"W-what? My master?" Aelius said in a shocked voice. Eragon simply nodded at him.

"Yes, I will teach you everything you will need to know in order to save your brother. But, you must swear one thing to me."

"Yes master?"

Eragon looked him dead in the eyes and said, "You mustn't make any rash decisions. I mean this in the case of your brother. If you attempt to go and save him yourself, you will be killed. I will train you so when the time comes and we must fight, you will be able to keep yourself alive and save your family."

The boy looked the slightest bit skeptical and Eragon knew he was pondering whether or not to accept, but in the end he followed his better judgement and agreed. Eragon sighed in relief, running his hand through his hair. It would be less stressful to train the boy knowing he would not try and run into the fray of battle after his brother, seeking revenge.

'Sounds like another young boy I know,' Saphira nudged him with her mind.

'Aye, he does bear some striking resemblances. The elvish name, the desire to seek revenge on an evil entity, even your personalities are similar,' Leora said bringing her nose around to sniff the hair of Aelius. He tensed at her touch but otherwise did not react.

"We will begin immediately," Eragon said, standing and stretching his back. Aelius also leapt to his feet, standing tall and ready to work. Eragon motioned to the entrance to the city and the two began their way to the Varden's camp. Now that the city had been taken, the tents would only be occupied by women, children, and any other necessary workers. They walked in silence across the distance between the city and camp, Aelius shifting nervously every few seconds. Eragon also felt weird, he knew people often stared in awe and treated him as more noble, but he would never become used to the attention. He had never felt like a superior to another person, let alone a teacher. Yet, here he was, reaching out to this boy not much younger than him and agreeing to teach him how to survive. Eragon always knew he would have to train the next generation of riders, if he survived this war, but he never expected it to happen so soon.

They soon reached the tents set up by the Varden, and after weaving through the mass of canvases, they arrived at the blacksmith forge ran by Horst. Eragon walked in, rapping his knuckles on a stretch of wood to announce his presence. He heard the pounding of an anvil just beyond a stretch of canvas and knew Horst was indeed their.

"Be out in just a moment," the gruff voice of the blacksmith called. Eragon did not respond but instead turned to Aelius, who was looking around in wonder.

"Today I will be testing you abilities. Nothing strenuous, but I wish to know your capabilities. We are here to find a sword that will fit you well. After that we will do a short amount of sparring," Eragon said, looking around the forge. Soon, the sound of metal on metal stopped and was replaced by the sound of footsteps. Horst stepped around the corner, his hand stroking his beard which had received a fresh char mark. A large chunk was missing and Eragon could still see the hair smoldering. Even the smell reached his sensitive nose and he couldn't help blinking the odor away.

"Ho there Eragon!" The blacksmith called, a large smile spreading across his face as he embraced Eragon quickly. Eragon also smiled, old memories from Carvahall washing over him. But, he had to push away his nostalgia and focus on Aelius.

"What can I do for you my boy?" Horst said, the grin still plastered on his face.

"Not so much for me but for my apprentice. Horst," Eragon said gesturing to the boy behind him, "this is Aelius. I need to find a sword that will serve him well."

Horst grunted the turned to Aelius, "Have you ever used a sword before, boy?"

Aelius quickly shook his head. "No sir, I've only had one on my person during our escape. I never had to fight with it, but when I held it, the sword seemed a bit too big."

Horst nodded before continuing on. "Was it too large in length or width?"

"I'm not sure, sir."

Horst nodded thoughtfully, continuing to run his fingers through his beard. Finally, he glanced around the forge and gestured for them to follow. They did so immediately, making quick strides through the make-shift forge.

Horst led them to a section of wall filled with weapons. He had spears, maces, swords, daggers, and even a few bow and arrows. His sword selection wasn't as large as Eragon had hoped, but it would due for his purpose at the moment.

Horst removed a sword from the wall, it was large even by Eragon's standards. The blade width dwarfed Brisingr's and even it's length was outrageous. Aelius took the hilt warily, but immediately, the sword swing towards the ground. He barely managed to keep it from hitting the ground, but even then his arms trembled. Aelius shook his head frantically, unable to utter a word as Horst took the sword back and placed it in its spot. Next, he removed a short blade, but once again, it was wider and more blunt. Before Aelius even took the blade, he knew it would not match his style. Sword fighting was about grace, but this sword would require more brute strength than most, which would not be a good pick for Aelius. Nonetheless, Eragon held his tongue as once more, the boy took the sword then handed it back.

Horst continued with shorter blades, slowly diminishing the width, but finally Eragon's curiosity won over. "Try the long blade."

Horst looked at him, determination filling his eyes as he also nodded in understanding. Reaching up, the blacksmith removed a sleek sword, long and thin. Eragon smiled, sensing they had finally found a match for the young novice. As Aelius took the blade in his hand, his semi-frustrated look turned into one of fascination. He swung the blade around, pretending to block blows and stab invisible enemies.

When he was satisfied, he turned to Eragon and said, "it is a little longer than I would prefer, but the width is perfect and I feel this is the closest we will get for now."

"Aye," Horst said, "not many in the Varden require slim swords, so I am quite short in stock when it comes to those. If you would wish, I would be willing to make you a sword to match your fighting style."

Aelius looked shocked, his mouth dropping open in awe. Eragon quickly spoke up, "Horst, you do not need to do that. I'm sure the Varden has you performing far more important duties."

Horst quickly waved his hand, "It is the least I can do. Trust me, it will be no burden and I must insist on making a perfect fit for the young lad."

Eragon nodded, knowing there was no way to change the smith's mind. Horst smiled once more, his beard lifting by his mouth, before hustling around, retrieving instruments of measurement. Eragon began to lose focus in the events transpiring as instead he focused on activity outside of the tent. His interest began to peak when he realized something crucial.

There was no activity outside of the tent.

Furrowing his brows, Eragon went to walk out when a cold tingle ran down his spine. No matter how many of the Varden had entered the city, there was always movement in the camp, whether it was farmers tending their herd or mothers scolding their children. But instead Eragon herd dead silence.

He turned to Horst who had just finished measurements and quickly strides towards them. Not making a sound Eragon held his finger up to his lips, telling the two to keep quiet. They looked confused, but complied. Drawing Brisingr, Eragon walks towards the entrance of the forge, not yet stepping out, but preparing to discover what was happening.

With a deep breath, he launched himself out into the dirt, holding Brisingr at the ready. But he is only met with empty paths and complete silence. No enemies, and no danger. Until the scream ripped through the air.

Before he could realize what he was doing, Eragon was sprinting towards the sound. It had sounded like it had come from a row of tents just in front of him, and he did not have to search long to find the source. Or the previous source.

The scene in front of him made Eragon's head spin. Bodies laid upon the ground, blood seeping from deadly wounds. Woman and children and few men were dying or dead and the murderers were admiring their work. Eragon clenched his teeth in rage, unable to look upon the corpses.

The culprits wore a black uniform with the symbol of the Empire woven in red thread on their chest and arm. How they had gotten in unnoticed, Eragon did not know. Yet the camp had gone silent at their presence. He had no time to ponder their arrival, though, he had to dispose of them before they caused any more pain or destruction.

The ten men turned towards him, their eyes glinting evilly at their deeds. Eragon lifted Brisingr and charged, angling towards the man closest to him. A daunting grin slid across the man's face as he lifted a curved blade with a ridged edge at the tip of the sword. Eragon prepared to swing at the man when he heard a sound behind him of footsteps.

Just before reaching the man closest to him, Eragon turned his head to see Aelius racing along behind him. A flutter of panic went through his chest as he realized the boy was going to get himself killed.

'Saphira! Leora! I need you!' Eragon called to them as the man struck at his neck during his moment of distraction. Eragon only just brought his blade up and stopped the blow before it made contact.

The man got a confident gleam in his grey eyes, but it ended quickly as overconfidence became his downfall. With one quick swipe, Eragon beheaded the man before turning to Aelius.

The boy was not experienced in the sword, that much was clear from watching him. He had foolishly charged in and tried to take on one of the killers. Instead of landing a blow, he was put on the defense, somehow managing to keep his guard up and sloppily deflect the blows. Before his luck could run out, Eragon stepped forward and stabbed the man in the gut, taking a cheap shot but saving the boy's life.

"Aelius, leave now. You are not prepared for this. You will only get yourself killed," Eragon growled under his breath as the next three men stepped up towards him.

"I want to help!" Aeilus responded as the first of the three men struck towards Eragon. His blow was quickly knocked aside, leaving an opening in his defense. Eragon quickly exploited it and watched the man's body drop to the ground.

"Is that what your brother would want? To see yourself foolishly killed? As your master, I am ordering you to stand down!" Eragon said through gritted teeth as the next fiend stepped up and began to duel him. This man was smarter, he kept himself on the defense, knowing Eragon was much quicker than he. But, even with his cautious fighting style, Eragon still managed to slip past his guard. With a sharp flick of Brisingr, then man's sword was sent tumbling, and Eragon sent a stab directly between his ribs.

As Eragon turned his body swiftly to take down the last of the three who stepped up to attack him, a shout down the row of tents caught him off guard. He whirled his head towards the noise, fearing the murderers had received reinforcements, but instead was shocked to see a small group of men crashing in to the remaining five men. They were men of the Varden.

Horst lead the group, brandishing a large hammer from his forge. The rest were unknown to Eragon, but it did not matter at the moment. If they kept them busy, the better for him. He turned back to his closest opponent. But he had made a deadly mistake.

In his distracted state, the man did not try to attack Eragon, but decided to strike at him in a different way. With his sword pressed against Aelius's neck, the man in black held the boy in front of him, giving Eragon no openings to slip in to. Because of his curiosity and distraction, Eragon had placed Aelius in danger.

The man with his sword at the boy's neck had a cruel smile on his face as he backed up the row of tents, hauling Aelius with him. With every step, Eragon followed, holding Brisingr at the ready. Aelius's eyes darted back and forth in fear, and Eragon's guilt was beginning to overwhelm him. If the boy were to die because of him-

'Stop thinking like that,' he scolded himself, 'you are going to get him out of this.'

The man began to laugh, snapping Eragon out of his thoughts. "Now, yer going to let me go now, yeh hear? Otherwise this boy here dies."

Eragon gave no sign of hearing the man. Instead he just narrowed his eyes. But, as he came to a revelation, a slight smile slowly spread across his face.

Muttering one of the deadly words of the Ancient Language under his breath, Eragon waits for the man to drop dead on the ground, but is frustrated to discover the wards placed around him. There would be no easy way out of his predicament. Instead, he gripped his sword harder and continued to follow the man backwards.

Suddenly, a shadow passed over the top of them, and he could sense Leora and Saphira diving in for the kill. But, the man also noticed the sudden darkness and readjusted the sword. Eragon's mind began to move quicker than his body as he realized that this man would kill Aelius before Leora or Saphira could land. And he was about to make the fatal blow.

He began to draw his sword across Aelius's neck, and a small bead of blood appeared, but before the cut could become deadly, the man immediately stopped the move not of his sword. His whole body suddenly tensed as his sword clattered against the ground, his body soon followed.

He landed face down in the dirt as a small throwing knife protruded from base of his neck where his spine began. Aelius quickly grabbed at his neck, his eyes widening at the sight of his blood on his hand. But, Eragon was focused on the figure behind the boy. Eragon could not help shaking his head at the herbalist.

"Angela, you always seem to show up at the most interesting times," Eragon commented. She simply smiled at him as Solembum padded forward on large paws.

"Life wouldn't be fun without a few fights," she said also walking forward and pulling out her blade from the mans back, "What else would I do in my free time?"

Smiling knowingly, Eragon continued, "How are the toads coming along?"

Angela scoffed, cleaning the blood off of her blade, "The frogs are indeed frogs, and now I will be able to sit back and watch my plan unfold."

"Which would be?"

She just smiled and winked at him before turning and walking away. Solembum looked up at him, the tufts of his ears twitching ever so slightly. He smiled, baring his pointed teeth, before setting off after the herbalist, his tail waggling in the air.

Putting his hands on his back, Eragon stretches backwards, letting a long sigh escape his lips. Saphira and Leora land hard on the ground, causing the earth to tremble from their shear power. He could not help rolling his eyes at their dramatic entrance. But, the scuffle was finished. The group of men from the Varden had disposed of the rest of the murderers, and only their bloodied corpses remained.

But, Eragon could not help looking upon their victims when he glanced at their lifeless bodies. The faces of the women and children stared up at the sky in terror, despite not being able to feel emotions ever again. Eragon could not stand to look upon them, and turned his head away, instead focusing on a more pressing subject.

"Aelius."

The blond boy pushed some of his hair out of his face. "Yes master?"

Eragon had never had to reprimand someone, and he started to feel his face heat up. He could not have been but a year or two older than him, yet here he stood, feeling like an elder.

Sighing, Eragon looked into his green eyes and said, "What were you thinking, boy? You could have gotten yourself killed because of your actions."

Closing his eyes, Aelius mumbled, "I'm sorry Master."

Eragon looked behind him where Saphira stood tall and proud. A part of him wanted to simply accept the boys apology and move on in their days training, but the other part knew that he would be a terrible master if he did so. Sighing, he reached his mind out to Saphira. Like always, she presented to him a reasonable answer.

'Deal with the boy later, there are more pressing issues to attend to at the moment. Even though he was reckless, his heart was in the right place. Perhaps you should let his actions go unpunished.'

'I feel irresponsible doing so, but you are right.'

Eragon turned back to Aelius and said, "Do not be so reckless again or harsher consequences will be the result."

"Yes Master," he responded, a thankful gleam in his eyes. Eragon nodded then strode to where Horst stood, waiting for him.

"Any clue how they made it so far inside the camp?" Horst asked him, looking down in disgust at the perpetrators.

"None. They bear the Empire's symbol so they work for Galbatorix," Eragon said kicking some dust up with his foot, "But how they managed to sneak inside unnoticed is beyond-"

He was cut off by the shout of, "Shadeslayer!" and turned to see a young boy running towards him, horror etched into his expression.

Without waiting to catch his breath the boy began speaking in panting tones, "Nasuada sent me to fetch you- but when I arrived- the watchmen- the gate nearest to the city- are slain!"

Eragon's eyes widened. "How were they killed boy?"

"They were both stabbed in the chest by knives. These knives."

The young messanger held up two blades with ragged edges. They were identical to the assassins' swords. The metal was covered in blood but it did not hide the symbol etched into the side. The symbol of the Empire.

"Thank you, I will bring this up with Nasuada. You should be proud, you carried both messages well," Eragon says, tightening his grip on the knife. The messenger allowed a small smile to spread across his face before scampering off away from the bodies.

Eragon turned back to Horst and said, "I best be off. I will leave them," he gestured at the murderers' bodies, "to you. Come along Aelius."

He turned around and strode down the small path between tents, taking care not to step on any corpses. Aelius was not as lucky and ended up tripping over a leg, landing flat on a bloodied body. He quickly scrambled to his feet and Eragon noticed a green tinge to his face and a squeamish look in his eye. On his tunic were several blood spots but Eragon decided not to point that out to the boy. Looking down at himself, he noticed several stains in the tan tunic he wore. He would have to change later.

Instead, he focused on the horrifying moment that had just come to pass. He could see Aelius visibly trembling for the experience, and he couldn't blame the boy. He may have only been a year or two older than Aelius, but in his years he had seen more, done more, experienced more.

"We will test your abilities as soon as we finish this brief meeting," Eragon reassured him, trying to take his mind off the carnage.

"We?" Aelius responded, turning his green eyes on him. As Eragon continued to look at them, he began to think they were more of a greenish-blue, not pure green.

"Yes, we. Are you ready to meet the Leader of the Varden?"

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

AN: THIS CHAPTER TOOK WAY TOO LONG, BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT ANYWAYS! I REALLY DONT HAVE MUCH TO SAY AT THE MOMENT BUT PLEASE....

READ/COMMENT/VOTE

THANKA YOUUU

~Britt