((Christmas special double upload- plus a link to a very special Discord server!) https://discord.gg/sVtEam9GcW )

The gods all began slowly congregating back to the Varden's encampment, all having suffered their own defeats.
Cicállaé wandered the battlefield almost aimlessly, their very passing calming the dying soldiers as they healed any they came across. Nightmare wished only to heal those of the Varden, but Dream cared too deeply to overlook the pitiful men that fought pointlessly for the Empire. So all they met were healed.

As they wandered, other skeletons gathered around them, looking for a familiar god to lead them away from this dreadful madness.
Horror, shockingly enough, came and latched onto one of the many branches, shaking as he stared off blankly at the horizon, eyesockets dark and wide as he mutely clung to the merged god, who accepted this and held him, aware of his terror and pain.

Eventually, when enough had gathered around them, Error appeared, waving at them as he turned and headed for the Varden, Blue and GB limping beside him, Geno leaning on Reaper as well.

They inevitably arrived at Nasuada's pavilion, wandering inside- much to the surprise of those already within.
"Wyrdaí Islingrya." Nasuada greeted wearily. "It seems that you have fared just as well as the rest of us."
"Fresh has fallen." Geno spoke abruptly, voice hoarse.
"What?!" Lust gasped, drawing the attention of a few others that hadn't met him before the battle.

Error only faced them silently. He glanced at Cicállaé, who held his gaze for a few moments before the god of destruction sighed.
"It was 404. He snapped his host's skull off in- iπ £®ont øf me, aπ[) rip₱ed o££ my arm$." They suddenly realized his right arm was missing. "I haven't found my right side yet." Fresh's signature sunglasses hung around his neck vertebrae on his glowing blue string.

"He's not the only new enemy." Cicállaé spoke up, drawing everyone's attention to them.
"Nightmare?" Nasuada asked in confusion. They regarded her.
"Both."
She blinked, not understanding. They went on regardless, branches setting Horror's feet to the ground yet not letting him go.
"An old enemy of ours from the Multiverse, the one behind the scythe wielded against us in the assassination in Farthen Dûr. He is known only as Hate, and he freely admitted he has gathered malevolent spirits and forged a deal with them. Whatever he has become, it is something much like a Shade- much more powerful than before if he were entirely present. As it is.. we were lucky he was spread out and distracted by the fighting around us."

"Hate is a Shade now?" Error questioned, voice drained.
"Not quite. The spirits of Shades possess the sorcerers that summon them. Make no mistake, these are the very same spirits, but they are not in control."
"Regardless of whether this Hate is a Shade or not, if he is of the same spirits as was Durza, he is a threat that must be eliminated." Arya asserted.
Cicállaé studied her features for a while, then looked away. "Indeed he is. Before, he was already a dangerous enough enemy."

"It was because of him Boss gathered his team together; that's how deep their history is." Killer stated, staring at his shoes.
"This is indeed worrisome." Nasuada murmured, tapping her fingers on the table as she leaned on it. "But what happened to you?" She finally queried, studying them curiously.

"Once Hate has latched on, there is very little that can remove it. Hate attached to Dream. Something extreme had to be done. So this is what we-" They cut off suddenly, coughing as they leaned against the table, shivering as the branches curled in on themselves, leaves fluttering weakly.
"Are you okay?" Blue asked in alarm, taking a step forward.

The air here is toxic." They explained tiredly, the wood limbs reaching out as they supported their weight on the branches.
"...The air here does make it uninhabitable for plant life." Arya admitted quietly.
The god of emotion groaned slightly. "It's been affecting us ever since we arrived- it's worse now that so many bodies have been charred. It's suffocating." They shrugged, twigs resting on the edge of the table as the merged god peered around.

"Nevertheless, we have said our part. We know there were others that appeared in battle. Reaper, was that your Chara you were pitted against?"
The god of death cringed, then nodded. "She killed Life once. Killed Life's only son, too- that was much more permanent."
"A dark Chara?" Error asked, voice so low it was nearly muffled by it's own static.
Reaper nodded. "A dark Chara. She is Entropy itself, and her desire is to kill all gods, corrupt all mortals. She's tried to get me to join her before…. Because I'm Death." He readjusted his hands on his black scythe. "She has a scythe of her own now- I don't know where it came from, but it's made of magic. Very dark magic."

"Would you say it was hateful?" Cicállaé asked. Reaper hesitated, thinking.
"I would.. you think Hate was behind it."
"Undoubtedly."
"Wonderful." Geno spoke up, disrupting the conversation.
"Have you something to add?" Nasuada questioned the bloody glitch.
"Yes, quite frankly I do. While you had to fight off 404, I had to fend of Fatal from reaching you, Error. He's out for your blood." He shot the god of destruction a sour look, stress evident in his sockets as the other sighed wearily.
"We had to help him, too." Blue muttered guiltily.
"I can't keep up with all these overpowered enemies targeting me."
He tugged at his shirt, then Horror spoke up, voice wobbling.
"Undyne was there."

"What." Geno deadpanned.
"She was there. And she was angry. I'm a traitor. I abandoned them. I joined humans, it's my fault she's stuck with humans and random skeletons. Heh. Heheh. Heyheheeheehaheheehuhahee-" He clutched the gaping crevice in his skull with one hand, the other wrenching at his right eyesocket frantically. "I can't, I can't, I can't, can't, can't, can't, I hate her, she mutilated me, she hurt my brother! She made me insane, I'm insane, I'll kill her, I'll kill her, tear out her guts, I'll-"
"Horror."

Vivid red eyelights slowly peered at Cicállaé through the thick smoke enveloping the skeleton.
"Breathe. It does no one any good when you panic- especially yourself."
Horror slowly calmed himself out of the panic attack, nodding.
"I'm sorry.. I guess I do have PTSD."
He looked away, gritting his teeth.

As he did so, Eragon suddenly strode into the tent, followed by an absolutely haggard looking human and a group of new skeletons. Cicállaé stiffened, staring at the smallest of them all as the others lit up at the sight of the human Rider.
Nasuada straight up threw herself around him, embracing him tightly. "Where were you? We thought you were dead, or worse!"
"Not quite." The human murmured.
"The candle still burns." Arya continued in the same hushed tone.

As she stepped away to give him space, Nasuada explained what had not yet been mentioned.
"We couldn't see what happened to you and Saphira after you landed on the plateau. When the red dragon left and you didn't appear, Arya tried to contact you but felt nothing, so we assumed…" Her gaze drifted across the others present.
"We were debating the best way to transport Du Vrangr Gata and an entire company of warriors across the river before the Wyrdaí Islingrya came."

"I'm sorry." Eragon apologized. "I didn't mean to worry you. I was just so tired after the fight, I forgot to lower my barriers."
After a moment, he pulled the other human in front of him, waving to the skeletons to join them.
"Nasuada, I would like to introduce my cousin, Roran, and the skeletons with him, Dance, Alter, Abyss, Kin, Beats, and Mecha. Roran, skeletons, Lady Nasuada, Leader of the Varden and my liegelord. And this is Arya Svit-kona, the elves' ambassador. This is Reaper, god of death, and-" He cut off, seeing Error without the black on his bones. His skull was a mottled reddish grey, the glitch averting his gaze.

"You changed?" Dance questioned, recognized him first.
The monsters of the Wyrdaí Islingrya all blinked in confusion before Error replied.
"I'm not naturally black-boned." He pointed a single vividly colored phalange upward. "I'll take them back soon enough. I'm just…" He sighed, gripping the sunglasses. "I'm tired."
"Are they these codes you mentioned before?" Nasuada inquired of him. He nodded, playing with brightly glowing blue strings absentmindedly before Chaos buried her head into his jacket.

"But.. Nightmare?" Eragon queried in confusion, staring at the last god.
"Both, Eragon. Both of us. You have not yet seen us like this before, so your confusion is understandable."
"I never saw anything of this.. combination before."
"Because we discovered it recently in Du Weldenvarden, and you were much too busy training to know."
"...How?"
"Because, in the end both of us are only on-" They cut off sharply, branches trembling violently for several seconds.
"What's wrong?" Eragon questioned, reaching for the merged god.

"The air is bad." Dust explained, staring at them in concern, Horror backing away as a spasm ran down the length of the branch near him.
"We- will be fine. So long as we don't spend an overwhelming amount of time here. The fumes from the burning bodies is what really hurts, we think. Once that clears, it will be better."
"Hopefully it will, or you'll have to leave- both of you, regardless of if you're.. merged like that or not." Geno waved his hands at them spastically.

They grumbled. "You're suggesting we abandon you. Well that isn't happening." It sounded as though both Dream and Nightmare were speaking in turn, first the darker, then the lighter. They continued, the rift widening as they spoke.
"Maybe you can leave, but we are too valuable in this battle. Even if we might not be able to fight, too many of the Varden are injured beyond the capabilities of the Du Vrangr Gata. And more, we have a duty to this land as gods, as caretakers, as the balance here is atrociously nauseating for the both of us. You forget that it's so far in the negatives it was almost killing us. It was beginning to stabilize somewhat until the Agaetí Blödhren, to which was likely precisely when Hate arrived or merged with the Dakshen! You have no idea what you are even beginning to suggest."

Geno stood before them, glitch flickering as it revealed his melted side as Eragon's cousin interrupted the moment.
"You could instead come with us to kill the Ra'zac."

There were a few gasps from the skeletal newcomers as Cicállaé regarded him, Eragon cringing.
"Didn't you hear what we said?"
"Yes, and I think that if we fly, we can be there and back with Katrina in less than a week."
They hesitated, before having an internal debate.

"Granted, it may take a while before the Empire could strike again, so that lies within the realm of possibility. On the other hand, we cannot afford not knowing-" "Well, I can always contact either of you in case of emergency if that were the case." Error interrupted, gesturing to Geno's armband since the entire arm that his own was worn upon had been torn away.
"And since you know the place, it can't be too difficult teleporting back. But aside from that, it sounds like you're suggesting riding off with Eragon and Saphira when both are needed here as well- and cannot teleport." Error addressed Roran before glancing at Nasuada.
"Unless you can sanction such an operation?"

She hesitated, seeing Roran's intense stare before shaking her head.
"It is much too soon to be making such decisions. You must understand this, of course, I will consider it- but we have yet to recover our losses, let alone know anything of the new Rider!"

There was a moment of silence, then Eragon spoke.
"I suppose proper introductions and explanations are in order."
"Yes." Cicállaé agreed hesitantly.

Eragon then went on to explain how Roran had brought the entire village of Carvahall on a ship called the Dragon Wing to help the Varden, and that Roran had slain the Twins- "The balded humans lived?!" Cicállaé had erupted, eyelights a glaring purple-blue as they regarded Roran with a hint of admiration.
"The Varden are in your debt, Roran, for stopping their rampage. Who knows how much damage they would have caused before Eragon, Arya, Blue or one of the gods could have confronted them? You helped us win this battle. I won't forget that. Our supplies are limited, but I will see that everyone on your ship is clothed and fed, and that your sick are treated."

Roran bowed deeply. "Thank you, Lady Nasuada."
"If we weren't so pressed for time, I would insist upon knowing how and why you and your village evaded Galbatorix's men, traveled to Surda, and then found us. Even just the bare facts of your trek make an extraordinary tale. I still intend to learn the specifics- as I am sure the rest of us do, and more importantly I am sure it concerns Eragon- but I must deal with other, more urgent matters at the moment."
"Of course, Lady Nasuada."
"You may go, then."
"Please." Eragon insisted. "Let him stay. He should be here for this."

She glanced at the human Rider curiously, then relented. "Very well. If you want. But enough of this dawdling. Jump to the meat of the matter and tell us about the Rider!"

Eragon nodded and proceeded not to just explain what happened, but give a history on the remaining three dragon eggs, two of which had hatched, of Morzan and Murtagh, so Roran would be at least somewhat caught up with events before he moved on to his and Saphira's battle with the new Rider, explaining how they had superhuman abilities.
"As soon as he spun his sword around, I realized we had dueled before, so I threw myself at him and tore off his helm."

"It was Murtagh." Several skeletons stated easily. Nasuada nodded with them.
"How…?"
"We all sensed it one way or another when we knew him." Error explained.
"I legit saw it once when we were racing to the Varden." Horror added, eyesockets half shut as he remembered.
Nasuada then added. "I understand because if the Twins survived, then it only made sense that Murtagh had as well. Did he tell you what really happened that day in Farthen Dûr?"

Eragon nodded, going on to describe the human Twins' betrayal of the Varden, recruiting Urgals to assassinate Ajihad and kidnap Murtagh. A tear made it's way down Nasuada's cheek. "It's a pity that this befell Murtagh when he has already endured so much hardship. I enjoyed his company in Tronjheim and believed he was our ally, despite his upbringing. I find it hard to think of him as our enemy."

Cicállaé nodded. "In the end, he isn't really our enemy…. Only forced against us. And so very angry at the world."
Nodding in agreement, Nasuada turned to Roran. "It seems I am also personally in your debt for slaying the traitors who murdered my father."

There was a moment as Eragon seemed to struggle with his courage.
Then the treeskeleton rested a branch on his shoulder, leaves fluttering as the aura took effect.
Eragon described how Murtagh stole his blade, Zar'roc, and revealed that his father, their father, was Morzan.

Disbelief shot through those gathered, even notes of disgust before Horror gasped.
"Not!" He fell to his kneecaps, clutching his ribs. Cicállaé lifted him to his feet before the others went stiff, fighting against the strength of Wyrda.
"...8¡+¢h." Error swore silently, glaring at the floor.
"Could Murtagh have been lying?" Arya asked.
"I don't see how. When h
I questioned him, he told me the same thing in the ancient language."
Silence filled the pavilion.
"The ancient language operates on belief. He believes you are his full brother in blood. But Eragon, do you?" The merged god asked quietly.
The human paused, then shook his head fervently. "No."

"No one else can know about this." Arya stated severely. "The Varden are demoralized enough by the presence of a new Rider. And they'll be even more upset when they learn it's Murtagh, whom they fought alongside and came to trust in Farthen Dûr. If word spreads that Eragon Shadeslayer is Morzan's son, the men will grow disillusioned and few people will want to join us. Not even King Orrin should be told."

Nasuada, rubbing her face wearily, agreed. "I fear you're right. A new Rider…" Shaking her head, she continued. "I knew it was possible for this to occur, but I didn't really believe it would, since Galbatorix's remaining eggs had gone so long without hatching."
"It has a certain symmetry." Eragon commented.
"Perhaps." Cicállaé agreed, leaves twitching.

"Our task is doubly hard now." Nasuada spoke up. "We may have held our own today, but the Empire still far outnumbers us, and now we face not only enemies that rival the gods, but two Riders, both of whom are stronger than the two of you, Eragon and Blue. Do you think you could defeat Murtagh with the help of the other skeletons and the elves' spellcasters?"
"I wouldn't know, Eragon was the one to fight him, not I." Blue explained.
"Maybe." The human added. "But I doubt he'd be foolish enough to fight them and me together- or Blue and I alone."

With that, they all fell to intense discussion on how Murtagh's and the enemy skeletons would effect their battle strategies, Roran and the other new skeletons fading somewhat to the background for over an hour.

Finally, Cicállaé rubbed their face wearily, limbs twitching. "Look." They brought all attention to themselves.
"Everyone here is reaching their limits. We need to rest, all of us. We have suffered great losses today…. Fresh has fallen. He.. his host is dead. Petal is dead." Blinking rapidly with purple green eyelights, they brought out a red and golden-yellow scarf. "He gave this when last he was himself. His dying wish was to give another a chance to live, and to fight for a future for all of those still in the Multiverse, a future for Alagaësia." Watery green-blue tears welled up in their sockets. "Now today, we have lost many, many more than just him. It is no lie when we say that everyone needs to rest. We are all exhausted. So let us depart, and continue this when we have recovered enough to think clearly."

"...Indeed." Nasuada agreed. "We cannot decide this when we are bloody and tired, our minds still clouded from fighting. We must rest, to take this up tomorrow."
With this, everyone parted, searching for wherever they might be able to sleep for the night.
Cicállaé walked away, willing to find someplace with somewhat clearer air to sleep standing up instead- only, they did not walk alone. The small team of new skeletons followed, wary of them.

"What do you want?" The treeskeleton finally turned to face the first of them, of which was the smallest and most familiar.
"What have you done to Dream, Nightmare?" The green-clad one questioned from behind the short one. Cicállaé regarded him, eyelights flickering purple and yellow.
"What do you mean?" Dream's voice queried.
"I- what?" The Sans hesitated, befuddled.
"I've done nothing. If you came here to accuse something, you may leave." Nightmare stated before both spoke again. "We're too tired to deal with arguments right now."
"But you're still.. part? Nightmare?" The fluffy one questioned.
"Yes. What of it?"

"Then surely you have something you took from me years ago."
They stared at him impassively.
"You.. do know what I'm-" "Yes, yes. We knew you were in Alagaësia since only a few days ago, Abyss. We have the orb, broken god. Do you want it back? Because we are tired- you saw Error and Geno back there. They almost lost their brother today. The dwarves lost their king- and Eragon is emotionally compromised because of Murtagh. So. Do you want it returned to you?"

Abyss blanked, processing what they just said before he realized something.
"Why did you call me a broken god?"
"Because." They brought out the glowing turquoise orb from their inventory. "It may have taken years to discern what it was, but we know now what this is. What you unmistakably are. Even if you are just a shred of what used to be, you are still a god. But of what? We can't tell. Either way, this is still yours. We have no use of it." They tossed it back, Abyss fumbling as he caught it.
"It's more use to everyone being returned to you."

"I…. We weren't expecting you to give it up that easily." The robotic skeleton stated in disbelief.
"Maybe because we've changed. Nevertheless, good night. Go back to Carvahall if you want…. And if you want to be part of the Wyrdaí Islingrya, you should think of a name for yourselves."
"That's what the firebird told us." Abyss murmured.
Cicállaé froze. "Firebird? You mean a bird made of fire?"

The group stared at them before Alter slowly nodded.
".... You've seen Blue now, yes?"
"What does that have to do with-"
"That very same bird of flame worked the dragonic changes you've seen upon him. Whatever she is, she is everywhere."
They stiffened after saying that, sensing something.
"Do you know anything of what she is?" Alter asked, stress visibly evident on his face.

"I'm fire incarnate, of course."
Dance yelped as he leapt away from the fire elemental standing beside him, the others all backing away.
"You're here."
"Why yes I am." She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I've waited a while for all of you to meet. I could do nothing for you over the water, though. Thankfully, you are now somewhere I happen to be strong within." She, patted the side of Abyss's face, a pained smile on her face.
"I hope you all can get along…." She murmured. "Gods of the Multiverse can no longer afford to clash."

"Why are you all calling me a god?!" Abyss complained hotly, blushing slightly as his wings puffed up.
"Because you are, my dear. God of the Abyss, and everything it entails. Your very lineage is of gods, whether formed into their position or born to it, it still makes you a born god."
"How do you know this?" Cicállaé asked suspiciously.
"My father was a Gaster. Are you saying he was a god somehow?"
"Why yes. Perhaps not at the time you knew him, but circumstances made him what he is now…. And Nightmare, Dream… if you want to know more, then you are due a visit to Limbo."

"You know him?"
"Yes. I know him. I also know that he is not as alone as you think."
"Why must you be so mysterious, woman?" Nightmare's voice bled through.
"A deity does what a deity do, and I am the one of the flame, my friends. Now, as you have argued yourselves quite recently, you are tired. And you. Off to bed with the lot of you!" She ushered them in the direction of what was presumably Carvahall- if not somewhere entirely random.
"You're acting nothing like that bird we met!" Dance shot at her.

To this, she smirked. "You make the mistake of assuming all my forms have the same personality. I am flame, silly. I change all the time. Now go. You all have things to do." She winked at Cicállaé as the others wandered away, glancing back in confusion.
The treeskeleton stared at the drifting embers, one eyesocket twitching in time with a random twig, then abruptly turned away, stalking off.
Too late to be dealing with her.
….On that, we can agree.

They finally stopped beside the Jiet, the river carrying a faint breeze as in it was fresh air. They shivered, sitting down on the riverbank with a sigh.
Alagaësia is moving faster than we can keep up. Dream muttered within.
No… we can keep apace. We must. For the sake of the future and other gods, we must.
…. To the Gate?
To the Gate, Brother.
𝕥ꪮ 𝕥ꫝꫀ ᧁꪖ𝕥ꫀ ᭙ꫀ ᧁꪮ.