A/N: this is an alternate universe where Eragon and Arya get married, but Eragon goes somewhere and never comes back. This story is about their daughter. She is the narrator.
Du Weldenvarden is beautiful at night. I can hear all of the different nocturnal animals, yet it is still quiet. The moon-lilies glow and the stars are bright. It is always peaceful here, sitting in the branches of the Menoa tree. Peace is hard to come by these days, so when I disappear, I leave for at least an hour. Nobody ever notices, not even my own mother, Arya Drottning, queen of Ellesmera. I slowly become sad as I think of my father, Eragon, who left on business shortly after I was born. Three weeks later, Saphira came crashing through the trees without him on her back. Saphira is the closest thing I have to a friend, yet even she is distant, still not quite over the fact that her Rider is gone. I must stop thinking about these things, the things that brought me to seek solace in the darkness of the forest.
I open my mind to the forest around me. The owl has found its prey to take home to her younglings. The ants are asleep, and the Menoa tree is watching. Protecting the forest, observing the creatures, guarding over me. Doing her job. I look around, and on the moss below the tree, I see a branch. When I visit, I like to leave little gifts behind to thank her. Today, I'll sing this stick into a wooden flute. I sing a quick scale to warm up my voice, and then I begin to sing. For song magic to work, it does not matter what song you use, but the feeling you put into it. I often use a lullaby my mother taught me when I was young:
Bye, bye, and hushabye, can you see the swans fly? Now half asleep in bed I lie, awake with half an eye. Hey ho and welladay, over the hills and far away. That's where the little children stray to find the lambs at play.
I finish the haunting melody, and gently set the flute down. The sun is just starting to rise as I slip back to my room in the palace, to face the day ahead.