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Oromis felt the blood leaving his body, he felt the sting of cold, the fear Glaedr felt, but he didn't feel his own fear, he felt shock, he felt the wind and he saw the darkness collapsing his senses but no fear. 'Perhaps to live is to fear?' He thought. He could feel Glaedr's attempts to save him and his pleas to hold on. Oromis wondered if he could actually hold on but then realized, he didn't want to. He was too tired and in too much pain, not just from the gaping wound along his chest, if that were it he would fight but it was the pain he felt all the time. He imagined the pain often as piranhas, eating away his will ever so slowly day by day. He turned his thoughts away from that though, knowing the pain would soon be over was such a relief. He was ready to face the void. He faced the darkness with a welcoming leap of his soul.

Murtagh couldn't believe what he'd just done. He had entered the battle with no intention to hurt the fellow rider, maybe bruise him about a little bit but never hurt him, never KILL him. His vision blurred as he watched the beautiful golden dragon fight to keep his rider alive, rush to safety away from him. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve and then set his face to a determined look. He felt his senses go up in a heated prickle, felt something change from deep within but he ignored it, barely registering the odd sensation as he made a decision. He flew forward.
"No!" His dragon said, ignoring his order.
"Now!" He used the power of the souls of the dragons to force his dragon forward and so Thorn did as he was ordered, killing the Golden dragon in a bout much like a child being forced to do something.
"NO!" Murtagh was out of his saddle before either of them could think. He ran down Thorns' head, and leapt off his head onto the golden dragon now falling lifelessly. He didn't know what he thought he could do, later he would realize he was no longer thinking in communicative thoughts, just in actions. He fought his way to the saddle holding the golden elf rider and too the knife out of the elfs belt. He barely recognized Thorn biting into the dragon and pulling up, attempting to stop the inevitable. Together they all headed back to the earth, Murtagh cut the binds as fast as he could, slashing and cutting, even drawing blood in his hurry. He could see the world spinning around and around and the earth seemed to appear on all sides of him but he had eyes on one thing only, getting the corps of the rider free.

He managed to get it just as Thorn lost patients and pulled him away, they dangled mid-air, Murtagh held the dead elf to his chest, both their feet dangling below them as he watched the dragon hit the ground with a 'boom'. Murtagh made no attempts to rejoin the fight or even get into his saddle, he ordered Thorn to fly away to safety and so Thorn did as he was told.

Thorn dropped his rider off on a hillside, not understanding his mourning companion. He knew they had to make an appearance in the battle on their own so he flew off to rejoin the battle, Murtagh didn't even notice his departure, so intent was he on the corpse.

Darkness, Darkness, light? Oromis looked around him as the light from above grew ever brighter, he saw Brom and Saphira, the first Saphira, Glaedr would be so glad, he and Saphira- suddenly he looked around where was Glaedr? Dragons die with their riders so where was he? Oh yes, he remembered now the Eldunarí, what a sad fate? That they would forever be apart. He realized Brom was saying something, but he couldn't hear him, it was as though he were under water as he spoke, he could hear the reverberations but not the actual words. As the light grew brighter he saw more, friends, fellow riders that had died, and their dragons and... it couldn't be. 'Galbatorix has missed you' he said to the first dragon, the dragon that had started everything with his death, he looked at Jarnunvösk with a mixture of wonder and sadness, knowing that even in death the two would never be reunited. Wait, after death? It didn't exist, how was he here?

Such thoughts were thrown aside as the dragon came forward, closer and closer until he had to turn his face away to get ever closer.

'I cannot promise I will ever see Galbatorix but if I ever should, I will give him your message.'

The dragon was appeased with this and left in a puff of smoke as black as the outskirts of his vision.

'My son' He felt a familiar shiver run down his spine, one that had not occurred in many centuries, he slowly turned around, his mother had died so long ago he had forgotten so much about her. He had always taken her presence for granted and so he had not noticed the glint of gold in her white blond hair, the natural beauty of her features, the grace of her walk. He remembered she never sang her appearances better or different and so she had her imperfections, a birthmark on her neck just left of her throat, the one blemish on her perfect features, her white robes were that of her favorite dress and her feet were bare.
'my son' she sighed and embraced him. 'Long have I watched you and your suffering.' She continued pulling away from him to face him, but still holding him, his face in her hands like she had held it so often before. 'Your suffering... It is not at an end and I know you are tired, and I know you are not happy but soon, you will be but you have to go back, you need to and he needs you.'
'Who?' He asked too comfortable to worry. She smiled, a single dimple appeared as if by magic as she started to fade, looking around in alarm, they were all leaving, in puffs of black smoke which curled around itself and around him until it engulfed him.

Murtagh was sobbing as he leaned over the body. He pumped his power, his being into the body in a way he couldn't understand. He felt his magical reserves ending and used the power of all of his Eldunarí, of even Thorn. He leaned back away from the body and onto a nearby rock which jutted out of the hill awkwardly. He had done everything he could, there was nothing else to be done. He studied the mans face, the man that he had killed in cold blood. He couldn't describe why he felt bad about this man in particular, he had killed before. This was different he knew it with his being but he could not say why. He begged the man to come back, to breath again, to open his eyes and kill him if he wanted, but come back.

And then, the golden elf took a breath in, it rasped loudly but was the most beautiful music to the boy. Too tired to move all he could do was shift his hand over so it fell onto the man's chest. The elf's eyes opened and met his eyes for just a moment before he closed them again, Murtagh followed suit soon after, unable to stay awake another moment longer.