Looking at the distant figure of his cousin on the horizon Eragon let out a small cry before turning to face Saphira.

"It will all be fine little one" she gently covered him with her wing. "rest." Surrounded by the warm blue membrane of her wing, Eragon slowly drifted off to sleep to the gentle growl of saphira's humming.

`tap, tap, tap'

Eragon groaned as he woke up, feeling strangely tired.

Tap, tap, tap.

There was a strange heaviness in his mind like the one he would when Saphira was at too far of a distance to communicate with-

Saphira! He bolted up. where was she, he looked wildly around the vaguely familiar room when a movement caught his eye. He whipped his head around. There , sitting atop the mantle next to a bow and quiver was a blue stone nearly a foot long and polished to perfection with white veins webbed across it. Saphira's egg

What was happening ? Was this some crazy hallucination or dream? Before he could think about anything else he heard a sharp crack! Saphira's egg was cracking open, rushing towards it he picked it up and set it on the bed – his bed he realised, the one that used to be in Palancar valley.

A section of the egg popped off revealing a miniature blue triangular head. Saphira he mentally called the name, without any effect.

Disappointed, he watched as Saphira pulled her body out out of the shell. Watched as she warily sniffed his outstretched hand before butting her snout against it.

Icy pain raced up his arms his mouth clenched up his arm. He heard a faint voice. His vision turned dark around the edges. The voice grew louder. "Eragon "

He focused on the voice" calm your mind, the girl's cannot br undone, but other things can be change, Algaesia doesn't hand out second chances often, use it properly, be careful and good luck"

His eyesight slowly returned as he became aware of another voice in his head, this one distinctly female and very familiar.

'Eragon' the diminutive dragon was flapping her wings frantically.

' what happened, where are we, why am I so small' then with a slight pause ' are you okay?'

Despite his situation he couldn't help but let out a faint smile. ' so glad to see you are concerned Saphira' he teased. And Saphira let out a huff.

'I know we are at Garrow's house which is somehow not destroyed, and you have just hatched. I would say this is a dream but we have never shared dreams, just nightmares. And i believe we could have sensed a spell on us but i cannot say how this happened or what this is.'

'how about we go along with what is happening and if this is real we can try to understand how this happened.' Saphira suggested.

Eragon hesitated ' but if this is real. If we have somehow come into the past maybe we can prevent a few deaths, save a few lives. I don't want to live through Brom or Garrow's death again.'

Saphira sighed 'I suppose,if you must'

He broke out into a grin ' thank you. But since there is a chance this is real and we don't have another theory, we should plan on what we will do this time around.' Saphira agreed and they began to plot.

Surprisingly it only took a few hours and sneaking downstairs to get meat to force feed Saphira. ' there is no point if i can't enjoy the hunt' she huffed.

They couldn't let Garrow die. But his death was a key factor in Roran becoming Stronghammer and he helped a lot in the war. Which meant they had to fake Garrow's death. He could transport him like Arya did to Saphira's egg. He could transport him to Surda.

There was also the matter of his elfish features, as much as he despised it Eragon had to change his bone structure to look human. Thankfully he found a painting of him and Roran in his room to give him an idea of how to shape himself. The real test would be acting in in front of Garrowand Roran like he was still Eragon from before the war.

Eragon absolutely refused to send Saphira to live in the woods during the first week. Yes he knew that she was more than capable of taking care of herself, but seeing her so young and vulnerable looking made him feel very protective towards her.

And Saphira, while she pretended to be irritated by his decision found obvious amusement at this. But she ate the meals he bought her nonetheless

Roran accepted his presence without a change. But he thought Garrow was a little suspicious of his behaviour.

One night he snuck out of the house with Saphira and built her a hut, lining it with cloths to keep her warm during the cold weather.

A few weeks later when Roran went to get his chisel repaired Eragon volunteered to go with him.

Roran and Eragon parted at the outskirts of Carvahall. Eragon walked slowly to Brom's house, engrossed in his thoughts. He stopped at the doorstep and raised his hand to knock.

A voice rasped, "What do you want, boy?"

He whirled around. Behind him Brom leaned on a twisted staff embellished with strange carvings. He wore a brown hooded robe like a friar. A pouch hung from the scuffed leather belt clasped around his waist. Above his white beard, a proud eagle nose hooked over his mouth and dominated his face. He peered at Eragon with deep-set eyes shadowed by a gnarled brow and waited for his reply.

Seeing him standing there alive and breathing was like a punch to the gut. Eragon froze, trying to say something. But it was hard to stand in front who he now knew to be his father.

"To get information," Eragon finally managed to get out. "Roran is getting a chisel fixed and I had free time, so I came to see if you could answer a few questions."

The old man grunted and reached for the door. "You might as well come in; we'll be talking awhile. Your questions never seem to end." Inside, the house was darker than charcoal, an acrid smell heavy in the air. "Now, for a light." Eragon heard the old man move around, then a low curse as something crashed to the floor. "Ah, here we go." A white spark flashed; a flame wavered into existence.

Brom stood with a candle before a stone fireplace. Stacks of books surrounded a high-backed, deeply carved wooden chair that faced the mantel; the four legs were shaped like eagle claws, and the seat and back were padded with leather embossed with a swirling rose pattern. A cluster of lesser chairs held piles of scrolls. Ink pots and pens were scattered across a writing desk. "Make room for yourself, but by the lost kings, be careful. This stuff is valuable."

Eragon stepped over pages of parchment covered in the ancient language.. He gently lifted cracking scrolls off a chair and placed them on the floor. A cloud of dust flew into the air as he sat. He stifled a sneeze.

Brom bent down and lit the fire with his candle. "Good! Nothing like sitting by a fire for conversation ." He threw back his hood to reveal hair that was not white, but silver, then hung a kettle over the flames and settled into the high-backed chair.

"Now, what do you want?" He addressed Eragon roughly, but not unkindly.

"Well," said Eragon, wondering how best to approach the subject, "I lied when I said I needed to ask questions" Brom raised a brow interested.

"uhh" Eragon wondered how exactly was he going to tell his father the truth." I am from the future" he blurted out. 'Tactless little on' Saphira reprimanded

"what?" of all the things Brom expected Eragon to say, time travel was not one.

"I am from the future" Eragon repeated. "boy I don't have time for your games" Brom failed to hide his amusement.

"I am from the future father." Brom started at the didn't want to drop the news on him that he knew, like this but what was done was done.

"you know?" Brom asked in a haunted whisper. Eragon softened a bit "I do and if you let me tell you what I want to tell you, you will understand how I know

Brom seemed to regain a bit of his composure " very well, tell me."