands."
I frowned, confused. Then it hit me — the violet dragon that had been paired with the insane rider who abducted and tortured me. She'd refused to make contact with my mind and had stood guard out the front of my prison. She'd foiled my one attempt at escape. "She yet lives?"
"Haezarr showed her mercy," Azren explained. "She took off and went god knows where. What we do know is that she's in a lot of pain right now, and probably unstable. I want to organise a search party as soon as we get home."
"Most do not survive the loss of their rider," I muttered, remembering how intensely Raina had grieved the loss of Edoc'sil's wing.
I know I wouldn't, Cinder remarked, and I felt a terrible sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach.
...
We circled the oceanside mountains, further downward with each full turn. The tree line met the diamond beaches in a seamless curve, like an emerald inlaid in silver. All seemed well at first; distance rendered the citadel built into the mountainside scenic, but we soon realised that something was amiss.
Our first warning came in the density of the air. It settled in my lungs like powdered stone, attesting to the recent use of magic, and copious amounts of it, too. Our second warning came in a flash of emerald fire: two dragons, one green and one orange, were grappling in the forest, mowing down trees as they went. There were other groups of dragons and riders, on the ground and in the sky, engaging in a similar combat. It looked like a poorly managed training routine.
Our third warning was explicitly expressed in our minds, by Eragon Shadeslayer himself. The four of you need to take cover, quickly! We've secured the infirmary cave —
The bridge between our minds disintegrated before he could finish. Startled, I looked across at Azren, who sat astride his golden dragon with sword unsheathed. What should we do? I asked him, readying my mind and body for magic. Meet him in the infirmary?
I know a way in, Azren sent back.
I know several as well, I returned dryly. Most of the cave-homes in the mountainside are connected to the hospital.
It's like a rabbit warren in there, he teased, amused in spite of the gravity of the situation. There are many ways to reach the end destination, but I guarantee that my way is faster.
By all means, prove yourself, I sent, gesturing outward with an arm. What is the human saying? Ladies first?
In a sudden motion the two males veered to the side and dove, bringing themselves parallel with the waterfall near my own cave home. Cinder snapped her wings shut and we followed suit, the drop wringing my stomach in knots, punching the air out of my lungs. As if to make it worse, Haezarr curled around on himself and shot into the wall of water, but a few metres from the base. I squeezed my eyes shut against the cloud of white spray, losing all sense of direction as Cinder twisted this way and that in order to hit the waterfall in the right place at the right time.
The water smacked into me with the force of an urgal... and then it abated. Reeling, I pried my lids open and saw nothing but streaky darkness, the air howling in my ears the only sign that we were moving at all. Were we going up? It wasn't until we started going down that I realised we had been. Placing the ultimate trust in Cinder and our companions, I was able to relinquish most of my fear.
Most of it.
There soon came a time when I heard flesh collide with water and felt the sting of droplets on my face. Were we headed for an underground lake of some kind? Haezarr didn't resurface, but I didn't have the chance to fear for his life, because the water stole around us, too. Cold seeped into my bones. Our motions felt oddly disembodied and made me dizzy. My lungs burned. The water tasted clear and like minerals.
When we broke for air, I felt like I'd been born for the first time. Feeble as a foal, I choked, spluttered, sucked in air, blinked at the naked radiance until it morphed into familiar shapes: floating witch-lights. One of them was larger than the others, a brilliant sphere of burning white gas, like a star. Stories told of how Eragon Shadeslayer had crafted that one himself when he first set foot in the cavern, tying it's consumption of energy to the life of harmful, airborne bacteria; as such, this room remained quarantine at all times. It made for the perfect infirmary.
"What is going on?" Azren barked, sliding from the back of his dragon and striding into the room. The stretchers were burdened with rider and dragon alike, many unconscious, a few mangled beyond the healing repair of time. Those patients needed magic, and quite a lot of it, if they were ever going to recover.
In the centre of the room crouched a legend, her infamous rider on his knees between her taloned feet. Her scales were an ocean raging, her teeth were alabaster swords, her tail a barbed and sinuous whip; she was fearsome and fiercely beautiful, and the longer I looked at her the more I struggled to take in a definitive measure of her qualities, for she was like the sun.
"Don't disturb them," another student warned, from a stretcher that bore a fallen elf with dark hair. The back of his hand was alight with silver as he employed magic to heal the wounds that were life threatening. "Eragon and Sapphira are in the midst of a mental battle. If you break their concentration, they could lose, and they could die. Or worse, they could be used to kill the rest of us."
There were others in the room, but this rider seemed to be the calmest and the most informed, so I moved towards him. Azren frowned and went to consult one of the others, a distraught human woman curled into a ball with her back to the cave wall, closest to the dark river from which we'd surfaced. I tried to swallow the little needle of hate that lodged in my throat when his stern questions gave way to comforting embrace. She was crying, for heavens sake! Of course she deserved to be comforted! What the hell was wrong with me?
Do I detect jealousy? Cinder asked, a little taken aback. Part of her had assumed that the both of us would be forever alone, unloved and unloving, save for the love we held for each other. I had to admit, a fraction of me had assumed the same, until recent events forced me to reevaluate the assumption.
I didn't want to invest effort in an honest evaluation of my feelings, so I threw up a wall between her thoughts and mine, attending to the elven rider instead. "How did this come to be?" I asked him... and then saw who it was on the stretcher, the elf that he was in the midst of treating. It was Ari, fellow rider and cousin, and the tan skin and muscle of her chest was torn back, as if by dragon claw. Blood welled in the shallow depression, thick and dark at the bottom, hot and vivid on the surface layer. The oxygenated blood wanted to rise. "Where is her dragon, Obsidian?!"
"He guards the west tunnel," the elf said, frowning as the second part of his mind tried to recall the correct spell for addressing a wound such as this. "As do the other dragons, who are still healthy of body and mind."
"Still healthy of..." I trailed off, at a loss. But I couldn't ask him for more information; I'd distracted him from the treatment my cousin needed long enough already. "Do not let her die," I snarled. "Or you will wish you'd joined her."
"Such savagery is more becoming of humans," the elf reprimanded, but he returned to the task at hand with focus renewed.
Etherelda? Cinder quested, prodding at the hasty barriers I'd fashioned between our minds. Sighing, I let them crumble and rushed into the embrace of her words. I consulted some of the wounded, and their stories match: a dragon from our class was found murdered twelve hours back, while we were still in the cabin in the woods. His rider went missing, and a search party was founded. Many of those who searched were targeted themselves.
But why? Such violence was senseless. We've broken no treaties.
When those who went missing in action returned, they returned in full force, as an army, Cinder went on grimly. I inspected one man's memory of a mental battle... it seems that our opponents are broken in their minds, due to the grief of losing their rider or dragon. But there was something threading them together, a purpose, crafted with magic the likes of which I've never seen. I don't know what their binding motivation is, but I know it isn't good.
It was unthinkable, that so much life had been lost in the short amount of time that I'd been abducted and rescued. But the evidence of devastation was all around us, in the feeble cries of those half-mad from the torment of their wounds, the cloying stench of blood, and the distant clash of claws on scales and sword on sword in the distance. The entrance to the western tunnel flickered red as someone at the other end let loose a blast of crimson flame; fellow students were in the midst of battle even now. For a second time in the history of riders, we were at war with ourselves.
"Etherelda!" I turned around to see Azren, his sword still in hand. Gone was the humour and the wistfulness that had earlier softened his features; before me stood a hardened creature of battle. "Haezarr and I leave to replenish the ranks in the western tunnel. Will you stay here, and oversee the cavern until we return or our masters awaken?" I opened my mouth to reply, but he put a hand on my shoulder, cutting me off. "I don't ask this because I doubt your fighting abilities. I ask because no-one else here is up to the task of making rational decisions on behalf of the many. Save for Aleil," he added as an after thought, looking towards the elf who attended my cousin, "but he's the best healer we have, and I'd rather we employed his strengths."
"Of course," was all I said. It was what I was about to tell him when he cut me off; I trusted him, and the rationale behind his decisions.
For a moment, I saw a flash of tenderness in his tawny eyes. "Atra du evarínya ono varda," he murmured. May the stars watch over you.
Azren turned on his heel and left me alone, stunned and scared — not for myself, for once, but for his safety. "Atra esterní ono thelduin," I whispered in his wake, even though I knew he couldn't hear me. "Mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr." May good fortune rule over you. Peace live in your heart.
Not alone, Cinder reminded me. Not as long as I live.
I wrapped my arms around her angular snout, holding her close to my body, even as I held her close to my heart. I love you, Cinder.
And I you, little one.
...
Our tender moment was shattered when one of the wounded started pawing at my ankle, smearing blood in their wake. "The eastern tunnel," the young male — a human rider from the year above — rasped. "There's only one sentry, because it takes half an hour to access the main cavern from that direction. But I can sense them," he insisted. "Enemies... come..."
His body failed him and he lapsed into a fit of coughing. Heart softening, I rolled the man onto his side so that he wouldn't choke on his own blood, and then looked at the eastern wall, concentrating... and saw a host of life-forces bobbing in the distance, arrayed in a line that drew steadily closer to our stronghold. One life-force was closer than the others; I took it for that of the sentry, a rider by the size of the glow. They would be slaughtered in the wake of the approaching battalion.
"Cinder, we must do something," I said aloud. A quick glance at Eragon and Sapphira revealed that they were still otherwise occupied. A streak of blood rolled from the Shadeslayer's nose, attesting to the strain of his mental battle.
Remember the stories you used to tell me when I was younger, of Eragon's first battle with the Varden? Cinder asked me. He collapsed the tunnels leading to the dwarven citadel, forcing the urgals to meet their forces on the surface. We should do the same.
"Genius!" I crowed, hastening towards the eastern tunnel. "Come, let us repeat history."
The eastern tunnel was smaller than the western tunnel, but there was still room for the two of us to walk next to each other. Witch-lights, smaller and less frequent than those in the infirmary, cast a blue pallor over the rough-hewn rock. Cinder's scales rejected the radiance, allowing the shades of her to seep into the shades of the walls, a near-perfect camouflage. When I brought this to her attention, her joy was savage.
We came upon the sentry a short while later, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the passage, a green bright-steel blade balanced on her knees. Through Cinder's senses, we smelt blood, and as we came closer I saw red seeping through the sloppily wound bandages that covered her left shoulder, matting the ends of her dark hair.
"Shur'tugal," I called out. "You must return to the main cavern! Enemies approach and I would see this tunnel collapsed."
Startled, the human woman turned around a little too fast, and I heard the scabs of her wounds crack. "Etherelda?" She croaked. "You're one of the newest arrivals to the New Lands. I heard of how you struck a truce with the sand-maidens to secure Eragon's safe return."
It seemed word of our deeds had travelled to the older students. "You need to head back," I reinstated. "It isn't safe here."
For a moment, it seemed that she would protest. But then weariness overcame her pride and she hauled herself to her feet, leaning heavily on her sword. "If enemies approach and I have failed to notice, then I have failed our masters and you as well. I am of no use here."
"You did as best you could, limitations allowing," I reassured her. "Now return to the infirmary. There will be other duties — and food and water — awaiting you there."
Mustering the rest of her dignity, the woman limped in the direction we came from, as fast as her injuries would allow. As soon as the tunnel was clear, I reached out with a mental probe for the earth above our heads, testing for impurities. I wanted to weaken the ceiling, first, and then have Cinder strike it with her tail.
"I'll tweak this... and move that there..." I frowned with concentration, reaching for the correct words and intent. "Deloi sharjalví!" Earth, move! The rock groaned, as if on the verge of splitting in two, and I flashed a toothy grin at Cinder. "Now it's your turn."
She was about to flick her tail into the rock overhead when an unfamiliar mind tackled mine. It felt like the clash of two waves: my subconscious defences petered out at the same moment the stranger's attack did, the momentum of the two separate forces cancelling each other out.
"Cinder, now!" I shouted, even as I sensed the alien mind looming again, gathering threads of energy and fashioning them into a blunt mace.
The first time her tail hit the roof, fissures trickled from the point of impact and formed the impression of a spider web. "Again!" I shouted, readying myself for mental battle.
The second time she struck the stone, it held no resistance. Rock rushed into the tunnel and dust billowed into the air, which made for an unfortunate distraction when it was sucked into our nostrils. Cinder sneezed, two thin streams of blue fire that threw back the darkness for the briefest of instants. By its illumination, I glimpsed a humanoid figure launching itself from the rubble, hands outstretched in imitation of claws.
I ducked beneath the assailant's arms and latched onto their throat with sure fingers, borrowing the momentum of their initial leap to send them crashing into the floor. The elf sucked in a sharp breath, stunned — or so she seemed to be, before she lashed out with her thoughts.
Grief. Agony. Emptiness. Aching. The elven woman wielded her emotions like a sword, and I found that the mental defences I gathered around the core of my mind were too flimsy in the wake of such raw, destructive power. What happened to you? I asked, trembling with the mere aftertaste of her pain. My hands twitched towards my sword — with the intention of ending my own life, rather than hers. Tears wet my cheeks. Why are you doing this?
Rorgarov is dead! She wailed, bucking and flailing. One of her ragged nails caught the corner of my eye and dragged down my cheek, drawing with it a line of fire. My partner of heart and mind, gone! Gone!
Killing others, hurting others, isn't going to bring him back! I snarled, burrowing into her pain instead of shying away from it. It was the only way to access her memories, and beneath that, the centre of command that I needed to seize in order to control her actions. My hand left the hilt of my sword and joined the other at her throat.
But it'll bring me another, she howled, the statement heralding what I found once I stripped the distracting layers of her mentality bare: a pulsating, fiery thread of motivation, connecting her to the minds of several others in a similar state of grief. It was the binding intention Cinder had mentioned earlier, the thing that was driving so many dragons and riders to murder and maim the rest of us. It was the same belief that had driven Galbatorix to insanity: that in killing another rider, he could make their dragon his own.
"I think not!"
With an effort that left me breathless, as if I'd climbed mountain after mountain without relent, I wrested control of her mind and shut it down from the inside out. The woman twitched spastically beneath me, like the leg of a horse shaking loose a biting fly. Then she went slack, unconscious at last, but not dead.
Enough had died today.
...
When we made it back to the infirmary, the unconscious elf in tow, we were greeted with mixed omens. Aleil informed me, trembling and exhausted, that Ari would survive her wounds. Patients carted from the western tunnel, gored and bearing broken bones, carried news that Azren, Haezarr and Obsidian still survived, but also informed us that our forces were slowly but surely losing ground. Eragon and Sapphira had not lost their mental battle, but they hadn't won it, either; both of our masters remained in their trance.
After lending Aleil some of the energy that I'd stored in the pommel of my sword, I wandered over to our leaders, trying to decide how I could best serve those who had survived the plague of madness. Cinder followed, and brought to my attention the white froth encrusting the corners of Sapphira's mouth. Alarmed, I inspected her rider and found that dark blood was trickling from the corners of Eragon's eyes now, as well as his ears. It was not a good omen.
We can't leave them like this, Cinder sent, her words drenched in worry. Even though they are not losing, the mental battle is killing them.
I fear you are right, I said grimly, beckoning the full scope of her mind. It would be safer if we merged into one mental being for this fight.
Bundles at a time, we bound our memories. Next, we bound our emotions. After that, we bound our ideas... and then, as we assumed the same stance as our masters before us, we bound all that remained of our identities and became one.
Wild and civilised, instinct and sense, our consciousness rose from our bodies and the concrete world around us became translucent. We felt untethered, as if we floated in an ocean, able to see in all directions. The fires of different minds flickered into focus all around, like little stars near and far. After a brief search, we discerned that the star closest to us was in fact the union of two minds, the mind that we searched for. We drifted towards them, like a feather on a breeze...
The gentle nature of the advance reassured them that we were friends, not the crazed enemies that assaulted their mental barriers. Our masters welcomed us into the centre of their mind, and we looked about in awe for a moment at the inside of the star, which appeared more like a gemstone cave than an abode of flame.
You have come at a good time, Eragon/Sapphira told us. We've managed to expose the vein of magic linking the mad dragons and riders together, the one that's feeding their insanity and spurring their bloodlust. What we haven't been able to do is dismantle it, though. The magic is wild, draconic at its heart, and strong... we haven't the energy to break it on our own.
We mulled that over. Draconic at it's heart... that meant that a dragon had crafted the spell that set these grievous events in motion. And dragons couldn't control their magic — it was almost always spurred by intense emotions, the kind that cannot be forged. You would seek our help in destroying it? We asked.
Yes, our masters stated.
Their will was meant to be our command, but for some reason, we weren't convinced that this was the best course of action to be taken. What if we alter the nature of the binding agent instead? We asked. We've tasted the loneliness of those grieving, and it's the kind that won't abate. It's the kind that'll drive many riders and dragons in the centuries to come over the precipice of sanity, endangering themselves and the lives of others. This draconic magic, albeit destructive now, presents us with opportunity.
And how do you suggest we seize this opportunity? Our masters asked, a little skeptical, but otherwise willing to listen. Time had proved them patient and wise, for the most part.
By sucking out the marrow of the spell: the motivation to kill our comrades in the hopes of acquiring new riders and dragons to fill in the void of those lost. Then we can replace that motivation with a new motivation: to protect the riders and dragons that still remain. From the inside out, we can cater the spell to our own devices, I went on, excited now. We can use the draconic magic to bind all those who've lost a dragon or rider together, so that all of them can share a bond, similar to that of the sand-maiden hive-mind.
It will require an intense focus and utmost precision in the execution, Eragon/Sapphira warned. The gemstone walls of their mind-cavern were lacklustre and dull; hours of mental battles and the excavation of the vein of draconic magic had spent most of their energy. They would not be able to act on our suggestion in their current state. Are you capable of completing this task?
Once, we'd been Etherelda and Cinder, two separate entities. The former had an instinctual and perfect grasp of caution and precision; the latter had borne an innate intensity in her pursuit of all things. Now we were one, and we had all the tools and skills at our disposal to see this theory transition into reality.
Yes. We are capable.
Then you have our permission to proceed, our masters sent, their words echoing with the eerie melodies of hope. If you can follow through on your idea... it will change the fate of dragons and riders forever.]
...
It was done.
When I came to consciousness, I found that I couldn't remember how much time it had taken us to establish the mind-meld. I couldn't remember the details of what we'd done, the methods we'd employed, or the effort we'd invested. All I knew, as I awoke, was that we'd achieved what we'd set out to achieve, and that at some point we'd separated from our state of oneness like oil and water, collecting in our own bodies before coming to awareness as individuals once more.
"Etherelda," someone said, and their voice caressed the sound — the name — my name. A calloused hand brushed the hair back from my face. "Please... come back to me."
I had to blink a few times before I could see who it was that cradled me: a human rider, with dark hair and thick lashes that shrouded twin suns. Unable to refrain, I reached out to his face and traced a fresh scratch on his cheek, one that still oozed red. Azren leaned into the touch, a smile of relief playing across his lips. His lips...
Perhaps the influence of Cinder's brash personality was still in effect. Perhaps years of learning and experiences had finally expressed their underlying lesson in clear terms: that caution preserved life and dignity, but a life worth living required a little curiosity, and the bravery to follow through on that curiosity. Whatever the reason, I felt a true absence of fear as I pulled Azren down by the back of his neck, a hand fisting in his chainmail, and captured his mouth with mine.
It was like the first time we kissed all over again. At first he went still, too startled to think or act. Then he kissed me back with the sweetest, most passionate fervour, our lips pressing, kneading together, his arms stealing around my waist and hauling me closer. Azren trembled with his need. I shivered with mine. His touch was like a wordless spell in itself, bringing comfort, a sense of safety, a reassurance that had been lacking ever since I took to the woods alone when my parents died in the Varden's great war with Galbatorix. His touch was the proof that I'd never truly succeeded in cutting myself off from all others of my kind.
When at last we surfaced for air, I saw that a small crowd had formed around us, and that our masters were at the front of it. Fierce heat stole into my cheeks, and I reached for Cinder with mind and flesh. Her head snaked between us, legions of amusement – and a distinctive fondness, as well — evident in the smoky depths of her eyes. I braced myself on her snout and climbed to a shaky stand, startled at the weakness in my legs.
"What happened?" I asked of the crowd. Then I caught glimpse of the elven girl, the one who'd lost her dragon and attacked me in the eastern tunnel like a mindless animal. She seemed sad, but not insane. Had our labour restored her mind?
"The maddened returned to their senses," Azren said, voice gruff. He cleared his throat, equally embarrassed — neither of us had been quite aware of the show we were putting on for the masses. "I assume that had something to do with the four of you?"
I shared a looked with Eragon, Sapphire and Cinder. The Shadeslayer shrugged in confirmation.
In order to expose the vein of draconic magic, you must have traced it to it's source, Cinder proposed to Eragon and Sapphira, away from the prying ears of the crowd. Who set this all in motion?
The blue huntress settled back, her demeanour one of sad resolve. You, Cinder.
"What?" I gasped aloud.
While you worked on altering the binding agent, we held the dragon responsible for it immobile, Eragon explained, a grim note in his voice. We examined her memories, and came to understand the circumstances that led to this unfortunate series of events. The dragon — Shoa, her name was — helped her rider, Joardan, abduct and torture Etherelda with the intention of learning Murtagh's whereabouts. You rescued your rider, he went on, looking directly at Cinder now, and killed Shoa's in the attempt. The intensity of her loss spurred her magic, which had a ripple effect on the rest of our ranks.]
The violet dragon, from yesterday! I recalled her suddenly, as well as the rider that had tortured me, the human with wheat-blond hair. "What happened to Shoa, in the end?" I asked.
Eragon looked down. Was he disheartened... ashamed? "We sent her to the afterlife. There was no semblance of her former self left; she was but a shell, intent on destruction."
Cinder remained silent, lost in an inner world. It was unusual for her to remain so still, for her soul to absorb so much remorse. She radiated hatred, but for the first time, it wasn't directed at those who'd tried to hurt me — it was directed inward, at herself.
Release yourself from loathing, and learn from this, Sapphira sent to Cinder. You have done your best to rectify the situation. We understand, and we do not blame you for the death count. Many of us would have acted the same in your situation... she looked over at Eragon, lips curling back from razor-sharp teeth. I know that I would set the entire world aflame if someone tried to take him from me.
Rather than answer, Cinder looked to me. Can you forgive me, for what I've done?
I already have, I answered. Nothing can conquer my love for you. My life began, the day you hatched for me. I thought my knowledge to have been complete, then; I understand now that I was wrong. I have learnt so much since that day... so much from you.
And I you, little one, she returned, closing her eyes. I hugged her neck, pressing my cheek into warm, black scales that swallowed the light, each one a black hole in their own right, each one a sky without stars. But I fear that we both still have much to learn.