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Chapter 1: Trouble in Twins.

'Grief, it really is quite depressing.'

So thought Eragon as he stepped over the mutilated and hacked body of a man, scarcely recognisable due to the wounds that had claimed his life, a few likely caused after said life had been extinguished.

The survivors and those few who had returned already hung around the battlefield, some searching for loved ones amongst the dirt, others just wandering aimlessly, lost in the pain that had been wrought here, most, however, had been drafted into the clean-up and were carrying the mighty forms of Urgals off to be disposed of.

"Glory" Eragon said under his breath "It's just something they tell soldiers so they'll risk their lives."

"You say something?" Murtagh said from his right.

Eragon eyed the blood stained zone with an eye as red as blood itself which burned and glowed with some otherworldly power "No, nothing" but they were dulled, this battle, Durza, the demons, it had all taken its toll.

Yet his thirst was unquenched.

"Come on" he called strutting forwards "I need to find something to kill."

Murtagh chuckled and followed, Saphira huffed out smoke and followed, and lastly Arya watched him carefully for several moments then finally followed.

They were approaching the tunnel entrances carved into the side of the great crater that was Farthen Dur, even with the stench of blood strong and the grief near palpable, this weird and unearthly yet so earthly place could still cause awe and amazement.

"You know" Murtagh said moving a bit closer and glancing about cautiously "I think you should've put on a tunic."

Eragon laughed and flexed his arms, they were thin and pale true, but they held more power than an Urgals thick trunk like arms "Why bother, it'll just get ripped and bloodied?"

He paused and spoke with a dwarf a few moments then grinned and head towards a tunnel to the east, the dwarf protested to his back but was ignored and soon forgotten.

"You intend to go in alone?" Murtagh asked, already suspecting.

"Course, everyone'll just slow me down."

"Including me?"

"Including you."

His oft times dour companion smiled "Fair enough, I'll go find work elsewhere, I'd probably end up dead hunting with you anyway."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because to you, allies are people who get in the way of your sword."

Eragon frowned and considered it, then nodded in agreement "True, well" he grasped forearms with Murtagh and grinned his own wicked grin "Try not to die."

"Right back at you."

Murtagh headed off back towards the gathering soldiers being assigned orders whilst Eragon continued his march to the tunnel.

"Do you truly intend to enter alone?"

He paused and let out a small sigh, then glanced back at the elf "Yes, obviously."

"That is both dangerous and foolish."

"Lucky for me, I'm both of those things."

Her green eyes stared him down though when he levelled his crimson gaze upon her she had no choice but to glance away "I shall accompany you."

"Oh, shall you?" he asked mockingly.

"Yes, I shall."

"Why, elf? I'm a big boy, I can handle myself."

She marched forwards till they stood shoulder to shoulder still not looking at him "It is my duty to see you are not killed in an idiotic escapade such as this."

His bare toes clenched up in the blood sodden earth as he flexed the muscles "Do what you want?" he finally said, walking forwards again, this time fiddling with his belt as he affixed his twins swords onto it, putting Durza's sword on the left and Zar'roc to his right.

Arya followed but a few paces behind "Should you not put on your armour" she glanced at his already muddy feet "or at least some boots."

"Why? I don't need either."

She scowled at how easily he dismissed her advice "I suspect you will regret that decision."

"And I suspect you will fuck me before the years out" he shot back, taking gleeful note of the slight flush creeping up her neck, whether embarrassment or anger Eragon didn't know, nor care, either was fine.

Standing at the tunnel entrance Eragon stretched out, reaching high up as he could, working out any kinks in his spine and flexing his legs, before turning to Saphira who stood, a radiant jewel in the gloom 'See you soon.'

'Safe travels, little one' she responded, not feeling too put out. Saphira understood that he could not bear the grief or pain of those in Farthen Dur, it bothered him, it was akin to annoyance but deeper than that, more than that rather. Either way, he would come back once the wound had either healed or was festering, to burn out the infection or prevent one, it hardly mattered to him.

When he was done Arya spoke again "Let us go" and with that she was off at a pace impossible for a human to match yet quieter than the softest footed forest cat she raced down the tunnel with both silence and speed.

Eragon was by her side in a second.

She had intended to race far ahead of him, forgetting momentarily that he had matched her in speed and strength both during the battle and during their spar, so was at first shocked when he easily kept up with her.

Then angry she tried to go faster, tried to outpace him, but whenever she went faster he matched it until she could go no faster, and then he went even faster and she was the one pressed to keep up.

But neither slowed, neither surrendered even an inch, neither even considered the idea of giving in, or moving a single pace slower. Then a smell invaded Eragon's nostrils, the smell of blood and fetid meat.

With his grin spreading even wider and far more sadistic he turned to look at Arya to see if she had noticed.

She had, her hand had wrapped around her sword, and she had slowed enough to be silent.

Eragon followed suit drawing his twin blades, the silver and wine red blade invisible in the near pitch blackness of the tunnel. Despite this Eragon's crimson eyes could pierce this darkness, it wasn't perfect but he hadn't tripped over anything yet.

Their eyes met, crimson and emerald. Eragon grinned brightly and licked his lips sensually, before shooting forwards, any hint of stealth being abandoned by the Shade.

The Urgals panicked as he shot out of the tunnel and into the room that they had packed into.

He wove a dazzling wed of silver and red with Zar'roc and Durza's sword and using that seven Urgals were cut down in the very first instant.

Three others were felled by Arya's sword and another two had their necks broken by Eragon's magic.

Eragon stabbed both his blades through one of the final two Urgals and left Zar'roc in there as he grabbed the last by its skull, his fingers wrapping around its head as it tried to flee.

The Urgal struggled a few moments and a dark sadistic grin spread over Eragon's face then ,slowly, it faded and the Urgal stopped struggling, Eragon's fingers cracked open its skull.

Arya started to move on, the band finished, before she realised Eragon wasn't moving with her, still staring at the now dead Urgal that lay upon the ground.

"Eragon?" she asked, watching the back of his head "Is something wrong?"

"No... nothing" he said slowly "No mercy, only violence, haha, I should take that as my motto" he grinned over at her, bloodlust corrupting his expression "Let's move" he said, ripping his swords from the Urgal he had left them in.

He let the back of his fingers glide over her leather clad leg as he passed by, their eyes locking for a moment, a long, tense moment.

Then it was over and he was walking away.

Three hours and eighty Urgals later, and they were still hard at it.

The scratched silver blade slit through the throat of an Urgal spilling black blood onto the ground, Zar'roc stabbed into another's gut ripping out its innards and a quick Jierda broke two more in half, literally.

"How many of these little bastards are there?" Eragon growled out, his crimson eyes glowering at the corpses that lay before him.

"I thought you would be glad, did you not want to kill something? Arya walked to his side, flicking blood off of her own sword and looking down at the corpses with him.

Durza's sword in his right hand, was leaned on his shoulder, whilst Zar'roc was held by his side, together they were a menace for any who got close to the Rider. The dazzling and sometimes beautiful net of steel he wove around himself and wove into his foes was near impenetrable.

Near, however, wasn't good enough and Eragon had taken a few knocks and cuts.

"Maybe, but see, I like to kill something and then it be dead, and me not have to kill a thousand of its fucking brethren afterwards!" he complained glaring at the elf as if it were her fault.

"We have scarcely killed fifty, together, nowhere near a thousand."

"Yeah well, if you didn't insist on coming this would be so much quicker, I wouldn't have to slow down for the pathetic elf" he glowered at her and she glared right back. Then he grinned "Still, watching that body of yours in action... well... it more than makes up for your continued existence."

She stormed away, continuing down the tunnel at speed, he grinned before following.

It had been just a day since the battle, a day since that glorious, murderous day. A day since he had killed Durza, a day since he had fought the demons once again, a day since the Urgals turned on each other after whatever magic Durza cast on them faded.

A day since the Legion awoke.

A day since people started calling him Shadeslayer.

That was amusing, to say the least, and Eragon wondered a few moments if such an interesting situation had ever occurred before. The Shadeslayer who was a Shade.

The next band promised to be as easy as the rest, but, when Eragon slammed his leg into an Urgals groin, something happened.

The wound that marred his back opened, splitting ever so slightly, and it hurt.

Hurt was perhaps a slightly modest turn, felt like a hundred hot pokers being stabbed into the flesh along the scar was a more appropriate description.

The Urgals sword cut into his shoulder, taking advantage of his distraction.

Eragon's body lashed out, moving on little more than instinct, he sliced the Urgals head off, simply and effectively.

Then the pain faded. His aggravation at the pain, and his new wound did not, and so to relieve himself of this aggravation he started butchering the other Urgals, slicing off limbs, pounding them with his fists, drawing it out for as long as he could before finally ending their, now miserable, existences.

Arya looked over at him once she was done, having heard the various cries of pain from the Urgals, and saw him fiddling with the small of his back, right along the line of the scar, a dark line just visible in the gloom with her elven eyesight.

She looked away, flinching. It would forever be burned into her memory, him lying there, his back cleaved open, Durza looking down at her, and the Legion that monstrous... thing Eragon had become.

Just thinking on it made her shiver.

"You cold?" Eragon asked, turning his crimson gaze to her as she shivered.

"No... there should be more up ahead" he nodded and they continued onwards.

Arya never saw the blood dripping from Eragon's scar.

"Eragon, Arya!"

Eragon glanced at the man as he approached "Jormundur, nice to see you're alive."

Jormundur managed a grim smile "Yes, I am quite pleased about that myself too" he then moved straight to business "It's good you two have returned, Ajihad will arrive soon and he wants both of you to be present when he does."

"Sure" Eragon said waving his hand dismissively and looking about the battle filed with boredom "It better not be right now though, 'cause I'm thirsty."

This wrung a more amused grin from the older man. Having watched as the Rider taunted and slaughtered his way through Urgals, Jormundur was starting to understand the rather violent and cavalier attitude the young rider possessed, or at least was no longer shocked by it "Here take my wine skin" he offered it to the Rider then beckoned them both to follow.

"So how fared the hunt?" he asked politely, walking quickly towards Tronjheim's west gate where a small group stood in a pool of lantern light.

"Eh, it went alright, elfy here got one hundred and five, which was utterly pathetic compared to my two hundred and forty one" Eragon flashed Arya a taunting victory sign.

"Most impressive" Jormundur complimented them both.

Arya huffed.

Eragon gulped down half the contents of the wine skin in a few gulps "AH! Good stuff. Want some?" he offered to Arya who simply look away.

"We were quite worried when you did not return after the first day."

"Wasn't tired, we saw no reason to come back."

"You saw no reason to come back" Arya muttered quietly still glowering at Eragon.

"Whatever you say, elf" Eragon said dismissively.

"Still you spent two whole days down there, we had feared the worst. But thankfully you are uninjured" Jormundur eyed the various cuts and bruises the two had gathered, it was a small number, no more than ten each, they were probably the most uninjured of all those who had been hunting "mostly."

They came to stop by the gate. For a few seconds Orik, who was one of those gathered, glared at Arya. Like all dwarves he was angry over the destruction of the Isidar Mithrim, but unlike the other he could understand, and even agreed with, the reasoning behind it. Didn't mean he wasn't angry.

Eragon walked over to Saphira, who was also one of the gathered and stood a few feet from Orik "So when's Ajihad arriving?" he asked the dwarf as he came to a stop by Saphira 'Hey Saphira.'

'I've missed you little one' Eragon could feel the loneliness that seeped through him from those words.

'I know' he patted her gently, then grinned up at the dragon 'No worries, I'll share my memories of the slaughter with you.'

'You better.'

"We don't know" replied Orik once Eragon's gaze turned to him, he had seen the signs of the Dragon and Rider's conversation and remained silent during that "But he should come from there soon" Orik pointed to a cluster of lanterns that surrounded the opening of a tunnel about two miles away.

"I hate waiting" Eragon groaned and slumped down against Saphira's side, waiting impatiently for Ajihad to arrive, occasionally speaking with Saphira as she critically commented on his memories.

The quiet that filled Tronjheim was really starting to piss Eragon off. Personally he preferred noise, the chaos of life held much more attraction than the silence of death.

It took over half an hour for something to finally happen, which was good as Eragon was wondering how far he could throw his swords and if he did toss them… well, it wouldn't end prettily, probably with someone accidently impaled.

Movement started up around the tunnel, a group of ten men climbed out of the ground, then helped up as many dwarves.

Ajihad, even from this distance Eragon could recognise him, raised a hand and the warriors assembled behind him in two straight lines, then he signalled and the formation marched towards Tronjheim.

Eragon rolled his eyes, pointless posturing bored him.

The group barely got five yards away from the tunnel.

Eragon heard his heart beat twice in his chest.

"URGALS!"

With that one mighty roar he leapt up onto Saphira's back, her powerful legs kicking them from the ground the second he was secure enough. Durza's long sword was in his hand instantly, his fingers tightly clenched around the bone handle.

'Faster' he told her, knowing she was going as fast as she could, even so her wing beats increased in frequency, below them Arya ran almost as fast as Saphira flew, behind her Orik led a group of warrior and Jormundur went to fetch more warriors.

They weren't fast enough and Eragon and Saphira were forced to watch as the Urgals fell upon Ajihad's men.

They had surprise on their side and within seconds cut down four men.

Panic spread like a wildfire and the warriors could do little more than gather around Ajihad in an attempt to protect him.

Eragon reached down into his mind as the one of the twins used their magic severing the arm of an Urgal.

He drew up his magic and prepared the words to incinerate each and every Urgal.

"ARRRRGGGGHHH!" pain struck him, jabbing into his head like a dagger, a thousand voices mixed into one spoke to him, just like that time so long ago yet barely two days ago "We will claim what is ours... we are Legion... for we are many."

His fist slammed into Saphira's hard scales, she grunted slightly from the force of his blow.

'S-sorry' he apologised weakly, looking up at the continuing battle before him, unable to do anything having exhausted his magic in the tunnels.

It looked like they were holding out well, if they could hang on for a bit more Eragon would be there, with his twin swords Eragon could cut them down even if magic failed him.

But then something happened.

There was a swirl, a motion in the air, and it was like a faint mist wrapped itself around the combatants.

When it cleared only four stood, Ajihad, the twins and Murtagh.

The Urgals surrounded them, like maggots converging on a corpse, they piled up to the point where Eragon couldn't see.

Anger burned in his head, not again, he wouldn't let it happen again.

'Eragon, STOP!' Saphira forced him down, stopping him from using the magic that would destroy the Urgal, but in the process likely cause him to lose himself.

'Damn it Saphira' he shouted at her but didn't try again.

The Urgals fled as Saphira came crashing down, scrambling back into the tunnel, leaving only corpses behind.

Eragon leapt down, and started towards the tunnel.

A faint, laboured breathing stopped him.

Five Kull lay dead around the body that drew Eragon's attention.

He walked forwards and knelt by Ajihad, his eyes scanning the injury clinically, it was hopeless. Even with Eragon's limited knowledge of healing, something's were beyond repair, this was one of them.

"E-Eragon" the voice was faint, barely a whisper, almost painful to hear in comparison to Ajihad's usual strong and commanding tone.

Eragon placed a hand on the dark skinned man's shoulder. Blood ran down Ajihad's skin like ink on charcoal "Hey" Eragon smiled down grimly.

Arya came to a stop behind them, remaining a respectful distance away.

"Eragon... I have one... last thing... one last thing to... to request" his words fragmented by breaths as he tried to breath.

He nodded "Go ahead."

"Do... do not let the Varden fall into chaos... they... they..." Ajihad coughed violently, blood trickling from his mouth "They are the only hope of resisting the Empire... the..." more blood was spat up "they must be kept..." his breathing was laboured and strained, he had but seconds to live "kept strong. Please... p... promise me."

"I promise" Eragon said, his voice displaying no emotion whatsoever "So long as I live the Varden shall not fall, we may waver, but never crumble, and we will succeed, I swear it."

Ajihad looked up at Eragon's face with his dark eyes "Ha..." he laughed weakly "It seems... I do have... some control... over you..." Eragon smiled "Thank you... Eragon, peace be with you... Shadeslayer... who is also... a Shade."

With those words Ajihad's breathing stopped and he faded from life.

Eragon gently closed his eyes then stood glowering at the corpses that surrounded him, his fists clenched into tight balls. The hilt of Durza's sword was under such pressure that it was a surprise it didn't break under Eragon's strength.

Then... he hoped.

"Murtagh" he said faintly "Murtagh isn't here, nor the Twins" he stared at the tunnel for all of one second then raced in.

"Eragon!" 'Eragon!' he ignored the cries from both Arya and Saphira and charged, barely taking note of the fact that Arya raced after him. But his speed was unmatchable. She couldn't catch up or stop him, only trail behind slowly getting further and further away.

Eragon wasn't sure how far they ran, how quickly they sped through the tunnels, how long his legs pounded the ground as he ran faster and faster and faster. Eragon's nose guided him along the Urgals scent, like a shark following blood. Arya had been just ten meters behind when they entered, but it was gradually increasing.

By the time he stopped, hours later on the edge of the great black chasm, it took Arya five whole minutes to reach his side.

A lone tear dripped from his eyes and landed on the tunic that rested in his hands.

Two leather gauntlets and two bloodied purple robes also sat by where he had collapsed, right by the chasms edges. Another tear hit the tunic.

"DRAUMR KOPA!" he incanted, though the way he spoke it was more like a curse, his palm burned with pale light. The air to his right shimmered and twisted, the blackened over, showing only darkness.

Eragon's fist slammed into the ground with an audible thud, more tears spilling from his eyes.

"Murtagh..." his voice was quiet but filled with so much sorrow... and so much anger "DAMN IT!" he roared, his voice echoing up and down the tunnel, reverberating his words back at him again and again, fainter each time.

Only once they had faded completely did Arya dare to move, placing a hand on his tense shoulder "I am sorry" he voice was gently and steady, though breathless.

His head dropped down and Eragon let himself rest on his kneeling knees as he sat on the cold tunnel floor. Arya's breathing was heavy, in fact his own breathing was heavy too, he hadn't noticed before, before when only finding Murtagh mattered.

Lifting his head up less than a minute later, he seemed to have recovered, somewhat. But when he spoke his voice was cold and harsh, so unlike the flirty, sadistic and cheerfully morbid Eragon that Arya had come to know "How long did we run?"

"I don't know, maybe four hours, possibly longer" she wiped her brow of sweat, keeping her tone gentle.

He stood and nodded "We better head back."

Eragon's crimson gaze glared down at the clothing that rested by his feet for a second, before he kicked it all down the chasm heartlessly. His gaze showed the true depth of his sorrow and his pain... and his fury.

"Let's go."

They took a far slower pace back, one that Arya could easily match, it would still be too fast a human or dwarf to match but it wasn't full speed for an elf, nor, apparently, a Dragon Rider Shade Fusion.

Upon emergence from the tunnel they were greeted by spear points from the soldiers that now guarded the tunnel. Eragon wacked a spear aside by hand, his strength tearing it from the soldiers grasp and he stomped past, shoving those who failed to move.

Saphira also sat near the tunnel, behind the soldiers 'Eragon' he ignored her and stormed off, deeper into Farthen Dur.

The blue dragon looked to Arya for reassurance, and Arya gave what she could "Do not worry, he is grieved, he will seek comfort from you soon."

Arya turned to the guards who immediately straightened up, having been trying to not be noticed whilst eavesdropping "Where is Jormundur? I must speak with him."

Eragon walked through the battlefield, a few bodies and the occasional Urgal remained, but it was the blood soaked earth that showed the true signs of the recent conflict, not that Eragon noticed or cared about any of that, lost as he was in his own pain.

Murtagh, the one person who had truly and completely accepted him, the person who knew him as Eragon Dragon Rider and had accepted him as Eragon Shade, the one who didn't care he was a Shade or care that Eragon was a Rider. Eragon's first real friend... was dead.

It left him feeling hollow, numb.

He should be crying, he should feel a pain deep in his heart. He didn't. All he felt was... empty, and a deep dark desire, an unrelenting urge to tear something, anything, apart, bit by bit.

It might have been the spirits, Eragon tried to tell himself it was those demons of his mind, but in truth he doubted, in truth he wondered if it was not himself, wanting to burn the world, to make everyone else feel his pain. He shoved it back all the same.

Bending down he picked up a human molar from the ground, where it had glinted in the faint light and caught his attention, and bounced it on his palm.

The hollowness, the feeling of being empty, the horrifying thing was that he had slowly grown accustomed to it over the past few months. It had first happened in that clearing where he had shut down his emotions, just to keep himself working, then when Brom had had died he had shut himself down quicker, to the point where now he had had a few moments of agony before all feeling stopped.

It seemed that all the people he cared about, and who cared about him, were doomed to die. Morbidly he wondered if Roran was still alive or if the Empire had killed him and burned Carvahall yet.

'We all die one day, little one.'

Eragon turned to face Saphira, his expressions somewhere between cold and expressionless, and tormented 'But I will outlive all those I cared about in my past life, and most likely all those I care about in this life.'

Saphira shook her head 'Not all, I will only die when you do, and I will not let you die so long as I live.'

'Pretty words... they count for shit Saphira. Either one of us could die at any time, any moment, in any way. One of us will outlive the other, that is certain, only to live long enough to take vengeance, if it can be taken, before embracing death by our own hand or claw if we must' he spoke for both of them because he knew she felt the same way and always would.

No matter how estranged they were from each other, no matter how many secrets they kept from each other, how much they hurt each other, teased, taunted or even physically harmed each other, they were and always would be one and the same. Two sides of a coin, needing the other to provide the reason for their existence.

'All is not lost' she tried a different tactic 'Arya still lives, I still live, and you still live. And now we know what we must do and where we must go.'

Oromis, the Mourning Sage and the Cripple Who Is Whole, he was where their fates rested, and with Glaedr, the golden dragon who had been at least three times the size of Saphira. The vision/dream he saw had been shared with no one except Saphira, whom he had given it too just before entering the tunnels, just as he had promised.

Yes, they now knew what they must do, but to Eragon that was no consolation over the loss of Murtagh 'I would prefer Murtagh to live than know where to go now. I'd be fine with not knowing a single fucking thing about my future in return for his life.'

'But we do know about our future, and he cannot return to life. Eragon, take comfort in what we do have, do not lose yourself over what we have lost.'

'Yeah, yeah' he pulled slightly from the connection but didn't break it, unwilling to talk further. Saphira accepted that but moved beside him to let him lean against her.

After a silent hour passed by unnoticeably Saphira gently pried into his mind and spoke to him in a soft tone 'Come, the dwarves have given us quarters in an old guardroom on Tronjheim's bottom level.'

He nodded and followed her, trusting Saphira to guide him and not caring enough to remember the route.

They entered a large, but low ceilinged, for Saphira, room. The walls were dark and the single lantern was quite dim, but more than enough for Eragon to see.

A large pillow had been laid out for Saphira and a bed had been made for Eragon.

He tossed Zar'roc and Durza's sword onto the ground uncaringly, then stripped off his bloodied pants, those being the only things he had worn since waking up two, possibly three, days ago, and then slumped onto the bed.

Saphira had been watching him with concern the entire time 'Eragon?'

'Let's not talk Saphira, please.'

She agreed and remained quiet but still watched him carefully.

Despite the cool air Eragon didn't shiver, he didn't even pull a blanket over his body. He just watched the stone ceiling, his thoughts elsewhere.

Saphira whispered to him, with a yawn, some minutes later 'Good night.'

'Night.'

See you next chapter, review if you please.