Chapter 21

The sun dips below the mountains, casting shadows over the battlefield. Torches and lamps are placed along the battlements, making the shadows even more defined and threatening. Eragon looks down from the Dragonhold whilst seated upon Saphira, his gaze fixed on the three openings in the ground that the urgals will spill forth from any moment now. 

A sense of unease creeps into his heart, a feeling of dread and misfortune hanging in the air. He takes a deep breath to calm himself before he hears it. 

*thump* *thump* *thump*

Eragon tenses up as he witnesses the first urgal rears its horned head out of an opening, its large muscular frame glistening with sweat as it rushes out into the light whilst screaming at the top of its lungs. 

Soon enough, hundreds of urgals start to stream out of the holes at a frenzied pace, hacking and slashing at the defenses in their way. Their bodies fall into the spike pits and sink down as their brethren stomp down on the bodies, eventually filling up the pits with their lifeless corpses. 

The Varden wasted no time in engaging the enemy, dumping large cauldrons of hot tar over the holes, the screams of the urgals burning to death are a sickening melody, the ballad for the dance of death. The tar doesn't last long as the urgals simply stomp on their fallen brethren in their rush to the surface, snuffing out the burning liquid. 

As the battle rages on, the number of urgals on the surface reaches the thousands as the defenders are slowly pushed back by the relentless tide. With every urgal they slay, two more take its place, their numbers seemingly infinite.

Eragon grips the pommel of the saddle tightly as he watches the battle from afar, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. Once the urgals reach a certain point, Saphira leaps into the air and flies towards the battlefield, her blood pumping in exhilaration at finally being let loose. She strafes over the middle of the urgal hoard, breathing fiery death upon all below her, cleaving a large chunk out of their forces in one fell swoop.

Meanwhile, Eragon is examining the entire battlefield with a keen eye, looking for whoever is controlling the urgals. Minutes go by as the battle intensifies, the forces of the Varden having only suffered some minor losses so far as the trenches and spike pits hinder the urgals advance. 

After what feels like hours, Eragon sees a lone figure cleaving his way through the Varden with ease, his sword glinting in the firelight as he cleaves through man and dwarf alike. 

Eragon directs Saphira towards him and he jumps off when he gets close, landing upon the bloodstained ground with a thunderous crash. The man looks over at Eragon with his bright red eyes and his lips curl up into a sinister smile, his pale skin covered in blood. Eragon looks at the man with astonishment and caution, recognizing the features of a shade.

"You have finally shown yourself to us, dragon rider. Our name is Varaug. You will die tonight or be brought to my liege willingly. Which will you choose?"

Eragon stares at Varaug, his sword at the ready should he be attacked. In his head he is freaking out.

'How? This guy isn't even supposed to exist yet!!! Are you telling me that Galbatorix forced those mages to make a new shade after I killed Durza?'

Eragon grips his sword tighter, knowing that even with his enhancements, Varaug will be a difficult enemy to defeat. In terms of strength, he was around four to five times as strong as Durza even when some of the mages died before his summoning. He had over a dozen spirits forced into his body unlike Durza's three. Now though? He might have over twenty souls, making him a contender for the strongest shade to ever exist. 

Eragon starts sweating profusely as fear starts to overwhelm him. He shouldn't have had to fight someone this strong yet. He thought that once he trained with the elves that he would have no competition on this continent to threaten him. Now he is regretting relying on his old world's knowledge so much.

With a shaky breath, Eragon calms himself down before looking into Varaug's glimmering red eyes. "I will not be going anywhere. You will die here, Varaug. Waise Losna Malthinae!" 

Eragon channels his magic and says the spell that he used to defeat Durza. Varaug stands there, a look of contempt directed at Eragon as the spell drains his magic but seems to have no effect.

"You are foolish to think that the same trick would work on us. My liege gave us a shield from your spell, giving you no hope of victory. Surrender…"

Eragon grits his teeth, blood leaking from his lip as he bites into it. He steels his resolve and charges forward, his sword splitting the air as it thrusts towards Varaug's heart. 

Varaug slightly tilts to the side, Eragon's blade flashing past only a millimeter away from finding its target. He laughs at Eragon's foolishness as he expertly dodges every attack that is thrown at him. 

Eragon puts all the strength and speed that he can muster into his swings but is unable to land even a single hit. He realizes quickly that Varaug is so fast that his sword must be moving in slow motion for him. Varaug isn't even fighting back, he is simply dodging everything whilst giving him that creepy smile the whole time.

Seemingly having enough of dodging, Varaug starts to attack Eragon as well, forcing him on the defensive. His sword is a blur of motion that Eragon can barely react to in time to block or parry with his sword. His armor is getting slashed over and over, not really taking much damage seeing as it is made of an alloy stronger then Varaug's sword but that doesn't stop the force of the blows causing severe trauma to his skin and muscles underneath. Even Varaug is surprised by the resilience of Eragon's armor.

"That armor is of wonderful craftsmanship. A fitting gift for my liege. If you do not surrender soon, we will be forced to kill you. Give up, dragon rider."

Eragon backs away slightly, his body screaming at him from all the bruises under his armor. While he is nowhere near his limit, If Varaug goes all out he will die instantly. The thought makes him feel powerless, all of his planning and growth means nothing in the face of even greater power. 

When he thinks about dying, his thoughts go to Saphira. She would be captured by Galbatorix and turned into a breeding farm for more dragons. He would then make an army of dragon riders that are completely loyal to him and take over all of Alagaesia. 

The thought of Saphira suffering seems to draw out some kind of power lodged deep within him. Eragon looks at Varaug with pure hatred in his eyes, said eyes start to glow with a bright blue light as a massive amount of energy seems to burst free from within his soul. 

Varaug staggers backwards as a wave of pure power slams into him, driving him to his knees, his confidence shattering as he looks upon Eragon with fear. Eragon's body is shrouded in a bluish light, the power at his fingertips making him feel invincible. 

With a simple thought he casts a spell, ripping all the water out of Varaug's body, turning him into a shriveled husk. Varaug tries to push back by casting a spell of his own only for all of his energy to be absorbed by Eragon like a sponge in water. Within moments Varaug's body is nothing but loose skin on a skeletal frame, his body toppling over and breaking apart becoming nothing but dust in the wind.

Eragon's fury still grips him tightly, his eyes scanning the battlefield around him. With a primal roar he leaps into the fight, his sword cleaving through flesh and bone, a tornado of steel causing untold destruction through the urgal lines.

Upon Varaug's death, the urgals seem to come to their senses and begin fleeing back into the tunnels. The men and women of the Varden begin cheering as their enemies retreat. Brom looks around the battlefield and spots Eragon slaughtering the retreating urgals as if he was possessed. He runs towards him, worry gnawing at his heart.

"ERAGON!!! We won, you don't have to fight anymore."

Eragon turns to look at Brom, his glowing eyes cause Brom to shiver instinctively. Eragon looks down at his hands now stained with blood as the energy around him fades, returning to wherever it came from. Once he calms down he walks over to Brom, his body unnaturally heavy as he stumbles over some corpses.

"Sorry about that. I lost myself for a moment there. Are you alright father?"

Brom sighs heavily before placing his hand on Eragon's shoulder. "I am fine, what about you? What was the blue light surrounding you?" 

"Blue light? What blue light?"

"Just now, when you were fighting like a whirling dervish, you had this blue light surrounding you and I could feel a powerful force pressing down on me when you looked my way."

Eragon strokes his chin in contemplation. "Well… I was fighting another shade that was at least eight times stronger than Durza. When I thought about what would happen to Saphira should I die, a strange power welled up inside me and I sucked all of the water out of the shades' body, turning him to dust. After that my anger clouded my judgment and I went on a killing spree." 

Brom shakes his head exasperatedly. "I shouldn't be surprised. Everything you do just utterly destroys any preconceived notion of what is and isn't 'normal'. I'm not even sure extraordinary does your abilities justice. And another shade? I don't think that anyone has ever slain two shades in their lifetime ever."

Eragon thinks back for a moment to how he killed Varaug as he realizes something. His shoulders slump and he rubs the bridge of his nose. "Well dad, It still hasn't happened." 

"What?"

"I kind of didn't kill him. You HAVE to stab them in the heart to kill them otherwise they reform somewhere else right?" 

"You didn't..."

"Yep. I lost control and killed him with magic. So he will be back within a year or so. maybe earlier as he has a lot of spirits inside him."

As Brom is having a small existential crisis do to this information, Saphira slowly descends towards the ground, landing next to Eragon with a sickening crunch as her weight crushes the urgal bodies beneath her. Eragon quickly walks over and starts examining her body for any lasting injuries but finds nothing of note, the healing enchantments he put on the saddle having fully healed her throughout the battle, it even even has an enchantment that can snap arrows that are lodged in her wings and remove them with ease.

The two link their minds back together and share their thoughts on the battle. Saphira reveled in the blood and carnage of slashing the urgals with her sharp claws and torching the ground with her flames whilst Eragon felt a heavy despair as his fight with the shade progressed, quickly changing to an unbridled fury burning like a sun. Saphira takes pride in the fact that him thinking about her is what caused the increase in his power.

With the battle finished, everyone that isn't cleaning up the battlefield or searching for wounded start to trickle towards the mountain city. The battlefield is almost eerily quiet as the urgals fully retreat into the caves, disappearing into the dark recesses. Man and dwarf alike cheer at the top of their lungs, celebrating their victory. 

...

Later that night, Brom, Eragon, and Saphira find themselves in the main hall next to Ajihad standing on a podium in front of a massive crowd of people. He holds his hand up in the air and the conversations in the hall quiet down, everyone waiting for him to speak.

"Men and women of the Varden, today we fought and won a decisive victory against Galbatorix's forces. The king thought that we would be overrun by the urgals but we showed him that we are far stronger then he gives us credit for. For we are fighting for freedom, for the lives of those that still live under his rule and vengeance for the atrocities that he has committed to all that have died by his orders."

Ajihad takes a deep breath, looking at the faces of his people and seeing anger and determination. "Within the coming years, we shall marshal our forces, join up with the forces of Surda, and take the fight to the king himself. For we have hope. Our dragon rider will seek counsel with the elves, learn the intricacies of magic, and fight the mad king on even ground." 

Ajihad pauses for dramatic effect. "Tonight, we mourn those that perished in this battle. Tomorrow, we begin preparing for the largest war the lands of Alagaesia has ever seen. To our fallen comrades." 

(Crowd) "TO OUR FALLEN!!!)

Ajihad draws his sword and lifts it into the air. Everyone in the hall shouts out the words, their voices shaking the earth. Over by the edge of the room, large barrels of mead had been prepared and hundreds of animals had been cooked, the food and drink distributed throughout the hall. The room is soon filled with the sound of boisterous laughter and loud voices as everyone celebrates to their heart's content.