As Eragon wakes up, He is greeted by a familiar sight. A darker version of his room. Flashbacks of the year passed. The months of singing stone into this... Mountain was the only word Eragon could comepare it to. Getting up to wash his face he was greeted by a unusually cold wind. Deadly quiet Eragon slowly examines his room for intruders, shielding his mind so a magician may not quickly dispose of him. He looked at his inumerous stack of books on his book shelf, recognizing the familiar sight of Domia Abr Wyrda. Looking across his bed, as his palm began to itch, his hand glowing softly, he noticed a strange shadow. One that wasnt , couldn't , shouldn't be there, yet was. As he reached out for Brisingr he noticed it wasn't on his hip. He wasn't in armor. He soon realized the trouble he might be in if he had to confront an attacker fear begun to grip his cold heart. Eragon didn't breathe. He didn't dare. He started gazing towards the door. Inching towards, ever forward. Ever closer. Opening the door to grab brisingr from the hallway. As soon as he looked back he saw a flash as something teleported far very next thing he did was contact Saphira.
Eragon embraced Sapphire "someone..something tried to attack me"
They wouldn't Dare" she said in direct response" No one would dare attack you with me around. I would crush them like ants"
"Well they did, we need to find out who and why. Sooner rather than later. Have we gotten any news about eggs finding a match? We can't rebuild with Just a elf. This needs to take priority."
"I believe arya has has one hatch with a youngling dwarf. It will be a rare sight to see them grow up together. I will come with you if you wait for me to kill this bear .I have been hunting for days looking for worthy pray." As she says this she show Eragon a image of a bear half the size of Saphira who is herself 4 times the size of a house.
Fine I will walk the grounds while I wait for you" Eragon said quickly ending his contact as his mind drifted to arya. Eragon Was thinking about the first time they met, the fairth he made, the boat of leaves, the gilded Lilly, her true name. Everything that has happened. Is it the same? Is his. He slowly wispered his name. Eragon. Eragon. Invoking the power behind the meaning. It is a powerful name. Yet still weak. Such a beautiful amazing frail shroud. All the failures he shouldn't have made. All the mistakes he will make. All of the travesty he is and the prince of promise he was.
But, he also sees the wonder that he is. He sees the color in his life, wandering so far far boy to elf and dragon rider. As he sees the missteps so to does he see his mighty leaps. To every thorn he had, He had a rose. The death of the king. The life of a friend. For every mistake he made a even greater accomplishment ascends it.
as he continues to walk, he feels his wards flaring to stop a incoming blow. Is something attacking him? Where are they coming from. Eragon turns around to see something throwing a spear at him. As soon as he sees it he flinched and his wards block the projectile. He runs to close the distance between his attacker. Griping Brisingr he realizes that he cannot feel the EldunarÃ. He is alone.
Eragon swings brisingr so fast he would have broken the attackers mace had the atttacker been there, but the attaxker quickly dodges. As Eragon waits for the attack he looks closely at the Thing. It's face is cloaked in shadows to the point Eragon can't tell if he is human. It is of a tall stature, and slender, which doesn't seem to stop him from being a intimating figure. As he swings his mace Eragon prepares to counter strike but then jumps out of the way as the mace passes through his wards. Eragon slips and falls to the ground and all he remembers is a sinister laugh as a mace crashes into his head.