I don't own the Inheritance Cycle.

Chapter One: The Red Rider

(Murtagh Point of View)

He was flying. Not on a dragon, mind you, but on a sword.

It was exhilarating, and a laugh escaped his mouth as he flew faster, surfing the sky in an unknown style never seen before by any in Alagaesia. A hoot of triumph escaped his lips, and turning to his right, he saw a pretty woman, flying on her own sword. She was dressed in armor, and she sent him a grin.

"Hey," he called out to her. "Race you to the other side!" She smirked, and before he could even call out a beginning, she was racing him to the clouds on the other end. "Hey!" he protested.

They continued this for a while, laughing, when all of a sudden, the clouds turned dark. A storm began building with such speed, and lightning flashed.

Murtagh looked above him. Something wasn't right.

Suddenly, the scene changed so quickly. He was drowning, drowning. He was being pulled down by an invisible force, and no amount of struggling was helping him reach the surface to break towards the top of the ocean.

Struggling, running out of breath, he tried his hardest to swim to the ever disappearing light. But his strength was fading.

Finally, when his strength faded, he knew he was going to die. Exhausted, he closed his eyes. The end had come. He couldn't breath.

Gasping, Murtagh woke up, panting hard, sweating. A red face was by him, a dragon. 'Murtagh?' came a familiar face.

He didn't know where he was. He didn't understand why there was a red dragon face by him... Oh. It was Thorn. He was in his massive quarters in the dragon rider building that Eragon had built for the riders.

Swiftly getting out of bed, he scurried to the far end of his massive room that could hold a huge dragon to the bowl of water on a wooden desk on the far end. He needed to clear his head. When he did, the cool water barely returning his senses, he turned away from the bowl and leaned against his desk.

Thorn was by his side in an instant. 'Is it the dreams again?' he asked.

Murtagh nodded. It always seemed so real, and yet, the ending was always the same: he drowned.

At this point, Thorn had a frown, or Murtagh could sense that since his eyes were closed. 'You can barely sleep at night, Murtagh. I think it's time to see a healer.'

"No," Murtagh shook his head, eyes still closed, still panting. "It's nothing, Thorn."

'Don't tell me it's nothing!' Thorn protested. 'This isn't normal, all these nightmares!'

A small smile crept on Murtagh's lips at this. "The beginning is exhilarating though!"

Now Thorn was concerned, and he hesitated. 'You're... wanting to keep these dreams, just for the beginning?!'

"You've never flown on a sword, before, Thorn. You wouldn't understand."

'Nobody flies on swords, Murtagh,' Thorn pointed out. 'It's not possible. In all honesty, you'd think that flying on a dragon is better since that's real!'

"Nobody flies on swords yet, Thorn."

Thorn rolled his eyes. 'In your dreams, my rider.'

Murtagh couldn't help but smile again. He bathed in the vague memories of the dream, which were already slipping away. While he didn't particularly enjoy the ending, the flying on the sword part was worth it. He relished in as much of the feeling as he could remember, which was already slipping away again. Oh well. If he knew the pattern well enough, he would be dreaming this again.

Thorn shook his head. 'I'm going back to bed.'

"Night, Thorn."

(The Next Day)

He knew he had dark circles under his eyes. They were a regular occurrence now. Eragon had taken notice a long time ago, and he'd been starting to give him concerned looks every day.

Ignoring his brother as he sat by him at the head table, he ate his food. He frowned. It was vegetarian, as always. Oh well, he'd get used to it.

Finally, Eragon, who was sitting to his left, piped up, "Another restless night?"

"Something like that," Murtagh frowned, not wanting to have this conversation.

"You know," Eragon breached, being careful with his words. "You can always see a healer."

"Oh!" Murtagh exclaimed, exasperated now. "Not this again!"

"I just hate to see you like this," Eragon was worried.

"I'm fine!" Murtagh snapped, and he went back to eating.

Eragon hesitated, but then he continued the conversation, much to Murtagh's chagrin. "Thorn talked to me. He said you like having these dreams."

Figures his dragon would talk to Eragon. And Eragon had to have that worried tone in his voice. "Not the ending," Murtagh corrected him in a hurry. "But the beginning, it's like nothing you've ever seen or experienced!"

"Yes, flying swords," Eragon humphed, shaking his head. "I'm beginning to think that maybe I should order you to see a healer. Liking a dream just because the beginning is all nice isn't a good enough reason."

"For the last time," Murtagh was annoyed. "I'm not going to a healer, Eragon! Besides, it'll probably pass."

"You're getting these dreams again and again!" Eragon pointed out.

"Yes. And?"

"And you're not noticing how it's affecting you!" Eragon pointed at their students, humans, dragons, elves, urgals, dwarves, all spread out over the massive dining hall. Some of the elves who assisted in the training were also scattered abroad. Ever since the end of the war, five years ago, Murtagh had slowly come to call this place home. He'd wandered with Thorn for a bit, but had finally come to Eragon.

It had taken time to repair his relationship with those in Alagaesia, and to get them to trust him. While things weren't perfect, they were better than they had been. Strange to say, the elves had seem more ready to forgive than others.

But everyone had noticed how he'd changed slowly, lately, ever since these dreams cropped up. While they'd done their best to conceal it from others outside of Alagaesia, at the same time, everyone was worried. Some additional elves who had come to live here, who were excellent healers, had even approached him after this had gone on for some time. But, as always, Murtagh refused. He was not going to let anyone examine him, especially his mind.

When Eragon saw that he couldn't persuade him, he backed off some. "At least let them give you some sort of charm or ward to help you sleep."

Murtagh frowned. Eragon was practically begging him at this point. He and Thorn were closer to Eragon and Saphira the most, and Eragon had been emotionally helping him out with the trauma he'd endured at Galbatorix's hands. That was probably because he and Thorn wouldn't let anyone else help them.

"If you're so concerned," Murtagh began slowly, well aware that Thorn had probably asked Eragon and Saphira for help. Saphira was out flying with Thorn, and Eragon had evidently decided to bring it up now. "Then why don't you do it?"

"Because I'm still learning myself," Eragon was firm. "I wouldn't know how to word the spell to help you sleep."

"Then ask for help!" Murtagh snapped.

"Do you see how irritable you are?" Eragon pointed out, and Murtagh backed off. He hadn't noticed. "Besides, you'll just be angry with me if I break your trust in such a way. I know you, Murtagh. You don't want something of this nature discussed with others behind your back. I won't break your trust. I promised you that."

Murtagh hesitated. It was reasonable, what Eragon said. "And your research found nothing?" After all, his had found none. The only reason he had researched was because Thorn was bugging him. He knew it was pointless though. No magician had ever been able to help him with this. And the dreams always went away eventually, before coming back.

Eragon shook his head. "I'd ask someone if I knew it wouldn't upset you so much. No, I think you need to ask for yourself."

As Eragon ended the conversation at that, Murtagh considered. It was just a simple sleeping spell, not that they ever worked. Though the chances of whichever elf he asked would think that this had to do with nightmares about Galbatorix, as he'd told no one but Thorn, Saphira, and Eragon what his dreams were really about. Murtagh found his gut clenching. He'd rather let the dreams pass.

Eragon seemed to notice this. "They won't judge you, you know," the younger sibling was soft in his tone.

Once more, Murtagh considered his options. But maybe, if it was one elf...

"Fine!" Murtagh finally conceded. "If only to get you off of my back!" He knew it wouldn't work, but he had to put on some sort of show, or his brother would be onto him again.

Eragon seemed relieved. "You know I worry about you."

"Too much." And he was grumpy.

Eragon grinned. "Can you blame me? We're siblings after all."

"I hate you."

"No you don't," Eragon grinned even more widely.

"Jerk," Murtagh muttered under his breath and Eragon chuckled. But he was grateful for the bantering. Their bond of friendship was increasing once more since he'd come here, becoming stronger than it was before. And, their brotherhood was increasing.

Murtagh sighed, trying to decide which elf to ask. While he was sure anyone he asked would agree to confidentiality, at the same time, he wanted to make sure that his choice was wise.

Eragon was watching him. "You don't have to do anything now," he pointed out. "You can think about it, how you want to approach it, that is."

"That's what I'm doing," Murtagh was dry. But then he let his brother off. He could see what his brother meant. He really was snappy today. "Sorry," he apologized quickly.

Shrugging, Eragon bumped his shoulder. "I just want you to get more rest."

"I will," Murtagh promised, deep in thought once more.

(The Next Day)

It didn't take long for Murtagh to decide. For one, Eragon kept giving him "the look". He was tired of his brother worrying about him.

'Well that's interesting,' Thorn was grinning. 'His worry is a great motivator for you.'

'Shut up,' Murtagh growled playfully, but he didn't really mean it.

It was a spur of the moment decision. While he wasn't sure he was comfortable with any the elves he lived with having a knowledge of this, he thought it would be the lesser of two evils to have someone who wasn't always living at the dragon hold be in on the secret. After all, if what Eragon said was right, then an elf would be more likely to give him confidentiality.

So, when Vanir, an elf who showed up sometimes as ambassador of the elves, came up to the stronghold, Murtagh made a point to work up the courage to talk to him. He figured, since the guy was an elf, he had to know a thing or to.

He corned Vanir in the library and exchanged greetings. Then, tapping down his emotions, he asked, "Do you have a moment to talk?"

The elf seemed surprised. "Of course?" He was uncertain and put down the scroll he was reading, giving the rider his full attention.

The rider hesitated. Then, "Do you know of any way to stop dreams?"

"Why would you want to?" Vanir was puzzled. "Dreams, whether for elf or human, are absolutely essential to the sleep process."

"Unless you dream of dying again and again," Murtagh pointed out.

He seemed stunned. "Good point," he replied. "But I'm not sure I can help you. There is still much I'm learning about magic. I'm young, and you need someone with more experience."

Murtagh wanted to groan inside. That meant he'd have to ask someone else. And he'd just let someone know without asking for confidentiality first. He'd meant to try the waters rather than ask for confidentiality outright, as he thought it would go over better. "Ah," he merely replied, and nodded to him, backing away.

Vanir stopped him at this. "Thorn said you were having bad dreams?" It irked him that Thorn had mentioned this to the elf without his permission.

"Not completely," Murtagh corrected. "It's just the ending. I'd rather keep the beginning. It's a pretty nice beginning."

Looking thoughtful, though somewhat intrigued no doubt due to him wanting to keep the beginning, as if he wasn't sure this was normal for humans, Vanir replied, "I might be able to do some research, see what I can find. Have you looked in the library here?"

"Nothing on nightmares," Murtagh reassured him, glad that he'd done that bit of homework. There was no need to mention, either, what he'd been through as a youth in this regards.

Nodding, Vanir offered, "Have you talked to a healer?"

Murtagh hesitated. "Actually, I was..." he couldn't finish.

An amused expression was on Vanir. "Not comfortable?"

"With those living with me knowing?" Murtagh replied. "No." And he left out vital details. He wasn't comfortable with anyone, even Thorn, knowing how long an issue this had been in his life.

"Ah."

An awkward silence followed, and Vanir offered, "I won't tell anyone." It was spoken in the ancient language.

"Thanks," Murtagh rubbed his hair in an awkward manner. Once more, there was silence. "It's probably not a big deal, anyways."

"You really should get some sleep," Vanir was suddenly serious, calm. He gave the red rider a concerned look. "I can see the dark circles under your eyes."

"I know," Murtagh grumbled. He left then, not wanting to continue awkward conversation. Going outside, he met Thorn, he landed when he saw his rider. 'Not able to find anyone?'

'No,' Murtagh said. 'At least no one I feel comfortable with.'

Thorn shook his head, frustrated. 'For goodness sake! Go to a healer!'

'No!' Murtagh refused. 'Not for something like this! It won't work anyways!'

'Like Eragon said, they won't judge!' Thorn protested.

'No!' Murtagh was adamant, and Thorn started grumbling. But he dropped the subject, in a bad mood all of a sudden.

Murtagh wanted to scream. It wasn't that big of a deal! He'd figure out a different way! Besides, they always went away. Eventually.

'Sure you won't regret this?' Thorn was doubtful, and he trotted off.

Murtagh rolled his eyes. He was sarcastic.

'Of course I will.'

(Later that night)

He was having the same dream again. And he was being dragged under the water. He couldn't breathe, and struggle as he might, he was still being pulled to the bottom of the ocean.

He struggled one last time. The light was closing in on him, turning to darkness.

'Murtagh!' a voice shouted, and he didn't recognize it, nor the words. He struggled harder again, weaker, but to no avail.

'Murtagh!'

There was that desperate voice again. But it was too late. He was tired... so tired...

'Murtagh!' the voice shouted, and suddenly there was pain on his leg. He screamed aloud and when he came to, he saw he was on his bed in his room, the covers tossed on the floor, and there was a red dragon in the room biting him!

His leg hurt, and he thrashed, but the dragon let go, staring at him. Murtagh toppled on the floor, knowing his leg was bleeding, trying to get away from the ferocious red dragon-

Oh. It was Thorn.

Murtagh took a moment to look around his settings, realizing he was Murtagh. He was bonded to Thorn. Then it dawned on him.

Facing Thorn, he asked in the most exasperated way, "Why did you bite me?"

The dragon snorted. 'You weren't waking up, and you were suffocating in your sleep. I could feel it.'

Oh. That explained it.

The dragon trotted over, around the bed, and Murtagh worked hard to not flinch. Finally, Thorn stopped in front of him, tail lashing. 'I've had enough of this. You're seeing a healer. This isn't normal Murtagh.'

'Oh, but the flying swords!' Murtagh begged.

'Forget the flying swords!' Thorn snapped. 'And tend to your leg! You're being a little toddler, you know that?'

Grumbling, Murtagh reached down and healed his wound. It was then he realized how exhausted he was. He swayed when he was done healing himself, and Thorn steadied him.

As he tried to make his way to his bed, he realized he was too tired to stand up and climb into bed. So, Thorn curled around him and he curled into Thorn's side, which took less energy. Fortunately, Thorn produced enough heat, so he wasn't cold.

It was too much to sleep at the moment, though he did sort of go in and out. But when he went under, finally, he was flying on his sword again, his lady friend by his side on her sword. It was exhilarating!

Something shifted underneath him, and Murtagh woke straight up only to see Thorn standing above him. 'What was that for?' he snapped.

'Call a healer,' Thorn demanded, tail lashing again.

'Why?' Murtagh replied incredulously.

'You're having that dream again!' Thorn snapped. 'Call a healer!'

'No!' Murtagh refused, pouting.

'Then I'll call one!' Thorn hissed at him, and before Murtagh could protest, he knew healers were being called. He groaned.

A knock on the door sounded and Thorn called out, 'Come in.'

"No!" Murtagh protested. "I'm fine!"

'Come in!' Thorn overrode him. To Murtagh's frustrations, they seemed to listen to his dragon more than him. In walked several elves, fortunately all male considering the time of night, and Eragon. Vanir was among them and raised an eyebrow.

"What seems to be the problem?" Eragon asked, concern in his gaze.

Murtagh snorted and tried to stand up but couldn't because he was exhausted. "Nothing's the problem!" he snapped. "Thorn's going overboard."

'He was suffocating in his sleep,' came Thorn's agitated voice, and at this point, they were giving him the attention, not Murtagh. 'He can't sleep at night. He's exhausted. I couldn't wake him up when he was suffocating in his nightmares, so I had to resort to physical means just to get him up so he could breathe!'

An elf with dark brown hair glanced at Murtagh, a healer no doubt. "Nightmares?" he inquired.

"It's fine!" Murtagh reassured them, and finally managed to stumble before collapsing in his bed.

Eragon frowned when he saw this. "It's not fine," he told his brother. He sat on the edge of the bed. "You can't sleep! You can't function!"

Groaning, Murtagh closed his eyes. He didn't want to deal with this at this time of night.

One of the elves walked over, murmuring in the ancient language, what Murtagh assumed, in his state of mind, was a spell. Opening a single eye, he saw it was the one with dark brown hair. He didn't remember his name. He was simply too tired to think of who was in his room apart from Eragon. "What kind of nightmares?" the elf asked when he was done muttering in the ancient language. "Galbatorix?"

"No!" Murtagh was exasperated. "In all honesty, this isn't necessary! Besides, I like the beginning!"

"The beginning?" the elf raised his eyebrows, and Murtagh blushed.

'He dreams about flying swords,' Thorn answered for him seeing he wasn't cooperative.

"No, I dream about flying on a sword," Murtagh corrected. "And it's fine, until the end."

'It's fine until he drowns,' Thorn was dry.

"He bit me," Murtagh pointed at his dragon.

'To wake you up! You were suffocating and not responding to my voice! And it wasn't that hard!'

"You still drew blood," Murtagh accused.

Thorn's tail lashed in agitation.

The elf sighed, having had enough. "We should look into it," he turned to Eragon. "At this point, it's rather concerning he's attached to the dream. "

"You don't think this is related to anything he went through?" Eragon asked, glancing at his brother.

"Possibly," the elf shrugged. "But we won't know until we examine his mind."

"NO!" Murtagh was adamant.

'For goodness sakes!' Thorn hissed at him. 'Don't you realize how this is affecting you? Just let them help you for once!'

"No one's going into my mind!" Murtagh was insistent.

Eragon turned to Murtagh, pleading. "If they don't go into anything personal, will you let them?"

"Actually," the elf corrected him. "We might need to access the memories of what he's been through, in case it's linked. That could be why he's suffering the nightmares."

Murtagh cringed. "NO." he was adamant.

Thorn's tail lashed. 'Do what you must,' he gave his permission. 'I'll help you if necessary, even if my rider isn't cooperative.'

"Thorn!" Murtagh protested, shocked that his dragon would do such a thing. Thorn only glared, and Murtagh could tell that he'd had enough of the ordeal that Murtagh was going through. It was affecting everyone. But, as he didn't realize until now, it was affecting Thorn the most because they were bonded. And at that, he relented. "Okay, fine!" Murtagh consented grudgingly. "But only if necessary!" And he rubbed his face in his hands.

"This won't hurt," the elf healer reassured him. That was the only warning he gave before there was a gentle pressure on his mind.

Murtagh's barriers were up. 'For goodness sake! Let him in!' Thorn hissed. And so, reluctantly, Murtagh let his barriers down.

The elf began examining the dream that had Thorn so worried. Murtagh flinched as he did so. He seemed puzzled. With a sigh, he was out of his mind. "I can't see this as being related when he went to under Galbatorix," he admitted, and Murtagh was relieved.

At this point, the healers were murmuring, wondering what to do. "Dreamless nights aren't good," they considered, and there was reluctance to take away his dreams.

"How about just targeting this dream?" Another elf suggested.

"No!" Murtagh immediately protested.

But Thorn overrode him. 'Sounds good.'

Murtagh glared. They did not have his permission. "I'm not giving up the dream!" he hissed.

Eragon looked exasperated at this point. "Be reasonable, Murtagh," he urged him. "This is harming you more than helping you. Do you really want to keep a nightmare?"

Looking away, Murtagh didn't answer for a moment. Finally, he demanded, "Are you going to do something against my will?"

He looked back at them and there was hesitation. Even Eragon seemed hesitant as they brought up the sensitive subject of free will. Thorn was immediately cautious and sorrowful.

Realizing that he had gained an advantage, Murtagh pushed. "If you want to force me, then you're going to have a fight. As I've said many times, I won't go down without fighting. And that includes friends who want to take advantage of me."

They were all uncomfortable, but Murtagh didn't care. What he did care about, though was making a point. They would either have to force him or drop it. And he was fairly sure that at least the elves wouldn't cross the line of forcing him, though. He wasn't sure about Eragon, however. His brother had been raised by humans, and humans had different view points.

At the same time, Murtagh knew that Eragon was outnumbered. Eragon couldn't force the elves to do something they didn't want to do. And, as Murtagh saw the firm and upset expression on Eragon's face, he knew that he'd won. Eragon deflated, giving up, and the elves looked sorrowful. Even Thorn looked uncomfortable with the idea of using force.

He had won. They wouldn't do anything to him. That didn't mean that made them happy, though.

"Murtagh," Vanir tried, looking worried. He knew they were going to try persuasion now. "If you don't want us to take the dream away, then perhaps we can work together to come up with an alternative. This isn't natural. You have a lot of people concerned about you."

'Including you?' Murtagh was wondering. He considered everything. Thorn was pleading with him across the link.

"I don't know why I'm so attached," Murtagh finally admitted. And he began opening up some. "But, it's like this is apart of me. I don't mind something to help me sleep, though."

"Apart of you?" Eragon asked.

Murtagh debated. He'd told no one, not even Thorn this. Did he really want to?

"This has been going on for years," he finally admitted with a sigh. "It's worse sometimes than others. When I was young, still in Morzan's castle, I suffered the dreams. Not Morzan nor Selena, with all their magic, could help. It's off and on. I've been to other healers too. From what I know, Galbatorix ordered it because it, because, I suspect, he was embarrassed that me, being Morzan and Selena's son, was going through this. He made sure to keep it quiet.

"But no one could stop the dreams. They've even tried enchanting them to go away. It never works. It always comes back. They always go away on their own, eventually. Then they return in a couple of years."

At this, the elves all looked at each other intrigued by the new information. "I'll try a spell," the elf healer offered, and he seemed at loss of what to do. But even he seemed at a loss. What could they do if Galbatorix couldn't stop it? With the newfound information, they knew it would be hard to find anything that would work. But Murtagh nodded, grateful for the help. And maybe this information would get them to back off.

As the elf began whispering, he was out in a light.

(Murtagh Point of View)

Murtagh was standing in front of someone that looked a lot like him. The only exception was that the man's hair was longer than his had ever been. He was wearing a long, black overcoat, sword strapped to his back instead of his waist. His hair was held in a high ponytail. This was the man he became when he would fly on the sword at night. Somehow he knew that, even though he'd never seen him before.

"Who are you?" Murtagh asked, not sure what to think of this strange look alike.

The man smiled. Then, in the same voice as Murtagh, he said, "I'm you."

Murtagh woke with a start, dead frightened. It was morning, but Thorn was still asleep, exhausted no doubt.

A voice that was his own sounded in his head. 'Be careful of who you trust. We don't want to get murdered again.'

Breathing hard, Murtagh put his face in his hands. It made no sense.

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