Disclaimer: I do not own anything or anyone from “Inheritance” trilogy.

- - -

“And when he falleth…”

- - - - -

“So, did I deserve your lies and treachery?

The curtain closes now,

The bell – it tolls for thee…”

- - - - -

Stars.

Silver flickering diamonds in the sky. So many of them… So distant, so beautiful, so mysterious and independent… so free.

Murtagh was watching them through the window of his room in Galbatorix’s castle, sitting on the rough chair. His gaze was dark and weary from all the torment he passed through in these last days. He rubbed his temples and closed his eyes tiredly.

Blasted Twins. They enjoyed torturing him every day, breaking inside his mind, shattering his only shelter, ruining all hopes in front of his eyes… And he could do nothing to stop them, so strong they were.

And Galbatorix… Murtagh shuddered, remembering his face when the Twins brought him back to the castle. He forced himself to think about other things, unwilling to recall all the horrors he experienced that day.

All his life he’s been someone’s prisoner. First of his father, then – of Galbatorix, then – of the Varden… and now again, of Galbatorix. Returning to the “roots”, huh?… Yeah, right. Murtagh sighed and looked outside again.

So bad he wanted to be free… Just free. Alone, without any cares, without being chased by everybody in Alagaësia just because of his infamous ancestor he had a misfortune to call his father… Murtagh longed to come back to the wilderness, cursing himself for letting Eragon talk him into coming with him to the Vardens.

How are they, speaking of that already? What are they doing now? What is Eragon doing? – Probably is traveling to Ellesméra in order to complete his training… Murtagh’s eyes flashed, as the thought fell on his mind.

He arose from the chair and came to his night table. He took the pitcher and poured some water into cup – not such a good mirror, but better than nothing, especially in his current situation. He focused on Eragon then, trying to scry him, and muttered:

“Draumr kopa.”

Nothing. Darkness.

Murtagh frowned and tried again. No success, only a strange feeling of… rejection? He raised his eyebrows in confusion. How odd… but then again, maybe he is just too tired and exhausted to use magic right now.

Murtagh sighed again, poured himself more water and drank it in one long sip. He glanced at the door. Locked, he knew it. And there is no use of him breaking the lock – this place is swarmed with guards.

“Maybe they will leave me alone tomorrow,” – Murtagh thought, meaning at Twins. – “And then I might try to scry Eragon again…”

He pulled the curtains over the window and quietly slipped into the bed, closing his eyes.

“Maybe tomorrow will be better.”

- - - - -

When Murtagh woke up the next morning, he felt himself slightly better. He lay in the bed, not opening his eyes, trying to remember his dream – it was so good…

After a while, since nobody was coming to question or torture him again, Murtagh got up, stretched, and came to the window, pulling curtains aside. It was a wonderful day out there, in Urû’baen. The castle and surroundings were drowning in sunlight that coloured the landscape in various shades of gold. Murtagh turned away from the window… and froze.

In the bottom of his bed there stood a dragon egg.

- - - - -

Murtagh’s first thought was: “How didn’t I notice it?!”. Then, carefully, he came closer to the egg, as if expecting for it to jump over him, and studied it from afar. The egg was red, the reddest shade Murtagh has ever seen. Tiny golden threads were entwining the egg, like a decoration. It was probably brought in his room while he was sleeping.

Murtagh knew what that meant. Galbatorix wanted a Rider for himself, obviously. The one for whom he’d know for sure he’s on his side, on the side of the Empire. Murtagh’s lips jerked in disgust… but then another thought crept into his mind.

“I can become… the real Rider…?”

He had to admit to himself, that in the depths of his soul he actually envied Eragon for his relationship and bond with Saphira. To have such a powerful ally as dragon by your side couldn’t be classified as a bad thing, could it? It is a huge risk, and even bigger responsibility, yes… But on the other hand – to have a friend you can trust your life to, the one who’ll never betray you, the one who shall always be there for you, supporting you despite all odds…

Murtagh narrowed his eyes and tilted his head aside, his hair falling onto his face. Slowly, he walked to the egg and touched its surface. It was smooth and firm, like a stone. Murtagh sat on the bed, his fingers flying across egg’s shell.

Suddenly, the crack appeared on the shell. Murtagh jumped away from the bed staring in disbelief on how more and more cracks were appearing on the egg. His mouth dropped open, when a little dragon showed out from the shell, looking around him with expression close to curiosity in his red eyes.

- - - - -

The dragon was red – complete contrast to blueness of Saphira’s scales. Murtagh wasn’t sure why is he referring to the dragon as “he”, but for some reason he was sure dragon’s gender was male. His red eyes were looking at Murtagh as if expecting something from him.

“Ah yes, I must touch him,” – Murtagh remembered.

He made a step forward, and then halted.

The dragon opened his jaw, showing his sharp fangs, and shook his head. It seemed he is waking up from a long sleep. He made few insecure steps across the bed, waddling on his short paws and let go an uncertain sound, glancing at Murtagh again.

The boy swallowed and clutched his fists. After all… why not? Eragon got a dragon, and he isn’t even that special – just a bloody farm-boy from godforsaken corner of the Empire! Why wouldn’t then son of Morzan become a Rider? Wasn’t it in his blood? Wasn’t that ability his inheritance? This dragon is so beautiful… and he is waiting for him. He came out for him.

Him.

Murtagh.

Not Eragon, not an elf or another human.

For him.

Murtagh’s eyes flashed with determination and pride. He threw his hair off his face and came to the bed.

“Hello, boy,” – he said softly, and extended his right hand towards the dragon, touching his forehead carefully.

- - - - -

The energy he felt within himself was amazing. Never before did Murtagh experience something like this, something so deep and blissful. His lips drew in a wide smile, as he was surrounded by silver light, his spirit entwined with dragon’s one.

Thorn, he whispered in his mind.

Dragon’s head jerked up, and he looked in Murtagh’s eyes with question. Murtagh nodded.

Yes, your name is Thorn, he said to the dragon, smile widening on his face, his heart filling with emotions so strong, he’s never thought he’d feel something like that. And you – are the most beautiful creature on this world…

- - - - -

At that moment the door in his room swung opened, and one of the Twins came inside, carrying a nasty grin on his face. Murtagh gasped, and instinctively stood in front of Thorn, as if protecting him. Gedvei ignazia shone on his palm with pure silver light.

“What do you want now?” – he asked the Twin… although he could easily guess the answer.

“The King wants to see you,” – the man replied, still grinning at him. – “You, and your pet. Better hurry. You know he doesn’t like to wait, aye?”

Murtagh’s muscles tensed. He knew it would happen. He turned around and looked at Thorn, who bared his teeth and hissed at the Twin. Then the dragon returned the look to Murtagh, his gaze already then, few moments after his birth, being so deep and wise.

“What am I supposed to do now?” – Murtagh thought with despair. – “I’m in the trap, again.”

Thorn blinked and tilted his head on the manner Murtagh did it before.

We must go, Murtagh heard in his mind.

But… to serve Galbatorix?, he objected.

Thorn made a step closer to the boy.

If that is what we need for survival – we’ll serve, Thorn said calmly.

How do you know to speak already?, Murtagh wondered.

I don’t know. I just do.

“Let’s go, whelp!” – Twin’s voice nearly made Murtagh jump, as he has totally forgotten about him while talking to Thorn. – “The King is waiting!”

Murtagh looked at Thorn, and resolution filled his gaze.

No stranger’s life is more important than yours and mine now, he said to him. And I shall protect our lives at any cost. Even if I’ll have to serve Galbatorix. I’ll do what it takes to protect us. No matter for the price.

He gently lifted Thorn in his arms and squinted at the Twin, who smirked and made “be my guest” gesture.

Murtagh cocked his head proudly and looked at the man with strange expression on his face, making Twin’s smug smirk disappear, being replaced by the one of suspicion and even fear. He tenderly stroked Thorn’s head, forcing himself to throw all the thoughts of Eragon and the Varden out of his mind.

“Lead the way,” – Murtagh said to the Twin then, his eyes suddenly flashing red, like Thorn’s.

THE END