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Chapter Text

Yuna sighed, sorting through the dusty books tiredly. It was a long day of thankless work, but such was the lot of life for a student at the Winding Circle Temple.

Her name was Yunalesca ei Caine and, like a small number of other students at Winding Circle, was training to be a mage. She still remembered the day, when she was just fifteen, she was tested for magic, still remembered the happiness on her distant mother’s face as she shipped her only daughter two hundred miles from her home in Lairan.

She was from a noble family, but that did nothing to reduce the stress added onto her shoulders. Her family was an old line, but also an unlucky one. The funds passed down to each new generation were often squandered or lost needlessly. By the time her father had died when she was nine, leaving her mother just enough money to provide for the six children he left her with. The aging woman quickly snapped from the pressure, drinking herself into a rarely ending stupor of alcohol starting when Yuna was just thirteen. The drain on funds forced Yuna to care for her five younger brothers as if it was her task in life, her mission.

At first when Yuna was named as mageborn, she worried for her family’s future. Her mother, she knew, would be much less than helpful. However, her twin brothers were thirteen and able to care for their younger brothers well enough. With that knowledge, Yuna allowed herself to be shipped south towards Emelan.

Yuna was studying smithmagic. It was hard, but she loved it more than she could say. Frostpine, her teacher, was ecstatic that someone else shared his gift after years of searching. She was quickly flying through the curriculum he had set, impressing quite a few dedicates in the process.

After a quick dinner with Rosethorn and Lark, the two other mages-in-training that lived at Discipline cottage with her, Yuna bade her friends goodnight. Rosethorn was learning to be a plantmage, and a talented one at that, while Lark was a new arrival, learning spinning and weaving at the looms.

Yuna sighed, her limbs tired as she fell onto her bed. Her breathing calmed and her heartbeat slowed as she sank closer and closer to sleep.

Just before her vision clouded with sleep, there was a frightening flash of green. When the green faded away after nearly a minute, it faded to black.

 In another world, three beautiful horses galloped through a darkened forest. Each horse bore a single rider.

The first was an elf with pointed ears and slanting eyebrows, accenting his angled features. A bow was slung across his back, and a sword was sheathed at his side opposite a quiver of arrows fletched with swan feathers.

The third was just as fair, with a face as angled as the first. He cared a long spear in his right hand as his left held the bridle. A white dagger was sheathed at his belt. An amber and gold helm of the highest quality rested on his head.

The second, who was undoubtedly being guarded by her companions, was an elven woman with shockingly black hair with bangs that threatened to fall into her eyes before flowing down her back. Her dark eyes shone with a patient determination as she stared into the forest ahead. She, like the man in front of her, carried both a sword and a bow with swan-fletched arrows. Her clothes were plain but did not take away from the beauty she possessed naturally. In her lap was a small bundle that she looked at frequently, reassuring her that it was not lost.

One of the elves, the man in front, murmured something about ‘urgals’ to the woman, who gave her approval to his plan. The two guards switched places and the man with the spear shifted his grip to hold it better.

Suddenly, there was chaos. The horses began to rear up on their back legs in alarm, tossing their manes about. Their riders tensed in anticipation. Without a word being shared, all three turned away, speeding towards the direction in which they had come. The woman’s horse pushed itself forward, leaving the other two riders and horses behind.

From the trees came the creatures which had frightened the horses. They were humanoid, but distorted; as if someone who only had a vague description of a man tried to replicate the idea in clay. They were of an average height, if not slightly taller than most men. Their legs were bowed, their arms thick and muscular. They each possessed a pair of twisted horns which grew from above their small ears. Each bore a roughly circular shield made of iron and short swords of matching silver.

A man accompanying the creatures- urgals- stepped towards the escaping elven woman. He looked almost ordinary, with his normal proportions. He was on the taller side, but not unreasonably so. What really raised alarms was his crimson hair and blood red eyes. A long pale blade was sheathed at his waist, which shifted slightly as he raised his right hand, revealing a long thin scratch down the flat of the blade.

“Garjzla!” he shouted out. A red bolt of light flashed from his palm towards the woman, lighting the trees scarlet. The bolt of light connected with the white horse and the steed supplied a high-pitched squeal as it toppled straight into the ground chest-first. The woman hardly batted an eyelash as she left gracefully off of the poor animal’s back with inhuman speed, landing lightly on her feet a yard away. She took a moment to glance around for her guards, and cried in shock and distress at what she saw.

The elf could only stare as her two guards, companions, and friends were brought down by the urgals’ weapons. They were dead before they hit the ground, their steeds dying with them. Blood pooled at the urgals’ feet and they were quick to celebrate, buying the woman precious time to run on foot.

“After her! She is the one I want!” the man with red eyes shouted angrily at his minions. They stared at each other for a moment before joining in on a vicious war-cry and ripping their way through the forest, searching for the woman.

Ignoring the urgals as they created a small path of destruction through the trees, the man with red eyes ascended onto a granite boulder, smoothed by time and the elements. He raised his hand, the sword once again shifting ever so slightly with the movement.

“Istalrí boetk!” he uttered. A quarter mile of forest bloomed into flames, quickly spreading through the pine forest. The man repeated the process until there was a ring of fire half of a league across encircling the ambush site, leaving less space for the urgals to search, wanting this task to be finished quickly and efficiently.

He was satisfied when he heard a panicked cry. He followed the sound with his eyes, only to see three of his twelve urgals fall by the woman’s sword, now dripping black urgal blood, before she bounded away like a deer. On the bright side, she fled towards him, ending up twenty feet below him on the forest floor. Judging the distance, the man jumped down, landing nimbly beside her as the urgals surrounded both hunter and prey.

“Give it to me,” the man said, delighting in her desperate helplessness. Her eyes widened ever so slightly with panic, she reached into the pouch that she had somehow managed to hold on to. The bag fell to the ground, leaving a smooth sapphire stone in her hands. Fiery light danced across the surface of the stone as she lifted it over her head, murmuring frantic words so low that the man could not hope to hear.

Now growing desperate himself, the man barked, “Garjzla!” as he raised his hand once more. Another red bolt flew from his palm, aimed directly at the elf and speeding through the air as quickly as an arrow. Half a second before the red light collided with the elven woman, there was a quick burst of green light that vanished as quickly as it had appeared, taking the green stone with it.

The red light hit her and she fell to the forest floor.

Regardless, the man howled in rage. In a fit of anger, he drew his sword, launching it at a tree as one would a javelin. The sword sunk halfway into the tree, quivering from the force used to propel it away from the man.

He confirmed that the blue stone was gone before fetching his dark horse from its spot in the trees. He tied the beautiful woman to his saddle, unaffected by her entrancing features, and mounted his horse, drawing his sword from the tree.

He quenched the fires in his path only, leaving the rest of the forest to burn.

Chapter Text

Eragon, a boy less than two weeks from manhood, notched an arrow in his bow, breathing deeply to calm his senses. If he missed this kill, his family would have to wait until he could go hunting again which, depending on how bad the weather was this late in the fall, could be weeks.

He was crouched at the edge of a glen, his eyes counting the twenty or so sleeping deer that were curled up on the grass, revealed to him by the moonlight. Eragon crept as close as he dared, taking a final steadying break before-

An explosion shattered the calm of the forest and the night.

Cursing under his breath, the fifteen year old boy loosed his arrow at the quickly retreating deer. It missed a doe by half an inch, if that. Cursing again, he spun around to the location of the explosion, instinctively notching another arrow.

There, where the deer had been, was a large ring of smoldering grass that extended into the trees. The sudden explosion had stripped the surrounding trees of their needles. The grass outside of the charred circle was flattened as if by a fierce wind.

In the center of the circle was a young woman who, from a glance, could not be over sixteen. Her skin, somehow unmarred by the green explosion, was shockingly pale against her dark clothes. She wore a simple dark red tunic that ended at her midriff with sleeves that hugged her upper arms, cutting off halfway to her elbow. On her hands was a pair of fingerless black gloves. Her legs were dressed in dark leggings that clung to her skin and ended in leather boots much like the ones on Eragon's feet. There was a leather satchel that hung loosely off of her shoulder, sitting calmly beside her thigh. Long chestnut brown hair fell in loose ringlets to the small of her back, with bangs framing her face that ended just above her shoulders. Her features were angular, not unlike a cat's, which brought out the fullness of her lips. There was a smug smile on her face, as if she knew a secret Eragon did not.

There was something about her that was beautiful, but also something very mischievous. If she hadn't appeared out of nowhere, let alone scared away his prey, Eragon might have blushed from the bare skin exposed by her tunic.

Eragon was wary, of course. He had been told dozens of stories of magic and learned to treat it, as well as any who used it, with caution.

He reached out towards her with the arrow held in his hand, carefully guiding the blunt end to poke her in the shoulder. She shook slightly when the fletching connected with her bare skin, but gave no other acknowledgement.

Eragon studied the area around him, sure that the girl was not a threat, at least not until she regained consciousness. He was surprised to see that, on either side of the girl, were two large and perfectly oval stones. One was a deep sapphire blue that was webbed with white tendril veins. The other was glistening silver that was thickly webbed with a deep violet.

Just as he was about to investigate, he heard a groan emanating from the mysterious girl. Curious and concerned, Eragon knelt over her as she tried to move to a sitting position.

"Whoa, whoa, easy there," he said in a low voice, gently pushing down on her shoulder to keep her from moving. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," the girl said, rubbing at her eyes. When she was satisfied, she looked up at Eragon before looking behind him. "Um- Where exactly am I?"

"Don't you know?" Eragon asked, surprised. "You're in the Spine... And pretty deep in, too. You're lucky I was hunting over here, otherwise you could have been attacked or something."

"Attacked? Attacked by what?" she asked, oblivious to the dangers of this new world. Eragon's confusion showed on his face.

"Bandits, bears, wolves, the occasional urgal," he listed. "Anything, really. The Spine's full of hungry animals, especially this late in the fall... Are you headed somewhere? The closest village around these parts is Carvahall. I could take you there."

"I don't want to be a bother," the girl said suddenly, blushing ever so lightly. The pink tinge was lost on Eragon, who moved to cross his arms.

"I'd appreciate it if you let me get you out of the Spine. It's a dangerous place for anyone, let alone an unarmed woman."

"Ooh, chivalry," she teased lightly. "But are you sure? I really-"

"Humor me," he interrupted dryly. She sighed dramatically, holding out her hand.

"Yuna Caine. Pleased to meet you," she said, introducing herself. Eragon shifted his bow to his left hand, accepting her hand.

"Eragon... Let's get out of the open. I know a spot where we can make camp," he said confidently. He made to leave until Yuna caught sight of the two stones. She knelt beside the blue and white one, reaching a hand towards it. "What are you doing? Don't you know that that could be dangerous?"

"I don't think it is," she murmured, laying her hand on it. She studied it, feeling its cool texture. She was not fooled though; she could sense a burning heat running just under the surface, away from prying eyes. The stone felt unlike anything she had ever seen or touched, leading her to believe that there was definitely more to it than a smooth rock. Without a hint of hesitation, she lifted the surprisingly light stone and slipped it into her bag. She also lifted the silver and purple stone, cradling it in her arms. With a satisfied nod, she looked at Eragon.

"So... Camp?"

"Camp," he agreed, gesturing towards the trees.

The trip back to Palancar Valley was a smooth one. Yuna, much to Eragon's surprise, was a skilled huntress, having had to care for five growing boys for almost three years after her mother broke under the pressure. It was with her help, and just a little luck, that they had managed to bring down a young doe.

With the carcass in tow, the two kept up both a brisk pace and easy conversation, mostly about themselves and the mystery of the stones. The miles melted away under their feet and they arrived at the edge of a ravine in the evening. Eragon explained that the Anora River rushed at the bottom of the ravine, leading into Palancar Valley. With that, he led her to a thicket to make camp, which was done in good time, leaving the two more time to talk around a banked fire and watch the moon rise.

The next day, they hiked past the Igualda Falls which, as Eragon explained to Yuna, was the northernmost point of the valley and just a small stretch from Carvahall, a cluster of wooden and aging buildings.

Their trek continued down from the peak of the Falls and into the valley itself. Carvahall was one of two villages in Palancar Valley, the other being Therinsford in the south. Apparently, it was only visited by merchant and trappers. It wasn't a popular travel destination.

From the description Eragon gave her of stout log buildings with wide porches and the smell of wood fires, Yuna was reminded briefly of her home in Lairan. The comparison only grew stronger when the village was in sight.

"Why don't you stay with my family for the night? You don't have any time to arrange anything," Eragon said as he and Yuna walked through the streets of the village. Yuna shook her head.

"I've already been so-"

"If you're going to say bothersome or troublesome, you're definitely coming," Eragon said seriously. He had spent enough time with the girl to know that she hated to inconvenience anybody.

Letting Eragon win quietly, Yuna sighed. Eragon's serious expression turned to a smug grin as he turned off of the road towards the west. There was a simple path, surrounded by waist-high grasses and up a small hill, which was all but hidden by the shadows of elm trees. Once the pair crested the hill, the house came into view.

The house had a shingled roof and a brick chimney. Eaves hung over the whitewashed walls, shadowing the ground below. One side of the enclosed porch was made into a pile for firewood. There was a neat mess of tools splayed across the other side. There was a barn in the distance, its colored faded away by age and weathering.

The two walked to the front door and Eragon knocked lightly on the window.

"Uncle, its Eragon. Let me in," he said clearly. There was a muffled whisper of movement then the door swung inward.

There, standing with his door on the hand, was Eragon's uncle, a man by the name of Garrow. His cloths were worn and nearly threadbare, hanging off of his body like rags off of a scarecrow. His face was gaunt and lean with intense dark eyes staring out from under graying hair.

"Who's that?" he asked brusquely, spotting Yuna from her spot behind Eragon.

"Uncle, this is Yuna Esmesdaughter," Eragon introduced, remembering Yuna's mother's name from their conversations. It had been a moment of culture shock to realize that Yuna's people inherited their last name instead of claiming their father or mother's first name. "She was lost in the Spine and I offered that she stay with us for a while."

"It's a pleasure to meet you. Eragon told me so much about you on our way here," Yuna said warmly, smiling at the intimidating man. Eragon walked past his uncle and his new friend to the kitchen to begin preparing the deer.

"Yuna is an excellent tracker, Uncle. She tracked down this doe on the way back," Eragon reported as he divided the venison into steaks for future use. He gathered the fur up, intending to cure it later.

"How exactly did you meet?" Garrow asked suspiciously. Yuna stared at the ground as Eragon retold the story. When he finished, Garrow's eyes were narrowed. "Selling the things is probably the best thing to do. The less we're involved with magic, the better... How was the weather?"

"Cold. It didn't snow, but it froze every night," Eragon replied quickly. Garrow looked worried by the news.

"Tomorrow you'll help Roran finish harvesting the barely. If we can get the squash picked too, the frost won't bother us," Garrow said, sounding unconfident in his crop. Yuna perked up.

"I worked on my father's farm after he died. I could help as well. It's the least I can do for sheltering me," Yuna said earnestly.

Garrow narrowed his eyes once more before grunting at the girl and trudging away. Eragon leapt up from his seat in the kitchen.

"You can stay in my room," he offered. Yuna was about to open her mouth before Eragon raised an eyebrow, daring her to speak. Seeing his expression, she swallowed her argument and let the fifteen year old lead her away once more.

Chapter Text

Sun streamed through the window, splashing across Yuna's face. She stirred and sat up, reacquainting herself with her new surroundings. She was in Eragon's bed, while the young man was bundled in a cocoon of blankets in his cousin Roran's room after outright refusing to even slightly taint Yuna's honor by sleeping in the same room.

Honestly, she thought tiredly to herself as she prepared herself for the day. She slipped her boots back on her feet, glancing in a reflective panel of metal to check her appearance briefly. Satisfied that she was at least presentable, Yuna skipped down the stairs to the kitchen, where the three men of the house were already eating breakfast.

"Good morning," she said cheerfully as she sat down at the table. "Thank you again for letting me stay over. I promise to help today."

"What do you mean, help?" Roran asked, sounding surprised at her declaration. He was tall, muscular, and sure with each movement. It was obvious that he was older than Eragon, but it was just as clear that they were very close. "A field is no place for a young woman such as yourself."

"I worked on my father's farm he died when I was nine. My younger brothers and I have been running it for years," Yuna shrugged. "Also, I worked as a smith's apprentice for almost a year before I- well, appeared here. I'm used to working hard and long."

"Alright," Roran said, sounding dubious. "Remember to take a break if you feel tired," he cautioned.

The work was enjoyable for Yuna, reminding her of easier days. She was surprised by the passing of days. She always intended to leave, but couldn't quite bring herself to settle on when to leave the place that had become so comfortable for her.

Three weeks passed quickly with the remaining fieldwork and the dullness left in the wake of a fierce snowstorm. Then, of all things, the traders appeared.

Against Yuna's silent wishes, the sapphire stone was packed amongst the supplies destined to be bartered away. The silver stone was safe, hidden in her bag while the family's surplus produce was tucked away. Garrow secured his money in a small leather pouch fastened to his belt, Eragon nestled the blue stone amongst bags of grain, and the group was ready to leave.

By noon that day, Carvahall was in sight of the wagon. Yuna was riding alone in the wagon as Garrow steered, with Roran and Eragon leading the horses from either side. The village was filled with shouts and laughter in the daytime, a stark contrast to the night life. Wagons, tents, and fires were spread across the village and an outlying field, betraying that the traders were in town once more.

The town was full of new energy. Horses neighed at the unfamiliar surroundings. Bonfires kept the winter chill at bay. Roasting hazelnuts filled the air with a dark and rich aroma that wafted around the crowds.

Garrow quickly picketed the horses and separated the three teenagers. Eragon was to come with Garrow to visit Merlock while Roran and Yuna were free to do what they wished. Each were given a small amount of coins, Yuna included, and told to stay out of trouble before Garrow vanished into the crowds, taking Eragon and the blue stone with him.

Roran said goodbye to Yuna just as quickly. Yuna, who had no doubt in her mind that he was off to see Katrina, did not feel offended. She didn't want to be a third wheel, in any case.

Spinning off in her own direction, she found herself outside of a forge. She could feel the heat radiating from the low and hot fires. There was a distant ringing in her ears- the ringing of a top fuller- as she was brought back to memories in Frostpine's smithy.

"You must be the girl Eragon found in the Spine," a rumbling voice said, ringing with a touch of curiosity. Yuna whirled around to see who, by Eragon's description, could only be Horst, Carvahall's smith. He was huge and muscular and seemed to cast a shadow on all around him. He emanated power, but it was comforting to Yuna. He reminded her of her master.

"Yes. I'm sorry if I intruded on anything. I was an apprentice to a blacksmith for the past year so I was-"

"Really?" he interrupted curiously, a keen light in his eyes. To Yuna, he seemed almost amused by the idea. "Who was your master?"

"I doubt you'll know his name. Frostpine? He was the headsmith at the temple I lived in."

"So you are a...?"

"That's complicated," Yuna said as her face contorted into a wry smile. "Frostpine taught me that smithwork was a type of magic, so I suppose I was studying to become a mage- or a magician," Yuna corrected, remembering that, in this land, they called magic-users magicians.

Horst let out a bellowing laugh that rang in Yuna's ears.

"Well then, why not see your skill, O Magic One," he said in a light and teasing tone, his dark eyes smiling paternally. Yuna smiled shyly.

"What would you like to see?"

"What metals do you work with?"

"All types. Gold, copper, and iron, mostly," Yuna answered, shrugging. Horst smiled broadly and, after searching through a small pile of scrap-metal, lifted a sword that had somehow broken itself in two.

"You're first test," Horst said, offering her the destroyed weapon. Yuna looked at it appraisingly, taking the two halves in her hands.

"I've never worked on a sword before... Hmm... Let me try it..."

Horst offered her full use of his forge, provided she didn't damage anything, and the young smithmage-in-training set to work. He watched with interest as she set the metal to heat and explored the forge, familiarizing herself with it. He was surprised when she fetched a bucket of water, placing it very close to the anvil.

When the broken sword was cherry red, Yuna reached in to grab the hot metal with her gloveless hands. Horst, seeing this, panicked.

"No, you need-" The words stopped on his tongue as Yuna laid the metal on the anvil calmly, flipping her hand to show him its unburned skin. "How did you do that?"

"It's a gift," was all she said as she carefully selected her tool and began pounding away at the slowly cooling metal. Each blow was well aimed and powerful, showing her ease with the work. Every now and then, Yuna's brow would furrow slightly and, curiously enough, she would dip her hand into the bucket of water and flicked droplets onto the metal. The water evaporated on contact, hissing violently.

"Behave," Yuna ordered under her breath. The metal was shaped under her hands and, just as dinner was being called, she lowered the completed weapon in her hands, staring at it with a strangely blank expression as she tested the balance.

Yuna passed it to Horst, who studied it with a careful eye.

"This is fine work... How long did you say you learned under your master?" he asked as soon as he found his voice. The sword was indeed good quality. Nothing he would have expected from someone who had never worked on a sword before.

"A little more than a year," Yuna replied. Horst looked at the sword, then back at her, before passing the weapon back to her.

"Keep it," he ordered. "Your first weapon. It's an important milestone in the life of a smith. Especially in these mad times."

"But-"

"Keep it. You have quite a talent," Horst complimented, forcing it into her hands. Finally, she relented.

With the sword back in her possession, she studied it for the first time.

At some point in the process of its creation, the metal had picked up a reflective black hue, as if it was made of obsidian. The metal was no less pure, as she could tell, but seemed different; stronger. The blade itself was about two feet in length, with a hand and a half style hilt. It was sharp on both sides and had a gentle curve that narrowed ever so slightly meeting in the in a point at the very end of the blade. The hilt was of the same blackened metal, but was twisted around with a silver shine.

"Thank you, sir."

"Nothing to it. Now, we better get to supper before the wife has both of our heads," Horst joked in his deep voice. Yuna smiled at the smith's sense of humor but nodded, following him away.

She carefully concealed her new sword, unsure of how Garrow would react if he saw it. Most likely, he'd try to sell it. That was something Yuna couldn't allow to happen. Since she arrived in this strange land, this Alagaësia, everything she had or ate was something borrowed. Now, she had two possessions: the sword in her hand and the stone in her bag. Neither was going to leave her person without her permission.

Chapter Text

After Brom's tale of the hardships wrought upon this land by their mad king, Yuna was startled to hear that it was a true story. Yes, it could have been skewed by age and retellings, but it was abundantly clear that the fundamental details were true.

Even so, Garrow took the three teenagers back to the house, the wagon empty of produce and now filled with everything they'd need to survive the winter.

The next day, very early in the morning, Eragon asked Yuna to help him with something. Curious, she met him in his room, where the sapphire stone sat with three tools beside it. The first was a small wooden mallet; the second was a heavy leather hammer; and the last was a small chisel. Yuna did not know what he was up to, but she let Eragon proceed.

Eragon first lifted the mallet and lightly tapped the surface of the stone. Yuna sat up straighter, worried for the stone, but calmed when Eragon looked up at her.

"Look, there isn't even a mark," he said in a low tone as the subtle ringing left from the strike faded away. "The trader Uncle and I visited said that it was hollow. That's why it rings like that."

Eragon picked up the leather hammer and it let out a mournful peal when it struck the smooth surface of the stone. Finally, he repeated the test with the chisel. The sound was clearer than all the others, and still left the stone unmarked.

"That's incredible," Yuna murmured as the last note died away.

Yuna watched the silver stone warily, crouched near it on the ground.

It was very late at night, so late that daybreak was but hours away. Yuna, who tried her hardest to avoid being a morning person, still managed to rise before the sun.

Today was no different.

What was different was the whining squeak emanating from the large silver stone, accompanied by an occasional rocking. Yuna watched with half-morbid fascination, unable to look away as the squeaking grew louder. Then, as suddenly as the noise had begun, it ceased, leaving the young woman to stare at the stone's smooth surface curiously.

She sighed after a moment of nothing and turned back to the bed, determined to get another hour of sleep, when the stone resumed shaking with increased urgency. Yuna turned back to the stone and it rolled unsteadily towards her in fit of shaking.

Suddenly, just as suddenly as the noises began, a crack appeared on the stone. Then another. And another. Transfixed, Yuna took a cautious step towards it, one hand ready to defend herself.

At the very top of the silver stone, where the cracks originated from, a small sharp of the stone wobbled before being lifted up and discarded towards the floor. Another piece of silver chipped away, revealing a small angular head. Yuna noticed distantly that the shading of the creature matched the silver of the stone.

Not the stone... The egg, she corrected herself, watching as the dragon hatchling pulled itself from its old home.

Yuna was powerless to do anything but stare at the small creature as it stared up at her, staring into her green eyes, before licking at the membrane it was still swaddled in. The dragon, when finished, looked back up at the young woman and skittered forward, trilling happily.

Yuna studied it as she subconsciously took a step back. The dragon paused; looking up at her with intelligent and aware eyes as Yuna nearly stumbled to the ground.

The dragon's body was about a foot long. It's head, with strong angles, was powerful looking even minutes after hatching. The dragon's scales were bright silver which, as Yuna noticed on closer inspection, were edged with a deep violet. Wings, which extended from the creature's shoulders, fanned out above him and were several times longer than its body and ribbed with narrow fingers of bone that formed a line of widely spaced talons. Two white and curved fangs extended down from its upper jaw and looked very sharp, just like its pearly claws. A line of spikes ran down the hatchling's spine from the base of its neck down to the tip of its tail. Where its wings joined with its body, there was a break in the spikes that was larger than the others.

Yuna, overcoming her initial shock at the creature, immediately warmed up to it. She knelt towards the small dragon, cooing softly under her breath. The dragon noticed this and, cocking its head curiously, went to explore the girl. The silver hatchling sniffed her gloved right hand curiously before placing its head into Yuna's palm, ordering her to scratch at its neck. Yuna obeyed willingly.

Suddenly, just as soon as her bare skin contact the dragon's scales, a searing rush of ice flooded her veins, trailing up her arm and into her chest before spreading throughout her body. The energy burned as it raced through her, forcing a soundless gasp of pain from her lips as she fell back in agony. She tried to move, to force the pain down, but was unable to. After what felt like hours, warmth seeped back into her limbs, leaving them tingling. Shivering involuntarily, Ella forced herself to a sitting position. Dully, she noticed that her right hand still echoed of that pain, while the rest of her seemed past it. She tore her glove off of her hand to reveal a shining silver patch of skin in the middle of her palm. It itched and burned, reminding her of the time she had been bitten by a spider in Rosethorn's gardens.

Something brushed against her subconscious and Yuna froze. To her, it felt like the warm embrace of red iron on her skin. Comforting, but she didn't know why. It faded away for a moment before returning with a growing curiosity. It grew stronger into a tendril of thought. If not for her training in meditation, the openness of her mind would have been startling. However, she had been trained to rein in both her magic and her mind and kept herself tethered to her body. The connection stayed quietly in a corner of her mind and Yuna looked down at the quiet dragon. It looked up at her with an open eagerness to discover and Yuna smiled down at it.

"Don't you know it's rude to enter someone's mind without saying please?" she tutted jokingly. The dragon only pushed its head back into her now-exposed palm. Yuna waited for the burning energy, but it did not come. Instead, the contact sent a warming jolt through her system, as if she had just come inside from the snow to a steaming cup of hot chocolate.

When the dragon was content, Yuna felt its mind grow hungry. It stared up at her with a tortured look in its eyes and she sighed, a smile on her face.

"Oh, alright," she said warmly, kneeling and holding her arms out. The dragon, seemingly understanding, climbed carefully into her arms, snuggling into her chest when Yuna wrapped her arms around it so as not to drop it. She carefully carried the hatchling to the kitchen, where she proceeded to snatch two strips of dried venison. She sliced the venison into smaller pieces, offering them to the dragon, who ate them as soon as they were near its shiny teeth.

By the time the dragon was full, and the two strips of meat were safely tucked away inside its now bulging belly, Yuna was wondering what to do with it. According to Brom's stories, there were only a few options for her at this point: a) join the mad king, b) kill the dragon, or c) keep the dragon and keep it secret. Seeing the almost painfully obvious answer, Yuna happily picked Option C, even if she might run into trouble with Eragon's family.

Speaking of Eragon... What about the blue st- egg? Will it have hatched as well? Yuna pondered.

There was a creak on the stairs.

Eragon crept into the kitchen, glancing over his shoulder.

"You're up late," Yuna greeted calmly. Eragon jumped into the air, nearly dropping the bundle in his arms. "Hey, don't drop the poor thing. Here, give it to me. I'll feed it."

Yuna gestured towards the silver dragon, who was now curled up on the table, facing the dying coals. Firelight glinted off of its silver scales and Eragon looked startled by its appearance.

"Did that thing happen? To your hand?" Eragon clarified. Yuna's brow furrowed slightly but she nodded, showing him her dully glowing palm. "Well, at least you can hide yours' with your gloves."

Eragon placed the dark blue dragon, who was just a little smaller than the silver one, on the table and held out his right hand for Yuna to see. There, on his palm, was a matching oval of silver that shone in the light.

Yuna nodded at the mark and stood, fetching another two strips of meat. She cut it up just as she did with the silver dragon and began feeding the second hatchling. When the blue dragon had finished, it sighed contently and curled up beside its silver counterpart.

"What are we going to do?"

"Raise them in secret?" Yuna responded easily, shrugging. "The way I figure, we have three choices: side with Galbatorix, kill them, or take care of them and not let the rest of the Empire know about it. To me, option three seems like the best."

"But look at how much food they eat. They've hatched only an hour ago, and they've already eaten two handfuls of meat."

"Horst said that I could help around his forge for some money. And I'm sure that, between the two of us, we'll go hunting often enough to scrounge some food up until they can hunt for themselves."

There was a long pause in which Eragon merely stared at the dragons. The silver dragon was curled almost protectively around the blue one, their tails intertwined. Eragon smiled.

"We're really gonna do this, are we?"

"Yup. Pretty much," Yuna nodded.

"You don't know these woods," Garrow said, shaking his head. Yuna crossed her arms, Eragon's bow slung over her shoulder.

"I've already decided, Garrow. We don't have enough meat to last us the winter and our best shot at getting it is going before the freeze really sets in. I've fed a family of seven for more than two years."

Garrow thought for a moment; he knew Yuna was right, but he was too stubborn to admit it plainly.

"Where is Eragon? Is he going with you?"

"No," Yuna shook his head. "I'll only be gone for a few days, and he has chores around here to take care of. Trust me; I'll be back before you've noticed I've gone."

Garrow finally sighed and a rare emotion entered his eyes: sadness.

"You've been a ray of sunlight 'round here, girl. Don't wander too deep in those parts. There are all kinds of things, just waiting to attack you."

"I know, Garrow," Yuna said, a warm smile on her face. Turning towards the door, she almost missed Roran's last words.

"Eragon should just marry her already," he murmured good-naturedly. Yuna blushed ever so slightly before fighting it down, pretending she hadn't heard a word.

He doesn't like me like that. He doesn't like me like that. He doesn't- she chanted in her mind.

This game would continue for weeks. Eragon built the dragons a shelter in a tree, than a larger shelter on the ground when they outgrew the rowan tree he had selected. The two began to almost entirely feed themselves when they were two weeks old, relieving Yuna of her weekend hunting trips. The dragons grew exponentially in height, with the silver in the lead. By the end of a month, the blue dragon had grown to Eragon's elbow at the shoulder. The silver dragon was level with his chin. Both dragons could fly, although neither were quite big enough to ride, just as neither had breathed fire yet. In the span of a month, they transformed from squeaking, if not adorable, creatures into powerful beasts.

After a short revelation that Eragon shared the same mind-bond with the blue dragon that Yuna had with the silver, it was obvious that it was a bond not to be trifled with.

It was with that that Eragon and Yuna decided to tell Garrow and Roran about the dragons after learning more about them. That knowledge, however, was needed from the only source they had: Brom.

Chapter Text

By the end of their conversation with Brom, Eragon and Yuna had a lot on their minds. Not to mention, names to assign to their dragons, if they approved of any.

With that, they went to fetch Roran from Horst's forge. Roran was already waiting for them, but was surprised to see that he didn't have to go and tear Eragon from Brom's side, where Eragon was generally pleased to stay.

They had been walking for about three miles when Roran suddenly spoke up.

"There was a stranger from Therinsford at Horst's today," he said, sounding as if the words had been dying to come out.

"What's his name?" Eragon asked, keeping up with the conversation. Yuna, on the other hand, was focusing on exchanging names with her dragon.

Ohen? Briam? Hírador?

Hmm... The silver dragon responded quietly.

Vanilor? Eridor? Arget?

I like that one... Arget... the dragon said in his deep voice, repeating the name. Yuna could almost feel him shake out his wings, almost see the sun glinting off of his silver scales. She could have sworn that she heard his roar of satisfaction.

"Yuna? Are you alright?" Roran asked, concerned. Yuna snapped out of it.

"So you're getting married? How exciting!" she said cheerfully.

"That's the plan," Roran smiled. He thought of Yuna as a younger sister, albeit an unfamiliar one. Every now and then, she'd do something strange to keep him on his toes, but everyone knew that Roran would have her back as easily as he would have Eragon's.

"You're lucky I came along then. Who knows what Garrow and Eragon would've done to the house with you out of town," Yuna teased lightly. Eragon remained silent.

When they arrived home, Roran did not tell Garrow of his plans to leave. Yuna and Eragon kept their silence, knowing that Roran would find the time to tell him, and soon.

Eragon and Yuna went to see their dragons together. It was the first time they had managed to coincide a trip to the forest shelter in weeks. Usually one was preoccupied with something while the other was able to go, so it was a rare moment.

Upon arriving in the empty clearing, both Eragon and Yuna called out in their minds for their dragons. The two swooped down in mere minutes, shaking water from the clouds off of their scales.

Eragon shot off lists of names for the blue dragon, failing to notice one key fact. Eventually, Yuna spared him, elbowing him in the side.

"I hate to train you through naming your life companion and all, but I'm pretty sure our dazzling friend is female," Yuna informed the oblivious fifteen year old. The blue dragoness hummed her satisfaction and Eragon's jaw dropped ever so slightly and he began anew, now listing female names.

"Miremel? Ophelia? Lenora? ... Um... Saphira?"

The blue dragon stared at Eragon with those intelligent blue eyes. Yuna smiled, knowing that the final name had been the one.

"Saphira," Yuna repeated to herself. "Oh, and you were never fully introduced! Eragon, meet Arget. Arget, Eragon."

The next few days were difficult, especially for Eragon. Garrow had taken the news impressively well, but that only made letting go harder for Eragon, who was unable to see that this would be good for Roran in the long run. Eragon was steadily growing more upset about Roran's upcoming departure, but was powerless to stop it. Yuna knew this, and purposely allowed him to spend more time with Saphira, even if it meant more work for her.

While Eragon's balm was Saphira, Yuna's was Arget. While she knew from Eragon that the profound connection she had to her dragon was not entirely unique, she felt it was different from Eragon's bond with the blue dragoness. For one, Eragon could not yet ride on Saphira's back. While Saphira had gained another twelve inches before Roran's departure, making her shoulder just as high as Eragon's, Arget had grown another fifteen, making his shoulder even higher than the top of the boy's head. Yuna had stopped using herself as a measure when Arget began to tower over her five foot seven inches.

The first flight had been rough, but exhilarating. Yuna had covered the smooth patch between Arget's wings with blankets to keep her legs protected from his scratchy scales and had gripped to the closet spike for dear life. When they had finally landed after soaring through the sky, Yuna could see the jealous sadness in Eragon's eyes and, by Arget's request, offered him a chance to ride the silver dragon. Eragon declined respectfully, wanting to wait for Saphira to grow so that they could fly together through the skies.

After that first flight, Yuna had begun spending more and more time with Brom. During which time, he discovered a secret.

~Flashback~

Yuna hummed to herself as she went about Horst's forge, making nails. It was dull work, but someone had to do it, and she was being paid for it. Her gloves were off due to her concern that, while her skin was unaffected by flames and hot metal, the cloth of her gloves was.

She almost didn't notice when Brom came in. He had an oil lamp in his hand that had been bent sideways, as if someone had stepped on it. The glass was already safely out of the broken metal frame, and it was clear that he had come to see if it could be fixed.

"Good afternoon," she greet Brom. The older man huffed a hello.

"You workin' here now?"

"I've been working here for about a week," Yuna nodded. "I don't have a lot to do on a farm this time of the year, and I was apprenticed under a blacksmith for a couple of years, so Horst is letting me do odd jobs for him."

"Mind trying your hand at this lamp?" Brom asked suddenly, holding it up. Yuna abandoned her task, already sick of the monotonous creation of nail after nail after nail. She took the frame in hand, studying it.

"How did you do this? Usually when someone steps on a lamp, you just need to warm it back up a little and bend it back into shape. You've almost destroyed it."

She turned it over in her hands and flinched ever so slightly when Brom's fingertips caught her right wrist when her palm faced the sky, leaving the silver mark across her palm clear for all to see. Yuna, knowing that she'd been busted, carried on as if nothing had happened.

"I could reinforce the framework with thinner wires of metal welded onto the frame, but it'd probably be easier for you to buy a new frame or melt this one down," she finished.

Brom muttered a single word under his breath that made Yuna shake.

"Argetlam."

He cleared his throat and spoke again, louder.

"When you've finished here, I think I've got a few more 'stories' to tell you. I'm sure you and your... friend... would be interested in hearing some of 'em."

"Yes, sir," Yuna said, her voice trembling against her will. Brom smiled before walking out.

~End Flashback~

With Brom knowing that she was a Dragon Rider, Yuna's life had become slightly easier. Of course, the older man didn't know that Eragon was a Rider, nor had he met Arget, but he seemed more willing to talk to her about the most obscure subjects.

All too soon, the day of Roran's departure for Therinsford came. Yuna stayed for his send-off, making sure to say goodbye to the young man that had become her brother of sorts.

"Do you have everything?" Yuna asked him, drawing him into a tight hug. Roran chuckled lightly.

"Yes," he reassured her. Garrow nodded to himself, stepping towards his son. He removed a small pouch from his pocket. Coins clinked from within as he handed it to Roran.

"Here. I've been saving this for you. It isn't much, but if you want to buy some bauble or trinket, it will suffice."

"Thank you, but I doubt I'll be spending any money on trifles," Roran said with a smile. Yuna could see a faint weariness in his smile but also anticipation and happiness.

"Do what you will; it is yours... I've nothing else to give you, except a father's blessing. Take it if you wish, but it is worth little."

"I would be honored to receive it," Roran said after a pause, his voice thick with emotion. Garrow smiled.

"Then do, and go in peace," he said in a quiet voice. He stepped towards his son and kissed him on the forehead. He then turned to Eragon, raising his voice. "Do not think that I've forgotten you, Eragon. I have words for both of you. It's time I said them, as you are entering the world. Heed them and they will serve you well."

Garrow continued his list of moral strengths and warnings for the two boys he was addressing. When he was finished, he turned to Yuna.

"And Yuna. You've been with this house for three months, and I will be sad to see if you leave it. However, I will not stop time from flowing. If someday soon you are called elsewhere, this house will bid you a happy goodbye, and know that you are always welcomed in it. You are considered family in this home. And in this family it is customary to be given a gift to represent it at the coming of age. You may have already been grown when you walked through this door, but you have grown still, I think. With that, it is my honor to present you with this."

"Thank you," Yuna choked out. Garrow brought a bow out from behind him, pressing it into Yuna's hands with a fatherly smile. Yuna accepted it easily, studying the carefully carved wood. The sinew was springy and the wood fit her hand perfectly. Her eyes alit with a smile, but Garrow did not acknowledge her as he lifted Roran's pack.

"No you must go. Dawn is approaching and Dempton will be waiting."

"I will return as soon as I can," Roran promised, giving his father a hug. Garrow replied easily, reassuring his son that he need not worry about the house.

"I'll keep them in order," Yuna promised in a whisper, giving Roran one final hug. Roran laughed, not breaking the hug.

"Take care of Eragon . I'm sure he'll be a good husband for you," he teased. Yuna's cheeks reddened and she lightly smacked his shoulder.

"Well... I suppose we'll be off then."

"I suppose," Eragon agreed. Yuna nodded as well and Roran looked surprised.

"You're coming as well?"

"Yes. Horst asked me to stop by," Yuna explained. Roran, with a broad smile on his face, said a final goodbye to his father before leading his companions out the door.

"Horst?" Yuna called, walking into the forge. The man was nowhere in sight, but Yuna was unperturbed. She strode forward, her fingertips trailing the tools laid out beside the anvil.

The door opened and Yuna whirled around to see Horst, looking oddly flustered. The new emotion on the hulking smith's face was alien, as he rarely ever seemed upset or caught by surprise.

"Yuna," he said suddenly, his voice almost dripping relief.

"What's wrong?"

"You know that stone that you and Eragon found in the Spine a few months back?" Before Yuna could respond, Horst overrode her. "If you still have it, get rid of it."

"What happened?"

"Two men arrived here yesterday. Strange fellows dressed in black and carrying swords. It mad my skin crawl just to look at them. Last evening they started asking people if a stone like yours had been found. They're at it again today. No one with any sense said anything, but I could name a few people who will talk."

Yuna blanched; she could also name a few people who would talk.

"Thank you for telling me," she said, her mouth dry. "I have to go. Eragon is saying goodbye to Roran..."

"Then find him and go home. I may be overreacting, but I don't like the look of those two," Horst said, shaking his head. Yuna nodded, accepting his judgment.

"Thank you for warning me," she said earnestly before disappearing out of the doorway, headed directly to Brom's house.

She entered the home without a hint of hesitation, catching the older man by surprise.

"Someone's come for the egg," Yuna said desperately. Brom, with no surprise in his eyes, nodded.

"I know," he said in a quiet voice. "Go back to the farm. I'm taking care of it. Just make sure your friend stays out of sight."

Yuna nodded before dashing out of the home. When she was gone, Brom glanced around warily before taking two swords from a trunk. One was an average silver blade, one that he had taken up after the loss of his sword. The second was blood red. He secured the first to his waist, hiding the second once more.

Chapter Text

"When did this happen?"

Yuna shied away from the voice. She felt as if the words were crawling into her soul, tainting it with its presence. The voice was sickly smooth, making her scalp prickle and alarms sound in her mind.

"About three months ago," someone responded uneasily. Yuna saw a flicker of red cross her vision as she identified him as Sloan, the village butcher.

"Are you certain? We would hate to think you had made a mistake..." A second voice said. It was just as intimidating and smooth as the first, but deeper. Yuna's mind linked it to creeping decay, the touch of death. "It that were so, it would be most... unpleasant."

Hearing the almost hopeful tone to the second unknown's voice, Yuna backed away.

Definitely Empire, she decided as she fled soundlessly. Who else could threaten with so much impunity?

With renewed vigor, she set off in search of Eragon.

"Eragon!" Yuna called, seeing her friend from down the street. She ran towards him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him away. Eragon looked at the girl with confusion in his eyes.

"What is it?" he asked as she began pulling him out of Carvahall, glancing around nervously.

She did not respond until the village was well out of sight. Even then, she did not talk to him.

Arget! Saphira! She called out as loud as she could. It wasn't often that Yuna chose to connect to Saphira's mind but when she did, Saphira knew that it was urgent. After a pause, Arget responded, briefly skimming Yuna's mind.

We are on our way, Arget responded in a smooth voice. Yuna could hear a distant roar as he called for Saphira to join him.

"What happened?" Eragon repeated. Yuna, now realizing that she still holding his wrist in a tight grip, dropped it as if he had burned her. She paced away, trying to think of anything but the voices of the two searching for the eggs.

In minutes, the air was filled with the sound of powerful wings. Arget and Saphira touched down and Arget gently nudged Yuna with his massive head comfortingly.

Still shaking, Yuna explained the situation to both dragons and Eragon.

Saphira recoiled in fear and bloodlust while Arget simply narrowed his eyes angrily.

Fire! Enemies! Death! Murderers! Saphira screamed, her thoughts a muddled confusion of pain, fear, and hate.

What's wrong? Eragon asked, putting all of his strength into it. Yuna winced from the volume of his thoughts, but Saphira did not even hear him. She let out another roar, her tail flying out and striking a snow drift. She gouged the ground with her claws, tearing the frozen earth.

Oaths betrayed, souls killed, eggs shattered! Saphira continued. Blood everywhere! Murderers!

Eragon, careful of her tail and terrified by her fearful rage, danced towards her, getting on her back.

"Enough, Saphira!" Eragon bellowed. Saphira's shouting stopped in a moment. She stilled completely as Eragon ran a hand over her scales. "Everything's going to be alright..."

Saphira crouched, her wings rushing upwards. Yuna, knowing what was about to happened, clambered up Arget's back, glad that she was now used to compensating when riding bareback. The first time she had down it her legs had been horribly scratched but now she knew how to hold on without hurting herself.

Arget, what happened? Yuna asked her companion as Arget took to the skies, following Saphira through the clouds. Arget shook his head, which was easily larger than her torso.

Our kind are more than a species... We share a collective memory. In this case, a collective pain. What you described are monsters, monsters that have been tasked with our extinction.

If that's their job, then Garrow's at risk! Yuna realized in a panic, her face stinging with cold as the wind whipped her hair about her. Arget, we need to go back! He's in danger!

Garrow is not Saphira's concern, just as he is not mine, Arget said in a quiet voice. There was an anger in his tone that Yuna now noticed. It is my job to keep you safe.

And it was Garrow's job to keep Eragon and me safe! We can't just leave him to those... things! He'll be killed, and he won't even know why!

Arget only roared, pushing himself just a little faster to catch up with Saphira. His mind closed to Yuna, he and Saphira flew through the Spine until dark had fallen.

When they finally did land, it was in a small clearing in a valley.

Yuna leapt off of Arget's back as soon as he had folded his wings back, letting her off safely. A few yards away, where Saphira had landed, Eragon jumped off his the blue dragoness's back. He struck the ground and collapsed with a gasp.

Yuna raced forward, knowing what had happened. He was not prepared for that flight, and he had gotten himself hurt during it. If his wounds were anything like hers' had been, his legs were rubbed raw by Saphira brilliant scales.

Eragon, oblivious to Yuna, rolled onto his back, stretching his legs painfully. He looked down at his legs, where the cloth had been darkened by blood.

"Arget-" Yuna began to ask aloud. Arget nodded, seeing her thoughts. He cleared a place on the ground near to the two humans, stripping it of snow with a stroke of his tail. "Thank you."

Arget hummed deep in his throat before pressing his side against Saphira's comfortingly. Arget withdrew his mind from Yuna's and nudged Saphira's mental wards carefully, not wanting to upset her further.

"You're going to freeze to death if you stay there," Yuna said, breaking the silence as Eragon finished assessing his injuries. He glared at her for a moment.

"What do you what me to do?"

Yuna sighed at his angry tone.

"I'll admit that your legs are worse than mine were the first flight, but that doesn't mean you need to get angry at me."

Eragon's glare softened slightly and he murmured an apology. Yuna smiled before kneeling beside him.

"I'm going to help you up and lead you over there," she said, gesturing towards the exposed dirt. Eragon judged the distance, his face slightly pale, but nodded once. Yuna draped his arm over her shoulders and pulled him to his feet, letting him lean heavily against her. He gasped in pain loudly before gritting his teeth, determined to not look weak.

With effort and time, Yuna led him onto the dirt, carefully lowering him so as not to worsen his injuries. Saphira, now much calmer thanks to Arget's efforts, came close to her rider and rolled onto her side, exposing her warm belly. Eragon huddled against her, the scales on her belly smooth and less rigid than those protecting her sides.

Arget lowered himself to the ground on the other side of the dirt and Yuna curled into his side happily. Arget extended a wing to shelter the two humans protected by he and Saphira.

Yuna, unable to sleep, spoke with Arget.

If Garrow is lost...

It will not have been your fault. That blame would not rest on your shoulders, so you may not accept it.

We are going back to the farm, you and I. I don't care if Eragon is too weak. We will leave he and Saphira here if we need to. I won't let any more harm come to his family.

A low growl rumbled in Arget's throat, but he did not disagree.

"Eragon... Eragon... Hey, wake up!" Yuna called as she shook him awake. He jumped awake, gasping in pain. Yuna grimaced. "Sorry about that. Arget and I are going to go back to the farm. Are you ready to fly again, or do you want to catch up with us later?"

"I can fly," Eragon assured her, though he was grimacing. Yuna smiled softly before climbing to Arget's back.

"In that case, we'll see you there. We don't have time to waste. Saphira, please keep him safe until then."

You fly into foolishness, young one, Saphira cautioned. Yuna smiled gently.

I know, Saphira, but this is one flight we must take. I haven't been in this land long, but I know it well enough that there will be stories of us. I may not speak for Arget, but I'd rather been remembered as a brave fool than a cowering rabbit.

Saphira bowed her head gently.

May the winds fly quickly beneath your wings, she said to Arget. He bowed his head back at her.

And prey never escape from your claws.

With that, Arget crouched to the ground, his wings unfolding in a snap. He pushed against the ground, launching himself and Yuna into the sky. He banked sharply to the west, heading for Garrow's farm.

Yuna stood before the wreckage in a haze.

Broken timbers and boards from the house were spread across the ground. Each piece of wound was splintered and pulverized. Sooty shingles from the roof lay strewn across the snowy ground. The metal plates that were the remains of the stove were twisted and torn apart. Shards of crockery and bricks from the chimney were scattered across the ground. Thick oily smoke billowed from the fiercely burning barn. The animals were gone, either dead or escaped.

"Garrow!" Yuna called finally. She rushed forward, slowly followed by Arget.

I see only the tracks of the monsters. Garrow was not taken from here.

Glad that she was not wounded, Yuna clambered through the wreckage that was the house. She shoved destroyed belongings out of her way, all the while calling for Garrow.

There was a faint rattle behind her and she whirled around. There, sticking out from under the ruins of a section of roof, was a pale hand. Yuna tore at the wood and shingles, forcing her way through.

Arget, I need your help, Yuna called as she was stopped by a heavy beam. She could see Garrow's arm and shoulder, but the beam held him trapped.

Arget came immediately and grasped the beam between his jaws. With a massive display of power, he pushed against the ground, his eyes closing with effort as he lifted the beam off of the ruined ground. Yuna dashed under it. There, laying on his stomach, was Garrow. Yuna pulled him out of the rubble, trying to avoid worsening any injuries. As soon as she and Garrow were clear, Arget lowered beam back.

"Uncle!" Eragon called from outside.

"I've got him!" Yuna responded, pulling him out of the wrecked house. Eragon rushed to his side.

Murderers, Saphira hissed, seeing his wounds.

Garrow's skin was gray and lifeless. His lip was split, and there was a long abrasion across his cheekbone. But it didn't end there. Worse than his other, minor, injuries, his torso and limbs were crossed with deep and ragged burns. The wounds were chalky white, oozing a clear pus. The smell of death and decay floated over him. His breath came in short jerks, each sounding painful.

Distantly, Yuna wondered how long he had been lying under the wreckage. Based on the age of the foot prints, it was at least a day.

Don't say that. He can still be saved! We have to get him to Gertrude. I can't carry him to Carvahall, though, Eragon said, his voice panicked. Arget brushed his nose to Eragon's side.

I can carry him if I must.

Are you strong enough? Yuna asked curiously. Arget nodded at her.

I am no longer a hatchling, little one, he reminded her.

With that, Yuna pulled Garrow onto Arget's back, climbing on behind him. Arget glanced back at the two before looking forward.

"Garrow is strong," Yuna said to Eragon. "He might pulled through this."

Even as she said the words, Yuna knew it was a lie. She had spent enough time with Rosethorn at hospitals in Summersea to know when someone was too far gone. If she were honest with herself, Yuna would be surprised that Garrow had lasted as long as he did.

When they were less than a mile from Carvahall, Yuna asked Arget to land, seeing a familiar person below them on the road. That, and carrying two people was starting to take its toll on the silver dragon, as Yuna noted. His breathing was labored and his wing strokes began to lose rhythm.

What are you doing? Eragon asked in her mind as Arget began to descend.

We can trust Brom, Yuna reassured him. Also, we can't land in Carvahall. It will be better if Brom lies for us and says that he met us on the road and helped us in.

Eragon gave in, an impatient note to his thoughts. Yuna did not begrudge him, though. His uncle's life hung in the balance.

"Brom!" Yuna called. Brom was already on his way to where they were set to land. Yuna slipped off of Arget's back and gently pulled Garrow off. Brom cursed under his breath once he saw Garrow's condition.

"He needs to be taken to the village," Brom deduced easily. He glanced up for a moment and Arget met his eyes. "I suppose introductions will have to wait."

Chapter Text

Garrow was resting uneasily at Horst's home. Eragon was sleeping the days away in Gertrude's house. Yuna took up a temporary residence at Horst's house, but spent most of her time in the forest to avoid being questioned.

"I had hoped to meet under better circumstances," Brom said, bowing his head to Arget. Brom, Arget, and Yuna were gathered in the forest just outside Carvahall. Saphira was elsewhere, hunting in the Spine. Yuna was resting in the crook at the base of Arget's neck. Brom was sitting on a log a few yards away.

Well met. Arget nodded respectfully.

"I'll admit, I didn't see this coming," Brom said, his voice almost impressed. "I wasn't told that there was another egg."

"So you knew of Saphira's egg?" Yuna inquired, catching on quickly. A strangely guarded look entered Brom's eyes but he nodded.

"Aye."

"How?" Yuna asked once it was clear that Brom was not interested in elaborating. Brom glared at her witheringly and she sighed. "You don't have to tell me, but a little information would be nice. You know what the king would do if he learned of Arget. You said before that the king had the last three eggs until Saphira's was stolen from him. That he had a blue one, a green one, and a red one. That makes Arget an unknown. Which means there could be a trove of eggs somewhere out there, waiting for the right time to hatch. Galbatorix won't stop until he finds it, even if it doesn't exist. He'll interrogate Arget and I until he get what he wants, and kill us painfully once he finds out we don't have any information."

"You're pretty quick," Brom admitted grudgingly. Yuna grinned.

"Don't worry, Eragon isn't the type to read into things. But I'm too curious to ignore anything. For example, what is so important about that ring?" Yuna said, gesturing to his right hand. Brom, a look of surprise flashing in his eyes, closed his fist. "You keep looking at it when you think I'm not looking at you. That symbol isn't from any language I've seen, and I doubt it's a family crest."

"You're going to get on my nerves, girl," Brom decided crabbily. Yuna grinned again.

"That's the plan. Well, until you give me some more information, that is."

Arget's head shot up suddenly. Saphira glided down into the clearing, a pang of sadness in her eyes. Brom kept himself from showing a reaction as she shook out her wings.

Garrow is dead, she announced sadly.

"And Eragon?" Yuna asked tentatively.

Broken hearted.

Brom introduced himself in a similar way to how he had introduced himself to Arget. He twisted his hand over his sternum in a strange gesture and bowed.

"Greetings, Saphira. I am honored to meet you."

Yuna sat up from her seat, sliding down from Arget's back.

"Where are you going?" Brom asked curiously.

"You called those things the Ra'zac? Yes? Then Eragon is going to go after them. With you, I imagine?" Yuna asked, looking at Saphira. She nodded once, unashamed of her decision. "See? He's gonna get himself killed."

"So you're going to protect him?" Brom guessed, sounding amused.

"Something like that," Yuna shrugged. With that, she turned back towards the village. Brom followed.

"Not without me," he huffed.

"Going somewhere?" Yuna asked aloud. Eragon whirled around to see her. Yuna held in her hands the leathers he had recently stolen from Gedric. Eragon studied her carefully. She was wearing the clothes she wore when she had arrived, which she usually forwent in favor of less suspicious clothing. The black sword, her first weapon, was sheathed at her belt.

"Yes. Now give them back," Eragon said, his eyes narrowed. Yuna stared at him carefully, her hands tightening around the leather.

"Why? So you can run off before Garrow is buried?"

"It's none of your business! Why did you follow me here?"

"It is, and I didn't. Garrow was kind to me as well, in case you had forgotten. And I've been waiting for you since you went to get food. You really should guard your thoughts better."

"So what are you going to do?"

"Me? I was thinking of following you for a while. Make sure you don't get yourself killed," Yuna shrugged nonchalantly. Eragon glanced at Carvahall and saw people running between the houses.

"I think they're looking for us," Eragon said suddenly.

"Probably. To the farm?"

"Fine," Eragon grumbled. He took a single step before stopping. "Wait, I'd like to leave a message for Roran. It doesn't seem right to run off without telling him why."

"It's been taken care of. Gertrude has a letter for him that explains a few things." Yuna didn't tell him that the letter was written by Brom.

Eragon nodded and wrapped the meat he had stolen from Sloan inside the leathers.

The two stayed out of sight of the village before taking to the road, walking at a slow pace so as to not irritate Eragon's still healing wounds.

The wreckage of the house soon came into view. Eragon was dismayed to see how quickly nature was reclaiming the ruins. Snow and dirt was scattered within the remains of the building. The barn was nothing more than a rectangle of soot. Yuna knew that, come spring, the area would be green with new life, even though its shadow was blackened with death.

Eragon wasted no time in searching for anything worth saving; namely, his pack and bow. He found both in what used to be his room, even though it was by now unrecognizable. Yuna joined him in the search of useful items, but there wasn't much to be salvaged.

When they left the ruined house, Brom was waiting outside beside Arget, running a hand over the scales on his neck. Eragon froze, his eyes wary.

"What are you doing here?" he asked in a sharp tone. Brom lowered his hand from Arget's neck and looked at Eragon and then Yuna.

"You didn't tell him?" Brom asked, sounding surprised. Yuna shook her head and turned to Eragon.

"Brom will be traveling with us."

At Eragon's gobsmacked expression, Yuna broke into laughter and Brom cracked a smile.

Chapter Text

It took longer than anticipated to leave the thicket that the three had chosen to camp in. But when they did, it was with two newly made saddles for Saphira and Arget.

The day they were leaving came in dismal shades of gray. Rain threatened to pour at any moment and a wind cut through the trees with a low whistle.

Saphira and Arget wore their saddles, even though they would have no passengers today. Until the three got horses, there would be no other way to carry them. Arget, against Yuna's wishes, insisted on carrying the majority of their supplies. Yuna consented to letting Arget hold her sword. By no account would she let her bow, her only gift from Garrow, out of arm's reach. Instead, she slung it over her shoulder with her quiver.

As they walked, with the two dragons flying high overhead, Brom lectured the two young riders on dragons. The topic, somehow led away by a number of tangents, turned to Zar'roc.

"Who was the rider that owned Zar'roc?"

"A mighty warrior," was Brom's answer. "He was much feared in his time and held great power."

"What was his name?"

"I'll not say," Brom responded. When Eragon protested, Brom held firm. "I don't want to keep you ignorant, far from it, but certain knowledge would only prove dangerous and distracting for you right now. There isn't any reason for me to trouble you with such things until you have the time and the power to deal with them. I only wish to protect you from those who would use you for evil."

"You know what? I think you just enjoy speaking in riddles. I've half a mind to leave you so I don't have to be bothered with them. If you're going to say something, then say it instead of dancing around with vague phrases!"

"Eragon, relax. If he won't tell you, he probably has a good reason for it," Yuna grumbled. Work for hours in the hot sun or in a forge was easy for the sixteen year old girl. Walking miles, however, was not her forte.

Soon before dark, they found a comfortable place to camp amongst the trees. Saphira and Arget joined them shortly before dinner.

We'll be faster when we have horses, Yuna said preemptively, noting how smug Arget looked. He chuckled, the sound a deep rumbling in his chest.

You'd be faster still if you grew wings. Or if you deigned to fly, Arget shot back good-naturedly. Yuna rolled her eyes as she relieved him of his saddle, lying it on the ground near him.

We'll fly tomorrow, Yuna promised. Arget, humming contently, let himself fall to the ground and stretched like a cat.

And Eragon and Brom?

They can walk, Yuna smiled back. Or Eragon can man up and fly with Saphira.

He still fears flight?

I don't think he fears flying... I think he fears reopening the wounds on his legs. His first flight was much more aggressive than ours, if you recall.

I suppose... That means little though. It is a disrespect to Saphira that he does not wish to join her.

I know, Arget. I know.

Yuna curled into Arget's warm belly. Arget's contented humming grew louder and she smiled.

Across the fire, Brom was whittling two long sticks. Without warning, he tossed one to Eragon.

"Defend yourself!" he barked, jumping to his feet with surprising agility.

Eragon and Yuna both looked at the stick in the former's hand, both realizing that it was carved in the vague likeness of a sword.

Yuna, knowing that the older man probably had a few tricks up his sleeves, leaned against Arget to watch the 'fight'. Arget and Saphira looked on with interest as well as Brom charged the young rider, swinging his stick. Eragon moved to block the blow, but was too slow. Brom's stick struck him in the ribs and Eragon fell back, yelping.

Eragon lunged forward, still careless in his movements. Brom easily parried the blow. Eragon whipped the stick towards Brom's head but changed directions at the last moment, aiming for the older man's side. Brom blocked it easily, the solid smack resounding through the camp.

"Improvisation, good!" Brom exclaimed, his eyes gleaming. The firelight made him look intimidating, if not mad, as he leapt forward once more. His arm moved faster than neither Eragon nor Yuna could follow, and Eragon crumpled to the ground. Yuna watched, startled, as blood began trickling down the side of Eragon's head from the blow.

"Did you have to hit him so hard?" Yuna asked concernedly. Brom raised an eyebrow.

"Would a real enemy soften his blows? No. And nor shall I. I'm not going to go easy on him because he's incompetent."

Eragon was roused, and angry, Brom repeated his logic before throwing the stick at Eragon once more, calling for him to defend himself once more. When Eragon tried to quit, throwing his stick down and turning away, he was rewarded with a loud whack on the back.

"Never turn your back on an enemy!" Brom snapped. Eragon took up the stick once more, trying to defend himself from the onslaught. "Pull your arms in. Keep your knees bent."

Eragon quickly discovered that Brom was a 'learn-or-die' type of teacher. When Brom finally proclaimed that they were finished for the night, Eragon flopped weakly onto his blankets, clearly sore. Yuna had a sad smile on her face as she blotted blood from Eragon's face.

"Don't look so excited, girl. Tomorrow it'll be your turn," Brom said from the other side of the fire. Yuna sighed and finished tending to Eragon, walking to her bedroll beside Arget.

The next day, Eragon's arms were covered in bruises, the splashes of blue and green looking painful on his skin.

"How do you feel?" was all Brom asked, serving him a bowl of unrecognizable mush that was breakfast. Eragon grunted and inhaled the breakfast, not wanting to stay in the camp, reliving painful memories.

Yuna secured the saddle onto Arget once more, lashing her belongings on before climbing on nimbly.

"I promised that we would fly today," Yuna explained with a smile. "We'll see you at Therinsford."

"Very well," Brom said with a scowl. "Arget, you'll have to be careful around the town. Saphira, you too will have to be cautious."

"We will be," Yuna promised as both dragons nodded their heads.

Landing outside of Therinsford later that day, Yuna began poking around in search of Brom and Eragon. She found Eragon, alone with three horses, near the edge of the haphazard town. Each horse was colored differently: one was a pure white stallion, the next was a light red-brown bay, with the final as a golden blonde palomino.

She spotted Brom coming towards him from a different direction and hastened her pace so they would meet at the same time. When they were gathered, Brom gestured for them to follow him. Follow him they did, and they didn't stop until Therinsford was out of sight.

"The Ra'zac definitely passed this way. Apparently they stopped here to pick up horses, as we did. I was able to find a man who saw them. He described them with many shudders and said that they galloped out of Therinsford like demons fleeing a holy man."

"They left quite an impression, then."

"Quite," Brom said, agreeing with Yuna.

Eragon nodded thoughtfully, patting the bay's flank.

"When we were in the barn, I touched the bay's mind by accident. I didn't know it was possible to do that."

"It's unusual for one as young as you to have the ability," Brom said, frowning. "Most riders had to train for years before they were strong enough to contact anything other than their dragon... Take everything from your pack, put it in the saddlebags, and tie the pack on top," Brom ordered. Eragon obeyed and Yuna put the few belongings Arget allowed her to carry in the palomino's saddlebags before mounting the horse easily. She had a lot of experience riding in Lairan, one of the few things she enjoyed about her old home.

"Is this going to do the same thing to my legs as riding Saphira?" Eragon asked worriedly as he clambered awkwardly into the saddle. It was clear to Yuna that he had little experience with horses.

"How do they feel now?" Brom asked.

"Not too bad, but I think any hard riding will open them up again," Eragon said thoughtfully.

"We'll take it easy," Brom promised.

Do you want to fly, or take that deer-animal? Arget asked, eyeing the palomino with distaste. Yuna smiled wryly.

I'd much rather fly.

"I did promise that I'd fly today," Yuna said, sliding off of the palomino's back. Brom sighed tiredly.

"Meet us before nightfall. Remember, it's your turn to spar tonight."

With the reminder, Yuna groaned but did not further her complaints. She climbed Arget's back easily and strapped herself into the saddle, just in case. She nodded goodbye to her companions before Arget took off, circling overhead before flying southeast. Saphira soon joined them in the skies.

Yuna was glad that she had strapped herself into the saddle, especially after Saphira and Arget decided to have a contest to determine who the fanciest flyer was. Saphira won eventually but not before Arget pulled off an increasingly tight corkscrew that threatened to make his rider sick.

"Catch!" Brom shouted later that night. Yuna, knowing what to expect, lifted the wooden stick. She kept her mind calm as the older man rushed her, keeping her breathing as steady as she could as she studied how he moved.

Gasping in pain as the wood struck her side, Yuna knew that she was going to be defeated with little effort. Regardless, she kept her blows as energy-efficient as she could manage, trying to tire the old man out while limiting her own bruises.

"You can't expect to outlast your opponent!" Brom shouted, seeing right through her plan. He attacked her with more vigor and Yuna held the stick parallel to the ground to block the slash aimed at her shoulder. Brom shifted directions, but Yuna, transferring the stick solely to her right hand, cartwheeled away from it. She landed in a crouch and instinctively brought the sword up to guard her face.

Thwack!

Wood met wood and Yuna looked up past the hair curtaining her face. Brom stood over her with a surprised but impressed look on his face. Even so, blocking the blow sent tremors up and down her arm.

Yuna transferred the stick to her left hand and danced away from Brom as he lunged forward. Yuna parried the blow, trying to avoid absorbing the shock with her arm. Her right arm still stung from the block, she didn't want that happening to her left as well.

Yuna at first fumbled with her form as she tried left-handed, gathering bruises across her arms and sides. Brom did not soften his blows because she was a girl. If anything, he made them harder. Biting back a gasp of pain, Yuna ducked beneath Brom's sword once more. She raised her wooden sword in a slant, letting Brom's next strike diffuse against her sword. She brought her right hand back to the hilt and grinned.

"C'mon, old man," she taunted. Brom's eyes gleamed with a mad light and he raced forward once more, battling more furiously than before.

When Brom finally ended the training session, Yuna was worse for wear, even if her bruises weren't as spectacular as Eragon's.

"Have you been taught to fight before?" Brom asked before they settled to sleep. Yuna nodded, still sore.

"One of my friends in Emelan lived with Traders for a few years. In my land, Traders were very careful and suspicious and trained each of their own to defend themselves and attack using a staff. My friend, Lark, showed me a few moves in our free time."

"You have good instincts; trust them," Brom nodded before turning over to sleep. Yuna let a proud smile cross her face. "Your turn tomorrow, Eragon."

Eragon groaned.

Chapter Text

Yuna felt sore the next morning, but not unbearably so. She climbed nimbly into the saddle of the palomino, ignoring her dully aching sides and the tinges of blue, purple, and green that danced across her arms.

"You should name her," Brom said, nodding to the horse. Yuna looked at the other horses- Snowfire and Cadoc- and nodded, thinking.

"Kiirai," Yuna murmured. The palomino's ears twitched and Yuna gently pressed her mind to the mare's, repeating her name. The palomino whinnied happily, tossing her mane and flicking her tail. Yuna smiled before her thoughts darkened, turning to her dream of last night. There were monsters in the dark, monsters that relentlessly chased Arget and, through him, her.

The Ra'zac, for that's what the monsters were, knew they were being followed. They were leading their prey out of the minimal protection of the Spine into the open plains. Or further still, to their lair.

Yuna shook her head clear of thoughts. Ahead of her, Brom and Eragon had already started riding forward. Yuna flicked the reins and Kiirai began at a steady trot, catching up with Snowfire and Cadoc easily.

At the beginning of the plains, Brom dismounted, followed by Eragon and Yuna, and checked the trail for evidence of the Ra'zac. The trail split into three; one headed into the plains, one turned north towards Ceunon, and the last went south, following the Spine.

"It's seems they've gone to Yazuac," Brom said with a perplexed air.

"Where's that?" Eragon asked. Yuna nodded her head, looking to the old man.

"Due east and four days away, if all goes well. It's a small village situated by the Ninor River." Brom gestured towards the Anora River to our left, which branched away to the north. "This is our only supply of water. There isn't another pool or stream between here and Yazuac."

And so, the three filled their waterskins to the brim. They drank as much as they could from the river and watered the horses. Arget and Saphira, joining them, each drank their fill of the cool water.

Content that they couldn't gather any more water, they turned eastward and started across the plains.

Sick of the wind that somehow buffeted them from each side, Yuna called for Arget.

Is the wind any calmer higher up?

There was a moment of silence before Arget responded.

It is just as strong, but the wind is not fighting us. Why? Is your deer-animal being weakened by the winds? There was an amused snort accompanying Arget's words and Yuna smiled wryly.

No, but it's really bugging me... Would you mind coming-

I come.

Arget flew downwards in a gentle spiral, letting the wind carry him. The lower he went, the stronger the winds became from the east, disturbing his balance. He compensated easily and landed in front of the three horses with a toothy grin. His silver scales shone almost painfully in the bright sun, making the humans squint as their sight readjusted.

"What is it?" Brom asked, glancing at Yuna. Yuna only grinned as she slipped off of Kiirai's back. She led the palomino to Eragon, pressed the reins into the boy's hand.

"We're going for a flight. See you at dusk," Yuna said as she jumped into Arget's saddle. She didn't bother strapping herself in this time, confident that she could hold on with her own strength. If not, there was no doubt in her mind that Arget would catch her.

Brom didn't scowl, apparently having expected this. Yuna flashed him a smile before Arget crouched and pushed away from the earth, his silver wings whipping the air powerfully. Once they were airborne, Yuna let her mind touch Eragon's.

You really should fly with Saphira. It's so exhilarating! And, I think you're hurting her feelings, Yuna said matter-of-factly. Eragon, in the recesses of his mind, recoiled at the thought of flight and Yuna rolled her eyes. What kind of Dragon Rider are you?

Yuna felt anger stir in Eragon's mind and she released her hold on his consciousness, concentrating once more on the rhythm of Arget's wings. Arget's mind was exuding contentedness, just as Yuna's was.

I feel so...

At home? Arget guessed, finishing her thought. Yuna smiled.

Complete. Have you ever felt that you were made to do something? This is what I was made to do.

I am pleased, little one.

Thank you for hatching for me, Arget. Yuna leaned against Arget's neck, holding on tighter when Arget entered a corkscrew. While she would have been afraid if he had attempted that in their earlier flights, now she only laughed as he soared playfully through the air.

As promised, Arget and Yuna met up with the others at dusk. Saphira seemed sullen, and it was obvious to Yuna what was wrong.

I'm sure he'll get over it, Yuna said in a gentle voice as she and Saphira watched Eragon struggle with the tinderbox, trying to light the fire. He just needs to-

Remind himself of his place as a Dragon Rider? Saphira said, a tint of anger in her thoughts. Yuna sighed. She stood from her place beside Arget and walked to Saphira.

May I? she asked carefully, bowing her head. Saphira nodded, a cautious look in her eyes as Yuna climbed onto her back. Saphira's caution melted when Yuna ran a hand over her neck soothingly.

Eragon tossed the tinderbox the Brom, unaware of his dragon's retreating distress. Brom however, watched all with calculating eyes. Nevertheless, he accepted the flint and knelt before the tinder.

Yuna continued stroking Saphira's smooth blue scales as Brom sent cascades of sparks onto the dead brush. There was smoke, but nothing else. He scowled again, trying once more. Again, there were no flames.

"Brisingr!" he swore angrily, striking the flint once more. Flames suddenly appeared on the brush and Brom leaned back with a satisfied expression. "There we go. It must have been smoldering inside."

Yuna slipped off of Saphira's back and began making dinner. From the first day of traveling, the three had decided that Yuna was the most able cook. While she worked around the fire, Eragon and Brom sparred with the mock swords. The session was short, thanks to the fatigue both had been suffering from, but it was long enough for Eragon to earn a number of bruises.

Once their dinner was over, Arget and Saphira gathered close together around the three humans, their bodies providing shelter from the wind.

In the morning, the wind was back with a vengeance and a biting freeze. Eragon's and Brom's lips were cracked and chapped thanks to yesterday's wind, and Yuna's were no better. Each time they spoke or smiled, blood would bead across the abused skin and licking the blood away only made it worse.

Yuna once again took to the skies with Arget, comforting Saphira all the while as Eragon led his 'deer-animal' across the plains. The day went much the same, except it was Yuna's turn to collect bruises at Brom's mock sword.

On the third day, the wind had finally stopped. The bad news, however, came with the dark thunderheads raging in the distance. It was with caution that Yuna strapped herself into Arget's saddle.

"Normally I wouldn't go into a storm like that, but we're in for a battering no matter what we do, so we might as well get some distance covered," Brom reasoned, grimacing all the while.

"We should fly low today," Yuna said cautiously.

I agree, Arget nodded. Strong as we are, we have not entered such strong gales since we hatched.

If you think so, Saphira said, her eyes slightly narrowed as a tendril of smoke rose from her nostrils. With a glance at Eragon, she crouched and took off into the air, circling around them in a wide arc.

Yuna looked at Eragon with a cold look in her eyes.

"The skies are lonely," was all she said before Arget took off, following Saphira into the clear skies, not looking forward to entering the storm. It was that caution that had him flying only fifty feet above the ground. Saphira, believing more strongly in her abilities, flew at least twenty feet higher, even as they entered the shadow of the clouds.

Minutes after entering the darkness of the storm, a ripple raced over the grass. Realizing what it was in an instant, Yuna looked up to see Saphira, her eyes wide with panic.

Saphira, land! she urged mentally, even as Arget began a speedy descent. She distantly heard Eragon echoing her cry. Arget touched the ground roughly, forcing his wings closed to his body. Saphira dove towards the ground, striking the tall grasses, flattening them.

Even with her quick descent, Saphira could not manage to fold her wings to her sides before the wind grabbed hold of her. Yuna, still strapped into Arget's saddle, fumbled with the straps in her rush to help her friend as the blue dragoness' wings whipped around uncontrollably at the mercy of the wind. Eragon urged Cadoc towards the struggling dragoness. Arget moved towards Saphira as well, careful to keep his wings tucked in as he clawed at the ground, anchoring himself as he took each step.

Yuna, unable to get off the last strap, pulled herself as close to Arget's neck as she could, trying to avoid being grabbed by the wind. Arget crept ever closer to Saphira as Eragon leapt from Cadoc's back, running unevenly to his dragon's side, mindful of her flailing wings.

Arget stepped in front of Saphira, trying to block some of the wind's power before pulling himself to her side, leaning his shoulders away to shield Yuna from Saphira's wings. Arget lifted a foreleg carefully, bringing his paw to Saphira's wing joint and pushing down, forcing the wing to buckle. Arget ducked as Saphira forced her wing to obey her. Eragon, on her other side, pushed against her left wing, helping Saphira to bring the wayward limb close to her body, keeping the wind from tossing her around.

Eragon leaned against Saphira's side, panting. Arget nearly collapsed onto the ground from the effort. Yuna let herself rest against Arget's neck, mindful of his spikes, as she breathed heavily, glad that nothing terrible had happened.

I'm not- going to say- I told you so... Yuna said, mentally exhausted. Saphira, if she had not been so tired, might've gotten angry. Instead, she was grateful for the help.

Thank you, she said, brushing her side against Arget's. Nothing's broken... I- I couldn't do anything. The wind wouldn't let me go. I was helpless.

Saphira shuddered and fell silent. With much care, she and Arget crept towards Brom, who had all three horses. Eragon was clinging to Saphira's neck, just as Yuna was to Arget's.

"Is she hurt?" Brom shouted over the wind. Eragon shook his head and slid off of Saphira's back, pulling himself onto Cadoc's back.

I'm going to stay with Kiirai for a while. I don't trust her in these winds alone, Yuna said, untying the final strap that had kept her pinned to Arget. Arget nodded in understanding.

I will walk beside you, he said. A ripple spread throughout his body as he pulled his limbs in tight and began walking, joined by Saphira. She knew better than to fight against the storm, especially when flickering bolts of blue lightening began to dance across the darkened skies. An ice-cold rain began to pour from above, drenching the travelers within moments. The rain stung were it struck, sapping their strength. Grass fires, lit here and there by bolts of lightening, were quickly extinguished by the freezing rain.

The group forced themselves forward and, as the day went on, the storm slowly faded away. The dark thunderclouds shifted behind them in time, leaving behind a blue sky dotted with harmless white cumulus clouds. The wind began to die down, letting the travelers enjoy the brilliant setting sun.

The storm left the earth smelling fresh and untainted, clearing minds and raising spirits. Saphira stretched her aching limbs and roared happily, soon joined by Arget. The horses skittered away from the dragons, but the humans smiled at their energy.

Camp was made in a shallow scoop of earth before the light faded.

Just before falling asleep, Yuna numbly smiled, realizing that Eragon had missed a day of sparring thanks to their exhaustion.

Oh, well... she murmured to Arget, curling into his side. Arget loosed a contented rumble before falling fast asleep, exhausted.

Chapter Text

As Brom predicted, Yazuac came into sight the next day. Unfortunately, their waterskins were already empty by that time.

Arget and Saphira, against the latter's wishes, were hidden near the village at a bend in the Ninor River a mile or so from the village.

The village itself came into view. There was smoke rising from a dozen chimneys, but no people were visible in the streets. When they entered the village, all was silent.

"There aren't any dogs barking," Yuna noted, a confused tone to her voice. Brom stared ahead.

"No," he said in an even tone.

"Doesn't mean anything though," Eragon said, shifting his weight in the saddle uneasily.

"No," Brom repeated. Yuna didn't like it though. In Lairan, nearly everyone had a dog. They guarded the young children when the parents were working and kept them warm in the dead of winter.

"Someone should have seen us by now," Yuna murmured.

"Yes," Brom said noncommittally.

"Then why hasn't anyone come out?" Yuna asked. Brom squinted into the sun.

"Could be afraid," was his guess. There was a moment of silence.

"I don't like this... We could be walking into a trap," Yuna said, shaking her head. Brom's face betrayed no emotion.

"Could be. We need provisions and water."

"There's the Ninor," Eragon reminded him.

"Still need provisions."

Yuna looked around, still tense. It was too quiet. Brom directed them to the side of the town, wary of a trap, and she lifted her bow from Kiirai's saddlebags. She notched an arrow in unison with Eragon.

The three entered the town cautiously.

The streets were empty, devoid of all life but a small red fox that darted into the shadows as they approached. The houses lining the road were dark and foreboding; windows were shatter, doors hung off of broken hinges. The horses twitched nervously, flicking their tails about. Soon enough, they entered the center of the town.

"Gods above," Eragon whispered, blanching. The cause of his distress was evident for all to see.

A mountain of bodies rose above them. Their clothes, which had at one point been neutral browns, were now bathed in drying blood, as was the ground. Slaughtered men were tossed over women they had fallen to protect. Dead mothers still held their children. Lovers still held each other, all the while being held in death's hand. Black arrows stuck out from the bodies all across the mound. None were spared from the massacre. The cruelest act was seen at the very top of the pile where, impaled by a barbed spear, was the white body of a baby.

Tears blurred Eragon's vision and Yuna forced herself to take a deep breath, closing her eyes. A crow flew from one of the nearby roofs, landing atop the barbed spear. It's head tilted to the side as it appraised the infant's corpse.

Yuna released the sinew of her bow, and the crow fell in a ruffle of feathers. From its chest rose Yuna's arrow, fletched with blue jay feathers.

Eragon's stomach turned and he leaned over Cadoc's side, releasing the contents of his stomach. Brom patted him on the back comfortingly.

"Do you want to wait outside of Yazuac?" Brom asked gently. Eragon shook his head, wiping at his mouth. His face was ashen, his eyes haunted.

"No... I'll stay," he said shakily. He carefully avoided looking at the massacred villagers. "Who could have done..." His voice caught.

"In Lairan, we called them trazjerl," Yuna said, swallowing. "Those who live off of pain and suffering, the evil. There were bands of men and monsters that, once every two years, would join together and pick a small village. They would enter it and kill with impunity. They always left just one survivor from the initial attack. That survivor was given the chance to join their ranks, or be killed. If the survivor was young enough, they would accept out of fear and eventually learn to love the thrill of senseless murder. If they rejected the offer, they were beheaded and their head was brandished on a spear, not unlike that-" Yuna couldn't force herself to finish the sentence.

"You've seen this before?" Brom asked, a sad gentleness in his voice. Yuna nodded once, her eyes dull with an old pain.

"I was nine years old. The village the trazjerl had chosen was only seven miles from my family's house. My father- We were running low on flour, and Mother asked him to go into town. I never saw him alive again."

Eragon's eyes were wide; he had known that she lost her father when she was young, but he never heard details on his death. Yuna sniffed, clearing her throat.

"That year, the trazjerl picked a young boy. His name was Aiedras. He was always so stubborn," Yuna said with a sad smile. "He- He was my best friend... When my mother and I went into town looking for my father, he-... He had declined their offer."

Yuna's vision blurred with tears. It wasn't a story she told often, and for good reason. Eragon, strengthening himself, gently rubbed comforting circles into her back. She rubbed at her eyes, coughing.

"All we can do is pity and honor the victims," Brom said once Yuna's murmuring crying subsided. He dismounted and carefully searched the ground. "The Ra'zac passed through here, but this was not their doing. This is urgal doing; the spear is of their make. A company of them came through here, perhaps as many as a hundred... It's odd; I know only of a few instances when they have gathered in such..."

Brom knelt, examining a footprint intently. With a curse, he ran back to Snowfire, mounting the horse in a flurry of motion.

"Ride!" he hissed, spurring Snowfire forward. "There are still urgals here!"

Yuna's eyes widened as she too pushed Kiirai forward, away from the town center.

Arget! she called mentally. Urgals!

Saphira and I are on our way. And she is angry that Eragon did not see fit to tell her, Arget said. Yuna could hear a distant roar as he took to the skies.

Yuna pushed Kiirai faster and faster- Until a movement in her peripheral vision caught her eye. She turned her head, only to see Eragon get punched out of Cadoc's saddle. Standing with a proud leer on his twisted face, an urgal opened mouth in a yellowed grin. He was tall and muscular, with grey skin and watery yellow eyes. Rippling muscles bulged beneath the skin on his arms and chest, which was covered by a too-small breastplate. There was an iron cap situated over his curled horns, and a round shield lashed to his arm. He held a short but powerful-looking sword in his other hand.

Brom reined in Snowfire as a second urgal appeared, bearing a battle axe instead of a sword.

"Run, you fools!" Brom cried to Yuna and Eragon, cleaving at his enemy with his sword. Yuna narrowed her eyes and pulled her bow. She pulled back the string, aiming her arrow directly at the urgal bearing the sword. She released it with a breath and it flew forward, clipping the side of the urgal's face. A long scratch appeared across its cheekbone and began weeping black blood. The urgal snarled and turned to face Yuna, abandoning Eragon for its new victim. Yuna glared at the beast before guiding Kiirai back.

"Come on, you big ugly-" Yuna was cut off as the urgal swiped his sword towards her. Yuna ducked under the blade, sliding off of Kiirai's back, taking her quiver with her. With a quick mental order, she ordered the horse to the edges of the town and the palomino was only too happy to obey, skittering off. The urgal made to follow but Yuna drew another arrow, notching it in a heartbeat and sending it flying into the urgal's leg. It struck the urgal's hamstring and his knee buckled. He let out a cry of pain and rage and gripped the arrow with his shield hand. With narrowed eyes, he pulled the arrow out of his leg, snapping it in half easily. He let it drop to the ground, his lip curling as he turned back to face Yuna.

"Feel free to jump in, Eragon!" Yuna called out, her voice touched by nervousness. Her right palm and the shining mark upon it began to itch and tingle and Yuna pushed it out of her mind, drawing another arrow from her quiver. She moved to fire the arrow, but the urgal moved to hit her with its shield. It was all Yuna could do to evade the would-be crushing blow. Once on the ground, Yuna's hand shot to her boot, retrieving a six-inch long dagger. She gripped the weapon and, without hesitation, ripped it through the urgal's ankle, severing its Achilles tendon.

She rolled back as the urgal released another roar. Her palm began to burn with an energy that she recognized as magic. She landed in a crouch and glared up at the creature. It moved towards her, an angry glint in it eyes, but was stopped as an arrow whistled past its head. It turned, revealing Eragon, wielding his bow, behind him.

"Way to miss," Yuna said, shifting her hold on her dagger. Eragon's lips twitched into a slight smile, but Yuna could see the tense fear in his eyes, just as the urgal could. Deciding that Eragon was the weaker target, the urgal roared and rushed the boy. Yuna narrowed her eyes and dashed forward, hoping to beat the urgal in speed.

Hoping that the urgal's skin looked more disgusting than it felt, Yuna leapt to its back, twirling her dagger in her hand. Her palm itched and burned with a passion. She knew from experience that the pressure had to be released or she would risk hurting herself. In response, a word jumped to her lips.

"Brisingr!" she growled as she brought her hand down, her dagger aimed at the urgal's throat. The dagger alit with a vivid green flame and sliced cleanly through muscle. When it finished its deadly arc, the urgal was all but decapitated.

Eragon watched, his eyes wide, as the urgal fell, gurgling and drowning in its own blood before it succumbed to death. Yuna fell with it, panting as she stood from its bloody form. Her breath was labored and her eyes were filled with a dangerous glint. Her cheek was specked with black urgal blood, just as her clothing was, with her right forearm was nearly bathed in the dark liquid. She shouted wordlessly and threw her dagger, which Eragon dimly noted was still alit with green flames, down the road. The urgal bearing an axe, the one who had targeted Brom, slumped to the ground. The dagger protruded from the urgal's chest. Eragon was startled to see that, not only had it pierced the creature's breastplate, it was also dug in almost to the handle. He turned back to see Yuna, just in time to see her knees buckle.

He ran to her side, catching her just before she fell. A small smile graced her face.

"...For... Aiedras..." she murmured lowly. Her smile broadened slightly and her eyes rolled back. She fell limp in his arms and Eragon's eyes widened with panic. He searched for injuries, but could find nothing other than the bruises that were evidence of sparring with Brom.

Eragon slung his bow and hers over his shoulder before gathering her in his arms, standing. He walked carefully away, searching for Brom.

When he located Brom, the old man was with all three of the horses and both dragons. Arget's lip curled violently as he saw his rider, laying limp in Eragon's arms. Brom, looking paler than usual, rushed to Eragon's side.

"What happened?" was Brom's first question. Eragon looked at Brom's worried face before down at Yuna's peaceful smile.

"I- I don't know," Eragon stammered truthfully. Arget gently brushed Yuna's forehead with the tip of his nose. Yuna stirred slightly and Arget touched her forehead once more. She shifted.

"Five more minutes, Lark," she murmured sleepily. Eragon breathed a sigh of relief. Arget was not as pleased.

Who did this? I will rip them limb from limb! he thundered mentally. Now that he was sure his rider would recover, he could set to revenge. Eragon shook his head.

"They're dead. She did it. Somehow," Eragon said carefully. Arget looked up suddenly, his eyes betraying his surprise.

"By herself?" Brom asked cautiously. Eragon nodded.

"I distracted one of them for a while, but I think she was fine without me. She- I've never seen anyone fight like that. She nearly tore one's head off."

Arget let out a grumbling chuckle as he grinned toothily.

I am sad I missed it.

Eragon forced down a shudder, remembering. Brom looked up at the sky thoughtfully.

"That would explain it..." At Eragon's questioning look, Brom glanced at the boy. "Before the second urgal could strike me, he left. The urgal Yuna was battling roared, did it not? Perhaps it was asking for assistance."

"Whatever happened, shouldn't we make sure Yuna's okay first?" Eragon asked tensely. Brom studied the girl for a moment.

"How exactly did she kill the urgals?" he asked suddenly. Eragon's eyebrows met in confusion.

"Well- I'm not exactly sure. She jumped onto one of their backs and pulled out this dagger. She said something, and it turned this fiery green. She killed the urgal and threw the dagger at the second one before I even saw it."

Brom smiled, but his eyes were guarded carefully.

"That's rare. It usually takes months or years for a rider to reach this stage," Brom murmured. Eragon, getting frustrated, demanded to get some details. Brom only shook his head.

"Not here. Wait until we are further from Yazuac and Yuna is awake," Brom responded smoothly. Scowling at the answer, Eragon carried Yuna to Arget and carefully strapped her into the saddle, as instructed by Brom. That way, as he explained, she wouldn't fall off if she awoke while they were traveling.

Once she was secured into the saddle, Brom and Eragon spurred the horses further along the Ninor River as the dragons flew overhead.

Chapter Text

Yuna awoke to the feeling of wind on her face. She opened her eyes to see silver and she smiled briefly.

Hello, she thought in a soft voice. Arget's thoughts immediately filled with concern and she smiled broader. I'm alright, I'm alright. I guess that took up more energy than I thought it would...

Yes, it did. Arget responded shortly. Yuna felt as he delved gently into her mind, and gave him access to her memories. Arget's emotion turned from concern to amusement to shock as he replayed Yuna's view of her slaying the urgals. There was an angry red tint around the edges of the memories- the vague imprint of emotions.

Impressed? 'Cause I feel like a blind kitten, Yuna pouted. While her body felt rested, her mind was groaning with exhaustion. With some effort, she cast her thoughts around her, looking for Brom and Eragon.

... Yuna? Eragon asked cautiously, feeling her consciousness brush his thoughts.

It's me, she confirmed. I can't reach Brom. His thoughts are too guarded... Tell him I'm awake. I feel fine, but drained.

... He wants you to land, Eragon reported after a pause. Yuna yawned, repeating the request for Arget. He grumbled an acknowledgment and began to sink towards the Ninor. Yuna noted that they were headed towards a secluded clearing.

Arget touched down gently, trying to avoid jostling Yuna, and she chuckled.

"I'm not a hatchling," she reminded him tiredly. Arget released an amused rumbling sound from deep in his chest. Yuna, forcing her limbs to obey, untied the straps holding her legs to the saddle.

"How are you?" Eragon asked ask Yuna leaned against Arget's neck.

"Just peachy, thanks," she grumbled sarcastically. Eragon grinned. "Nothing a little meditation won't solve..."

"You meditate? Why?" Eragon asked curiously.

"It helps me center my magic," she said, standing unsteadily. Brom chuckled from the fire as Eragon's body language shifted from calm and relaxed to wary and almost fearful.

"Relax, boy. She knows how to control it. Don't you?" he asked.

"Not as well as I'd like, evidently," Yuna sighed.

"How long have you had access to it?" Brom asked carefully. Eragon regarded her with a wary light in her eyes and she sighed.

"First off, there's more than one type of magic. At least, there was in Emelan, where I studied to be a mage. I wasn't a typical mageborn child. My magic was more... subtle. I didn't make people see images in fires or send objects flying around the room. My magic lies in smithwork. I can't explain it very accurately, but metal speaks to me. But all I can do is shape it. My strength in that regard is in the type of metal and the heat of my fire. I can't turn lead to gold or anything."

"How long?" Brom repeated.

"I've known about it since I was fifteen, when I was tested for magic. I've been able to manipulate it since I started working under my master in Winding Circle. He was the one who recommended meditation to me. The way he said it, its another way of becoming one with your fire. With each breath, the light dims or strengthens."

"And that would be why that little fireworks show didn't kill you," Brom added at the end. Yuna nodded, staring at the ground. "Let me guess, you didn't expect it to take so much out of you?"

"No, I didn't. Like I said, my magic is usually subtle. Something that big drew a lot more power than I thought it would."

"Can someone explain what's going on?" Eragon finally asked, breaking.

Brom consented, going into his explanation of magic, and its dangers. Yuna already knew of its dangers, but was intrigued by the idea of using words of power, words that were exact for each magic-using species, to manipulate magic. It seemed more efficient than anything she had used or heard of.

When Brom thought the two were sufficiently content with their new knowledge, he bade them goodnight and turned over to sleep, refusing any more questions.

Yuna sighed, giving up temporarily. After all, she wasn't going to remind Brom that it was her turn to spar. She snuggled against Arget's side, warmed by his internal fire.

Eragon relented similarly. He abandoned the fire in favor of Saphira's warm side, leaving Brom alone in the firelight.

Chapter Text

The next morning, after a quick breakfast, the group set off once more. Yuna forewent flight in the interest of more information.

Yuna let Eragon and Brom discuss the appearance of the urgals for a while, but her patience eventually wore thin.

"What are you going to do now? About the magic? You've clearly known that I've been able to manipulate my own brand of magic for some time now. And it's just as clear that you are learned in it."

Brom scratched his chin, glancing between Yuna and Eragon.

"Well, the fact that you can use it presents a fairly thorny situation. Few know it, but every rider could use magic, thought with differing strengths."

"So I-" Eragon began.

"Eventually, yes," Brom answered impatiently. "Anyway, the riders kept this ability a secret, even at the height of their power, because it gave them an advantage over their enemies. Had everyone known about it, dealing with common people would have been difficult. Many think the king's magical powers come from the fact that he is a wizard or a sorcerer. That's not true; it is because he is a rider."

"So would I still be considered a mage? Or a magician? I could use magic before I became a rider. And would that effect the strength of my magic?" Yuna asked curiously. Brom sighed tiredly.

"You're just as bad as Eragon with the questions... To be honest, I'm not sure how you would be classified. Riders were often chosen when they were young, so if any would have grown up to be magicians on there own, it went unnoticed. It could make your magic stronger, but I doubt that it will change. If anything, your familiarity with magic might make getting stronger easier, but again, I doubt it."

Yuna nodded, absorbing the information as Brom looked to Eragon.

"Now, that brings me back to my original point- the problem you've presented. Young riders like yourself were put through a strict regiment designed to strengthen their bodies and increase their mental control. This regiment continued for many months, occasionally years, until the riders were deemed responsible enough to handle magic. Up until then, not one student was told of his potential powers. If one of them discovered magic by accident, he or she was immediately taken away for private tutoring. It was rare for anyone to discover magic on their one. Even now, you only really learnt of it because of Yuna's preexisting ability and my own carelessness."

"So what will I do?" Eragon asked.

"There isn't time for formal instruction for either of you, but we can do much as we travel. I know many techniques you can practice that will give you strength and control, but you cannot gain the discipline the riders had overnight. You will have to amass it on the run. It will be hard in the beginning, but the rewards will be great."

"Does this language have a name?" Eragon asked after a pause in the conversation. Brom laughed.

"Yes, but no one knows it. It would be a word of incredible power, something by which you could control the entire language and those who use it. People have long searched for it, but no one has ever found it."

"I still don't understand how this magic works," Eragon said. "Exactly how do I use it?"

"I haven't made that clear?" Brom asked, looking rather astonished. Eragon shook his head, as did Yuna.

Brom took a deep breath before beginning.

"To work with magic, you must have a certain innate power, which is very rare among people nowadays. You also have to be able to summon this power at will. Once it is called upon, you have to use it or let it fade away. Understood? Now, if you wish to employ the power, you must utter the word or phrase of the ancient language that describes your intent. For example, if Yuna hadn't said brisingr yesterday, nothing would have happened."

"So we're limited by our knowledge of the language?" Yuna surmised.

"Exactly," crowed Brom. "Also, while speaking it, it is impossible to practice deceit."

"That can't be," Eragon disagreed, shaking his head. "People always lie. The sounds of the ancient words can't stop them from doing that."

Brom cocked an eyebrow and lifted his hand.

"Fethrblaka, eka weohnata néiat haina ono. Blaka eom iet lam." A bird suddenly flitted from a branch and landed in his hand. It trilled lightly and looked at the three with beady eyes. After a moment, Brom said, "Eitha," and it fluttered away.

"How did you do that?" Eragon asked in wonder.

"I promised not to harm him. He may not have known exactly what I meant, but in the language of power, the meaning of my words was evident. The bird trusted me because he knows what all animals do, that those who speak in that tongue are bound by their word."

"And the elves speak this language all the time?" Eragon inquired.

"Yes."

"So they never lie?" Yuna asked curiously. Brom's mouth twisted in a slight smile.

"Not quite," he admitted. "They maintain that they don't, and in a way it is true, but they have perfected the art of saying one thing and meaning another. You never know exactly what their intent is, or if you have fathomed it correctly. Many times they only reveal part of the truth and withhold the rest. It takes a refined and subtle mind to deal with their culture."

"So Eragon will have a hard time," Yuna teased. Eragon huffed, not quite angry, and crossed his arms. Brom chuckled amusedly.

"You'll cross that bridge when you reach it."

"So, in this language... What about names of people? If a name can control an object, couldn't it control a person if they had the right name?"

"Yes, they do," Brom said, his eyes lit with approval. "Those who speak the language have two names. The first is for everyday use and has little authority. But the second is their true name and is shared with only a few trusted people if at all. There was a time when no one concealed their true name, but this age isn't as kind. Whoever knows your true name gains enormous power over you. It's like putting your life into another person's hands. Everyone has a hidden name, but few know what it is."

"How do you find your true name?" Eragon asked.

"Elves instinctively know theirs. No one else has that gift. The human riders usually went on quests to discover it, or found an elf who would tell them, which was rare. Elves don't generally distribute that knowledge freely," Brom replied.

"I'd like to know mine," Eragon said wistfully, looking up at the sky. Yuna looked up as well and saw Saphira and Arget attempting complex loops and dives through the air.

"Be careful," Brom warned, his eyes dark with seriousness. "It can be a terrible knowledge. To know who you are without any delusions or sympathy is a moment of revelation that no one experiences unscathed. Some have been driven to madness by that stark reality. Most try to forget it. But as much as the name will give others power, so you may gain power of yourself, if the truth doesn't break you first."

"I still wish to know," said Eragon determinedly. Yuna shook her head.

"I wouldn't want to. If I learned my name, and someone broke into my mind, they could find it. Even if I regained control, they'd still have my name," she reasoned.

"This is a lot more complex that I thought," Eragon said, frowning.

"Exactly!" Brom exclaimed. "And if you don't understand what you're doing, you'll try something too big and die."

Brom twisted down in his saddle and scooped a handful of pebbles from the ground. With effort, he righted himself and discarded all but two of the rocks. He held them out to the two young riders.

"Take them. One each," he ordered. Yuna and Eragon obeyed, each taking of the dull black pebbles. "This is your training."

"What do we do?" Yuna asked as Eragon voiced his lack of understanding. Brom looked at the boy with a hint of impatience.

"Of course you don't," he said tersely. "That's why I'm teaching you and not the other way around. Now stop talking or we'll never get anywhere. What I want you to do is lift the rock out of your palm and hold it in the air for as long as you can. The words you're going to use are stenr reisa. Say them."

They did and Brom nodded once.

"Good. Go ahead and try."

Yuna, knowing what to expect, closed her eyes and delved into her mind to fetch the pool of molten energy that she recognized as her magic. The gate holding the energy slowly opened as Yuna prodded it. All at once, the gate flung open. Her silver marked palm began to itch and burn and she opened her eyes with a smile.

She focused on the pebble resting in her open palm.

"This is impossible," Eragon snapped as he searched for the magic within him.

"Stenr reisa," Yuna murmured. She watched as the pebbled wobbled into the air as her palm glowed dully through the black of her gloves. She fed the words more and more energy as the stone threatened to waver and the pebble stilled, rising ever slightly.

Yuna began to feel her hold on the hot magic slip and she consented, letting the pebble gently glide back to her palm. As the magic was released, she was struck with a pang of hunger but nothing worse. She looked up to Brom's gentle smile and Eragon's shocked face.

"I'd say that your experience with magic in the past did help. It was easier for you to reach it, right?" Brom surmised. Yuna, still smiling proudly, nodded. Eragon's hand closed around the pebble and his face was stained with frustration. Yuna guided Kiirai closer to Eragon and placed her hand on his.

"You're just going about it wrong. You're trying too hard to force it out. The energy is in your mind, you just have to find it. Go under the thoughts and memories, and there will be a barrier, or a gate. It was hard for me at first, but you get better at breaking through the barrier."

Eragon's expression did not change and Yuna sighed, brushing his mind with hers.

Let me in. I'll help you find it, she coaxed. Eragon grumbled wordlessly but let her in. Yuna gently led Eragon through his own mind until, deep inside the recesses of his mind, was a small bump that Yuna recognized.

Is that-

Eragon, that is your magic, Yuna said proudly. All you have to do now is breach the barrier. It'll be hard the first time, but it gets easier.

Yuna slid out of Eragon's mind easily, grinning when Eragon stared determinedly at the pebble in his hand. After a moment, he gasped.

"Stenr reisa," he said breathlessly. The pebble wobbled into the air and Eragon visibly struggled to keep it floating as his gedwëy ignasia glowed from the magic. The power slipped from his hold and the pebble dropped to his hand once more.

"Not bad for your first try," Brom said.

"Why does my hand do that?" Eragon asked, studying his palm. "It's like a little lantern."

"No one's sure," Brom admitted. "The riders always preferred to channel their power through whichever hand bore the gedwëy ignasia. You can use your other palm, but it isn't as easy... I'll buy you some gloves at the next town, if it isn't gutted. You hide the mark pretty well on your own, but we don't want anyone to see it by accident. Besides, there may be times when you won't want the glow to alert an enemy."

"Do you have a mark of your own?" Eragon asked curiously.

"No. Only riders have them," said Brom. "Also, you should know that magic is affected by distance, just like an arrow or a spear. If you try to lift or move something a mile away, it'll take more energy than if you were closer. So if you see enemies racing after you from a league away, let them approach before using magic. Now! Try it again, the both of you."

"Again?" Eragon asked weakly.

"Yes! And this time be quicker about it."

These exercises continued throughout the day before melting into a lesson on phrases from the ancient language. The work left Eragon tired and ill-tempered, but left Yuna craving more knowledge. She had learned early on that a good education was a rare gift, and not one to be taken for granted. Eragon however, who had no formal education in his sixteen years, felt otherwise. It was with much reluctance that he pocketed the pebble once Brom was content with the exercise.

That evening, it was Yuna's turn to spar. With each strike, she grew more confident in her ability and relied on her instincts, as Brom had first ordered. When Brom finally released her, he was nursing a red mark on his left shoulder that would darken into a bruise without doubt. Yuna's body was also sore and battered, but she was pleased with her progress.

The days following came and went quickly, and the three set into a steady routine. Brom would set the two riders to practice lifting the stone into the air before drilling them in the words of the ancient language. In the evening, they were trained with mock swords.

The two began to change, though it was subtle. The pebble stopped wobbling as it rose into the air for either sixteen year old. Old training exercises were soon mastered and followed by ones of a more difficult caliber while their knowledge of the ancient language.

Their schedule changed so that, one day a week, Eragon and Yuna would team up together to fight Brom to improve their teamwork. Their strength grew with their speed and the two began to understand how to fend off attacks and deal blows. In their duels with Brom, the old man no longer escaped unscathed from either of his students.

Saphira and Arget grew as well. Their extended flights and regular hunting outings kept the two dragons fit and healthy. Each were taller than the horses, and much longer. Of course, with their growth and the spectacular coloring of their scales, both Saphira and Arget were increasingly visible. Unfortunately, neither Arget nor Saphira consented to allow dirt to obscure their brilliant scales.

The group continued south, tracking the Ra'zac along the Ninor Ricer. No matter how fast the horses were pushed, the cloaked monsters always seemed a few days ahead of their hunters. Yuna grew nervous about the ordeal but did not voice her concern due to the look of anticipation and bloodlust in Eragon's eyes whenever they saw a new mark or print that showed the presence of the Ra'zac along the river.

In time, as this schedule continued uninterrupted, they reached Daret, the first village since Yazuac. On Brom's orders, they camped within a mile of the village, wanting to get there early in the morning in case of attack. It wouldn't do to arrive in the dead of night, exhausted.

How goes your training? Arget asked. Yuna sensed a gloomy tint to his voice and easily jumped to the saddle, leaning against Arget's neck with a saddle.

Well, I think. Are you upset that we haven't been able to fly?

Not upset. It makes me glad to see you grow stronger, although I do not wish to be so far from you.

It's necessary, when we're this close to other people.

Even so... It makes me uneasy when you are not near. If I cannot see you, I cannot protect you as I should. Saphira feels the same way. Each time I let you out of my sight, you seem to get yourself into trouble.

I took care of those urgals, didn't I?

And then slept for many hours. If there had been more urgals in that village then-

Then you would have rescued me. Or Eragon could have held them off until you came and ripped them to shreds. I don't doubt your ability to protect me, Arget. I only wish that you trusted in my ability to protect myself.

A rumble emanated from Arget's chest, but it was not amused. Yuna could feel frustration leaking from Arget's mind and she ran a hand over his scales. After a moment, he spoke.

I do not want to lose you, little one.

Then don't, Yuna smiled. Arget's rumbling growl ceased and he turned his head to study his rider.

It is late, he said suddenly. Rest well, friend-of-my-heart. If that village proves dangerous, you cannot be weary.

Yuna slid down from the saddle and Arget turned on his side, giving her access to his warm belly. A contented smile broadened her lips as she curled into his side, quickly falling asleep.

Chapter Text

Yuna guided Kiirai at a gentle trot behind Snowfire. She felt tense as she entered the too-quiet town. Her bow was drawn and an arrow was fitted to the string. Her dagger resided in her boot once more, and her sword was at the ready in her saddlebags.

Eragon was similarly primed for any possible battle. His bow was resting in his hand, an arrow partially drawn. Brom gripped his sword in his right hand, his eyes darting about warily.

"It's too quiet," Yuna noted as they entered the deserted center of town. Brom glanced about them.

"Let's get out of here. I don't like the feel of this," he agreed, wheeling Snowfire around. He spurred the white stallion into a gallop and his two students followed behind him, prodding their steeds forward.

They advanced only a few strides before wagons toppled out from behind the houses, blocking their exit. Cadoc, Kiirai, and Snowfire all skidded to a stop and Yuna glanced around, noting that the other streets leading out of the square were similarly blocked.

A man hopped over one of the wagons, planting his feet four yards away. A broadsword swung lazily at his hip and a drawn bow was in his hand. Eragon lifted his bow to him, pulling the arrow back carefully. Yuna lifted her bow, but did not pull back her string.

"Halt! Put your weapons down! You're surrounded by sixty archers. They'll shoot if you move," the man commanded. As if on cue, a row of men stood up on the roofs of the surrounding houses, each holding a bow in his grasp.

"What do you want?" Brom asked calmly. Yuna gently let her mind fan out towards the man, and soon sensed indecision. She noted that he didn't want to attack any of them, especially her. According to the man's thoughts, she resembled his late sister.

"Why have you come here?" the man demanded in reply. Brom glanced at his students, thinking of a believable lie.

"To buy supplies and hear the news. Nothing more. We're on our way to her sister's home in Dras-Leona," Brom said, nodding to Yuna.

"You're pretty heavily armed," the man noted suspiciously.

"So are you. These are dangerous times," said Brom.

"True," he responded, looking at them carefully. "I don't think you mean us ill, but we've had too many encounters with urgals and bandits for me to trust you only on your word."

"If it doesn't matter what we say, then what happens now?" Yuna countered, unable to stop herself. Brom glared at her to be silent, but the man chuckled dryly.

"You say that you only want supplies. Would you agree to stay here while we bring what you need, then pay us and leave immediately?"

"Yes."

"Alright," the man said, only now lowering his bow. Yuna noted that he kept it at the ready. He waved to an archer, who descended from the roof and accepted Brom's list of needed provisions, a pair of gloves included.

"The name's Trevor," said the man standing in front of them. "Normally I'd shake your hand, but under the circumstances, I think I'll keep my distance. Tell me, where are you from?"

"Up north," Brom said vaguely. "We haven't lived in any place long enough to call it home. Have urgals forced you to take these measures?"

"Yes. And worse fiends... Do you have any news from other towns? We receive word from them rarely, but there have been reports that they are also beleaguered."

Brom's face darkened, as did Yuna and Eragon's. He told Trevor of Yazuac's fate. Trevor, shocked, stepped back. Brom recommended that the townspeople leave the area, but he was told that many people had spent too long in Daret to willingly leave it.

The archer from before came out from a house laden with goods, which he deposited beside the horses. Brom paid him and he vanished into the houses. Brom dug through the items and picked out a pair of gloves, tossing them to Eragon.

"Well," Brom said as Eragon flexed his hand, "as I promised, we will go now."

"When you enter Dras-Leona, would you do us this favor? Alert the Empire to our plight and that of the other towns. If word of this hasn't reached the king by now, it's cause for worry. And if it has, but he has chosen to do nothing, that too is cause for worry," Trevor reasoned, a sad note in his voice towards the end.

"We will carry your message," Brom promised. "May your swords stay sharp."

"And yours."

The wagons were pulled out of their way and they rode from Daret and into the trees along the Ninor River. Yuna brought Arget up to speed on what had occurred and he replied with a wordless acknowledgment.

"The Empire is in worse condition than I had imagined. When the traders visited Carvahall, they brought reports of unrest, but I never believed that it was this widespread. With all these urgals around, it seems that the Empire itself is under attack, yet no troops or soldiers have been sent out. It's as if the king doesn't care to defend his domain."

"It is strange," Eragon agreed.

"Did you use any of your powers while we were in Daret?" Brom asked, ducking under a low-lying branch.

"There was no reason to," Eragon said, shaking his head. Yuna's 'yes' died in her throat but Brom must have zeroed in on it.

"And what did you do?"

"I glanced around Trevor's mind. Apparently, I look like his sister," Yuna said, embarrassed. Eragon's eyebrows met with confusion and Brom nodded proudly.

"Good. Eragon, if you had sent your mind out, you could have sensed Trevor's intentions. Even with my limited abilities, I was able to do that. If the villagers had been bent on killing us, I wouldn't have just sat there. However, I felt that there was a reasonable chance of talking our way out of there, which is what I did."

"But to look into someone else's mind..." Eragon murmured, looking uncomfortable with the idea.

"Come now," chided Brom. "You could have discovered Trevor's purpose in the same way you communicate with Cadoc or Saphira. The minds of men are not so different from a dragon's or horse's. It's a simple thing to do, but it's a power you must use sparingly and with great caution. A person's mind is his last sanctuary. You must never violate it unless circumstances command you to. The riders had very strict rules regarding this. If they were broken without due cause, the punishment was severe."

"And you can do this even though you aren't a rider?" Eragon asked.

"He already said that he's been trained to do it," Yuna cut in shortly. "Is there some way we can block someone from our mind, though?"

"Why, yes. Hasn't Arget ever blocked you from his mind?"

Yuna sent her mind back, perplexed.

"Not that I remember, no," she responded. Brom looked half-surprised.

"Saphira has, occasionally," Eragon admitted. "When she took me into the Spine, I couldn't talk to her at all. It wasn't that she was ignoring me; I don't think she could even hear me. There were walls around her mind that I couldn't get through."

"Only a few people can tell if someone is in their mind. Out of those, only a handful could stop you from entering. It's a matter of training and how you think. Because of your magical power, you'll always know if someone is in your mind. Once you do, blocking them is a simple matter of concentrating on one thing to the exclusion of all else. For instance, if you only think about a brick wall, that's all the enemy will find in your mind. However, it takes a huge amount of energy and discipline to block someone for any length of time. If you're distracted by even the slightest thing, your wall will waver and your opponent will slip in through the weakness."

"How can I learn to do this?" was the logical question that followed.

"There's only one thing for it: practice, practice, and yet more practice. Picture something in your mind and hold it there to the exclusion of all else for as long as you can. It is a very advanced ability; only a handful ever master it."

"I don't need perfection, just safety," Eragon said in a quiet voice.

Sometimes, they may mean the same thing, Arget murmured to Yuna. Also, do not stand so close to Eragon.

Why-

Yuna stopped mid-thought as Saphira and Arget came into view. Arget was lounging on the ground, calmly watching Saphira with a keen gaze. Saphira looked anything but calm. She thrust her head towards the horses, causing them to step back nervously as Saphira looked Eragon over carefully, giving off a low hiss. Her eyes were flinty and, buried deep in their depths, furious.

Yuna slid off of Kiirai's back and guided the palomino closer to Arget for protection as Saphira growled. Eragon dismounted Cadoc carefully, but his caution went unrewarded. Saphira swept his legs out from under him with a flick of her powerful tail, knocking him backwards onto the ground. In the same motion, her clawed foot pinned him to the ground, even as he struggled to get up.

"What are you doing?" Eragon shouted out. He continued to struggle, but she did not relent. Brom and Yuna studied them carefully, not hearing Saphira's side of the conversation. After a moment, Saphira stared into Eragon's eyes and Yuna felt a brush on her subconscious, which she recognized as Arget.

She has decided that Eragon is incapable of shielding himself from harm. I tried to convince her that the old one would protect him, but she would not hear reason.

Have I mentioned that I'm glad that you trust in my abilities? Yuna said nervously as Saphira snarled, snapping her teeth close to Eragon's ear. The female rider noticed that Eragon dropped his gaze in short order.

"Well?" Brom demanded after a moment of silence.

"She wants me to ride her tomorrow," Eragon said, breaking an awkward silence. Yuna swallowed a laugh.

"Well, you do need to learn how. At this point, Yuna probably knows how Arget moves just as well as she knows her own body. You need to familiarize yourself with Saphira's style of flight as well. As long as you stay out of sight, it shouldn't be a problem."

"But what if you're attacked or there's an accident? I won't be able to get there in time and-"

Saphira pressed harder on his chest, stopping him mid-sentence. She spoke her next words with such ferocity that Yuna could hear them distantly.

Exactly my point, little one.

Yuna hid a smile, as did Brom.

After a moment of silent conversation, Saphira let Eragon up, pushing herself away before taking to the skies.

Yuna wasted no time in passing her reins to Eragon and leaping to Arget's saddle, a grin on her face.

"See you at sundown," was her only goodbye before Arget took off as well.

That night, it was time for both students to duel against Brom. Taking up their sticks once more, the three began moving in a deadly dance. In the midst of the fight, Eragon delivered such a powerful blow that snapped Brom's mock sword in half, leaving his shaking with a resounding twang. Brom looked at the fragments in his hand before throwing them into the fire.

"Take a break and give me your stick," Brom ordered suddenly. Eragon obeyed, passing the older man his stick before sitting beside the fire, watching Brom and Yuna.

The fight resumed and Yuna fought more furiously than she thought she could. Even so, it did not prevent her from collecting a large bruise on her leg. An angry frustration rising in her, she ducked away from Brom's sword once more, dancing away.

She studied him from a few feet away as he did the same, each waiting for the other to make the first move. Eventually, after nearly a minute of inaction, Yuna ran forward before hitting the ground in a slide, flying under and behind Brom. She jumped to her feet and spun her sword towards her opponent.

The sound of splitting wood echoed around the camp. Yuna looked at her hands with a measure of shock as she studied the splintered wood. A third of her weapon was laying on the ground by her feet alongside a large portion of Brom's mock sword. Brom nodded at her, standing from his stance.

"We're officially done with these," Brom announced, tossing the remaining sticks into the fire. "You have learned well, both of you, but we've gone as far as we can with branches. There is nothing more you can gain from them. It is time for you to use a real blade."

Brom lifted Zar'roc and Yuna's blade from their belongings, offering each to their owner. As he passed Yuna's blade into her hand, he met her eyes.

"A rider's blade is a symbol of their strength. It's name reflects their beliefs or ideals. A named blade has power. Each swing or jab is given reason in that title. Chose your blade's name well."

Yuna nodded and Brom turned to face the fire, his eyes thoughtfully.

"After today, you'll spar individually once more. For tonight, however, we will continue our fight."

"We'll cut each other to ribbons," Eragon protested. Brom's eyes twinkled.

"Not so. Again you forget magic," he said. He held his sword up, turning it so that firelight glinted off the edge. He put a finger on either side of the blade and focused intensely, deepening the lines on his forehead. Yuna could feel energy begin to swirl in the old man and he uttered, "Gëuloth du knífr!"

A small red spark jumped between his fingers and he ran his fingers down the length of the sword before turning it over and did the same to the other side. The spark left the moment his fingers left the metal.

Brom held his hand out, palm up, and slashed it with the sword. His students jumped forward but were too slow to stop him. Brom raised his hand with a smile, showing the unbroken skin.

"What did you do?" Eragon asked.

"Feel the edge," Brom offered. Eragon touched it, soon followed by Yuna, and felt an invisible forcing their fingers to slip away from the metal. It was about a quarter of an inch thick and let them gain no traction against the blade.

"No do the same on Zar'roc and your blade," Brom instructed to the young riders. "Your block will be a bit different than mine, but it should accomplish the same thing."

He coached the learning riders through the process, teaching them how to correctly pronounce the words. It took Eragon a few tries but Zar'roc's edge was soon protected. Yuna managed it on the first try and slipped into her stance.

Once they were all readied, Brom studied them appraisingly.

"These swords won't cut us, but they can still break bones. I would prefer to avoid that, so don't flail about like you normally do." At Yuna's raised eyebrow, Brom corrected himself. "That means you, boy. A blow to the neck could prove fatal."

Eragon, a scowl on his face, nodded before lunging forward, striking without warning. Brom parried the blow with some effort before ducking away from Yuna's blade.

Though Zar'roc felt slow and heavy in Eragon's hand, Yuna felt that her blade was merely an extension of her arm and just as easy to wield as a Trader's staff or the stick she had been training with.

When the three stopped, each had large welts crossing their bodies. Yuna was proud that, while Brom had been struck the least, she was next in that lineup. Eragon went to sleep surely and ill-tempered, making Yuna's smile broaden further.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Yuna set to work showing Eragon how to properly fasten the saddle to Saphira's back, carefully teaching him how to tie each knot as Brom had taught her. Eragon did not look very happy and there was a nervousness about his movements but Yuna paid it no heed. If today's flight was as successful as her flights with Arget, it would be soon hard to tear Eragon from Saphira's back.

Is that how you feel? Arget rumbled in her mind, an amused snort sounding from his throat. Yuna laughed to herself.

I never wish to stop flying. You know that. It's a shame I have to eat more often than you do. Otherwise we could fly to the Boer Mountains and back, leaving the rest of the world tied to the ground.

You sound like me, little one.

Yuna grinned at him as she made her way to him, ready to prep his saddle.

Something of you was destined to leave its mark, she shrugged. She glanced briefly at her gloved palm. I already have one mark. If a love of the open sky is another, I welcome it with open arms.

"Now remember," Brom was saying from beside Eragon as the latter climbed carefully onto Saphira's back. "Grip with your knees, guide her with your thoughts, and stay as flat as you can on her back. Nothing will go wrong if you don't panic."

Eragon nodded almost shakily, securing his legs with the saddle's bands. Yuna swallowed a laugh, knowing that Eragon was not looking forward to flying- yet. She leapt to Arget's back nimbly, forgoing the straps.

Let's fly, she grinned mentally. Arget glanced back at her to show her his own toothy grin before crouching to the ground. Yuna took a breath and Arget whipped his wings downward and pushed up, forcing the ground away from him.

Arget flew up in a tight spiral, forcing Yuna to hold on tightly lest she fall off. He spun through the air and the ground rose above them until it righted itself once more as Arget leveled out. Yuna heard Eragon start to say something and she looked towards him. He and Saphira were a dozen yards away and Yuna grinned when Saphira rolled in the air, eliciting a yelp of surprise from Eragon.

"Don't do that!" he cried. "I feel like I'm going to fall off!"

Would you like to show them how it's done? Yuna thought towards Arget. He did not respond verbally, but a mischievous edge entered his thoughts, making Yuna tighten her hold in anticipation.

Arget banked sharply towards Saphira, ducking under her before she needed to evade. Once under her, Arget rose in a spiral, corkscrewing around the dragoness as Yuna laughed from his back. He entered a steep dive and rose just as sharply before beginning an intricate series of loops and turns.

How much do you trust me? Arget asked suddenly. Yuna's brow furrowed slightly with the question.

With my life.

Arget, with a surge of adrenaline, twisted through the air until both he and his rider were upside-down, the earth far below them. Yuna understood her partner's thoughts and wondered if his idea would work. In a moment of complete faith and trust, she released her hold on the saddle, freefalling through the air. She spun herself around midair and briefly saw an image in the sky.

She was falling in the image as well, but she was watching herself fall, as if she were only a bystander. The skies, which were once blue and cloudless, were black and red with flame. The cries of men bleeding and dying was echoing from beneath her as Arget swept his wings through the air on his way to catch her. The Yuna in the image held a silver sword in her hand and her eyes were narrowed as she slashed it, still in air, towards a tall man with red hair and red eyes. The man only smiled cruelly, whipping his own thin sword up to parry the blow. There was a flash of sparks, and Arget appeared under her. The other Yuna scowled from the saddle and reached for her bow, which was situated at the side of Arget's saddle, and drew an arrow, aiming it towards her enemy with a fluid motion. It was too late, however, and the enemy had disappeared from her sight. She cursed under her breath in an unknown language.

She distantly heard a cry of alarm from Eragon. The image disappeared, temporarily blinding her with the brilliance of the blue sky.

Arget put on a burst of speed and turned himself downward, lining himself up with his rider effortlessly. Yuna prepared herself for the landing, which would almost undoubtedly hurt, but slipped back into the saddle easily.

Just like that- she began to think before she felt a pressure on her mind. She sent her own mind to investigate the source of the consciousness that was now attempting to break into her thoughts, and relaxed.

Brom, she acknowledged, letting the man in. He grumbled angrily.

That boy blocked me out of his mind. You both need to land. I'm here... Brom sent her an image of his location and Yuna immediately relayed both the order and the image to Arget. When Arget began to bank, she launched her mind at Eragon's thoughts, but saw only a blue iridescent scale that she knew to be Saphira's. Yuna applied increasing pressure to Eragon's mind until she crashed through the image.

Eragon! she called, irritation leaking into her mental voice.

Yuna? Eragon asked suspiciously. Yuna sighed.

Yeah, genius, it's me. Brom wants us to land. Ask Saphira to go to... Yuna pushed the image of Brom's location to Eragon's mind and he relayed it to Saphira, who began to follow Arget to the ground.

They landed in a clearing and Brom walked over to them testily.

"What's wrong?" Eragon asked.

"Don't block me out like that again. It's hard enough for me to reach you without having to fight to make myself heard."

"Sorry," Eragon apologized sheepishly. Brom snorted.

"I was further down the river when I noticed that the Ra'zac's tracks had ceased. I backtracked until I found where they had disappeared. Look at the ground and tell me what you see."

Eragon knelt, soon followed by Yuna. The two studied the myriad of tracks intently. There were footprints left from the Ra'zac which seemed to be a few days old at the most, but there were also long thick gouges torn into the ground that were scattered about. Ella noted a pattern.

"There were two..." she commented, gesturing to the long gouges. She glanced up at Arget. "These look almost like they were carved by a dragon, but that doesn't match. I may not be an expert, but the Empire's citizens would have heard if two dragons were flying around. Not to mention that I doubt a dragon would let a Ra'zac within twenty feet of them unless they planned to fight."

"You're correct. No dragon would consent to bear a Ra'zac. I doubt that even Shruiken would allow it," Brom agreed darkly. "I've heard reports of the Ra'zac moving from place to place with incredible speed, but this is the first evidence I've had of will be nearly impossible to find them if they have flying steeds."

"What do we do then? Saphira can't track them through the sky. Even if she could, we would leave you far behind."

I could carry the old one, Arget commented, looking at Brom appraisingly. Yuna voiced Arget's comment, but Brom shook his head.

"It is an honor, but that would mean abandoning the horses... There is no easy solution to this riddle. Let's have lunch while we think on it. Perhaps inspiration will strike us while we eat."

Lunch came and went, and Yuna sensed Eragon's mood grow darker and darker.

"I have considered every trick I know, every word of power within my grasp, and all the skills we have, but I still don't see how we can find the Ra'zac. Saphira could show herself at some town, but it would be an extremely risky thing to attempt. The Ra'zac would bring soldiers with them, and the king might be interested enough to come himself, which would spell certain death for all three of us."

"So what now?" Eragon asked, throwing his hands up. Yuna frowned at his hopeless tone.

"That's up to you. This is your crusade," Brom reminded him. Yuna sighed, crossing her arms as she leaned against Arget's side.

"This is all getting so ridiculous," she muttered. Brom's and Eragon's eyes darted to her face and she sat up, ready to explain. "Think about it. When this all started, Eragon and I decided that we had three options: fight the king, join the king, or keep Saphira and Arget a secret. Well, option three is out. Option two is unthinkable, at least to me."

And to me, young one, Arget rumbled. Yuna nodded at him.

"So?" she asked rhetorically. "One option left. We're thinking so narrowly about this revenge quest. Think about it. Brom, you said yourself that the Ra'zac were the king's personal dragon-hunters. If we start openly fighting against the Empire, we'll be trailed by the Ra'zac."

"Or you'll get yourself slaughtered by the king," Brom countered. Yuna sighed again.

"Then I'll have died for something other than revenge," she retorted. "I owe Garrow a debt as well as Eragon, but I don't think he'd want us to relentlessly chase after his murderers. In the three months I knew him, I never knew him to be petty."

"This isn't-" Eragon began angrily. Yuna glared at him.

"This isn't petty? We're dragging ourselves thin over the hopes that, when we finally do confront the Ra'zac, that we'll be strong enough to beat them. Tell me, Dragon Rider, what would happen to the rest of Alagaësia if we got ourselves killed?"

Yuna took a breath to steady herself, aware of how loud her voice had risen. Slowing her heartbeat, she closed her eyes briefly before staring into Eragon's eyes. He averted his eyes first, shifting his weight uneasily.

"If Galbatorix is really and truly as powerful and evil as we've heard, than we're only hurting ourselves by fighting him indirectly. Right now, we are sitting ducks. What we need to do is get somewhere we can train safely."

Yuna left it at that, relaxing against Arget's side once more as he grumbled in agreement. Eragon's eyes were downcast, but there was a determined anger in them. Brom was studying Yuna's face thoughtfully.

Silence reigned over the clearing.

Eragon looked up from the ground to look at Yuna.

"What are you so afraid of?"

Yuna met his eyes calmly.

"Becoming a martyr for something I didn't believe in," she said evenly. Eragon shook his head.

"No. You're afraid of something. What?"

Your vision, Arget prodded suddenly. Yuna's head whipped around and she met his ice blue eyes.

"What is it?" Brom demanded. Yuna looked back at the old man before back at Arget.

"Earlier, when Arget and I were flying, I had a... vision," she said, a hint of unease in her voice. "We tried this new maneuver, and I saw something different... We were flying over a battlefield, using the same maneuver. People were fighting below us, and the sky was black with smoke. There were fires everywhere... I was fighting someone, in the air. He was in the air with us, on something like a dark cloud- just floating there. I tried to stab him in the chest with my sword, but he just smiled and blocked it. Arget caught me and we began to fly away from him, and I reached for my bow, but the other man was too far away."

"Did you have any visions like this before?" Brom asked intently. Yuna shook her head at once before slowed indecisively.

"I was asleep, but it seemed more real than a dream. It was our first day in the plains, right after we sparred for the first time. The Ra'zac were there, and they knew that they were being followed. It was weird, though, and muddled. I couldn't get any clear images, I just knew that they were drawing us out of the Spine and onto the plains. They were provoking us into chasing them. Which, if that was their goal, succeeded."

"If you get another vision like that, tell me at once. It might mean nothing, or it could mean a great deal. True premonitions are rare, even among riders. Was there anything else?"

"It's small, but there was something that I thought was strange about the second one, the battlefield. I had a different sword. Instead of the own I made, the blade was entirely silver with a pure black hilt. There was something written on it, but I didn't get a good look at it."

If Brom was surprised by the description, he hide it very well. He turned to talk to Eragon, only to find that he was nowhere in sight. Yuna turned to ask Saphira and the dragoness gestured into the trees with a flick of her head.

Yuna got to her feet, stretching her legs, and followed Eragon into the sparse woods. When she found him, he was studying a metal flask. She watched as he tipped the flask onto his finger, letting a single drop of its contents spill out. He yelped and fell to his knees, scrubbing his hand on the ground.

"What happened?" Yuna asked concernedly, running to his side. Eragon only stared at his finger. Yuna was startled to see that a patch of skin had been eaten away. She picked up the metal flask, making certain that it was properly sealed.

"Come on. Brom will want to see this," she said, pulling at his shoulder. He stood, looking somewhat shamefaced as Yuna led him away, carefully avoiding sending him worried glances.

The entered the clearing once more and found Brom fiddling with Snowfire's saddlebags.

"Look what Eragon found," Yuna said, passing the flask to the old man. Brom inspected the flask before pouring out a small amount of the liquid into the cap.

"Watch out, it'll burn you-"

"Skin, I know," Brom nodded. "And I suppose you went ahead and poured it all over your hand? Your finger? Well, at least you showed sense enough not to drink it. Only a puddle would have been left of you."

"What exactly is that?" Yuna asked.

"Oil from the petals of the Seithr plant, which grows on a small island in the frigid northern seas. In its natural state, the oil is used for preserving pearls- it makes them lustrous and strong. But when specific words are spoken over the oil, along with a blood sacrifice, it gains the property to eat any flesh. That along wouldn't make it special- there are plenty of acids that can dissolve sinew and bone- except for the fact that it leaves everything else untouched. You can dip anything into the oil and pull it out unharmed, unless it was once part of an animal or human. This has made it a weapon of choice for torture and assassination. It can be stored in wood, slathered on the point of a spear, or dripped onto sheets so that the next person to touch them will be burned. There are myriad uses for it, limited only by your ingenuity. Any injury caused by it is always slow to heal. It's rather rare and expensive, especially in this converted form."

Yuna's thoughts darkened and a wave of anger gathered at the edge of her mind, ready to drown her thoughts into rage.

"Garrow," she murmured, her darkened eyes flashing angrily. Brom hid his surprise at the conclusion but nodded once.

"If it's so valuable, why would they leave it behind?" Eragon asked, overcoming a wall of horror that had formed with Yuna's suppressed anger.

"It must have slipped off when they flew away," Brom surmised.

"But why didn't they come back for it when they realized it was gone? I doubt that the king will be pleased that they lost it," Eragon thought aloud.

"No, he won't," Brom agreed, "but he would be even more displeased if they had delayed bringing him news of you. In fact, if the Ra'zac have reached him by now, you can be sure that the king has learned your name. And that means we will have to be much more careful when we go into towns. There will be notices and alerts about you posted throughout the Empire."

"But what about me?" Yuna asked. "If Galbatorix didn't know of Arget's egg for some reason, and the Ra'zac never saw me or talked to anyone who had seen Arget's egg, wouldn't that give us some measure of inconspicuousness?"

"I wouldn't risk your life on such a large uncertainty. It is best to be cautious, in any situation," Brom decided.

The clearing fell into silence once more before Eragon broke it.

"This oil, how rare is it exactly?"

"Like diamonds in a pig trough... Actually, the normal oil is used by jewelers, but only those who can afford it."

"So there are people who trade in it?"

"Perhaps one, maybe two," Brom confirmed.

"Good," Eragon said with a proud grin. "Now, do the cities along the coast keep shipping records?"

"Of course they do." Yuna noted that Brom's eyes had brightened- a sure sign that he was pleased or proud. "If we could get to those records, they would tell us who brought the oil south and where it went from there."

"And the record of the Empire's purchase will tell us where the Ra'zac live!" Eragon concluded. Yuna felt her stomach twist uncomfortably. It was similar to her dream.

We're being led to their lair, whether the monsters know it or not, Yuna said uneasily to Arget. He trained his thoughts on what comforted him, sending the emotion to her through their link. Yuna thanked him wordlessly.

"The coast is dotted with numerous cities and towns where ships can land. I suppose that Teirm would be the place to start, as it controls most of the trade," Brom said, clearly continuing on a point. "The last I heard, my old friend Jeod lives there. We haven't seen each other for many years, but he might be willing to help us. And because he's a merchant, it's possible that he has access to those records."

This makes me uneasy.

You will not be forced to join them, I'm sure. If they try, I will snap you up and carry you to the Beors before he can so much as blink, Arget said confidently. Yuna smiled in her mind, sending Arget her wordless amusement until it spiraled downwards into indecision.

I fear that if we leave this group, misfortune will strike.

Brom is no defenseless hatchling, little one. And Eragon has improved in his fight. Not to mention that Saphira would not rest if she believed her rider to be in any danger, just as I would not.

Still, I don't trust them to last without us. Besides, of the three of us, I am the only remotely capable cook. If I go, who knows what they may be forced to eat?

You worry for things out of your control. If they must suffer for their unbalanced skills, then so be it.

... If they get poisoned, I am going to say I told you so.

And I shall laugh at their incompetence. Now, are we agreed on our fate?

... Fine. But we shall stay at least until we arrive at Teirm. We need allies, and we can't afford to lose Eragon and Brom. If anything, Brom could point us in a safe direction. He always seems to know more than he says.

That's because he's a-

Arget abruptly cut off his sentence, leaving Yuna hopelessly curious. Sadly, for the first time, Arget saw fit to block her completely from his thoughts. All she found was a detailed image of a cloud structure in the near-distance.

Yuna sighed impatiently and Brom raised an eyebrow.

"What is it?"

"Arget's decided to block me out," Yuna admitted. Brom chuckled under his breath and Yuna bit back an angry retort. She glanced back at Cadoc instead, who was rider-less. After lunch, Eragon had jumped at the chance to continue his flight with Saphira, leaving Yuna to make sure that Cadoc was not led astray.

"Humans are not the only race to maintain their privacy, especially when stressed."

"Hmm... We were talking about you, actually," Yuna said suddenly. Brom glanced back her questioningly and she elaborated. "You always seem to know more than you say. I hardly ever manage to get a straight answer from you, and you're always thinking something you don't trust us enough to care to tell us about."

"I suppose," Brom said aloofly. "When you have reached my age, you learn that knowledge is a powerful weapon. To trust two teenagers with my thoughts would be to disarm myself."

"Only if those two teenagers speak of it," Yuna countered. Brom said nothing, maintaining a searching look on the horizon. Yuna looked out towards the horizon as well. The silence was comfortable, but not.

Yuna was the first to break it.

"You know, in a strange way, you remind me a lot of my father. I think you two would have either been the closest of friends or the worst of enemies. He always spoke carefully. You could have a conversation that lasted twenty minutes in which he discovered everything about you, but you only learned that his favorite color was green. Even then, you were never sure if it was green or blue. My mother always said that it was his fault that I started reading into people. It was my only way to really be sure of anything, especially if my father was involved."

"You miss him," Brom commented. Yuna was surprised by the gentleness in his voice.

"Not as much as you would think," she admitted slowly. "I spent enough time with him that I learned my morals. I spent enough time without him to know that it isn't always black and white and that some things need to be done even if you don't like them... You've lost someone too."

"Hmm?" Brom asked. Yuna picked up on the cautious look in his eyes before he concealed it. Encouraged, she pressed on.

"You have. I know. I don't know who, and it's not my business to know. From what Garrow spoke of you, you kept to yourself in Carvahall. Fifteen years is a long time to mourn. Whoever it was must have been important to you though."

Brom kept his silence and Yuna decided to stop trying him. His patience did have a limit after all.

Arget? she asked tentatively. She breathed a sigh of relief when he let her in. I'm done prying... For now.

Chapter Text

The journey to Teirm was uneventful at best.

Their education, sparring included, continued without break. The long days got Eragon and Yuna into excellent shape. Their bodies were stripped of excess fat which was replaced by corded muscles. Eragon's skin tanned and the constant sun bleached Yuna's chestnut hair to a dark blonde that was only a few shades darker than her palomino's pelt.

Days passed swiftly and soon enough they were choosing the names that they would use to slip into the city of Teirm. Brom was decided to be Neal while Eragon took up the name Evan and Yuna became Evelyn.

Teirm finally came into sight. To Eragon, it was a massive fortress, prepped for war. To Brom, it was just another city. To Yuna, it was somewhere in between.

Because each house had been built short than the one next to it, causing a step-like formation of buildings surrounding the citadel, the city looked foreboding and unwelcome.

There were subtle signs of hardship throughout the city. Men bore weapons in easily accessible sheaths. There were no children playing in the streets. People wore hardened expressions, and no one laughed. Emaciated dogs sat tiredly in the shade of alleyways, looking out at the people walking the streets with sad eyes.

The three walked through the dismal streets on the east side of town, which Yuna quickly decided was the slums. Eventually, they came to a stop outside of a run-down tavern. Brom ordered his students to tie their horses to the hitching post and they ventured inside The Green Chestnut.

Yuna felt unsafe in the room, as if she were a cowering rabbit hiding from a predator. A fire was slowly dying in the fireplace, but no one made any move to give it more fuel. There were just a few people in the corners, nursing their drinks with sullen expressions. A man sitting at the far end of the bar held a glass in one hand as he eyed his other, where two of his fingers had been reduced to faintly twitching stubs. The bartender looked out on his domain with a grim pleasure. He held a broken glass in hand, polishing it regardless of its state.

"Do you know where we can find a man called Jeod?" Brom asked in a low voice, leaning over the bar. The bartender sneered at the trio. Yuna's finger twitched towards the dagger in her boot just as Eragon's hand fiddled with his bow, slung across his back.

"Now, why would I know something like that? Do you think I keep track of the mangy louts in this forsaken place?" the bartender said in an overly loud voice. All eyes in the tavern turned to them.

"Could you be enticed to remember?" Brom asked smoothly, sliding a few coins onto the bar. The bartender brightened, setting his broken glass down.

"Could be," he replied, lowering his voice. "But my memory takes a great deal of prodding."

Brom's face soured, and he slid more coins onto the bar. The bartender looked at the coins appraisingly before he finally nodded.

"All right," he decided, reaching for the coins. Just before he touched them, the man missing two fingers called out from his end of the bar.

"Gareth, what in th' blazes do you think you're doing? Anyone on the street could tell them where Jeod lives. What are you charging them for?"

Brom swept the coins back into his possession and the man, now identified as Gareth, shot a venomous look at the man sitting at the bar. He turned around angrily, returning to his glass. Brom led the two teenagers to the end of the bar.

"Thanks. The name's Neal. This is Evan, and Evelyn," Brom said, nodding to the wary teenagers. The man raised his mug to them in acknowledgment.

"Martin," he introduced himself, "and of course you met Gareth... Go ahead and sit down, I don't mind."

Martin noticed that Eragon shifted his chair so that his back was to the wall and he faced the door but he made not comment, only raising an eyebrow.

"You just saved me a few crowns," Brom said.

"My pleasure. Can't blame Gareth, though. Business hasn't been doing so well lately. Jeod lives on the west side of town, right next to Angela, the herbalist. Do you have business with him?"

"Of a sort," Brom said evasively.

"Well, he won't be interested in buying anything. He just lost another ship a few days ago," Gareth said in a low voice. Brom leaned forward in interest.

"What happened? It wasn't urgals, was it?"

"No; they've left the area. No one's seen 'em in almost a year. It seems they've all gone south and east. But they aren't the problem. See, most of our business is through sea trade, as I'm sure you know. Well," he stopped to drink from his mug, "starting several months ago, someone's been attacking our ships. It's not the usual piracy, because only ships that carry the goods of certain merchants are attacked. Jeod's one of 'em. It's gotten so bad that no captain will accept those merchants' goods, which makes life difficult around here. Especially because some of 'em run the largest shipping businesses in the Empire. They're being forced to send goods by land. It's driven costs up painfully high, and the caravans don't always make it."

"Do you have any idea who's responsible? There must be witnesses," Brom said. Martin shook his head tiredly.

"No one survives the attacks. Ships go out, then disappear; they're never seen again." He leaned towards them, dropping his voice. "The sailors are saying that it's magic." He nodded, winking, and leaned back in his chair. Brom put a worried expression on his face.

"What do you think?"

"I don't know," Martin shrugged carelessly. "And I don't think I will unless I'm unfortunate enough to be on one of those ships."

"Are you a sailor?" Eragon asked. Martin snorted.

"Do I look like one? The captains hire me to defend their ships against pirates. And those thieving scum haven't been very active lately. Still, it's a good job."

The three took their leave and headed to the west side of town, which was clearly wealthier. The houses were clean, ornate, and large. People walking in the streets wore expensive finery and walked with authority. Yuna noticed Eragon's discomfort and smiled gently, walking closer to him and dropping her voice.

"Two thirds of nobility is presentation," she hinted. "If you walk with power, you're powerful. Don't look so wary."

She looked at him with a pointed glance before striding away in demonstration, her head held high. She melded almost effortlessly into the crowds, even with her now-travel worn clothing. She reappeared in a matter of moments, grabbing his hand.

"Now, walk," she ordered.

Chapter Text

The herbalist's shop was easy to find, mainly because of the large and colorful sign hanging over the doorway. In the doorway was the herbalist herself, holding a frog in one hand and a pen in the other.

"Which one do you think is his?" Eragon asked, staring between the two nearly identical homes that were on either side of the store. Brom deliberated before coming up blank.

"Let's find out," he shrugged. He approached the woman and asked politely, "Could you tell us which house Jeod lives in?"

"I could," the woman, Angela, confirmed. Her pen scribbled notes across her paper as she studied the frog carefully.

"Will you tell us?" was Brom's next question.

"Yes." Once again, she did not look up from her frog. The frog in her hand croaked and looked at the trio with baleful eyes. The three did not move, but Angela did not elaborate. Eragon was about to blurt something out when Angela beat him to it. "Of course I'll tell you! All you have to do is ask. Your first question was whether or not I could tell you, and the second was if I would tell you. You never actually put the question to me."

"Then let me ask properly," Brom said smoothly, a smile on his face. "Which house is Jeod's? And why are you holding a frog?"

"Now we're getting somewhere," Angela smiled. "Jeod is on the right. As for the frog, he's actually a toad. I'm trying to prove that toads don't exist- that they're are only frogs."

"How can toads not exist if you have one on your hand right now?" Eragon cut in. "Besides, what good will it do, proving that there are only frogs?"

"If there are only frogs, than that frog was never a toad to begin with," Yuna said, rolling her eyes. "For example, I could point at a chair and say that it's not a chair, and you wouldn't be able to do anything because you couldn't disprove my statement. It's philosophy at its most basic. I think therefore I am and all that."

Angela's eyes gleamed and her smile broadened into a grin.

"Therefore the toad you see doesn't exist and was actually a frog to begin with," she finished before laughing. "Clever girl. And, to answer your question, if I can prove that there are only frogs, then toads won't be able to do anything bad- like make teeth fall out, cause warts, and poison or kill people. Also, witches won't be able to use any of their evil spells because, of course, there won't be any toads around."

"I see," Brom said delicately. "It sounds interesting, and I would like to hear more, but we have to meet Jeod."

"Or course," she said, waving them away before returning to her writing.

"She's crazy!" Eragon said as soon as they were out of earshot.

"It's possible," Brom considered, "but you never know. She might discover something useful, so don't criticize. Who knows, toad might really be frogs!"

"And my shoes are made of gold," Eragon snorted.

The door before them had a marble doorstep with a wrought-iron knocker. Brom lifted the heavy knocker and banged it against the wood thrice. No one answered.

"Maybe this is the wrong house. Let's try to other one," Eragon suggested. Brom ignored him, knocking once more.

Again, there was no reply. Eragon turned away in exasperation, but Yuna heard footsteps quickly approach the door. A young woman with a pale complexion and pale yellow hair opened it. Her eyes were puffy and slightly red, as if she had been crying, but her voice was steady.

"Yes, what do you want?"

"Does Jeod live here?" Brom inquired smoothly. The woman dipped her head ever so slightly in confirmation.

"Yes, he is my husband. Is he expecting you?"

"No, but we need to talk with him," Brom said.

"He is very busy."

"We have traveled far. It's very important that we see him," Brom continued. The door opened no further and the woman's face hardened.

"He is busy," she repeated. Brom bristled slightly but his voice stayed light and pleasant.

"Since he is unavailable, would you please give him a message?" Her mouth twitched, but she consented. "Tell him that a friend from Gil'ead is waiting outside."

"Very well," she said icily. She closed the door abruptly and her footsteps faded away into the house.

"That wasn't very polite," Eragon commented. Brom's eyes snapped to him.

"Keep your opinions to yourself. And don't say anything, both of you. Let me do the talking." Brom crossed his arms as Eragon clamped his mouth shut, looking away. Yuna looked on with a touch of amusement but kept her silence.

Without warning, the door flew open, revealing a tall man. He was well dressed, but his clothes were wrinkled and tired looking. His graying hair sat haphazardly on his head, and his face was etched with old worries. A long scar stretched across his scalp to his temple.

At the sight of them, his eyes grew wide and he sagged against the doorframe, speechless. His mouth opened and closed several times like a gaping fish. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft and disbelieving.

"Brom...?"

"It's good to see you, Jeod," Brom greeted, putting a finger to his lips and clasping the man's arm. "I'm glad that memory has not failed you, but don't use that name. It would be unfortunate if anyone knew I was here."

Jeod looked around himself, shock on his face.

"I thought you were dead," he said, his voice a whisper. "What happened? Why haven't you contacted me before?"

"All things will be explained. Do you have a place where we can talk safely?"

Jeod hesitated, his eyes darting from Brom, to Eragon, then to Yuna, and back. His face was unreadable, but he eventually shook his head.

"We can't talk here, but if you wait a moment, I'll take you somewhere we can."

"Fine," Brom agreed. Jeod nodded to himself and vanished into his home. Yuna turned and leaned against the wall, studying Brom.

"An old friend?" she inquired lightly. Brom promptly ignored her and she sighed exasperatedly, closing her eyes to wait for Jeod to return.

When he did, a rapier hung from his waist. An embroidered jacket hung over his shoulders, matched by a plumed hat. Brom cast a critical eye at the finery but Jeod only shrugged self-consciously.

Jeod led the trio through Teirm toward the citadel.

"Risthart, the lord of Teirm, has decreed that all the business owners must have their headquarters in his castle. Even though most of us conduct our business elsewhere, we still have to rent rooms there. It's nonsense, but we abide by it anyway to keep him calm. We'll ve free of eavesdroppers in there; the walls are thick," Jeod explained, gesturing to the citadel.

The four entered through the fortress's main gain and into the keep before walking to a side door at Jeod's direction. Eragon and Yuna secured the three horses to an iron ring beside the door and they were ready to continue. Jeod unlocked the door with a heavy iron key and let them inside.

The hallway inside the door was long, dark, and dismal. Torches secured to the wall every few yards lit the corridor but they did little against the cold and dampness of the hallway.

Jeod took a torch from the wall and led his companions down the dank hall, stopping before a heavy wooden door. He unlocked it and ushered them inside. The room was decorated by a large bearskin rug that was dotted with a number of comfortably stuffed chairs. Bookshelves stacked with leather-bound volumes lined the walls all around the room. Jeod set a fire in the stone fireplace and had the three sit.

"You, old man, have some explaining to do," Jeod said as he took a seat. The new fire began to eat away at the cold but Yuna didn't let herself relax completely. Not until she deemed Jeod safe.

"Who are you calling an old man? The last time I saw you there was no gray in your hair. Now it looks like it's in the final stages of decomposition." Brom's voice was teasing and a smile pulled at his lips.

"And you look the same as you did nearly twenty years ago. Time seems to have preserved you as a crotchety old man just to inflict wisdom upon each new generation. Enough of this! Get on with the story. That's always what you were good at."

Brom relaxed into a chair and pulled out his trusty pipe. He slowly blew a smoke ring that turned green and darted into the fireplace before flying up the chimney.

"Do you remember what we were doing in Gil'ead?" Brom asked finally.

"Yes, of course. That sort of thing is hard to forget."

"An understatement, but true nonetheless," Brom agreed dryly. "When we were... separated, I couldn't find you. In the midst of the turmoil I stumbled into a small room. There wasn't anything extraordinary in it- just crates and boxes- but out of curiosity, I rummaged around anyway. Fortune smiled on me that hour, for I found what we had been searching for." Jeod's face was overcome by shock as Brom paused. "Once it was in my hands, I couldn't wait for you. At any second I might have been discovered, and all lost. Disguising myself as best I could, I fled the city and ran to the..." Brom glanced quickly at Eragon and Yuna before correcting his slip-up. "Ran to our friends. They stored it in a vault, for safekeeping, and made me promise to care for whomever received it. Until the day when my skills would be needed, I had to disappear. No one could know that I was alive- not even you- though it grieved me to pain you unnecessarily. So I went north and hid in Carvahall."

A frown crossed Jeod's face that turned thoughtful. "So our... friends knew that were alive all this time?"

"Yes."

"I suppose the ruse was unavoidable, though I wish they had told me," Jeod said, sighing. "Isn't Carvahall farther north, on the other side of the Spine?" Brom nodded once and Jeod turned his eyes to Eragon and Yuna, carefully taking in each detail. "I assume, then, that you are fulfilling your duty."

"It's not that simple," Brom said, shaking his head. "It was stolen a while ago- at least that's what I presume, for I haven't received word from our friends, and I suspect their messengers were waylaid- so I decided to find out what I could. Eragon and Yuna happened to be traveling in the same direction. We have stayed together for a time now."

"But if they haven't sent any messages, how could you know that it was-"

"Eragon's uncle was brutally killed by the Ra'zac. They burned his home and nearly caught both him and Yuna, who had been staying with his family, in the process. He deserves revenge, but they have left us without a trail to follow, and we need help finding them."

"I see... But why have you come here? I don't know where the Ra'zac might be hiding and anyone who does won't tell you," Jeod said, his face clearing of some puzzlement. Brom, in response, pulled out the metal flask the Ra'zac left behind and tossed it to his old friend.

"There's Seithr oil in there- the dangerous kind. The Ra'zac were carrying it. They lost it by the trail, and we happened to find it. We need to see Teirm's shipping records so we can trace the Empire's purchases of the oil. That should tell us where the Ra'zac's lair is."

The lines etched across Jeod's face deepened as he thought. He gestured to the shelves lining the walls.

"Do you see those? They are all records from my business. One business. You have gotten yourself into a project that could take months. There is another, greater problem. The records you seek are held in this castle, but only Brand, Risthart's administrator of trade, sees them regularly. Traders such as myself aren't allowed to handle them. They fear that we will falsify the results, thus cheating the Empire of its precious taxes."

"I can deal with that when the time comes. But we need a few days of rest before we can think of proceeding."

"It seems that it is my turn to help you. My house is yours, of course. Do you have another name while you are here?"

"Yes. I'm Neal, the boy is Evan, and her name is Evelyn."

"Eragon... You have a unique name. Few have ever been named after the first rider. In my life I've read of only three people who were called such."

Brom looked at the teenagers, ignoring Eragon's startled surprise that Jeod knew the origin of his name.

"Could you two go check on the horses and make sure they're alright? I don't think I tied Snowfire to the ring tightly enough."

Eragon shoved himself out of his chair, his eyes flashing with a sullen anger as he stormed out of the door. Yuna rolled her eyes as she stood.

"If you wanted us to leave so you and your friend could speak privately, you could just ask," she pointed out. "There's no need to make up an excuse. You've already made it clear that there are some things we can't know for our own good."

Brom's lips quirked up in an amused smile.

"Make sure the boy doesn't get himself into trouble," Brom said wryly. Yuna nodded and escaped the room, murmuring under her breath.

"Thverr stenr un atra eka hórna," she said, releasing the gate that kept her magic in control in the back of her mind. Whispers rose to an audible conversation and she listened with interest as she walked down the hall towards the horses and Eragon.

When she reached Eragon, he too was concentrating. She winked at him, gesturing for him to stay silent.

They listened to the conversation quietly, pulling their minds back. Yuna saw Eragon's eyes begin to burn with questions, but she sent the new information to the back of her mind. At this point, it would only distract her.

She untied all three horses, pressing Cadoc's reins into Eragon's hand just as the door opened to reveal Brom and Jeod.

"Were the horses alright?" Brom asked, glancing with a wry smile in Yuna direction.

"Fine," Eragon grumbled. Yuna kept her hold on Snowfire and Kiirai, letting the older men led them back to Jeod's home. They left their horses in the man's stable before following him to a tavern. Unlike The Green Chestnut, it was thriving and clean.

Dinner was delicious, and the four lingered over the table for hours, trading stories that neither Eragon nor Yuna had ever heard. The tavern was a welcome change from hard days of ceaseless travel and, by the time they left the tavern, their spirits had risen.

Eragon soon detached himself from the group, intent on checking on Saphira. Yuna had considered visiting Arget, but the silver dragon had shot the idea down, knowing it would be a perfect opportunity to get information from Brom. In any case, this was her best chance at leaving the group before they got in over their heads. Keeping Arget safe was her main concern and following the Ra'zac seemed the best way to get discovered.

The two old friends walked at a relaxed pace, not in any rush to reach their destination, and Yuna followed behind them, content to remain silent.

When they arrived at Jeod's home, the two older men immediately went to the shelter of Jeod's study. Yuna was quick to follow, seeing her opportunity.

"You've been rather quiet," Brom noted as they sat down. "It's been a nice change."

Yuna glared at him good-naturedly before relenting. She paused, not sure how to word exactly what she wanted to say.

"I've been watching you two," she shrugged. "I tend to be quiet when I want to know something. It's an unfortunate habit, and one that tends to get me found out."

"What are you watching for?" Jeod asked carefully. Yuna chuckled.

"To see how much I can trust you," she said, smiling. "So far, you haven't done anything that raises any red flags. Of course, there are years of unknowns that I'm a little wary of, but I couldn't sense any lies when you and Brom were talking in the citadel."

"You were listening." Brom's voice did not betray anything, and his eyes were unsurprised. Yuna shrugged.

"I told you when we first left Palancar Valley: I'm too curious to ignore anything. I think I've figured out exactly what you two were doing in Gil'ead."

Brom's eyes narrowed ever so slightly and Yuna took this as encouragement. She glanced around. The curtains were closed, as was the door. Even so, she dropped her voice to a whisper and leaned forward.

"Jeod could not know that you were still alive, because that would mean someone else knowing the possible whereabouts of a certain blue object. Which means that your 'friends' are not even slightly associated with the Empire, and strong enough to oppose it to such an extent as hiding said object. Which leads me to a certain organization which has been rebelling against the king for years. How am I doing so far?"

Jeod's face was shocked, even though he tried to hide it. Brom's expression was guarded, making Yuna smile with a wry pride.

"I'll take that as confirmation. What's next... Oh, yes. That organization has you go off the grid. Where else to go except Carvahall? It's surrounded by the Spine, which claimed half of the king's armies. Close enough to Du Weldenvarden that the elves- yes, elves, I've figured that out- can contact you in case anything goes wrong."

"I knew that you were going to get on my nerves," Brom said, confirming everything she had said. Yuna flashed a smile.

"The king and your friends only knew that blue was out of his control. They didn't know silver even existed. Which brings me to my next point. I want out. Every day we follow the Ra'zac, is another day that someone can see me. If the king finds about my and my friend, then we'll be in just as much as trouble as Eragon. His safety is my top priority, and it's at risk if we stay with you."

"If you separate yourself, you're in more trouble than you might imagine," Brom said, shaking his head. Yuna crossed her arms, leaning back in her seat.

"Jeod is sending his messenger where his goods go. I can follow the route of the goods to your friends. I'll be safe enough there. Or we can go straight to Du Weldenvarden."

"I don't think you understand," Brom said icily. "If you go to either without the proper training and experience, you will be consumed by their politics. You'll swear things you'd rather leave alone or you'll insult someone accidentally."

"I can mend an ego. I can't-"

Yuna gasped quietly as she was struck with a wave of pain. Her vision clouded over before melting into clarity.

She was in a dark cell, looking at a young woman. She was chained to the wall, her wrists bound and her feet shackled. Yuna could see where the metal had cut into her skin, leaving it raw and bloody. Her face, illuminated by a beam of moonlight that had slipped through the barred window, was fair but marred with a short series of thin and shallow scratches and patches of dirt and grime. The woman's features were not unlike her own, but were completely different at the same time. A single tear rolled down her cheek, lit by the moonlight. Her long dark hair was pulled back on one side, letting Yuna have a clear view of her profile.

Her ear ended in a tip.

An elf.

Yuna gasped, and the vision was gone. She was on the ground, with Brom kneeling beside her, shaking her arm as he spoke to her. Jeod was on her other side, looking startled and worried.

"Yuna- Come on," Brom coaxed, helping her sit up as he saw her eyes flood with awareness. She complied though the motion pained her. "What was it? Did you see something?"

Yuna nodded slowly, collecting herself and finding her voice.

"A young woman," she said after a pause.

"What was happening?" Brom asked intently. Yuna looked up at him with serious eyes.

"She was in a cell by herself. Chained to the wall. She was hurt, but it didn't look too serious." Jeod looked like he was about to breath a sigh of relief but Yuna continued. "There's something else, though... She was an elf."

Brom swore under his breath very quietly, so much so that Yuna could barely hear from only a few feet away.

"Have you had these visions before?" Jeod asked. Yuna nodded and Brom quickly explained his theory on premonitions. Jeod's eyes darkened.

"Brom, this just makes me more sure that I have to leave. She needs to be found, and Eragon will not want to abandon his hunt."

Brom only shook his head.

"There is nothing to say that this is happening now. Think of your earlier vision. You saw that vision weeks ago and it has not happened."

"I know," Yuna insisted. There was an urgency to this vision.

"Whenever it happens, we can't act yet," Brom decided, a hint of sadness in his voice. "This is not something we can discuss, at least not now. You are no where near trained well enough to attempt anything that large. She will have to wait."

"Wait until what?" Yuna cried. Suddenly aware of how loud her voice had risen, she took a moment to calm herself. She got to her feet and went to the door. "I need to meditate."

Brom did not question her nor acknowledge her as she closed the door behind her. Jeod looked at Brom with respect in his eyes.

"She seems... difficult," he said carefully. Brom sighed.

"She's eager to learn, quick to analyze, and adaptable. Better than that, she has good judgment. I can deal with the rest," he said, almost to himself.

"Not if she leaves before her education is finished," Jeod said somberly.

"She said it herself: she'll make her way to Du Weldenvarden. I would have rather her stay with us, but if that is her next choice, it will have to do."

Brom quieted for a moment, returning to his pipe, and Eragon stepped through the door. Jeod and Brom forced a light demeanor.

"Ah, here you are. We were getting worried about you. How was your walk?" Brom asked pleasantly.

Chapter Text

Yuna sat with her legs crossed, her eyes closed as she focused her breathing. The hold on her magic threatened to loosen as she did so, but she kept it at bay.

Her senses opened to everything, small and large, living and not. She concentrated on the sound of the waves in the distance, letting her mind fill with the gentle rhythm.

While doing so, inspiration struck her. She got to her feet and went to the door of the bedroom that had been offered to her. She went down the hall, to where Brom was to be staying. She heard an acknowledgment from within and opened the door.

"I've just had an idea," Yuna said before realizing that Eragon was also in the room. She nodded to him before continuing on her point. "Is there some way to view something, even if it's not in front of you?"

Brom chuckled.

"Eragon just asked the same thing. I will tell you what I was about to tell him: What you are talking about is called scrying. It is quite possible and extremely helpful in some situations, but it has a major drawback. You can only observe people, places, and things that you've already seen. If you were to scry the Ra'zac, you'd see them alright, but not their surroundings. There are other problems as well. Let's say that you wanted to view a page in a book, one that you had already seen. You could only see the page if the book were open to it. If the book were closed when you tried, the page would appear completely blank."

"Why can't you view objects that you haven't seen?" Eragon asked.

"Because," Brom began, "to scry, you have to know what you're looking at and where to direct your power. Even if a stranger was described to you, it would still be nigh impossible to view him, not to mention the ground and whatever else might be around him. You have to know what you're going to scry before you can scry it. Does that answer your question?"

"But how is it done?" Eragon asked after a moment of thought. "Do you conjure the image in thin air?"

"Not usually. That takes more energy than projecting it onto a reflective surface like a pool of water or a mirror. Some riders used to travel everywhere they could, trying to see as much as possible. Then, whenever war or some other calamity occurred, they would be able to view events throughout Alagaësia."

"How do you do it?" Yuna asked curiously. Brom looked at her, and then Eragon, carefully.

"Scrying takes a lot of strength. I will tell you the words, but you must promise not to attempt it tonight. I'd rather you wait until we leave Teirm; there is still a lot for you to learn."

"I promise," the two chorused. Brom leaned in close and whispered, very quietly, "Draumr kópa."

Yuna thanked Brom for the knowledge and committed the words to memory. With that said, she brought out her other question.

"In Emelan, where I was being educated, it was possible to store energy into crystals and things. Do you know if that is possible here as well?" she asked Brom. Brom looked surprised at the question but nodded.

"It is very possible, and was well practiced among riders. There are many substances that are unfit to store the energy, but most crystals can hold it easily. That was one of the main reasons as to why each riders' blade had a gemstone in the pommel. It was not only for show, it was for energy storage."

"Thank you," Yuna nodded. "I'm going to sleep. I'll see you in the morning," she smiled to the two. Brom and Eragon both nodded.

When Yuna woke, Brom and Jeod had already left for the citadel, leaving her and Eragon the day to do whatever they wished.

She knew that Eragon was still sleeping, so she decided to spend time meditating. Her magical energy, while nearly tripling in size thanks to the daily exercises, had weakened in potency. Her strength was becoming raw, and she didn't entirely approve.

When she had finished, she washed up and studied her reflection.

While her features had always been angular, it was now pronounced by the lack of baby fat that had been worked off by training and sparring. Her green eyes, which had always looked analytical at best, now had a predatory edge. Her bangs had grown out even further, ending just before the small of her back. The rest of her hair was even longer.

Staring at her reflection, she determined that her hair had grown far too long to be anything more than a hindrance. She fetched her dagger from its usual hiding spot in her shoes, sharpening it briefly before holding it to her dirty blond ringlets. When she was content with its length, it ended at her shoulder blades. Her bangs had been cut level with her chin, and pushed out of the way.

She smiled at her reflection and her eyes temporarily lost their edge. She secured her sword to her belt and left to find Eragon.

"Evan... Evan... Evan!" she called out, trying to wake him through the door. After a moment, she heard an acknowledgment. "Neal and Jeod went to the citadel. We have the day off."

Another grumbled acknowledgment, this one happy, was heard through the door, and Yuna smiled.

Tired of waiting for Eragon, Yuna traveled next door. She gave word to the butler as to where she could be found and he promised to deliver the message.

Yuna entered through the door without hesitation, but paused once she was inside, her eyes unaccustomed to the darkness the store was bathed in. After a moment, her vision adjusted, and she began to explore quietly.

A bird, similar to a parrot in coloring, stared at her curiously from behind cage bars. The walls were covered with creeping vines, as was the ceiling, and the floors were earthen with randomly located stepping stones. An old chandelier in need of dusting hung from the ceiling but was not lit. The room was filled with tables and shelves lined with suspicious looking plants and harmless seeming artifacts. The far wall, in front of which lay the counter, was lined with shelves and drawers of all different sizes.

She studied the store carefully, the room somehow reminding her of Dedicate Farklyn's workroom. Farklyn was Winding Circle's best plantmage, and tutor to Rosethorn. Her workroom was always littered with broken pottery, spilled seeds, rich soil, and the like.

She grew quieter when she spotted a massive cat lounging on the counter. It had a lean body and oversized paws. A shaggy off-white mane accented his angular face. Its pointed ears were tipped with black. Its eyes were closed as Yuna paused, studying it, but the animal yawned, showing long fangs that reached over its lower jaw.

It opened its eyes, staring at her with bored red eyes. Yuna smiled sheepishly.

"Did I wake you? I'm sorry," she apologized in a low voice. She froze when she felt someone brush her consciousness. Looking suspiciously at the cat, she let the presence in.

I was getting up anyway, he yawned. Although, you should be more cautious the next time you bumble in somewhere you haven't been.

I'm sorry I disturbed you, Yuna apologized again. I'm not really from these parts, but you aren't a normal cat, are you?

The feline bared its fangs, but Yuna didn't think he was trying to threaten her.

Do I look like other cats?

No. But you're nothing like anything I've seen. Again, I'm not from around here.

Yuna felt the creature prod around her thoughts for a moment before he let out an amused purr.

Indeed, you are not. What a strange place you lived in... As for your question, I am not a cat. I, to correct your unfortunate lapse in education, am a werecat.

Yuna watched as the cat jumped up to a gap between the shelves that she hadn't noticed before. He sat down, tucked his paws under his chest, and closed his eyes contentedly.

What can I call you? Yuna asked carefully. The werecat opened one red eye lazily, appraising her.

I go by many names. You may call me Solembum.

Yuna heard movement behind her and turned to see Eragon enter the shop. Yuna winced as he loudly walked towards her.

"There you are!" he said as he came near. Yuna sighed, glancing up at the werecat. Solembum was staring down at Eragon.

I apologize for my friend.

As I said, I was getting up anyway. What's one more dragon rider?

Yuna looked at him in surprise. After a moment, he purred. Eragon looked around wildly.

I think he believes me to be his dragon, Solembum noted, amused. Yuna chuckled, reaching out to put a hand on Eragon's shoulder.

"Relax. It's just-"

Solembum jumped down.

I suppose I really must get up.

The door to the shop swung open once more, letting in a beam of sunlight and the store's proprietor herself. Angela was carrying a cloth bag full of plants, and her eyes flicked at Solembum before looking at the teenagers.

"He says you talked with him," she said, looking extremely surprised.

"You can talk with him, too?" Eragon asked. Yuna rolled her eyes.

"Remember what Neal said earlier? Anyone can learn how if they have the proper training. Isn't that right?" Yuna asked, now directing her words at Angela. Angela's lips pulled up in a smile.

"Of course, but that doesn't mean he'll say anything back." She set her bag down and turned to face them. "He likes you. That's unusual. Most of the time Solembum doesn't show himself to customers. In fact, he says that you show promise, both of you, given a few years of work."

"Thanks," Eragon said dryly. Yuna beamed under the praise.

"Thank you," she said, nodding to the off-white feline.

"It's a compliment, coming from him. You are the third and fourth person to come in here who has been able to speak with him. The first was a woman, many years ago; the second was a blind beggar. But I don't run a store just so I can prattle on. Is there anything you want? Or did you come in to look?"

"Do you have any crystals? Gemstones?" Yuna asked curiously. Angela nodded once and directed her to a carefully organized rack under one of the windows. Yuna went to the case, inspecting the surprisingly large collection of crystals and semi-precious stones. She was impressed to see that there were a number of precious stones of various kinds.

"Just to look," Eragon said. "Besides, I don't really need any herbs."

"That's not all I do. The rich fool lords pay me for love potions and the like. I never claim that they work, but for some reason they keep coming back. But I don't think you need those chicaneries. Would you like your fortune told? I do that, too, for all the rich fool ladies."

"No, I'm afraid my fortune is pretty much unreadable. And I don't have any money," Eragon said, laughing.

"I think..." Angela drifted off, glancing at Solembum. She then gestured at the crystal ball resting on the counter. "That's only for show- it doesn't do anything. But I do have... Wait here; I'll be right back."

She disappeared into the back of the shop, only to return with a leather pouch.

"I haven't used these for so long, I almost forgot where they were. Now, sit across from me and I'll show you why I went to all this trouble."

Angela explained the use of the dragon knuckle bones as a fortune telling medium and, with his permission, cast the bones for him.

When the time came for her to tell Eragon what she saw of his future, Yuna made sure that she could not hear, out of respect for her friend. If knowing one's fate could be terrible, she wanted Eragon to knowingly tell her. She didn't want to overhear any misfortune aimed at the other rider.

When she was certain that Angela was finished speaking, Yuna ventured back to the herbalist and rider. She had a faceted gemstone in hand that was about half an inch wide in diameter. The stone itself was deep violet veined with black tendrils of matrix running through the crystal.

Yuna stood beside Eragon, facing the herbalist.

"How much is this crystal?"

Angela studied it for a moment before passing it back to Yuna.

"Good choice. Sugilite. If you believe old wives' tales, it aids physical healing, reduces stress, and aids in protecting against negative energies. Personally, I think it's a nice color," Angela said, tossing her dark curls back. "And, for you, its free. Consider it a gift."

"Thank you," Yuna said, knowing that the strange woman would likely take it back if she tried to pay for it.

"Now then, would you like your future read as well? As I told your friend here, knowing one's fate can be a terrible thing. These bones have true power and will not lie. They will tell your fate as best as I can interpret it."

"Maybe another time," Yuna smiled, glancing worriedly at Eragon. He looked pale.

Solembum suddenly jumped onto the counter beside them, staring into Eragon's eyes. He was silently, speaking only to Eragon, before his eyes turned to Yuna.

And you. Your journey has not yet started. Listen to the trees, they will aid you in your quest. When all is well and your fate secure, go to the Röna and fly into the sunrise until you can no longer. Only there shall you find rest.

What quest? Yuna asked. Solembum, however, had said all he would. Yuna could feel herself grow impatient, but she forced herself to let it go.

Angela tilted her head and her hair fell into her face, shadowing her features.

"I don't know what he said, and I don't want to know. He spoke to you and only you. Don't tell anyone else."

"I think I have to go," Eragon said, sounding shaken. Yuna looked surprised at the unease in his voice until he spoke his next words. "Thank you for reading my future."

That explains it. It must not have been good...

"You're welcome," Angela called from the shop as the two teenagers exited the shop. Eragon and Yuna blinked, their eyes unaccustomed to the bright sun.

"Do you want to go for a walk outside the city?" Yuna said carefully. Eragon looked at her with something similar to gratitude in his eyes. Yuna only smiled, grabbing his wrist and leading him away from the herbalist's shop.

Yuna looked up at the mossy cliff side, analyzing a safe route up. Eragon had challenged her to climb it to the top, and she was going to succeed.

Her eyes mapped out a course, and Yuna grinned victoriously and began to climb. She looked down briefly when she was higher than the maple trees growing around the cliff and beamed down at Eragon before continuing.

Once she reached the top and hauled herself over the rocky edge, she heard the two dragons chuckling. The cliff provided a great view of the surrounding area, from the distant Spine to the foaming sea. A dozen tall maple trees grew in a half-circle forty feet away from the edge, providing shade and shelter for the dragons. It was an ideal location. all things considered.

What is it? Yuna asked curiously, projecting her voice so that Saphira could hear, even though Yuna did not invade the dragoness's mind. Saphira, however, was the one to answer, latching onto the connection.

Your climb was much more... successful than Eragon's, she said in a light voice. Yuna laughed as she figured out what the dragoness was getting at. Eragon grumbled as he pulled himself up onto the ledge.

The two spent the day with their companions, leaving only when the sun threatened to set. Eragon and Yuna bade Saphira and Arget goodnight and hurried off to Teirm, making their way to Jeod's home.

Upon arriving, the butler announced that 'Neal' had returned, and was in the study with Jeod. The two strode to the room, peering through the door.

"How did it go?" Eragon asked.

"Bloody awful!" Brom growled around his smoke.

"So you talked to Brand?" Yuna surmised.

"Not that it did any good. This administrator of trade is the worst sort of bureaucrat. He abides by every rule, delights in making his own whenever it can inconvenience someone, and at the same time believes that he's doing good."

"Then he won't let us see the records?" Eragon asked.

"No," Brom snapped, irritated. "Nothing I could say would sway him. He even refused bribes! Substantial ones, too. I didn't think I would ever meet a noble who wasn't corrupt. Now that I have, I find that I prefer them when they're greedy bastards."

He sought comfort in his pipe and began to grumble a steady stream of curses.

"So what now?" Yuna asked bravely, seeing Eragon hesitate in asking. Brom looked up, his eyes still irate as he gestured to Eragon.

"I'm going to take the next week and teach him how to read."

"And after that?" Eragon asked. A smile split Brom's face and Yuna grew wary.

"After that, we're going to give Brand a nasty surprise." Neither Yuna nor Eragon could get any more details from the mysterious old man.

Dinner soon came and went, pushed onwards by the awkwardness of sitting between Jeod and Helen. Not a word was spoken, but everyone could feel the resentment radiating from Helen throughout the meal.

Chapter Text

The week passed quickly with a routine falling in line. Brom would spend much of the day teaching Eragon to read while Yuna extended her knowledge of the ancient language. It was clear to her that Brom was cautious in each word he gave her, but he answered any questions she had without objection.

The three would spar in pairs before dinner, attracting the servants and a small crowd of children. Many were averse to letting or watching a young woman fight with a sword, but they were quieted by a loud clanging sound as their swords met. With widened eyes and open mouths, they saw Brom standing defensively against Yuna's blade and did not argue further.

The time away from Arget and Saphira was hard on the young riders, just as it was on the dragons. However, they all knew that it was necessary in order to see the records hidden away in the citadel.

Each night, Yuna stored whatever energy she had left in her violet crystal, which was now kept around her right middle finger with a braided iron wires that held the stone secure in its new home. The ring was always hiding just under the edge of her fingerless gloves.

The elven woman was never far from her thoughts, though. Unfortunately, neither Yuna nor Brom wanted to bring up her condition to Eragon. Whatever would happen, it would not be good. This kept their conversations muffled and short, ending each time Eragon rounded the corner or glanced up. Yuna could tell that he was getting suspicious, but she could give him no explanation.

Eventually, the day arrived.

Yuna donned a new pair of black leather leggings and a red tunic. A belt at her hips held her blade, newly christened as Ilianar. Her dagger was hidden once more in her boot. The sugilite ring was on her hand. Her bow and quiver were slung on her back. Then, deciding that she looked overly suspicious, she stowed her bow and quiver with her bags.

Meeting with the others, she saw that they were likewise dressed. Once Brom had insulted Jeod's 'toad sticker' of a rapier, they departed the house, walking down the street casually but being careful to avoid watchmen and soldiers.

Entering the citadel seemed too easy to Yuna, but she would not question it. Not yet. At the moment, her time was much better spent searching the scrolls for Seithr oil, as the other three were doing.

After hardly fifteen minutes, and an unnoticed conversation with a certain werecat, Eragon announced to the group that soldiers had been dispatched to find them.

"How do you know?" Brom asked sharply.

"I listened in on the guard. His replacement just sent men to search for us. We have to get out of here. They've probably already discovered that Jeod's office if empty."

"That doesn't matter. If we're caught, we'll fight our way out. If we leave now, we won't be able to get back in, and we might miss their location."

"She's right; no matter. We have to finish this now!" Brom ordered, snatching another scroll from the rack. They worked furiously, scanning the records as fast as possible. Soon enough, the last scroll was finished and put away. Eragon grabbed hold of the torch and Jeod packed up his pen and paper. As they left, Yuna locked the door behind them, following the men out.

They had made it down the hall and were about to turn the corner just as three soldiers came into view.

"Hey! You four!" one shouted. The four turned, caught. Yuna carefully put an irritated look on her face as she turned to Jeod.

"I told you it was a left," she chastised. The others caught on quickly and Jeod glanced at the ground shamefaced.

"I'm afraid we lost our way," he explained to the soldiers. The leader of the group, the tallest, glared at them suspiciously before jerking his head toward the door.

"Check inside the room," he ordered one of his men. The man stepped to the door, tried to opened it, then pounded his fist against the solid wood.

"It's locked, sir," he reported. The leader scratched his chin.

"Ar'right, then. I don't know what you were up to, but as long as the door's locked, I guess you're free to go. Come on."

The three men got in formation around the four, marching them back to the keep and unwittingly aiding their escape. They led the group out of the keep, stopping at the main gates.

"Now, you walk through those and don't try anything. We'll be watching. If you have to come back, wait until morning," one of the soldiers ordered.

"Of course," Jeod promised smoothly.

Brom, Jeod, Eragon, and Yuna all hurried out of the castle, feeling eyes on their backs' as they hastened away. The moment that the gates closed behind them, a triumphant grin stretched across Eragon's face, and he jumped for joy. Brom glared at him.

"Walk back to the house normally," he ordered in a growl. "You can celebrate there."

Eragon quickly adopted a sobered expression, holding his excitement in. Once the group was finally back inside Jeod's study, he exclaimed, "We did it!"

"Yes, but now we have to figure out if it was worth the trouble," Brom grumbled. Jeod fetched a map of Alagaësia from the shelves, unrolling it onto the desk.

The east edge of the map ended in an ocean, extending beyond the reaches of the paper. The Spine trailed down the map along the eastern coast, a massive length of mountains and cliffs. The Hadarac Desert claimed the heart of the map, extending to void at the east edge. Du Weldenvarden was scrawled at the north, the map not doing justice to the sheer size of the forest habitat. To the south was Surda, a small country that had maintained its independence after the fall of the riders. To the west of Surda was a mountain range known as the Beor Mountains. It also reached the edge of the map and beyond.

Five islands were situated off of the Surdan coast: Niá, Parlim, Uden, Illium, and Beirland. Niá was nothing more than a rocky outcropping poking out of the ocean, but Beirland, the largest of the islands, had a small town. Further north, near to Teirm, was the jagged island Sharktooth. Further still was the once majestic island home of the riders: Vroengard. After the fall of the riders, it had been raided and looted, leaving it an empty shell haunted by strange beasts that had been affected by the riders' magical workings.

Cities and towns were mere dots across the parchment. Carvahall, Therinsford, Ceunon, Narda, Yazuac, Daret, Gil'ead, Teirm, Bullridge, Kausta, Belatona, Dras-Leona, Furnost- they were countless. In the heart of the Empire, west of the Hadarac Desert, lay Urû'baen, the capital. It was there that Galbatorix resided alongside Shruiken, his black dragon.

Jeod withdrew the list from his pockets, laying it out beside the map. There, inscribed on the parchment, was the destination of each shipment of Seithr oil that had been shipped in the last five years.

The men began to discuss the possible location of the Ra'zac's hideout. Yuna, having not grown up in the Empire, felt at a loss to contribute much to the conversation. She did, however, listen intently.

By the end of the discussion, when the men had finally settled on Dras-Leona as the most likely home for the king's dragon-hunters, Yuna had done her own deduction. That elf was being held captive at that moment, that she was sure of. Considering that Du Weldenvarden had been the sanctuary of the elves and the inherent danger that holding one captive posed, she must have been captured and held in one of the northern cities. On the other hand, the king would want to have her reasonably close, in case she made an attempt to escape. That eliminated Ceunon, which was too far away from Urû'baen and too close to the forest. That left only Gil'ead, on the southern shore of Lake Isenstar.

Which, unfortunately, was in the opposite direction of Dras-Leona. If Eragon was insistent on following the Ra'zac, that would promise a separation.

Jeod rolled the map up, pressing it into Brom's hands.

"You'll need this, I'm afraid. Your expeditions often take you into obscure regions." Nodding, Brom accepted the map. Jeod clapped him on the shoulder. "It doesn't feel right that you will leave without me. My heart expects to go along, but the rest of me reminds me of my age and responsibilities."

"I know," Brom sympathized. "But you have a life in Teirm. It is time for the next generation to take up the standard. You've done your part; be happy."

"What of you? Does the road ever end for you?" Jeod asked, smiling wryly. Brom laughed, but there was no humor in the sound.

"I see it coming, but not for a while."

With that, the group separated for their rooms, determined to sleep. Yuna, before she lost her nerve, knocked against Brom's door. When she heard an acknowledgment, she opened the door.

"Yes?" Brom asked.

"I'm going to Gil'ead," Yuna blurted out. After a moment of silence, she bit her lip. "If that elf stays in the Empire's hands, her life is in increasing danger. Every minute that Galbatorix can't break into her mind is a minute closer to her death."

"So you are going to Gil'ead, by yourself, to save an elf, who will no doubt be heavily guarded and drugged, that might not even be there?" Brom summarized, raising an eyebrow. Yuna narrowed her eyes determinedly, fetching a bowl of water. She raised her hand over the bowl.

"Draumr kópa," she murmured quietly. The water shuddered before changing into an image of the cell. Yuna felt the slight drain as the magic began to sap her strength, but she ignored the discomfort. She could hold the spell long enough.

The elf's injuries were worse. Her skin was marred with bruises more colorful than before, mottled with blues and purples. Deep scrapes and burns crossed her arms, and a long slash extended from her ear to the corner of her lip. Her hair obscured the rest of her face, but Yuna was certain that the injuries continued upwards.

She cut off her energy to the spell and let the image fade away.

"She is in danger now. If Arget and I leave you and Eragon, we could be at Gil'ead in six days, a week at the most."

"And then what?" Brom asked, a condescending light in his eyes. Yuna crossed her arms.

"I'll sneak into the prison, find the elf's weapons, break her out quietly, and incapacitate anyone who sees me on the way out. Arget can meet us once we're outside the city and can fly both of us across the Ramr River and lose anyone trying to follow us."

"A pretty picture, that's for sure, but are you prepared for it? Can you look a man in the eye as you 'incapacitate' him?" Brom asked, his tone mocking. "This all may sound very easy to you, but you are talking about breaking out a very very high level prisoner."

"I'm aware of that. And I think that it needs to be at least attempted. Arget agrees with me. We are not asking your permission, but your blessing in this."

"Your training has not yet ended," Brom said, his eyes angry. But, under that, Yuna could see something else. It was almost... sad.

"I never intend to stop training," Yuna said smoothly.

"Don't be clever, girl," Brom snapped suddenly. "A lot of hopes are riding on you and Eragon. You can't afford to get yourself killed being a hero."

"I am nearly done with tuatha du orothrim. You've said so yourself. It is nearly time for me to train with the elves. You can't train Eragon as well as you should if you are stuck teaching us different material. I know that you'd rather avoid that, but you had to set him a week back so he could learn to read. It's inevitable. If I stay with you, his education won't be as complete. That means when the time does come to show ourselves as riders, he'll be at risk."

"That's a long way off," Brom said, his tone low and sharp.

"It won't be. Especially if Galbatorix worms his way into her mind," Yuna said, trying to keep her voice quiet as she gestured toward the bowl of water. "The situation is bad, I know. But the best solution is to separate. If I don't free her, then I won't be able to go to the elves with a clear conscious and ask for training and asylum."

Brom was silent, studying Yuna with a sharp gaze. After a moment, he leaned forward. His voice was quiet and dangerous.

"What do you plan to do after she's freed? Hypothetically," he added. "After you cross the Ramr, then what?"

"Du Weldenvarden would be less than a week away. Or the Varden, even. It depends on whom the elf is willing to go to, really," Yuna shrugged. "Personally it'd be easier to go to Du Weldenvarden directly, considering that going to the Varden would mean crossing the expanse of the Hadarac."

"And Eragon? What would you have him do?" Brom asked curiously, his eyes flashing with a dangerous glint.

"I thought that would have been obvious: train. You'll remain with him and have him finish tuatha du orothrim. He, out of the two of us, is at the most risk, after all. The king does not know of me yet, and will be focusing his attention on Eragon."

Brom fell silent once more. Yuna could see the changes in his eyes as he considered the risks and benefits of her plan. After an indeterminable amount of time, Brom sighed.

"Atra esterní ono thelduin, mor'ranr lífaunin hjarta onr, un du evarínya ono varda." After a moment, he translated. "May good fortune rule over you, peace live in your heart, and stars watch over you."

"Thank you," Yuna said sincerely, bowing her head to the old man.

Brom nodded at her. Yuna said goodnight and turned away. As the door closed behind her, Brom's smile twisted sadly.

Chapter Text

"What do you mean you're not coming with us?" Eragon asked, startled. Yuna smiled sadly.

"I will explain more outside of the city," Yuna said, dodging. She turned to Jeod. "I won't have need of Kiirai. She is yours to do with as you see fit. But if you sell her, make sure you get a fair price. She is faster than any urgal and maintains a level head near a roaring dragon."

Jeod nodded somberly.

"Thank you for all of your help," Eragon said as he mounted Cadoc. Yuna slipped on to the horse behind him, slipping her arms around his waist.

Teirm was soon out of sight and Arget and Saphira were soon visible in the skies, landing with pleased roars. Yuna slipped off of Cadoc's back and moved to Arget's saddle, bringing her belongings with her. She lashed on her bags, Ilianar, and her bow before turning to face Eragon.

"I have some things to explain," she said, glancing briefly at the ground. "The most important thing that I can tell you, however, is that Arget and I are leaving. We'll see you again, but I don't know when. It may be in a few weeks, but it could just as easily be a year."

"What could be so important?" Eragon asked after a brief pause. Yuna opened her mouth before closing it, thinking of how to word her response.

"Arget and I can't stay. The king doesn't know of him yet, and I plan to let him continue in ignorance, but he will soon find out if we continue to trail the Ra'zac. I can't ask you to abandon this quest in a way that I have not already, so it is our turn to act. You have your mission, I have mine."

"But-"

"Just promise me that you'll train. Harder than you've ever trained before," Yuna said seriously, her voice almost pleading. Eragon looked at her strangely but nodded. Yuna smiled slightly.

"I suppose that's it, then," she said. She looked at Brom. "Atra stydja hvass onr sverd."

"Un ono," he replied. Yuna turned to Eragon.

"You'll understand why the next time we meet. Until then, atra esterní ono thelduin, Eragon Shur'tugal." Yuna turned to Saphira with a respectful bow. "Atra du vindr reisa undir ono, Saphira Bjartskular."

I shall miss you, friend, Saphira said, nudging Yuna with the tip of her nose. Yuna smiled.

"And I you," she nodded. "Take care."

Arget nodded his goodbyes and took off, flying north-east.

Without anyone to dictate their path, their flight was guided by the stars. Needless to say, it was dull and uneventful. Each day they would fly till dusk, and each night they both would donate energy to Yuna's sugilite ring, falling asleep soon after.

The first night, they camped in a clearing in the Spine, feasting on a deer Arget had snagged. The next day, they flew once more, only stopping to eat and to drink at a small lake, Fläm, before continuing.

They crossed the same stretch of plains leading to Daret which, on horseback, was a four day journey. On Arget's back, however, it was reached by noon on the third day after setting out from Teirm. Not that they went into the town, though. They drank from the Ninor River and followed it east and south as it poured into the Isenstar.

As predicted, Gil'ead was in sight by noon on the sixth day.

It was a rough looking place, populated by identical log houses and yapping dogs. A large stone fortress was located at the city's center. Civilians were few and far between.

Arget and Yuna camped within walking distance of the city, carefully hiding behind a hill.

You should not enter alone.

Well, you can't come with me, my friend, Yuna reminded Arget. Arget growled, the sound a warning rumble.

And that does not cease to cause unease. I am tired of hiding like a criminal, avoiding the eyes of these two-legs. They should cower before me in fear, yet I am forced to keep to the shadows.

I know, I know, Yuna said comfortingly. It'll be easier once we have freed the elf. If we go to Du Weldenvarden, or even the Varden, there will be no shortage of men you can strike fear into. Until then, we have to hide.

Hide? You merely wear gloves. I am the one skulking behind hills. Yuna would have been nervous if not for the amusement behind Arget's irritation. She hummed comfortingly, running a hand over his scales.

All will be well... Soon, we can be on our way.

I know, little one, Arget said after a pause. His voice was thoughtful. Even so, I sometimes wish that things were not this way.

As do I. For now, though, we should sleep. Tomorrow will be dangerous. If I am caught, it means that you may have to reveal yourself.

I look forward to it.

Accompanying his words was a feral and toothy grin. With that, Arget opened his wing and rolled onto his side, sheltering Yuna close to his body. She huddled into his side, letting the warm and sleep overtake her.

Chapter Text

Yuna lowered her hood as she stepped into one of Gil'ead's taverns. Getting into the city had been easy and had relieved the barracks of a dozen men who, at that moment, were searching for the bloodthirsty urgals who had murdered 'Evelyn Elainesdaughter's' father and brothers while she escaped on foot.

Arget was hidden nearby, close enough that he could arrive in just a few minutes in case he was needed, though Yuna hoped it wouldn't come to that.

She wandered around the room before sitting at a table, eavesdropping on a neighboring table's conversation.

It seems there's an opening in the jail's kitchens... All according to plan... This may be easier than I thought...

Without hesitation, Yuna set forth to the jail, inquiring about any possible job openings. She was immediately given an apron and shut into a hot room with three dozen other girls about her age.

"Are you Marissa's replacement?" one of the girls asked in a soft voice. Yuna glanced about her.

"I suppose so," she nodded. "My name is Evelyn."

"I'm Amelia," the other girl introduced before pointing to each girl in the room, naming each one.

"What should I do first?" Yuna asked once she had said hello to everyone. Amelia nodded, lifting a pitcher of water.

"Take this water up to the guardroom," Amelia instructed before listing directions. Yuna absorbed the information and accepted the pitcher. She ascended the stairs and made her way through the hallways into the guardroom.

The guardroom was just that: a room for guards. There was a series of lockers against one wall, with a large table in the center that was dotted with weapons. Two men sat in chairs situated about the table, playing poker.

"Ah, there she is," one of the guards said loudly. "You must be the new girl. You can put that over there," he said, gesturing to an empty part of the table. As Yuna put the pitcher down, she noticed a bow and sword on the table. They looked like no weapons she had ever seen or made. The sword was slim and light with a curved crossguard which ended in sharp points. The bow was oiled until it shone in the light and bore no marks of tools from its creation.

"Those would be from the elf," the other soldier said carelessly. Yuna let her surprise show on her face.

"An elf? I thought the elves all hid away after King Galbatorix rose to power," she said, keeping her tone light and a slight frown on her face. The second guard nodded.

"They did," he said in a serious voice. After a pause, he grinned. "This one was caught, though. Good thing, too. Rumor has it that she was on her way to destroy Ceunon with her magical powers."

"One elf? I don't think she could," Yuna smiled demurely. "Not when it's protected by the king's soldiers. Especially if they're all as big and strong as you two," she smiled, laughing on the inside.

Both guards smiled broadly, sitting up in their chairs.

"Oh, well," Yuna sighed. "I should get back to work."

"Wait, what's your name?"

"Evelyn," Yuna lied smoothly, flashing him a smile before bowing her head. "I'll see you around, gentlemen."

She let the door fall closed behind her and made her way back to the kitchen. Once she was back in the hot room, she walked up to Amelia.

"What now?"

"Well," Amelia said, glancing at a clock. "Marissa usually took food to Graham, and he'd bring it to the prisoners. The problem is, I don't think that Graham came in today."

"So what should I do?"

"Let me ask," Amelia said with a small smile. She disappeared out of a door, returning a few minutes later, with a frown on her face.

"What is it?"

"According to Captain Jaryl, you should take the food directly to the prisoners."

"Really? That sounds a little strange..." Yuna frowned. After a moment, she looked up at Amelia. "Is there anything specific I should know about the prisoners?"

"Well, some of them can use magic-"

"Magic?" Yuna pretended to gasp. Amelia paused, nodding.

"Don't worry, though. There is a special drug in the food that prevents them from using it. Unfortunately, that means that certain trays have to go to specific people."

"Like the elf?" Yuna asked, dropping her voice to a whisper. "Some men in the guardroom told me about her. Is it true that she was going to destroy Ceunon?"

Amelia laughed.

"I don't think she would have destroyed Ceunon, but she could have done something. It's a good thing she was intercepted. But anyway, yes, like her. Her dosage is much higher than the other magic users held here, so its important that she gets the right tray. Hers' is easy to remember, though. Her tray never has meat on it."

"Okay."

Amelia explained which cells were given which trays and soon Yuna was out of the kitchens once more, guiding a cart of food.

Finally, after distributing the food to the prisoners, she came to the elf's cell. The woman was facing the window, her body language tense and coiled. Yuna leaned through the bars, gently placing the tray on the floor. She quickly glanced down the hallway, checking for guards.

"I don't have much time, so I'll talk quickly. I'm getting you out, and soon. I switched the trays, so this one doesn't have the magic inhibitors in it. Eat it; you'll need your strength."

Yuna backed out before the elf could do anything except furrow her brow suspiciously. Yuna turned away, hearing the scuffing of a soldier's boots on the stone floor.

Yuna's day was soon over and she spent the night in the servants' quarters in the prison.

The next morning, she delivered food to the prisoners once more, careful to leave the drugs out of the elf's tray once more. The elf looked suspicious again, but did not say anything, thanks to the guard walking past in the hallway.

Yuna spent the day doing menial chores, waiting for night to fall. When it finally did, she made her way to the guardroom.

Like she had hoped, it was empty. She grabbed the elf's sword, hiding it in her apron, hiding the bow as best as she could. With a wry smile, she snatched a ring of keys and a cloak from one of the lockers.

Yuna crept through the halls, careful to avoid any guards that were prone to wander about the halls. She made her way to the elf's cell and began sorting through the keys for the right one.

The elf looked at her from the bars. Yuna glanced up at her momentarily, murmuring under her breath.

"Eka aí fricia un Shur'tugal," she spoke through the bars. The elf sat up at once, her eyes widening slightly. She winced as she did, and the chains binding her to the wall rattled quietly.

Yuna found the right key and opened the door. She glanced down the hallway and slipped inside. Yuna was surprised when she was struck with the scent of crushed pine needles. Ignoring it, she studied the chains and narrowed her eyes. She brought her right hand to the locks, murmuring under her breath once more as she drew on her magic. The locks clicked open under her hand and she removed the shackles silently.

"Are you able to walk?" she said in an undertone. The elf nodded and stood carefully, wincing ever so slightly. Yuna flashed a slight smile before pulling the elf's weapons from her apron. The elf smiled wryly, sheathing her sword and slinging her bow and quiver across her back.

Yuna stared at her briefly before passing the elf the cloak. The elf put it on at once and motioned towards the hall. Yuna nodded and led the way.

They slipped out from the servants' quarters into the streets. The elf lifted the cloak's hood over her head, hiding her ears, and Yuna quickly led her away from the fortress.

They were nearly out of the city when an alarm began blaring from the fortress. Yuna clenched her fist.

So close!

Yuna led the elf further still. When she approached the gate out of the city, she was stopped by two men.

"Sorry, miss, you and your friend will have to wait until the city's clear," one of the men said in a clear voice. Yuna felt a flicker of remorse.

"Slytha," she said, narrowing her eyes at the man. His eyes rolled back in his head and, before his companion could call for help, Yuna repeated the procedure on the other guard.

Arget! We are out safely. Please come and meet us before they send out soldiers.

... I am on the way.

Yuna and the elf continued on the path until they came to a small hill. Yuna stopped suddenly and the elf sighed in relief.

"That should be far enough... Let me see your injuries," Yuna ordered. The elf looked at her suspiciously and Yuna scoffed. "I just broke you out of one of Galbatorix's most heavily manned cities and you're worried that I'm going to do something to you? Hurting you or sending you back is the last thing on my mind."

"You said you were a rider. Where is your dragon?" the elf asked. There was a pause and Arget, with powerful strokes, alighted down beside Yuna. The rider smiled as Arget nudged her with his powerful head. The elf stepped back slightly, bowing her head in respect.

So this is the elf? Arget asked, sniffing the newcomer carefully. After a moment, he nodded in approval.

"Yes, this is she," Yuna said aloud for the elf's benefits.

What is your name, elf? Arget asked curiously, brushing her mind with his own.

"Arya," she said at once. She seemed startled by the dragon's appearance.

"I am Yuna. This is Arget," Yuna introduced fondly. "And I must say, that was the easiest prison break I've ever been a part of."

It was also the only, little one, Arget murmured, amused. Yuna pouted before turning back to Arya.

"Let me see your injuries. The magical inhibitors will not stop working for at least another day. There is no reason for you to be in pain."

Arget turned his head to the north, studying the dot on the horizon that was the city of Gil'ead.

Friend-of-my-heart, that may have to wait. There are soldiers on the way. We can defeat them, but not if you want to remain unknown, he said. Yuna nodded at him before repeating the warning, jumping into the saddle. She glanced back at Arya.

"Are you coming or not?"

Her eyes widened briefly before she trained her expression, pulling herself into the saddle behind Yuna. Arget crouched and took off, his wings beating steadily as he flew east, intending to cross the Ramr River.

They flew in silence for an unknown length of time until Arya spoke.

"How did you know where I was?" Arya asked.

"I get these... visions occasionally. My teacher said that true premonitions were rare, but I was able to scry you later. I figured that elves weren't exactly prone to travel within the Empire, so I assumed you were on one of the cities near the border. The king wouldn't want to be you so far away from him, so I eliminated Ceunon, leaving Gil'ead."

"Why did you free me?" she asked. Yuna was caught unawares by the question. She glanced back at the elf's face, but it betrayed nothing.

"Why did I free you?" she repeated. "You are one of an ancient and powerful race that was wrongfully being held captive and tortured by a madman's soldiers. And I don't like bullies. I don't put much store by what the soldiers said, but as I understand it, you were ambushed during the night. That's cowardice, nothing more."

"What do you plan to do now?" Arya asked. Yuna chuckled.

"You have a lot of questions, don't you? Anyway, I don't really have a plan now. It's pretty much up to you. As you should know by now, I'm not with the king. That leaves the Varden and Du Weldenvarden for me. It's up to you where you want to go."

"Du Weldenvarden would not be a wise choice," Arya said evenly. Yuna glanced back at her.

"So... the Varden it is," she said. After a pause, Yuna sat up straight. "You wouldn't happen to know the way to the Varden, would you?"

Arya's lips twitched into a slight smile.

"As a matter of fact, I do," she chuckled.

When Arget finally landed, the sun was nearing the horizon. They had covered a lot of ground and crossed the river; it would be nearly impossible for the soldiers to find them now.

They made camp along the Ramr River in a grove of maples growing along the bank. The small group fell asleep quickly, tired by the day's events.

The next morning, as Yuna was saddling Arget, she paused.

"How long were you held captive in Gil'ead?" she asked. A quiet despair flickered through Arya's dark green eyes before it vanished.

"Months."

"You didn't seem surprised that I was a rider, but you seemed surprised when you saw Arget. Why?"

"How did you meet Arget?" Arya responded. Yuna glanced up at Arget's silver head.

"I'm not from these lands. I only arrived in Alagaësia just half a year ago. As I understand now, a spell sent me from my home and dropped me in the Spine. Arget, still in the egg, was also brought to the Spine. As was another egg. A blue dragoness."

A curious light flitted across Arya's features.

"The blue egg hatched?"

"Yes," Yuna said, surprised. "A boy about my age found both eggs and myself. Arget hatched for me some weeks after, just as Saphira hatched for him."

"There are two riders now?" Arya asked, a deadly curiosity in her voice. Yuna nodded.

"Until recently, we traveled together. We were being trained by a man named Brom," Yuna said honestly. Another look of surprise flashed across Arya's face before she checked herself.

"You were taught by Brom?"

"Not for as long as he would have liked. About a week ago we were in Teirm, soon after I had a vision of you in that cell. Premonitions like that are rare for me, and I know enough to know that they mean something, so I knew that you would be important to me or in my future. So, when we left Teirm, I left Brom and Eragon. They are still together. They were heading south to Dras-Leona, looking for the home of the Ra'zac."

"Brom is letting the boy search for the Ra'zac?" Arya's eyes were widened with panic. Yuna nodded, letting Arya accept the new information.

"Before we had left Eragon's home in Carvahall, his uncle was murdered by the Ra'zac with Seithr oil. Eragon's been looking for vengeance ever since."

"We need to find them before they seek the Ra'zac. We can go to the Varden at another time. If Eragon and his dragon are near those creatures, they are in danger."

Arget?

She speaks sense, even though it may take upwards of a week to reach Dras-Leona.

That's true, but Brom and Eragon will be going by horse, not dragon, Yuna smiled broadly. If Jeod's map was accurate, and we're where I think we are, the distance from our current location to Dras-Leona is about the same as Teirm to Gil'ead. If the winds favor us, we can overtake them before they come within forty leagues of the city.

So, we are going to Dras-Leona instead?

It appears that way, yes.

"To Dras-Leona," Yuna confirmed for Arya. Yuna slipped onto the saddle, as did the elven woman.

Leona Lake was in sight by the end of the sixth day, and it was a welcome sight. The flight had been passed in conversation and, by the time the three set up camp near the shore, there was an easy companionship between them.

Yuna stared at the fire, a contented smile on her face. In just a few days, she would be with Brom, Eragon, and Saphira once more. Being separated from them had been lonelier than she had anticipated, even with Arget, and now Arya, for company.

"Do you want to spar?" Yuna asked suddenly. Arya looked at her.

"Do you want to?" she asked back. Yuna shrugged.

"Brom never actually finished training me. My swordplay isn't bad, but it could use some work," she admitted. Arya chuckled, drawing her blade.

"Then draw your blade, Shur'tugal," she said, her tone slightly mocking. Yuna knew her humor well enough to know that it was well-intended, so she fetched Ilianar and blocked the blade as Arya guarded her blade.

When both blades were ready for a spar, Yuna shifted into her stance, mirrored by Arya. Both looked at the other carefully, sizing up their opponent.

She is an elf, and was chosen to guard Saphira's egg; she must be strong. I'll have to pull out all the stops for this, even if we're just sparring.

Then, without warning, Arya lunged forward in a flash of movement. Yuna lifted Ilianar in time to parry the blow, but the effort made her arm shake ever so slightly. Arya was playing with her, and they both knew it.

Even so, Yuna pushed herself to the limits of her ingenuity, combining the most complex series of moves she knew in an effort to catch the elf by surprise.

The spar continued for less than ten minutes yet managed to exhaust Yuna completely. By the time Arya drew her guarded blade level with her throat, the cold metal resting against her bare skin, the elf had not even broken a sweat. Her breathing was as steady as if she had been walking.

It was almost insulting, but Yuna forced herself to remind herself that she was only human, and not fully trained at that.

"You are fairly competent," Arya said, lowering her blade. Yuna smiled briefly. "Brom taught you well."

"I'll say that when I can defeat him," Yuna chuckled. "Will you continue to spar with me?"

"If you wish," Arya said, bowing her head. Yuna smiled and yawned, stretching. "You should rest. Tomorrow will likely be busy."

"Agreed," Yuna nodded before curling into Arget's side. "Goodnight, Arya, Arget."

Arget rumbled contentedly and Arya let her face display a small smile before it disappeared as she murmured a goodnight.

"They must have passed us already," Yuna frowned. "If they made it to Leona Lake so quickly, they may be well on their way to Dras-Leona."

"We cannot let them enter the city," Arya said seriously. With a respectful nod to Arget, she leapt onto the saddle. Yuna pulled herself up as well, sliding into the saddle in front of the elf.

We must hurry.

Do not fear, little one. I can fly faster than any horse can crawl, Arget said, his tone jeering. Yuna gripped the saddle and Arget launched himself into the sky.

There was no time for practicing complex maneuvers. There was only time to soar south, hoping to find the trio before they wandered too far into the shadow of Helgrind.

Chapter Text

Yuna wondered how she had gotten herself into this situation.

Even as doubts and uncertainties drifting through her mind, her gaze was cold and steady as she stared at the shorter of the two Ra'zac from over the shaft of her arrow. The Ra'zac was in her sights, and well within range.

After arriving in Dras-Leona, Yuna and Arya began to search for Eragon and Brom. It was slow work, thanks to the fact that Arya had to maintain her own anonymity, and they eventually parted in favor of searching on their own. It was only after parting that Yuna tracked down Eragon to the massive cathedral occupying the center of the dark and musty city.

It had been almost too late though. When she arrived, the Ra'zac were soundlessly walking towards Eragon, who was kneeling before the altar.

Eragon watched from the other side of the cathedral, his own bow out and ready. His arrow was directed at the Ra'zac, aimed but not entirely accurate.

Eragon! Yuna shouted mentally, slipping her bow off of her shoulder silently. Her eyes were calm but panic pulsed from her thoughts.

Eragon's head shot up and he rose, spinning to face the door.

The Ra'zac made a sound that was similar to laughter, one that sent a cold shiver down Yuna's spine.

They haven't noticed me yet! she realized. With that realization, her resolve strengthened. She drew back on the string, releasing the arrow as Eragon loosed his own arrow.

The taller Ra'zac that Eragon had been aiming at dodged the arrow easily, jumping to the side with inhuman speed. The shorter Ra'zac was not so fortunate, not having anticipated an attack from behind. He was hit in the shoulder, and slumped slightly with a hiss of pain. He turned to face Yuna, but she was already releasing another arrow.

The short Ra'zac rolled to the side and Yuna changed directions at the last moment. The arrow flew, but did not meet its target, burying itself in the wood of the pew the creature had decided to hide behind.

"Eragon, run!" Yuna shouted, releasing another arrow, now aimed at the taller Ra'zac. She released the arrow, intending to provide cover fire for the other rider. "I can't hold them off for long!"

Eragon gazed reluctantly at the Ra'zac.

Have Saphira find Brom. We need to leave. Immediately.

Meet us at the Golden Globe, Eragon replied mentally before running to a vestibule to the left of the altar. He disappeared down it, but was followed quickly by the shorter Ra'zac. The taller creature hissed at her threateningly before his vocalizations transformed into words.

"Destroy her," it hissed before turning and following its kin in the hunt for Eragon. Yuna spun on her heel, her eyes widening slightly as they took in the dozen soldiers bustling towards the doorway. She slung her bow over her shoulder and drew her blade in a single movement. The black metal winked in the light drifting in from the open door. She pointed Ilianar at the soldiers, her eyes narrowed.

"Slytha!" she shouted, holding her sword to the first line of soldiers. Three men fell to the ground. The others paused ever so slightly, giving Yuna the opportunity to draw slightly on the energy stored in her ring, masking the drain on her powers easily.

"If you fight, you will fall," Yuna warned, her voice more confident and dangerous than she had ever heard it. The soldiers paused once more, looking at each other warily. "Choose: let me by, or die."

One of the soldiers broke ranks, fleeing into the city, but the others held firm, drawing swords.

"Slytha," Yuna murmured again, setting another four soldiers to sleep. The drain made her catch her breath, letting the remaining five soldiers approach her warily. She recovered in time to dance to the left, avoiding a sweeping blow to her legs. She kicked out viciously, knocking one of the men back a few feet as he held his gut.

Yuna twisted her wrist and stabbed her sword out, careful to keep her guard up as she had been trained. Scarlet flecked her cheek as she pulled her blade from the man's side. He fell, and, after a moment, was still.

The young woman did not allow herself to dwell on that, however. She twisted downward, hitting the ground roughly as she rolled away from the remaining four soldiers. She spun in a quick circle on the cold marble floor, knocking the legs out from under the men. She reached to her quiver, stabbing one of the men through the breastplate with the arrow's pointed head. She stumbled back as the men began to recover. She forced her breathing to steady itself.

"You are outmatched. Leave in peace," Yuna forced out. A man, the one she had kicked back earlier, snuck up on her, wrapping his arms around her in an attempt to subdue her. Her sword clattered to the floor.

She kicked out once more, striking him below the belt and forcing him to loosen his hold on her. It was only a slight release, but it was enough for her to whirl around and aim a palm thrust at his face, breaking his nose and covering him in blood.

She stole the man's sword as he clutched at his nose, stumbling back in blind pain. She held the unfamiliar weapon at the remaining men. With a bloodthirsty pleasure, she basked in the fear in their eyes, the cold sweat clinging to their pale faces.

"Flee," she ordered in a low voice. And, just like that, the men dropped their weapons and fled from the cathedral. She picked up her sword from the ground, dropping the unfamiliar blade.

She made to leave the cathedral, but heard a whimpering voice. She turned to the source and saw the man whose nose she had broken. He was sitting on the stone floor, leaning against one of the walls.

"What- What are you?" he asked, sounding terrified. Yuna smiled wryly.

"Even I don't know anymore," she said truthfully. "Seven of your companions are only asleep. I cannot save the two dead, but I am sorry for their loss. It should not have been necessary."

"What- What's your name?" he asked, wiping the blood from his face. Yuna stared at him curiously. He was fearful, of that she was sure. Yuna pondered her options for a moment before speaking.

"Sem eka atra waíse sköliro frá rauthr, ono weohnata huildr maninr," she said, deciding. The man's eyes clouded over as his memories from the day faded. The magic took away from her strength and Yuna stumbled against the doorway to catch her breath.

Once outside of the dark cathedral, Yuna glanced down at herself. She was only slightly splattered with blood. She could hide most of it under her cloak. Hopefully.

She remembered Arya in some corner of her mind and sent the elf a mental message to get out of the city before it was put in lock-down. There was a reluctant acknowledgment, but Arya did not argue. There was no time to argue, only to act.

She hastened through the streets, guided by the directions of various pedestrians. When she arrived, Brom and Eragon were already there, finishing saddling the horses. Brom wore a deep scowl.

"I'd say that it's nice to see you again, but I had hoped for better circumstances," Yuna muttered to Brom. He only grunted, swinging onto Snowfire's back. Yuna and Eragon both clambered onto Cadoc's back.

"Saphira will join us once we're out of Dras-Leona."

"So will Arget and Arya," Yuna said. Eragon glanced back at her and she gestured to the road. "I'll explain later; ride!"

The horses set off in a race against time and the Ra'zac, a race that never seemed fair to any involved. They nearly crashed several times as they plowed their way through the crowds separating the Golden Globe and the city's gates.

When the gates finally came into view, they were half-way down and heavily guarded by two rows of pikemen.

"They'll cut us to pieces!" Eragon exclaimed, slowing Cadoc slightly.

"We have to try and make it," Brom said in a dangerous voice. "I'll deal with the men, but you have to keep the gates open for us."

With that, the horses were pushed forward once more towards the line of unwavering soldiers. Each soldier lowered their pikes towards the horses' chests, bracing the weapons against the ground. The horses snorted with fear, understanding the danger, but Eragon and Brom held them firm.

The soldiers came ever closer, and with them, the sharp pikes, until Brom finally raised his hand. He spoke rapidly and under his breath. Yuna understood only a small number of the words and, of them, did not always understand their context. Word phrasing aside, the soldiers immediately fell to either side as if their legs had been cut out from under them.

The gap between the gates shrunk by the second, and Eragon and Yuna flung their right hands up to it.

"Du grind huildr!" each shouted. The gates groaned and grated as they trembled before coming to a full stop. Bystanders and guards alike fell silent with astonishment. The three paid them no heed, escaping through the open gates with a clatter of hooves. The instant they were free of the dark city, the two young riders released the spell. The gates shuddered, then thundered shut, stopping any soldiers from following them.

Yuna helped to support Eragon as he swayed with the fatigue of the spell. She had intended to take an even burden when they held the gates open, but Eragon had put too much of himself into the magic.

They continued to flee ever faster from the city. Saphira and Arget were waiting for them behind a grove of trees. Yuna had just begun to fill with dread when Arya stepped out from the trees.

"You made it out," Yuna sighed, relieved. Arya nodded.

"Of course I did. Did you not make it out smoothly?" she asked. Yuna did not respond as she leapt into Arget's saddle.

"I'll explain later. We need to fly low, fast, and as far away from here as possible," Yuna said tensely.

"Stay in the air, both of you, no matter what happens to me," Brom said, snatching Cadoc's reins from Eragon. Eragon nodded and climbed into Saphira's saddle.

"Arya, stay with us. The king will only be too pleased if he gets his hands on you again," Yuna said grimly. Arya glanced briefly at Brom, ignoring Eragon's thunderstruck expression, and slipped into the saddle behind Yuna.

We fly, Arget said in a low voice, pushing the ground away as he took to the air, quickly followed by Saphira. Are you alright?

Better than I thought I would be... My first kill... Yuna couldn't help but feel mournful. Even as Arget's mind radiated a fierce pleasure.

You are brave to face so many., he complimented. You should not have let them escape, though.

If I didn't let them run, I would be more dragon than human.

Arget rumbled with laughter.

Are you ashamed to feel powerful, little one? If you had been lucky enough to be born a dragon, every creature would bow before you.

I don't want people to bow for me.

Then what do you want?

For now, I just want to get as far away from here as possible, Yuna said, shivering as she remembered the sickly sweet hiss of the Ra'zac.

Arget's response was to bring his wings down harder, pushing himself faster through the sky. Yuna let her gratitude echo through their mental link. Arget's thoughts were comforting in the back of her mind.

Darkness forced the group to stop. Brom guided the horses off of the road, and the dragons landed between two large boulders. It was too dangerous to light a fire, so dinner that night was cold.

After the sparse dinner, Eragon worked up to courage to ask what had been on his mind since they fled the city.

"How did they find us?" he asked bluntly.

"One of the palace servants warned me there were spies among them. Somehow word of me and my questions must have reached Tábor,,, and through him, the Ra'zac."

"We can't go back to Dras-Leona, can we?" Eragon asked. Yuna reached out from her seat at the fire, smacking the back of his head.

"Idiot," she scolded. "We were lucky to get out with our lives, and you want to go back? You want to risk your life, Saphira, Arget, Brom's life, my life, and Arya's freedom?"

Brom looked up, questions in his eyes.

"Where did she go?"

Yuna's eyes searched the camp, growing wide with panic as the elf was nowhere to be found. Yuna's eyes darted to Arget and he blinked.

She wished me to tell you that she was going to send a message to the elves, Arget explained. Yuna nodded before relaying the information to Brom and Eragon.

"Where did she come from, anyway?" Eragon asked. "The elves disappeared years ago, when Galbatorix got control."

"That is true, but also false," Brom said, shaking his head. "The elves did take to the shadows, but Arya was sympathetic to the Varden's cause. After Jeod and I stole Saphira's egg from Gil'ead, it was entrusted to her. It was she who made the pilgrimage between the Varden and the elven cities."

"Weeks ago, I had a vision of her," Yuna said after a pause. "She was being held captive in Gil'ead and tortured for the location of Ellesméra, the elven capitol. She was the reason I left. Arget and I made our way to Gil'ead, where I got a job in the kitchens. I broke her out a little over a week ago, and we were traveling to the Varden before deciding to try to intercept you on your way to Dras-Leona."

"This is not the time to discuss it. Right now we have to concentrate on staying alive. Tonight will be the most dangerous because the Ra'zac will be hunting us in the dark, when they are strongest. We'll have to trade watches until morning."

"Right," Eragon said, getting to his feet. Yuna stood as well.

"I'm going to find Arya," she said. She nodded to Brom before drawing Ilianar, just in case. With her sword in hand, she crept into the shadows in the direction Arget nodded.

Yuna walked through the darkness warily, her path illuminated dully by the light of the moon. She glanced briefly into the stars before continuing on her way.

She heard a voice, low and speaking in an unknown tongue, and paused, lifting her sword. The blackened metal flashed briefly in the light, and her eyes saw a flicker of motion.

Yuna's eyes widened slightly as a brief hiss of wind sounded around her. She ducked and felt something graze her scalp.

There was another rush of wind, a dull hiss, and pain shot down her spine.

A wordless cry escaped her lips as Yuna fell to the rocky soil, her vision blurring to black.

Just before she passed out, a distant roar filled her ears.

Arget...

Chapter Text

Yuna glared up at the Ra'zac as he secured a muzzle over Arget's head.

"The king will be mossst interested to hear of a second rider," the first said, his voice sending chills down Yuna's spine and raised goose bumps on her arms. Eragon stirred beside her, wincing as his eyes filled with the light of the bright lantern that illuminated the camp.

"The drug is working, yesss?" the Ra'zac hissed mockingly, his voice a laugh. "I think you will not be bothering us again."

Once again, Yuna tried to reach for Arget, but the silver dragon's mind was distant and her own mind was muddled by the magic inhibitors she'd been drugged with.

The Ra'zac began to rummage through their bags, examining a number of items before stopping on Zar'roc.

"What a pretty thing for one so... insignificant. Maybe I will keep it," the Ra'zac sneered. "Or maybe, if you behave, our master will let you polish it."

He turned the red blade in his hands. A screech escaped his beaked face and he dropped the scabbard as if he'd been burned by the symbol on the redden metal, the personal crest of the rider for whom it was forged. The second Ra'zac rushed over and they stood over the sword, hissing and clicking in their alien language. At last they turned to face Eragon.

"You will serve our master well, yesss."

"If I do, I will kill you," Eragon said, his voice thick. Yuna forced herself to grin.

"You are in over your heads," she ground out.

"I think not," one of the Ra'zac chuckled coldly. "We are too valuable. But you... you are disposable."

Both Arget and Saphira growled loudly. Smoke rolled from Saphira's nostrils and Arget curled his lip back, snarling at the two cloaked figures.

Brom groaned, rolling onto his side. One of the Ra'zac grabbed his shirt and lifted his effortlessly into the air.

"It'sss wearing off," he commented.

"Give him more."

"Let'sss just kill him," the shorter Ra'zac said, looking at the man in his grip with contempt. "He has caused us much grief."

"A good plan," the other said in a low voice, one of his fingers trailing the length of his sword. "But remember, the king's instructions were to keep them alive."

"We can sssay he was killed when we captured them."

"And what of the othersss? If they talk?" the Ra'zac closer to the bound riders said, prodding Eragon with the tip of his sword. His companion laughed, drawing a wicked dagger.

"They would not dare."

There was a long silence as the Ra'zac weighed their options. After what felt like hours, but may have been mere seconds, the taller Ra'zac gave his consent.

They dragged Brom to the center of the camp and shoved him onto his knees. Brom sagged to one side and growing fear and apprehension filled Eragon and Yuna.

Eragon struggled against his ropes and the taller Ra'zac poked at him once more with the tip of his sword.

"None of that now," he said icily.

Yuna closed her eyes, remembering her lessons from the Winding Circle.

She reached out to the fire. Her magical sense was still impaired, but contacting the fire was instinctual. She felt the warm embrace of the flames on her mind and grinned. The tall Ra'zac shifted uneasily, sniffing the air.

The other Ra'zac growled loudly, yanking Brom's head back and baring his throat. The dagger in the creature's hand began an arc towards the old man's exposed throat, but Yuna forced the flames to jump up.

The fire obeyed, leaping to the Ra'zac's cloak and eating away at the dark material hungrily. The creature howled in alarm and pain.

There was a low buzz in the air, a soft rush of air, and an arrow sprouted out from the other Ra'zac's shoulder. The other dropped to the floor, avoiding an arrow and attempting to douse the flames. Yuna would not let them die, however, and they continued to thrive.

With a wild cry, the Ra'zac fled the camp, kicking Eragon viciously in the side as he did so. Yuna forced the fire to jump to the second Ra'zac and he snarled in pain and rage, collecting the dagger from the floor.

Yuna forced her body to operate even though she was bound. She kicked her legs out just as the Ra'zac launched the dagger at Eragon.

It was too late.

The Ra'zac stumbled but caught himself before he fell and, without hesitation, followed his companion to the road.

The dagger flew through the air, launched at the young rider. A strange light burned in Brom's eyes. Without hesitation, he threw himself into the dagger's path, his mouth open in a soundless snarl. The dagger sunk into his side with a soft thump and he landed heavily on his shoulder. His head lolled loosely.

"No!" Eragon and Yuna screamed in unison.

Eragon doubled over in pain as Yuna crawled to Brom's side. His vision clouded over as a figure moved in the darkness.

Yuna glared up at the newcomer, her eyes narrowed protectively before widening slightly in surprise. The stranger was a man, dressed in travel-worn clothes, that exuded a clam and assured air. He held a strung bow in his hand, another arrow at the ready. Yuna recognized the fletching as the same from the arrows that had struck the Ra'zac.

A wary caution rose in Yuna and she wrestled her arms in front of her, forcing her hand to her boot. She found her dagger and sawed through her ropes.

"Why did you help?" she asked coldly, still working on her bindings. The stranger knelt, placing his bow on the ground and raising his hands reassuringly.

"I'm not going to do anything," he said.

"Who are you?" she asked, finally freeing herself of the ropes. "Why did you help us?"

"Murtagh," the man nodded. "You aren't the only enemies the Ra'zac have. I was tracking them."

"Well, Murtagh," Yuna said, her voice short and careful, "stay over there and don't do anything."

Yuna narrowed her eyes at Murtagh and he shrugged, walking backwards toward the corner she had gestured to. Content, Yuna rushed to Brom's side.

She took out her dagger once more, slitting open the sides of Brom's robe. The dagger was still imbedded in his side, buried into his ribcage. An alarming length of the dagger was digging into flesh.

Arget, I'm going to need your help, Yuna said, looking up at the silver dragon with distress in her green eyes.

My strength is yours', he said, nodding his assent.

Yuna forced herself to remember the words of healing Brom had taught her after she had asked, stripping her right hand of its glove. The skin shone silver in the light of the lantern and she rested her hand gently around the injury, the dagger protruding from between her thumb and index finger.

She took up a chant of words of powerful, feeling the magic sap her strength as she carefully withdrew the dagger with her left hand, trying not to damage Brom further. Her right palm grew brighter and brighter, the magic itching at her skin, as the damage began to heal itself.

When she was done, she swayed with fatigue, her eyes fluttering closed briefly. She forced herself to stay awake, however, as she studied the pale scar that had remained.

"Is he completely healed?" Murtagh asked. Yuna whirled around, the dagger still in her hand. She was startled to find that he had gotten so close without her knowledge. Even so, she stopped her arm before the dagger buried itself in his calf.

"Don't sneak up on me like that," she scolded breathlessly. She then glanced back at Brom. "I've done all I can. There was a lot of damage and a limit to what I know. He should live, but I can't be certain."

Yuna stood and walked to the lantern, examining the dagger the Ra'zac had stabbed him with. She twisted it in the light, ignoring the scarlet still splashed onto it.

"I don't think there was any Seithr oil on the blade," she murmured, half to herself. She studied the blade for another moment before nausea rose up inside her, forcing her to throw the dagger into the trees in disgust.

Yuna turned away from the lantern and walked to Arget and Saphira to begin unchaining them. When she was finished, she went to examine Eragon.

She knelt beside him, brushing his forehead briefly. There was dried blood along the side of his face, but she did not think it was anything serious.

He groaned in pain, his breathing was shallow. Yuna carefully pushed down on his shoulder as he tried to get up. She smiled sadly.

"Easy there... This is similar to how we met, remember?" she said softly. Eragon cracked a smile and laughed briefly before wincing. "You were kicked pretty hard; let me see."

"No, Brom-"

"Is already tended to," Yuna interrupted patiently. "Murtagh, can you help me with his shirt?"

Murtagh nodded, stepping forward. Eragon eyed him warily, but did not argue.

"Ouch!" Murtagh whistled.

"Ouch," Eragon agreed weakly. His left side was dyed dark blues and purples splotched with red. The bruised skin was broken in several places. Murtagh placed a hand on the abused skin, pressing gently. Eragon yelled in pain and Saphira growled a warning.

"I think you have some broken ribs," Murtagh assessed, glancing between Saphira and Yuna. Yuna studied the bruised skin thoughtfully. "At least two, maybe more. You're lucky you're not coughing up blood."

"Yeah, lucky," Eragon grumbled. He made to put his shirt back on, but Yuna stopped him.

"I might be able to help... If I have the energy..." Yuna murmured, glancing briefly at Murtagh. "I'll need something to eat if I try."

"I'll make soup," Murtagh volunteered.

Yuna took a deep breath, glancing at Arget and Saphira.

"Can you help?"

I will always, Arget promised. Saphira nodded wordlessly.

Their minds joined with hers, and Yuna felt a new and alien strength in her body. She took another deep breath, drawing on the power as she focused it to her right hand, hovering carefully over the bruised skin.

Her chant resumed, the words falling from her lips carefully and easily. As she wove the magic, the bruises began to lighten, disappearing in places. Eragon's breathing grew steadier and deeper. The swelling across his ribcage went down and the abrasions healed to reveal smooth skin.

When Yuna was satisfied, she released the spell, falling back in exhaustion. She leaned forward, bracing herself with her arms as she breathed deeply.

"Are you alright?" Eragon asked anxiously. Yuna nodded tiredly, slowing her breathing.

"How do you feel?" she asked intently, looking at him carefully. Eragon glanced down at his side before stretching carefully. After a moment, he stretched more strenuously and a satisfied grin grew on his face.

"Great... How is Brom?"

Yuna led the other rider to Brom's side. While Yuna had been freeing Saphira and Arget from their bonds, Murtagh had carefully moved the old man onto a bed of blankets.

Eragon examined Brom's side, looking at the pale scar with a touch of incredulity. Seeing his startled expression, Yuna smiled dryly.

"He should live, but it's up to him, I think," she commented.

There was a rustling in the brush and Yuna whirled around, drawing a dagger. She breathed a sigh of relief when Arya stepped out of the trees.

"Where the hell have you been?" she reproached angrily. Arya raised an eyebrow before glancing around the camp. "Contacting the elves...- We were attacked and drugged!"

"And Queen Islanzadí has promised to send a dozen of her best spellcasters to protect you and Eragon and to aid the Varden," Arya interrupted. Yuna saw a coldness in her eyes smother a brief relieved light. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine. Brom was stabbed between the ribs, and I did what I could. Eragon broke a few ribs, but I think I healed most of it," Yuna reported, her eyes darting to the ground.

Arya moved to examine Brom and, when she moved away, looked satisfied.

"You did well for the amount of training you had. Brom would be proud."

"I'll believe that when he wakes up," Yuna said evenly. Arya moved to Eragon and he wordlessly lifted his shirt. Arya tapped his ribcage, noting when Eragon winced. She pulled away after a minute, and Eragon dropped his shirt.

"Who are you?" she asked Murtagh, her voice adopting its usual aloof coldness. Murtagh paused, his eyes widening slightly as her hair shifted away from her ears.

"You're an elf!" he said in shock, taking half a step back. Yuna rolled her eyes and a smile pulled at Arya's lips.

"Yes, she is," Yuna chuckled. "This is Murtagh. He helped me chase the Ra'zac away. Speaking of which, we need to get out of here before the Ra'zac return. They weren't badly wounded, which means they'll be back with fifty soldiers."

"You may be well enough to travel, but I doubt that he is," Murtagh said, gesturing towards Brom. "You don't get up and ride away after being stabbed between the ribs."

"Much of the internal damage has been healed," Arya commented. There was a slight growl from Arget and he nodded towards the saddle still strapped to his back. Yuna smiled appreciatively.

Great idea. If you don't land too roughly, I'm sure he'll be fine, Yuna nodded. Arget smiled toothily. With help, Yuna lifted Brom into the saddle, strapping his legs in so he wouldn't fall if he awoke.

"Alright, now that that's taken care of... Eragon, are you well enough to ride?" Yuna asked. Eragon hoisted himself onto Cadoc with a nod.

I can carry the elf as well, Arget said. Yuna's brow furrowed.

You're already carrying Brom. I don't want to strain you.

It is no problem. I am no longer a hatchling, Arget reminded his rider. Yuna nodded reluctantly and relayed Arget's offer. Arya jumped to his back after a polite nod.

With that, Yuna pulled herself onto Snowfire's back and looked back at Murtagh.

"You may stay or go your own way. Just know that the king will be even more desperate to capture us. He did not know of Arget before tonight, and I can promise that he'll be very interested in catching us."

"You aren't well enough to defend yourself if the Ra'zac return," Murtagh decided, fingering the hilt of his sword. "Besides, if I stay with you, I might get another shot at the Ra'zac sooner than if I were on my own. Interesting things are bound to happen around a rider, and there are two of you."

"Join us if you wish," Eragon said, shrugging.

Murtagh mounted his gray war-horse and nodded. Yuna glanced briefly at Eragon before continuing into the wilderness.

They rode through the night until Arget contacted Yuna, unable to continue flying with Arya and Brom.

I must stop. My wings grow tired and Brom needs attention. Saphira discovered a good place to stay, about two miles ahead of where you are.

The three eventually stopped before a broad sandstone formation. Its sides were pockmarked with caves of varying size. Arya was waiting for them at the base of the rock formation.

"Saphira found a cave larger enough for all of us that cannot be seen from the ground," she said before leading them through the rough paths of sandstone into a large cavern.

The cave itself was a good hundred feet long and more than twenty feet across but had a small opening that protected the group from prying eyes and the elements. Darkness occupied the far wall, clinging to the walls.

"Impressive," Murtagh commented. "I'll gather wood for a fire."

Yuna and Eragon nodded before hurrying to Brom's side. Arya had set him on a small rock ledge near the rear of the cave. He lay on the padding of a number of blankets. Even with Yuna's healing, he did not look well. His wizened face was pale and his skin hung loosely off of his skeleton, casting shadows on his sunken eyes.

Needless to say, the group was worried.

When they awoke the next morning, it was to a violent chaos.

Brom was seizing.

Yuna knew instinctively that he would not make it to the next sunrise.

Eragon and Murtagh restrained the surprisingly strong man until his convulsions ceased and returned him to the stone ledge.

Concerned, Yuna brushed her hand to his forehead, only to be startled by his painfully high fever. She swore under her breath and dampened a rag, laying it over his overly hot skin.

The cave quieted for a moment in which Yuna noted that the sun had risen well into the sky. She also noted that Arya had disappeared once more. She pushed that out of her mind, however, when Brom suddenly gasped awake.

"You!" he said breathlessly, staring at Eragon with unfocused eyes. "Bring me the wineskin!"

"Brom?" Eragon exclaimed. Yuna stood from her spot beside the old man. "You shouldn't drink wine; it'll only make you worse."

"Bring it, boy- just bring it..." Brom's hand slipped off of Eragon's shoulder. Yuna held the wineskin out for Brom to see.

"I have it, Brom," she said in a somber voice.

"Good..." he murmured indistinctly. "Now... wash my right hand with it."

"What-" Eragon started to ask.

"No questions! I haven't the time!"

Eragon obeyed, pouring the liquid into Brom's hand. He rubbed it into the old man's skin, spreading it around the fingers and over the back of the hand.

"More," Brom croaked.

Eragon splashed wine onto his hand again. He scrubbed vigorously as a brown dye floated off Brom's hand. When the dye was gone, Yuna and Eragon inhaled sharply with surprise.

There, shining in the dull light, was a gedwëy ignasia.

"You're a rider?" Eragon asked incredulously. A pained smile crossed Brom's face.

"Once upon a time that was true... but no more. When I was young... younger than either of you are now, I was chosen... chosen by the riders to join their ranks. While they trained me, I became friends with another apprentice... Morzan, before he was a Forsworn." Eragon gasped in shock. "But then he betrayed us to Galbatorix... and in the fighting at Doru Araeba- Vroengard's city- my young dragon was killed. Her name... was Saphira."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" Eragon asked softly. Brom only laughed.

"Because... there was no need to." His breathing grew labored; his hands clenched. "I am old... so old. Though my dragon was killed, my life has been longer than most. You don't know what it is to reach my age, look back, and realize that many years still lie ahead of you... After all this time I still grieve for my Saphira... and hate Galbatorix for what he tore from me."

His eyes bored into Eragon and Yuna.

"Don't let that happen to you. Don't! Guard Saphira and Arget with your lives, for without them it's hardly worth living."

"You shouldn't talk like this. Nothing's going to happen to her," Eragon said, his voice worried. Yuna put a comforting hand on Brom's shoulder.

"Perhaps I am rambling..." His voice grew strong and his eyes sharpened on Eragon. "I cannot last much longer. This... this is a grievous wound; it saps my strength. I have not the energy to fight it... Before I go, will you take my blessing?"

"Everything will be all right," Eragon said, his eyes blurring with tears. "You don't have to do this."

Yuna placed a hand on his shoulder as well.

"Let him."

"She's right; it is the way of things... I must. Will you take my blessing?"

Eragon bowed his head, overcome, but nodded his assent. Brom placed a trembling hand on his brow.

"Then I give it to you. May the coming years bring you great happiness." Brom motioned for Eragon to come closer. When he did, the old man whispered seven words from the ancient language, then translated the words even more softly. "That is all I can give you... Use them only in great need."

Brom's eyes found Yuna and a tired smile found its way to his lips.

"Do not blame yourself, girl. It was only through your work that I have been strong enough to speak... I am proud of you as well. Never forget that... If I had a daughter, I imagine she would have been something like you..."

The weight of the remark brought tears to Yuna's eyes as she smiled sadly. She took Brom's other hand, the other held by Eragon. Brom lifted his hand with much effort, drawing Yuna closer. She leaned forward obligingly.

"Tell Arget that it is time... He will understand," Brom said weakly. Yuna glanced at the silver dragon briefly, who bowed his head gently. Yuna looked back at Brom, nodding. His eyes glazed over and he stared blindly to the ceiling. "And now... for the greatest adventure of all..."

The two held his hands, keeping a steadfast vigil as Brom's strength faded away. They did not move from his side, ignoring the minor discomforts that came with the growing hours. As time passed, a gray pallor crept onto Brom's tanned skin, casting an unhealthy glow about him. His eyes grew dim and watery, the color ebbing away. His hands grew icy; the air around him adopted an unhealthy stillness. Even so, Yuna and Eragon were powerless to help, only able to watch as the wound took its toll.

The night drew long, and dawn was soon approaching when Brom suddenly stiffened. Yuna broke down, weeping unashamedly as Eragon called Brom's name and for Murtagh to help. They still could do nothing.

Brom's clouded eyes focused on Eragon's face as the young rider stared at him helplessly. Contentment spread across the old man's face in a gentle smile. A whisper of breath escaped his lips. His eyes closed.

And Brom passed into the void, finally at rest and ready to see his Saphira once again.

Chapter Text

Lost in a blur of grief, Yuna soon awoke to find herself sitting alone, her eyes staring blankly at the cave's far wall.

The top of the hill, Arget murmured in her mind as she looked about the cave, rubbing at her reddened eyes. Yuna acknowledged her companion and climbed to the crown of the smoothened hill.

There, standing in the center of the hill, Eragon was shaping the sandstone. Murtagh stood nearby. At his feet was Brom's still form. The dragons maintained a sharp vigil over the burial. Yuna watched as the stone rippled before flowing downward at Eragon's bidding, carving a body-length depression before lifting waist-high walls around it.

She stepped forward as Eragon and Murtagh carefully lifted Brom up, carrying him to his final resting place. Yuna stopped at the unfinished vault and, before tears could blur her vision again, planted a gentle kiss on the old man's forehead. Sadden but content with her sendoff, Yuna stepped back and allowed Eragon to complete the stone grave. The stone flowed obediently, joining over the storyteller before flowing upward into a tall faceted spire. Eragon placed his hand onto the spire, murmuring under his breath.

When his hand moved away, runes were carved neatly into the sandstone.

Here Lies Brom

Who was a Dragon Rider

And like a father

To me.

May his name live on in glory.

Standing in silence, the vigil lasted late into the evening, each mourning the loss.

Arya returned at some point in the day and paid her respects silently. Yuna felt anger grow at her smooth expression, but it faded away at once when she glimpsed Arya as she walked away. A single tear was rolling down the elf's face.

The group returned to the cave, but none slept well.

Yuna awoke early in the morning and began to plan their next move. Mourning would not bring Brom back, she knew, and he would not want them to be caught unawares on his behalf. The only solution was to move as soon as possible. The Ra'zac would be pursuing them once again, not to mention the soldiers they would invariably bring with them. Not to mention that Arya had spoken of a Shade that had presided over her torture. He may be on their trail as well.

Murtagh went hunting, soon followed by Saphira and Arget. They were still growing and it had been days since their last meal.

Eragon still slept, but Yuna let him. He had grown up, familiar with Brom's presence. Losing the old man would be especially hard on him.

"Our only thing to do is go to the Varden," Yuna said, frowning slightly as she studied the map. "Going to Du Weldenvarden would mean coming awfully close to Urû'baen, or any number of towns near it. We could attempt to get to Surda, but we cannot stay there long."

"The Varden would shelter you, but they will want allegiances that you may not be prepared to promise," Arya warned. Yuna shook her head.

"Eragon and I have already set our minds to join them one day. Our fear is that our fight will never end."

"Then you will simply have to end it," Arya said, leaning back slightly. Yuna sighed quietly.

"I'm aware that this war will have to end one way or the other. I just worry about what we may lose in the process." Yuna's eyes darted to Eragon's sleeping form and a slight smile grew on Arya's face.

"Does he know of your infatuation?" she said teasingly. Yuna blushed, but scowled.

"I am not infatuated. I care for him, though. He was the first person I met in this land. Which, for some reason, was your fault," Yuna pointed out. Arya's face darkened slightly and Yuna backtracked. "Not that you should have let Durza have Saphira's egg. That would have been-"

"I understand," Arya nodded briefly. "Have you decided?"

Yuna paused for a moment at the sudden change in topic, but adapted quickly, looking back at the map.

"Our only course of action seems to go to the Varden. But I still worry about what they might expect. Eragon and I have not finished our training. I was barely past tuatha du orothrim, and, when I left the group, Eragon was over a week behind me. Brom worried that we might not be ready for everything that might be thrown at us and I'm starting to see why."

"The leader of the Varden is a fair man," Arya said slowly. "A fierce warrior, of course, but also excellent at judging his assets. You and Eragon are indeed assets in this war. You will change the fate of Alagaësia, that is certain. You need not worry about him asking you to complete a task he does not believe you can accomplish. His advisors, however, may not be as cautious."

"What of the elves? You said that you spoke with Queen Islanzadí. What if Eragon and I only stop at the Varden to ensure them of our future... cooperation, and then continue to Du Weldenvarden to finish our training?"

Arya thought for a long moment before shaking her head slowly.

"You underestimate the delicacies of politics," she said after a moment. "Ajihad, the leader of the Varden, will not be content with a simple assurance. Much can happen during your training. For all Ajihad knows, your teachers could be convincing you of the king's innocence in this war."

"But that's ridiculous!"

"But he will have no guarantee that we will not skew your mentality. Much can change in a short amount of time."

"... So he'll want us to pledge our fealty?"

"Most likely, and in the ancient language," Arya nodded. Yuna sighed in exasperation before taking a deep breath.

"By the end of this war, Eragon and I will be bound to every species in Alagaësia," she murmured, shaking her head. "I don't doubt that there will be vows regarding our training with the elves. Seeking shelter and allying ourselves to the Varden means a pact with both humans and dwarves. What is next, urgals?"

Arya smiled wryly.

"I doubt that anyone will force you to fight alongside an urgal."

"I hope not, for their sake," Yuna said, shaking her head. She glanced back at Eragon, hearing him stir. "Good, you are awake."

"How long have I slept?"

"Long enough, I hope. We will leave tomorrow if you are well enough to travel," Yuna said gently. Eragon sat up, looking at the two. His eyes noted the map rolled out before them and he nodded once.

"Where are we going?" he asked carefully.

"The Varden," Yuna said. She heard movement at the mouth of the cave and turned to see Murtagh return, his hands occupied by a pair of rabbits. "Do you want to accompany us to the Varden? The king will be after you, especially after you've been seen with us."

Murtagh shook his head, sitting down roughly beside Yuna.

"Well, depending on our course, we go reasonably close to Surda," Yuna said, tracing a rough path on the map with her fingernail. Murtagh glanced back at Eragon before nodding. Yuna noted the caution in his eyes but ignored it.

"How are you?" Murtagh asked to Eragon.

"Very ill," was the quiet reply. Murtagh studied Eragon carefully.

"Will you recover?" Eragon merely shrugged. Silence fell for a few minutes before Murtagh worked up the courage to ask, "Is your Brom the Brom? The one who helped steal a dragon egg from the king, chased it across the Empire, and killed Morzan in a duel? I heard you say his name, and I read the inscription you put on his grave, but I must know for certain. Was that he?"

"It was," Eragon said softly. "How do you know all that? You talk about things that are secret to most, and you were trailing the Ra'zac right when we needed help. Are you one of the Varden?"

Yuna rolled her eyes.

"If he were one of the Varden, he would not be going with us only as far as Surda," she pointed out. Murtagh nodded, a sadness in his eyes.

"I am running away, like you. I do not belong to either the Varden or the Empire. Nor do I owe allegiance to any man but myself. As for my rescuing you, I will admit that I've heard whispered tales of a new rider and reasoned that by following the Ra'zac I might discover if they were true."

"I thought you wanted to kill the Ra'zac."

"I do, but if I had, I never would have met you."

Eragon fell silent and Yuna rolled up the map. An awkward silence fell over the camp, smothering any hope for conversation. Each person busied themselves with various tasks around the camp: Murtagh cleaned the rabbits; Yuna tidied the group's belongings, helped by Arya; Eragon rummaged around in his bags, eventually uncovering Zar'roc.

Yuna watched Eragon carefully as he shuddered slightly, turning the sword over in his hands. He pulled his bow off of his back and belted Zar'roc to his hip.

Yuna did not comment, returning once again to sorting out Brom's few belongings. She secured the small purse, clinking quietly with the coins held within, to her belt. Odds and ends, all of which having some practical meaning, were stored away in Snowfire's saddlebags. Since Kiirai had been left in Teirm, Snowfire was left to Yuna's care.

When all was settled, the group convened once more at the fire. Once Eragon was crouched beside Murtagh, the mysterious man studied Zar'roc.

"That sword. May I see it?" he asked, wiping his hands clean of the rabbits' innards. Eragon hesitated for a moment, but soon relinquished the weapon to the other man. Murtagh examined the symbol on the blade for a moment and his face darkened with something not unlike disgust.

"Where did you get this?" he asked.

"Brom gave it to me. Why?"

Murtagh shoved the sword into Eragon's grip, crossing his arms angrily. His breathing was uneven and deep as he stared into the fire, his eyes brimming with an unspeakable anger.

"That sword," he said after a brief pause, his voice rough with emotion, "was once as well known as its owner. The last rider to carry it was Morzan- a brutal, savage man. I thought you were a foe of the Empire, yet I find you bearing one of the Forsworn's bloody swords!"

Eragon and Yuna stared at the red blade with shock. Brom had not, after all, told them of the sword's origin, nor its bloody past.

Brom must have taken it from Morzan's corpse after they fought in Gil'ead! Yuna murmured to Arget. The silver dragon nodded his head.

"Brom never told me where it came from," Eragon said truthfully. "I had no idea it was Morzan's."

"He never told you?" Murtagh's disbelief was clear. "That's strange. I can think of no reason for him to have concealed it."

"Neither can I. But then, he kept many secrets," Eragon said softly. His eyes hardened with revulsion as he stared at the red blade. "Even so, I'm going to carry it. I don't have a sword of my own. Until such time as I get one, I'll use Zar'roc."

Murtagh flinched as Eragon said the name and, not for the first time, Yuna wondered how twisted the rider who had carried it, now identified as Morzan, must have been to give his blade such a bloody name.

"It's your choice," Murtagh said neutrally, returning to cleaning the rabbits. Yuna looked at the blade with a morbid curiosity.

"May I?" she asked, extending her hand to the hilt. Eragon nodded, passing the crimson blade to the other rider. Yuna grasped the hand-and-a-half hilt in her hand, her lips twisting into a grimace at the heaviness of the sword.

She unsheathed the blade and concentrated on the metal, studying it for a moment. When her inspection was finished, he face was ashen. She passed the blade back to Eragon, who was unable to ignore that her hand was shaking slightly.

"I don't care if I have to forge it myself- you are not keeping that blade," she swore, staring into Eragon's eyes. "That metal is nothing like I've ever seen, purer and stronger than anything I've worked with it, but its drenched by pain and death. Misery. It's fitting," she said, shaking her head at the red blade. Eragon looked a little overwhelmed but shook his head.

"Until I get a new blade, I'll have to use it," he repeated, his voice now tainted by a sad anger. Yuna only nodded.

The meal was eaten in a comfortable silence, only broken by the sounds of the group eating. After cleaning out their bowls, Yuna put the bowls away silently before returning to the fireside.

"So... I guess we'll leave tomorrow," Yuna said in a soft voice. "If we skirt Furnost, we can go alongside Tüdosten all the way to Surda before making our way into the mountains."

"Sounds like a plan," Murtagh agreed, his voice tired but content as he leaned back against the cave wall. Yuna's lips quirked into a smile as she turned to Arya.

"Do you want to spar?"

"Are you well enough?" Arya asked, a concerned tint edging her voice. Yuna nodded once and Arya rose to her feet. Yuna stood as well, fetching Ilianar from her belongings.

"You're going to spar with sharpened blades?" Murtagh asked worriedly. Yuna flashed a smile, guarding her blade with magic and holding out the edge for him to feel.

"Magic," she explained with a wink. She turned her head to face Arya, only to discover that the elf had begun her assault.

Clang!

There was a brief shower of sparks as Yuna parried the blow. She swore under her breath as her right arm began shaking from the block. She shifted her blade to her left hand, entering a complex series of forms in an attempt to catch the elf unawares.

Even amidst the ducking and weaving Yuna was performing, Arya was always two steps ahead of the young rider, leaving bruises in her wake. Yuna continued to fight viciously, ignoring the wide-eyed looks coming from Eragon and Murtagh.

"Enough," Arya said after nearly forty minutes of sparring. "If you continue, you will be too tired when we leave."

"Good point," Yuna agreed painfully, holding her now-bruised ribs. She gingerly lifted her shirt to show her reddened side. "Ouch."

"You will learn," Arya nodded, no apology in her eyes or voice. Yuna was glad the elf had not softened her blows, at least not by much. A learn-or-die approach was generally successful when it came to learning swordplay. Yuna looked up at the young men and rolled their eyes as they carefully averted their eyes from her exposed side.

"Murtagh, you'll have to show me what you can do tomorrow night," Yuna said with a smile. Murtagh's eyes grew carefully wary and Yuna rolled her eyes. "If you're going to say no, please come up with a reason other than that I'm female."

"Elves train both their men and women to fight. I've never understood man's need to train their women into running away whenever there is danger," Arya said, shaking her head.

"It just doesn't make sense," Yuna agreed. "But it does work to my advantage. Even in Dras-Leona, the soldiers who attacked me at the cathedral didn't want to fight me."

"And you fought them? I never heard the rest of that story," Eragon recalled. Yuna nodded slowly.

"There isn't much to tell. I put three of them to sleep and told the men to surrender and let me leave peaceably, but they didn't agree. One of the men broke ranks and ran. I put another four to sleep. The spell took more out of me than I had anticipated, so the last five came forward while I caught my breath. I stabbed one of them in the side. Another tried to knock me down so I put an arrow in his chest. One of the men snuck up behind me and made me drop my sword, but I broke his nose and made him let me go. After that, the others left."

"The two... Were they killed?" Eragon asked after a long pause, his voice rough. Yuna nodded sadly.

"They were already gone by the time the others had fled. There was nothing I could do to prevent it."

And nor should you have tried, Arget asked, snarling quietly. If they dare to attack, then let them fall under your blade.

"What is it?" Murtagh asked, glancing back at Arget. Yuna repeated her companions words. Yuna noted a grimace grow on Eragon's face as Saphira growled in agreement.

"Don't look at me like that, Eragon," Yuna said coolly, crossing her arms over her chest. "You would have reacted much the same, I think. If you hadn't, Saphira would have had to tear them apart in vengeance."

There was another growl of approval and Yuna sighed tiredly.

"I'm going to go to sleep. Wake me to change watch," she said, retreating to the side of the cave.

The next morning, the group set off to leave, as promised. Before departing, however, Yuna and Eragon ascended to pay their final respects to Brom. When they arrived at the crest of the sandstone hill, they discovered Saphira and Arget, already there. The four stood together at the sandstone crypt in a gentle silence.

When they finally turned to leave, Arget and Saphira snaked their long necks out to touch the rough stone. A low humming filled the air as the scales on each dragons' nose made contact with the rough rock.

Yuna was about to ask what they were doing, but was cut short as she watched the stone in wonder. The sandstone around the dragons' noses rippled in the sunlight, sending out tendrils of white diamond over the sandstone's face in a delicate network of veins. The veins sunk, draining the stone of all color until it was almost perfectly clear dyed with all colors of the spectrum. Splashes of light danced away from the now diamond crypt, illuminated the ground.

With a satisfied snort, Saphira and Arget backed away to admire their work.

The once basic tomb had been transformed. Where once was sandstone was now a radiant gemstone, unmarred by tool marks or impurities. At Brom's head, the gemstone was clear, leaving his face untouched. Under the rock, he appeared to be only sleeping.

"What did you do?" Eragon asked, his voice awestruck. Saphira and Arget nodded, a faint rumbling in their chests.

This is the only gift we could give, Arget murmured to both riders.

Now time will not ravage him. He can rest in peace for eternity, Saphira finished.

Thank you, the two riders said in unison, their voices soft but full of emotion. Yuna blinked away tears, a gentle smile growing on her face as she said goodbye to her second father.

Chapter Text

When the hills of sandstone were out of sight, Yuna focused her mind up, to where Arget was soaring through the sky. She and Eragon were traveling by horse to keep Murtagh company while Arya was riding Arget.

We shall return, little one, Arget promised. Yuna nodded.

I know we will... Someday... she said, her voice drifting off as a new thought entered her mind. Arget... What did he mean, when he said that it is time?

Brom trusted me with many things, just as he did, I suspect, with Saphira. Some of which I cannot speak of unless necessary. His place as a rider was one of those secrets. I knew before we had left Carvahall, but he asked to not tell you. He said much the same to Saphira.

Did he tell you of Zar'roc's origins?

No, nor does it matter. You have said it yourself; Eragon will not wield that blade for the rest of his days. Whether you forge him one or he finds one to his liking on his own, that blade will not be in his possession for long.

I suppose that is true... Is there anything I should know now? At this point in time?

Arget hummed thoughtfully.

Nothing comes to mind, he said after a pause. Yuna nodded, knowing that she wouldn't get any more information until Arget decided it was needed.

Then I shall wait, she decided. How is Arya?

She enjoys flight almost as much as you do, Arget said, his mind radiating a grin.

Then she must love it very much, Yuna smiled.

I believe Eragon is trying to speak to you, Arget reported, a smug tint to his thoughts. Yuna jumped to attention, her eyes finding Eragon's face.

"Sorry, what?" she asked, a rosy light entering her cheeks. Eragon's lips pulled up in a smile.

"I said that, if we are going so close to Furnost, we should buy more supplies before heading south," he repeated. Yuna shook her head immediately.

"Not a chance. There will be posters out for each of our heads by now, even if they don't have my name. Walking into a major city is not what we need to be doing. No. We need to stick to the shadows as much as possible. I'm sure there is a small town on the way to Furnost that we can camp near so that Murtagh and I can get supplies."

"Why not me?" Eragon asked hotly. Yuna stared at him with an incredulous look.

"Are you kidding? The king is, at this point in time, interested in you most. He will have all of his men, from generals to footsoldiers, searching for your face. Also, as you might have noticed, you seem to attract danger."

"No more than you do," Eragon retorted. Yuna crossed her arms.

"And I always weasel my way out without getting myself hurt. You haven't been so lucky."

"So you were lucky when you nearly died in Yazuac?" Eragon shot back.

"That was not my fault!" Yuna shouted back angrily. "I wouldn't have resorted to using magic if you had managed to defend your own back! I think I was doing fine."

"Says the girl who took on an urgal without backup," Eragon reminded her. Yuna scowled.

"I'd say that that was the backup's fault, not mine. And I managed to defeat both of them! And you've never said thank you!"

"Thank you? Thank you for what? You don't know that I couldn't have helped. You were already charging in, knives blazing. Literally!"

"Will you two be quiet?" Murtagh groaned. Both grew silent at once, turning to glare at the man. "You are giving me a headache. And I don't get headaches."

"Well, I wouldn't-"

Yuna was silenced by a loud series of wing beats, soon followed by the appearance of both Arget and Saphira. Arya slid off of Arget's back and Yuna noted that her bow was drawn.

"What is it?" she asked, all bickering forgotten.

"Soldiers, less than three leagues away. It appears that they are heading to Furnost. I'd say three to four hundred strong," Arya said, her eyes narrowed slightly. Yuna frowned.

"Just our luck... See why we can't go into Furnost?" she asked, the question directed at Eragon. Eragon looked away, a grimace on his lips. Murtagh hummed thoughtfully.

"I suppose he is trying to send the army after us," he murmured.

"That," Arya began, "or he is launching a larger attack. Soldiers have been moving south for months now."

"Do you think he'll try to provoke the Varden?" Yuna said in a quiet voice.

"If he does, he is a fool. The Varden is well hidden and well fortified. Its location is kept secret to all but those who have sworn loyalty, in one form or another. Even if it were to be revealed, it could take weeks to even reach their place in the mountains."

"Even so..." Yuna murmured. "If he is planning an attack at the Varden, it is imperative that we get there as soon as possible."

"Agreed," Murtagh nodded. Yuna looked at him with amusement and he backtracked. "It is important that you get there as soon as possible."

"Are you sure-"

"No, the Varden will have to continue without me," Murtagh insisted. Yuna smiled despite herself.

"Okay... But only if you spar with me tonight," she grinned.

They continued traveling in this fashion. Days stretched into weeks as time passed with flying and riding. A large stretch of plains, dotted with the occasional pond or spring, led them to the lake Tüdosten. They angled north over Furnost, avoiding any and all soldiers in their path. When Furnost was behind them and the Tüdosten to their right, a forest grew to the east, separating them from the enormity of the Hadarac Desert.

Nights were passed in a familiar routine. Yuna would spar with either Arya or Murtagh, getting better with each fight. Once Eragon's ribs, which had still been bruised, were completely healed, he joined in on the spar. Arya would occasionally help their education in the ancient language, but she was reluctant to do so. As she put it, it was wrong of her to assume a role as teacher. Her defense was that there were more suitable teachers for the two riders, but she knew that she could not abandon their education.

During this time, she slowly began educating them in elven culture, beginning with the age-old greeting. She was quick to confirm that elves had mastered the art of misleading when they spoke. She warned them to be always polite if they encountered another elf. Needless to say, Yuna began to understand Brom's reluctance to let her or Eragon be sucked into the political world.

After a rather uneventful month, during which Eragon's sixteenth birthday had come and pass, the group prepared to say goodbye to Murtagh. They could not see him to the border, but left him near enough to Petrøvya, a Surdan city just inside the border, that they could bid him farewell without over-worrying. After all, as Eragon and Yuna discovered during their spars, Murtagh was an expert swordsman.

It was with the knowledge that Murtagh was no more in danger than they were did they eventually leave the lake's shore.

Less than a day after Murtagh had left did the Beors come into sight.

At first, they were just a line of forest covered mounds, topped with a colorless sky. As they approached, the fuzziness faded away and the two riders and dragons were left awestruck as they realized exactly what they were studying.

"There's no end to them!" Eragon murmured, shocked.

It has been long since I have felt small, but compared to them, I am but a hatchling, Arget said, sounding slightly uneasy. There was a worried concern to his thoughts and Yuna hummed comfortingly.

"Let's hope the animals that live there aren't proportionate to the size of the mountains," Yuna said in a side note to Eragon. Arya, hearing them, smirked. She was running alongside the horses, giving Arget a break, but the exercise was not evidenced in her steady breathing. She did not need to stop for breath, nor to rest.

"Some of them are," she said, a fierce grin gracing her lips.

"If only we didn't have the horses," Yuna murmured after a pause. "Then we could just fly. We'd arrive so much faster."

"We are making reasonable time," Arya commented neutrally. "From here, I estimate another three days until we reach the mountains themselves. It will take time, though. The distance to the Varden from here is nearly twice the distance from Gil'ead to Dras-Leona."

"... That's nearly two hundred and fifty leagues!" Yuna breathed after a brief pause in which she did the math. Arya simply nodded as Eragon's eyes widened in shock.

"We have time," Arya said in a smooth voice. "We will not be traveling through mountains for all that time. We will go north first, and enter into a plain that cuts into the mountain range. At the end of the plains in the Beartooth River, which we can follow nearly all the way to the Varden."

"How long do you think that will take?" Eragon asked, his voice tired. Arya looked at him appraisingly.

"If we continue at this pace, we shall reach the Varden within two months," she calculated. Eragon's mouth opened in shock.

"But that's-"

"We have time. If anything, it is good that we have so much time. Brom was right in keeping the two- well, the four of you away from the political dealings of this world," Arya said, correcting herself as she glanced upward, a small smile on her face. "There is much you must learn."

"If only we could go straight to Ellesméra," Yuna murmured. Arya shot a curious look towards the human and Yuna glanced at the ground before elaborating. "I understand the need for oaths and vows, but I don't want to swear anything at the moment. I mean, yes, I will fight against the Empire, but is that all that Arget and I are meant to do? What happens when the war is finished? What happens to Eragon and I, assuming we can overthrow Galbatorix without getting ourselves killed?"

"I cannot say, nor is it my place to assume your fate," Arya said evenly, her face neutral. "In any case, it is best that we live in a more immediate sense. We will worry about what you must do after the war once it has been won or lost."

The group fell into silence as the sun began to set. They made camp swiftly and efficiently, leaving plenty of time to spar and plan their next move.

Arya faced both Eragon and Yuna, taking after Brom's lesson plans. Needless to say, all three had bruises when they finally turned in for the night.

The weeks grew long as the group continued their trek. Each day Yuna and Eragon grew stronger, faster. Although they still failed to defeat Arya once, through skill or luck, their progress was clear in her proud half-smiles and nods of approval.

Chapter Text

When they were just a week and a half from the Varden, they caught sight of a group of horsemen watching their surroundings from atop a hilltop in the small group's direct path.

"Could they be Varden?" Eragon asked, resting his hand on Zar'roc's hilt warily. Arya narrowed her eyes and Yuna drew Ilianar, the black and silver metal glinting in the sunlight.

"No. We are still too far from Farthen Dûr to be seeing sentries. I do not know who these men are, but stay wary," Arya cautioned.

The elf slipped into the saddle behind Yuna, drawing her blade and resting it between her and Yuna. Yuna lowered her sword as well, resting it against the saddle. She also noted Arya shifting her hair so that her ears were covered.

"Stay relaxed. They may let us by without a fight," Arya murmured into Yuna's ear. Yuna nodded, guiding Snowfire forward. Eragon cut in front on Cadoc, giving it the appearance that he was protecting the two women.

"If there is a fight, we can win," Yuna murmured back, judging the twenty or so horsemen. It would be difficult, but all three were highly capable fighters. In any case, Arget and Saphira would be able to scare them away.

Arget, there are about twenty men down here. Don't show yourself yet, but stay close.

Saphira and I are ready for a confrontation, little one, he reassured her.

Snowfire and Cadoc continued forward, guided by their riders. The band of men watched them silently from the hill.

As they drew near to the group, the horseman in front, a man on a sorrel horse and bearing a mace, signaled to the men, sending them forward. The men shook javelins over their heads, shouting wordlessly as they neared the three. Each bore a rusted and stained weapon with a matching battered sheath. Four of the men wielded bows, aimed directly at the three fugitives.

The man on the sorrel horse swung his mace around his head once more and the others pushed their horses to surround Cadoc and Snowfire, brandishing their weapons as they continued their whooping and shouting.

Once both riders and elf were surrounded by the mysterious horsemen, the man on the sorrel horse reined in his mount, examining the three he had snared.

"Well, this one's better than the usual dregs we find!" he grinned darkly. Yuna noted that one of his teeth was very badly chipped. "And the women... Let's just say you'll be verypopular."

Yuna's hand tightened on her sword as a dull nausea grew in the pit of her stomach.

"We didn't even have to shoot laddie over there," the man continued jeeringly. "Grieg will be pleased... Now, if you would be so good as to drop your weapons, you'll avoid being turned into living quivers by my men."

The band laughed raucously. Yuna grit her teeth as Eragon found his voice.

"Who are you and what do you want? We are simply traveling through this land. You've no right to stop us."

"Oh, I have every right," the man grinned again. "And as for my name, slaves do not address their masters in that manner, unless they want to be beaten."

They're slavers! Yuna reported to Arget.

A distant roar of disgust and contempt echoed through the mountains, but the men paid it no heed.

"Throw down your weapons and surrender!" the man shouted again. When none of the three so much as shifted their weight, the man guided his horse towards Snowfire, leaving the man not two feet from Yuna and Arya. Yuna's face twisted into a scowl and the man reached out a hand. "Aww, don't be that way sweetheart. If you're a good girl, I might even-"

He was interrupted as Yuna raised her arm and swept out at him, catching the man in the nose with her elbow. The man held the reins as his horse skittered back, shouting profanities as a burst of blood began leaking from his nose.

"That bitch!" he roared. He moved his hand away from his nose, wiping off the blood as best he could with his gauntlet, and Yuna was proud to see his nose was now misshapen. She glared at him, her eyes shining with a smug victory.

"Torkenbrand, you alright, sir?" one of the men asked in a dazed voice.

"Fine," he growled back, tightening his grip on his mace. "It seems the bitch wants to play rough, huh? Well I happen to know a nice man in Dras-Leona that would be very interested in-"

There was a roar, now much closer, and the men all looked up in astonishment as Arget dropped from the sky, closely followed by Saphira. Both roared with anger and disgust, displaying their massive fangs.

The slavers, terrified for their lives, fell over each other in their rush to escape. In the mad dash for safety, Torkenbrand was struck by one of his men's javelin. The weapon connected with his temple, knocking his out of his saddle and onto the ground, stunned. The rest of the group ignored their fallen leader, racing away without remorse, shooting fearful glances at the still-growling dragons.

Yuna drew her dagger, aiming the dagger at the fallen slaver as he struggled to his knees. Eragon, catching sight of this, cried out.

"No!" he shouted. Yuna froze, glancing at Eragon.

"What?" she asked, her voice growing quiet. Eragon's eyes flashed with anger.

"We can leave him here. There's no need to kill him," Eragon argued. Yuna glanced back at Arya, but she sighed.

"He has no horse, no weapon, and is wounded. He will not survive long in these mountains," Arya said smoothly. Eragon's mouth opened to protest.

Torkenbrand fell to the ground, but Yuna was certain he was merely unconscious.

"It is better to end his life painlessly now, lest he starve to death. Or worse, lest he stumbled into the Empire's hands. We are already in danger enough."

"He's not even armed," Eragon said weakly. Arya fumed.

"He is hardly strong enough to kneel. What makes you believe that he would last any amount of time against you in a duel? Or Yuna? Either of you would be a fierce opponent for most men. His inability is an asset to you. You must learn that."

Saphira turned her head to Eragon and spoke to him through their unique bond. Yuna was not certain of what was said, but whatever it was resigned the young man to Torkenbrand's fate.

Yuna's dagger flew from her hand, embedding itself deep in his chest. Yuna slid down from Snowfire's back and retrieved her dagger. She pulled her blade from the corpse's chest, a dark sadness clouding her green eyes as she cleaned the steel on the grass, leaving a dark stain.

She knelt, stowing the dagger within her boot once more. Arya patted her lightly on the arm and Yuna felt slightly reassured.

It is different when they are helpless, Yuna murmured to Arget. The dragon narrowed his eyes, sniffing the corpse with contempt.

Then strike them before they lose their wits. I have told you before, little one; if a man is foolish enough to cross blades with my rider, let him fall under your blade.

... I am an executioner, now. He had no way to defend himself.

He would have lost regardless. As the elf said, you are a strong fighter. If holding a metal stick makes a death honorable, humans are less intelligent than I had thought, Arget said, his lip curling back slightly. Yuna smiled dully.

"I think Arget and I will fly for now," Yuna said to her two companions. Arya nodded. Eragon did not meet her eyes as he murmured an acknowledgement. Yuna took a deep breath before pulling herself onto Arget's saddle.

You sound as if you need a distraction, little one, Arget said, his chest rumbling with a quiet humor. Yuna gripped the saddle.

Yes, please.

Then hold on tight, friend of my heart, Arget said with a fierce snarl, pushing away from the ground and soaring up and up, leaving the ground and Torkenbrand's body far behind.

Joining the others at camp was awkward for Yuna. Hours away from Eragon had not done the young man much good. He was increasingly moody as the night went on. He spoke very little throughout dinner and did not make any comments on Yuna and Arya's spar, as he was prone to do. Instead, he sat quietly against Saphira's side, speaking with her silently.

"Arya, why don't you fly with Arget today?" Yuna offered with a pointed glance to the elf. Arya looked at Yuna suspiciously before seeing the barely disguised plea in her green eyes. With that, she nodded and gracefully took to the silver dragon's saddle after bowing respectfully.

"Follow along the Beartooth River until you reach the lake Kóstha-mérna. I shall find you if you go off the path," Arya promised. Yuna nodded a thank you and Arget took off, following Saphira into the clouded sky.

Yuna pulled herself onto Snowfire's saddle and set a quick pace along the river, forcing Eragon to catch up.

"Why did you do that?" Eragon asked after a while. Yuna glanced back at him.

"Do what?" she asked innocently, her tone aloof. Eragon's eyes narrowed slightly as he stared ahead.

"Send Arya away," he responded tersely. Yuna smiled as if in recognition and nodded.

"Oh, yes. I wanted to speak to you."

"About what?"

So he's sticking to the shortest answers possible... Yuna noted mentally.

"About why you are avoiding me," she said easily. Eragon tensed slightly, looking up into her face for the first time since her dagger had left her hand. Yuna smiled briefly. "Yes, I noticed. You aren't very subtle."

There was a long pause. When Eragon spoke, his voice was quiet, as if muffled.

"That was murder."

Yuna pulled on Snowfire's reins, blocking Cadoc's path and bringing Snowfire to a stop.

"That was murder?" she repeated questioningly. "I was trying to do what I thought was right."

"You think that ending a life is right?" Eragon countered, his eyes flashing angrily. Yuna paused, thinking on her wording.

"I think... I think that my life, or Arget's, or yours, or Saphira's, or Arya's life is more important than the life of a man who sells others for a living. I also think he would have died anyway. Arya would have done what I did, and so would you if we were still in an actual fight."

"We'll never know, I guess," Eragon said, some of his anger fading away slowly.

Yuna thought back to the second vision she had, of the burning battlefield. Of that spectacular duel in midair.

"We will... Soon," Yuna said with a disconcerting certainty. Eragon looked slightly startled.

"What do you mean?" he asked cautiously. Yuna glanced to the sky before looking back at Eragon, meeting his eyes.

"My second vision. That battlefield. It's soon... I can feel it... Somehow," she said, shaking her head.

"What are you-" Eragon began before he was interrupted.

Urgals!

The dragons snarled in unison in the riders' minds. Both looked up at each other, simultaneously drawing swords and looking around instinctively.

Where? both asked, their thoughts directed to their specific dragon.

Near to you. Continue to follow the river- and hurry, Arget urged.

Yuna tightened her grip on the reins, sheathing Ilianar for now.

"Come on!" she called to Eragon, digging her heels into Snowfire's sides, glad that the horses had had time to rest and recover as they traversed the mountains. Snowfire and Cadoc raced along the riverbank, following its rough path as they raced away from the urgals.

They continued on in a similar fashion, eventually slowing to a canter. When night fell, they made camp in a protective thicket of trees.

"Are we close?" was Yuna's first question to Arya as the elf slid off of Arget's back. Arya nodded once.

"We are within a two day journey," she confirmed.

"And the urgals?" Eragon asked. Arya's eyes darkened with a brief flicker of disgust.

"Not just urgals. Kull. Each are over eight feet tall and they can run for days without rest and maintain the strength to fight. Luckily, Saphira spotted them before they managed to gain much ground on you."

"Do you think they've seen us?" Yuna asked concernedly. Arya paused before nodding slowly.

"I do, but I do not think they suspect who you truly are. In any case, at the rate with which we are traveling, we shall reach the Varden before they get too close."

"I hope so," Yuna murmured.

Chapter Text

The Kóstha-mérna appeared early the next day. Arya was traveling on foot, guiding the human riders around the narrow rocky shore.

Soon enough, they stood before the waterfall. Arya looked at it, satisfied as she pointed to it.

"Now, go through it," she ordered. Yuna looked at her dubiously, as did Eragon. Arya, her face betraying no emotion, only pointed to the mouth of the valley, where the urgals had just begun pouring through. "Go. Through."

"Couldn't you have just led us around the other way?" Yuna complained. Even so, she grimaced at the waterfall as Arya darted through, pulling the horses with her. Yuna shared a glance with Eragon before throwing herself through the torrent of icy water, mirrored by the male rider.

Yuna swam through the icy water with quick and deliberate strokes, careful to compensate for Ilianar's familiar weight on her hip. She surfaced quickly and immediately began searching for Eragon. The young man was nowhere in sight and a small panic began to rise before she pushed it away, taking a deep breath and going back under.

She scanned the murky waters before seeing a familiar shape flailing in the water. Yuna surfaced quickly, taking another gulp of air before diving back down, forcing herself closer to the lakebed. She distantly noted her ears popping as she grabbed onto Eragon's arm.

Glad that the other rider was all but unconscious, Yuna quickly brought his mouth to hers, giving him what little oxygen she had left before pushing away from the lakebed, dragging him with her as she made for the surface.

They broke through the surface and Yuna took a gasping breath, forcing Eragon's head above the water before beginning the trip to the rocky shore.

Someone- Yuna did not recognize who- swam beside Eragon and helped support his weight. Yuna briefly noted that they were not an urgals- that was enough for her.

With effort, the three made their way to the shore, pushing their way onto the rocks. Yuna, coughing the water from her lungs and trying to ignore the biting cold accompany the icy water, took Eragon's pulse before sighing in relief.

"Akh Gûnteraz dorzada! What were you thinking? You would have drowned!" a gruff voice exclaimed. Yuna's eyes moved to the source of the voice, the man who had assisted her bringing Eragon to the shore.

Not a man, she realized. A dwarf!

He was stocky, wearing a chain-mail jacket that was cut at the shoulders to reveal his muscular arms. A battle axe hung from his wide leather belt. There was an iron and ox hide cap, bearing the symbol of a hammer surrounded by twelve stars, upon his head. Yuna estimated him to be no taller than four feet, iron cap included.

Eragon cough awake, shaking as well. He looked around, his eyes appraising the dwarf as well as he looked towards the approaching urgals with desire.

"But I wish I could join them," he murmured as archers appeared from above, loosing their arrows at the kull. He shook his head, turning to Eragon and Yuna. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted when a bald man in purple and gold robes leveled a dagger at Yuna. Yuna noted that, out of the gathered men and dwarves, he was alone in that he had no beard.

"Stop! If you use magic, if you even draw on it, I shall know," he said, his eyes narrowing. Yuna noticed a number of things wrong with his stance, but chose to not voice them. "Now, everyone inside!"

Glancing nervously at Eragon, Yuna sent her thoughts out tentatively.

Arget?

It is alright, child. Saphira, Arya, and I are already awaiting you, he comforted.

Yuna acknowledged him silently before holding her head up high. She reached out and grabbed Eragon's wrist, pulling him into the mountain with her.

Behind them, two twelve foot thick doors boomed closed, leaving not even a seam where the two doors were joined. They were within the Varden, for better or for worse.

The two were led through arched doorways and corridors until they were brought to a stop in a bare room, large enough for both dragons to maneuver around in comfortable. The walls, floor, and ceiling were made of polished white marble that reflected indistinct images of everyone. A single red lamp was situated, hanging from the wall, in each corner of the room, giving it a rosy glow.

Upon reaching the room, there was a hollow boom as the door closed behind them, followed quickly by a loud scraping sound as a thick bolt was secured from the outside. With this in mind, Yuna and Eragon were both relieved to see Arya, Arget, and Saphira waiting.

"Good," the bald man said, apparently satisfied with Arya's slightly angered expression as she glared at him. "Remove your weapons and slide them to me."

"This is unnecessary," Arya said icily. The bald man only let a smug smirk creep onto his face, though he did not ask for the elf's blade or bow.

Yuna narrowed her eyes at the bald man but, seeing Arya nod minutely behind him, unbuckled Ilianar's sheath from her belt. She placed the sheathed blade on the ground. It was soon joined by her bow and quiver. She knelt and withdrew her dagger, letting it fall to the small pile with a sharp clatter. As a last thought, Yuna twisted her arm around her back, fetching the dagger secured under her shirt.

"Really?" Eragon grumbled to her as he took off Zar'roc's sheath. She grinned at him, opening her mouth to speak.

"No talking!" the man barked again. The man narrowed his eyes at Eragon. "Now, you, step away from your dragon and slowly approach me."

Clearly puzzled, Eragon stepped forward. When he and the bald man where just three feet apart, the man nodded, apparently satisfied. Yuna noted one of the guards gather their weapons in his arms before departing from the room.

"Stop there!" he barked. "Now remove the defenses around you mind and prepare to let me inspect your thoughts and memories. If you try to hide anything from me, I will take what I want by force... which would drive you mad."

"I can vouch for both Eragon and Yuna," Arya said, her voice stiff and cold. Yuna recognized this combination as nothing less than disdain. The elf knew who this man was, and did not approve of him.

The man turned to Arya slowly, a malicious smile creeping to this lips.

"I'm afraid that faith alone does not keep this stronghold safe," he said oily. Arya narrowed her eyes.

"Then allow me, Twin," she said, her voice just as smooth, "to examine their minds myself. If they have secrets, I shall know."

After a long pause, the man narrowed his eyes.

"You may examine one," he said decidedly. "Choose wisely."

Arya narrowed her eyes at the man once more before glancing back at the dragons. Both Saphira and Arget nodded their heads after a moment.

Arya's eyes moved between Eragon and Yuna before finally settling on Yuna. The bald man smiled cruelly, looking to Eragon.

"Prepare your mind," he said silkily. Arya grimaced.

"Calm your mind. I will try to make this easy on you," she promised, glancing guiltily towards Eragon for a moment. Her eyes fixated on Yuna as she stepped forward. Yuna nodded, closing her eyes.

Yuna heard a gasp as the bald man entered Eragon's mind. She tensed slightly before Arya's mind brushed up against hers, almost gently. Yuna lowered her mental defenses warily and allowed Arya to slip through.

I am sorry. Arya's voice drifted through as the probe delved deeper and deeper into Yuna's thoughts and memories. It was uncomfortable, but not as painful as Yuna had anticipated.

Eragon, however, was not faring well. His defenses were so automatic that he had raised them, though it was futile against the Twin's strength. Each moment of contact his mind shared with the Twin was biting and painful and completely alien. Saphira shielded his mind as best she could without endangering his safety, masking his knowledge of the ancient language and anything else Eragon deemed confidential.

Arya, having already spent a good deal of time with Yuna, did not feel the need to be as thorough as the Twin was with Eragon. She skimmed only very briefly on Yuna's childhood, leaving portions of it unchecked altogether. She cautiously examined Yuna's memories from the Winding Circle until that fateful night, dragging Yuna to Alagaësia. The search continued through the days at Carvahall all up to the burglary at Teirm.

Arya slipped from Yuna's mind, her faith in the girl's loyalty confirmed. She looked to Eragon and was half-startled to see that the Twin had not yet finished his examination.

Yuna groaned, her hand raising to settle at her temple as the room's rosy light filled her eyes. She blinked the light away, just in time to see Eragon sway and fall to the floor. Yuna jerked to attention, breathing a sigh of relief when one of the dwarves- Orik- caught Eragon just before he hit the cold floor.

"You went too far!" Orik exclaimed. "He wasn't strong enough for this."

"He'll live. That is all the is need," the Twin answered curtly. Arya kept her expression smooth but there was a quick flash of anger in her eyes.

"What did you find?" she asked, her voice less than courteous. The Twin did not speak and Orik looked sharply at the bald human.

"Well, is he to be trusted or not?"

"He..." the Twin began after a long pause, "is not your enemy."

There was an audible sigh of relief from the men and dwarves dotting the room. Eyes turned to Arya and a slight but satisfied smile graced her lips.

"Then we have finished here. I assume we will go to Ajihad," Arya said in an aloof voice, half-asking, half-ordering the men and dwarves in the room. The Twin nodded, his eyes wary.

"He has been informed of your presence," he confirmed reluctantly.

"May we have our weapons back?" Yuna asked politely, careful to maintain an unaffected facade. In response, the bald man turned to her with disdain.

"Your weapons shall be returned to you when Ajihad sees fit, not before. Now, come!" he ordered brusquely, leading the way out of the granite room. Arya followed, her face emotionless, and was soon shadowed by Eragon, Saphira, Yuna, and Arget.

They soon reached the massive tunnel through which the group had first entered the mountain. There, waiting with Snowfire and Cadoc, were a fresh batch of guards.

"You will ride single file down the center of the tunnel," the Twin commanded. "If you attempt to go anywhere else, you will be stopped."

Eragon and Yuna both moved to their dragons, but were quickly intercepted.

"No!" the bald man barked. "Ride on horseback until I tell you otherwise."

Glancing briefly at each other, the two obeyed, each pulling themselves into the saddle. Yuna looked around the tunnel before deciding that there was not quite enough room for Arget and Saphira to move side by side comfortably.

Let us fall back, then, Arget said, coming to the same conclusion. Yuna smiled briefly at her silver companion before guiding Snowfire to Arget's side. Arget gave an answering nod and let Snowfire ahead of him. Eragon and Saphira set into a similar order ahead of them, just behind the Twin and Orik. Arya walked between Saphira and Snowfire, leaving the guards to circle the entire procession.

Seeing that they were settled, the Twin clapped his hands twice and began to walk, wordlessly calling for the others to follow. Yuna brushed her heels to Snowfire's sides as Saphira began to move forward.

The silence was only interrupted by the echoes of the horses' hooves clicking against the stone floor. The smooth walls were occasionally broken by doors and gates but they were always closed.

As time went on and their procession continued, Yuna was suddenly glad that she knew little about the leader of the Varden, Ajihad. She suffered from no expectations created from exaggerated stories or otherwise. All she knew of him was what was sure to be true. He would need to be a great strategist to have led the Varden away from destruction for the twenty years in which he has had command of it. Branching from that, he was almost definitely a rare and talented swordsman to garner enough hope and loyalty to ensure the Varden's continued secrecy.

An hour past in near silence.

At last, a white light appeared ahead the procession. It drew closer and closer, allowing Yuna to analyze details. She determined thick marble columns laced with rubies and amethysts lining the walls. Red and white lanterns hung between the pillars, illuminating the stone and crystals with an unearthly glow. Gold webbed the columns, reflecting the light.

The procession continued the entire length of the long hallway, ending in a set of colossal doors. Shimmering silver lines depicted a seven pointed crown that spanned across both doors.

The bald man stopped and raised his hand. He turned to the process, his eyes targeting Eragon and Yuna.

"Both of you will ride your dragon now. Do not attempt to fly away. There will be people watching, so remember who and what you are."

Yuna smiled broadly as she dismounted Snowfire and made her way to Arget. She jumped nimbly into the silver dragon's saddle as Eragon pulled himself onto Saphira's back. Snowfire and Cadoc were led to the back of the group and Arget stepped forward at the Twin's gesture.

I wish I had Ilianar... Yuna lamented. Arget released a comforting growl.

I shall protect you if we are in danger, he promised. Though, I think we may trust these two-legs for now.

I hope so, friend of my heart.

"We are ready," Yuna announced, looking up just as Eragon squared his shoulders.

"Good," the Twin said evenly. "The path is not wide enough for two dragons, just as we had not anticipated welcoming two riders." He did not look very pleased at the thought. "You, girl. You and your dragon will walk behind."

Arget released a growl and a tendril of smoke escaped his nostrils, but the man only smiled darkly, as if to dare Arget to attack. Yuna ran her hand down the silver dragon's neck, murmuring to him quietly. He calmed, but did not relax his glare. The Twin did not comment but went to Saphira's left shoulder, just as Orik went to Arget's right. Arya remained between the two dragons, reassuring Yuna with an ever-brief smile and Eragon with a short nod.

With no discernable signal, the doors swung open on invisible hinges. Streams of sunlight poured in through the doorway, temporarily blinding those unaccustomed to the change.

As soon as Yuna had blinked away the black spots plaguing her eyes, her green eyes went wide.

They stood at the entrance to a massive volcanic crater. Its walls narrowed as it reached skyward, the opening at the top an indeterminable distance away. A single beam of light fell through the ragged opening, illuminating the crater's center but leaving the rest in a soft twilight. The crater's far side was nearly ten miles away, if not further.

Yuna's eyes traveled down and noted the cobblestone path that led away from the tunnel's entrance. The path ran straight into the crater, ending at the base of a snowy-white mountain that gleamed with thousands of colored lights. It was less than a tenth of the height of the crater, but its appearance was deceiving as it stood just over a mile above the crater's floor.

"Look well, humans, for no rider has set eyes upon this sight for night over a hundred years. The airy peak under which we stand is Farthen Dûr- discover thousands of years ago by the father of our race, Korgan, while he tunneled for gold. And in the center stands our greatest achievement: Tronjheim, the city-mountain built from the purest mountain," Orik said, his voice thick with pride as the doors closed, giving off a muffled screech.

Then came the crowd. Clustered 'round the tunnel's entrance, leaving just enough room for the procession, was a dense sea of people. The number of people in attendance was unprecedented. The sea branched into two rivers, lining the cobblestone path. Every face was directed at the group.

There was a perfect silence. An unnerving silence, in the wake of so many people.

Yuna forced her expression to betray neither her shock nor her discomfort. She watched as Eragon glanced back at her, his eyes widened with panic. Yuna smiled at his helplessness for a moment and Arget stepped closer to Saphira.

What are you- Yuna began as Arget snaked his head closer to the sky. Her unfinished question was answered when Arget loosed a roar to the clouds high above. His objective was fulfilled, however, as Yuna immediately laughed.

The crowd hesitated for half a moment before a wild roar swept through the gathered peoples, striking the procession with a wall of sound. Yuna's smile did not fade, even as they resumed moving forward.

Yuna's smile saddened however as she studied the faces in the crowd. Each human that had come out to greet the riders wore hardened expressions under the temporary jubilation. All the men had daggers sheathed at their waists; the women carried themselves with pride but failed to hide a deeper weariness. The few children and babies looked at the newcomers with blank expressions, their eyes wide.

The procession continued as the people parted to allowed Saphira and Arget walk side by side as they neared Tronjheim.

As they grew close, Yuna began to study the fortress of stone. The white marble that made up nearly all of the city's exterior was highly polished and shone in the sun. It was dotted with countless round windows and elaborate carvings. A colored lantern hung in each window, casting a soft glow on the surrounding rock. Up ahead, guarding the entrance to the stronghold, were two thirty-foot high golden griffins. They were dwarfed by massive columns supporting a vaulted canopy high above the entrance. Between these pillars stood hulking statues of outlandish and exotic creatures, captured forever by an expert's chisel.

The heavy wooden door rumbled open as hidden chains lifted the mammoth beams one by one. A passageway, nearly fifty feet in height, extended straight through the heart of the city-mountain. The higher levels of the walls were dotted with arches and tunnels curving into the expanse of the city and each was filled with yet more people. Rich tapestries hung between the different levels, depicting heroic figures and battle scenes.

Another wave of sound hit the newcomers as Saphira and Arget stepped into the hallway, one after another. Eragon raised his hand in a wave and the cheers renewed. Yuna smiled once more as Arget sent a wave of smoke to one of the balconies.

The hall eventually ended in an arch flanked by black onyx pillars. The group stepped through the archway, only to find themselves in a large circular room. After a quick glance up, Yuna estimated that the ceiling was Tronjheim's very peak, nearly a mile above their heads. The walls were lined with arches and tunnels, one for each level of the city-mountain. The room itself was the nexus of four massive tunnels that divided the city-mountain into quarters.

The ceiling was made of a dawn-red star sapphire of enormous size. The crystal was twenty feet wide, and nearly as thick. Its face had been masterfully carved to resemble a massive rose in full bloom. A wide belt of lanterns wrapped around the edge of the sapphire, casting bands of rosy light over everything below.

Yuna and Eragon could only stare. Nothing had prepared either of them for the display of wealth and grandeur demonstrated by the stunning city-mountain. It seemed impossible that this stronghold was crafted by mortal hands. It was a breathtaking monument to the dwarves' power and perseverance.

"You must go on foot now," the Twin said, stepping in front of the procession. The crowds lining the room's arches and tunnels gave a layered boo of disapproval as Eragon and Yuna slid from Saphira and Arget's backs.

Satisfied, the bald man led them to the right-hand tunnel, following it for several hundred feet before entering a smaller corridor. The guards remained, though the tunnel was hardly wide enough for all of them. They continued on through the halls, taking a number of sudden turns, before ending up before yet another massive door. This one was made of old cedar, blackened by age. The bald man pulled it open and ushered all but the guards inside.

Chapter Text

Yuna found herself in an elegant, two-story study. The walls were lined with rows of cedar bookshelves, each laden with innumerable books. A wrought iron staircase wound up to a small balcony with a pair of chairs and a reading table. White lanterns hung along the walls and ceiling, brightly illuminating the entire room. The cold stone floor was covered by an oval rug. At the far end of the room, a man stood behind a large walnut desk. He turned to face the newcomers slowly, his movements deliberate and dignified.

The man had dark skin, not unlike a Trader's, Yuna noted. His head was shaved bare, but a short trimmed beard covered his chin and upper lip. He had prominent cheekbones and a strong brow, shadowing his grave, intelligent eyes. His shoulders were broad and powerful, emphasized by the tapered red vest embroidered with gold thread and clasped over a rich purple shirt.

When he spoke after a short pause, his voice was confident and exuded strength.

"Welcome to Tronjheim, Eragon, Saphira, Yuna, and Arget," he greeted. "And welcome back, Arya."

Arya stepped in front of the two riders and dragons and bowed her head briefly.

"I apologize for my absence."

If Ajihad was surprised by her apology, he hid it well.

"The fault was not your own. Who am I to thank for your safe recovery?" he asked, his voice smooth, but pleasantly so.

"Yuna and Arget. If not for their action, I might have been in Gil'ead even now," she said, a smile gracing her lips. Ajihad nodded at her before smiling at Yuna.

"I thank you. But, now is not the time to discuss such matters. Please, seat yourselves," Ajihad said. Eragon, Yuna, and Arya each chose a seat before the desk. Arget and Saphira settled behind their riders protectively.

Ajihad snapped his fingers and another man came out from the bookshelves. Yuna looked to her right, startled. The bald man had not moved, but there was an identical man in front of her.

Twins, she realized.

"Your confusion is understandable," Ajihad said, nodding at Eragon. "They are twin brothers. I would tell you their names, but they have none."

Ajihad took a seat in his own chair behind the desk and the Twins retreated to the bookshelves, staying out of the way. Ajihad studied the two human riders, his gaze unwavering. After what felt like minutes, he sat back in his chair.

"I want everyone out of this room but the five of you," Ajihad decided abruptly, looking keenly at Arya, the two riders, and the two dragons. The Twins bowed and left without a word but Orik stayed behind.

"Sir, there is still the matter of my insubordination," he said somewhat awkwardly. Ajihad frowned but waved his hand.

"I will tell Hrothgar myself. For now, wait outside until I call for you. And don't let the Twins escape. I am not done with them, either."

Orik bowed his head before hurrying from the room, closing it behind him with a solid thump.

Ajihad looked at the four from over his hands before Eragon blurted out the question that had been hanging on Yuna's mind since she entered the study.

"So, now what?"

"I need you to tell me how you found Saphira's egg and everything that's happened since. Some of it I know from the message Brom sent us, other parts from the Twins. But I want to hear it from you, especially the details concerning Brom's death."

Eragon reluctantly told his story, stumbling over various parts in which Saphira helped him fill in details. Yuna added her own remembrances to the story, including the trip to Gil'ead and the rescue of Arya.

This narration continued for hours and, when it was complete, Ajihad stood, clasping his hands behind his back, and absently studied one of the bookshelves. After a long minute, he returned to his desk.

"Brom's death is a terrible loss. He was a close friend of mine and a powerful ally of the Varden. He saved us from destruction many times through his bravery and intelligence. Even now, when he is gone, he's provided us with the only thing that can ensure our success: the two of you."

"But what can you expect us to accomplish?" Eragon asked.

"I will explain it in full," Ajihad said, "but there are more urgent matters to be dealt with first. The news of the urgals' alliance with the Empire is extremely serious. If Galbatorix is gathering an army to destroy us, the Varden will be hard pressed to survive, even though many of us are protected here in Farthen Dûr. That a rider, even one as evil as Galbatorix, would consider a pact with such monsters is indeed proof of madness. I shudder to think of what he promised them in return for their fickle loyalty. And then there is the Shade. Arya, can you describe him?"

"Better than that, I can confirm his identity. Durza," she said, her mouth twisting into a grimace. "We are lucky that he had been called away from Gil'ead to Urû'baen. If he had been in Gil'ead, we would not have escaped that easily, if at all."

A thick silence fell on the group before Ajihad spoke again.

"The two of you- Eragon, Yuna- are a quandary that no one knows how to solve. Everyone knows what the Varden wants- or the urgals, or even Galbatorix- but no one knows whatyou want. And that makes you dangerous, especially to Galbatorix. He fears you because he doesn't know what you will do next."

"Does the Varden fear us?" Yuna asked quietly.

"No," Ajihad said carefully. "We are hopeful. But if that hope proves false, then yes, we will be afraid... You must understand the unusual nature of your position. There are factions who want you to serve their interests and no one else's. The moment you entered Farthen Dûr, their influence and power began tugging on you."

Yuna nodded.

"Brom once said that this war was being fought over Eragon and I," she said thoughtfully. "That those who control the next generation of dragon riders will control these lands."

"It is true enough," Ajihad said in a cautious voice.

"May I speak plainly, then?"

"Of course," he said, nodding almost warily. Yuna glanced back at Arya and Eragon before speaking.

"I have met many people in my travels, but never a woman who could properly hold a sword. So I ask you, Ajihad, what will you have me do for the Varden? Will you trust me to hold my own on a battlefield or will you attempt to send me back with the wives and children?"

"You believe you are so capable to fight?"

Yuna wondered if she was imagining his almost patronizing tone.

"I understand that in this land women are expected to cower behind their husbands and brothers but it was not so in Lairan. I have been in Alagaësia for less than a year and I have already been forced to take the lives of three men. So I have been led to believe I am capable in a fight, at least against mortal men."

Ajihad was silent for a time and Yuna began to speak once more.

"You have my account on what has happened to me since I appeared in this land. You should know that I was forced to bury my father and my best friend when I was but nine, murdered at the hands of men not unlike urgals, men who rejoice in death and pain. I have cared for my five younger brothers and mother until I was selected as mageborn. I went south to Emelan, to the Winding Circle Temple, where I was apprenticed to a gifted smithmage. I am capable, but I am not yet educated."

Your point, Yuna, Arget rumbled in my mind.

"My point," I began anew, glancing pointedly at Arget's silver head, "is that if you wish me to fight, then I will fight. If you want me to hide behind Eragon or the Varden's armies, then I must decline."

Ajihad's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Would you leave the Varden simply because you refuse protection?"

"If it came to it, I would. The Varden cannot afford to protect me this late in the war. Neither Arget nor I wish to be fighting for all our lives, but I would rather fight then watch those around me die while I am left to hide in the shadows."

"Brom said that you had a quick mind," Ajihad said, frowning slightly. He crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. "He also expressed how irritating your strong will can be. I am beginning to see why. Galbatorix would be especially eager to capture you. In truth, none of us know where Arget's egg originated from."

"I am aware."

"Then you know why you cannot leave yourself open to attack."

Yuna worded her response carefully, gauging Ajihad's expression as she spoke.

"It brings a harsher awareness to my need of education. Education I can only receive in Du Weldenvarden. You were right in saying that our position was unusual. Both Eragon and I need an alarming amount of training before we are able to face Galbatorix without getting ourselves needlessly killed. But we cannot leave the Varden without promise of future assistance. That means that we will have to openly swear fealty to you and possibly the dwarf king."

"Your position with Hrothgar is already precarious," Ajihad said quietly. "The thirteen clans are subservient to Hrothgar, but each clan chief wields enormous power; they choose the next dwarf king when the old one dies. Hrothgar is sympathetic to the Varden's cause, but many of the chiefs aren't. He can't afford to anger them unnecessarily or he'll lose the support of his people, so his actions on our behalf have been severely circumscribed."

"These clan chiefs, are they against us as well?" Eragon asked, looking back to Yuna. Ajihad nodded wearily.

"Even more so, I'm afraid. There has long been enmity between dwarves and dragons. Before the elves came and made peace, dragons made a regular habit of eating the dwarves' flocks and stealing their gold, and the dwarves are slow to forget past wrongs. Indeed, they never fully accepted the riders or allowed them to police their kingdom. Galbatorix's rise to power only served to convince many of them that it would be better never to deal with riders or dragons ever again."

"Why doesn't Galbatorix know where Farthen Dûr and Ellesméra are? Surely he was told of them when he was instructed by the riders," Eragon reasoned.

"Told of them, yes. Shown where they are, no. It's one thing to know that Farthen Dûr lies within these mountains, quite another to find it. Galbatorix hadn't been taken to either place before his dragon was killed. After that, of course, the riders didn't trust him. He tried to force the information out of several riders during his rebellion, but they chose to die rather than reveal it to him. As for the dwarves, he's never managed to capture one alive, though it's only a matter of time."

"Then why doesn't he just take an army and march through Du Weldenvarden until he finds Ellesméra?" Eragon asked. A smug smile found its way to Arya's lips.

"The elves may have weakened since Galbatorix rose to power, but we still have more than enough to keep him from our forests. Ellesméra is also hidden deep within Du Weldenvarden. His armies would be stopped long before they reached the city."

"He does not dare test his strength against theirs. He could be overpowered by numbers alone. But his cursed sorcery grows stronger each year. With another rider at his side, he would be nigh unstoppable. He keeps trying to get one of his two eggs to hatch, but so far he's been unsuccessful."

"How can his power be increasing? The strength of his body limits his abilities- it can't build itself up forever," Eragon commented, puzzled.

"We do not know," Ajihad said, shrugging his broad shoulders. "We can only hope that someday he will be destroyed by one of his own spells."

The dark skinned man reached into his vest and somberly pulled out a battered and torn piece of parchment. He placed it on the desk and Yuna stepped towards the desk to study it. On it were lines of black script in a language Yuna could not identify. Large sections of the script were destroyed by blots of blood and one side of the parchment was charred.

"What is this?" Yuna asked apprehensively.

"This was taken from the leader of the urgal host we destroyed last night. It cost us five men to do so- they sacrificed themselves so that you might escape safely. The writing is the king's invention, a script he uses to communicate with his servants. It took me some time, but I was able to devise its meaning, at least where it's legible. It reads: ... gatekeeper at Ithrö Zhâda is to let this bearer and his minions pass. They are to be bunked with the others of their kind and by... but only if the two factions refrain from fighting. Command will be given under Tarok, under Gashz, under Durza, under Ushnark the Mighty. Ushnark is Galbatorix. It means 'father' in the urgal tongue, an affection that pleases him. Find what they are suitable for and... The footmen and... are meant to be kept separate. No weapons are to be distribute until... for marching. Nothing else can be read past there, except for a few vague words," Ajihad finished.

"Where is Ithrö Zhâda?" Arya asked, puzzled. "I've never heard of it."

"Nor have I, which makes me suspect that Galbatorix has renamed an existing place for his own purposes. After deciphering this, I asked myself what hundreds of urgals were doing in the Beor Mountains where you first saw them and where they are going."

"We have had suspicions that the urgals were massing to bombard Farthen Dûr. There have been reports of them moving southeast for months from Teirm to Gil'ead," Yuna nodded.

"It is troubling," Ajihad agreed quietly. "I am afraid that we have a traitor, or traitors, in our midst, despite our efforts to examine people's minds for deceit."

There was silence for a long minute before Eragon spoke.

"What do you want from me? What is expected of me in Tronjheim? You and the elves have plans for me, but what if I don't like them?"

Yuna looked at him, surprised by the hardness in his voice.

"I'll fight when needed, revel when there's occasion, mourn when there is grief, and die if my time comes... but I won't let anyone use me against my will."

Yuna smiled to herself. It seems I'm not the only one that doesn't want to be nothing more than a tool.

I will not let any claim to control us, Arget said, a quiet growl rumbling in his chest.

"Calm down," Yuna murmured, glancing back to Arget. The growl grew just a little louder before cutting off abruptly.

"The riders of old were arbiters of justice above and beyond the leaders of their time. I don't claim that position- I doubt people would accept such oversight when they've been free of it all their lives, especially from one as young as me. But I do have power, and I will wield it as I see fit. What I want to know is how you plan to use me. Then I will decided whether to agree it."

"Brom was right, you are unfit for political life," Yuna said dryly.

"Even so, he is right," Ajihad said, looking at the young man wryly. "Your position gives you the privilege to say such things. You cannot escape the politics of your position, either of you, and you will be influenced, one way or another. I don't want to see either of you become pawns of any one group or purpose more than you do. You must retain your freedom, for in it lies your true power: the ability to make choices independent of any leader or king. My own authority over you will be limited, but I believe it's for the best.

"Also, despite your protests, the people here have certain expectations of you. They are going to bring you their problems, no matter how petty, and demand that you solve them." Ajihad leaned forward, clasping his hands over the wood of his desk as his voice grew deadly serious. "There will be cases where someone's future will rest in your hands... with a word you can send them careening into happiness or misery. Young women will seek your opinion on whom they should marry- Eragon, many will pursue you as a husband- and old men will ask which of their children should receive an inheritance. You must be kind and wise with them all, for they put their trust in you. Don't speak flippantly or without thought, because your words will have impact far beyond what you intend. Do not worry about your youth and inexperience; they will pass soon enough."

"You still haven't answered his question," Yuna noted softly. Ajihad exhaled deeply, looking between Yuna and Eragon.

"For now, nothing. I'm sure that you'll appreciate rest after all you've been through. When you've recovered, we will test your competency in arms and magic. After that- well, I will explain your options and then you'll have to decide your course."

Ajihad turned in his chair and lifted a bundle onto his desk. He moved the blanket aside to reveal the riders' weapons.

"You may have these back, although I would advise that you do not carry Morzan's sword within Farthen Dûr. Many here remember Morzan's time with hate, especially the dwarves."

"I'll remember that," Eragon promised. He and Yuna secured their blades to their waists and Yuna hid her daggers once more.

"I nearly forgot," Yuna said as she picked up her bow. "Could you see if I may use someone's forge?"

"Any particular reason?"

"I swore to Eragon that I would forge him a new blade. Zar'roc is a rider's blade to be sure, but its past is infamous and bloody. I've examined it and am glad to say that Brom dispatched the man who bore it," Yuna said, shuddering slightly at the memory. Ajihad looked somewhat cautious but nodded.

"I am sure there is a forge you can utilize but your request would be better sent to Hrothgar. I am sure that he will want to see the two of you before too long."

"Thank you," Yuna said, bowing her head. Ajihad nodded before his hand went to his desk once more.

"That reminds me, I still have Brom's ring, which he sent as confirmation of is identity. I was keeping it for when he returned to Tronjheim. Now that he's dead..." Ajihad's voice drifted off as he fetched the ring from a desk drawer.

"He would have wanted Eragon to have it," Yuna said surely as Ajihad placed it on the desk. Eragon opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted when Arya's eyes lit up with surprise.

"May I see that?"

Ajihad gave her the ring without a word and Arya studied the sapphire's face.

"I did not know that Queen Islanzadí thought so highly of Brom," she said after a moment. "This is a token given only to the most valued elf-friends- so valued, it has not been used in centuries, or so I thought."

Yuna looked at the ring briefly, her eyes tracing the symbol carved on its face. She was surprised, as was Eragon, when Arya pressed the ring into Eragon's hand.

"It will give you protection if you meet my people by chance and it may help you gain favor with the queen," she explained.

"I... I am honored," Eragon said, caught off guard by the gesture. Ajihad nodded gravely before straightening with a lordly air.

"Orik!" he called. The dwarf hurried into the room and stood before the desk. Ajihad frowned at him, irritated.

"You've caused me a great deal of trouble, Orik. I've had to listen to one of the Twins complain all morning about your insubordination. They won't let it rest until you are punished. Unfortunately they're right. It's a serious matter that cannot be ignored. Your actions were honorable, but you did defy a direct order from your commander. The penalty for that has always been death."

Orik stiffened as Ajihad paused.

"However, the sentence will be mitigated because of the circumstances. As of now, Orik, you are removed from active service and forbidden to engage in any military activities under my command. Do you understand?"

Orik's face darkened before it parted, revealing confusion. He nodded once.

"Yes."

"Furthermore, in the absence of your regular duties, I appoint you Eragon, Saphira, Yuna, and Arget's guide for the duration of their stay. You are to make sure they receive every comfort and amenity we have to offer. Saphira and Arget shall stay above Isidar Mirthrim. Eragon and Yuna may have quarters wherever they want. When they are recovered from their journey, take them to the training fields. They're expecting them."

"I understand," Orik said, bowing.

"Very well, you all may go, except you, Arya. Orik, send in the Twins as you leave."

Following suit, Eragon and Yuna bowed to the Varden's leader before following Orik out of the office.

Chapter Text

Once Saphira and Arget were safely on their way to the Isidar Mirthrim, Zar'roc and Ilianar in tow, the two riders were guided to the kitchens and given platters of food. Orik took them up several flights of stairs before stopping in an alcove cut from the outer wall of Tronjheim. The three sat on the floor and ate their food wordlessly.

When their platters were empty, Orik sighed with contentment.

"A worthy repast, though it needed a good draught of mead to wash it down properly," he said, taking out a long stemmed pipe and lighting it.

"Do you farm in Farthen Dûr?" Eragon asked, surveying the ground below. Orik shook his head.

"No, there's only enough sunlight for moss, mushrooms, and mold. Tronjheim cannot survive without supplies from the surrounding valleys, which is one reason why many of us choose to live elsewhere in the Beor Mountains."

"So there are other dwarf cities?" Yuna asked curiously.

"Not as many as we would like. And Tronjheim is the greatest of them. You have only seen the lower levels, so it hasn't been apparent, but most of Tronjheim is deserted. The farther up you go, the emptier it gets. Entire floors have remained untouched for centuries. Most dwarves prefer to dwell under the Tronjheim and Farthen Dûr in the caverns and passageways that riddle the rock. Through the centuries we have tunneled extensively under the Beor Mountains. It is possible to walk from one end of the mountain range to the other without ever setting foot on the surface."

"That's amazing," Yuna commented. Eragon nodded slowly before speaking.

"It seems a waste to have all that unused space in Tronjheim," he stated. Orik nodded in acknowledgment before elaborating.

"Some have argued for abandoning this place because of its drain on our resources, but Tronjheim does perform one invaluable task."

"What's that?"

"In times of misfortune, it can house our entire nation. There have been only three instances in our history when we have been forced to that extreme, but each time it had saved us from certain and utter destruction. That is why we always keep it garrisoned, ready for use."

"I've never seen anything so magnificent," Eragon said. Yuna nodded.

"There is nothing in Emelan that could rival it," she agreed. Orik smiled around his pipe.

"I'm glad you find it so. It took generations to build Tronjheim, and our lives are much longer than those of men. Unfortunately, because of the cursed Empire, few outsiders are allowed to see its glory."

"How many Varden are here?" Eragon asked curiously.

"Dwarves or humans?"

"Humans- I want to know how many have fled the Empire."

"There are about four thousand of your kin here. But that's a poor indicator of what you want to know. Only people who wish to fight come here. The rest of them are under King Orrin's protection in Surda."

"Why doesn't Orrin fight the Empire himself?" Eragon asked next.

"If he were to show open hostility, Galbatorix would crush him. As it is, Galbatorix withholds that destruction because he considers Surda a minor threat, which is a mistake. It's through Orrin's assistance that the Varden have most of their weapons and supplies. Without him, there would be no resisting the Empire.

"Don't despair over the number of humans in Tronjheim. There are many dwarves here- many more than you have seen- and all will fight when the time comes. Orrin has also promised us troops for when we battle Galbatorix. The elves have pledged their help as well."

"What does the symbol on your helm mean?" Yuna asked curiously. "I saw it on the floor in Tronjheim as well."

Orik brushed a finger over the symbol, a smile coming to his bearded face.

"It is the symbol of my clan. We are the Ingeitum, metalworkers and master smiths. The hammer and stars are inlaid into Tronjheim's floor because it was the personal crest of Korgan, our founder. One clan to rule, with twelve surrounding. King Hrothgar is Dûrgrimst Ingeitum as well and has brought my house much glory, much honor."

"That's why Ajihad told me to ask Hrothgar," Yuna realized. Orik looked at her with a surprised curiosity and Yuna smiled. "I am- well, I was apprenticed to a smith before Arget hatched for me. In my home, my master and I were smithmages. I asked Ajihad if he knew of a smithy I could use to forge a new weapon for Eragon, since Zar'roc has such a brutal past."

"You are a smith as well?" Orik beamed. Yuna nodded, returning his smile. "Hrothgar will be pleased to know this. But for now, we must return these platters."

Eragon and Yuna followed Orik back into the marble tunnels of Tronjheim. They were just leaving the kitchens when a dwarf in the hall stopped before Eragon and Yuna, bowing.

"Argetlam," he murmured respectfully before straightening and leaving the three. The gesture surprised Yuna and left Eragon fumbling for an answer.

"What did he say?" Eragon asked Orik. Yuna glanced up at him.

"It's an elven word people used to refer to the riders, according to Arya. It means 'silver hand', after the gedwëy ignasia," she answered.

"Couldn't have said it better myself," Orik nodded in agreement. "Do you wish to return to Saphira and Arget?"

"Is there somewhere I could bathe first?" Yuna asked.

"Me as well. We haven't been able to wash off the grime of the road for a long time. And my shirt's in miserable condition but I have no money to replace it. Is there some way I could work for one?"

"Do you see to insult Hrothgar's hospitality?" Orik demanded. "As long as you are in Tronjheim, you won't have to buy a single thing. You'll pay for it in other ways- Ajihad and Hrothgar will see to that. Come. I'll show you where to wash, then fetch both of you new clothes."

And they were led back into the tunnels, deeper and deeper into the rock. The corridors shrank to mere tunnels just five feet tall, forcing Eragon and Yuna to duck to avoid running into the ceiling. They eventually entered a bare room with a small door on the far side. Orik pointed at the door.

"The pools are through there, along with brushes and soap. You can leave your clothes here. I'll have new ones waiting when you get out."

Eragon immediately blushed and Yuna laughed at his expense.

"I don't think the sexes bathed together in Carvahall," Yuna murmured. Orik looked at Eragon, who wasn't looking anywhere in particular as he avoided looking at Yuna. "Honestly, Eragon, have you never seen a naked woman before?"

Eragon's helpless yet blank expression was answer enough. Yuna rolled her eyes once more before turning to Orik.

"He'll be fine. Thank you," she smiled. Orik left the room and Yuna turned to Eragon once more. "Would you feel better if we took turns?"

Eragon looked impressively uncomfortable, stammering half-finished sentences. Yuna sighed once more, casting her thoughts towards Arget.

Eragon is being completely useless.

What did he- Oh, Arget realized, skimming Yuna's most recent memories. Arget's thoughts began to radiate amusement at the male rider's blank expression.

"Okay, Argetlam, you go first. I'll turn around and everything," Yuna teased. She lightly pushed him towards the small door, snapping him out of whatever trance he was in.

"You can go first," he said clearly. Yuna rolled her eyes.

"If I'm out before the clothes get here, you'll be reduced to a stammering idiot. Again," she said, her eyes laughing. Eragon grimaced slightly, but the blush had not yet faded. "Now stop being useless and go get clean."

"But if I'm done before-"

"I took care of five younger brothers. Trust me, you have nothing to hide," Yuna said, crossing her arms. She turned around for his benefit, not moving until the small door had shut, separating the two riders.

Orik appeared and took Eragon's clothes, leaving two towels and clothes for both humans. Eragon got a fine linen shirt and a pair of brown breeches while Yuna was given a similar linen shirt with a moss green vest and leather leggings. Yuna placed one of the towels beside the small door and waited at the other side of the room.

Eragon soon came out and dried and dressed quickly.

"Okay," he said once he was done. Yuna turned around to face him and rolled her eyes as she began to undress. Eragon hurriedly turned around, the blush back.

"Honestly, now I'm just insulted," she teased. She finished undressing and went through the door, finding herself in complete darkness. She inched forward into the warm water and lowered herself in, finding the brushes and soap quickly. She untangled her hair, which had grown long once more, and scrubbed herself clean of any dirt or dried blood that had accumulated since her last bath.

When she was finished, she left the dark room, still dripping, to see that Eragon had already left the room for the hallway. Disappointed that she had missed another chance to make fun of him, she dried off and dressed quickly, hiding her daggers once more. She braided her hair behind her, tying it out of the way. Satisfied, she left the room for the tunnel to find Orik and Eragon waiting for her.

When they were together once more, Orik led the small group out of the tunnels and into the openness of Farthen Dûr. Eragon and Yuna each called for their dragons and Arget and Saphira replied by landing not twenty feet away from the three. As soon as the two were on the ground, curious humans and dwarves began to trickle out of the city-mountain, gathering around the two dragons. The crowd grew as Eragon and Yuna each climbed to the saddle.

"You'd better go," Orik nodded. "Meet me by this gate tomorrow morning. I'll be waiting."

"How will we know that it's morning?" Yuna asked curiously.

"I'll have someone wake you," Orik said quickly, lest he be sucked into the ever-growing crowd.

Before either Arget or Saphira could take off, an old woman stepped out of the crowd, grasping Eragon's ankle with a fierce grip. He clearly tried to pull away, but she was stronger than her appearance suggested. She was clearly old and wearied by time and hardship, but that only empowered her. A tattered bundle rested in the crook of her left arm.

"What do you want?" Eragon asked, his voice slightly fearful. The woman tilted her left arm, and a piece of the blanket fell away, revealing a baby's face.

"The child has no parents; there is no one to care for her but me, and I am weak. Bless her with your power! Bless her for luck!" Her voice was hoarse and desperate. Yuna recognized that desperation. Her mother had a similar tone of voice after they discovered what befell Yuna's father.

Yuna slid off of Arget's back and walked towards Saphira, Eragon, and the old woman. Arget growled loudly, clearing the crowd.

"Bless her, Argetlam, bless her," the woman repeated hoarsely. Eragon's eyes suddenly shone with determination. He bent down, pulling off his right glove.

Eragon, we must choose these words carefully, Yuna murmured in his mind before he could realize she was invading.

I think I know what to say, he said. Yuna looked up at him.

Give me your strength. I know what to say.

"Argetlam!" the woman cried out quietly in surprise as Yuna stepped in front of the woman.

"All will be well," Yuna smiled gently. Eragon put a hand on her shoulder and Yuna felt him begin to transfer energy to her. Yuna rested her right hand gently on the baby's brow, closing her green eyes. "Atra guliä un ilian tauthr ono un atra ono waíse sköliro fra rauthr. Atra thornessa fyrn taune neo onr fricaya orono breoal. Waíse ikonoka."

The blessing stole from her energy, and she allowed Eragon to fuel half of the spell.

That is enough, she said once the spell drew to a close. Eragon straightened on Saphira's back and Yuna took a deep breath before smiling softly at the woman.

"If any words will keep her safe, it will be those."

The old woman, whispering thanks, moved to cover the babe again but was stopped when Saphira snorted, twisting her neck so that her head hovered just above the child. She lowered her head carefully and brushed the babe between the eyes with just the tip of her nose before pulling away.

A gasp ran through the crowd as, before their eyes, a star-shaped patch of skin began to glow silver dully, not unlike a gedwëy ignasia. The old woman could not speak, her eyes thanking Saphira with all she had.

Yuna slipped back to Arget as Saphira took off. She did not say a word as Arget joined Saphira in flight, leaving the crowd far below as they flew up to the dragonhold.

They landed in the dragonhold and Yuna was surprised to find that the floor was the great star sapphire itself, Isidar Mirthrim. She studied the strange room that was the dragonhold as she slipped off of Arget's back. The dragonhold was made in the shape of a circle, sixty feet high and sixty feet across. The marble walls were lined with the dark opening of caves that varied in size from tiny grottoes to gaping caverns. Silver rungs were set into the marble so that people could access the higher caves. A massive archway led out of the dragonhold, showing the beginning of the Vol Turin, the staircase that runs from the top of Tronjheim to the bottom.

Will I have to sleep apart from you? Yuna asked Arget. Arget shook his massive head before leading her to one of the medium-sized caves. Yuna glanced back to see Saphira show Eragon to a similar cave nearby before scurrying up after her silver friend.

The cave was nearly black brown in color and much deeper than Yuna had first guessed. The roughly chiseled walls, a stark difference from the highly polished marble of the majority of Tronjheim, gave the cave a more natural feel. Near the far wall was a thick cushion large enough for Arget to sleep on. A bed built into the wall was close by. The entire cave was lit by a red lantern that had a shutter so as to mute the light.

I like this... It feels secure, Yuna said as Arget curled up on the cushion. Yuna sat on the edge of the cushion and leaned against Arget's shoulder. I remember when you were barely up to my knee.

Arget released a puff of smoke, but it was accompanied by an amused snort.

And I remember eating more so that you would have to go hunting, he said mischievously. Yuna looked up at him, surprised but laughing.

Jerk, she accused teasingly. Garrow didn't know how we went through so much meat so quickly.

But you became a better hunter for it, Arget reminded her before thoughts of Garrow could dampen her mood. Yuna was sufficiently distracted, however.

And I always had to cover for Eragon while he went to visit you and Saphira... You knew I wanted to come, right?

Of course I knew. That is why I did not argue, he grumbled good-naturedly. Yuna sighed contentedly and Arget uncurled slightly, letting Yuna closer. She crawled closer to his chest and he wrapped his massive foreleg around, capturing her.

What do you think of the Varden so far?

Their people are pleased to see us, but we have much opposition as well... The Twins dislike us; we would be careful to avoid confrontation. They seem close to Ajihad, or at least higher ranking. Our best chance is to befriend those in power.

I fear it will be impossible to remain independent of all these different leaders. We will have sworn so many oaths by the end of this war...

We must be careful with our wording, then. If we are cautious, we will only be bound as far as we please. And if any wish to argue, they shall-

We don't need to threaten anyone yet, Yuna chuckled.

Even so, we would do well to remain on our guard.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Yuna awoke to find herself still with Arget, a blanket haphazardly wrapped around her. She yawned, stretching.

Good morning, little one, Arget rumbled contentedly.

G'morning, she replied blearily. Arget moved his foreleg so that she could escape and Yuna stood, still stretching her tired limbs. That reminds me, is it morning?

Yes. A dwarf came in to wake you, but I made him leave.

You didn't need to do that, Yuna pouted. Arget's sides rumbled with laughter as he stood and shook his scales.

You were very tired, friend of my heart. You deserved your rest.

Fine... Do you know if Eragon and Saphira are awake?

Yes. Eragon left with the werecat some time ago, but Saphira expects him back soon.

Do you think we should wait for him to return or wait with Orik?

Arget's response was clear when he grinned toothily. Yuna reached for Ilianar, belting the sword to her waist. She double checked that her daggers were still in place before joining Arget at the mouth of the cave.

Just as Yuna left the cave, Eragon appeared out of the archway leading to the Vol Turin. She smiled at him brightly as Arget touched down beside her.

"Arget and I were just about to meet Orik. Would you like us to wait for you?"

"I'll be ready in a moment," Eragon said to his fellow rider just as Saphira jumped from her cave, Zar'roc in her claws. After a moment of silent conversation, Eragon belted the sword onto his hip and climbed onto Saphira's back. Yuna leapt to Arget's saddle and they were off.

Arget flew into a steep dive once they were clear of the city-mountain, angling out and beginning a wide turn to come to a stop at the gate Orik had instructed them to meet at. Saphira glided down in a gentle downward spiral. The two landed within seconds of each other, leaving the two riders with broad grins on their faces.

Even now, flying is incredible, Yuna said to Arget as Orik came rushing towards them. He seemed to be in a hurry.

"My king, Hrothgar, wishes to see all four of you. Dismount quickly. We must hurry," he said, panting slightly before running back the way he had come. Eragon and Yuna slipped out of their saddles without question, jogging to catch up with the rushing dwarf. Saphira and Arget easily kept pace behind the three.

"Where will we be seeing the king?" Eragon asked between breaths. Orik glanced back at him, not slowing.

"In the throne room beneath the city. It will be a private audience as an act of otho- of 'faith'. You do not have to address him in any special manner, but speak to him respectfully. Hrothgar is quick to anger, but he is wise and sees keenly into the minds of men, so think carefully before you speak."

"You said a private audience," Yuna began. "Does that mean he wants to talk to Eragon and I individually?"

"He does," Orik confirmed. Yuna nodded, her thoughts growing more chaotic by the moment. She pushed her unruly thoughts aside. There would be time to deal with them after meeting Hrothgar.

At the end of their hurried walk, they stopped before two massive granite doors. Another seven-pointed crown was carved across the span of both doors. Seven dwarves stood guard on either side of the doors, each holding burnished mattocks and wearing gem-encrusted belts. As the small group approached, each of the guarding dwarves pounded against the floor with their mattocks' hafts. The doors swung open inward, revealing a dark hall. Stalagmites and stalactites lines the walls, occasionally interrupted with a lantern. The brown floor was completely smooth and polished, reflecting the sparse light. At the end of the hall was a black throne in which a motionless figure sat.

"Yuna first," Orik ordered. "The king awaits you."

Yuna laid her hand on Arget's silver side and took a calming breath before the two set forward, aware of how rushed this all seemed. The doors closed as soon as they were clear, leaving them alone in the room with the dwarf king.

Yuna couldn't help but notice how loudly her and Arget's footsteps echoed in the dark hall as they approached the throne. As they walked, Yuna noticed that, between the stalagmites and stalactites, were large statures, each depicting a dwarf king on their throne. Their eyes gazed sternly into the distance, their lined faces were set in a fierce expression. A name was chiseled beneath each king's feet.

Yuna and Arget continued their path between the rows of long-dead monarchs. More than forty statues passed them by, at which point empty alcoves appeared, awaiting future kings.

The dwarf king himself, Hrothgar, sat upon his throne very still. The throne itself was, now that Yuna could see, was cut from a single piece of black marble. It looked very sharply cut, lacked adornments, and did not possess even a single curved edge. Even so, or perhaps because of, its rigid appearance, the black stone exuded strength and perseverance. A gold helm lined with precious stones sat upon the king's head. His face was aged, weathered by countless years. Beneath his strong brow glinted deep-set eyes. He wore a shirt of mail over his powerful chest. His long white beard was tucked under his jeweled belt and a war hammer rested in his lap. As they drew close, Yuna noted the symbol of Dûrgrimst Ingeitum embossed on its head.

Yuna looked up at the king before bowing. Arget did move from his upright position, his eyes searching the king's face.

"Rise, Rider, you need not pay tribute to me," King Hrothgar said in a rumbling voice. He looked up at Yuna with a piercing gaze. "Âz knurl demn lanok. 'Beware, the rock changes'- an old dictum of ours... And nowadays the rock changes very fast indeed."

He paused for a moment, his fingers tracing the head of his war hammer.

"I could not meet with you earlier, as Ajihad did, because I was forced to deal with my enemies within the clans. They demanded that I deny you sanctuary and expel you from Farthen Dûr. It has taken much work on my part to convince them otherwise."

"Thank you," Yuna said tentatively. "I was not aware of how much strife my presence here in Tronjheim would stir."

The king nodded absently before lifting his hand and pointing away.

"See there, Rider Yuna, where my predecessors sit upon their graven thrones. One and forty there are, with I the forty-second. When I pass from this world into the care of the gods, my hírna will be added to their ranks. The first statue is the likeness of my ancestor Korgan, who forged this mace, Volund. For eight millennia- since the dawn of our race- dwarves have ruled under Farthen Dûr. We are the bones of this land, older than both the fair elves and the savage dragons."

Arget shifted his weight but did not comment. Hrothgar leaned forward towards the two, rider and dragon.

"I am old, human, even by our reckoning. Old enough to have seen the riders in all their fleeting glory, old enough to have spoken with their last leader, Vrael, who paid tribute to me within these very walls. Few are still alive who can claim that much. I remember the riders and how they meddled in our affairs. I also remember the peace they kept that made it possible to walk unharmed from Tronjheim to Narda.

"And now you stand before me, a lost tradition revived. Tell me, and speak truly in this, why have you come to Farthen Dûr? I know of the events that made you flee the Empire, but what is your intent now?"

"If not for Ajihad's, and possibly your, interest in my and Arget's existence, I would have continued on to Ellesméra without thought. Arget and I are here only resting to swear our future cooperation to the Varden's cause. Once it is assured that we will return to aid the Varden in any way we can, we will be leaving for Du Weldenvarden to complete our training under the elves' tutelage."

"What drives you against the Empire?" the king asked, his eyes piercing. Yuna glanced back at Arget, wondering how truthful she should be with the king.

"In truth, I was not born in Alagaësia. I was born in a nation named Lairan, and trained as a mage in another called Emelan. When I first came to Alagaësia, unintentionally stolen from Emelan by Arya's spellwork, Eragon was the first to find me. He brought me to his home, where I was given shelter by his uncle and became friends with both he and his cousin. Soon after, Saphira and Arget hatched. When they were a month old, the Ra'zac came to Carvahall and brutally murdered Garrow. Later, riding through the plains south of Utgard, we came upon a town by the name of Yazuac. The entire village was taken to the center of town and slaughtered, the bodies piled in a mound with a baby's corpse at the top. That was my first experience with urgals. Later, as I learned that Galbatorix had actually made a deal with these creatures, I realized that they had already been under his control... I have no love for Galbatorix's rule. In my experience, he has spread only destruction, fear, and death across these lands. I will give everything I have- my magic, my sword, and my life if need be- to see him cast down from the throne."

Hrothgar seemed satisfied by Yuna's response. He turned to Arget.

"Dragon, what do you think in this matter? For what reasons have you come?"

Arget stared levelly up at the dwarf king. A low growl began to emanate from his chest.

Tell him that I have no mercy for traitors and egg breakers like the false king. From Brom's word, even now he has two of my brethren in his vaults. I await the day in which we may watch him burn and see my kind hatch, free of his tyranny. And that you will train until I see fit, for I will not allow our victory to be tainted by even a scratch on you.

Yuna relayed Arget's sentiments exactly. The corner of Hrothgar's mouth lifted in a hint of grim amusement.

"I see that dragons have not changed with the centuries." Hrothgar rapped his knuckles against his dark throne. "Do you know why this seat was quarried so flat and angular? So that no one would sit comfortably on it. I have not, and will relinquish it without regret when my time comes. What is there to remind you of your obligations, Yuna? If the Empire falls, will you take Galbatorix's place and claim his kingdom as your own?"

"If it were offered, I would refuse it. I am hardly an adult even by the standards of men. I have neither experience nor patience enough to competently guide a nation. Even if that were not the case, I would not take the crown. There would surely be more capable men or women able to pick up the pieces."

"Good," Hrothgar said gravely. "No race should have a leader who does not age or leave the throne. The time of the riders has passed, Yuna. They shall never rise again, even if the remaining eggs hatch."

Yuna only shrugged.

"We do not know where Arget's egg originated from. It is possible that there is an undiscovered clutch hidden away in the far reaches of Alagaësia."

"If Galbatorix has not found them in the past hundred years, it is unlikely that they will be found any time soon," Hrothgar said, shaking his head. "Now, as I understand, you requested use of a forge?"

"I did," Yuna nodded. "As you have likely heard, Eragon carries the blade of Morzan, Zar'roc. I've inspected the blade myself and, while it is unmatched by anything I've seen, I've sworn to forge him a new blade. Zar'roc has too bloody a past, too brutal a history. I fear that continuing to wield it garners only fear and distrust."

"That is a wise conclusion," Hrothgar agreed, his eyes narrowed slightly. "Ingeitum has the finest forges in these mountains. Ask, and you shall be taken to any one of them."

"Thank you," Yuna said, bowing her head respectfully.

"Has my nephew proved helpful during your time here?"

"Who?"

"Orik, my youngest sister's son," Hrothgar said, raising an eyebrow. "He's been serving under Ajihad to show my support for the Varden. It seems that he has been returned to my command, however. I was gratified to hear that you and the other rider defended him with your words."

"I couldn't ask for a better guide. He has been very attentive to our needs," Yuna smiled. Hrothgar seemed pleased.

"That is good. Unfortunately, I cannot speak for much longer, and I still must speak with the other rider. Though I will say this: if you wish to win the support of the dwarves within my realm, you must first prove yourself to them. We have long memories and do not rush to hasty decisions. Words will decided nothing, only deeds."

"I understand."

"You may go, then."

Yuna and Arget turned and strode from the dark hall, where Orik was still waiting with Eragon and Saphira were still waiting. Yuna noted that Orik wore an anxious expression on his face.

"Did all go well? Were you received favorably?"

"I think so. He seems to be a fine leader."

"He is cautious. That is how he has survived this long," Orik nodded, a guarded but fond tone in his voice that Yuna had not noticed before.

"He asked me to send Eragon and Saphira in," Yuna stated, turning to the other pair. Orik nodded before ushering them inside. Once the door closed behind the two, Orik turned to Yuna once again.

"After breakfast, I was planning on taking you and Eragon to Tronjheim's library, if you would like. It's quite old and contains many scrolls of great value. You may find it interesting to read a history of Alagaësia that hasn't been tainted by Galbatorix's hand."

"Eragon may like that," Yuna nodded. "But I was wondering if I could visit one of Ingeitum's forges. Hrothgar said that is was fine."

"Very well," Orik nodded. "I know a number of smiths who would be pleased to welcome you."

"Thank you."

"It is nothing," he insisted.

Soon enough, Eragon and Saphira came out of the throne room.

"Well? How did he like you?"

"I'm not sure," Eragon admitted. "He doesn't dislike me, at least."

Orik only shrugged before leading the small group back into the main of Tronjheim. Once the Isidar Mirthrim was above their heads was again, Orik spoke.

"Your blessing yesterday stirred up the Varden like an overturned beehive. The child Saphira touched has been hailed as a future hero. She and her guardian have been quartered in the finest rooms. Everyone is talking about your 'miracle'. All the human mothers seem intent on finding either of you and getting the same for their children."

"What would you have us do? We can't rescind a blessing," Yuna said, turning to face Orik.

"I would stay out of sight as much as possible. You will not be disturbed in the dragonhold, but there are no guarantees on the rest of Tronjheim."

"Could you take me to the forges after some breakfast? I have a sword to forge," Yuna said, smiling to Eragon. Eragon looked vaguely surprised.

"You really meant that?" he asked.

"Of course I did," Yuna said, rolling her eyes. "And I might need you there for the first part, so come with us."

Eragon had no argument so, after the dragons returned to the dragonhold, the trio grabbed a quick breakfast before venturing to the forges.

Before the fires had even come in sight, Yuna could feel their radiating heat and hear the metal singing. She took a deep breath, taking in every metal's individual scent. Orik watched with interest as she approached the nearest forge, greeting the smith. Eragon quickly figured out that he was out of his depth when the dwarf, in a very thick accent, began to talk rapidly with Yuna on the pros and cons of iron versus steel and the proper ways to forge anything from a sword to chain mail armor.

Yuna wandered through the forges, perfectly content to be back in her element. When she had walked through what felt like dozens of forges to Eragon, she eventually stopped. She stood a safe distance from a dwarf as he pulled a red hot piece of steel from a fire with a pair of tongs. The dwarf cursed under his breath when his grip on the tongs slipped and they fell into the fire.

"Here, let me," Yuna offered, reaching her hand into the flames. Orik, Eragon, and the other dwarf all shouted out in alarm until Yuna lowered both the tongs and the cherry-red steel onto the anvil and showed her palms to the three. "See? I'm fine."

"How did you do that?" Eragon asked, eyes wide. Yuna smiled broadly.

"It's a gift. I was apprenticed to a smithmage, remember?" she beamed.

"Argetlam," the other dwarf said in surprise.

She looked briefly at the smith before back at Orik. "Is there a forge I can use?"

"You can use my forge," the other dwarf said in a thick accent. Yuna smiled back at the dwarf.

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to interrupt anything, and I may need quite some time."

"It is mine honor, Argetlam," the small man insisted. Yuna smiled at him again, thanking him before whirling around to face Eragon.

"Give me Zar'roc, then hold out your right arm," she ordered. Eragon obeyed somewhat warily and Orik chuckled. Yuna tracked down a small measuring tape and measured the length of Eragon's arm from the tip of his middle finger to his shoulder.

"What are you doing?" he asked cautiously.

"Shh," she ordered. "How comfortable are you with Zar'roc?"

"What do you-"

"Does it feel like an extension of your arm?" Yuna clarified. Eragon thought carefully before responding.

"It can feel heavy at the end if I'm fighting in a long battle," he admitted. Yuna nodded, mumbling to herself as she turned away from him, scanning the metals the smith had catalogued against the far wall of his smithy. Yuna paced the neatly organized racks of metals, trying to determine the materials she would use. When she had finished deciding, she laid a number of metals onto a workbench.

"Those will not mix well," Orik commented from the forge's entrance. Yuna ignored him, concentrating. She centered herself at the fire and slowly built it up, hotter and hotter. When she was content, she returned to her metals, lifting each piece of copper, lead, and titanium to the light, examining them before placing each metal in the fire.

When each of the metals was cherry hot, Yuna turned to the trio.

"You may want to watch this... I don't know how difficult this will be, though, so Eragon, be ready to lend me some energy. I'd rather not collapse when I'm done," Yuna warned. Eragon drew closer, just as the dwarves drew near to watch.

Yuna closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, and felt out with her magic. She found the three metals immediately and, just as quickly, began to twist and mix the three metals together. Her hands braided the cherry metal before twisting it around and beginning anew, moving the thick wires of metal deftly so that it blended into a single rope of metal. When the metal began to cool, Yuna opened her eyes to see the metal and everyone's shock and impressed faces.

The metal that was rapidly cooling in her grip was not the silver-white of titanium, nor was it the ruddy-orange of copper, nor was it the metallic grey of lead. It was a pale silver, so pale it was nearly white.

"What did you do?" Orik asked, his voice soft as he stared at the metal.

"Smithmagic," Yuna grinned. She lifted the metal, which was more than she had expected to make. She had intended to mix only enough for Eragon's blade, but, by her reckoning, there was enough to forge two or three complete swords.

Yuna absently studied the metal's surface before sending her senses out to study the new material. It was light but felt stronger than she had anticipated.

"The alloy is lighter than I expected. It'll take some time to get used to, but you'll be able to swing it faster," Yuna murmured to Eragon. She placed the metal back in the fire and waited for it to heat up once more.

"Won't the metals separate?" Eragon asked. Yuna shook her head.

"They wouldn't dare," she chuckled.

While the alloy was reheating, Yuna brought the slack tub closer to the anvil. She glanced back at the metal. It was still not quite warm enough.

"Hmm... I have enough metal for more than one sword... Do you think I should replace Ilianar while I am here? This alloy is a lot stronger than what I used back in Carvahall," Yuna murmured. Eragon shrugged.

"If you are used to Ilianar, it is probably better to keep it."

"By that argument, you'd be carrying around a butchery tool for the rest of your life," Yuna reasoned quietly. Eragon's mouth twisted into a slight frown and Yuna raised her hand to the fire.

"Brisingr," she murmured. The flames roared to life, growing green as they grew higher. Yuna limited the magic to the spell quickly, cutting off the flames before they grew too large, forcing the spell to compact itself into a small but hot bed of glowing coals.

Content with the now red alloy, Yuna pulled the metal from the still-green coals. Yuna released the spell as she turned to the anvil, pulling out the dwarf smith's tools as she began to work the metal.

She divided the metal into the correct amount for a sword, estimating it against Zar'roc's build. She referenced the sword often in between heatings, making sure that she did not stray too far from the bloody blade's design. Whoever forged the blade definitely knew what they were doing.

As she worked, Yuna murmured to the metal in the ancient language, encouraging it to stay strong and sharp, to resist damage. Her knowledge of the ancient language was sadly limited, though, so the sword was by no means immune to damage.

Time passed and- somehow- word spread that one of the riders was working in the forges. A small crowd grew at the entrance to the forge, made mostly of dwarves, and intently watched as Yuna worked over the metal.

The crowd grew steadily as the hours grew long. Yuna barely noticed the passing of time though, absorbed by her work. Eragon and Orik did not leave, watching as the sword came out what was once three lumps of metal.

Yuna lowered the pale silver weapon into the slack tub once more before resting it against the anvil. She studied its still form before lifting it into her hands, testing its balance carefully.

It is done.

Yuna looked at the sword in her hand carefully, memorizing every detail of it. The blade itself was simple and nearly identical to Zar'roc's straight edge and point design. The blade was slightly wider as it drew close to the hilt. The hilt was made of carefully detailed black steel, grooved so that it perfectly fit Eragon's hands. The pommel was made of the same black steel, as was the crossguard, and contained a perfect diamond of blued steel.

Yuna, sword in hand, took a step from the anvil. She stepped closer to Eragon and held the sword out to him, hilt-first. He accepted it carefully, testing its weight himself. A smile soon grew on his face as he twisted his arm in the air.

"So?" Yuna asked in anticipation. Eragon grinned at her.

"Perfect," Eragon confirmed. Yuna, a broad smile on her face, turned to fetch Zar'roc.

"Then we can-"

Yuna was cut off as her vision clouded over once more.

She was startled to see that same battlefield.

Yuna was still falling, and watching herself as she fell, as if she were only a bystander. The were still black and red with flames and smoke. The cries of men bleeding and dying was echoing from beneath her as Arget swept his wings through the air on his way to catch her. The Yuna in the image held a silver sword in her hand and her green eyes were narrowed dangerously as she slashed out, still in freefall, towards a tall man with red hair and red eyes, standing atop a shadowy figure. The man only smiled cruelly, whipping his own thin sword up to parry the blow. There was a flash of sparks, and Arget appeared under her, his silver scales now hidden behind thick gold and black armor. The other Yuna scowled from the saddle and reached for her bow, which was situated at the side of Arget's saddle, and drew an arrow, aiming it towards her enemy with a fluid motion. It was too late, however, and the enemy had disappeared from her sight. She cursed under her breath in a language she now recognized as Dwarvish.

Her eyes searched for her opponent, but her search was fruitless. She scanned the battlefield, looking for someone. She breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted Eragon and Saphira, also wearing gold and black armor, battling on the ground amidst the urgals and men, both worse for wear but neither seriously wounded.

"Yuna!"

"Shut up," Yuna groaned. She heard a collective sigh of relief and she opened her eyes, shutting them when a light invaded her vision. She opened her eyes more slowly, blinking the light away, and found herself laying down on the ground of the forge.

"What is it?" Eragon asked, his voice sharp. Yuna shook her head, glancing behind Eragon to see two dozen dwarves and a handful of men still at the entrance of the forge, stopped only by Orik as he demanded they stay back.

Yuna took a deep breath before forcing herself to her feet.

"I'm fine," she said automatically. "Orik, I need to see Ajihad as soon as possible. There are lives on the line. Or they will be."

There was a difference between the first time she saw this vision and now. First off, Yuna could feel time closing in. This vision would come to pass soon. They had days, at the most, before it became a reality.

But that was not the extent of her realization.

This time, she recognized the location of the battlefield.

She was fighting over Farthen Dûr, just outside of the city-mountain that had become the Varden's refuge.

Chapter Text

"Orik said that you needed to see me immediately." Ajihad said as Yuna entered the man's study, closely followed by Eragon, Saphira, and Arget. Ajihad's voice was sharp and cautious. "What is it?"

"The urgals. They are coming. They will be here in days, a week if we are very very lucky," Yuna said, not sparing time for pleasantries. Ajihad looked surprised, but hide it well.

"How are you certain?"

"Months ago I received a premonition. I was fighting from Arget's back over a battlefield. Now, after hearing Arya's tale, I know that it is the Shade Durza that I was battling. The ground below was a mess of death and war. There were fires everywhere and smoke hid the sky. Earlier today, just as I finished Eragon's new sword, I had this premonition again. But this time I recognized it. The battlefield was Farthen Dûr."

"How are you sure of the time of attack?"

"If you are asking for proof, I have none. But I could feel it. I think there was more to the vision, but Eragon snapped me out of it before it was done. If I had to guess, we have between four and nine days. And that is a very vague guess," Yuna said, pausing for a moment to look at Eragon. The male rider looked at the ground ashamedly.

Ajihad leaned back in his chair.

"This is troubling news... We must prepare at once. The elven spellcasters are already on their way, but it is a long journey from Du Weldenvarden," Ajihad mused.

"What would you have Eragon and I do?" Yuna asked. Ajihad looked at them, his gaze piercing.

"For now, there is little you can do. Both of you must still be tested before Jörmundur and I can decided how best to utilize you in the coming battle. Go to the training fields tomorrow morning. Once you are tested, wait in the dragonhold for my summons."

"But we have so little time-" Eragon began. Ajihad waved his hand, silencing him.

"You may think that, but we have more time to prepare than we could have hoped for. The urgals attacking us will think they still have the element of surprise, which they might if not for this vision," Ajihad said calmly. "Orik, alert Hrothgar to the danger and request that he see me immediately."

Orik nodded his head and Ajihad fixed his eyes on the three, studying them.

"Dismissed."

The three bowed to the leader of the Varden before obeying, walking from the room. Orik began to lead the two riders out of Tronjheim so that they could return to the dragonhold, but was stopped when Yuna came to a sudden halt.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice unsure and urgent.

"I need to go back to the forges," Yuna said, remembering every detail of the vision. "In my vision, I had a silver sword, not a black one."

"So you think that you have to forge a new weapon from that alloy you made?" Orik guessed. Yuna nodded. "Very well, but there will be many people there now. Word has inevitably spread of your episode."

"It doesn't matter. As long as they wait outside the forge I will be able to work," Yuna said, shaking her head. Orik sighed quietly but nodded.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" Eragon asked in a low voice. Yuna looked up at and was surprised to see the concern in his eyes. She shook her head slowly.

"I will be fine. I've never experienced two visions in one day."

"Very well," he said somewhat reluctantly. Yuna smiled at him.

"I'll be fine," she repeated. "Go keep Arget and Saphira company."

Eragon was left at the gates to Tronjheim and Orik led Yuna into the depths of the city-mountain once more.

"Argetlam!" voices echoed as soon as she entered the section of the city dedicated to smithies. There was an edge of concern to many of the voices but Yuna paid them no heed as she walked back to the forge she had worked in earlier. Orik forced the dwarves and humans to maintain a distance around her and they obeyed, albeit reluctantly.

Yuna entered the forge and sighed in relief as the heat from the fire rolled over her face. The dwarf smith stiffened in shock before bombarding Yuna with a series of questions in a guttural language later identified as Dwarvish. Orik calmed the man and asked, in human tongue, if Yuna could utilize his forge once more. He replied eagerly, nodding his head.

"Thank you; this really means a lot," Yuna thanked earnestly. The dwarf pushed her thanks away and went to the entrance of his forge to watch with the rest of the smiths.

Yuna drew Ilianar from its sheath and studied it fondly.

Ilianar had serviced her well since she had crafted it in Carvahall in Horst's forge. She had hid it when she feared Garrow would try to sell it. She had carried it against Arget's wishes as they traveled to Therinsford. With it she had defended herself against both urgals and men. With it she had made her first kill.

She placed Ilianar down, leaving herself room to work with. She spared the black sword a glance before fetching what remained of her pale silver alloy.

She went through the process again, shaping the metal under her hands.

Time flew as the sword began to form out of the misshapen lump of alloy, growing sharp and deadly.

Yuna took more liberties when forging her own weapon. While Eragon's blade was almost plain aside from the basic etchings and grooves that went into nearly all of Yuna's work, the new sword bore a etching of a rose vine. The flower rested just above the crossguard and its petals fanned out towards the sharp edges. The vine itself was lined with large thorns that stretched towards the edge of the blade. Leaves occasionally interrupted the pattern of thorns, breaking the threat of monotony. The design was repeated on the other side of the blade as well.

The cross guard was a braid of metals glinting in the firelight. The braid of gold, silver, and copper widened before narrowing into blunt tips. Each cord of metal bore carefully carved leaves.

Blackened steel was carefully poured into the carvings, highlighting them against the silver, gold, and copper of the blade and crossguard.

The hilt was simple and made to compliment Yuna's hand-and-a-half fighting style. It was made of the same blackened steel used to detail the rose vine and contained flecks of the silvery alloy used to craft the blade.

The pommel was similarly plain and, after much deliberation, Yuna took the purple stone from her hand-made ring and set it into the heart of the pommel. The gem glinted in the light as she lifted the completed sword. A plain sheath made of the silvery alloy rested on the anvil, ready to be belted onto her person.

"Now it just needs a name," Yuna murmured to herself, smiling. She twisted the sword around, whirling gracefully as she fought an imagine enemy. She paused and straightened. "Arian...

"It is finished," she announced proudly. Orik stood from where he had taken a seat on the floor. He stretched, smiling broadly under his beard.

"Good. Now, we should fetch Eragon and get something to eat," he recommended. Yuna nodded and sheathed both Airgid and Ilianar. The two left the forges, once more thanking the dwarf for allowing her to use his forge. As thanks, Yuna left what was left of her alloy to the dwarf. His eyes were lit with a happy eagerness as Yuna and Orik walked out of sight.

Eragon came down from the dragonhold and they ate a quick dinner.

Exhausted by her day, the two swords, and the premonition, Yuna had trouble staying awake as Arget landed in the dragonhold.

She distantly noted Eragon helping her settle into the bed beside Arget. She mumbled a goodnight and the male rider turned, leaving for his own bed. There was a smile on both of their faces as sleep overtook them.

Chapter Text

Yuna... Yuna...

Arget's voice sounded through Yuna's mind. She yawned, stretching as she woke.

What is it? she grumbled tiredly. Arget chuckled, the sound reverberating throughout the marble cave.

There is a female here to speak to you. She said that it was important that she see both you and Eragon. She is waking Eragon now.

M'kay... I'm up, Yuna yawned. She stood, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. From her place on her bed, she could see that the central chamber of the dragonhold was lit with a gentle twilight. Early morning, she decided.

Yuna strapped Arian to her hip and double checked that her daggers were still in place. She braided her hair back quickly, making a note to cut it before the battle. It was nothing more than a nuisance at its current length.

Content with her appearance, Yuna left the cave, closely followed by Arget. She jumped down from the cave's mouth and strode to the center of the Isidar Mirthrim to await Eragon, Saphira, and the woman who came to speak to them.

She was not left to wait very long.

A young woman, not much older than her own seventeen years of age, smiled brightly at Yuna as she walked to greet her. Her white teeth contrasted starkly with her dark skin, which Yuna noted was the same shade as Ajihad's. She wore a red wine dress made of velvet and elegantly cut. A jeweled dagger hung from her waist, resting in a leather sheath. She had warm almond-shaped eyes, round cheekbones, and wide lips.

"Good morning, Rider Yuna," she said charmingly, curtsying gracefully. "I am Nasuada."

"Sorry to have kept you waiting," Yuna smiled. "Arget said that you wanted to speak to Eragon and I."

"I did," Nasuada nodded politely.

Eragon soon appeared from his quarters and moved to stand beside Yuna.

"Eragon, meet Nasuada," Yuna introduced. Eragon nodded and the dark skinned young woman smiled charmingly once more.

"My father, Ajihad, sent me here with a message. Would you like to hear it?"

"Please," Yuna said lightly.

"He has made contact with Queen Islanzadí's spellcasters. They are due to arrive in thirteen days if their journey goes well. He also wished me to remind you to meet Orik at the gates of Tronjheim to proceed to the training fields for your testing."

"Did you climb all the way up here just to tell me that?" Eragon asked, clearing thinking of Vol Turin's length. Nasuada shook her head.

"I used the pulley system that transports goods to the upper levels. We could have sent the message with signals, but I decided to bring it myself and meet you in person."

"I would invite you to sit, but I'm afraid that we have somewhere else to be," Yuna said apologetically. Nasuada only laughed.

"I understand, of course. I am also expected elsewhere."

Ask the female if she would like to be taken back to Tronjheim's gates, Arget said. Yuna looked at Arget in surprise but relayed the offer.

"I thank you, Great Dragon, but you do not have to trouble yourself. I shall be fine," Nasuada said, bowing her head to Arget and then Saphira respectfully. She curtsied to Eragon and Yuna once more before disappeared out of the dragonhold.

"She seems nice," Yuna noted once Ajihad's daughter had vanished from sight.

"There must have been more to this meeting than news. Ajihad was going to send for us after we've been tested; it wouldn't have been much of a difference to tell us of the elves then. And we already knew to go to the training fields," Eragon said reasonably.

Yuna nodded but didn't say anything further as she climbed to Arget's back. Eragon clambered onto Saphira's back and they were off.

"An unusual girl," was Orik's first response when asked about Nasuada. They had scarcely landed when Eragon had asked the dwarf about the young woman. "She's totally devoted to her father and spends all her time helping him. I think she does more for Ajihad than he knows. There have been times when she's maneuvered his enemies without ever revealing her part in it."

"Who's her mother?" Yuna asked curiously.

"That I don't know. Ajihad was alone when he brought Nasuada to Farthen Dûr as a newborn child. He's never said where he and Nasuada came from."

"Where are the training fields?" Eragon asked. Orik pointed ahead of them, away from Tronjheim.

"They are half a mile from Tronjheim, though you can't see it from here. It is behind the city-mountain. It's a large area where both dwarves and humans hone their skills. We shall eat and then go."

The riders' first impression of the training fields was the unruly clang of steel striking steel, the solid thump of arrows as they hit distant targets. Men and dwarves alike shouted out in mock battle.

With news of the impending attack, the training fields were nearly filled with men getting in last minute practice. Everything was chaotic, but there was also a wordless order to it. Dwarves and humans stuck mainly to themselves, sparring and wrestling in pairs and groups wherever there was room. Lines of archers fired steadily at cloth dummies.

Just as soon as the five- Eragon, Saphira, Yuna, Arget, and Orik- entered the training fields, a bearded man stepped forward to greet them. He was armored in a mail coif and a thick ox hide suit. A massive sword, nearly five and a half feet in length, was hung across his back. He studied both riders and dragons quickly before turning to Orik.

"Knurla Orik. You've been gone too long. There's nobody left for me to spar with," he greeted in a gruff voice. Orik smiled.

"Oeí, that's because you bruise everyone from head to toe with your monster sword."

"Everyone except you," the man corrected.

"That's because I'm faster than a giant like you."

The man laughed at Orik's comment before turning back to Eragon and Yuna.

"I'm Fredric. I've been told to find out what you can do. How strong are you?"

"Strong enough," was Eragon's answer. "I have to be in order to fight with magic."

"And you?" Fredric asked, appraising Yuna.

"I am as strong as I've ever needed to be, and I've worked in forges and fields all my life before I started with magic," she answered casually.

"That's good. Magic has no place in what we do here. Unless you've served in an army, I doubt any fights you've been in lasted more than a few minutes. What we're concerned about is how you'll be able to hold up in a battle that may drag on for hours, or even weeks if it's a siege. Do either of you know how to use any weapons other than a sword or bow?"

"I throw daggers," Yuna offered.

"Only my fists," Eragon shrugged.

"Good answer!" Fredric laughed. "Well, we'll start the two of you off with the bow and see how you do. Rider Yuna, we can see how your aim is with your daggers. By then, some space will have cleared so we can determine how you fare with a sword."

Pleased with his plan, Fredric led the two to the archery range and had them fire off two dozen arrows as quickly and accurately as possible.

Once they arrows had all been loosed, Fredric stepped forward to examine the results against the cloth dummies.

"Not bad," he called back to the two riders. "Rider Eragon, do not be afraid to shoot for the kill. Your enemies will not be looking to merely wound." Eragon's jaw tightened slightly but he nodded, taking the advice with a grain of salt.

Fredric moved the two to a much smaller range, one that was nearly deserted.

"This is where people practice knife-throwing. It's not a common skill since you can't usually get your weapon back to attack again, so the few throwers we have here usually practice swordplay as well.

"But you don't care about numbers. Let me see your daggers," Fredric ordered. Yuna took both of her blades out and held them out for the bearded man to examine. "They are in decent condition... Where did you get these?"

"I made them myself," Yuna shrugged. "Why?"

Fredric looked thoughtful as he rolled one of the daggers in his hand.

"It's weighted differently than most daggers I've seen. Most daggers are either for stabbing or throwing, but yours are weighted so that they can be either... Anyway, try to hit the target!" Fredric said suddenly, his voice growing loud.

Yuna glanced back at Orik and Eragon and the male rider nodded encouragingly. Yuna lifted one of the daggers to eye level before drawing back and letting the blade fly. She repeated the process and let the dagger fly from her hand.

Fredric went to examine the target and paused as he drew the knives from the cloth body. He returned to the small group, a broad smile on his face.

"I wouldn't want to be on the other end of your knives," he said cheerfully. "Two kill-shots; one between the eyes and the other straight in the heart."

"Like the urgal in Yazuac," Eragon remembered. Yuna smiled dully, remembering the first time she had used magic. At Orik and Fredric's curious expressions, Eragon retold the tale. Fredric was impressed, Yuna knew, but not overly so, which she appreciated. He didn't feel the need to gawk over two dead urgals.

He had them moved to the center of the training fields, where a patch of grass wide enough for a pair to spar had opened up.

"Stop!" a voice shouted out. Yuna turned, a smile on her face as Arya melted from the crowd. The warriors ceased their sparring as Arya strode forward, to the heart of the clearing. In complete silence, they formed a large circle around the group, giving them a wide berth.

"Atra esterní ono thelduin," Yuna greeted, placing her fingers on her lips. Arya looked faintly surprised at the use of the greeting but replied in turn.

"Mor'ranr lífaunin hjarta onr, Yuna Shur'tugal," Arya continued. Eragon followed suit, beginning the greeting anew. When it was finished, Arya looked between Yuna and Eragon.

"I claim the right of trial by arms," she announced in a clear voice. "Draw your sword."

Her eyes rested on Eragon and the young rider stepped forward somewhat warily. Eragon was a fierce opponent to any mortal man but, as he knew from their spars, he was hardly a match for Arya. Even so, he drew his new blade.

"For the record, I've never used this sword in a fight," Eragon said, glancing back to Yuna. His comment earned a few laughs from the gathered crowd, but the rest were silent as Arya drew her sword with her left hand. Eragon drew his new blade and narrowed his eyes, studied Arya just as she studied him.

And with a flash of movement, their blades met in a shower of sparks. Yuna was unsurprised to see Eragon on the defensive. Eragon pushed back, sliding the elven blade away with some effort and ducking to avoid a blow aimed at his neck.

As some of the men and dwarves' eyes widened, the battle got faster paced as the two opponents fell into a steady dance of strikes and parries. At times they nearly touched, but there was never contact. The only evidence that they were making any form of contact was the occasional burst of sparks or metallic clanging as their swords met.

The fight continued, never ceasing or slowing as Eragon was forced to twist his knowledge and experience into complex forms through which he avoided the sharp edge of Arya's blade. It was clear that she was his better, but Eragon was never very far behind.

Then the two froze in place.

Yuna smirked to see that, once again, Eragon had Arya's sword resting at his jaw. Eragon's somewhat startled expression melted into resignation.

"You have improved," Arya said quietly as the men began cheering raucously. She raised her voice as her eyes turned to Yuna.

"That was incredible swordsmanship! I even learned some new moves from watching the two of you. And the elf- stunning!"

"We are not yet finished. Yuna. Step forward," Arya commanded. Yuna obeyed willingly, exchanging a nod with Eragon as he stepped to the edge of the circle.

"Well, looks like the alloy is stable enough for battle," Yuna laughed. As she drew Arian, she heard a quiet voice from behind her that made her smile.

"Watch them closely. Yuna has been practicing with Arya much longer than I have. She is probably better than me," Eragon admitted unashamedly to Fredric and Orik. Yuna could feel eyes boring into her back, but she ignored it as Arya switched hands.

"You are fighting with your right hand? I'm honored," Yuna chuckled. Arya did not comment, choosing instead to shift closer to the ground, anchoring her center of balance. Yuna smirked at the move but prepared herself for the coming onslaught.

The two watched each other, neither moving. They stood there, each watching and waiting for the other to move first. The crowd of men and dwarves did not make a sound.

Yuna took a deep breath as Arya's eyes narrowed ever so slightly and lifted her sword over her head horizontally, blocking the blow before it was even begun. Yuna ducked down as the sparks flew, spinning and rolling out from under Arya's sword. She raised her sword once more as she straightened, blocking yet another blow.

"Saw it that time," Yuna said, grinning broadly. Arya's gaze did not falter as she stared into Yuna's face. Green eyes met green and the two jumped apart once more.

Yuna studied the environment, looking for something she could use. The grass was perfectly level, no rocks or hollows in which she could force Arya to trip.

I guess this is skill alone, Yuna murmured to Arget.

I have faith, Arget said proudly. He growled, but the sound was encouraging for the female rider.

Yuna's mouth set into a determined line at the sound and she rushed forward, hitting the ground in a slid. Arya leapt up to avoid Yuna's blade as she brought it around to cut her legs out from under her. Yuna flipped to her feet once more and dashed to Arya's side, carefully sending Arian out. As expected, Arya parried the blow easily before twisting her sword through the air, launching a slash at Yuna's other side. Yuna shifted her weight to her other foot and twisted Arian closer to her.

A loud clang assaulted the air. The crowd stared at the two, their eyes wide with amazement. Yuna stood just in front of Arya, nearly touching her with her back to the elf. Arian was held in both of her hands just above her shoulders and angled downward to shield her right side. Arya's blade was perpendicular to the rider's sword in a blow that would have had most men's arms shaking. Even so, the silvery alloy of Arian released a high pitched keening sound as the force reverberated throughout the metal. Yuna's head was turned to the left, her eyes meeting Arya's over her shoulder.

Yuna looked at the elf for the briefest moment and her lips quirked up into a grin before she kicked out at an angle, catching the side of Arya's right knee. Arya stumbled for half a second before recovering, raising her sword to block Yuna's downward cleave.

Arya's eyes lit up with a touch of determination and Yuna's heart sank slightly, knowing what would come next. Her mood was not helped by the burn that slowly began edging into her shoulder from wielding Arian. Arya pushed against Arian without warning, sending Yuna back as if she weighed nothing. Yuna caught herself before she fell to the ground but the damage was done as she was forced to a knee. Arya whirled around and swung her blade out. Yuna did not move as the steel rested under her jaw, just as it did Eragon's.

Yuna looked up at Arya, her face devoid of emotion until a smile broke loose. She dug Arian into the ground, pushing herself up as Arya lowered her blade.

The men were still silent.

"You have progressed greatly since Gil'ead," Arya said, a touch of pride to her voice. She nodded to Yuna, a small smile on her face before her face turned into a mask. Her facade set, Arya whirled around and walked away, the crowd melting away in her path.

Yuna heard Fredric and Orik praise her skill but Yuna would hear none of it.

"Eragon," Yuna called. Eragon turned and paused warily as a mischievous light entered Yuna's eyes. "You said that I was probably better. I'll challenge that."

"Come on, you must be tired from that," Eragon said wearily. Yuna raised an eyebrow.

"Are you afraid of a little competition? Or you don't want to be beaten by a girl," Yuna taunted playfully. One of the men in the crowd, which had not yet disbanded, catcalled loudly and the men began shouting out and cheering. "Is that it, Mr. Dragon Rider?"

Eragon shook his head but stepped back inside the circle. He drew his sword and took a deep breath.

"Relax," Yuna said, amused. "Do you want to guard the blades, or would you prefer sparring with sharpened swords?"

"It doesn't matter. I doubt either of us will be able to land a solid blow," Eragon said, shrugging.

"Loser has to heal any injuries, then," Yuna decided. Eragon thought about it for a moment before nodding, accepting the terms. Yuna smiled in anticipation, shifting into her stance. Eragon got ready similarly.

And they watched each other.

A minute past, then two, and still nothing had happened.

Just as three minutes began ticking away, Yuna dashed forward, feinting to the right before slashing down at Eragon's left calf. Eragon saw through the ploy easily and sidestepped the blow. He raised his sword in a sweeping slash but he was too far for it to land in time. Yuna ducked below and laid herself flat, her sword held out above her as she kicked out. She caught Eragon's ankles and spun out, bringing him to a knee as she stood. She switched Arian to her left hand and launched a swift slash towards Eragon neck. Eragon dropped flat against the ground, by now used to Yuna's tactics. He used one of her own moves against her, rolling out of the way and sweeping her legs out from under her. Yuna saw through the move and jumped into the air to avoid the kick. Eragon got to his feet cautiously and Yuna slowed to a stop just outside his range.

"Switched to your left hand?" Eragon chuckled as he circled Yuna. She smiled.

"That last blow from Arya left my arm shaking," she admitted, shrugging. "I remember when Brom first started training us... I bet I would have dropped my sword if we were trained that hard from the beginning."

"That, or break your wrist," Eragon agreed. Yuna laughed under her breath.

"Yes... I seem to remember being told that you broke your wrist on the way to Dras-Leona," Yuna commented teasingly. Eragon grimaced.

"That was different," he defended. Yuna grinned.

"Yeah... I've heard that rock climbing can be very- dangerous!" Yuna shouted, rushing forward. Eragon swept his sword up to parry the blow and Yuna let herself be brushed to his right side. She swung her right arm out , striking him in the ribs. Eragon exhaled sharply and Yuna took advantage of the moment. She turned sharply so that she was right behind Eragon and stepped very close to him, knocking his knees out from under him. Yuna fell to a knee as Eragon stumbled downwards, his knees unable to support his weight. She carefully pulled his hair back with her right hand, exposing his neck as Arian came down in a slow and controlled arc. The metal stopped just before it touched his skin and Yuna chuckled in his ear.

"I win," she whispered as the crowd began a frenzied jumble of cheers and laments based on who each person had been privately hoping to win. Eragon laughed nervously and Yuna's smile broadened. She rested her head against his right shoulder so that she could see his face. He was warily looking at Arian with distaste.

An emotion suddenly welled up within Yuna and, before her nerve could fail or her sense could catch up, she kissed him on the cheek.

Suddenly very aware of what she had done, and how many people had seen, Yuna whipped Arian away from Eragon's neck and stood in a fluid motion. Eragon fell back slightly as Yuna strode to Arget, trying to force down the ever encroaching blush.

Well, that was- Arget began, his voice amused as Yuna dashed onto his back.

Please. Just fly.

Hearing the desperation in his rider's voice, Arget obeyed without question, pushing up from the ground and taking to the air.

As they flew away, Yuna could hear Orik laugh. Her last view of the training fields was of Eragon, finally getting to his feet in the center of the dispersing circle.

I cannot believe I did that! Yuna lamented from her bed. She was lying facedown in the blankets, half-wishing for them to just devour her.

Seeing her thoughts, Arget chuckled, highly amused by the situation Yuna had landed herself into.

Isn't that how humans display affection?

Yes- I mean, it is, but-

Then why is it that problematic? You like him, and-

I do not!

Yes you do, Arget said, his voice teasing.

Oh, could you please be serious! Yuna groaned. Arget laughed, the sound echoing through their shared cave. It's not funny!

That is not what I'm laughing at, Arget said, the humor still evident in his voice. According to Saphira, Eragon is now a 'useless gibbering mess of a two-leg'.

Well she picked him!

As I picked you, friend-of-my-heart. But all will be well. You like him and I am certain he finds you pleasing-

What does that even mean? Yuna groaned again, flipping over onto her back. Arget's head turned to Yuna and he did the dragon equivalent of raising an eyebrow. The effect was humorous, but got his point across.

Yuna's thoughts slowed as she stared blankly at the marble ceiling, studying its rough surface. After a few minutes of pointless examination, her thoughts began to take an apprehensive edge. In response, Arget began radiating as many comforting thoughts and images as he could. The effect was immediate, but not as thorough as he would have liked.

What is wrong, little one? What do you fear? he asked in a soft voice. Yuna sighed, turning on her side to face Arget.

I don't know...

If it is rejection, you are a fool, he snorted. You mean much to him. He will realize it, if he hasn't already. But do not be mistaken. If he hurts you, I shall rip him to pieces.

Arget growled to back his words and Yuna smiled tiredly.

Not if you want to get on Saphira's good side, she teased. Arget's thoughts grew irritated and he grumbled to himself, shifting so that she could not see his eyes.

I am glad to see that you feel better, he said gruffly.

Chapter Text

Their summons came and the two riders and dragons were led back to Ajihad's study. Not a single word was spoken between them, something that was not left unnoticed by the young man sent to fetch them.

He left them at the door to the study, where two burly guards opened the large door. Inside was Arya, Orik, a man with wiry arms, and Ajihad himself, studying a map.

"Good, Eragon, Yuna, you're here. Meet Jörmundur, my second in command."

The two acknowledged the man before turning their attention to Ajihad.

"I summoned the seven of you here because we are in grave danger. After further investigation into Yuna's vision," Ajihad said in a strong voice, gesturing to Yuna, "we have discovered that there is an army of urgals and kull on their way here at this very moment."

There was silence in the study. Most had faith in the accuracy of Yuna's premonitions. After all, that was how she had found Arya.

"How long do we have until they reach Farthen Dûr?" Jörmundur asked, his voice grim.

"I have estimated two days," Ajihad replied. Yuna looked up at him.

"So the other elves will not be here in time to assist in the battle... Not unless we managed to drag it out as long as possible," she reasoned. Ajihad shook his head.

"A long battle is our best chance if we could hope for assistance. With the urgals having access to the tunnels, though, an extended battle could be our undoing. Even so, without knowing the exact size of the forces attacking us, we cannot plan an effective defense."

"I doubt that Galbatorix sent his own men to augment the urgal troops. At least, there weren't any men assisting the urgals in my vision," Yuna commented. Jörmundur shook his head.

"We cannot count on that. It is possible that his men are placed behind the urgals, and you only saw the beginning of this battle."

"It's possible," Yuna said, her voice sharper than she meant, "but enough time had passed for the urgals to invade nearly up to Tronjheim which, as you know, is a four and a half mile march. Also, both Eragon and I were not unscathed. We wouldn't have amassed such injuries in a matter of minutes."

Silence fell over the group once more and attention turned to Ajihad.

"I have sent runners to both the elves and Orrin with news of the impending attack. At the very least, they won't be caught by surprise if we fall... I have talked with Hrothgar as well, and we've decided on a course of action. Our only hope is to contain the urgals in three of the larger tunnels and channel them into Farthen Dûr so they don't swarm inside Tronjheim like locusts.

"I need you, Eragon, Yuna, and Arya, to help the dwarves collapse the extraneous tunnels. The job is too big for normal means. Two groups of dwarves are already working on it: one outside Tronjheim, the other beneath it. Eragon and Yuna, you're to work with the group outside. Arya, you'll be with the one underground. Orik will guide you to them."

"Why not collapse all the tunnels instead of leaving the large ones untouched?" Eragon asked.

"Because," Orik began, "that would force the urgals to clear away the rubble and they might decide to go in a direction we don't want them to. Plus, if we cut ourselves off, they could attack other dwarf cities- which we wouldn't be able to assist in time."

"There is also another reason. Hrothgar warned me that Tronjheim sits on such a dense network of tunnels that if too many are weakened, sections of the city will sink into the ground under their own weight. We can't risk that."

Jörmundur listened intently.

"So there won't be any fighting within Tronjheim? You said the urgals would be channeled outside the city, into Farthen Dûr."

"That's right. We can't defend Tronjheim's entire perimeter- it's too large for our forces- so we're going to seal all the passageways and gates leading into it. That will force the urgals out onto the flats surrounding Tronjheim, where there's plenty of maneuvering room for our armies. Unfortunately, as long as the urgals have access to the tunnels, we will be in constant danger of them quarrying up through Tronjheim's floor. If that happens, we'll be trapped, attack from both the outside and the inside."

Then let's hope they don't figure that out, Yuna murmured to Arget. The dragon's sides rumbled with a muffled laughter.

"We have to prevent the urgals from taking Tronjheim. If they secure it, it's doubtful we will have the strength to roust them," Ajihad finished.

"And what of our families? I won't see my wife and son murdered by urgals," Jörmundur said. The lines on Ajihad's face deepened.

"All the women and children are being evacuated into the surrounding valleys. If we are defeated, they have guides who will take them to Surda. That's all I can do, under the circumstances."

As Jörmundur struggled to hide his relief, Yuna's thoughts turned to Nasuada. Orik had said that she was completely devoted to her father. She would not appreciate being forced away from him when he might need her.

"Is Nasuada going as well?" she asked.

"She is not pleased, but yes," Ajihad nodded. "The urgals will arrive in a few short days. We know their numbers are great, but we must hold Farthen Dûr. Failure will be the dwarves' downfall, death to the Varden, and eventual defeat for Surda and the elves. This is one battle we cannot lose. Now go and complete your tasks! I will call for you once more before the urgals arrive; do not squander your time until then. For now, do your best to keep up morale. Dismissed!"

They obeyed, scattering to various parts of the city-mountain.

As Yuna walked down one of Tronjheim's main halls, walking out of the marble city, she noted that everyone was acting in a frenzied, but somehow controlled, chaos. People deliberated what they could take with them from the city, some were saying goodbyes to loved ones- fathers, husbands, and sons who would be fighting in the coming battle.

Yuna's peck on the cheek was all but forgotten, pushed out of the way by the awaited battle. He had been in fights before and had killed as well, but never did he have the opportunity to anticipate the event. It was always action and reaction. But now, being forced to wait, he was filled with dread.

Yuna's thoughts were similar, but she didn't fear as much for her own safety. She doubted that whatever gift she was given would show her death. She instead feared for the safety of those around her. Namely...

Her eyes went unbidden to Eragon, who walked ahead of her, flanked by Saphira. While she was still not quite certain of her feelings for the other rider, she knew she did not want any harm to come to him.

They exited the city-mountain without consequence and took to the air to search for the group of dwarves they were due to assist. Saphira and Arget glided around the city until they spotted a group of dwarves, hard at work with pickaxes. The two dragons landed quietly, startling the dwarves. Eragon quickly explained why they were sent.

"There's a tunnel about four yards directly beneath us. Any help you could give us would be appreciated," a dwarf said.

"If you clear the area over the tunnel, I'll see what I can do," Eragon nodded. The dwarf looked doubtful but ordered the others to back away.

"Could you show me to the next tunnel while Eragon works on this one? I can collapse just as many as he can," Yuna said, smiling. The dwarf looked ever dubious but led Yuna to the next tunnel. She situated herself at the edge of the tunnel's width and took a deep breath. "Thrysta deloi," she murmured.

Tendrils of her power entered the rock. Her inner smithmage immediately began to identify every ore in the stone that she could find. She searched downward, looking for the emptiness of the tunnel. When she found it, she began pushing against the miniscule faults in the tunnel's ceiling. The unrefined ores in the rock obeyed her happily, forcing the rock's fault lines to widen and stretch.

The surface did not betray the work occurring in the rock. It was difficult work, but Yuna kept at it. Before long, a resounding crack echoed in the air. There was a persistent grinding sound and the ground suddenly sank downwards, filling in what was once a passageway.

In the near distance, Yuna could hear a similar sound as Eragon succeeded in collapsing his tunnel.

The delighted dwarves led both riders to the next two tunnels, leaving the others to build up a wall of rubble that further blocked the tunnel.

This continued late into the day and, when they were finished, both riders were nearly exhausted from the effort. Yuna's work was helped by her familiarity with metals and mining, an education forced upon her by Frostpine, but there was always another tunnel to be buried. At the end of the day, Eragon, helped by Saphira, had collapsed seven tunnels and Yuna had collapsed another eight with Arget's assistance.

The four returned to the gates of Tronjheim, where tents were being set up for the troops that would be stationed there. The Varden and the dwarves' troops were divided into three battalions. Ajihad led one to the west, Hrothgar to the east, and Jörmundur to the south. Each battalion bore the Varden's standard: a white dragon holding a rose above a downward pointing sword on a field of purple. Dwarves bore the crest of their clan on round shields. Men darted to and fro, carting various weapons to a specific tent or shouting messages.

Yuna felt lost in the activity. This battle was on a much larger scale than anything she had ever experienced. The most she had fought, and won against, was but a dozen men. Even then, they had underestimated her. The coming urgals were warriors and brutes. They would not be hesitant to attack, nor would they show mercy.

Orik melted from the crowd, a broad grin on his face.

"There you are!" he called, still approaching. "Ajihad wants you to join the army tonight. There are no more tunnels to cave in. Now, come. Food is waiting for all four of you."

Orik led them to a tent, where there was bread, fruit, and water for Eragon and Yuna and a fresh deer for Saphira and Arget. They ate hungrily, famished from the use of magic.

When they were finished, Orik bid them to wait. He soon returned, leading a long line of dwarves. The dwarves were all carrying large pieces of plate armor tinged black and detailed with gold. Yuna looked at it, eyes widened in surprise.

"Dragon armor," she said as Orik landed a piece to Eragon to examine. Eragon looked at her, an eyebrow raised, and she explained quickly. "Both Saphira and Arget were wearing this the second time I saw the battle."

Mollified, Eragon turned to Orik as he began to talk.

"A gift from Hrothgar," Orik began, looking pleased. "They have lain among our treasuries for so long that they were almost forgotten. These were forged in another age, before the fall of the riders. Complete sets are rare because they took so long to make and because dragons were always growing but neither Saphira nor Arget are too big yet, so they should fit reasonably well."

What do you think? Yuna asked. Arget sniffed the metal.

I've seen it in your vision... It will slow me down, but it would be help keep the arrows off of me while I fly.

"I brought you armor as well, though it took much searching to find your size," Orik said to Eragon. "We rarely forge arms for men or elves. I don't know who this was made for, but it has never been used and should serve you well."

Orik helped Eragon into the armor to see how it fit.

Over Eragon's head went a leather backed mail shirt that fell to his knees. It was heavy, but the weight was bearable though it clinked when he moved. He belted his new blade, named Saoirse, over it, which stopped it from swinging as he walked. On his head went a leather cap, then a mail coif, and lastly a gold and silver helm. Bracers were strapped onto his forearms and greaves were secured on his lower legs. Mail backed gloves went on his hands and one arm bored a broad shield emblazed with an oak tree.

Orik and Yuna stepped back.

"Not bad," Yuna judged carefully. Orik turned to her before fetching another pile of armor.

"I don't think we've ever made arms for a human woman. Men and elves perhaps, but it is long tradition that women avoid the fields of battle. Luckily, Arya keeps a set in her rooms in case she has need of it. She wants you to wear it."

Yuna accepted the armor, shocked by Arya's gift.

She put on the form-fitting plate armored shirt over her linen shirt and leather vest. The armor was pitch black with gold filigree nearly identical to the dragon armor. Similar plate armor shielded her legs. Bracers and greaves were secured over the black and gold plates though Yuna doubted their necessity. The plate armor, though very light, felt strong enough to stop all but the heaviest blows.

Yuna cautiously tested the flexibility of the armor and was pleased to see that it was cleverly jointed to move and breath as she moves around. Arian was belted to her waist and Orik handed her two small leather sheaths for her daggers, seeing as she could not hide them as effectively in plate armor. Yuna secured one dagger to her right ankle, the other to her right thigh. A leather headband kept her hair out of her face, reminding Yuna of the need to cut her hair.

"So?" she asked curiously, turning to face Eragon and Orik.

"Not bad," Eragon said with a wry smile. Yuna rolled her eyes and the dwarves that had carried the armor to the tent left.

Yuna paced in the armor, trying to get used to it. The plates were surprisingly light, but there was still a tangible difference. Eventually, Yuna turned to face Eragon.

"I'm going to see if I can find someone to spar with, so I can get used to the armor. Do you want to come with me?" Yuna asked amiably. Eragon looked somewhat surprised but nodded.

"That's a good idea," he said as they left the tent, saying goodbye to Arget and Saphira. Yuna only shrugged, leading Eragon to the center of camp. Once there, she looked around. Her eyes found what she wanted, and she smiled. She pulled the young man, hardly into adulthood, closer to her and whispered in his ear. He nearly dropped his mace as he fled the dragon riders. Eragon looked at Yuna with a burning curiosity.

"I suppose you want to know what I said to him," she said softly, laughing under her breath.

"What did you say?" Eragon asked. Yuna smiled coyly.

"Anyone who can beat me gets a kiss." Yuna paused, surprised at herself. It seemed that she took Arget's words to heart. Eragon looked aghast before he recovered. Yuna was curious to see how he would reply. They were nearing dangerous waters.

"I didn't have to win," Eragon murmured quietly. A blush crept to Yuna's cheeks.

You deserved that, Arget said cheerfully in her mind.

Well two can play at that game, Yuna shot back.

"But you didn't get a real kiss. Would you like to try again, Shur'tugal?" Yuna challenged smoothly. Eragon was very proud that he managed to keep his face smooth.

After a moment of tense silence, Yuna sighed.

"I'm sorry," she said so quietly that Eragon half-thought he imagined it. He looked into her eyes, somewhat confused. She smiled dryly. "I just keep complicating things..."

"Don't be sorry."

Yuna opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted as a line of men suddenly appeared out of the bustle of activity. She sighed at their timing but forced a smile. The men pushed themselves into a rough circle and Eragon stepped from the center but did not stray to the edges. Yuna raised an eyebrow.

"Are you challenging me? I've already beaten you once today," she reminded him, smiling for the men. Eragon's lips quirked into a smile.

"I think I won that one," he retorted. Yuna's smile twisted slightly but she did not comment as she drew Arian. Eragon drew Saoirse and poised to attack.

Eragon made the first move, but was slow in his armor. Yuna easily evaded him, twisting out of his way. She aimed a jab at his ribs but Eragon merely twisted his arm around, letting the blade slide off of his bracers.

Neither were sure how long the spar lasted. They seemed at odds, a stalemate, but the crowd watching never left or quieted as they cheered for either rider.

Then at once, time froze. Yuna and Eragon panted as the warriors around them fell to silence. Saoirse rested at Yuna's neck, Arian at Eragon's. The two were locked in a murder-suicide, unable to move or counter without losing.

Their eyes met as a man's voice broke the silence.

"So who won?"

Yuna chuckled nervously, lowering her blade. Eragon grinned, sweeping Saoirse away from the other rider and sheathing the silver blade.

"I think that counts as a victory," he announced. Yuna rolled her eyes as a few men whooped loudly.

"Maybe if you like living without a head," she retorted loud enough for the men to hear. A few booed but most laughed. Eragon only swelled with pride, crossing his arms with a satisfied expression. Yuna only sighed in mock exasperation as Ajihad's words echoed through her mind: 'Do your best to keep up morale.'

I don't think that's exactly what he meant, Arget chuckled.

Out! Yuna ordered playfully, forcing the dragon out of her mind. Arget complied, leaving quietly. Even so, his amusement lingered in her mind.

"And if I do?" Eragon questioned cheekily, stepping closer. Yuna sheathed Arian, aware of his proximity.

"Then I will keep my word, Eragon," was her soft reply as she closed the distance. Their lips met and Eragon's arm wound around her waist, pulling her closer. A few men groaned and Yuna smiled, breaking the kiss. She leaned away from Eragon, the smile still on her lips. She playfully pushed him away from her.

"Now get out of the circle. I have some challengers to face," she chuckled. Eragon backed away, a smirk on his lips but a strange light in his eyes as a man entered the circle, drawing his sword.

The rest of the spars were over quickly but lasted into the late evening as men continued to join the circle, each vying for a chance to cross blades with the rider. Some swordsmen were more skilled than others, but they weren't much of a challenge. Other wielded different weapons- maces, spears, and the like- and it was good practice to fight against different tactics each round. Even so, Yuna had to downplay her abilities for the men to not lose too badly. She helped the younger and less experienced men with their form, and they thanked her gratefully.

When all the men had finished, Yuna bade them goodnight with a bright smile.

"That was a good idea," Eragon said to her as the circle fell apart to let them through. Yuna waved goodbye to the men before turning back to Eragon.

"I know," Yuna grinned. Eragon laughed under his breath and the two fell into a comfortable silence.

As the tent came into view, Eragon stopped suddenly. Yuna went two paces before realizing he had stopped, and turned to face him.

"What is it?" she asked curiously.

"You didn't let me win, did you?" he asked seriously. Yuna smiled but shook her head.

"No I did not. You won, fair and square," she reassured him. After a moment, her smile grew mischievous. "Congratulations, you are now as skilled as a girl."

"Who happens to be a dragon rider," Eragon pointed out. Yuna only laughed before her smile slowly faded. "What is it?"

"I don't really want to go back to the tent yet," she admitted. Eragon nodded thoughtfully; he was not eager to return either.

"We could track down some food," he suggested. Yuna beamed and began to drag him through the battalion.

Chapter Text

Yuna rolled the apple around her hands, deciding whether or not to eat it. Eragon watched over his piece of bread, a smile pulling at his lips. The two were sitting just a few feet away from each other on the edges of the camp, leaning against a rack of shields.

"What are you doing?" he asked, gesturing to the fruit in her hands. Yuna glanced down at it before back at Eragon.

"Thinking," she said after a pause. Eragon was quiet for a moment but Yuna did not elaborate.

"Thinking about what?" he asked curiously. Yuna shrugged. She studied the apple for another moment before taking a bite out of it.

"I guess," she said, swallowing, "I'm thinking about the battle... It's bigger than anything we've ever experienced."

"You'll be fine. You are amazing with a sword, and I speak from past experience," Eragon said with chuckle. Yuna glanced up at him sharply and he quieted.

"What are we doing?" she asked him. "Be honest."

"Well," he began, drawing out the word. "You are eating an apple, and I-"

"You know what I mean," Yuna interrupted shortly.

"Okay," Eragon said calmly. When he spoke again, his words were slow, as if he were still figuring out what to say. "I don't want to lose you."

"But what does that mean?"

Eragon was once again slow to speak.

"It means that you are beautiful, talented, strong, and I never want to see you anywhere but next to me."

Yuna smiled at his words, but there was a touch of sadness in her eyes.

"That's not always your choice," she said softly as she stood. She leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. "I'll see you in the morning."

"It's begun," was Yuna's wake up call. She started awake, her uneasy sleep finally over.

Arya was kneeling over her. Yuna noted that she was already prepared to fight. Her sword was sheathed at her side. Her bow was in her hand, her other hand still resting on Yuna's shoulder.

Arya stood, rolling her shoulders back as she did so.

"Ajihad has requested that I set wards to protect both you and Eragon," she explained preemptively. Yuna's brow furrowed.

"Wards?"

"Forgive me, I had forgotten how basic your education was," Arya apologized in a quiet voice. Yuna's face heated slightly with embarrassment and the elf continued. "The wards I am going to set will protect you from harm for the beginning of the battle. They will wear off, but they may save you from an otherwise debilitating blow."

"Oh," Yuna said, tucking the explanation away for later as Arya began murmuring in the ancient language.

Once the wards were set, Arya nodded her head and turned to leave. She paused at the door, glancing back at the dragon rider.

"Prepare quickly. Ajihad wishes to see both you and Eragon before the urgals arrive."

"Thank you," Yuna nodded. Arya did not respond. She merely turned away, disappearing out of the tent.

Yuna changed into a clean shirt before donning her armor as quickly as possible. She secured Arian to her waist and secured her daggers to her ankle and thigh once more. Her quiver was secured to her back and her bow slung over her shoulder.

As a last thought, Yuna retrieved one of her daggers once more and twisted her long hair in her fingers, twisting it into a single rope. She swept the dagger through her hair, the sharp blade slicing through effortlessly, leaving Yuna's hair cut roughly to her shoulders. She secured the leather headband to keep her hair out of her face and glanced briefly in the small mirror in her tent.

Good enough, she decided. She was fit for battle.

On the way to Ajihad's command tent, Yuna picked up a shield with an eight pointed star stamped onto its face, sliding it onto her left arm.

She was admitted into the tent by the four men standing guard. Saphira and Arget were also waiting outside, each already wearing their own armor. Inside of the tent, Ajihad, Eragon, Arya, and Jörmundur were all in attendance, standing close to the door.

"Good, you're here. As I just explained to Eragon, one of the Twins is staying in Tronjheim. He's going to watch the battlefield from the dragonhold and relay information to me through his brother. I'll need you to tell the Twins anything, anything, unusual you see while fighting. Also, I'll relay orders to you through them."

"Understood," Yuna said, already disgusted at the idea of being mentally linked to the Twins.

"You and Eragon are not like any type of warrior I'm used to commanding. Battle may prove differently, but I believe that all four of you would be safer on the ground. In the air, you will be easy targets for urgal archers. Will you fight on Arget's back?" Ajihad asked, now looking to Yuna. The girl bit her lip.

"I will fight on the ground for now. Things will most likely change when Durza appears, but I can't always maneuver fast enough on Arget's back," she decided. Ajihad nodded before dismissing the fighters.

Eragon, Yuna, Arya, and Orik found their ways to their positions. Arya, Yuna, and Eragon readied their bows as Orik swung his axe to make sure that he had enough room.

The perimeter around the battalions was fortified, but it would not keep a persistent enemy back for long. The area directly over the main tunnels through which the urgals would be directed was home to great fires that were heating massive cauldrons of tar just waiting to be deposited on its unlucky victims. Closer to the battalions were rows of sharpened saplings were directed towards the tunnels, dug into the ground so as to stay rooted in the rocky soil. Trenches were dug between the saplings, each holding dozens of their own spikes. A barricade partially sheltered the lines of archers that were to attack the first throngs of urgals before falling back for the foot soldiers to provide cover as they abandoned the bow for a sword, mace, or spear.

All at once, the harsh war cries and shouts of urgals began echoing, quietly at first and then deafening as the creatures grew nearer and nearer. Yuna leveled her bow at the tunnel's mouth, as did the other archers.

A signal was given as the men tightened their grips on their weapons and the massive basins of tar were emptied into the mouth of the tunnel. The urgals unlucky enough to be in the first few rows roared in pain, limbs flailing wildly. A torch was thrown into the blackness of the tar and it flared up in greasy flames.

Across Farthen Dûr, each of the other two battalions were observing a similar inferno, watching silently as the urgals burned, releasing an acrid smell into the air.

The urgals were not deterred for long, however. The later lines of infantry stamped out the flames, caring not for their fallen brethren. They clambered together into a solid wall of flesh.

The archers loosed their arrows and the deadly cloud descended upon the invading army. Yuna, Eragon, and Arya added their own arrows to the swarm and continued to fire at a rapid pace, watching the weapons eat away through the urgals' ranks.

The line of attackers wavered but did not break. Urgals stepped over their dead or wounded comrades, filling in the gap and raising shields to help guard against the second volley.

The urgals regrouped into a massive force that stretched seemingly endlessly through Farthen Dûr. War horns sounded, echoing the savage war cries of the urgals. The urgals continued their roaring and pounded their weapons against shields and the ground before charging as one.

The urgals ran into the fortifications and Yuna was somewhat pleased to see them strip dozens of urgals from the army. Even so, the opposition did not appear to weaken as an answering swarm of black shafted arrows were launched towards the men and dwarves. Yuna lifted her shield over her head to protect herself but Arget growled protectively before the arrows could grow near, craning his neck so that she was well defended under his armored neck and head. Yuna began firing off arrow after arrow, proud to see each arrow, carefully made by Garrow, fell an urgal.

The urgals were momentarily stumped by the stakes dug into the ground and the trenches, allowing them to continue to skewer the Varden's attackers relentlessly and mercilessly. Eventually, however, the urgals slowly but surely began forcing their way through, pushing their way towards the first lines of men.

As soon as the first line of urgals were clear of the stakes, dwarves and men ran in tandem to intercept the urgals, refusing to let them gain too much ground. The two bodies collided with a deafening roar as warriors from either side joined the fray. Yuna quickly lost track of Arya, Eragon, and Saphira in the confusion. She spared it little thought, however, as she ducked low to avoid a mace. The urgal who swung it did her a favor, however, as the mace continued on its path and struck down another urgal. Arget stepped in before Yuna could counterstrike, slicing the offender to ribbons with a vicious swipe of his dagger-sharp claws.

Yuna lost herself in the battle. It was only action and reaction. There was little time for thought. She briefly recognized allies in the fray, feeling a spark of relief or a pang of worry depending on their condition but quickly pushed it aside to avoid a new assailant before slicing the creature open with a deadly arc.

Behind you! Arget roared. Yuna whirled around, just in time to see a kull raise his club to deliver a blow. Yuna rolled to the ground beside him, shifting Arian to her left hand, and whipped out the dagger on her thigh before slashing it across the kull's right ankle, forcing him to a knee. Yuna whirled and swung out her left arm, Arian with it. The blade lopped off the kull's head but Yuna did not have time to celebrate her fleeting victory as two more urgals took its place.

Yuna rushed into the fight headlong, seizing the element of surprise. She leapt up, jumping in between the urgals, and swung her blade around her head, landing roughly on a knee and rolling away as the two urgals fell, their throats gushing black blood. Yuna looked up, a roar of pain assaulting her ears.

Arget! she cried out, getting angry. She glanced around quickly for the telltale gleam of silver, finding it quickly.

Arget was completely surrounded by a ring of urgals and kull, each brandishing a spear or sword and jabbing cautiously at his vulnerable wings.

Yuna shouted wordlessly and ran through the fray towards her companion. She leapt off a fallen urgal's corpse, landing roughly on an urgals' back. She stabbed into his chest with Arian and pushed against the silver sword's hilt, vaulting herself over the dying urgal's horns. She landed on her feet inside of the circle, her back to Arget.

Are you hurt? Yuna asked as the urgals paused. Arget did not respond, snaking his head out to chomp one of the urgals at the neck, beheading him cleanly.

Yuna did not hesitate for a reply or an invitation.

"Brisingr!" she shouted out. Arian came aflame with vivid green fire and Yuna sprinted to the closest Urgal, fatally slicing him open before moving on to the next in the circle.

Yuna panted as the circle fell dead, the flames ebbing away from her blade.

Little one, Arget said, his voice tainted with concern and urgency. Yuna pulled herself onto his back and he took off wordlessly.

Yuna pulled her bow from her back and began picking off urgals from the sky, targeting the archers still remaining in the relative safety of the back of the army. Before they realized that they were under attack, half a dozen had fallen dead. Arget soared out of range as they scrambled for their weapons.

They repeated their guerilla warfare until Yuna ran out of arrows. She vaguely noted Eragon employing a different tactic to take out the archers. He preferred combat on the ground. He and Saphira made a fierce duo in battle, disemboweling dozens of archers before taking to the air once more.

Has Durza appeared yet? Yuna asked the Twin in the dragonhold. There was a displeased hue to his thoughts, but she paid it no mind.

Not yet... You're ordered to assist Hrothgar. The fight goes badly for his battalion.

Understood.

Arget's wings whipped through the air quickly and he landed roughly on the ground in front of Hrothgar and his dwarves, his claws tearing into the ground roughly. He turned to face the urgals, eyes narrowed, and released a ferocious roar, quelling even the kull for a short time, buying the dwarves time to rush back. A deep rumbling began to echo in Arget's chest and he opened his mouth once more.

Yuna leaned back in amazement as, instead of a deafening roar, a long tongue of flame forced its way out from Arget's jaws, roasting the nearest urgals.

You breathed fire! Yuna said, still in awe. Arget's thoughts were extremely proud as he opened his maw again, releasing another rush of flames.

I did!

Saphira soon landed beside Arget and Yuna's eyes met Eragon's. Neither were terribly wounded- Arya's wards had done their work well- but both were splattered with blood and gore from both urgals and men.

Saphira and I can help from here. It looked like Jörmundur is worse off, Eragon said to her. Yuna glanced at Hrothgar, already back in the battle and fighting with an impressive vigor, and nodded at Eragon.

If you need our help, don't hesitate, Yuna ordered. Eragon smiled briefly before diving into the fight. Arget took off once more, taking Yuna to Jörmundur's southern troops.

They entered the battle, fighting with forced vigor. They had seen the size of the army beleaguering Tronjheim. There were no delusions. They needed to find who was controlling the urgals and dispose of them. And quickly. Even so, they continued to fight; Yuna with her sword and magic, Arget with tooth, claws, and flame.

Yuna! Your vision! Arget said suddenly. Arian finished its course, beheading yet another kull before Yuna looked to the silver dragon curiously.

What about it?

Look up, Arget growled, his head jerked up before he kicked out, stomping an urgal's chest with a powerful push.

Yuna obeyed and was startled to see a man seemingly floating on a dark cloud. Yuna's eyes narrowed while her mind reeled in panic.

Durza! she spat. She glanced around her, snatching a quiver from a fallen warrior and swinging onto Arget's back. Arget crouched down, his tail catching an urgal in the gut, forcing him to fall back, clutching his abdomen as Arget took off.

Yuna stowed the quiver in the saddle alongside her bow. She held Arian aloft, the silver blade marred by the black blood staining its surface. Less than a minute passed and Arget drew level with the Shade, baring his teeth and Yuna narrowed her eyes.

"A warm welcome, Dragon Rider," Durza said, a cruel smile on his thin lips.

"Durza," she shot back, a scowl on her face.

"Yunalesca, wasn't it?" Durza asked dryly. His bloodthirsty smile grew triumphant. "You put me through quite a bit of grief, girl. It was foolish of you to enter Gil'ead."

"I disagree. I think I did a decent job breaking an elf out of Galbatorix's most heavily garrisoned city nearly undetected. The Empire should really perform background checks on who works in their prisons, especially the kitchen staff."

"You can bring that to the king's attention when you speak to him. He is ever so eager to meet you, after all. You and the boy." Durza's face lit up smugly but Yuna only raised Arian.

"Good luck with that," she mocked. Durza's eyes narrowed and his lips pulled up into another cruel smile as he was drawn into another chase.

Arget surged forward through the sky and Yuna slashed out at the Shade, her mind going to what Arya had told her of Shades. Only a blow to the heart...

Durza batted the blow to the side, his cruel smile now condescending. Arget angled up to circle back. Durza followed the silver dragon with his eyes.

"Is that all you have to offer, little Rider? And I was looking forward to a-"

Yuna brushed against Arget's mind so that he was aware of her plan before launching herself from the saddle. She whipped Arian around her body, aiming a powerful thrust at his heart. The Shade's bloodthirsty smile did not fade. He whipped his own blade up to parry the blow. A flurry of sparks flew up and a mildly impressed expression found its way to Durza's eyes before it was consumed by determination. Yuna distantly noted a new scar on the flat of his blade: a shallow asterisk-like mark.

Yuna spun herself around as Arget appeared beneath her. She landed roughly in the hollow of his neck. Arian was sheathed in an instant as her bow leapt to her hands. Yuna drew an arrow back, already aiming it at the Shade, only to see that he had already vanished, just like in her vision.

"Barzûl," she cursed.

Yuna! Eragon called. Yuna straightened in the saddle.

Where are you?

Get to the dragonhold as fast as you can, he said quickly. Arget immediately changed his course, his wings pushing the air powerfully.

Eragon, Arya, and Saphira were already in the dragonhold when Arget and Yuna arrived.

"What's wrong?" Yuna asked urgently.

"One of the Twins said that there were urgals burrowing up into Tronjheim but someone needs to take the damaged armor off of Saphira," Eragon explained in a hurry. Arya glanced up.

"I will stay. Both of you, hurry," she ordered.

"Tronjheim is sealed from the outside; we'll have to go down, not out," Yuna remembered grimly.

Stay safe, friend-of-my-heart. This is one fight I cannot join you in, Arget said, sounding less than pleased. I can give you this, though. You will need it more than I.

Arget melded his mind with hers' and a massive surge of energy flowed into Yuna. She accepted it gratefully, storing the energy into Arian's purple gemstone.

"We don't have time," Eragon argued. Yuna shook her head.

"We don't have time to walk," she exaggerated. Eragon's eyes lit with understanding and the two riders ran out of the archway. Vol Turin was spread out before them. The two paid it little attention as they focused their eyes on the polished stone trough carved beside the stairs. Each rider grabbed hold of one of the leather pads, sharing a glance and an optimistic smile before Eragon and then Yuna threw themselves down the slide.

The marble walls blurred into a mess of neutral colors as Yuna's eyes were forced open by the wind. With the leather pad, she hurtled through the slide at frightening speeds. The trough was not quite large enough, but she felt secure enough. For the first time, she truly appreciated that women had narrower shoulders than men.

After nearly ten minutes of ceaseless descent, the slide leveled out, depositing the two riders on the carnelian floor. It was longer still before either was able to stand without being thrown back down by the dizzy vertigo plaguing their sight. Eragon stood first, scanning the large room with his eyes.

The massive chamber was completely deserted and cloaked in a dead silence. Rosy light filtered down from the Isidar Mirthrim, lighting the room in a soft glow. Yuna joined him at his side as a loud knocking echoed through Tronjheim. Yuna and Eragon both drew their blades instinctively.

An explosion split the air, reminding Eragon of that fateful day in the Spine that had started this entire adventure. That day felt lifetimes away and he was startled to realize it was just seven months ago.

A long slab of the floor buckled before blowing away with another explosive blast. Rock was crushed to dust and sharpened into needles as it rained down, settling on the floor as urgals clambered out of the new tunnel.

Yuna reacted on instinct and an urgal fell to the ground, gurgling. She was somewhat surprised to see that her arm was extended. Her dagger protruded from the fallen urgal's chest and was driven even deeper as the creature toppled onto the wound. Unfortunately, that meant that she could not retrieve it without inviting an attack from one of its comrades.

Eragon responded as the urgals mulled around in confusion, felling another two easily. Yuna continued in her attack, ignoring the growing burn in her right shoulder. She switched Arian to her left hand and continued fighting until a voice barked a word that she did not recognize. It must have been from the ancient language, however, as a sudden weight forced her to a knee. Arian fell out of her grip.

She struggled to hold her head high and her eyes captured Eragon in a similar state. He had maintain his hold on Saoirse but his breathing was very labored.

"Kaz jtierl trazhid! Otrag bagh," the same voice barked out. Yuna forced her head to turn and recognized Durza. "Ah, Yunalesca, we meet again. And this must be Eragon."

Yuna did not respond to the bait, forcing herself to push off of the ground. The magic loosened ever so slightly and she reached out to Arian. Her hand brushed the hilt but the magic returned stronger than ever before she could grasp the sword.

Then at once the spell vanished altogether. Yuna jumped to her feet and her second dagger found its way to one of the watching urgals. She spared a glance to see Eragon battling ferociously with the Shade. He was holding his own fairly well, so Yuna devoted her attention to cutting down the urgals' number.

Action and reaction. Duck, slash, roll, stab, repeat. Black blood, some old and some new, began to claim most of her surface area as she fought.

Yuna froze as a bloodcurdling scream of pain filled her ears, echoing throughout the chamber. Arian launched upwards in a final thrust and it pierced the last urgal through the heart. Yuna yanked her sword back and turned to Eragon fear and concern rising up in her. Her breath caught in her throat.

Eragon was on his knees, swaying and barely conscious. Yuna's eyes found the horrific wound carved into his back, cutting through his armor and skin and sending thick trails of hot blood down the small of his back.

Durza laughed over his weak form. A sound between a growl and a shout escaped Yuna's lips as she sprinted towards the two. She skidded on the ground, holding her sword aloft against Durza, Eragon behind him.

"Are you going to protect him, girl?" Durza mocked. His cruel smile grew feral as he raised his sword once more, now intending to strike Yuna down.

Another explosion, this one a deafening clack, filled the air and Yuna and Durza both looked up, distracted as they watched Isidar Mirthrim, now shattered, plummet towards them in a cascade of razor sharp pieces ranging from merely slivers of crystal to looming boulders of sapphire.

Saphira and Arget were hurtling downwards with the crystal, flames licking the air as both opened their jaws wide. Yuna distantly noted Arya on Arget's back, her outstretched palm glowing with brilliant green magic.

Durza's face reflected first his shock and then his anger. He raised his hand towards the two dragons and elf, a word beginning to form on his tongue.

Yuna's focus was suddenly disturbed as a very familiar voice roared a very familiar word.

"Brisingr!" Eragon bellowed. Saoirse blazed with flames as the wounded rider lunged forward with his last reserves of strength. The silver blade continued unimpeded into Durza's chest, stabbing the Shade through the heart.

Durza looked down at the blade, his shock written plainly across his features. His mouth opened wide and, instead of words, an unearthly howl of pain and anger escaped his mouth. His pale sword fell from his grip. He lifted his arms, weakly grasping Saoirse's blade as if to pull it out.

The Shade's skin turned transparent and Yuna could only watch with morbid fascination as she noted that, instead of muscle or bone, there was only swirling darkness underneath his waxy skin. The howl grew louder than ever as the darkness shuddered, splitting his skin open.

With a final cry, the darkness ripped its way free of the Shade's body, separating into three entities that flew through the air as they fled Tronjheim and then Farthen Dûr.

Durza the Shade was defeated.

Eragon fell forward, Saoirse falling out of his grip as he collapsed onto the stone floor. Saphira, Arget, and Arya slowed to a stop and hang motionless in the air. Yuna dully noted the crystal fragments of the Isidar Mirthrim also stopping before lowering gently towards the ground.

Yuna knelt beside Eragon, carefully ripping his ruined armor away from the wound so she could better see it. She swallowed past a lump in her throat. Urgal blood was something she was by now accustomed to seeing. Scarlet blood, especially from such a close friend- and possibly something more- was not at all a welcome sight.

Arget, Saphira, Yuna said, her mind emanating a helpless fear. Both sidled up to her. Each roared to the air before lowering their heads. I will need help. And a lot of it.

Help him, Saphira commanded worriedly, joining her mind with Yuna's. Strength filled Yuna's exhausted body and she sat straighter. Arget melded his mind with hers' wordlessly as he settled beside her. Yuna balanced Arian in her lap, her mind already made up to drain its gemstone if need be.

Yuna closed her eyes briefly, settling on phrasing as quickly as she could. Her green eyes snapped open and she began to chant in a low voice.

Time began to drag on as the muscles slowly knit themselves together from the down up. It was a long and arduous process- Eragon's flesh did not want to cooperate with her as the wound wept blood relentlessly. Even so, she forced herself to continue. Arian's crystal was soon emptied, yet Yuna kept up her chant.

Saphira's mind soon pulled away as the spell ate away at her energy. She had spent more time on the ground battling. Eragon had been forced to rely on her strength to augment his own power and the wear was evident. She settled on the ground, her head beside Eragon's still form. A gentle keening cry emanated from her throat.

A hand fell on Yuna's shoulder. She jumped and cursed under her breath when the magic faded away from her grip. She turned to face whoever had interrupted her. She paused.

"Angela?" she asked, her voice thick with exhaustion. Angela nodded her head, her curls bouncing as she knelt beside Yuna.

"You've done enough. Rest. I will take care of him," the herbalist promised. Solembum appeared on Yuna's other side.

"Arya," Yuna mumbled. Angela nodded, already pulling out dried plants and potions out of her bag.

"You're about to collapse. Sleep," Angela said, not glancing back at Yuna.

Arget rolled onto his side and Yuna curled into his belly. Arget curled his neck around her form protectively. The rider was already asleep.

Chapter Text

You have done well. A voice drifted through Yuna's mind. She wandered through a dark landscape, stumbling in the dark.

Who are you?

One who would help.

Yuna vaguely noted the strength of the mind of the one with whom she was conversing. The other consciousness was massive and vast as it loomed over her small presence. A rhythm of deep chords sang in the mind's undercurrents.

You are an elf, aren't you? Yuna asked the presence. There was a quiet sense of approval from the other mind and Yuna continued to look into the darkness. Her thoughts caught up with her and she raised her fingers to her lips. Atra esterní ono thelduin.

Surprise drifted through the elf's mind but it vanished quickly. Mor'ranr lífaunin hjarta onr, he finished.

How are you speaking to me? I doubt that you are one of the twelve Queen Islanzadí sent.

I am not. But your questions must wait. You are not safe, and neither is Eragon, until you find me.

How will we know where to find you?

Trust Arya and go with her to Ellesméra. I will be there. I have waited many seasons, so do not delay or it may soon be too late... You are stronger than you know, Yunalesca. Your heart remains in an era of war. That is not a feat many can accomplish.

My heart doesn't sharpen my sword.

The elf paused for a moment before replying.

There is more than one type of strength. Your heart guides you to fight not for power but for peace. It allows others to look to you and follow in your footsteps. Therein lies your true strength... When you wake, do not speak of me to anyone.

Even Eragon?

Even Eragon... You have done much. Now sleep...

Yuna jerked awake, gasping.

"Good, you're awake," Angela said in a cheerful voice. Her gaze zeroed in on Yuna's face as her smile faded. "How do you feel?"

Yuna paused for a moment. She was sore but it was bearable. Hunger clawed at her stomach. A headache pounded painfully against her skull.

"Hungry," she decided. The last thing she had eaten was an apple and that was from the night before the battle.

Yuna glanced down at herself as Angela laughed. She had been changed out of her armor. Her white linen shirt and leather vest had been replaced with a light brown tunic. Dark leggings hugged her legs. Her leather boots were beside the bed she had been placed in. Only now did Yuna noticed how worn her shoes were.

"How long have I been here?"

"About two days. Eragon woke up a few hours ago."

"How is he?" Yuna asked intently, sitting up in the bed. Angela crossed her arms.

"You can see him once you've had something to eat," she said seriously.

"And Arya?"

"Do you ever run out of questions?" Angela asked, impatience coloring her voice. "She lived. And before you ask, Arget and Saphira are just fine."

Yuna sighed in relief, letting herself relax back onto the blankets. Angela handed a bowl of lukewarm soup, which the rider ate gratefully. When she was finished, Angela held a hand to her forehead briefly.

"I would avoid using magic for a few hours, but I've done all I can."

"So can I see the others now?"

"Yes," Angela said exasperatedly. She went to the doorway of the room and called down the hallway. A familiar pair appeared in the doorway.

"Eragon, Arya!" Yuna greeted happily. Arya bowed her head in greeting as Eragon walked towards Yuna with confidents steps. Yuna stood from the bed, pulling her legs free of the blankets, and wrapped her arms around the other rider's torso. He chuckled before inhaling sharply in what Yuna identified as pain. She immediately released him, studying him worriedly. Angela frowned but sighed in resignation.

"You will simply have to get used to it," she counseled, placing a hand on Eragon's shoulder before escaping the room, nodding at Arya as she passed.

"Get used to what?" Yuna asked. Eragon's face twisted into a grimace. Yuna's curiosity peaked but grew somber. "Used to what?"

"She will see before long, Eragon. You may as well show her now," Arya said gently. Eragon did not speak, the grimace on his face growing deeper still. Yuna glanced back at Arya but the elf gave nothing away.

"Angela said that without you, I would have died after that last blow," Eragon said slowly, his eyes downcast. Yuna's eyes darkened with increasing confusion.

"It wasn't just me. Saphira and Arget gave nearly all of the energy for the spell. But-" Yuna's voice caught slightly and she stumbled on her words. "You were losing so much blood..."

"Just show her," Arya said, her voice still soft. Pity shone in her dark green eyes. Eragon nodded curtly and began to lift his shirt over his head. The linen came away, revealing his muscled torso. He turned around slowly and Yuna recoiled at the gnarled scar running down the length of his back, stretching from his right shoulder to his left hip.

"It looks worse than it is," Eragon reassured her as he put his shirt back on. "Most of the scarring is only on the surface."

"But still," Yuna began, shaking her head slowly. "I could have healed the surface first. Then-"

Eragon smiled gently.

"Then most of the damage would have been internal and Angela couldn't have done as much as she did. You're the reason I'm still alive. I can deal with the proof of it."

Chapter Text

Yuna leaned against Arget's side, staring into the distance. Farthen Dûr was still a mess. The bodies of both urgals and men were strewn across the ground. Spears and swords still covered with gore dotted the blood-soaked earth and rock, reflecting the sparse light falling through the crater's mouth. There were parties of men and dwarves separating the fallen Varden from the urgals. The urgals were being taken to the edge of Farthen Dûr to be burned in a massive blaze. They deserved no honorable resting place. The men's remains would be buried in mass graves. There were too many fallen to even think of digging individual graves.

It was three days after the battle's end. Eragon was being hailed as a hero for killing Durza. People began calling him Shadeslayer, much to his discomfort. Yuna had been debriefed on the battle's end. According to Jörmundur, after the spirits that had joined to become Durza escaped Farthen Dûr, the urgal tribes turned on each other and began to battle amongst themselves, letting the men and dwarves recover and take down the majority of the army within minutes. The remnants of the army had taken to the tunnels where they were now being chased relentlessly by groups of men and dwarves. Ajihad, joined by the Twins, led his own group into the dark tunnels but was due to return today. She was also told, much to her amusement and Ajihad's fury, that Nasuada had eventually disobeyed Ajihad's orders and joined the Varden's archers and fought from a distance.

Yuna watched as Eragon, flanked by Saphira, waded into the carnage that still covered the ground. He had attempted to help in the recovery effort, but was stopped by terrible pains from his scarred back. The ghost of the wound left him nearly crippled, but he did not complain, especially in front of Yuna. Though he did not blame her for his injury, she did not let it go.

I had forgotten...

What, little one?

Yuna craned her neck so she could see Arget's face.

Brom... What did he mean, that it was time?

Are you sure you wish to know now? It is knowledge you cannot return.

She drew her legs up and rested her chin against her chin. Yuna watched as Jörmundur approached Eragon, a piece of parchment in his hands. He bowed to Eragon before speaking. Eragon nodded at the man before his eyes began to scan the battlefield. Yuna sighed, leaning back against Arget.

I-

Yuna, Eragon called in his mind. Yuna lowered her mental barriers.

What is it?

Ajihad is returning. He wants us to be there when he and the men arrive at the west gate.

Arget and I will meet you there, Yuna acknowledged before closing her mind once more. She quickly explained the situation to Arget and climbed to his back, Brom's last words pushed to the back of her mind for now. Arget's powerful wings beat the air and he was airborne, soaring to the west gate.

By the time they had arrived, Eragon, Saphira, and the others were already gathered at the west gate to Tronjheim.

"Where will Ajihad come from?" Yuna asked Orik as she slid from Arget's saddle. Orik pointed into the distance. A cluster of lanterns were staked around a large tunnel's mouth a couple of miles away.

Half of an hour passed by before motion flickered in the far tunnel. A group of ten men climbed out, then turned and helped another ten dwarves out of the tunnel. One of the men raised a hand and the warriors assembled behind him in two lines.

Ajihad, Yuna decided. The man gave a signal and the formation walked proudly towards Tronjheim.

They had scarcely gone five yards when the tunnel behind them swarmed with a rush of activity as more warriors jumped out of neighboring tunnels.

Urgals! Arget growled, tensing. Yuna did not question her companion's eyesight, jumping on to his back once more.

"Urgals!" she cried out, not noticing that she and Eragon had shouted out in unison. Yuna leaned forward in the saddle as Arget jumped up, his strong wings whipping the air. Saphira joined them in the air, her azure wings pushing against the still air powerfully. With each wing beat they gained speed and altitude. Arya was run towards the tunnel below them, running nearly as fast as Arget and Saphira flew. Orik trailed behind, much slower but followed by several men. Jörmundur sprinted back to the barracks to get reinforcements.

Yuna could only watch as the urgals fell upon the Varden's warriors. They were too far for her to use magic without dying. Arget released a roar, but the men could not hear the warning before four warriors were cut down by the attackers. The rest of the warriors reacted quickly, circling around Ajihad in an attempt to protect him. There was a flash of light from one of the Twins and an urgal fell, clutching the stump of what used to be his arm.

At first it appeared as if the warriors might beat back the urgals, but then there was a faint shimmer in the air. It twisted itself around the warriors. By the time it cleared, only three warriors stood against the urgals: Ajihad and the Twins. The urgals rushed the remaining three, blocking Yuna's view as she stared on with fear.

The urgals backed away suddenly, leaving nothing but unmoving bodies in their wake as they sped away into the tunnels.

Yuna leapt off of Arget's back as soon as his claws touched the rocky earth. Eragon appeared at her side as she began searching for survivors from the ambush.

The massacre was staged in rings, demonstrating how the battle had progressed. It was clear to see how the men and dwarves had tried to defend Ajihad, only to be defeated. The bodies of urgals dotted the rings, marking where the warriors had held them off until that mysterious shimmer racked the air. At the very center of the circle was Ajihad. His breastplate was rent with numerous gashes, evidence from the brutal attack. Five slain urgals were strewn on the ground around him.

Yuna knelt at his side as his breath came in ragged gasps, her head lowered with grief as tears welled in her eyes. The damage was too great. She could not heal this, even with Eragon's help. Eragon knelt beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to his chest as tears rolled down his face. Arya came running into the circle. Once she saw the extensiveness of Ajihad's injuries, she merely waited, a profound sadness on her face.

"Eragon... Yuna..." The names came from Ajihad's lips, no more than a breath.

"Yes, we're here," Eragon said. Yuna nodded her head quickly, taking his hand in hers' and squeezing it comfortingly.

"Listen to me... I have one last command for you," Ajihad said, his voice just a faint whisper. Both riders leaned forward to catch his last words. "You must promise me something: promise that you... won't let the Varden fall into chaos. They are the only hope for resisting the Empire... They must be strong. You must promise me."

"I promise," Eragon vowed.

"Of course," Yuna promised.

"Then peace be with you, Eragon Shadeslayer, Yunalesca..." Ajihad closed his eyes, his noble face setting in repose. His last breath came softly, leaving him motionless.

Eragon bowed his head, his breathing labored as Yuna was racked with sobs. Arya blessed Ajihad in a ripple of the ancient language before speaking to the riders.

"Alas, there will be much strife over this. He is right, you must do all you can to avert a struggle for power. I will assist where possible," she said, her voice still quiet.

This should not have happened. It is an evil doing, and all the worse for coming when we should be safe and victorious, Saphira said, nosing one of the bodies sadly. Arget's eyes narrowed slightly as he surveyed the fallen.

Where are the Twins? They are not among the dead.

You're right! Yuna said after doing her own scan. Streaks of bleed led into the tunnel's mouth, as if bodies had been dragged down it.

"The Twins are not here," she exclaimed, fighting the lump in her throat. She pointed to the tunnel. "Look."

"It makes no sense," Arya said once she had come to the same conclusion.

"Will you pursue them?" Yuna asked quietly. Arya studied her for a long moment, the air tense.

"Wiol ono." Then she ran forward, sword flashing in the dim light as she dove into the mountain's tunnels.

Yuna and Eragon fell to silence as Arya's footsteps disappeared completely, the silence heavy with death and tension.

When Orik finally came, he swore in Dwarvish, his eyes finding Ajihad. He drove his axe into the corpse of an urgal in frustration as the men stood in shock. The dwarf wrung his hands, growling.

"Ah, now a hornet's nest has been broken. We'll have no peace in the Varden after this. Barzûln, but this makes things complicated. Were you in time to hear his last words?"

Eragon and Yuna shared a glance.

"They must wait for the right person before I'll repeat them," Eragon decided. Yuna nodded her head in agreement.

"And where'd be Arya?" Orik asked. Eragon pointed into the tunnel.

"The urgals took the Twins when they went," Yuna explained as Orik swore again.

Jörmundur arrived with six dozen men. He paused before motioning for the men to wait outside the radius of bodies as he alone walked forward. He knelt at Ajihad's side, touching the man on the shoulder.

"How can fate be this cruel, my old friend? I would have been here sooner if not for the size of this cursed mountain, and then you might have been saved. Instead, we are wounded at the height of our triumph."

Eragon swiftly explained to him about Arya and the disappearance of the Twins. Jörmundur straightened.

"She should not have gone," he said, "but there is naught we can do about it now. Guards will be posted here, but it will be at least an hour before dwarf guides can be found for another expedition into the tunnels."

"I'd be willing to lead it," Orik offered. Jörmundur looked back at Tronjheim in the distance, shaking his head slowly.

"No, Hrothgar will need you now. Someone else will have to go. I'm sorry, Eragon, Yuna, but everyone important must stay here until Ajihad's successor is chosen. Arya will have to fend for herself... There isn't much chance that we could overtake her anyway."

Both riders nodded, knowing it was inevitable. Jörmundur stood, turning to face the men he had brought.

"Ajihad has died a warrior's death! Look, he slew five urgals where a lesser man might have been overwhelmed by one. We will give him every honor and hope that his spirit pleases the gods. Bear him and our companions back to Tronjheim on your shields... and do not be ashamed to let your tears be seen, for this is a day of sorrow that all will remember. May we soon have the privilege of sheathing our blades in the monsters who have slain our leader!"

The warriors knelt as one, baring their heads as they paid homage to Ajihad. Then they stood and reverently lifted him on their shields so he lay between their shoulders. Already many of the men wept, tears flowing into their beards, yet they did not disgrace their duty and allow Ajihad to fall. They marched with solemn steps back to Tronjheim, followed closely by Arget and Saphira. Eragon and Yuna flanked Jörmundur as he led the warriors to the city-mountain, already mourning the tragic loss.