Eragon sat up in bed. His whole body covered in sweat. He felt his hands shaking as he forced himself to get up and walk towards Saphira. He sat and watched the slow rise and fall of her enormous belly. His waking dreams had been especially vivid tonight. Memories from the time of Galbatorix still raced through his mind like they had just happened. The expressions on the faces of the men in battle, knowing that they were about to be killed. His family was long gone now, for he was 319, and all those who were part of his human life were now dead.

He remembered Roran, his family line still living in New-Carvahall. He thought of Horst and Elain and Gertrude, and all those of Carvahall. The elves and dwarves had assigned their most skilled craftsmen to rebuild the city, but it still wasn't as good as the town he remembered.

He recalled Brom, the man who was his father. Eragon's mind flashed to the old man's tomb in the Hadarac Desert, surrounded by golden lillies.

He smiled as he thought of Orik, and Nasuada, and Oromis, and Glaedr, his teachers and friends that he would never see again.

At last, he thought of Arya. Her long, raven hair. Her soft, smooth skin. And her laugh that made him forget all of the troubles of the world. He wished she could be there, but he knew otherwise. Arya was to be queen of the elves until she either died or gave up the throne and in doing so, her yawë, which he knew she would never relenquish.

As the sun rose over the horizon Saphira arched her neck and stretched,

"Good morning, little one," Saphira chided.

"Good morning" Eragon said. He was still lost in thought as she brushed against his conciousness. He was glad that he had her.

"I love you, little one."

"And I you."

Eragon walked out onto the balcony of his dwelling. To think that he had started building this place 250 years ago was hard for even him to believe. The tree that he had sung his house out of was 260 feet tall, not to mention that it was suspended another league into the air because of how it grew out of the rock face inside Mt. Shur'Tugal. Saphira had picked this tree because of its height. She had stated that as the mother of her race, she would look down to no-one. And it was so.

Things just seemed to change as soon as they arrived at Mt. Shur'Tugal. The sun glowed brighter, the grass grew greener, and the mountain seemed to hum with new reverance at their arrival. The mountain itself was as large as the Beors and contained a hollow chamber on the inside. It reminded Eragon of Farthen Dur. The rock that lined it was smooth and black like polished glass. There were trees that jutted out of the rock all around the chamber and a dense forest lay at the bottom. The Eldunari had identified it as an object known as a volcano that is long since dead. They told Eragon that when it was alive, it produced more fire than any dragon in existence and created the rock they were surrounded by known as obsidian.

The valley below was filled with dragons of every size and hue. A portion of the forest had been replaced with a patch of charcoal that served as a dragon's quarters, though every dwelling was equipped with a place for the rider's dragon.

The vertical walls of the chamber were dotted with caves that Dwarven riders had chiseled during their training. The walls were adorned with jewels and precious minerals. Larger caves had formed near the bottom, put there by Urgal riders. These caves had more murals lining the walls than anything else. The Elves stuck to their traditional way of making homes by singing them out of trees that latched themselves to the walls of the volcano. However, they never could get as high as Eragon's tree. The humans could not sing houses out of trees, or chisel perfect caves out of solid rock. So they built houses out of the stone that the dwarves mined and mortar that they mixed themselves.

Eragon was proud of his new home and he was glad that he could share it with so many people. He quite enjoyed the time when winter was approaching, all the leaves on the trees on the inside of the volcano would change colors from traditional green, to red, brown, yellow, and, orange. It was a sight to behold. When winter arrived, each leaf would drop, one by one, onto the cavern floor below. The vortex of spinning leaves seemed to act of its own accord, and danced all throughout the cavern.

Saphira nuzzled him on his shoulder, "The new students arrived last night, it would be shameful to be tardy to their first lesson mhmm?"

"I suppose you're right" Eragon said as he pulled a tunic over his head, "And I would hope to avoid such a situation."

As Saphira flew towards the scheduled meeting place of the new riders and their dragons near the lake that covered a decent area of the chasm's floor, he couldn't help but notice that 2 of the dragons waiting by the lake seemed awfully large for new riders. As he dismounted he looked at his 4 new recruits, and that is when he paused. Standing before him were not only an Urgralgran, and a Dwarven rider, but Murtagh grinning ear-to-ear, and Arya.