Slowly winging their way back towards Nasuada and her guards, Eragon surveys the damage from Saphira's back. It looks even worse from the air. The fighting had stopped completely as people of the Varden expressed their sorrow. The wall was a barren landscape of wood and other debris. Along the edge, Eragon noticed some people dragging themselves out of the loose rubble, but there was no movement in the middle. On the left side towards the front of the wall sat a large charred part of debris that was still smoking, leaving a deep indent of the pieces of wood, making him realize just how far under he was.

Landing with a bone jarring *THUMP*, Saphira drops down straight in front of Nasuada, Leora following close behind. Even from as high up as he was, Eragon could see the tear tracks staining Nasuada's face.

As soon as he dropped onto the ground, stumbling from weakness, all pretense of her professional air vanished as she ran forward and engulfed him in a hug that pushed the breath out of his chest.

"Oh Eragon!", she sobbed into his shoulder as he patter her back comfortingly, "I thought, I don't know, you almost died! I'm so sorry!"

"It's ok Nasuada, I'm fine-"

"But the rest of the Varden isn't!", she said stepping back, quickly wiping the fallen tears away, "so many people... gone! I should just step dow-"

But she stopped after a sharp glare from Eragon. He was going to reprimand her but Saphira beat him to it.

'Nasuada. Do you want to cause chaos and disorder? For that is what will happen to the Varden if you were to step down. The war would be lost, and everyone here would either be killed or forced into slavery. Is that what you want your legacy to be? When our story is told, do you want to be the leader that took the biggest gamble in the history of Alagaësia, and then when one thing went wrong, stepped down and let the rest of the army slowly perish?'

Her words had an immediate effect on Nasuada. Her eyes went wide and she took a quick intake of breath, before closing her eyes and sighing, "no, of course not. You're right I was just being stupid and letting the grief get to my head. I need to be strong for the Varden."

'Exactly', Saphira replied smugly, shifting her wings and puffing out her chest slightly. Eragon, even after everything that had happened, chuckled slightly, shaking his head. Even Nasuada cracked a small smile at the show of Saphira's pride.

"Now! Far far too much time has been spent doing nothing while the enemy prepares for out next move! Jörmundor, rally the men! Get them moving and fire them up! Make them want to punish the monster that have done this to us!", Nasuada shouted, acting strong though Eragon could still hear the sorrow and self-doubt in her voice.

'Anger and grief are not always bad things in battle', Leora says privately to him, 'it makes a fire in your belly that makes you want to rip, tear, and fight until there is nothing left, or you die.'

He says nothing, but instead nods slightly. He knew it was true, for if Roran had been under there, he would kill every soldier in the walls, and only the innocent people that lived there would have stopped him from burning the place to the ground.

"Yes M' Lady!" Jörmundor says before hurrying off through the people, shouting out to the people to raise their morale. In the eyes of many of the men, Eragon could see a want, no, a need, to avenge the lives of the people under the wall that were lost. He could feel it too, rising in the pit of his stomach. A white hot rage that needed to be sated.

'Shall we help rally the men?', Eragon asks slyly to the two dragons in front of him.

In answer to his question, the silver of Leora's scales glow brighter than the sun and she let's loose an unnaturally loud roar that echoed over every single rank and into the city. There was no way that someone could not hear her roar. As the last ring of it died out, there was a moment of complete and utter silence before cheering and war cries started breaking out in both sides of the Varden, along with groans from inside the wall. The Varden was ready for battle

"I think that did the trick", Eragon mumbled playfully.

'Yes, now let us go and taste the blood of our enemies', Leora growls with much venom in her voice before taking off into the sky. Climbing back onto Saphira, she does the same as the Varden resumed there attack of the wall and door to the city. Even though there was a large whole in the wall from where it fell, the Varden would never be able to cross over the landscape. They would become easy targets to archers as they stumbled over the dangerous terrain, laden with weapons as they were. So the only way in was the door.

'Eragon, you are weak', the voice of Glaedr said, bursting into his mind, 'you cannot fight in this condition', Eragon starts to protest until the great dragon goes on, saying, 'take this, it should help.' And slowly, a small trickle of energy started to seep into his body, strengthening his limbs and stopping the subtle way his hands shook.

'Thank you Glaedr-elda', Eragon says in response as the great dragon faded away.

Saphira circled over the men for a moment before swooping over the wall and diving down to the door, Leora following close behind. As soon as they landed, the soldiers around them swarmed to circle the two dragons, but they were not giving up that easily. Saphira snapped up three men with her jaws in the blink of an eye as Leora started billowing flames out her maw, causing soldiers around her to drop to the ground and scramble to try and stop the fire from burning their skin. Not wanting to be left out of the action, Eragon drops to the ground once more and pulls Brisingr out of its sheath. He quickly rips it through a soldier right in front of him, showing no mercy in response to the people who have died in such a cruel way. Moving on to the next man, he beheads him, before stabbing the person to his left in the chest. Both drop to the ground immeadiately.

He turns to go to the next, when he feels something grab at his ankle, he jumps back and sees half a man; the first person he had sliced through. Without thinking he shouts, "Brisingr!", causing his sword to burst into flames, before stabbing it straight in the half-man's head. He stopped moving immediately.

'They are the Laughing Dead!', Eragon shouts to Saphira and Leora before beheading the soldier charging at him.

'Not all...', Saphira responds, motioning at the soldier that he had simply stabbed, which moved no more.

'No matter, we still must treat them like they all are!', Leora says as she swipes her razor claws at a soldier poking at her with a spear.

But reinforcements were coming quickly and they would need the help of the Varden if they were going to win the battle. 'Cover me, I'm making a break for the entrance!', Eragon shouts out before cutting down two soldiers and pushing through them and sprinting for the door.

There were two soldiers standing guard in front of the entrance, to protect it from exactly what Eragon was planning to do. He quickly killed them both, made sure they were dead, then took his flaming sword and cut through the restraints holding the Varden back. As the last fell away, he could feel some of the energy Glaedr gave him drain away. Luckily, he had been able to amass some energy of his own since he has been up and walking, so this would not be much of a loss.

The final bits of charred wood lands on the ground, causing bits of dust to fly around his shoes, as the large doors into the city swing open. At first, the Varden is shocked and no one moves! as if wondering if this was a trap. But, slowly at first, war cries began to ripple throughout the masses and they begin to charge forward. Eragon twists around and charges with them into the tiny city.

They begin to cut down the soldiers immeadiately. Apparently they had been warned of the Laughing Dead already, for most of their blows were to the head. At least they were warned.

As the large hoard of the army makes it back to the two dragons, Eragon spots them. On the far end of the square. Three people with their hands straight down beside them, their lips moving inaudibly and their bodies swaying slightly. In his gut, he knew those were the magicians that caused the wall to fall.

Ignoring the groups of soldiers that had just appeared out of nowhere, Eragon pushes through the masses, cutting down people in red uniforms as he went, trying his hardest, with his blood pounding in his ears, to make it to the three despicable people and sever their heads from their bodies.

It took less effort than he thought to make it through the large group of fighting bodies, but he paid it no mind as he charged straight at the three figures. He did not make the run unnoticed. About halfway to them, all three opened their eyes, smiled evilly, and bolted down the street to their right.

In his mind, he could feel Saphira trying to get to him, but he was so focused on the task ahead of him that he quickly brushed her away. He needed to do this, he needed their blood. For the blood of so many lives they stole away.

They already had the head start on him though. As Eragon flew around the corner, he only saw the tails of their cloaks flicking around the next street. He knew he could keep up with them with his speed, there was no way they could out run him, but as he came around the next street, they were gone. Before thinking things through, he curses out loud, until he realizes he could just search for their minds.

Extending his thoughts in all directions, Eragon quickly senses the three minds shielding themselves and turns to his left. A door blocks his view from where they would be standing and, bracing himself, he prepares to burst through the door.

The door didn't resist, like he expected it would, but instead swung open on freshly oiled hinges. Stumbling forward, attempting to keep his balance, Eragon quickly regains his footing and stands completely still as the door snaps shut. All light is drowned away except for a beam falling in through a thin window. Even with his enhanced vision, he had trouble seeing. Everything was complete and utter silence. Eragon could hear nothing, not even the battle going on outside. Nothing. It was too quiet.

Taking his hand and bringing it up to his ear, he slowly rubs his fingers, listening for the soft scratch of his skin. He heard absolutely nothing. His hearing was gone. The three magicians lured him in here and most have placed a spell on him, which was highly possible with his wards down.

Chanting under his breath, he quickly mumbles a sentence in the Ancient Language to reduce the spell placed on his hearing. It falls away quickly, something he was not expecting at all. If they put so much effort into bringing down the wall, why couldn't they keep up a simple deafening spell?

And the answer became clear as all at once, the three minds started to attack. Putting his hands up to his head and kneeling on the ground, Eragon starts to recite the poem Oromis had taught him as he attempted to keep the three minds from breaking through his barrier.

Distantly, he heard a deep male voice say, "you've fallen right into our trap foolish rider."

"We knew you would pursue us blindly after we fell the wall", another voice, female this time, said in a triumphant snarl, "to attempt to sate your revenge."

"And now here you are, at our mercy", said the final voice, male again but less deep. And the speaker became clear as he stalked towards Eragon, a long curved blade held in his left hand.

Slowly standing up, Eragon also draws his sword, taking care not to slip up in his defense. He would not go down without a fight. He now realized how stupid he had been. How he'd let his anger take over. Why hadn't he contacted Saphira or Leora before he was trapped in a situation he could not escape.

"I will never be at your mercy", Eragon spits out, venom tainting every word. His defiance would never end, until the day he died.

"Oh rider, you think I'm going to try and kill you. No, we have orders to bring you in or die trying."

"Then die!", he shouts out. Lunging forward and jabbing his sword straight at his chest. The man makes no attempt to move but instead shouts out, "Letta du Shur'tugal!"

His sword slides smoothly into the mans chest, breaking through bone, straight to his heart. But that's where it stops. His whole body freezes, unable to move an inch. Fortunately it doesn't last as it's caster breathes his last breath and falls to the floor. Standing back up straight he sees the two others staring at him in shock and notices they have stopped their mental attack. The man let's out a pained snarl as he charges blindly at Eragon, in total rage.

But, he lasts just as long as the last. With on slash of the mans sword, Eragon ducks under his outstretched arm and slits his throat. From being so confident before, Eragon thought they would have been better fighters. The woman was more cautious. She stalked in slow, her eyes wide in what Eragon thought might be fear. Her sword was strange too, with both edges serrated like a hunting knife.

When she strikes, it's quick like a viper, aiming for his right hip. He blocks it, then another blow to his shoulder. She was smarter than the rest. A better swordsman.

They exchanged blows for a while before she finally slipped up. He pressed his blade firmly against her throat, preparing to drag it across and kill her, but then she spoke.

"You will not win. You may think you have succeeded now, but soon enough you will reach your demise."

"You are not in the position to talk, for it seems you have underestimated me. Big mistake."

She laughed evilly, something he had not expected to come out of her mouth, for she was exceptionally pretty, then she said triumphantly, "you still don't get it do you? You still think you have won. Sure you will kill me and you have killed my brothers. And the Varden will take the city. But in the end who has suffered the greatest loss? Not our king. We killed a whole segment of your warriors. I did that! I have won! I killed them all-"

She did not get to finish her sentence as Eragon cut open her throat, blind with rage. Her body dropped to the ground but he heard nothing as the blood pounded through his ears. Looking down at his hands, all he saw was blood as they trembled with rage. Too much blood. The blood of those under the wall. All gone.

He trudged back outside and was blinded by the amount of light that flooded his eyes. Collapsing to the ground on the edge of the street, he puts his head in his hands and breathes a sigh of grief. He could not stand to think of the nameless people who's lives were lost so pointlessly.

He did not have much time to reminisce, as the sound of wings reach his ears and he looks up to see a large purple dragon land in front of him. She lowered herself down and stared at him with her large silver eyes.

'I got held up in a group of soldiers, what happened?', she asked worriedly. After everything that happened, he was even surprised when a grave laugh escaped his lips.

'Not much, just dueled three sorcerors. It was nothing.'

Letting loose a puff of smoke, Eragon could tell that she was amused by his comment, but wasn't sure if he was going to be scolded for his rash actions. But was once again surprised by her comment.

'Impressive. I think it is safe to assume that they were the same ones to bring down the wall?'

'Yes', he answered back, his anger starting to resurface once more at the mention of the action.

'Did you make them pay?', she says just as low and full of rage. And as she said it, he realized that they honestly did not pay for their crimes. In fact, their deaths were quick and almost painless.

'No. They did not', Eragon says resentfully, standing up and glaring at nothing in particular. Just mad at himself for not avenging those who died.

To his surprise, Leora let's out a deep rumble and says slightly amused, 'well there are plenty of soldiers left. I'm sure their lives will be satisfying at the moment.'

Eragon had never been one who reveled in killing, but the offer was just too tempting. They may not have brought down the wall themselves, but these soldiers had been in on the plan. They needed to pay.

'Lets go', he said darkly, climbing up her side and onto her bare back. As she took off into the sky, he remembered with a heavy heart, the first time he had ever rode on Saphira. She was slightly smaller, but she had not had a saddle on then either.

The ride was quick and they landed loudly in the square within seconds. Leora was right, there was still many soldiers, and now the battles had spread out as multiple bodies lay on the dusty ground. Eragon was glad to see most of them were in red uniforms.

Jumping off Leora's back, Eragon has his sword drawn and is in the fury of battle, engaged in the deadly dance of the fight. In most battles, if a soldier decided to not fight, Eragon would allow them to surrender and become war prisoners, but today was different. He cut down person after person, never giving them a chance of mercy. With his inhuman speed, it was definitely an unfair fight.

Any soldier, whether tall or short, armed or unarmed, he took them out. After one moment, when Eragon beheaded a soldier after he had disarmed him, he was reminded forcefully of when Murtagh had killed Torkenbrand. He had been so against it then, but now all he felt was the satisfaction of avenging one more lost soul.

After slashing out at another nameless soldier, a hand on his shoulder causes him to spin around, his face set in a snarl and Brisingr about to lodge itself in its next victim.

But instead of another soldier, in front of him stood Arya, and on her face set a look of concern. Just seeing her calmed the rage burning in his heart.

"Eragon! This is not you! Remember who you are. The ones who have died here today would not want you to lose yourself in anger. Are you here to avenge or take revenge?"

This causes him to pause. Even with the battle raging around him, Eragon stopped and realized she was right. His grief and anger still raged inside him, but he could not drown himself in it. He needed to be strong for the Varden's sake.

Eragon says nothing, but instead nods back, his eyes unfocused, staring into the distance. She seems to understand, and gives his shoulder a squeeze before rushing back into the fray. Something about that encounter had unnerved him.

He couldn't help but feel he was changing himself in his anger. Arya was right, he needed to avenge the Varden, not take revenge.

He couldn't help but feel that he was turning into Murtagh.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

AN: HELLO EVERYONE! IM REALLY GLAD FOR THE NEW SCHEDULE UPDATING BECAUSE THIS BOOK WAS WAYYYYYYYY OVERDUE FOR AN UPDATE!!!!!!

also on another note (yes in lower case!) I have to announce the winner of the writing contest I held!!!!!! THE WINNER WAS MissMythoMagic AND HER AMAZING PERCY JACKSON FANFICTION!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVED THIS BOOK BECAUSE I HADNT READ THE ACTUAL SERIES AND I LOVED THIS BOOK! AND IT HAS INSPIRED ME TO READ THE SERIES :) SOOOOOO PLEASE GO AND CHECK IT OUT!!!!!!!!!

And the second place winner was LydiaSparrow and her book Luiden. It is also an Eragon Fanfiction and she has been an amazing fan who is comments all the time on both my Fanfictions! I always look forward to her comments! So check hers out too!

Don't forget to.....

READ/COMMENT/VOTE

THANKA YOUUU

~Bert