Chapter 1

All that Eragon could see was a red cloud that made impossible to his eyes to look towards the Varden camp that he was struggling to reach. He had passed the entire day helping the Du Vrang Gata healing the injured on the battlefield but the ungrateful task was even worse than his thoughts due to the burst of heat of summer.

He wanted to wash the grime and sweat from his body, before joining the people from Carvahall that were going to celebrate their victory that night.

Are you going hunting?, asked Eragon looking towards the sky. His dragon, Saphira, was flying just a few metres over him, apparently not bothered by the lack of visibility.

Yes, I'm starving since last battle, but I'm going to come back before the feast starts.

All for the mead, uh, Saphira?, he teased her, amused.

In fact, the passion of the dragoness for the dwarven alcoholic drink was well known among the Varden.

You should learn to behave, little one, if you don't want to look like a roasted chicken.

Eragon chuckled, amused, but instead of answering, he jumped as high as to touch her belly and then started running, using his elven perceptions to avoid barriers.

He reached his tent, just to go out again and head to a stream which flowed not far from his tent. After bathing, he went back and wore a crimson tunic over black leggings and black boots.

He was going to leave when a knock interrupted the train of his thoughts and the smiling face of his cousin appeared at the entrance of his tent.

"Roran!", he said, heading towards him to hug him briefly. "Why are you here? I thought you were going to the feast with Katrina."

Not bothering himself with an answer, Roran pushed back his questions, just asking: "Are you going to be late? All ladies are waiting for the famous rider if he deems worthy to be there."

"Stop teasing, you idiot, I'm coming" and the two of them went out to walk together towards a white pavilion built by their fellow citizens.

"They always go the whole hog, right?", said Eragon, smiling.

"Always", was the amused answer of Roran.

Eragon opened the canvas door of the pavilion to enter and he was almost shocked at the presence of so many people inside. They were not only people from Carvahall but also Varden soldiers that wanted to forget the horrors of the war, even if only for the night.

Nevertheless, his surprise was nothing compared to the shock of his fellow citizens which fell silent at his sight, in a sort of ecstasy of awe due to his presence and his elven features.

Luckily the silence was broken by Horst who made his way towards them with two tankards of mead in his big hands. "Eragon! Roran! You made it finally! We were just waiting for you to start the celebrations!". Then he handed over the tankards to them and asked "There's no one who can play some music here? Let's feast tonight and forget our worries!". Eragon and Roran were joined by Katrina and Horst's sons, Albriech and Baldor.

Soon after they were all chatting and singing and Eragon felt himself relaxing a bit, taking part of the conversations and drinking with his friends. He was listening to a tale narrated by Baldor when he felt the soothing presence of Saphira.

Are you enjoying yourself, little one?

Aye, it went better than how I had imagined it. It's good to feel home again. Did the hunt go well?

You should not even ask, was her smug answer.

He then heard her land a little further away from the pavilion and he went out smiling to greet his magnificent dragoness.

You look incredibly terrifying, O mighty dragon, he told her, caressing her snout. He felt warm waves of affection coming from her and he laughed, feeling his mind lighter.

You hypocrite, you teased me and then you emptied probably a barrel of mead all alone. Fortune smile to you, there is not a certain elf around to see you in your actual state of mind, she said jokingly.

I'm not that drunk, Saphira, but thanks for your trust, he said, flushed by her sarcastic comment and the mead.

Actually, she's right. I would be too ashamed to look at Arya in the eyes again if she saw me now, he thought.

Suddenly he heard light footsteps from behind him and his name called by a musical voice.

Oh no, I cannot be so unlucky, he groaned inside.

But it wasn't Arya. He turned to stop, confused, at the sight of the young woman who called him. She was probably little less than twenty years old, just two inches shorter than him. She had long brown hair and two beautiful, stunning blue eyes. Eragon blinked. She had something familiar but he couldn't remember where he could have seen her. Then, as he smelled the scent of wild flowers, a flash of images hit his mind. He could see himself at 7, running after a girl in the fields near Garrow's farm.

"Charlotte… ?", he said, almost stuttering.

The young woman smiled, walking towards him and stopping only a metre from Eragon.

"You got it, finally."

Still astonished, Eragon reached her and laughing, he hugged her. She felt her stiffen, surprised, and then relax in his arms. He blushed lightly.

Maybe I really had too much drinks, he thought, as he pulled away, a little embarrassed about his sudden openness, to look better at her.

"Charlotte! What are you doing here? I thought you moved to Therinsford definitely years ago. Where's your father? And your…"

He fell silent suddenly when the girl stopped smiling and her eyes showed him a terrible grief.

"I… I'm sorry, Charlie. I couldn't imagine. I never heard anything from you ever since you left five years ago. It's unbelieving to see you again and, above all, here, with the Varden."

She made one step back but smiled again, even if it didn't reach her eyes.

"It's all right, Eragon. It's been a long time now that she's… she's no more with us. I'm better now and father… well, my father is getting better too. It's thanks to Roran that we are with Carvahall's people again. When we heard what the Ra'zac did, what Roran had proposed… I decided that we could not stay there anymore, waiting and surviving in the Empire but not living a real life. So I made my decisions for the both of us. And that helped father to move on and we're happier now here." She fell silent again, looking at him and faltering a bit.

Bu at that moment Saphira startled them making a puff of smoke, clearly not happy of being totally ignored nor by strangers neither by her rider.

I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?, she snorted, projecting her thoughts in their minds.

That made Eragon blush but Charlotte made her way towards the dragon bravely, betraying her fear just for a fraction of a moment. She spoke directly to Saphira.

"Forgive me, O beautiful dragon, I'm at fault for not having payed my respects to you immediately. My name is Charlotte Lanasdaughter. It's a great pleasure and honour to meet you", she said, bowing her head to the dragoness. The emotion was obvious for the young woman and Saphira hummed, pleased with her answer.

Eragon looked at his dragoness, amused by her everlasting vanity.

"Saphira, this is my oldest friend from Carvahall, except for Roran. Her family lived near our farm but they moved to Therinsford when I was around thirteen."

The dragoness looked at her, with a gleam of interest now and bent her neck to smell her. The woman didn't moved but waited for her answer, a bit tense.

I'm always glad to meet Eragon's friends, above all if you're almost his nest mate. You're very good at words, young one, she said finally.

Satisfied, Eragon turned to Charlotte again, inviting her to take a walk with them in order to hear more about her life and hoping also to clear his mind from the intoxication of alcohol.

They talked for hours, until Saphira gently reminded him that he had a meeting to attend early in the morning at Nasuada's pavilion.

He accompanied her to her tent and he had just started to head back to his own with Saphira when she called him again. He turned, perplexed. She seemed to be uncertain to speak for a moment, as she gazed directly in his eyes. He felt almost exposed, as if she was trying to question his soul with her silent examination. Then she smiled.

"It's really good to see you again, Eragon. You have changed in your appearance and at first I just couldn't believe that the new dragon rider of the Varden was the reckless boy that I played hide and seek with. But I can see that you're the same good boy I remember so dearly from my childhood. Goodnight, Eragon."

Then she disappeared in her tent, leaving him alone, relieved as if a great weight was leaving his heart. Then he jumped on the back of the dragoness, letting himself cradle by the warm wind of the night.

It seems that I must congratulate with you for the wise choice of your friendships for once, little one, the dragoness jokingly told him, breaking the silence. She was landing behind his tent, letting him climb down gently from her back.

For once? Always too generous with your compliments, Saphira. But I must say that you're right. She was a good friend of mine and for what I have seen tonight she still is.

He kissed her snout and entered his tent, removing his tunic and boots. Then he lay down on his cot, sighing at the thought of the early wake up he was going to deal with.

It's good to see that you have people that you can count on, beyond me, Roran and Arya. That girl is right. You're really reckless.

He snorted but could not retort, too tired to. Instead, blinking, he said, Maybe. Goodnight, Saphira, before slipping in his waking dreams.

Goodnight, little one, she said affectionately.