Disclaimer: Eragon belongs to Christopher Paolini, not to me. If it belonged to me, instead on one last book, I would have done two. If it were mine, it would have the following story. Enjoy!


Chapter 1

"Eragon, will you grant me a few moments more?" Nasuada said patiently waiting as her War Council left her tent.

She stood next to a table, stunning in a dress of green and yellow. Her arms were in bandages, though her wounds had long healed from the time when The Trial of the Long Knives took place. Her hand waivered over the charts and maps of Alagaesia as Jormundur next to her, finished inscribing into a piece of parchment the last details of their plan.

As asked, Eragon remained in the tent, watching as one by one the Varden's highest officials left. He wasn't wearing any armour, but still he looked ready for a fight if it needed to be so. His hand rested firmly on Brisingr.

King Orrin had been the first to leave, followed by the dwarves' king Orik, with whom Eragon shared an amused smile. Eragon had promised to his foster brother to join him for a couple rounds of his best mead in honour of their forthcoming battle against Belatona's troops and whatever surprise Galbatorix might have hidden for them there. It was a reunion he wanted to have for it had been long since the dwarf could leisure time from his kingly duties to talk to a friend.

I'm off to hunt, do not endanger your life while I'm gone. Saphira said to him.

The sapphire dragon had been lounging outside Nasuada's tent, paying great attention to what was being said, and occasionally putting in her opinion, and now that it was over, she thought best to prepare herself.

Eragon silently agreed with her, though he berated her for reminding him of many of his poor taken decisions that had gotten him in trouble. Amused, Saphira release a muffled grunt that Eragon quickly recognized it as one of her chuckles. He felt how the tent vibrated and the ground shook as the dragon took her leave.

The last to leave was Arya.

She was dressed in her usual black colours. Though she looked a little weary since they had travelled from the Burning Plains to Belatona there had been little rest for all. Less since the siege of Feinster, but as always to Eragon she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, regardless of race. His chest ached for the moment their eyes met, and with what he saw, he knew the elf woman would wait for him outside. They had lots to talk about before they set out to capture Belatona.

As the elf left, Eragon walked closer to Nasuada, noticing that the witch-child Elva wasn't around. She normally spent her days in Nasuada's company, using her blessed-curse to occasionally help the Varden.

"I would like to share a most intriguing matter with you, Eragon seeing as it is only natural that you as a Rider must know."

Eragon was taken back at her choice of words. "You seem nervous."

Nasuada sighed heading to sit on one of the chairs she had placed around. "I do not know how I should feel about this." The Varden leader watched as the Rider moved a close by chair to sit facing her. He waited a few moments before he nodded, urging the woman to continue.

Eragon was pledged to service her, but that didn't change the fact that they had become good friends.

Nasuada was greatly troubled, and now that Eragon knew this he could see that all during the War meting she had been tense. He had attributed that to their mighty quest of killing the Evil King, but it wasn't all that.

Nasuada took a deep breath, feeling silly. She was a strong woman, and as a leader she did not enjoy allowing her true emotions and thought to roam free. However this was Eragon, just by seeing his face and what he represented made her think the worst. The Varden depended on Eragon and Saphira. It had been so since the moment that the dragon had hatched for the once farm boy. She wondered if something as farfetched as that could happen once more.

"Our spies at Uru'baen have confirmed that the last dragon egg in Galbatorix possession," As she spoke those words, the air in Eragon's lungs left him. It didn't appear so, but his lungs were fighting against him for air. His throat had constricted, his face had paled and his whole body had tensed as he listened. At the edges of his mind he could feel the thundering roar that was forming in Saphira, as she too thought the worst of the worst. ". . . has been stolen."

What he felt next vaguely remembered him of a winter morning of his past back in Carvahall. He had been thirteen at the time, while Roran was fourteen. They were in that state in their brotherhood when tricking each other was the best source of fun they could find in their little world. Eragon had managed to get Roran's trousers to fall at the right moment while they were in town, and so the cousins had gotten into a fight. Garrow, who had been speaking to the then storyteller Brom and Horst at the moment, had had enough of their behaviour and so he poured cold water at them. They had to walk back home in the freezing winter all wet, with the storyteller and smith's laughs still echoing on their ears.

The news made him feel just like that. Like Nasuada had thrown a bucket of cold water to his face. His thoughts began to race, as they got intertwined with those of Saphira, who was flying towards him.

What was he to do now? Was the dragon hatched? Or only stolen? Who had stolen it? And how? Was this person an ally or foe?

Eragon did not know if he could find the courage to keep moving having three of the last dragons in the land against him. It was too much for him to handle. He turned to Nasuada, who had been watching him intently. "When did this happen?"

"We do not know. This has reached our spies ears just this month. But it seems as it was stolen months ago."

The tent shook again by the thundering of wings and with a thud Saphira landed in front of the tent. They heard the surprised exclamations of the Nighthawks that were stationed on the entrance of the tent, as Saphira's head emerged from there. Her long neck twisted to face Nasuada, one eye on her.

How can you be certain?

Nasuada took her time to answer, aware that not only did she have the undivided attention of a dragon, but also of her rider. It was moments like these that she tended to forget that Eragon and Saphira were her friends, their reputation sometimes demoralized her. "Our spies in the King's city have yet to lead us astray. Then there is the matter of his movements."

"Movements?" Eragon asked wondering what the woman was referring to. His heart was getting heavier and heavier.

The Varden leader stared at Eragon, noticing how Saphira moved her head to rest at the floor. Her eyes were as ever watchful, still. Nasuada felt her strengths returning. "Galbatorix was spotted patrolling the nearest miles from Uru'baen for five days in a row."

Eragon's eyes widen, knowing the full implications of what that meant. Galbatorix patrolling himself? "When was that?"

"Two days after our victory in the Burning Plains."

That was several months ago. Saphira said who had Eragon's hand over her head. The dragon took seconds to let the information settle in. The egg had been stolen months ago, and she only knew of this now. Is there a possibility that the egg has hatched already?

"We haven't found any indication."

"There must be the possibility." Eragon said. "If not, why would Galbatorix busy himself with finding it?"

Nasuada shrugged her eyes seemed tired. She had a thousand things to do, and this only made matters worse that they could ever be. "He must fear that it could come to our hands, if the blasted king fears something at all."

But who could have stolen it?

"Someone in his trust?" Eragon asked

"I highly doubt it. Who could he trust with the last egg?"

No one. Not after Brom managed to steal me from his vaults.

They remained in silence, knowing this to be true. Thousands of possibilities ran though Eragon's mind that it gave him a headache. There was a person out there, being hunted by the King, and he was in possession of the last dragon egg in Alagaesia. Eragon didn't know what to feel. He was sympathetic towards that person for he too once was hunted across the continent by the King's servants, but he was wary too. This person must be of great importance. That he known, Galbatorix never moved from his citadel to look for him or Saphira, on any of the battles they had fought. Galbatorix had Murtagh, and the heavens knew how many Eldunarí. Who could this thief be?

Nasuada had nothing more to say to Eragon, and so he took his leave. He had many a thing to think about, and people to meet, though he did not know how he was to face them. Nasuada had not said that he had to keep this information a secret, but he didn't fell like anyone else should know.

Like he had earlier thought, Arya stood waiting for him outside Nasuada's tent, casually leading against Saphira who had moved away from the entrance.

At a first glance, the elf female got the indication that something had happened, but as it was expected of her she held on her questions for later. Eragon did not look good. He was paled, and it looked like the weight on his shoulders had intensified. Eragon waited by her side, not uttering a word, and followed her when she began to walk. He didn't know where she was leading him to, but he wished it was to a private place for he had decided to tell her, if she didn't already know.


Days later . . .

Eragon watched as Roran made his way to Katrina. Seeing his cousin walk, talk and smile was elevating the horrible feeling he had gotten ever since that wall had fallen on Roran and his men. It had been devastating thinking that victory over Belatona would have cost him his only family, but since it hadn't, he was able to breathe a sigh of relief. His wards had come in handy.

After the siege of Belatona, werecats arrived at the Varden camp and their leader Grimrr Halfpaw agreed to join the Varden and their cause.

At the moment, Arya was with him and so was Orik. They were reliving certain memories from the previous battle, enjoying each other's company when Eragon felt uneasy. He stretched his mind over to Saphira who was patrolling the city's skies on her own. He didn't have the need to tell her his feelings for she had felt them herself if not stronger.

The air is different. She said, and Eragon could imagine how she would dip her tongue into the air to taste it as she normally would.

Just then, a soldier emerged from where the main entrance of the city was, seeming to be headed to Nasuada's hall. Over his shoulder he appeared to have a woman. Her skirts flew as she struggled against the soldier's hold on her, pounding on his back.

"Unhand me! Unhand me now if you have half a thought of what is good for you!" She threatened, squirming still.

As he passed next to Eragon and his companions, the soldier made a reverence to each.

"Shadeslayer?" The woman on his shoulder asked, and raised her head to look at the people the soldier had just passed. Her eyes widen and her mouth sagged, and as he stared at her back Eragon could had sworn he saw tears forming in her eyes. "SHADESLAYER!" She yelled at the top of her lugs, causing all to be in the vicinity to stop what they were doing to look at her. Even the man that carried her stopped his stride.

He felt the woman go stiff in his shoulder, and he wondered at that just before he felt her knee hit his chest. The blow caused the air to leave his lungs, and in the desperation to get it back, the woman managed to escape him.

Eragon, Arya and Orik stood shocked, but ready for a fight. As the woman desperately made her way over to them, Eragon wondered if she was an assassin.

The trio, as their watchers, were ready for anything the woman could dish out, except her clinging to Eragon's boot. It hadn't been a surprise to see her jump to Eragon like a wild animal to its prey, but for this woman to latch herself to his leg and begging to cry was beyond him. As was her begging.

"Please, please Shadeslayer, I require your help!" She said several things more, but the shock and her sobbing made it impossible for him to understand.

Eragon thought of pushing the woman away, however that wouldn't be good. She seemed to be in great pain. If she wanted to hurt him or kill him, then she had already gotten many opportunities that she had not taken. Eragon looked down and saw her face. Her tear stricken face pierced his heart. He had always been a good hearted guy, seeing a girl cry was truly horrible.

He felt Arya grabbing his arm. Looking at her, he saw that she was only asking him to be careful.

Wary, Eragon crouched to be at her level. He noticed that under the tears and grim of travel, the woman was quite pretty.

"He is hurt, Shadeslayer. Please help me, if not he will die. He is so stubborn he did not allow me to heal his wounds. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" The woman said hitting her forehead with her fists. Eragon took her wrist, and waited for her to look at him to smile.

"I'll help whichever way I can."

Her eyes shone brightly, and once more she jumped at him, this time clinging to his neck.

"Thank you, Shadeslayer!" She whispered in his ear, making the hairs in the back of his neck stand on end. This was the first time he had a woman this close to him, hugging him so tightly. She pulled away. "We must leave immediately! We cannot waste time." She stood up, grabbing his arm to pull him.

Eragon allowed himself to be pulled away, though he didn't understand why.

Little one. Saphira said landing between a house and a bakery right in front of the woman. She roared at her, but the human female did not seemed fazed. She just stood there watching Saphira, as the dragon glared at her. Unhand Eragon.

The woman did as the dragon commanded, though she didn't remain quite. "But Shadeslayer promised! He is to help me. Draco is injured and I need his help!" Her desperation reached the dragon, and just as Eragon had felt, Saphira knew that this woman meant no harm.

"This does not seem wise."

The woman turned to look next to Eragon. Arya was there, her sword drawn. Behind her were Eragon's personal guards along with their leader Blodhgarm, who were ready to strike down the unknown woman.

"We should at least inform Nasuada." Arya said, as Blodhgarm made his way to human's side.

Eragon thought it was admirable. The woman had not been afraid of the anger of a dragon, and now she was showing the same valiant attitude toward the elf man.

"I need his help, but you seem powerful too. Draco is dying." She told the elf, as Eragon spoke quietly to Arya. She said more to Blodhgarm, but it was lost to each as Saphira spoke into their minds.

Eragon, Arya, Blödhgarm, let us help this woman.

The Rider nodded, though he did not know why he was alright with helping this woman. Not only was she unknown, she could possibly be trying to kill him with a trap. But her intention seemed so pure, that he could not think otherwise. Saphira had the same feelings as he did. They needed to help her.

"Blödhgarm send one of your spellcasters to inform Lady Nasuada. Is this Draco close?" Eragon asked the woman.

She pointed to the East. "A days run. He's in a cave."

To her side, Saphira moved lowering herself as close as she could to the ground. Eragon told other orders to the chosen spellcaster, and then walked to the woman. Once he was close he looked at her, noticing how her uncertaincy at her friend's heath was affecting her. "What is your name?"

"Faraday"

Eragon smiled, offering his hand to her. "Let's go heal your friend, Faraday."


Two hours later, in the sky . . .

"Over there!"

Faraday yelled over the winds. They had been flying for a while. Eragon had been furthered surprised that the woman had jumped on Saphira's back without hesitating but he attributed that to her worry. He had climbed behind her on the saddle, only to have Arya join him. In his mind, she told him she was not to allow him to stupidly walk into a trap alone. On the ground, Blödhgarm and the rest of the elves ran to the directions Faraday had given.

Saphira began to plane downward, landing in a clearing at the mouth of the cave.

Eragon untied the straps holding their legs, when Faraday jumped off Saphira landing on her knees on the ground. Her dress, a meagre remains of what could had possibly been a magnificent gown, got tore at the helm, but it did not stop her. She stood and ran to the dark cave, untroubled by any surprise that might be inside.

Eragon's elf guard arrived in the clearing, their chest barely puffing and panting. They joined Eragon and Arya, who were about to follow after Faraday.

Blödhgarm was about to say something to Eragon, when ruckus from the cave reached them. They heard as Faraday yelled at who must had been her friend, Draco. "STOP IT YOU STUPID ANIMAL!"

She was answered by a booming roar.