Chapter 14

'My mind is a dangerous place to wander around in miss elf.'

Arya felt startled by the voice she heard. It was very deep and somber. Maybe even a bit sad. But as sober as it was, it contained power. Just that sentence alone felt heavy on her conscience. She felt if she kept trying to have a mental battle with this man it wouldn't end well… So she decided she could at least converse with him and see what he wanted. She hadn't felt any malice from him if that was any consolation.

'Who- no WHAT are you exactly?'

'I am Eragon and I am a Dragon Rider. And if the situation continues smoothly I will soon be your rescuer.'

His words wrung in her mind. He had spoken in the ancient language to try to help alleviate the tension. And while his words had their desired effect he could feel she still had her guard up.

Still she did as he did in responding in the ancient language also. 'Why are you rescuing me O'Dragon rider, as you know of the Shade nearby?'

'Aye, I know of the shade. I'm to fight him while my companion Brom uses the fight as cover to escape with you.'

'Your companion's name is … Brom?'

'Yes, you sound as if you know him.'

'I might. Can you describe him for me?'

'An old man with a white beard and silver hair. He always carries a staff with him.' As he said that he transmitted an image of him to her.

For a brief moment he could feel a multitude of emotions from her. Surprise, hope, and then he could feel the tension build again.

'I do know Brom, for a good while now in fact. But I must warn you, however strong you think the shade is wrong. He is stronger than that. He overpowered me easily and captured me. So be-'

'Enough.'

'You need not waste any energy worrying about me. You're the one we need to worry about right now. I can tell you're halfway dead. So just relax, if you have anything you need to explain, explain it to Brom.'

With that he cut off their mental connection. With a few swift strokes, he cut the shackles on her wrist, gently catching her as she started to fall toward the ground.

Once he had her in his grasp, he flexed his leg muscles before leaping, landing beside Brom.

"We had a conversation. She said her name was Arya and that she knew you. I'd take this time to catch up with her and try to figure out what happened for her to end up in this situation."

The elderly man's eyes turned dark and he put the relatively light elf on his back. His thoughts were in shambles as he assessed the gravity of the situation.

'The elven princess has been captured and tortured for how long exactly? Her mother must be distraught, knowing the only family she has left is missing.'

He looked back at his young protege, before slipping into an alleyway.

'Please be safe my son.'

-x-x-x-x-x-

Eragon felt as Brom and Arya got further and further away from him before he fell back into the hole. Taking out his twin blades he began to stretch and get his body loose. Looking from an outsider's perspective, you would think he was surprisingly calm for someone who could be about to die. But to him, even if he couldn't kill the shade he was confident he could escape if the situation turned dire.

Finishing he stretches, everything from his wrist all the way up to his swords turned black with a crimson tint. He began looking around thinking of something that could cause a ruckus. He then realized he was simply overthinking it. He turned to the wall next to him and gave it a good punch.

BOOOM!

The building shook as it took the full force of the punch. And as he'd hoped, his punch was very effective in quickly gathering the attention of everyone in the building, including the shade. But it just wasn't limited to the building; every soldier in the vicinity was quick to react. Each trying to find the source of the startling boom.

With the second part done, he began making his way up through the building. Running directly into a squad of soldiers heading his direction.

They immediately recognized him as a threat, taking into account the two swords he was holding. After a brief moment of silence one soldier led the charge, drawing his blade and dashing forward, with his companions following.

Eragon didn't even entertain the idea of sparing anyone. His attacks were concise to say the least.

With the first soldier slashing at him, Eragon ended it prematurely. He cut the man's hand off at the wrist with a small slash. Before the man could even let out a scream his head found itself separated from its body.

With the situation quickly turning for the worse for the empire's soldiers, it quickly got worse. Using the now dead man's body as cover, he slashed horizontally, bisecting the body while also cutting through the two men who were coming from behind it.

The last three soldiers finally noticed the danger as the departure of their companions had all happened within a few seconds at most. They scrambled backwards trying to reassess the situation.

But their blood would soon stain the floors like the people before them as in the instance they went backwards, Eragon seemingly defied gravity stepping onto the wall and pounced forward. The cobblestone wall cracked as he stepped off. He flew past the three, spinning mid flight, hacking through them like he'd done the first half of their group.

Without pause he continued forward at a casual pace leaving behind the contents of his small skirmish. While many words could be used to describe it, one would suffice.

Brutal.

That's all that was needed to sum it up. Not a single body on the ground was whole. Each left in a different amount of pieces. Blood stained the halls and floors alike, with guts of soldiers spilling out onto the floor. Even a veteran of war would find the scene nauseating.

Continuing up he walked into a banquet room. The room was filled with broad wooden tables. Shields lined the walls, and the wood ceiling was trussed with curved beams.

He ignored all of this though as he walked out of the banquet room into a hallway. He eventually found himself in a small room. While the room had an assortment of weapons none of that caught his attention. It was the strange bow and elegant looking sword that did.

From a quick glance he could tell their quality was exponentially better than anything in this room. It only took a few seconds for him to connect the dots and figure out these were most likely Arya's weapons.

After finding a way to fasten them to himself he began to backtrack until he was back in the banquet room. Unlike when he first entered the room wasn't empty anymore.

Ting! Ting! Ting!

"We found the intruder, he's in the chow hall!" Of the sounded off trying to bring reinforcements

He easily deflected the arrows aimed at him. Deciding to return the favor he grabbed one of the tables edges and tossed it at the archers at one of the rooms entrances causing the soldiers moving forward to duck, narrowly avoiding getting close lined. Two of the three archers were done in by the projectile while the last jumped out the way living for a few moments longer before being bullseye in the forehead by the same arrow he'd shot. As for the group of swordsmen, they experienced the same treatment, with the third falling to his blade due to him running out of arrows.

After clearing the room he just stood there staring at the main entrance. Why you might ask? Because he could sense the main attraction was on his way. And like they say good things come to those who wait. But thinking about it he wouldn't really call the creature in front of him a "good" thing.

The man was tall, with crimson hair and maroon eyes. His face was deathly white, with the appearance of a death mask or a polished skull that had its skin pulled back to give the appearance of life. His body was thin and compact, like that of a runner, though Eragon could sense as thin as he looked he felt the shade's body was quite strong. He wore a blood red cape. With his narrow lips pulled back in a savage grin, showing a mouthful of teeth that were filed to points. In his hand he held a somewhat inconspicuous looking sword with a thin scratch on the flat of the blade.

"You've made me wait a long time, dragon rider."

-x-x-x-x-x-

Brom heard a dull boom behind him as he began retracing his path back towards the wall. He could hear the steady thud of boots as dozens of soldiers began running back towards where he left Eragon, looking to investigate the source of the sound.

But he wasn't truly focused on the environment around him. His mind was racing as he tried to piece together what the hell had happened.

In his arms was an elf, which was already very rare as people hadn't seen elves since they cut themselves off from the world following the fall of the riders. But this elf wasn't just some unknown one. No, it was the princess of the elven kingdom. How did he know this exactly?

It was because he was a good friend of the elven queen Islanzadí. Even the ring on his hand was a gift from said queen. While most people saw elves as mythical creatures, Brom knew otherwise. Because he had personally fought with them shoulder to shoulder in the Rider war many years ago against Galbatorix and the thirteen Forsworn.

He used to be a rider himself back then. USED TO BE, as his dragon Saphira was killed at the beginning of the war by members of the Forsworn. From then on he dedicated his life to fighting with everything he had. Helping end the last of several of the Forsworn. Going so far as to kill the last living Forsworn, Morzan and his dragon.

And through this war he'd made friends with the elven royal family. Their friendship was so close the Queen had personally gifted him a ring. Aren was the name of an elven ring, embedded with a sapphire. Etched into the sapphire was the elven symbol Yawë[1]. A symbol that indicated a bond of trust.

That's why he was left confused when Eragon had said the elfs' name was Arya. His mind couldn't process the thought of the Princess being captured. That was until he saw her face. Which made his mind go blank. It WAS Arya. This had sent him into deep thought trying to figure out how.

He eventually gave up on the thought.*Sigh* "It doesn't matter, I can hear the story from the source when I get out of this accused fortress."

Yawë[1]Yawë is a glyph in the Liduen Kvaedhí, or the Poetic Script, which is the elves' written form of the Ancient Language.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Authors Note: Been thinking of starting a fan fic based in My Hero Academia. The main character would have the appearance of Satoru Gojo From Jujutsu Kaisen, but have the powers of Isshiki Ōtsutsuki from Naruto, albeit slightly modified.