Alright, here's my fic, Shade. Basically Eragon gets turned into a Shade and all types of problems occurs. I'm mostly going to stick with the basic storyline, only with some of my own twists. I'm sorry but some of this fic will be literally copied from the book, see I don't want to skip over important explanations, but I will try to cut them down and add in original comments wherever I can.

Starts in Eragon, in Gilead, during his imprisonment.

Anyway thats it, I'll add no more author notes for the entire fic. Hope you enjoy.

But firstly:

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor claim any ownership of the places, peoples and cultures within this fic... does anyone else wonder if these are even nessassary anymore, oh well.


Chapter 1: Demons and Unknown.

They writhed within his consciousness. Each and every one had a different purpose, a different will, a different mind, yet they were, intrinsically, one and the same.

'How many are there?' he wondered 'A thousand, a million, a billion, more?' trying to count them was impossible, if he tried they changed so much by the time he had finished that he was no longer sure if that one had been counted or not.

Raw, undiluted pain ripped through his head and he let out an unearthly scream.

"The Spirits inside of you are devouring your very being. Soon you will not be Eragon Dragon Rider... but something more" Durza, a tall, thin man with maroon hair and eyes, paced around Eragon's body, smirking triumphantly.

Eragon himself was chained in a spread eagle position on the ground, each chain attached to a limb, one for each of his arms and legs, the chains were nailed into the stone floor surrounding the raised metal circle he lay on.

"How does it feel to be the first Dragon Rider Shade in existence? Horrifying, exhilarating, amazing... or perhaps even terrifying?" Durza laughed, his red eyes showing the true madness that was Durza.

Eragon pulled on the chains, not noticing as his wrists and ankles bled. He raised his head to meet Durza's eyes defiantly. A laugh was all his effort received.

He let his head fall back to the ground hitting the metal with a resounding 'thump', he breathed heavily. The simple action of raising his head off the ground had tired him so much.

Exhaustion clawed at his mind, he could feel it, the desire to just give up, to just surrender and die, to just let them take over.

He could feel them even more clearly now, they were each a part of him, each a part of each other, yet so distinctly themselves, it was so complicated, he could barely begin to describe it.

Eragon flinched. They were eating away at him, taking away everything of his and he could do nought but watch, they were so strong.

This torment continued for hours and hours, he wasn't sure how long it had been, how long he had been in his agony.

Durza's impatience could practically be felt in the room.

Then something lit up in his mind, something begged for him to reach towards it. Eragon didn't know what, but anything was better than the pain and he reached for it, hoping.


A loud 'boom' echoed throughout the room as something large and heavy hit the roof.

One of the beams supporting said roof fell to the ground next to the circle.

Something had braced his mind, had strengthened him and the spirits seemed to stop and could move no further, for now at least.

He looked up to see Durza reaching upwards with his hand grabbing at the air, the shimmer of light was enough to tell Eragon of the magic.

He tried to speak, tried to get some of the words out, words to stop him at least, anything that would distract him.

But he failed.

Durza muttered in the language, Eragon picked up the odd word or two but no more, and then...

A chuckle.

Durza stood there an arrow sticking out of his shoulder.

"You'll have to do better than that" taunted Durza speaking to someone Eragon couldn't see properly as his eyes chose that moment to blur.

"Another arrow?" asked Durza sadistic mirth clear in his tone.

"You seem to be forgetting something or rather someone..." said the dark figure still blurred in Eragon's sight.

"Oh yes, and who is that?"


The ceiling, which had been quiet since earlier, was now ripped apart, a giant blue head poking its way through the wreck.

Rubble fell to the ground and Durza began to turn to confront his new foe, but he was caught unawares and an arrow entered his skull.

An unearthly shriek pierced the noise, the sound of it drowning out all else.

Eragon's head fell back again.

The figure approached him.

"Eragon" it was Murtagh "Come one we need to..."

He noticed the chains "Shit" he grabbed on and pulled on it "Damn it, all right I'll..."

"An elf..." said Eragon, interrupting Murtagh whilst trying to remain conscious "In the cell, least left... from mine..." Eragon breathed heavily, he was barely alive let alone awake "Hurry."

"Eragon what..."

"Elf... cell... go..." he said his breathing getting heavier.

The blue dragon ripped through the last of the ceiling and crawled down into the great hall.

"Saphira, can you get these chains off of him, and keep him safe, I'll... yeah" he said not really paying attention to what he said, he shot another looked to Eragon then ran off to the cells.

'Eragon... what is...?'

"Saphira... not now... I can't... just wait... please" he said, not daring to touch her mind.


He could tell Saphira was miffed but he had bigger problems, he tried to recuperate, tried to gain ground against the spirits whilst Murtagh was away, but Murtagh couldn't come back soon enough as the spirits were winning.

Their movement was slowed considerably by whatever had braced his mind, to the point where originally he thought they had stopped, but no they were still moving, slowly but surely.

He barely noticed as Saphira ripped up the nails holding the chains into the ground.

Murtagh soon returned with not only the elf tossed over his shoulder, but Zar'roc strapped to his belt and a strange sword and bow in his hands.

"These must be the elves" he said dropping them to the ground "I doubt they could be for anyone else."

Eragon warily got to his feet, his legs were shaking like crazy, and he was still breathing heavily.

He barely noticed Murtagh fiddling with the saddle and strapping the elf into it, trying to suppress the fresh wave of pain that had washed over him.

Murtagh jumped down and grabbed the elf's sword and bow, then looked back at the shaky Eragon and almost sighed.

He wrapped an arm around the boys shoulder and led him quickly over to Saphira. After giving her Rider a worried look the Dragon bent down to make it easier for them to get on.

"Come on" encouraged Murtagh, pulling up Eragon after clambering up himself.

Murtagh carefully gripped onto the dragon with his legs and a hand with his other arm wrapped round Eragon who clearly couldn't be trusted to hold himself on, in fact he looked as though he would fall off with just the slightest movement.

And he was right, in fact Eragon barely noticed getting up onto Saphira, he only noticed taking off because Murtagh's arm tightened round his chest, and he certainly didn't register flying, not how long not how fast, not even that they were flying.

When archers shot arrows into the sky, and some even pierced Saphira's wings, he still barely noticed, only a flicker of concern passed through his mind, before his own pain washed it away.

He did, however, notice landing, mainly because he fell off and landed harshly on the cold hard ground.

Murtagh jumped down after him and Eragon managed to get to his knees.

"Sorry about that" said Murtagh "But you have to admit that a landing dragon is one that's hard to hang on to, particularly if there is also an elf and her rider also sat on her and both unconscious, at least near unconscious, I was afraid both of you'd fall throughout the entire flight."

Saphira snorted in the background.

"Not to say that your flying wasn't superb, I was merely worried" said Murtagh placatingly.

"Murtagh... thank you" said Eragon interrupting the two's discussion.

Murtagh glanced over at him a few moments "You're welcome" he said cheerfully, then his face turned grave as he looked at Eragon, who was barely standing, chains still attached to his arms and legs "Eragon what hap..."

"I'm sorry" said Eragon cutting across Murtagh "I'm so sorry."


"I was weak... I know I shouldn't have... I know... but that doesn't matter, not now anyway" his voice was strained and quiet, as if it was a struggle just to breathe.

"What are you talking about?" asked Murtagh still standing by Saphira.

Eragon lifted his head, showing his glowing crimson eyes.

Murtagh jumped to his feet, his hand and a half sword was drawn and held in front of him, the tip pointing towards Eragon "What?" he said stunned, his instincts doing everything "You... you became a shade. How? Why?" Murtagh stared at him is disbelief.

"I lost hope. I wanted power, and Durza offered me power" Eragon felt Saphira try to enter his mind, but he pushed her away as harshly as he could "Please I need you too.." he grasped his throat as though he was choking, his mouth still moved but no words came forth.

He collapsed to the ground, Murtagh started forwards, but stopped, utterly unsure of what to do.

Crimson eyes looked up at him filled with murder and death "We are Le..." a violent coughing fit interrupted whatever he was going to say "They're so strong Murtagh" said Eragon "To strong... I can't win... I need you to..." a scream tore from his lips "... for we are ma..." another coughing fit followed "...kill."

"Eragon what..."

"I need you to KILL ME!" he roared uncaring as to who would hear. Darkness crept into the edges of his vision "Murtagh... please."

'NO!' cried Saphira placing herself between Murtagh and her rider, the elf hanging limply in her saddle.

"Saphira... don't do this" demanded Eragon, glaring at her "Get out of the way."

'No, I refuse' their gazes met and fierce blue met murderous crimson 'Eragon' she said after a few moments, her voice quiet and weak 'You can fight this. You can win I know it. Please Eragon... please don't die... don't leave me alone.'

There was a long moment of silence.

Thoughts whirled in his head but one was strong than the rest 'Begging?' thought Eragon 'Saphira is begging? Why?' he stared at the sad dragon through his rapidly darkening eyes. She had sounded so childish, so weak, so desperate, so unlike Saphira who was all pride, and strength, the picture of nobility.

'Please Eragon' she begged trying desperately to get further into his mind, to help him. But in the end she couldn't, whatever was defending his mind was too strong, to powerful, even for her 'Please, I know you're strong, stronger than me, stronger than Brom, stronger than anyone, so please... Please.'

"Saphira... I can't... it's too strong" he managed to get out, despite his exhaustion, his pain, and the fact that he was barely able to breathe.

'Eragon' her voice was strong now, more confident 'I believe in you. Fight it. Win. Please... for me.'

A single look into his dragons eyes, her deep blue eye that was filled with hope, and he couldn't refuse her. AS the darkness took the rest of his sight he sent a single thought to Saphira 'I will. I promise.'

And with that he dropped into unconsciousness.

He was surrounded by grey, greys of all manners of description. The hills were grey a light grey, the lake was a darker gray, maybe a middling gray, not to white and not to black, and even the trees were grey, a very dark grey, near black.

Amidst the endless greys was a crowd. A crowd of colour, of bright brilliant colours, oranges, reds, greens, blues, pinks and purples of all manners and descriptions. A crowd of colourful demons that fought a darkness.

The darkness was more frightful than the demons. Whatever it was was completely unknown to Eragon, he couldn't see it, something, some type of silhouette could be seen in the strange smoky darkness, but it wasn't defined.

Watching both sides of the fight he wondered what he was, an observer or should he fight too. The darkness was slowly retreating and the demons were taking ground, slowly but surely. But with each step the demons took the very land he stood on seemed to fade, ever so slightly.

'But is that a good thing or a bad thing?' he wondered briefly. Eragon tried to walk forwards, expecting to be disappointed. He wasn't. He could walk, but he stopped as he got nearer the demons and examined his hands, he was in colour, like the demons.

He looked at the combatants again, though the darkness was being pushed back it was slow, the darkness could still push back, the fight was almost even, almost.

Looking behind him he found nothing, absolutely nothing. He looked forwards again, the demons were directly in front of him, the darkness in front of them, they were still fighting but every time the demons stepped forwards parts of the land behind him was fading away.

One of the demons hit the darkness with its bright purple claws and crimson blood poured from it. The blood flowed all the way to him and pooled in front of him. As he watched the almost mesmerizing pool, words formed form it, just four words.

Who will you choose?

Eragon stared 'Is that my choice?' he thought looking from the blood to the demons and darkness 'Is it a question for me? Is it my choice? My choice between the evil I can clearly see, and the unknown? Am I being forced to choose?'

"Which do you fear more?" the words came from his mouth, but he didn't speak them.

"Which I fear more..." he said in wonder "The unknown?" but even as he asked himself that, he knew it wasn't what he feared, Saphira had been an unknown, at first, as had Brom and Murtagh, but they weren't evil.

Galbatorix was a clear evil, an evil in full sight, but at the same time Eragon knew so little about that man, so very little that he too was an unknown.

"The unknown is both good and bad" he concluded.

"Which would you side with?" the words again came from his mouth, but again he didn't say them.

"Side... which... the clear evil, that I can see, or the unknown which for all I know is evil? But is the clear evil, evil? Or is the unknown evil... I don't..." Eragon groaned and gripped his head his mind aching in confusion.

"Choose, quickly" whatever was speaking through him was strained now, desperate. Looking between the darkness and the demons, he chose.

He charged forwards, Zar'roc appearing in his hand.

Speeding up as he reached the enemy, he slashed at the nearest demon, multicoloured blood sprayed all over the landscape. Zar'roc glimmered in delight as blood dripped along the blade.

As the demons turned to face him, the darkness struck and great claws carved through several demons that were caught unawares.

Eragon kept attacking the demons, his blade slicing and dicing through them, he received no injuries as each time a demon tried to strike him darkness covered him and defended him from their assault.

He kept killing them, once their bodies fell to the ground they turned into the multicoloured liquid that was their blood, and that blood then seeped into the landscape colouring the grey.

The darkness was now gaining ground against the demons, they were losing, and the unknown was, with his help, winning. But there was still a question that needed answering 'Did I choose right?'

The number they killed was immense, it was an uncountable number, but as the last one fell and faded into the land Eragon felt something touch his shoulder.

He turned warily and found himself staring into a gigantic white eye, a dragon's eye.

'Thank you.'

The deep, growling voice that echoed through his mind sounded truly grateful, and Eragon just knew he had chosen right.

He fell forwards and into the dragons slit of a pupil, he fell again into the black.