A/N Hello people, this is my first attempt at writing fan fiction. I hope you'll like it.

This story starts where "Inheritance" ended. This won't be your usual Eragon leaves Alagesia and rebuilds the riders, and then one day he returns home despite his prophecy and bla bla. Nope, this story will be original, and it will be darn good if I can help it. I'm not going to tell you any of the pairings, but I'll tell you now that Arya is out of the picture for now, she might show up later or in a sequel, but right now she's stuck in Alagesia.

One journey ends, another begins

The bow of the "Talita" plunged through the roaring waves and each impact shook the swan like ship slightly. The storm had swallowed the ship two days ago, and it showed no sign of yielding. The elves fought the weather bravely, their lithe bodies somehow managed to keep some of their inborn grace through the howling winds and smothering rain.

Eragon sat with his legs crossed at the front of the ship, and the storm did naught to stir him. His eyes were closed and his breathing even, he had been sitting there quietly for several hours now. He was busy diving through the ocean with his mind; the magnitude of creatures beneath them was stirring with motion, almost like the storm above breathed life into the beings below. He would never have guessed the ocean was so filled with life, it was everywhere. Some things were impossible to be seen with the naked eye, while others were almost as big as the "Talita."

As the night continued on, his voyage under the sea became a test. He lost his concentration every now and then, but he denied his body any comforts and he quickly dove beneath the water again with his mind. He remembered sitting on a stump in the forest and seeing the life there though his mind, it had been awe-inspiring once he had opened his mind to the sheer amount of life that had been surrounding him. The ocean was equally filled with life, aquatic plants, water breathing animals and even someone who surfaced the water to breathe and then to dive down again.

At the stump in the forest a slight twitch of a twig would have brought him out of his focus. Now his body did not move as he was bombarded with ice cold water, the ship's hair thin bow cut through the waves instead of ramming into them. If the latter had been the case, Eragon would have found himself sprawled on the deck a lot more often. He became aware of Saphira diving through the water like a sea serpent; she had become obsessed with swimming recently. And she did not shy away from battling some of the larger and more dangerous creatures of the ocean.

His concentration broke again and he found himself on his back against the deck of the "Talita." He was utterly soaked with freezing water, he sighed and climbed to his feet, stretching his sore muscles as he did. This time he had lasted very long, and he nodded with contempt to himself before he turned and walked towards the ship cabin.

He nodded at the elves he passed and they greeted him in return, their respect clear in their stance.

He could feel more than see Saphira emerge from the rocking waves, snapping after game. Eragon only chuckled and entered his cabin; the others had their own, one deck below. His cabin was larger though, it was lit with a magical blue light that stood shining just below the ceiling. The white wooden walls reflected the light and gave it a beautiful blue and dim color. His room was tidy and completely dry thanks to the enchantments placed on the cabin, speaking of which, he was dripping wet.

He made to speak a few words of the ancient language that would dry him, but then he stopped himself. This was a good opportunity to practice some wordless magic, sure, he could end up frying himself, but he was intent on becoming good at the art. He took a deep breath and searched for the familiar oddity in his mind, the part where his magic was stored. It took him only a fraction of a second to locate it, but he waited a few seconds with unleashing the magic. He wanted to dry himself, to steam away the water without hurting him. He focused on that, and released the magic, it was odd to be dripping wet one moment, then completely dry the next.

Then, warm and dry, he made his way over to his desk. The only object in the room that was messy. Books, scrolls, parchment and quills covered the desk in a jumble, and there were a few unfortunate ink splatters here and there. He sat down and eyed his maps for the hundredth time. Not "his" maps in the understanding that they had been given to him, but in the sense that they were his. He had made them; there were no maps of the lands beyond Alagesia. The pure impracticality of that had been severe, and he decided that if he mapped the areas they discovered, then others would not need to struggle as much as he did now.

He had read a few books on the subject and had started with a sudden joy, a joy similar to the time when he had first begun writing. The days after they had left Hedarth - the memory sent a pang of sorrow through him – he had mapped the contours of the river, the bends in it and the mountains around, and good landmarks. He had one large scale map that he had tried making with the scale of Alagesia in mind, and several small scale maps.

It didn't take many days before they were on Open Ocean, leaving him with nothing but water to map, there were no landmarks to spot, no small islands, and no shipwrecks. He had searched the sea bottom many times. They had been on the ocean for a week and a half now, the surreal amount of distance they had traveled baffled him. Is the world really this big? And the curiosity in him grew. What would they find out there, past this storm and beyond the ocean?

He could only hope it would be enough, that they could raise the dragons there. He sighed and slumped a little more into his chair and drew a hand through his hair. A small mirror, fit to be held in a hand, lay on top of his bed. He used it to communicate with his friends in Alagesia, Nasuada had one, Roran and Katrina had one, Orik had a large mirror on the wall, whom he had connected his small one too, Arya had one very similar. He had not spoken with her since he had left though; an elf named Elrander always answered him. Eragon knew little about him, only that he and dathedr hailed from the same house.

The thought soured his mood, and he decided that sleep would be a good thing now, he ate a small meal consisting of dried fruits and biscuits, and then he bade Saphira a good night before he embraced his bed.

The next day he awoke with peculiar feeling of importance. A feeling that said that this day will not be like the others, something different was about to happen. He felt a tingling in his palm; and quickly arose from his bed and continued on with his morning ritual.

Do you feel it Saphira? She merely growled in agreement, he could feel her on the deck, carefully eyeing the horizon. Eragon shaved with magic and splashed some water in his face, and he put on a brown cotton shirt and pants. He only took an apple as breakfast before he ventured out to stand with his soul mate. He was not too surprised to see that the storm was completely gone, and had been replaced by an open pale blue sky with a rising, hot sun. They stood like that for a while, basking in the sun and each other's company.

It didn't take long however for him to notice that the color of the ocean was a bit off. He frowned and almost on instinct extended tendrils into the deep, but the ocean was not "deep." The water was shallow, they were in shallow waters. The realization made him laugh with delight. Curios, Saphira looked into his mind and discovered what he had discovered only moments ago. Her roar rattled his skull. The elves quickly flocked them, some looked out past the water for threats.

"Look friends, we're in shallow waters, and land can't be far ahead." He told them. They reacted with cheers and laughs, wine and food was quickly brought about and the air was filled with beautiful voices and flutes. Later during the day one of the female elves - Alanah - shouted: "Shadeslayer! Brightscales! There is something on the horizon."

He approached her and followed her finger with his eyes. It was miniscule, but still there, on the starboard side of their ship there was a small speck on the horizon. He heard gasps around him as they reached out with their minds, he did the same. It was on the border of how far he could extend his mind, but he made it. What they had just seen as a small dot above the water was in reality an old ship mast, and beneath it was a ship. It was old and ravaged by water, but still there.

He returned to himself and took a steadying breath, and then he turned to the others who seemed to have already grasped the meaning of what they had discovered. He gave Alanah a quick smile, "you have good eyes." She returned his smile and dipped her head.

"If there are shipwrecks this far away from Alagesia, then it is almost safe for us to say that they probably did not come from Alagesia." His words wrapped around them like a blanket, silence followed.

"We have passed a certain point, I'm not sure what will happen now, but we'll soon find out."

"We will stand by you, Shadeslayer." Blodghärm said, his feline teeth sparkling in the early midday's sun. Eragon gave him a grin himself and clutched his shoulder. "I know you will."

I am feeling restless, I will scout ahead. Saphira told them stoically, she shifted her legs, and the whole boat cringed. Let me join on this one. He told her, he was as eager as her. He debated on bringing Brisngr with him, but decided not to. If they found danger he had his magic and an overgrown, fire breathing lizard to protect him. He checked Aren, the ring he had who once had belonged Brom, it had substantial amounts of energy. And then there was the heart of hearts that always were close with him, hidden and crammed down into a tiny pin-point prick located just on the inside of his vision. He leapt up on saphira's back and into her leather saddle and she took off from deck, making the entire ship sway from the pure pressure.

She quickly gained height, and soon the "Talita" was nothing more than a small bug down there, but more importantly. The "Talita" was slowly approaching what could only be a giant landmass. From where they were Eragon and Saphira could only see the beginning of it, but the shores stretched far and wide. He found himself grinning goofily as Saphira shouted her triumph to the world. The elves below gently prodded his mind, curios. He merely let them see what he saw.

Saphira began to speed ahead, he noticed his companions worry.

We will be careful. He told Blodghärm, who gave him a mental nod and conveyed his message to the others on the "Talita."

Eragon was surprised at how fast Saphira managed to close the distance, he watched as the "Talita" became smaller and smaller. They did however have the wind in their favor, the boat would be able to get to shore by nightfall, he was certain. Saphira chased the strand with rigorous determination; he saw her yearning, her desire to hunt for new and exciting prey.

When she landed he laughed and quickly jumped down to his feet. Sand. I'm standing on sand. He bent down and grasped two handfuls of yellow-brownish sand, he grinded it against his fingers and watched it pour back to the ground, and he laughed again. Saphira too hummed as she rolled around in the sand.

Let's hope, Saphira said. That we never have to take such a long and boring journey again.

He smiled and had to agree with her, it was only then that he began to study his surroundings. The pale blue water that hit the rocky and sandy shore was beautiful. He thought he could make out the distant figure of the "Talita." But he couldn't be sure. The beach lost its grip fifty paces inland, where a shrubby forest took over, it didn't look like the storm had passed through here; everything was dry and still attached to the ground. A bit farther in he could see a mountain chain that stretched up and down on both sides of the coast, in a way it reminded him of the spine. The nostalgia hit him hard.

He shoved those thoughts away and extended his mind; he spread out his senses and became aware of everything around him, the knobby trees, rodents, mammals and reptilians. Many of them he studied were similar or almost identical to things he had seen in Alagesia, while some things simply left him bewildered.

He noticed however, that something big was coming their way, something flying. He frowned and opened his eyes, Saphira, something is coming.

Saphira had been very busy sniffing at things in the bushes, but once his words brushed against her mind she instantly became rigid and watchful. She silently walked over to him and took up a protective stance. Be nice. He told her, and she growled back. He didn't get to theorize a lot on what the being could be, it became too obvious that it was a dragon pretty quickly. That did nothing to calm Saphira down; deep and threatening sounds emerged in her chest as she eyed the dragon.

Are you inviting a brawl here Saphira? Act politely and keep your wits about you. He told her quietly, not taking his eyes of the dragon. He thought he could see a rider on its back. That made him confused, what in the world is going on here? A dragon and a rider so far away from Alagesia? The mere notion made him dizzy, the dragon race might have never been in danger at all then. Something he had believed all his life.

Stay away from troubling questions now Eragon, I sense those two have no good intent in mind. Saphira told him, he shook his head, Saphira was right of course. He settled his questions behind bars for now, and focused on the possible danger. He and Saphira did not reach out with their mind in fear that they might insult or make a bad impression on the rider and dragon, but he kept his mind open in a way that said he was open for conversation.

The rider and dragon did not attempt to talk to them, but they landed in the sand maybe ten paces away from them. Eragon and Saphira were quiet and still as the other rider climbed down from his pale yellow dragon. Neither of them managed to not to stare at the dragon though, its yellow scales was heavily complimented by the rays of the sun, and the dragon seemed to match the sand very well. Its yellow eyes regarded them with surprisingly much hatred, the dragon was larger than Saphira, and Eragon estimated it was perhaps five years older than her.

The rider wore a fine steel armor with a matching helmet; the gear appeared to be unused and well-polished, it was equipment for war. Saphira shifted when he drew a steel long sword, he could tell she wanted to snarl at him for being so openly challenging. It didn't escape Eragon that the man didn't have a rider's sword.

The man said something in a foreign language; his tone was icily as he approached Eragon with sword in hand. Eragon, wary, held up his hands and said in the ancient language: "Please friend, I do not understand your tongue, and I am not your en-" More was impossible to say, because the hostile rider had not been inclined to listen. Eragon took two quick steps back and avoided the sweeping blade; Saphira growled and nearly attacked him on the spot. The rider ignored her and slashed his sword down at him; Eragon grabbed the hilt of the sword in his left hand and shoved his right palm hard against the other man's plate protected chest. He staggered and fell.

He tried again at diplomacy: "Listen! I do not wi-"

"Garjzla!" Light exploded out of the man's right hand and skidded harmlessly off of his wards. He felt himself grow irritated with this rider; the eldunari linked to his mind was more or less furious. An attack on him was an attack on them.

Eragon quickly checked his wards and found them in top condition, the sheer magnitude of wards on him made it take a moment to go through, and another one to check Saphira's. He was left satisfied, and even managed to turn and sidestep the rider's next attack without much strain. The rider cried out and cut and whacked after him. All attempts were futile, with his elven speed it was not exactly a fair match.

Maybe I should incapacitate him, or knock him out?

Might as well. Saphira hummed in answer, she was amused, he could tell. She turned to the yellow dragon and bared her lips over her curved teeth's in a wolf like manner, she was gloating. The yellow dragon snarled threateningly.

Eragon sighed; he dodged another blow, and as the rider raised it again to cleave down at him, Eragon attacked with a serpents speed. His fist connected with the rider's plated abdomen. However, Eragon's wards protected his hand from breaking at the impact; the other rider evidently had no wards to protect himself from a clenched hand. What kind of dragon rider was this anyway?

Air wheezed out of the man, and he slumped to his knees. The yellow dragon didn't hesitate, a small amount of fear leached into Eragon as he saw the large dragon flung itself at him – only to be intercepted by an equally terrifying Saphira. She smashed into the other dragon and immediately got the upper hand by ambushing the other dragons flank. Claw met tooth and fire met wards as the two roaring dragons dueled each other.

Eragon watched them for only a moment, then he turned his attention back at the rider who was gasping for air, his plate had a fist sized bulk in the abdominal area. His limp fingers tried to get a grip on his weapon; he had apparently dropped the sword in the sand. Eragon bent down and picked up the blade with nimble fingers. It was then he heard the powerful whoosh sound of a large dragon flapping its wings, not just one pair of wings, but several.

"Kveykva!" The man rasped out and held up his glowing right hand. For the second time his wards stopped a spell that day, one that would probably have broken a good part of the bones in his body, he barely noticed the energy drain it had on the belt of Beloth the Wise. He could immediately see the man had done a mistake though, his breathing turned frantic and he slumped to the ground, his dragon whelped, a heart wrenching sound that he hoped he would never hear from Saphira.

Saphira let the dragon wriggle itself out of her grip and to limp over to its rider, snarling at Eragon as it did so. Eragon backed off and gave them space; dragons craved a lot of space. He became aware that the other dragons and riders were about to land, and then both he and Saphira were attacked. He had been waiting for it, but the sheer amount of ramming into his walls nearly broke his resolve the first few seconds. His jaw tensed and he felt himself grow angry, who are these people to attack us in this way! He had battled a shade with his mind and had held it off blast it! He would not let this squabble of riders and dragons tear open his head.

The eldunari was in uproar, he could hear them reach out to him, offering him help to defend his mind, but no, he thought. He couldn't reveal to these people just what kind of power he had, they might not know what an eldunari was, but he was certain that their leaders knew, and they could figure out much when they were told of what happened here today, and they would be told. Eragon had every intention on not killing anyone.

With that thought in mind he took a deep breath and gathered his efforts, and pushed them out with sheer force of will, and then he created a wall with a dwarfish poem. His dwarfish was bad, that made him focus when wording the words, which was all the better. They rammed at his wall, but they could not break in. He threw a quick look at Saphira and saw that she was fighting them just as fiercely. Her eyes were slits, and her body was coiled, ready to snap at anything.

It was a rope pulling contest, he couldn't win, but he could hold on and wait for them to quit. So he mentally dug his heels into the ground and positioned himself with one of his feet behind a rock and held on for dear life. No one got in, but Eragon could see a figure move towards him in his peripheral vision. He gritted his teeth, and lost some of his focus. A change of tactics was needed; he would have to be able to defend himself and Saphira physically and mentally at the same time. For a fleeting moment he considered the possibilities, and then he made his choice. He raised the sword he had only moments ago taken from the yellow rider and walked towards this new threat. His mind was still being attacked, but only by two minds now, his walls shook, but held.

He assessed his opponent with a quick look then he attacked. From the quick glance he took he realized that this was no man, but an elf, and he was only clothed in a thick, brown leather jerkin and held a thin curved sword in his right hand.

Eragon focused his eyes only on the blade of his enemy; he took a moment to build up his walls with this new defense. Then he gritted his teeth and struck at the elf in quick recession. The duel almost ended then and there, the elf was so surprised he had managed to walk with his mind being battered, much less fight. Eragon did not notice his opponents evident surprise, his eyes were glued to his enemy's sword and nothing would steal that attention.

That was what his attackers saw each time they rammed his walls, the sharp and gleaming sword of their own ally. Other things didn't trouble Eragon as he attacked again and again, he barely noticed he gained ground; all he saw was that sword. How it moved, its patterns and methods, the way it blinked in the rays of the sun. Eragon's moves were purely reflexive, his attacks and stances were built up from habit and experience, and he gave no conscious thought as he flew from one attack to the other.

Then suddenly the elf threw his sword to the ground and began chanting. Eragon's walls fell to dust at once, but no one took the advantage. Relieved, his eyes scoured the beach for only a second. Saphira was engaged with two other dragons, one of them an azure blue and large, the other one a straw yellow who was equal to Saphira in size. He could not tell how the battle went for her, but his wards on her held. Another human, this one huge and bulky with muscles under his gleaming plate armor, was rapidly closing the distance to him. And to his despair another dragon and a female human rider was kneeling next to the man he had earlier pummeled in the gut. She rose, from his side and lifted her silver palm at him, muttering words of the ancient language.

The fact that she was willing to end this battle here and now by magic baffled him; one simply did not do that. It was suicidal; it gave him the opportunity to finish her too, if he wanted that. Maybe she was simply confident that one of them would get him, be it sword or spell. He turned towards the elf again, and saw that he was done chanting. Blast it!

Then his body was locked down, held down by incredibly strong and invisible hands that forced him to his knees. He could see the bulky and strong looking man on the outskirts of his vision, he heaved a broad sword. Somewhere he could hear Saphira roar in defiance. Her roar made him aware that death might be coming for him, it made him laugh, a highly maniacal laugh. If they thought he was just going to sit here and take it, then they were terribly wrong. He had the responsibilities of hundreds of eldunari and dragon eggs upon his shoulders. Dying here was simply not going to happen.

He reached into the crooks and crevasses of his mind and found the magic in him, and then he said in the ancient language. "Break the bonds."

There was a snapping sound, and the pressure on him disappeared, the elf staggered backwards. Odd, the elf had not even tried to fight him back, maybe he had been caught off guard again, but Eragon didn't hesitate for a second. He tightened his hand around the hilt of the long sword he had stolen, and brought it up with him in an upwards curve that met the heavy man's broad sword in a shower of sparks. The powerful blow nearly toppled the burly man over. It gave Eragon time to notice the fiery wrath that was close upon him.

Instead of putting it out or creating shields or wards to block it, he took control of it. "Brisingr," he muttered. The flames that had originally been purple now turned sapphire blue. He could easily now turn the fire against the girl who had summoned it, but he didn't wish to harm anyone so he merely cut of the spell. The female maybe fifty feet away from him looked stunned. He turned again and said calmly: "Trysta vindr."

The large man was blasted of his feet by a stormy ball of air; he landed a bit to the left of a fight between furious snarling dragons. The armor took up most of the impact, but the man had definitely felt it, Eragon knew from experience. The elf had now gotten back on his feet and he had reclaimed his sword, he charged Eragon with an almost desperate battle cry.

"Letta!" Eragon shouted, he had not meant to infuse the word with magic, but it happened none the less. The elf suddenly stopped, in mid leap with sword raised and his face set in determination. His eyes widened as he realized what Eragon had done. The toll of the spells had now left him worn down, he could have taken some energy from Aren or from Brisingr, but this way was better. He did not want them to think him invincible.

"Can everybody just calm down!" He shouted loudly in the ancient language. Saphira growled and kicked with her powerful hind legs at the larger azure dragon, it created some space between them. And Saphira used it to stalk over to Eragon's side; the other dragon did not try to follow. Eragon could see the dull yellow one by the side of the muscular human, licking its own wounds. The energy in him lessened by the second and he realized that he still held the elf in midair, he released him, and the elf landed with knees bent.

"We are not your enemy!" He shouted in the language that could tell no lies. He could tell they were communicating with each other through their minds, their faces revealed it. He took advantage of the silence to say a few more words. "I and my soul mate come from the land of Alagesia. We have traveled a long way, and our friends will be here soon with our ship." His magic had taken a big chunk of him though, and the words came between big puffs of air. Then his heart rejoiced when he could clearly see the "Talita" on the horizon.

"Look! There they are." He smiled and pointed, heads quickly whipped around to see. The elf shifted his legs and stepped a little closer to him and Saphira, he was beautiful, like most elves, slanted eyes, narrow face, and waist long silver hair. The large azure dragon moved to his side. The elf spoke the ancient language with perfect pronunciation.

"And who are you dragon rider?" Eragon smiled; glad to have finally broken through all the hostility.

"You may call me Eragon. And the proud dragoness at my side is Saphira."

The elf's slanted eyes glided over Saphira, he dipped his head at her, and she dipped hers in return. "You fight like possessed, Eragon and Saphira."

He couldn't help but to grin, there was a heavy clanking sound and a big purple dragon clad in armor fashioned for a dragon rumbled towards them. It glittered and sparkled in the bright afternoon sun, it brought back images of war with Saphira in a very similar piece. The girl who had attacked him with the fire spell sat astride the great dragon. He had to kick himself mentally, her dragon was large, and he guessed the girl had to be forty or fifty years old. No girl exactly then, although she looked like a woman who had just stepped into maturity.

Unlike her dragon she had no armor, only clothed in brown leather, much like the elf. She was pretty, a heart shaped face, and black strands of hair fell in her eyes, which were nut colored. Her slightly pointed ears revealed her as a dragon rider, not just a mere human spell caster. Her eyes met his, and he could see the uncertainty in her, uncertainty and fear.

Eragon took a quick gulp of air and let his eyes sweep over all four riders and dragons, so they understood that he spoke to all of them.

"I and Saphira have no conflict with you, and you need not fear us." A puff of smoke from Saphira cemented his words. The woman and the elf met each other's eyes and he could practically see the conversation they conveyed with each other.

"Why all the armament?" Eragon asked and gestured at the armored dragon, and the men with plate mail. The elf turned to him and licked his lips, "because," he said slowly. "We are at war."

The reply made him blink, but in a way it made sense. That explains all the hostility then. Saphira said.

"And you thought we were your enemy?" He guessed. The elf nodded with sad eyes.

"You have chosen a bad time to come to Aesdynia, Eragon and Saphira."

A/N And that's the intro, I'm not a natural English speaker, so there will probably be some mistakes here and there in the text, bear with me. You could report some of them if you bother, or maybe you know a beta? I'll update this story each weekend, so new chapters each Friday/Saturday.