Secret of Doru Araeba

Secret of Doru Araeba

Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon.

Chapter 1: Remembering the Past

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Author Note: This will be an Eragon X Saphira fan fiction. Please Review.

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Eragon sat atop a cliff overlooking where Carvahall once stood, only the charred remnants were left. Even that was hard to see because most of it was overgrown with vegetation and the outer edges were nearly reclaimed by the forest. Eragon sighed as thoughts of his childhood rushed to him as his gaze caught where his home used to be. The eventful day that had brought Saphira into his life and changed it forever.

A gentle breeze swept over the valley carrying along with it a whisper that winter was near. The air lay heavy with the scents of the surrounding forests and of days gone by. A low rumble echoing from the northern part of the valley told of the waterfall and of its undeterred surge even under winter's icy claws.

He recollected about the events of the last two months, the fall of Galbatorix. The battle was long, lasting several days. Thousands died. The combined forces of Surda, Varden, Dwarf, Urgals and Elves (though the hour was late when they entered the bloodshed). Even then, the combined force was only just enough to combat the city where Galbatorix had gathered his full strength in order to march on the elves home. Eragon however only entered the battle once Murtagh had showed himself in a ruthless display of power that killed dozens of the magic weavers and even more soldiers.

Their battle was short however. Murtagh was forced to the sidelines by Galbatorix himself. While Shruikan fought Saphira, eventually pinning her to the ground by his sheer size, Galbatorix and Eragon locked blades. The battle went ill as Eragon's strength began to wane and all hope seemed to disappear. Galbatorix prepared to deliver the final blow when it was stopped but the most unlikely of person, Oromis. He had arrived with the elf queen on the back of his golden dragon, Glaedr.

Oromis was able to hold his own against Galbatorix, but he could not contend with the magic Galbatorix used against him. Oromis soon lay dying next to his beloved dragon which had taken the brunt of the magic and was in as bad condition as his rider. As Galbatorix returned to Eragon to deliver the final strike, something happened that no one expected, he was slain, not by Man, nor Elf, nor Dwarf or Urgal but a dragon, his dragon, Shruikan. The dragon had found his chance to break free of Galbatorix's hold on him and exacted his revenge for the death of his original rider and the torment he had suffered at his hands over his entire life time.

Before he drew his final breath, Galbatorix forced upon Shruikan one last task, to protect the final egg and hide it away from the world. Shruikan took to the skies and disappeared into the city, only to reappear with the last egg clutched in his maw. The elves, who had tried to find him, disappeared or were found dead. Those who tried to view him through means of magic became ill and went mad, eventually having to be killed if they did not take their own lives first.

Eragon looked down at the fields. The soldiers who were left to destroy the town hadn't had the senses to salt the fields. The area was recoverable. A grim smile formed slowly, the place of his birth, his home, could all be rebuilt. His friends and family could all come back if they so wish and rebuild the town. Perhaps he could now settle down to a quiet life beneath the mountain's shadow.

A small flutter caught his attention. Eragon looked at the bag that he carried with him everywhere he went. It was given to him by Oromis just before he departed. His last words to him were "On a full moon near the beginning of winters chill, hold this parchment to the sky and the power of the riders shall be revealed." Eragon of course looked at it many times before and even tried magic to see what it was but the scroll remained blank. Tonight however hopefully would be different, it was close to winter and the moon was to be full though dark clouds hung in the sky threatening to stop any chance of knowing what the parchment says.

Eragon remembered back to the celebration after Galbatorix's death. It lasted a whole week. All over Alagaësia, whole towns, cities, and villages cheered for the triumph over the evil king. By its end, he felt miserable however. The celebration brought a new leadership to the kingdom, but as with every change, there were those who refused to accept it. Several assassination attempts on the lives of those who where in power nearly succeeded and the peace that was supposed to be, was ended as quickly as it started.

Eragon and Saphira were forced into service to find the culprits but soon found it to be more trouble than simply an angered citizen. A group of Galbatorix's most devout servants had refused to accept his death as the end to his rule and begun a series of strikes against the new kingdom in an attempt to bring back his iron rule saying, "He would be reborn from the ashes and retake the kingdom on the wings of a mighty dragon."

A smile formed on Eragon's face as the evens that followed began to play through his mind. Saphira had had enough of the fighting and the risk to his life. She picked him up during a late night while he slept and flew into the heart of the Hadarac Desert to a cave that they had stumbled upon during a reconnaissance of a small army moving through the desert a year earlier.

Ever since the death of Glaedr, she had been distant. She became quiet and only spoke if someone spoke to her and even then it was nothing more than a few quiet words. She had lost all hope of furthering the dragon race with no other males that she could or even would choose to become her mate, Murtagh and Thorn were exiled to Parlim, the green egg was gone and Shruikan was out of the question.

Eragon let out a sigh. He stayed with Saphira in the solitude of the desert for several weeks before they were found. During that time, he became even closer to her. Things she would not tell him before, she spoke of and her mind became like an open book to him, save one area she guarded with a fierceness to rival any battle. He asked her many times about what she was hiding but she only ignored him until he gave up or manipulated her answer so it filled Eragon with more questions without answers.

After their return, he found out that most of the people that had left Carvahall longed to go home. Though Surda was welcoming to them, they still did not want to stay. It just didn't feel right to them. Eragon sighed, that was what had brought him to where he now sat. He had spoke with Arya a few days earlier and told her what condition the land was and that if the people wanted to return, they could do so with the chance to rebuild.

A tear formed in the corner of Eragon's eye and slowly made its long decent to his chin before falling to the ground. What was he upset about? Then it struck him; it was not his sadness that he fell but Saphira's. Eragon placed his marked palm over a moistened area and pulled out the water from it. He formed water into the shape of a ball, about the size of an apple and then spoke a few words in the Ancient Language. A black aura filled the sphere and then it cleared to show Saphira resting next to the tattered remnants of her first home in the woods.

Eragon continued to watch as Saphira lightly touched her snout to the rubble and closed her eyes. He couldn't help but wonder what was going through her mind but he knew she would not like it if he tried to find out. She suddenly leapt towards the sky and broke through the forest canopy in a great hurry it seemed. The breaking in the forest before him caused his attention to turn to Saphira's elegant form heading towards him with great speed. He lost control of the magic binding the water and it splashed over his lap with an icy sting. Eragon gasped for air as the tingling sensation remained.

A heavy beat of wings caused Eragon to look up. Saphira was landing in the large space in front of him. The feeling of sadness had left her and was replaced by overwhelming joy. Eragon could not help but smile as she landed and touched her snout to his forehead.

Eragon…