Eragon lies on the cold hard ground,
The diamond edges of his father's grave cut his hands,
A whisper travels through the air
Draumr, Islingr.
Saphira flies with the dragons of old,
Her ghostly shape fills the dragonhold
And all at Ellesmera say the prayer,
Draumr, Islingr.
He has lay down to die
He stares at the sky
And closes his eyes.
Draumr, Islingr.
He will fly with Saphira once more.