The company of mixed races all relaxed, chatting jubilantly with one another as Eragon turned his attentions to the elf they'd draped comfortably nearby. Only Nightmare noticed as he leaned over and placed his palm on her brow.

Eragon suddenly grimaced, tears pricking his eyes as he started sweating. Nightmare understood immediately, sitting bolt upright and reaching out with his mind to theirs.
Her mind was completely lucid, and constricting on Eragon's with every intention of killing the human.
Unhand the Rider!! He bellowed.

She responded with a pause, then a dagger aimed at the King of Negativity. Well practiced in the art, he blocked it and launched a counterattack, a sharp tendril burrowing into her mind, an attack different from any she expected.
Then Eragon burst out with "Eka aí fricai un Shur'tugal!"

The elf halted her attacks, and so did the skeleton.
She was wary of him, and saw Nightmare as a major threat. The monster noticed this.
I will not harm you, so long as you do not harm him. I will observe to understand if you are friend or foe. He explained in her home tongue. She studied his mind awhile in suspicion, then hesitantly lowered her defenses, ready to slam shut at a moment's notice.

She and Eragon touched, and the pair got to see just how different their minds were. She was as much a human as a dragon was an animal. They all had a chance to truly see each other's minds. The elf was more like Nightmare than Eragon, a few wild notes dancing through her consciousness. Nightmare, however, was a symphony. A hymn reverberated within him, joined by the millions that he was permanently connected to via his power. He was more a physical incarnation of the Balance than he was any living being. Arcane objects of mystery floated this way and that, masked by an aching sense of regret, loneliness, despair, and a constant guarded aura. His true self was hidden deep in his consciousness, though it emerged briefly to explain wordlessly his purpose, his power, and his real nature.

Eragon felt small upon glimpsing his vast, timid awareness that resisted closeness out of a deep-seated fear, ingrained by a tragic event of the past. Of a time when this entity was kind.

What are your names? The elf asked wearily, concealing her fear of the strange being that was the skeleton.
Eragon.
.....
A dragon of all hues formed of light refers to me as Alalëa. I prefer we do not mention my name yet. I do not wish to alarm you.

Eragon was confused, the elf tensing more out of suspicion, yet she was taking careful notice of the name and mysterious dragon with wistful familiarity.
I am Arya. She spoke shortly after.
Why have I been contacted in this manner? Am I still a captive of the Empire? She quested.
No, you are free! Eragon proclaimed happily.
I was imprisoned in Gil'ead, like you, but I escaped and we rescued you. In the five days since then, we've crossed the edge of the Hadarac Desert and are now camped by the Beor Mountains. You've not stirred nor said a word in all that time.

Ah... so it was Gil'ead. She paused, thoughts flicking anxiously as she peered at Nightmare again.
I know my wounds were healed. At the time I did not understand why- preparation for some new torture, I was certain. Now I realize it was you....
Even so, I have not risen, and you are puzzled.
Yes. Replied Eragon.
You are poisoned, aren't you Älfakyn?
I am. During my captivity, a poison called Skilna Bragh was given to me, along with a drug to suppress my power. Every morning the antidote for the previous day's poison was administered to me, by force if I refused to take it. Without it I will die in a few hours. This is why I lie in this trance- it slows the Skilna Bragh's progress, though does not stop it... I contemplated waking for the purpose of ending my life and denying Galbatorix, but I refrained from doing so out of hope that you were allies... She trailed, tired.

Where can the antidote be found? This poison will not do.
How long can you remain like this? They both asked, Nightmare interlacing his fingers together in the outside world and glaring at Dust as he asked what he and Eragon were doing.

For weeks, but I'm afraid I haven't that much time. This dormancy cannot restrain death forever... I can feel it in my veins even now. Unless I receive the antidote, I will succumb to the poison in three or four days.
Where can the antidote be found? Both King of Negativity and Dragon Rider asked in unison.
It exists in only two places outside of the Empire: with my own people and with the Varden. However, my home is beyond the reach of dragonback.
What of the Varden?
We would have taken you straight to them, but we don't know where they are.

I will tell you- if you give me your word that you will never reveal their location to Galbatorix or to anyone who served him. In addition you must swear that you have not deceived me in some manner and that you intend no harm to the elves, dwarves, Varden, or the race of dragons.

Nightmare fully understood what she wanted, as well as Eragon. Unbreakable oaths that would last till the end of time. For Nightmare that proved dangerous, as he knew he would exist till the end of time, one way or another. He promised that he would never harm them, so long as they did not harm him and his people. She took it, as he swore in the unbreakable Language. Then Eragon made his own pledge.

It is understood... Arya sent the pair vertigo-inducing images traveling beside the range, eventually entering a narrow valley that wound around until ending at a waterfall and deep waters of a small lake. It faded out.
It is far, but do not let the distance dissuade you. When you arrive at the lake Kóstha-mérna at the end of the Beartooth River, take a rock, bang on the cliff next to the waterfall, and cry, Aí varden abr du Shur'tugals gata vanta. You will be admitted. You will be challenged, but do not falter no matter how perilous it seems.
And what of you? How will we address the Skilna Bragh?
What should they give you for the poison?

Her voice shook, then she regained her composure.
Tell them- to give me Túnivor's Nectar. You must leave me now... I have expended too much energy already. Do not talk to me again unless there is no hope of reaching the Varden. If that is the case, there is information I must impart to you so the Varden will survive. Farewell, Eragon, Rider of dragons... Farewell, o Alalëa, sorrowful mind... My life is in your hands.

She withdrew, sinking into herself and releasing Eragon from the strain of her contact. Nightmare regarded him and pulled away as well, now standing. The Rider took a shuddering breath and looked up as the other explained what happened.

"How far away is the Varden?" Murtaugh asked.
"I'm not exactly sure." Eragon admitted. "From what she showed us, I think it's even farther than from here to Gil'ead."
"What?!" Killer stood in outrage as Horror raised his skull, Dust cursing as Cross pinched the space between his sockets.
"And we're supposed to cover that in three or four days?" Murtaugh demanded. "It took us five long days to get here! What do you want to do, kill the horses? They're exhausted as it is."
"But if we do nothing, she'll die! If it's too much for the horses, perhaps Nightmare can carry her up ahead on his magic skull; or me and Saphira can fly her up to the Varden in time. You could catch up with us in a few days."

Nightmare shook his skull, knowing he couldn't leave them alone without stirring up trouble. He was about to speak when Murtaugh grunted and crossed his arms.
"Of course. Murtaugh the babysitter. Murtaugh the pack animal. Murtaugh the nanny." "What'd he just insinuate?!" Dust snarled. "I should have remembered that's all I'm good for nowadays. Oh, let's not forget, every soldier in the Empire is searching for me now because you couldn't defend yourself, and I had to go and save you. Yes, I suppose I'll just follow your instructions and bring up the horses in the rear like a good servant."

Killer and Dust were pissed whilst Eragon was bewildered. Cross and Horror started holding the pair back as the humans started their own argument.
"What's wrong with you? I'm grateful for what you did. There's no reason to be angry with me! I didn't ask you to accompany me or to rescue me from Gil'ead. You chose that. I haven't forced you to do anything."

"Oh, not openly, no. What else could I do but rescue you? How could I have left with a clear conscience? And the Ra'zac, you needed help sent by the gods above for your precious self to be saved by demigods of magic and death itself from another world! The problem with you," Murtaugh poked Eragon in the chest. "Is that you're so totally helpless you force everyone to take care of you!"

Nightmare frowned as he felt Eragon's pride fall.
"Don't touch me." The Rider growled. The other human laughed harshly. "Or what, you'll punch me? You couldn't hit a brick wall."
He made to shove Eragon again only for him to grab the arm and punch him in the gut. "I said don't touch me!"

As Murtaugh doubled over, Dust wrenched an arm free and punched Cross in the face, breaking the nose cavity and leaving the monochrome skeleton to cover his face in shock.
Now Murtaugh launched himself at Eragon and the humans fell in a tangle of arms and legs.
Killer kicked Horror in the shin, said skeleton doubled over and swore. Cross recovered, healing his broken bone and landing a punch on Dust's ribs. Blue tried yelling at everyone to stop fighting, but to no avail.

Killer pulled out knives while Horror spun his axe with one hand. Dust was attacking Cross with red bones while the black and white dodged and swung his knife, the red slash missing and demolishing several trees behind Dust.
Meanwhile Error watched the scene unfold with a maniacal grin on his face, Blueberry pouting beside him as Nightmare and Saphira shared a look.

The dragon separated the humans and pinned them down as Nightmare changed into his Corrupted form, tentacles lashing out and grabbing Dust and Killer, slamming their skulls together with a painful crack as another slapped the other pair of skeletons. Saphira roared during all of this, the dark King letting her roars punctuate his actions.

"Now is not the time to be fighting like the crass dimwits that couldn't even fight us honorably back home! This is Alagaësia, not the mansion! Quit it, you're not high-strung schoolchildren! Now shut up and cooperate!"
He released them. His team mumbled angrily, but quieted down. The king faced Saphira, who still had the humans under her talons. She was forcing them to talk.
Nightmare took careful note of how cryptic Murtaugh was, how he claimed that the Varden would clap him in irons.

And nothing he did was the matter. He was merely born. It was sort of familiar to Nightmare, in a way he didn't appreciate much, though he decided he'd use it. Later.
For now, Saphira hissed loudly as she drew everyone's attention to the west.

It was a line of troops, hundreds of them, marching eastwards. Their weapons gleamed as the skeletons recognized the greenish figures in the waning light.
"It's fuckin' Urgals." Killer complained.
"How can you tell?" Eragon asked.
"Better sight than yours, obviously." Dust muttered.
"Funny when you're the one with the eyes." Horror joked, causing several of them to snicker.

"That's an Urgal standard, all right." Murtaugh confirmed, pointing at the flag-bearer. "That's the personal symbol of an Urgal chieftain. He's a ruthless brute, given to violent fits and insanity."
"You've met him?" Eragon asked as the others began packing up regretfully.
Murtaugh winced. "Once, briefly. I still have scars from the encounter. These Urgals might not have been sent here for us, but I'm sure that they will follow us. Their chieftain isn't the sort to let a dragon escape his grasp, especially if he's heard about Gil'ead."

Now Eragon kicked dirt over the fire, explaining what they already knew and they needed to flee. He proposed a bargain. Murtaugh follow them until they reach Kóstha-mérna, then they part ways. Nightmare agreed, a little disappointed that Murtaugh had to go but understanding. The human agreed as well.

They were on the move when Horror drifted his Blaster close to Nightmare. He stared at his boss eerily, his thoughts and emotions twisted and convoluted.
"B-boss?" He stuttered.
"Yes, Horror?"
"You can feel it, right Boss?"
"What exactly?" He perked up.
"His... future. And past.."
"I haven't felt anything of his past. What do you detect?"
The creepy skeleton fumbled with his phalanges. Then he looked up, his gaze clear as his mind grew still as a frozen lake.

"ᴡʏʀᴅᴀ... ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ɪꜱ ᴄᴀᴛᴄʜɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ ᴜꜱ ᴀʟʟ, ᴀʟᴀʟËᴀ." He spoke in another voice, his eyelight turning a burnished silver.

"ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴡɪꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜʜᴏʟᴅ ᴋɴᴏᴡʟᴇᴅɢᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴏᴏʀ ꜱᴏᴜʟ. ʜɪꜱ ᴡʏʀᴅᴀ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴅᴀʀᴋ ᴏɴᴇ, ᴀ ᴘᴀᴛʜ ʜᴇ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ, ɴᴏ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ʜᴏᴡ ʜᴇ ᴛʀɪᴇꜱ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴀɪᴛᴏʀᴏᴜꜱ ᴠᴀʟᴅʀ ᴄᴏᴍᴇꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʜɪᴍ, ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪꜱ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴛᴏʀᴍᴇɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴡʜᴇɴ ꜱᴀᴘʜɪʀᴀ'ꜱ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛᴇʀᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱᴇꜱ ʜɪᴍ. ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴ ᴄʟᴏᴜᴅꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ ꜰᴜᴛᴜʀᴇ, ᴅᴇᴀʀ ᴀʟᴀʟËᴀ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴇ ᴘʀᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴋɪɴᴅ ɪꜱ ᴍᴇʀᴄɪꜰᴜʟ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ, Äꜰᴅʀᴀᴜᴍʀ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴀʟ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɴᴅʟÁᴛ-ᴋʏɴ ʜᴀꜱ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇᴅ ᴀʟᴀɢᴀËꜱɪᴀ ꜰᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ... ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ꜱᴘɪʀɪᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴠᴀɴʏᴀʟÍ ᴛʜᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴅᴀᴜᴛʜʟᴇɪᴋʀ ᴀɴᴅ Äʟꜰᴀᴋʏɴ..."
Horror's silver eyelight flickered out, the skeleton falling back onto his Blaster before it vanished, no longer sustained by his magic. Nightmare caught his limp form with a tentacle and placed the Sans on his own dark lazer skull and stared at him thoughtfully.

The mysterious entity that had possessed Horror called him merciful. The idea was rattling. Him? King of Negativity, being called merciful?...
...
Oddly enough, he didn't have it in himself to deny the claim, either. It left him perturbed.
Nightmare pet Horror with a tentacle absentmindedly as he sat back and organized his thoughts.

As the company drove on through the night, skeletons sometimes forcing humans to rest on the Gaster Blasters, Nightmare pondered several things.

Lazily rolling a simple gold crown with a moon cut into the front in his hands.