Eragon sat, stunned at the tale spun before him. His heart hammered in his chest, and each breath was hard fought as the air made its way into his lungs. Through his bond with Saphira he could feel her emotions, a turmoil of anger and sadness, and with his ears he could pick up the low keening that came from her throat. Eragon's gaze fell upon the bowl grasped in his hands, the soup's fine smell all but gone as the gravity of the last hundred years fell upon his head.
They were in Ceris now, with Eragon situated inside one of the many huts that made up the outpost. Over the last two hundred years since he had visited it had not changed much, but Eragon knew that the elves were a slow race, resistant to change. The four elves that met him were sitting around him now, eyes downcast and Lifean spun the tale of Galbatorix, and the fall of the riders. Each word weighed heavy upon the elf, the words quiet as his eyes locked onto the small table that the five of them all sat around. Saphira was situated outside, her massive bulk unable to fit in the small hut. From what Eragon could sense other elves were gathered a fair distance from Saphira, gazing upon her majestic form. Saphira paid them no mind, however, and listened intently through Eragon at what had befallen her race.
Shaking his head, Eragon's voice cracked as he reached for words, "I-I can't believe it," Eragon said, "w-why? It doesn't make-."
His voice cut off, and he glanced up to see the elves gazing at him, a great sadness in their eyes. None of them spoke, and Nari, the only female, gave him a comforting smile that did nothing to ease the pain inside. Taking a moment to slowly collect his thoughts, Eragon placed the half full bowl down upon the table, his hands shaking.
"There all gone, then," Eragon said, "all the dragons and all the riders."
At his words Lifean nodded, and Eragon watched as the elf swallowed roughly.
"Even Vrael?" Eragon asked, his thoughts bringing forth the leader of the Riders. The last time they had spoken had been nearly two hundred years, but Eragon could still picture the elf clearly in his mind, standing before the council with his white sword hanging proudly at his hip. Dispelling the image, Eragon watched as Lifean nodded once more.
"Galbatorix killed Vrael himself, "Lifean spoke, sadness pouring out from his words, "With his fall marked the end of the riders. None could stand against the self-proclaimed king, and even we elves suffered greatly."
Eragon's eyes widened, before quickly asking, "Who?"
Lifean seemed incapable of responding, and Wydren, who had mostly remained silent for the entirety of the tale finally spoke. "The king, Evandar."
Eragon's thoughts, already dark from the thought of his brothers and sisters, froze. Softly, though her own grief was large, Saphira's mind pushed against his own, attempting to comfort him. Little-one..
The elves picked up on the sorrow of the rider, their gazes turning away from the rider. There was a moment of silence between the six of them, before Lifean spoke once again, "You knew the king personally then?"
There was no judgement in the elf's voice, only curiosity tinged with sorrow, "Aye," Eragon spoke, clearing his throat briefly, "I knew him."
The elves deemed the information enough, for they did not question him further. Nari caught his gaze, and Eragon could see a question forming in her mind. It took her a moment to determine whether or not she should ask what ever plagued her mind.
"You are the human rider, Eragon Shadeslayer," Nari spoke, shocking Eragon from his grief momentarily. The other elves glanced between themselves, and Eragon could see their frustration from not noticing who he was. He could sense another question forming, one that pertained towards his appearance.
"Aye," Eragon said, his voice rough, "I am."
The elves remained silent, and Eragon was unsure of what they knew about him. It had been a long time ago when he last walked these lands, but he knew there were stories that were remembered by the elves with their long lives and longer memories.
Shifting slightly in his seat, Eragon turned towards Lifean, a question forming in his mind, "Who then, leads the elves in Ellesméra?"
Lifean responded, his words soft, "Islanzadí Dröttning, King Evandar's mate."
Eragon frowned for a moment, before dismissing the thought that had entered his mind. He sighed heavily, the grief still present, both within himself and surround the small gathering.
"Are their any Riders left, then?" Eragon asked, and he could feel Saphira curiosity rouse her.
The elves glanced between them, and Eragon could see something there. Lifean spoke quickly, his words flowing, "There is the traitor Galbatorix, and well as the red rider that follows him. There are rumors of other riders, ones who have lost their dragons, but there are no free dragons, Eragon-vodhr, if that was what you were asking."
Eragon frowned at the elf, aware that Lifean was dancing around the topic. The news of a red rider, however, turned his attention away. Eyes narrowing, Eragon asked, "Who is the red rider?"
The elves frowned, and Eragon sensed both a small sliver of rage, as well as sorrow flow between the four of them. Outside he could hear Saphira shift on the ground, and he knew that her head was facing the hut, ears listening for name of the rider.
"The red rider," Lifean said, his words hesitant, "is Murtagh, rider of Thorn."
Surprise erupted from inside Eragon, the words the elf spoken sinking in deeply, striking his heart. "Murtagh serves Galbatorix?" Eragon whispered.
He felt the ground shake as Saphira growled, anger boiling to the surface of her mind. Lifean shook his head, "All we know is that he does so unwillingly, bound by some dark twisted magic of the Black King."
Saphira stopped growling, her anger cut off. A question poised in her mind, and Eragon spoke quietly to her. Murtagh never was one to bind himself so deeply to another. Something must have drove him to do so.
He felt her agreement, perhaps this Galbatorix threatened Thorn? As much as I would hate it, I know that you would do nearly anything to save me. You already have done so-
I would, Eragon said, cutting Saphira off, in a heartbeat I would if it meant you would live. Murtagh was always rash and quick to temper, but he cared greatly for Thorn. If he serves Galbatorix, it is as a prisoner as much as anything else. This I know if him.
The elves were quiet as the rider and dragon spoke, but Eragon did not clue them into what he was thinking, nor of what he and Saphira spoke of. There was something that he wanted to ask the elves, but he knew that they would not answer him. Sigh once more, Eragon turned the conversation away from Murtagh. "I need to go to Ellesméra. I must speak with the queen."
Lifean nodded, glancing at the others quickly. "We sent word ahead to Ellesméra earlier, that we had a guest that would need passage to the city. If you would, Agretlam, we ask that you stay a night here in the city before we set out in the morning. Preparations need to be made for the journey, as well as warning those of your passage."
Eragon disliked waiting, eager to do something. He knew, however, that there would be time enough to follow.
As the elves lead him from the hut, Eragon was in deep thought. We should have been here, Eragon said to Saphira, his mind tainted with regret. We should have never left.
He felt Saphira mull over his words, silence raining down upon the bonded pair. You know that I feel the same, little-one, but if what the elf spoke is true, then we would have been cut down too by this black king.
He felt an anger grow in Saphira, one that slowly started the own fire in his heart. Yes, Eragon said, I know that, but I can't help the feeling that we should have still been here.
Yes, Saphira spoke, an ancient wisdom ringing from her words, but we are here now.
Eragon spent the night in a hut that the elves let him borrow, tossing and turning long into the night before finally falling into the weird, waking sleep that came along side the change in his appearance. The conversation that they had, the story of the fall, stuck with Eragon all night. His mind envisioned battle after battle, death after death, and all night Eragon could only mourn the loss of his brothers and sisters. To know that they were the last free dragon and rider was heavy toll, one that Eragon did not know how to bare. Saphira's own mind was grief stricken, but they took comfort, as they had for the last two hundred years, in knowing that they were still together.
In the morning they packed their belongings, as well as fresh food supplied by the elves. Only Lifean and Nari accompanied Eragon and Saphira on their journey, the rest staying behind in Ceris. They, Lifean had said, had a duty to protect the border, but escorting the rider and dragon to Ellesméra was of the utmost importance.
Of course, Eragon knew the way to the city, having visited it himself in years past. Still, he would not begrudge the company. It had been a long time since both he and Saphira had been with people who knew who he was and respected the position that being a rider held. Eragon was given an elven horse to ride, one that responded to commands in the ancient language. The elves made to show Eragon how, but he waved them off.
The trek was long, especially on horseback, and Saphira was not particularly happy that the elves had asked her to fly only at night, so to arouse no suspicion until they reached the capital. She had stared long at the two elves, and even made them swear a promise to her to protect Eragon. Only when they had done so had she finally allow them to leave, and as they drew away each day from each other, Eragon felt the loss of his partner substantially affect his mood.
Navi, upon noticing his withdrawn expression, asked, "Is it difficult for a rider and dragon to be separated so?"
Eragon sighed, feeling the keen sense of loneliness pressing down on him. "I can always feel her, to an extent, but it has been a long time since Saphira and I have been separated as such. I can hardly remember a time that we weren't together anymore."
Navi nodded, and Lifean spoke then, directing the conversation away from Eragon. The elves spoke instead of what had happened after the fall. The told him how the elves retreated into the forest, and the dwarves their mountains, as well as some of the varying stories that had arisen since. They spoke then of the Forsworn, and Eragon's heart drew heavy at the various named. Some he knew, others he did not, but when the elves spoke of the Banishing of Names only then did he realize that he couldn't recall the names of the dragons.
On the fourth day of their journey did they come upon the outskirts of Ellesméra, and Eragon gazed out towards the forest, remembering the last time he was here. They had waited there for Saphira to catch up, and only then did they permit Eragon to ride upon her back. The elven horses ignored Saphira fully, a fact which drew her ire.
Snorting, Saphira followed the horse as they drew close to the entrance to Ellesméra. Knowing what would happen, Eragon watch as the Lifean and Nari stopped and waited.
It did not take long for him to appear, his form slowly growing more and more substantial the longer that the pair waited. Gilderien the Wise appeared in front of Saphira and Eragon, and he saw the elf gaze upon them with sad eyes.
Lifean made to speak but was silence by a look from the old elf. Gilderien's gaze fell upon Eragon, who inclined his head in greeting. A small smile flashed on the wizened elf, before gesturing Saphira and Eragon forward.
Eragon spoke, his words soft, "Thank you, Gilderien-elda."
The elf nodded, and Eragon watched as the elf began to slowly disappear once more, returning to wherever it was that he went. When he was younger, Eragon spent some days trying to track down the old elf, but none of the other elves would tell him where Gilderien spent his days, and Eragon had long since given up. Saphira began to move, following the elves into the great city.
As they emerged into the city did Eragon finally see a gather of elves before him. Several members of the elven households were there, and many Eragon recognized. The sight of a few missing, however, drew a strange sadness upon him. Standing in the middle of the congregation was an elf with raven black hair and a beautiful red tunic. Her beauty was so great, but the expression on her face was so completely blank that it gave Eragon pause. Eragon jumped down from Saphira's back, watching as the few elven guards gripped their swords tightly in their sheathes.
Making sure to keep his hands away from his own, Eragon walked slowly forward, eyes roaming about, taking in all of the elves gathered before him. All of the elves watched him, their eyes shining as they took in the sight of Saphira. Some whispered words of praise, and Eragon could feel Saphira's joy at once again being recognized as the fierce beauty that she was. Lifean and Navi stopped in front of the elf, who Eragon thought the queen, bowing and beginning the traditional greeting.
Once the greeting was out of the way, did Lifean draw up to his full height, before making a sweeping gesture towards Eragon. "Islanzadí Dröttning, may we present Saphira Bjartskular, and her rider, Eragon Shadeslayer."
The elven queens face twitched at his name, the only reaction that Eragon had seen so far from the elf.
Saphira snorted, finally someone gets the introduction right! For so long I had to deal with being second.
A smile graced Eragon's face at Saphira's words. He chuckled softly under his breath, bowing before the elven queen. He made the traditional greeting of the elves as his escort had done, listening as the regal voice of the elven queen responded in kind. Islanzadí turned towards Saphira and greeted her first, as was the right afforded the dragons.
Once all the traditions and greeting were in place did the queen finally address the pair.
"It is good," Islanzadí said, "to have you here once more, rider and dragon. Too long has it been since we have had a rider grace our land, and we welcome you to the great elven city of Ellesméra."
Eragon bowed, "Thank you, my queen. It has been a long time since I have been here."
The queen nodded, turning towards the rest of the elves. "Go then, brothers and sisters, and bring word to our race of the return of Saphira and Eragon."
The elven nobles nodded, each leaving Eragon and Saphira with praises and glad tiding of their return. Eragon knew that they wished to hear of his story, but he suspected that the queen wished to hear it first. His guess was confirmed when she dismissed the guards, gesturing for Lifean and Navi to leave them as well.
Eragon said goodbye to his escorts, thanking them for their aid and knowledge. The two elves bowed deeply, and Lifean said, "It is of no consequence, rider. We only wish to repay what we can since our failure after the fall."
Eragon frowned but watched as Saphira paid her respects to the escorts. The elves wore joyous expressions after she spoke to them, her mind shielded from his. Turning back towards the queen, Eragon saw that she was studying him intently. So intense was her study of him that when they were finally alone did she finally relent.
"Tell me," Islanzadí said, "your story, Eragon Shadeslayer."
Eragon nodded, "How much do you know about me, Your Majesty?"
The queens gaze turned away, her voice soft, "I know only what my late Evandar spoke of, and even that was lacking. I do know that he considered you friend, and is the only reason I am holding this audience privately. Many would be angry at you, Shurt'tugal, for your disappearance."
Eragon felt anger well up inside him, as well as Saphira, but he steadied his voice as he responded, "We left, Your Majesty, at the behest of Vrael. I- I will not speak of why we left, but Vrael told us to return only when we thought it best. We had no idea what had befallen Alagaësia in the time we were gone. If we knew we would have rushed home, eager to join our brethren."
He watched as the elven queen took in his words, silent but for the sounds of the forest around them. Saphira shifted next to him, her unease rising like a tide with his own. The elven queen sighed, her posture dropping the tenseness that had gathered during his speech.
"Your reasoning is not as I had hoped," she said, "but better than it could have otherwise been. I am glad to hear that the two of the survived these past two hundred years, and am sorry that you had to learn of your orders fall in such a way."
She turned to Saphira, a great sadness in her face, "And of our failure of the dragons. Galbatorix has taken much, but his genocide of the dragons is his worst crime."
Saphira turned towards the queen, her voice showing the grief she still held, Thank you for your words, Islanzadí svit-kona. We were saddened as well to hear of Evandar-vor's death. He was a great friend, and we miss him deeply.
The queen's face fell further, her voice soft, "Thank you, Bjartskular. He spoke highly of the two of you as well. He would be happy beyond relief knowing that you two survived."
Islanzadí turned gesturing for the two to follow her, "Come, then rider and dragon, I have something that I must show you."
Eragon's brow furrowed, but he followed the elf queen out of the city. They headed towards the northern outskirts, where Eragon knew laid the rocky bluffs that house the Crags of Tel'naeir. It was a short trek through the forest until they reach a clearing. Turning towards the pair, Islanzadí gestured for them to stand beside her.
"Normally, I would have anyone who held such knowledge swear to never speak of it," the queen said, her voice steady despite her earlier emotions. "But the two of you are fully trained Dragon and Rider, and know already all the secrets that they held. Please, do not think too harshly of them."
At her words Eragon turned to her, his curiosity and apprehension growing, "Them?" he asked.
Islanzadí merely inclined her head out towards the bluffs, and Eragon strained his senses to find what she wanted to show him. It was several tense moments, before Saphira froze, her emotions rolling beneath the surface.
Turning towards his partner-of-heart Eragon said, Saphira? What is it?
She did not respond, but instead began humming softly. Only then did Eragon hear it.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
The sound grew louder, a sound so familiar to him that joy instantly sprang forward, a smile gracing his face. He turned to the elven queen, and saw that she too had a small smile on her face as well.
Above them, making their way over the bluffs was a sight that Eragon had longed wished to see. A great dragon approached them, its golden scales sparkling in the sunlight. A bellowing roar was let out by the dragon, shaking the very ground that Eragon stood on. Saphira responded in kind, her own roar loud and ringing in his ears.
They watched, enraptured, as the large dragon quickly made its way to them. As the ancient golden dragon landed, however, Eragon saw something that made his heart clench in his chest. Glaedr's left foreleg was severed, ending only in a stub. He heard Saphira keen softly at sight, but Eragon rushed towards the dragon, joy still in the fore front of his mind.
As the approached Eragon saw a frail figure leap down from the dragons back, and Eragon rushed towards the elder as quick as he could, Saphira turning quickly towards the older dragon. Stopping for a moment, Eragon watched as Saphira came up to the dragon, and watched in amazement as she bowed low, before roaring out again in joy.
Glaedr responded, his own joining with Saphira's. The figure slowly approached him, and Eragon turned to gaze at his old master. Oromis stood before him, his silver hair falling softly around his head. The elf looked older then Eragon had last seen him, and frailer too. He moved with slowness that he previously did not, as if each movement cost the elf. Placing his fingers to his lips Eragon greeted his master first, as was only right, before turning to greet Glaedr as well.
The ancient dragon's mind pressed against his own, a familiar feeling filling him, it is good to see you, Eragon, and you Saphira. That you would return to us whole is a boon. We have missed you dearly, and feared you had fallen with the rest of our kind.
Eragon bowed deeply towards the golden dragon, tears filling his eyes, we apologize, masters, that we did not return sooner. Had we but know-
"If you had returned," Oromis spoke, his voice calm, despite the shin that was in his eyes, "you would have joined our brethren. No, that you remained outside Alagaësia is perhaps all that saved you."
Eragon and Saphira nodded their ascent, even if they harbored feelings of regret deep inside. Out of the corner of his eye Eragon noticed the queens' approach, her gaze falling upon Oromis.
"You did not know either then," Islanzadí said.
Oromis shook his head, his gaze falling once more upon Saphira. "No, we did not. But not for a lack of scrying. No, I think perhaps our dear rider here has learned to hide himself even from our view. If that is so, then perhaps even Galbatorix himself doesn't know of their return."
Islanzadí turned towards Eragon, and he could see a sort of respect shinning out, "You have done well, Eragon-vor."
Eragon bowed deeply towards the queen, acknowledging the change in title, "thank you, Your Majesty. Saphira and I had to learn much to survive. One day, I shall share with you my tale, but for now-."
"Go," she said, waving her hand at the pair. "We will speak again, I would think, now that you are here with us. Your return will spread quickly among the elves, but know that we will guard your return as we have guarded all the secrets of the dragons."
Eragon nodded, before moving towards Saphira. He jumped swiftly up her back and into her saddle, strapping his legs in with quick movements. Saphira wriggled beneath him, no doubt eager to fly along side one of her kind again. He watched with joy in his heart and Glaedr bent down low, and Oromis moved with surprising quickness up into the saddle. Though they were both wounded, it seemed that their masters still had a surprising amount of life left in them.
Turning towards the elven queen, Oromis said, "By your leave, Your Majesty."
Islanzadí nodded, her gaze once again falling upon the pair, "Go then, Shurt'tugal and dragons."
With a roar Glaedr launched himself into the air, with Saphira following quickly behind, watching as the forest of Ellesméra faded beneath the clouds.