Arya stared out over the stretch of land in front of her. In the satchel that lay across her shoulder, were two dragon eggs, one small but covered with wide veins of a rich blue color, much darker than Saphira's scales, and the other a good bit larger, mainly black, with occasional flecks of dusty brown scattered across the smooth surface.

The portion of dirt that lay before her was set off into four large portions, divided again into the various matches and competitions the Urgals were very much into as a race. But while the games were fairly exciting, they were a little too violent for Arya's taste. She, unlike the other spectators, did not come to enjoy the show. She had come in an attempt to find an Urgal Dragon Rider, the task she had failed to do in the village she had visited recently, which was in a large cave set off in the middle of the Spine. Upon entering the village, she had discovered that the Urgals were already planning their next round of games. She took the information, and now was sitting around watching a bout of wrestling between two youngish-looking Urgals, one the probable victor, due to abnormally large, curved horns.

She sighed, thinking she should have become accustomed to the Urgals harsh way of doing things by now. It had been nearly twenty years since Galbatorix was killed and Nasuada made an alliance with them. But she had never gone to one of their games before. The only reason she had willingly come to such an event was out of necessity. Due to a disturbance before the last Agaetí Mor'ranr (or Peace Festival, in the common tongue of the humans), in which the dragon eggs were presented before the eligible youths of all the races, the Urgals could not send members of their race in time to be present for the ceremony. And so, Arya was stuck tracking Riders-to-be across Alagaësia until the Urgals had at least had a fair chance at one of their own being picked, which, at the moment, didn't seem likely.

Arya glanced down at the ground and kicked the soft dirt with the toe of her boot.

This would make decent farmland, she thought to herself. It's a pity it's being used for such aggression. But she knew it was better than the Urgals, with a necessity to fight, according to traditions of their race, attacking others, and thus renewing war among the land and peoples of Alagaësia.

A rough hand fell upon her left shoulder, and she spun around with inhuman speed, ready for anything.

She soon relaxed as she took in the sight before her: a young Urgal, largely resembling a human youth, other than the grey skin and yellow eyes, and the slight outgrowths on his head that hardly resembled anything at this point. He looked around 14, about the age the Urgals would start looking like Urgals: curled horns, large, bowed legs, and squared-off shoulders. In the brusque speech the Urgals generally spoke in and which Arya knew but little, the Urgal said, "Excuse me. Can I get through? I can't see very well from the back." Arya nodded and smiled, unable to remember the Urgal word for 'yes.' The Urgal stepped in front as she moved aside. Arya turned to walk away, but stopped as something in her satchel flinched.

Arya looked again at the eggs, and realized the speckled brown one was moving, as if the dragon inside was squirming around. She turned back to the young Urgal. "Excuse me," she said, repeating the phrase the child had used earlier. The Urgal turned around, looking confused. Arya placed her hands together in a cupped shape, and motioned for the Urgal to do the same. He followed her motion, with a quizzical expression on his face. Arya took the wiggling egg out of the satchel and placed it in the Urgal's outstretched palms.

The Urgal's eyes suddenly flooded with understanding, and he looked back up at Arya, suddenly realizing who she was. She smiled again, and the Urgal looked back at the egg, realized the movement in the structure, and then made it excruciatingly hard for Arya to read his emotions. She thought he looked excited and worried at the same time, almost as if he was imitating how she felt about Fírnen hatching for her.

There came a soft squeak from inside, and the egg was still for a moment before shaking even more violently as if redoubling its efforts to get out. Then the squeaks came louder and more frequent, until a crowd formed around the Urgal, who Arya had discovered was named Leläkô. The egg began to violently rock back and forth in the Urgals palms. A small crack appeared on the top, then another. Suddenly, one appeared down the side. With another series of squeaks a small brown head appeared out of a spot on the surface especially covered in cracks. Then head was soon followed by a weirdly angled body. The pieces of the shell fell out of his hands as the dragon settled itself in the Urgals arms.

As soon as they touched, the Urgal appeared startled. Arya knew from experience that he had just felt a blast of icy energy race into his body. Arya watched as the palm of his left hand shone bright, and then dimmed, revealing a diffused white oval in the center.

After that, Arya explained with motions, drawings, and simple sentences what had just occurred, and what was brushing against his thoughts was actually the conscience of his dragon, which he should name. After he inquired on what he should name it, she listed off the names of several previous dragons, and then told him he could also choose a name from his own language or another's. Eventually he settled on naming his dragon Hírador, after a previous dragon Rider who died in the fight against Galbatorix. When asked why, Leläkô told her the bravery reflected in the tale of his death would be hard to mirror, even among those of his own race.

Satisfied with the name, Arya contacted an elven spellcaster that was just a little while off, and informed him of what had occurred. This other elf (for he was fluent in the Urgal tongue) would be responsible for the basic rudimentary training Leläkô and Hírador would receive on their way to visit the elves in Du Weldenvarden. There they would be instructed by a small group of spellcasters and swordsmen, archers and warriors for the period of seven months. Then the new pair would fly to the new home of the dragon riders, Fyrsta Nyr (or 'new beginning' in the common tongue of the humans), where the new order of Dragon Riders would continue his training f (abiding by the Riders' saying that 'your training is never complete. There is always more yet to learn').

When the spellcaster arrived and led the new pair away, the crowd dispersed and went back to the ongoing games. Arya made arrangements for the night in a nearby inn (of sorts), and then proceeded to contact the elves on the edge of Du Weldenvarden and those in the elven cities outside, the dwarves, and Eragon and Saphira, far off as they were, to make the news of the new rider known among all the races.

Pleased with her work that day, Arya walked off to enjoy a good night's rest. She would be setting off at dawn to check on things with elves in Ellesméra (after all, she was queen now).

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