Previously:

"Lord Perseus, is there anyway we can do the training differently?" He asked desperately.

"I would have to ask that as well," Edric said from outside the ring. Selina and Beckendorf stood next to him, presumably to keep him from running if he ever got that idea. It didn't look like he'd gone yet.

"Thalia, I do not think this is what I meant when I said to train them," Percy said as he lifted one leg over the ropes.

"But Percy," she said childishly, slouching her shoulders. She may have stomped her foot but don't let her hear you repeat that.

"It's blood, not nuclear waste, calm down."

"It's coming out of your chest!"

"But not my heart."

"It's two inches away from your lungs!"

"Exactly, it didn't hit anything important so calm down."

"Just let Selina patch you up, Ethan," Beckendorf sighed tiredly. "She'll leave you alone after that."

Ethan huffed. "Fine." He looked away defiantly as Selina almost smugly started fixing him up.

I watched in silent amusement. The battles we've gone through the last few months have left me more and more anxious for not only the Varden's mission but the process in which we would rescue Blackjack and my mother. The closer we get, the more restless we've all gotten. Laughter is something we don't really get much of anymore. I feel as though I've taken several steps backwards.

The battle for Dras-Leona ended not 48 hours ago. Before that, we conquered Feinster, Belatona and Aroughs. All major cities leading up to Urû'baen, the Empire's capitol, from the south. The elves were coming from the north, having just conquered Gil'ead. All that stood between them and the capitol was Bullridge, a city on the river.

The fights have been getting worse and worse. At Aroughs, Roran's magic friend, Carn died in a burst of fire in a fight against another magician. Not before he broke through their defenses and killed them as well. A hero's death. It saved the battle for the city.

My eyes were drawn to the bearded warrior sitting in one corner of my tent. A hero in his own right. He was staring at the mug he'd been handed from Angela-who was also in my tent. Katrina, his wife, was leaning against his side, giving him as much support as she could. He and Eragon have taken the latest battles a little hard.

Dras-Leona had been a trap for Eragon and it was only with the help from Arya, Angela and the Varden as a whole that we ended up winning.

Eragon sat not too far from Roran, Arya right next to him. As much as she denied him, even I could tell the elf felt for him. He was in the same position as Roran. Times like these, I could see the resemblance. He seemed to be deep in thought, though not lost in the past like his cousin is.

Since the Dragon Rider's journey to Ellesméra this last time, Eragon had gotten a weight lifted from his shoulders. He'd found out that Morzan, the king's right hand man was not actually his father. Brom was. (A much better father figure in my opinion) At the battle of Feinster, when he rejoined us, he'd been as light as a feather, no heaviness. It's back now but that is understandable, considering the aftermath of the latest battle.

Arya is now known as Shadeslayer because of her defeat over a shade. A magician possessed by demons. She was waiting for Eragon to come out of his mind so they could start planning. Zöe was having a small conversation with her while she waited. The two of them have gotten along terrifyingly.

Saphira's head poked in from the back, eyes closed. It made me miss Blackjack all the more so I forced my eyes to move on.

Thalia, Bianca and Vindex lay in a pile on the floor, dozing. Solembum took a strange liking to the winged dog and was curled up on his back, nestled between his two golden and blue wings.

A glance at Ethan, Selina and Beckendorf confirmed they were still arguing.

Edric and Ulthric had proved they could be trusted to hang out after battles in my tent. They stayed together in the far corner and away from the others but Thalia and Zöe weren't giving them dirty looks so I counted that as progress.

There was a heaviness emanating from each person here. (I am clueless as to why they all chose my tent but that's hardly relevant) the last four battles being so close together wore everyone down. Our joy in accomplishing our goals with these cities overshadowed by one pressing fact.

Nasuada.

For as many people were in my tent, it felt strangely empty without the regal leader of the Varden. At the end of the battle for Dras-Leona, Murtagh and Thorn had attacked. We were not prepared. We'd thought the fighting was over, and we'd gone our separate ways to rest. Of all the help my three all knowing sisters have given, they did not tell us of this.

We are far from all knowing, Percy.

Clotho.

I didn't reply, choosing to brood in silence with the rest of my friends in the tent.

In her absence, the Varden named Eragon as the leader. That was where his weight was coming from.

Percy, we may have a way for you to turn this around.

Lachesis.

How? I asked monotoned, not moving my sorrowful gaze from Eragon. I only saw one option and it was impossible. Going back in time. Unfortunately I neglected to grab a Time Turner when I was with Harry and his friends at the Ministry before they all smashed. I was failing my sisters in preserving their favorite world.

Cease these thoughts, brother.

Atropos.

I will not have them. She finished firmly.

You were brought for this moment, Lachesis said. Not the battles before this but now.

We saw this happening, Clotho began sadly.

And we prepared you and this world for it. Lachesis continued.

So that you would be able to bring about a better end. Atropos finished.

You have yet to fail a task you have taken up. Clotho said proudly.

I couldn't help but question their reasoning and logic. How? I asked again, not daring to hope.

By taking Nasuada's place. Lachesis stated.

How would this accomplish anything? I demanded. The Varden needs me here if Eragon's face is any indication of his future plans. He had the same face as the last time he was about to leave for somewhere for answers.

They would have Nasuada. Lachesis reminded me. And you don't have Blackjack so you wouldn't be able to help them the way they need. Not yet anyways.

I was silent for a while, watching the others in the tent. How would this work? You keep telling me what we'll do not how we'll do it.

- - -

"This is the stupidest thing you've ever done, Jackson," I muttered to myself as I looked down the hall of the castle. "Right up there with going into Tartarus again to gather intel."

I had used my godly powers to flash into Urû'baen, not too far from Nasuada's cell. My sisters had given me an image of where I needed to go. Flashing to places I have never been is actually not possible for a god, contrary to popular belief. We need to have seen the place at least. We could flash to the presence of someone we know well but that's a little more dangerous.

Breaking into the room wasn't too hard. All it took was freezing the lock then smashing it with Riptide. I entered to see the dark skinned leader of the Varden chained to a table.

"Percy?" She said incredulously. "How did you get here?"

"I'll have Zöe explain when you see her, right now, we need to go." While we had been talking, I broke her chains and lifted her up. In the next second, we were safely in my tent.

"What happened to her?" Zöe asked upon seeing her in my arms. She was the only one in the room, thankfully.

"I had no time to do a check up, Zöe , I still don't." I said sternly as I placed her on a cot covered in fur. "While I am gone, Nasuada, my warriors are under your command. Let Zöe and Selina give you a check up and you can get back to work. I will be at Urû'baen, working on Galabatorix's weaknesses and Eragon went to Vroengard to find something the Riders of the past left behind. Thalia went with him."

"Who authorized this?" Nasuada demanded.

I gave her a look I normally gave rebellious new recruits. "I did." Without another word, I was back in her cell. Now my cell.

Walking over to the door, I grabbed the handle and paused. I was very tempted to look for Blackjack and my mother to get them out as well. But my sisters were very clear. I would only have 3-5 minutes until Galabatorix sent Murtagh to find out what triggered the break in his wards. With a sigh, I closed the door and sat to wait on the table Nasuada was chained to.

After a while of waiting, I grew impatient. How long did you say again? I asked my sisters.

As if on cue, the door burst open to reveal Eragon's dark haired half-brother, a look of fury already on his face. It changed slightly when he saw me to one of confusion but went back almost immediately.

"Oh, hello, Murtagh, son of Morzan," I said pleasantly. "What brings you here to my humble abode?"

"What did you do with her?" He asked angrily. "How did you get here?"

I leaned forward, placing my elbows on my knees and smirked. "How sad is it, to have a prisoner escape after barely three days in capture?"

That had been the wrong thing to say.

- - -

Meeting King Galabatorix hadn't been how I imagined. I had imagined meeting him for the first time in the throne room. That couldn't be farther from the truth. Since Murtagh, the former ally of Eragon, had learned of his failure to secure Nasuada, every precaution was spent on me. That meant that not only was I secured to the table but I was also several leagues below his deepest cell that was originally a part of the castle. Magic was obviously involved, the wards much stronger and more complex than the ones surrounding Nasuada's cell.

Speaking of magic, I got a strange feeling from the king in terms of the mystical forces that governed this world. It felt restricted, controlled.

If there was one thing I have learned about the magic in this world is that the elves and humans here had a twisted view of its true nature. They thought they commanded it to do their will when using the Ancient Language. In reality, the magic is much like the sea. Wild, without law.

Hidden in their 'commands' there is a request, a wish. A hope that it will do what they intend. That is why so many people say that intent is key. That you need to mean it for it to work. Their power would be so much greater if they just asked.

Which is why Galabatorix's presence off put me. It was like he could blow up with all the magic he had restrained around him. It was much more than I'd seen on anyone else in this world.

The king looked much of what you'd expect from an evil king. A large, broad-shouldered man with a long black cape. His entire appearance was clouded by the poor lighting in the cell we were in.

I said cell when the more correct term would be cave. The walls were made of seamless rock any the floor an uneaten dirt. Torches intermittently lined the walls. A single entrance to the cave was at the end of the table my head was at. I would have to crane my neck every time I wanted to see who walked in that that was tedious.

The only other thing in the cave was a brazier full of hot coals. It had iron rods sticking out of it and I hated to think what they could be for.

"Welcome to Urû'baen, Lord Aniston," the king started with a menacing smile. "I must admit to my longing to meet with you for some time. The news of your arrival was unexpected, as was your dragon's. I am pleased to finally have the both of you within my walls. Though the loss of another one of my prisoners was a frustrating sacrifice."

The man's voice was oily. Smooth and evil but also powerful. As if he held all the cards.

"With the amount of spies you have in the Varden, I know you know my name," I snorted. "Do not pretend you do not know."

"Ah, yes," he hissed, amused. "You have given many names, Perseus Chaosson...Percy Jackson...Lord Ariston...son of the Ancient One...I find myself wondering which of them are right or if any are at all."

Really? "What reason would I have in keeping my identity a secret?" I challenged. "I have claimed to be the son fo the Ancient One. That would be the only thing I would have kept secret."

"Except that you did not."

"Exactly. I see no reason to, as how the only one to go against my father and win would be his own father, the Void."

There was silence as Galabatorix pondered that for a second. "I would not sell yourself so short."

His hint had me staring at his shadowed features in shock. "You expect me to join you in your world conquering phase—which is very teenager of you by the way—and turn against my own father?" Who did this guy think I was?

"Ever since the last of the Thirteen died, I have searched for those who were first to take their place."  The Thirteen he spoke of were the thirteen Dragon Riders that betrayed the Rider group with Galabatorix and took over Alagaësia. "Murtagh was the first I considered eligible and the first to survive the tests I set before him. You shall be next, I am sure and Eragon the third. I had planned to have Nasuada as well. And I will, in time."

The audacity of this man was astounding. What proof had he that I could overthrow Chaos? Or that I would in the first place?

"Should you live, you shall have a change to accomplish more than you ever could in your entire life. Think of it! In my service, you could bring peace to the whole of Alagaësia."

Considering what I knew about Chaos and his tendency to create worlds because he was bored, this king's short sightedness had me laughing.

My careless laughter angered him. He trailed a long finger along my arm, tracing the many scars I had. "Your scars are not all from battles," he observed in a whisper. He hid his anger well. "I am told that you have many more on your back and chest. Some spelling...unsavory words in the Ancient Language. By all evidence, you should be broken, at the will of someone else but you are not. That means you are exceptionally strong-willed. However this trait will not help you now. Indeed, it is a hindrance. Everyone has a limit, physical or mental. I only wonder..." he leaned in close, out of my sight... "how long will it take for you to reach that point? And you will reach it, I promise you. Why, then, should you suffer needlessly? Give me your oath of fealty in the Ancient Language and you will have all you desire."

Still I laughed. "I would have thought you'd have done your research before offering me anything like that, old man." His finger snatched away. "Nothing you offer can be of any use to me."

"So be it." The king's barely restrained anger leaking through.

The torture I went through at his hand was nothing compared to what some of the monsters did to me in the pit of Tartarus the second time around. I put on a show for him, however, while I worked on my plan to free Blackjack and my mother.

And Murtagh.