Author's Notes

I do not own Eragon, or any other characters that you may recognize in this story. All characters you don't recognize are made up by me, unless you just have a memory issue, in which case go see a doctor or psychological therapist who might be able to help with it. One is that some parts seem similar to another Fan Fic. I did not copy this off of another fan fic as that would be a stupid idea since Fan Fiction has a safeguard for that. Anyway, the fan fic that seems closely similar to is the one called "Shadow Rider" (VERY good fan fic by the way congratulations to blackbird## {not sure of the exact numbers}. I was completely and utterly captivated by it.) Ok, now that is all out the way, another issue. The title, the title and the very concept of using twilight part is inspired by something personal to me. NOT THE BOOK TWILIGHT!

And last, if you see bold numbers within the story, scroll down to the bottom of the page to read a description.

The Rider of the Twilight Blade

It was 2 days after the battle on the Burning Plains, Eragon awoke to the sound of marching men. His body felt sore, he felt exhausted, and tired. He wanted to just lie there, forgetting where he was and who he was and just sleep to the rhythmic sound of marching boots. He looked to his left to see cousin, and he wondered what Roran could be dreaming of. His cousin's head was on its side, captured in a deep sleep. His body was less tense then before, and was loose. Unlike the night before, he looked in a much better condition than before, and looked fairly well rested. As he lay there thinking, he remembered where he was. Sitting up to the sound of boots nearby he wondered why the Varden would be so active early in the morning. Then he remembered the day before, and sat and thought of his identity and who he was. The same thoughts of the day before ran through his mind. Morzan is not my father. Brom and Oromis have been more of a fatherly influence than anyone, and Garrow taught me everything that I should ever have to know. The right way to live and the proper understanding of who I am. As his thoughts came to a close, he thought once again to the stamping of boots. "I should probably get up and see what the commotion is about." He got up and pulled on a tunic, and then continued to strap on his gauntlets, boots, and his shield which he found lying by his side. The shield he strapped on in a diagonal manner across his back, with the top of the shield (this POV is seen from behind) toward his left shoulder, and the bottom, toward his right leg. Because of this, there was a space in the upper right portion of his back. In this space, he strapped his quiver of arrows, and his Elven bow. He continued to strap on his gauntlets. His eyesight was extremely well, and could tell that it was still dawn, before the sun rose.

He silently moved toward the entrance of his tent, when something brushed against his leg, producing a faint clink as whatever it was met his metal boot. He looked down, and found something lying beside his foot, from the distance it was glassy and smooth, but upon closer inspection, it was more clear. It was a flute that the elves used to play music. However unlike normal, elven wooden flutes, this one was made of an unknown metal, and it was inscribed with a symbol. The symbol was a golden and black semi circle. The crescent moon shaped symbol was facing downward, so that it formed a type of dome. Within the crescent was what appeared to be the image of a black blade facing downward as well. The length of the blade, was long enough so that it extended past the crescent, and it ended about a finger's breadth away from the mouth piece of the flute. He did not know where it came from, so he decided to keep it, in hopes that Arya might recognize it. Also unlike other flutes and instruments, was its color. Instead of black and glossy as he first observed, it was really a dark void. It blended in with everything it was nearby, from a distance of about 2 feet even, it blended perfectly with the shadows. Once again he wondered if Arya would recognize this strange instrument. "Arya..." he thought. "What could she be doing?" As Eragon exited the tent, making sure not to wake up Roran on his way out, a man riding a horse galloped amongst the troops and tents to him. "Hail Shadeslayer!" the man cried out.

"It is most likely a messenger from Nasuada." said Saphira. "Glad to see your awake!" said Eragon. Eragon felt overjoyed at the sound of her voice. His mind felt clouded as he awoke, his mind processing the various bits of information that he received, and hearing Saphira's voice cleared his mind of all that blinded him. "The feeling is mutual then. Now hurry and see what the messenger has to say!" Eragon nodded and could only wonder what the messenger could want so early in the morning. Or rather who would want him so early in the morning. Eragon walked forward and asked, "Hello, what may I do for you?" The horseman urged his horse to move closer. "Lady Nasuada wishes to see you in her tent. The matters are of great importance." said the horse rider. "Very well then," replied Eragon, "we will be there shortly." From behind the tent arose Saphira. Her wings had returned to their normal color after she was healed, the blood loss had left her wing's near colorless. At first, the blood loss worried Eragon. But seeing her as she was now, swept all his doubt away. "She is a mighty creature." he thought. Eragon clambered onto Saphira's unsaddled back, wincing with every bump and jolt as Saphira made her way towards Nasuada's tent. As Eragon reached Nasuada's tent, he sensed that she was tense, that her mind seemed full of energy, ready to burst. "We should enter cautiously stated Saphira." As Eragon thought of her words, and re-examined Nasuada's mind from a distance, he could only agree. He entered and immediately his eyes observed the people inside. Accompanying Nasuada was Orik, Arya, and King Orrin.

"You called for me my liege?" said Eragon. At the sound of his voice, Nasuada stiffened, then relaxed when she recognized it as Eragon's ."Yes I have," said Nasuada "We have been discussing our plan of action, and we have decided to move forward to the town of Belatona. From there we plan to march around Leona Lake and then begin the siege at Dras-Leona." Eragon was surprised because of this gesture. To make a move against the Empire so soon after their heavy losses in the battle several days ago seemed unnerving as he thought of the many people who died in the previous battle. He thought about it some more, and then wondered how they intended to lay siege to an enourmous city as Dras Leona with the amount of men they had. They already suffered countless losses, with humans, dwarves, and worst of all, Hrothgar the Dwarf King. "Wouldn't that be a risky idea?" Eragon said slowly, "I do not question the will that you have in this decision, nor the fact that you must have thought of it for quite some time to come to such a conclusion. However how do you hope to lay siege when our forces have been limited to such numbers?"

Nasuada hesitated for a moment, as if to get her words together, then she replied, "I understand why you would deduce such a thing, however I intend to lay siege to Dras-Leona because we can gain valuable supplies there, as for soldiers, we have recruited many people through out Surda, and we have also spread word of your arrival in the surrounding areas. Many have come to fight because our battle here. We need supplies, which we can recieve at Dras Leona, though money is no longer an issue to us." Eragon nodded, hearing her decision, he decided it was best to make his known as well. "As for me my lady, I believe I must go to see an old friend of mine, I promised that I would see him after the battle. Not only that, but I have some personal matters to attend to." Nasuada frowned, What could he possibly mean? We need him now more than ever! Yet he hasn't made an irrational decision... yet... "May I ask what your personal matters may imply to?" asked Nasuada once she gathered her thoughts. "It is something that I cannot say, nor do I have the knowledge to explain." said Eragon, "but know this Nasuada, what I must do may aid the Varden much more greatly then I can right now." Eragon knew she wanted to know a bit more and wondered "Should I tell her about the flute?"

"I dont think it would be a good idea, to mention it to her." said Saphira. "For an object to appear as if from thin air in YOUR tent would only worry her, and judging from what you understood by sensing her mind, another worry isn't exactly something we could afford." Taking this advice, he said as he left the tent without turning, "It involves a counsel that was said to me by a werecat that I intend to follow. From there, I will see what must be done." Through this he implied what he intended to do with the counsel but not about the instrument.

He strode out of the tent without saying another word and walked toward his own tent. He entered finding Roran fully dressed, clad with basic armor provided by the Varden, his regular hammer replaced with a war hammer. They looked into each other's eyes with a mutual understanding that they both fought for something, that they both had their own purpose. "I want you to come with me Roran," said Eragon "I intend to go return to the Elves to see my master and to continue my training, however from there I must go find something that could potentially help me." Roran seemed to think about it for a moment, he was hesitant, but he replied, "I understand your need to do so, however I must rescue Katrina, there is no telling what those demons might have done to her. You owe me for that as well, and you understand that." Eragon, understanding his cousin's desire to find Katrina, thought of how he should approach Roran with this task of convincing him to come with him. He also understood that if he could not give Roran a sufficient answer, he would take whoever he could and go after the Raz'ac himself. "Roran, I understand that nothing else means more to you then rescuing Katrina, however what I need is more important for now, not only that, but later we will be joining the Varden at Dras-Leona, from there we will be able to attack Helgrind with the support of the Varden. Eragon looked at him to see his reaction, and it came. With a sigh Roran said,

"Aye, I can see your logic in then, you have grown plenty Eragon, both in strength, and intelligence. I can only hope that it can help us in that last fight before Galbatorix himself."

A Memory

Eragon watched the ground as the Varden below passed by out of sight underneath the clouds. "This is going to be a long journey." he thought. He felt the cool breeze on his face as the land sped by beneath them. Roran holding his back tightly, did not seem to taking the flying idea very well. He already threw up several times, leaving a bit on Saphira's scales, to which she corkscrewed while performing a loop in the air, which resulted in Roran hurling his breakfast back down towards the Varden.

From what Eragon saw to his absolute horror with excruciating detail (with his vision now improved ever since his transformation), it landed right onto Arya's bow and sword as well as her belt which was also right next to Orik who was guarding her precious elven equipment. Orik, who was less fortunate than the equipment received a seriesof splattering goop which landed on his helmet, ax, boots, and chest plate.

And what made it more horrifying was that Orik continued to run in the direction Saphira was flying in order to escape the barrage of breakfast. So he continued to receive a rain of Roran's meal until he stopped running and yelled out "In the name of Guntera's black beard! Eragon!". It was quite an amusing sight honestly! Orik with his beard filled with Roran's regurgitated breakfast as well as Arya staring down in disbelief at her equipment.

FLY SAPHIRA FLY!

I already am, hold on, and tell Roran that if he throws up one more time on my scales, his breakfast won't be the only thing falling off.

Good grief, first I bring Arya to openly ending our friendship in Du Weldenvarden because of my confession, then our friendship is remade, and now it has been tarnished by mead, meat, and bread.

Eragon repeated Saphira's message to Roran and laughed as Roran's face paled.

"Eragon, is it possible for justice be brought against a dragon for murder?" Eragon laughed once more as they flew from the Varden through the clouds.

They covered much ground that day, with the Hadarac Desert speeding below them. They were able to reach Du Weldenvarden by midnight. Eragon however, realizing that in his haste to see Oromis to continue his training, he forgot to make a trip to Surda to get supplies, mainly fruits and vegetables for him. They made camp, and Eragon went out to look for some food to eat.

While Eragon was gone, Saphira stared at Roran with an icy silence, the scent of regurgitated breakfast lingering across her scales, as Roran shuddered at the thought offlying Saphira again, and shuddered once more when he realized that he was in the presence of an enormous fire breathing dragon with more intelligence than he could ever hopefor, that was also extremely irritated at him for him throwing up all over her beautiful scales which was more precious than an entire hoard of treasure. "Not exactly the bestimpression to give to your cousin's dragon Roran, not good at all..." Roran muttered to himself.

He breathed an audible sigh of relief as Eragon re-entered the camp as being alone with Saphira brought a fear in him that he didn't understand.

"Well I got us some dinner, unless of course you wish to eat meat, in which case you will find it in your bags." Roran looked back at Saphira who was chewing on the remains of her kill earlier thatday, he then looked upon the bags upon her tall shoulders as she looked back at him with a cold glare. "No thanks, fruits every once in a while can't really hurt can it?" Eragon looked at Roran with genuine interest at what he could be wondering of whether it was Saphira he was anxious about, or rescuing Katrina though he suspected itwas the latter. He did seem afterall nervous in his entirety, not just when with Saphira.

They decided to sleep when the owls finally came out of the trees and sang their everlasting symphonies, transforming the night into an orchestraic era to which Eragon soon lost himself in. As Eragon slept he began to dream of Saphira, he began to dream of his childhood and how it led up to meeting Saphira, he dreamed of his experiences since leaving Carvahall with Brom. He dreamed of Arya, the way she spoke, how mysterious she was, how she laughed, how relaxed she felt as she made peace with her then, he dreamed of her rejection. The pain all came crashing down on him. The loss of Garrow, the encounter at Yazuac, Brom's death, losing Murtagh, the crippled Oromis, Glaedr and his handicap. Most of all however, the one thing that dwarfed it all, was the pain that was brought on all these people all because of Galbatorix, the hatred within him towards Galbatorix clouded his dreams, when suddenly it felt as if his mind fell into oblivion.

Eragon got up and looked around. He seemed to be on a stone platform, whose ground could not be seen because of a black and golden mist that seemed to permeate through the stone itself. There was a man standing in the middle of the platform, with his back to him.

"Eragon, you have not fully mastered Malthinaejohdr " 1. said the man. The man was tall and slender, his clothes were composed of many layers, and draped down his back until it reached his waist. His head was under a hood, and when he turned to face Eragon, the lower portion of his face as Eragon saw, was covered by a cloth so that only his eyes and forehead were seen. Then Eragon started speaking to the was as if his voice was speaking of it's own accord even if he tried to stop himself, the conversation between the stranger and his body as he guessed it continued.

"But I have come so far and learned so much! How long do you intend to keep me here in this world, where time itself seems to stop?"

The man replied "Until you have mastered what has been laid before you. Whether it is the test of the blade or magic, this weapon is far too powerful for you to control at this time. Become stronger, understand what power is, the very concept of it, how it is a gift that is to be received with responsibility, and then return to me, then we shall see if Malthinaejohdr finds you worthy. As the man spoke those words, Eragon woke.

Review Me

Alright then dudes, this is actually my edited version of the first chapter. It didn't seem to have enough and seemed to put off other readers when they saw how lame the first couple of chapters were/are. For those of you reading this now, consider yourselves lucky, you reading a much more succinct version of the earlier chapters. BTW I'm morphing chapters one and two just to make it a lot more whole. I wrote the chapters themselves a while ago, and I assure you, the later chapters are much more longer and succinct.

Twilight S.

1. It is pronounced mal-thin-ay-jo-der. If you can't figure out what that means, find your nearest Eragon book and look at the language guide in the back.