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Brand awoke to the sound of wind blowing directly outside and sand smashing into the side of rock. For a brief moment, the man forgot where he was and assumed trouble would soon follow because of it. Several seconds passed by before he sighed in both relief and sadness all at once. The Hadarac desert. He was in the Hadarac desert.

For a split second, Brand considered his options of his current situations. *She most likely knows I'm not dead.* he thought and of course he was speaking of Saphira. Of all things, he did not want her to become involve with him let alone infatuated with him. He leaned back and placed his arm against his forehead. *Im nothing but bad luck.*

Brand gave out a sigh before finally standing up. Murmuring under his breath, he felt a gentle pull of his conscious towards a general direction. The home of his father. He had lied to Angela of course but than again it was nothing new. He lied to everyone he cared for. Brand was surprised he was able to even feel compassion to others.

But in the end, Brand shoved the pain deep down inside. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed his bag and supplies before covering his face with a scarf and heading out into the sandstorm. Immediately sand blew into his face, pelting him endlessly with needle like pain as he stumbled up a nearby sand dune, leaving the cave far behind.

For hours he stumbled through the air of sand, his vision covered entirely in yellow and brown. As he passed over a dune, Brand tripped and slid down the hill before suddenly rolling on his way down. After falling to a stop, he lay there for several seconds exhausted as sand began to pile in the corners of his mouth and his closed eyes.

A minute later and he slowly stumbled back to his feet. There he stood looking dumbfounded and slowly rage began to fill his eyes. His bandaged arm clenched tightly and he swung in a wide arc, a roar spewing forth from his mouth. Immediately the sandy winds calmed, the particles of grain floating all around him for several seconds from the unnatural stop before it all fell to the ground like a strange yellowish brown rain.

Brand screamed and fell to his knees, his arm grabbing the upper right one. After several seconds, he almost collapsed completely if not for his left arm shooting out to support him. Panting heavily, Brand looked at the top of his bandages only to see what was once healthy pink flesh now blackened and appeared to have been burnt.

His eyes wide in horror, Brand tossed his bag off his bag and dug through it as fast as he could. Soon he pulled a bundle of fresh bandages and wrapped his arm to conceal the black flesh. Breathing a sigh that he had it completely covered, he stood back up.

Brand had often thought of just cutting the wretched arm off but deep down he knew the truth. It was a reflection of Brands past sins, his curse forged and merged into his own flesh. Removing it would not heal what was already hurt, the taint would only corrupt another part of his body. It was the reason why he would isolate himself, be with the only man who could actually do something to ease his pain. The man that was his father.

"Please...I just don't want to cause harm anymore." He begged as he continued on only to stumble over something. Nearly falling flat on his face, Brand spun about to look down where he was only moments ago. For a moment he thought he tripped over his own two feet but than he saw it. A small spherical object, barely submerged in the sand.

"At long last!" Brand cried as he leaped down to his knees, brushing the sand way before seeing a symbol that had been lost for millennia. A symbol though that he knew.

Placing his hand gently down to cover the orb, he whispered in the ancient language only to feel a warmth shoot out from his arm and into the stone. Smiling, Brand stood back up and began to slowly step back. The ground began to rumble, the sand shifting and he watched as the stone began to rise from the earth. Higher and higher it rose until finally, a doorway stood before him.

It was taller than brand, the height nearly twice his actual size. On both side, two dragons reared up in mid roar while all around them the various species that had once existed, still existed and what were to exist etched into the stone next to them. All over the archway, red symbols glowed in throbbing rhythms in a dull light.

His journey over at last, Brand slowly took a step forward before another and another. Soon he was walking with tears streaming down his face but stopped just before placing his foot inside the massive doorway. For a split second, Saphiras bright blue face appeared before his vision and he shook his head, clearing himself of the sorrow.

*I'm...I'm sorry Saphira.* He thought quietly as he brought his foot up once more. Slowly, he began to place it on the threshold of the large archway, easing himself inside. *but I do not want to hurt anyone anymore. Especially you.*

Taking a deep breath, Brand began a long descent down into the darkness of a steep staircase. Not a moment passed before he was gone, the darkness swallowing him whole like a monstrosity of hell itself. A rumbling was soon after heard and the doorway slowly sank back into the sand leaving no trace that it ever was there.

He didn't know how much time passed since he started the descent into the bowls of earth. To Brand it could've been hours, maybe days but in all reality it was only a mere few minutes. Upon touching the bottom, his eyes shot up to watch as finely painted murals were suddenly lit up in a long hallway by braziers. Shaking his head he made his way down the hallway to a pair of double doors made entirely out of gold and silver, the same image of the outside door etched into its fine work.

Pushing them open, Brand revealed to himself a large empty chamber of such grandeur that he couldn't even see the ceiling high above. The darkness high above was like the night, his mind often tricked as he made his way through massive pillars towards a large bowl like indent that he was outside. But once more his mind was elsewhere, his eyes on the man standing over the large lipped pool.

The man was tall, far taller than him, his arms crossed over his finely robed chest while his bare feet did not move. The top of his head shone, even in the dim lighting from several braziers to indicate he was bald. His face was filled with what was stern wisdom and age but his eyes and beard showed a youthfulness he did not have. Handsome, but wise.

For several moments, Brand stood at the bottom of the flight of stairs leading up to the man. Suddenly, the robed man took a deep breath of air before turning to face him down. "What are you doing here Brand?" He asked slowly, his voice giving a hint of displeasure at seeing him here.

"The same reason you are." Brand stated. "Sealing myself from the world. "Sealing myself away. Just like you are...father."

Brands father only snorted before turning back to the pool. "Unlike you I have a perfectly good reason for being here." He grunted as Brand began to walk up next to him. Brand paused to look I to the pool, a liquid of kind of metal within. "The outside world would never leave me be. You are here because you are a fool."

Brand turned to look at the older man. "I am no fool father!" He cried, his voice reverberating through the cavernous chamber. Brand brought his bandaged hand up for his father to see. "You are! You and mother had me! You're the one who did this to me! Cursed me!" The next part he said in a barely audible hiss. "Made me a Demi-god!"

His fathers reaction was a prompt slap that sent Brands head shooting to the side. "I loved your mother and I damn well love you too!" His father roared into his face as he looked up angrily. "Don't you ever speak to me like that!"

"As what?" Brand yelled back, stepping up to look his father in the eye. "As my father? Or as the king of gods? What name do you go by now hmm?" Brand spat on the floor. "Gûntera? Bahamut? Elysium? What is your name now father?"

A sudden blow to the gut sent Brand flying backwards off his feet, his back slamming into a large stone pillar more than ten feet away. Yet even than, the pillar cracked from the force of the man smashing into it and he fell to his feet, only coughing from loss of breath.

"Fool!" Gûntera roared as he swung his hand over the pool of liquid metal. Slowly various mountains formed within it and Brand watched between blurry eyes as his father transformed into a dwarf in mere seconds. "I am the father of all! And most important you! No mortal could survive such a blow yet here you are...scurrying away like a mouse hunted by a cat!"

The mountains known as the Beor Mountains suddenly moved like a globe, disappearing on one side only to be replaced by what appeared to be the ocean, a small dragon figurine flapping its wings back to land. Atop of its back was a rider. Saphira and Eragon, returning to begin the assault on Urû'baen.

"And what of Saphira?" His father said in a more relaxed matter, his eyes filled with an unknown sorrow. Brand did not look up at the older man, refusing to even look at the small figure that was Saphira. "They go to fight Galbatorix, Saphira praying that she can see you again after. Does that mean nothing?"

Brand shook his head slowly. "It does not matter." He murmured as a single tear slid down his cheek. "She is the last female dragon. And even if she wasn't, I'd cause nothing but pain."

Brand jumped when he saw scaled feet in his eyesight and he looked up to see what appeared to be a humanoid white dragon standing over him. "That is not your fault Brand." He whispered as he held a clawed hand out to him. "When your powers first became awakened as my child, you had no way of controlling it."

Brand closed his eyes. "Are you saying that...all those years ago...when my own village was destroyed...?"

Gûntera nodded. "I am sorry Brand, but you're first assumption was right." The now humanoid dragon stared at him with sad eyes. "You accidentally exploded with energy, but it was my fault not yours." He looked down at his feet, his claws digging into his palms as he clenched his fists. Brand was surprised to see him crying of all things. "As your father I should've been there to help you control it. It wasn't your fault your mother died. It was mine."

Brand slowly stood up as the god king began to weep. "I should've been there. If I was there you never would have been out of control. It's my fault why you think you're cursed, the reason why you're like this." Brand was about to speak but his father held his hand up to stop him. "Brand you are not cursed." He looked own at his sons bandaged arm. "It is your immortal powers, trying to change your body. It has no affect on anyone else other than yourself. When..they went out of control it was only when you first became a full grown man and will never again occur."

Brand licked his lips. "Not cursed..." He said as he looked wide eye away. "But...I still committed horrible things. I wiped out the dragons, gave Glabatorix what he needs to become king, did all those terrible things." He looked up with tearful eyes. "I still sinned! I can't change that Father!"

His father nodded, his form shifting once again into a fair elf with lush blond hair. "Yes." He agreed slowly turning to walk up to the pool once more, his eyes watching as Saphira flew through the skies. "But you can become something that may be able to atone for them."

Brand looked past his father at the dragon he had come to love. "Father, I can't be with her." He said tearfully. "I-I...she's the last dragon! The last female dragon! If she doesn't mate dragon-kind may be well gone forever!"

"You are wrong child." His father whispered as the scene changed to show a large cavern. Sitting on a throne was what appeared to be a dragon shaped man, a sword in its hand. In the centre of the room was a large pit with a pool of molten magma and all along the walls, eggs shined in the dim light. "There are dragon eggs Brand, She is not truly alone. You can still be with her but..."

Suddenly Gûntera changed the scene to where Eragon was standing next to a fair Elven maiden, a small human child with a strange look to her face, and a spear held within the Elf's hand. Across from them sat a bald man with a charming face, a small white stubble of a beard on his chin as he sat on a throne. Behind him sat a dragon the size of a mountain, his eyes staring insanely at the people before them.

"No." Brand whispered as a conflict began only to watch as it grew smaller, several more copies of the scene appearing. More and more copied from this and soon hundreds of miniature versions of the battle were playing each with different outcomes but each almost always ending the same.

Gûntera breathed a sigh. "Saphira and Eragon will fight...but more than 84.698 percent of the time they will fail. Thousands of scenes stand before you, most will end with that they either die, be turned into serving him, or Saphira being raped by the dragon Shruikan." Brand closed his eyes at such a scene, tear quickly filling his eyes as the large dragon forced his will on Saphira.

"However..." Brands eyes shot open and he watched as every single scene changed once more, this time showing himself as he stood defiantly at his former friend. "...chances of them losing will decrease to exactly 19.135 percent..." Brand watched as his small version began to fight Glabatorix who was somehow stunned by something about the situation. His eyes gazed over several scenes where Glabatorix was ended by his own hand, others by Saphira, Eragon or even the elf maiden. "...and that's it. Your sins forgiven soon after."

"But even then..." Brand said slowly as he clenched his fist. "What am I to do? There is still that small chance and he has hundreds of eldunarí on his side, each filled with madness and anger." He looked up at his father. "What am I to do?!"

Gûntera slowly looked down at him with a plain face, a look in his eyes. "You fight Brand." He murmured. "You fight for what you believe in, you fight for everyone that came to harm by his hands. You fight to save your life and..." His eyes narrowed. "You fight to save Saphira."

Brand stared at him with a grim look for several moments. His mind racing with ideas, his heart pumping the fastest it's pumped in years. Yet while his mind and heart beat with dreaded fear, his soul was yelling something else to him.

Brand nodded. "I'll go and face him." He said slowly, a determined look on his face as he turned and began to leave. "But not for myself, not for the people, not for my friends." He stopped moments later at the double doors leading out. "But I will do this for Saphira. And no one else!" The doors slammed shut as he left, Gûntera slowly sighing. As he turned to face the pool once more.

It was some time later when the doorway slowly rose out of the sand dunes of the desert once more. Slowly Brand stepped out, grabbing the supplies he had left outside not long ago. Looking over his shoulder with bag in hand, he watched as the doorway rumbled once again. Slowly, the doorway disappeared and the fine carvings of the creatures on it disappeared from view. All save for the top of it, the round orb still there at the bottom of several sand dunes. Taking a deep breath, Brand murmured an incantation and felt a mental pull that he knew would lead to Urû'baen. And to his love.

Gûntera stood over the pool, watching as his own flesh and blood began the long journal to his final battle. Waving his hand over the liquid metal changed it once more to all the different battle versions he knew all too well, each representing not possibilities but actual timelines. The god king knew that in some that even he did not exist.

But that was not what he was looking for. His hand going over the pool once more, several scenes disappeared. Than he did it again and more vanished and again and again until only a select few remained. Gûntera did not tell Brand everything, there were several important statistics he had purposely left out.

"Chance of Glabatorix falling..." He murmured under his breath. "...without fail. Chance of Saphira dying...84.7602. Chance of Brand dying to save her and succeeding..." He paused at that, his lips shuddering back a single tear. "...98.869 percent." Tears welled up in his eyes before he blinked, the moisture falling freely. "I'm so sorry Brand...but the chances of you surviving are next to nothing."

The old god fell to his knees, his form now back to that of his human form. The old mans hands went to his face, covering his eyes as he wept. But each tear slid through the gaps of the fleshy barrier, falling to the floor with what he thought were exploding crashes. Gûntera, the king of not only dwarven gods but also all gods, began to cry for his son.

-/-

The following days flew by for Brand as he walked. The Demi-God didn't run but walked the great distance. Food and water was not hard for him to come by, all he did was either summon it from the ground by using the ancient language and hunted the animals by following their spiritual energy. At one point he actually stole from a simple farmer a traveling robe with a hood large enough for his face to be hidden.

And yet before Brand knew it he was standing atop a hill, overlooking a massive city that appeared to be readying for a fierce battle. But it had a good reason: just outside a just as impressive army stood out its very front doors. The Varden...readying themselves on the assault of the mad kings own castle and city: Urû'baen.

A loud roar suddenly echoed out from the darkness of the castle and Brand watched as a massive black dragon reared up, its wings unfurling. Shruikan, giving out a warning cry to Galbatorix's enemies. "I hope you're ready old friend." He murmured as the drake slowly withdrew into the massive castle directly in the middle of the city. "Because I will end this...here and now Galb."