A/R: I've decided to change very little except for the very end. I'm just continuing Christopher Paolini's work of art that is The Inheritance Cycle. I will hopefully do a reasonably good job, but most every piece of work written by us fanfictioners pales in comparison to the original.

I own nothing other than the few new ideas.

Chapter 1: Goodbye and Hello

[At the end of Inheritance. Right when Eragon is about to set off for the new lands east of Alagaesia]

"Arya," he said. And he whispered her true name. A tremor of recognition ran through her.

She whispered his true name in response, and he too shivered at hearing the fullness of his being.

He opened his mouth to speak again but Arya forestalled him by…

…To his utter surprise, laying a soft, but passionate kiss upon his dry and cracked lips. It was only a light fleeting touch of lips, but in that small contact Eragon felt an exchange pass between him that words in none of the many languages could capture. In it he felt Arya's sorrow at his leaving and an unexpected tenderness towards him, but also a promise of sorts. A promise he could not yet decipher.

Just as Eragon reached a hand out to her she stepped back and was swept away by Firnen's mighty paw and his hand slid through air.

"Farewell Eragon Shur'tugal… Kingkiller," she called down to him from her newly settled perch on Firnen's back.

"Goodbye Arya Drottning… Shadeslayer," Eragon called back a grim smile playing on his lips.

A small smile lit Arya's face as she faded from his sight. He strained his eyes a while longer attempting to catch a last glimpse of her before giving into a fresh torrent of grief. Falling into the storm within himself Eragon released all his emotions one by one and let them run about. In his private hell Eragon grieved the loss of Brom, Arya, Roran, Katrina, and multiple others including the whole of Alagaesia itself.

But woven throughout his grief were a mixture of emotions that Eragon slowly attempted to unravel. In it he found his longing to stay, his love for Arya, his elation at the small kiss they had shared, as well as a thin layer of excitement for the journey they were about to face that sadly paled in comparison next to his immense grief. In a reserved part of his mind he felt Saphira grieving along side him and for her sake he attempted to compose himself.

With his emotions once again in their respective places his grief subsided and his excitement rose. He looked out at the vast sea that was quickly approaching and began to wonder about the secrets that lay hidden beyond.

To keep his mind from dwelling on unpleasant subjects he began to plan. This new land must have mountains, trees, and plenty of game for the young dragons else we'll have to rely on the sea for rations. Eragon shivered as he remembered the beasts that lay in the depth of the waters. Yes, it must have plenty of game, Eragon quickly decided, But it must also have fair temperatures for the eggs to live in comfort… If not we can always build a nursery for the eggs… Preferably on a mountain if there's a large cave even better. As Eragon continued to plan Saphira slowly unwrapped herself from her grief and began to plan with him.

We also need to have a nesting area for the new hatchlings, Saphira added and Eragon's ears reddened at the implications of the claim. From her seat not far from Eragon he heard her let out a soft snort of amusement and his face reddened even more. How easily you are embarrassed, little one, Saphira remarked with amusement coloring her thoughts. Face still burning Eragon retorted, How can I not be? I feel like a mother whose child has just run off and become laden with child. Saphira began to hum and replied, I'm no more a child than you, little one.

"That doesn't change that you just mated," mutterd Eragon under his breath so no others could hear. Shaking his head Eragon continued to plan and ignored Saphira's next comment for it to made his face burn even brighter still.

Soon darkness was swelling around them as the sun fell beneath the horizon. By this time they were well out at sea and no land was in sight in either direction.

Brushing against Glaedr's consciousness Eragon inquired, How long until we reach this mystery land, Ebrithil? Glaedr was slow to respond as he thought back in time, Ten days by ordinary boats. Seeing as this is no ordinary boat, seven days at the least, nine at the most.

A week at sea, Eragon mused with bitter amusement as he began to slowly unwind himself and relax for the long boat ride ahead.

Over the coarse of the week Eragon meditated long hours and delved into the secrets that lay below the water. He flew with Saphira on occasion but other than that the week past both quickly and slowly. While he was meditating he sometimes thought he felt the brush of the Nidhawl's dark mind.

When this happened he quickly drew his mind within himself and looked over board hoping to catch a glimpse of the mighty creature but to no avail.

Then, one day as Eragon and Saphira were out flying they spotted a speck in the distance floating in the sea. As they quickly approached they soon realized that it was none other than the island they had been looking for.

Alerting the elves and Eldunari, Eragon let out a triumphant shout and Saphira roared to the heavens. At last their journey was at an end and they could start rebuilding that which was lost. Flying high and fast Saphira neared the island quickly and to their great relief the island was even larger than that of Vroengard and not only that but on the eastern side of the island lay five large mountains surrounded by small hills that made a three mile perimeter around the mountains and in the tallest of the mountains lay what looked like a massive cave. There were also many smaller alcoves littered throughout the rest of the mountains. To the west was a forest with a stream winding through it that lead to the hills surrounding the mountains. "Hello," Eragon stated. And he knew that from then on everything would be different.