Just a Guy and a Gate to the Multiverse - Chapter 32 (Patreon)

Chapter 32 - The 'Battle' of Urû'baen

— Urû'baen, 8000 AC —

Eragon’s POV

For the past few weeks, Eragon had felt as though he were living in a dream. What he had expected to be a harsh and bloody campaign against the powerful Empire had become deceptively easy.

In truth, they would have reached this point much sooner if they had not conducted every march and battle with such caution, expecting a trap at every turn. However, no trap ever came.

Instead, everything progressed remarkably well—far too well.

First, Eragon forged his new sword, a weapon worthy of a Dragon Rider. It was properly crafted from brightsteel while Rhunön controlled his body, allowing her to preserve her oath never to forge another blade. The result was a sword she considered possibly her finest creation, even though she had used Eragon’s hands to make it.

Its name was Brisingr, the word for fire in the Ancient Language. It was likely also part of the sapphire-blue blade’s true name, for unlike other Riders’ swords, it possessed the unique ability to burst into flames whenever Eragon spoke the word Brisingr aloud, transforming it into a true firesword.

Eragon and Saphira had also completed their final lessons with Oromis and Glaedr. They learned about the Eldunarí, the hearts of hearts hidden within every dragon, and discovered that they were the secret behind Galbatorix’s immense power.

Before departing Ellesméra, Glaedr had even entrusted his own Eldunarí to them. The gesture caused Eragon and Saphira considerable worry, for they feared it might be their final farewell.

Oromis and Glaedr traveled toward the Elven front, while Eragon and Saphira departed for Vroengard, the former island home of the Dragon Riders. Matt had called it a nuclear wasteland, whatever that meant, and the two of them journeyed there to seek the Vault of Souls.

The sight of the ruined island filled them with deep sorrow. They could only explore it after placing specific wards upon themselves to protect against the lingering effects of Thuviel’s self-destruction spell.

Thuviel had been an elf and one of the last Dragon Riders remaining during Galbatorix’s rebellion. He lost his dragon during the Fall and had seemingly gone mad, attempting to destroy all the traitors by using a self-destruction spell that converted the matter within his body into energy.

Matt had called the process uncontrolled nuclear fission.

That explosion had caused Vroengard’s current state.

In truth, however, Thuviel had been consumed by grief but had never lost his sanity. His self-destruction had been intentional, though the truth had been erased from the memories of Oromis and Glaedr, both of whom had taken part in the plan.

Eragon and Saphira learned this after discovering the Vault of Souls.

Thuviel had sacrificed himself to conceal the Vault’s existence and protect the dragons’ final hope. His explosion destroyed the buildings where dragon eggs were normally kept, hiding the fact that they had already been moved into the Vault. The corruption left throughout the surrounding land—or radiation, as Matt called it—also prevented anyone from pillaging the island and discovering what lay hidden beneath it.

The Vault contained not only 243 dragon eggs but also Cuaroc, an Eldunarí housed within a special artificial body and charged with guarding the chamber, along with 136 other Eldunarí prepared to support them in their battle against Galbatorix.

Those Eldunarí had quietly guided their lives from the shadows. They were the ones who redirected Arya’s teleportation spell, sending Saphira’s egg to Eragon instead of Brom. They had also empowered the dragon magic during the Blood-Oath Celebration, healing Eragon’s body and transforming him into a half-elf.

They were also responsible for contacting Solembum and telling him about the Vault of Souls and the brightsteel hidden beneath the Menoa Tree. Though they had remained unseen, they had aided Eragon and Saphira at every turn.

Just as they prepared to leave the Vault with the Eldunarí and join the Varden on the southern front, they sensed Glaedr’s intense emotions through his still-empty Eldunarí and began to see through his eyes.

They witnessed the entire battle against Murtagh and then watched as Galbatorix possessed the young Rider’s body.

Just as Eragon and Saphira believed they were about to witness the deaths of their teachers, the connection to Galbatorix was suddenly severed. Oromis and Glaedr survived and managed to capture Murtagh and Thorn.

Afterward, the elves swiftly captured Gil’ead with little resistance. Following the battle, Eragon and Saphira communicated with Glaedr through his Eldunarí and shared everything that had happened within the Vault of Souls with their teachers, who were understandably delighted by the revelation.

However, it raised a troubling question about Matt’s true identity.

He had clearly known about the Vault of Souls and its contents, which should have been impossible. Knowledge of the Vault had been erased from the minds of nearly everyone in the world.

Even the Eldunarí hidden within the Vault were surprised, for none of them knew who Matt might be. They were familiar with Tenga, having encountered him in the past and learned several spells from him, including the one Eragon currently used to carry the Eldunarí within a small pocket dimension.

From the moment Galbatorix vanished from Murtagh’s body, everything began to progress smoothly.

Far too smoothly for their liking.

While the elves continued their invasion from the north, Eragon and Saphira joined the Varden during the siege of Feinster. They captured the city without much difficulty, and the greatest threat they faced was a newly created Shade.

Admittedly, describing the battle in such simple terms felt strange. Shades were among the most dangerous and powerful beings that could appear in Alagaësia. However, with the strength of 136 Eldunarí supporting him, a newly formed Shade posed less of a threat and more of an inconvenience.

Eragon became a Shadeslayer for the second time, though he once again felt that he had not truly earned the title.

He had only slain Durza because Arya and Saphira had supported him and created the opening he needed. This time, he had overwhelmed a Shade named Varaug, who was little more than a newborn, with the aid of Saphira and 136 dragon minds.

Somehow, Eragon almost felt sorry for him.

How unlucky could someone be to come into existence under such circumstances?

Feinster fell without difficulty.

Belatona followed, and then Dras-Leona. With Murtagh and Thorn imprisoned by the elves and the Ra’zac already dead, no one remained who could truly stand in their way. One major city after another fell as the united armies advanced deeper into Imperial territory.

The soldiers fought bravely to defend their homes, but they were simply not strong enough to withstand an army led by a Dragon Rider such as Eragon.

The Shade had been their greatest challenge.

Meanwhile, there was no sign of Galbatorix. Neither the Varden advancing from the south nor the elves approaching from the north encountered any meaningful resistance from him.

None of them lowered their guard.

The campaign had been far too easy.

The united war council eventually reached the same conclusion: the mad tyrant was preparing a trap for them within Urû’baen.

Then the day finally arrived.

After conquering the entire Empire except for its capital, the armies of the Varden, dwarves, Urgals, and elves united beneath a single banner. Led by two Dragon Riders—one clad in blue and the other in gold—they finally reached the towering walls of Urû’baen, the imposing capital of the Empire.

They were prepared for the final battle, expecting a fierce struggle against the most powerful being in Alagaësia and the elite army under his command.

And yet...

“What is going on?” Eragon wondered aloud as he sat upon Saphira’s back, observing the city’s defenses from above.

“Your guess is as good as mine, Eragon,” Oromis replied from Glaedr’s back beside him. “Can you sense anything, Umaroth?”

The Eldunarí that had once belonged to Vrael’s dragon—the leader of the old Dragon Riders and now the foremost among the 136 Eldunarí—replied, No, which is deeply concerning. I should be able to sense the cursed traitor and those he has broken, but there is nothing.

Eragon could only agree with that assessment. He could not sense anything either. Everything about the situation suggested a massive trap, yet he could not understand what the trap might be.

“It does not appear as though they intend to defend the city, does it?” Eragon asked. “Wait, are they opening the gates?”

He could not hide his surprise as the soldiers below began opening the massive gates. None of them appeared to be armed.

From time to time, they cast worried glances toward the two Riders circling above, but there was no hostility in their expressions.

There was only fear.

This was not how Eragon had imagined the final battle beginning.

He had expected a desperate struggle for survival. Even with more than a hundred Eldunarí supporting them, the difference in power between their forces and Galbatorix remained enormous.

The tyrant possessed thousands.

“Uh, that does not look like a counterattack,” Eragon said as a single man rode through the gate. The rider was pulling a covered cart toward the united armies. “Could the cart be the trap?”

There is only one way to discover the truth. Keep your wards ready, Umaroth warned.

Eragon and Oromis descended toward the approaching man. He stopped a safe distance from them, though he remained close enough for them to speak without shouting.

“Who are you, and what are your intentions?” Eragon asked, speaking with the authority he had learned to wield during the past few months.

The man dismounted and stood beside the cart. He carried himself like someone accustomed to commanding others.

“I am Lord Barst Berengarsson, the highest remaining authority within the Empire,” he replied firmly. “I have come to discuss the terms of our surrender.”

They had expected many things, but surrender had not been among them.

Eragon could not stop a confused response from escaping him.

“What?”

“We wish to surrender,” Lord Barst clarified. “There is no reason to waste more lives. You have won. You have toppled the Empire.”

Eragon and Saphira blinked, sharing the same bewildered thought.

Were they dreaming?

Oromis remained far more composed. “Does Galbatorix have nothing to say about this? Is he waiting for us within his palace? Does he intend to destroy us without sacrificing any more of his soldiers?”

“I do not understand how he could have won,” Lord Barst replied, sounding equally confused. “After your decisive move several weeks ago, you left him with almost no chance of victory, even if he managed to discover the Name of Names.”

He gestured toward the city behind him.

“We did our best to continue the fight, but there comes a time when one must accept defeat. Nothing would change if we endured another siege. This time, we would be facing both armies at once.”

“What decisive move?” Eragon asked. “Do you mean the capture of Murtagh? How could your entire defense have depended upon him? Galbatorix had only possessed his service for a few months. What about Galbatorix himself? Should he not have been powerful enough to crush us?”

Eragon could not escape the feeling that he was missing something important.

This time, it was Lord Barst who stared at them in disbelief.

“You are not aware?” he asked. “But then—who?”

“Who did what?” Oromis interjected, his expression turning serious.

Lord Barst reached for the covering atop the cart and pulled it away.

Beneath it lay the body of a man with closed eyes, long facial features, and shoulder-length dark hair. He wore an old and weathered cloak. His hands were folded across his chest, gripping the hilt of a Rider’s sword.

It was perhaps the most beautiful blade Eragon had ever seen, aside from his own.

The blade was pure white, as were its hilt and crossguard. The diamond set within its pommel was as clear as a mountain spring.

Eragon realized who the man had to be, but Oromis’s loud exclamation confirmed it.

“The traitor is dead? Just like that?”

Galbatorix was dead without them ever having fought him.

“What happened? How did he die?” Oromis asked with complete seriousness from atop Glaedr, who glared at the corpse with undisguised hatred.

“His Majesty took his own life after realizing that he had no chance of victory,” Lord Barst stated gravely.

He then retrieved something else from the cart.

It was a single Eldunarí.

Eragon, Saphira, Oromis, and Glaedr could instinctively sense how broken the mind within it had become. Feeling the shattered remains of a consciousness that had once belonged to a proud dragon filled them with sorrow.

“This is the heart of hearts His Majesty entrusted to me,” Lord Barst explained. “I surrender it to you as well.”

“What about the others?” Oromis asked. “There should have been thousands of them in Galbatorix’s possession.”

He had already realized what Lord Barst was attempting to avoid mentioning, likely out of fear of their anger.

Eragon had reached the same conclusion.

Lord Barst hesitated for a moment before replying. “Someone emptied the palace treasury several weeks ago, nearly causing His Majesty’s death in the process. At the time, he was engaged in a mental battle in Gil’ead.”

His expression tightened as he continued.

“Everything happened so quickly. We have no idea how the intruder entered the treasury, but they used the king’s distraction to break inside and remove everything. His Majesty noticed the intrusion quickly enough to react, but whoever entered seemed powerful enough to withstand the full force of his mind long enough to escape.”

Lord Barst paused.

“The intruder was like a ghost. One moment, they were there, and the next, they were gone.”

Do not worry too much about it. I have a plan to deal with Galbatorix.

Eragon clearly remembered Matt speaking those words several months earlier.

At the time, he had dismissed them as empty boasting or perhaps a vague strategy to weaken Galbatorix. He had never imagined Matt intended to cripple the entire power base of an Empire that had ruled the continent for a century and nearly conquered every other nation and race within Alagaësia.

A disturbing realization struck Eragon.

Did that mean Matt now possessed all the Eldunarí that had once belonged to Galbatorix?

He had held them for weeks without saying a word. He had not even attempted to contact them during that entire time.

Dread began to build within Eragon.

What were Matt’s true intentions?

Did he intend to take Galbatorix’s place? Had they merely exchanged one tyrant for another—one who had now been fully trained in magic by the elves?

Could Matt be an even greater threat than Galbatorix?

No. Matt had sworn several oaths in the Ancient Language that he would not use his knowledge to bring evil upon Alagaësia.

However, could he bypass those oaths now that he possessed so much power? Perhaps he did not consider his intended actions evil. After all, oaths sworn in the Ancient Language were heavily influenced by the speaker’s beliefs.

Fortunately, Oromis spoke before Eragon’s thoughts could spiral any further.

“What about Shruikan?” Oromis asked. “Is he still within the palace?”

Lord Barst shook his head. “Fortunately, no. We feared the worst after witnessing the king take his own life. In truth, I expected that dragon to destroy the entire capital.”

His face grew pale at the memory.

“However, the black monster only killed the guards present in the throne room before taking flight and disappearing beyond the horizon.”

“In which direction did he go?” Eragon asked worriedly.

From everything he had heard, Shruikan was enormous. The dragon was also believed to be as mad as Galbatorix himself and had been fed human flesh for years.

“To the east,” Lord Barst replied. “No one has seen him since.”

[ End of the Chapter ]