The Name of Names

~39: The Thick of Battle~

We need to get a wordless spell in place. Vanya said urgently to Murtagh.

He agreed, You need to do it, though.

Me? Vanya asked incredulously, You have more experience.

Just do it. We will help you. Murtagh said insistently, and reluctantly, Vanya agreed.

We need a spell that will first bypass her wards, and yet also disable her. Vanya thought quickly, realizing how difficult it was to prepare for something that you didn't know exactly how the spells were worded or anything about which ones were used.

There was a tone of hesitation in Murtagh's voice as he added, It needs to kill her. Before Vanya could say anything else, he continued, it will save many people a hard decision, and destroy the chance for her to escape.

Vanya slowly understood, and began thinking through the necessary wording for the spell. It would have to be long, and would have to be worded carefully, and understood correctly. If Vanya's focus shifted just slightly, it may direct the spell towards Eragon, which would be a dangerous situation.

As far as we know, Ismira doesn't know about these type of spells? Vanya asked, mentally speaking the words without magic, trying to get the order and words correct.

As far as we know. Murtagh agreed, correcting Vanya's wording one time in her forming spell.

Seconds seemed like minutes, and minutes seemed like hours as Vanya, Murtagh, Saphira and Kaldar worked together to come up with a sufficient spell. Eragon and Ismira were still dueling, which was only possible, Vanya guessed, because of Ismira's usage of the name of names.

Even so, Vanya guessed that they had very limited time. Any time now, Ismira would decide that holding them captive here was too strenuous and taxing of her focus. Which would lead to their deaths, and then a battle of ultimate power, against the same.

So far, Eragon had refrained from using the name of names, and Vanya was guessing it was due to the mystery of what would happen if two spells, both which were doomed to success, crossed each other, with different purposes. And he hoped to avoid finding that out.

Ismira's lips turned up as she caught a glimpse of something in Eragon's mind. It was very unimportant, the usual concern for his friends, but she knew that that small lapse may doom another to happen soon.

She kept persisting, keeping her sword attacks as random as possible so as to keep him guessing, while her mental daggers became stronger.

Sure enough, another slip happened, and Ismira frowned as she studied what she had learned. This was important. A way to use spells... without wording them...

She dropped all her attacks, speaking quickly in the ancient language to place wards around herself, protecting against this new danger. The wording of the spell was tricky, and she had to connect it with the physical wards, which meant that every blow of Eragon's that she failed to block, meant that all of her wards took a toll on her energy.

But, she had been holding off her uncle well enough, with a bit of magic to aid her. And she didn't see how it could stop now.

As soon as she had finished the wards, she renewed her attacks, and felt a new spell digging at her newly placed ward. She staggered slightly, missing a blow from Eragon only by ducking and rolling to the side. When she returned upright, she smiled as nothing had happened, and the spell had been blocked.

"Your friends have failed." she announced, smiling at Eragon.

Eragon kept his expression neutral, but felt his heart sink just slightly. She had learned about the spells through him, and had protected herself against them. Which was, really, remarkable, considering she knew little about them, and hadn't known what precise spell they were using.

Through this whole thing, Eragon knew something was different about Ismira. She was stronger, and more capable with magic than was usual, and he didn't believe it may all be the source of the power. For the moment, however, Eragon shoved the thought out of his mind and focused again on blocking thrusting in turn.

Fenrir watched as Ismira-partner-of-life-and-heart fended off Eragon-killer-of-dragon-rider-king-Galbatorix. The fight was mostly even, he thought, thanks to the use of infinite-power-true-name-ancient-language.

Different emotions swelled up inside of him, and he knew that this was wrong. His thoughts worked slowly, but steadily as he understood what was necessary. Ismira may be angry, but it was for her good.

Ismira barely paid attention as Fenrir's thought began to take on a different approach. Her dragon would figure it out eventually, she decided, and focused on her attacks on Eragon.

For your good, Ismira. Fenrir's voice was solemn as it reverberated through her mind.

Fenrir, what... Ismira momentarily stopped her assault on eragon's mind, trying to understand, just as she felt Fenrir's scaled hand smack into her, sending her flying. Her wards were instantly depleted, and she felt the wordless spell begin to go through to her.