Cold.

It was far too cold to be outside. The temperature was below freezing. The wind whistled, almost like a dog howling to the plump, slivery moon in the star-filled night. But with the wind, the cold grew stronger than one would guess. And traveling far above the colourless clouds, amongst the lightest of blue sky, was a Sapphire coloured creature.

To say the creature was beautiful would be an understatement. The creature was as glorious as the clear ocean beneath her, but she was as ferocious as the wind that kept batting her back, like a hand swatting away a fly. Her scales would shine brightly in the sun and you would think she was made of diamonds, if only the sun was not covered by the many clouds. Her black razor sharp claws looked so deadly that even a tiger would have to run away with its bushy tail between its legs. Her wings were tucked beside her thighs and her round sapphire eyes that held not only knowledge, pride or love, but also a deep sorrow, looked ahead at the mountain that was sure to be her obstacle. This creature was a Dragon.

And on the leather saddle strapped to her back was a man with dark brown hair and an angled face, slanted brown eyes and tapered ears like an elf, however he still looked human, with a stronger looking jaw, his brow thicker and his face broader than when he was but only a farm boy. And his skin was as pale as moonlight like the elves. He wore a beige cloak that was decorated with designs only the delicate hands of an elf could make. Swirling patterns that, when closer inspected, look like tree vines rising from the hem and going up towards the hood. This man is a Dragon Rider.

"Are you alright Saphira? Maybe this wasn't such a good idea" Thought the man, concern in his voice.

"You know better than to question me Eragon" snorted Saphira and she let out a puff of smoke from her snout.

Eragon felt himself grin, his eyes watering as the cloud of smoke drifted up to his eyes. He released his right clammy hand from the spike in front of him and rubbed his eyes gently while his left hand held the spike firmly. As soon as the smoke cleared, Eragon put his hand back on to the spike and yawned.

They had been flying from Vroenguard to the now abandoned city Orthíad in the Beor Mountains for three days, only resting twice, once in Gil'ead and the last on the outskirts of the Hadarac Desert. They wouldn't have stopped if Eragon didn't insist that Saphira should at least get some sort of rest even though he knew that the Hadarac desert was the least of his favourites to journey to.

While Eragon and Saphira were at Gil'ead, they met old friends from the Varden who had more or less retired peacefully to different parts of Alagaësia since the end of that battle. On the day that everything changed like sun to night. The day that Eragon no longer was called Shadeslayer (though few still called him that), but now, known everywhere across Alagaësia as Kingkiller.

At first Eragon didn't mind the name. He knew that he had earned it through all the hardship and the suffering that he faced. That he rightfully deserved it, for what he did was needed in order to right the world. That it wasn't wrong that he, Saphira, Arya, Elva, Murtagh and Thorn and not to mention the help of the Eldunarí of his own, that helped put an end to the warped Galbatorix, king of Alagaësia. The same Galbatorix that had been the leader of the Forsworn and was the very cause of the downfall of the Riders. The very man that had caused so much pain and misery across the lands. The man that had lost his dragon, his very soul mate, had gone mad and decided to extract revenge on his other brethren because they denied giving him another dragon. The man that, once he had slain a dragon and their rider, would do an inexcusable act and take a dragon's Eldunarí and use dark magic to bend the poor dragon's already unstable mind for his own personal use. And it was because of Eragon that instead of a king, a queen by the name of Nasuada, leader of the Varden, and personal friend, was now on the throne and was righting the wrongs of the king. Peace was finally amongst the whole of Alagaësia, though ever slowly.

And yet, Eragon was not comfortable with his new title. Something about it did not sit right with him and whenever someone would use it, a feeling like ice found on the peaks of the Beor Mountains, were trickling ever slowly under his clothes and sliding down his already sensitive back. When he had shared his thoughts and feelings about what it made him feel to Saphira, she had snorted and said Why feel like that? You have done a good deed little one. Embrace the man-title given to you.

Eragon sighed and started stroking Saphira's right thigh tenderly, gazing at her sapphire coloured scales and the pattern that seemed to go on within them. There was a reason why they were going to Orthíad, but none of them good. Eragon had received a letter from Arya detailing something that had slipped his mind, but had been worrying her since she had returned back to Ellesméra after their . . .

Eragon felt his mouth go dry, like if he was back in the Hadarac Desert, only without water and the sun was beating down on his sweat-ridden face, while his mind started to play tricks on him. Dangerous tricks. His heart seemed to tug out of its resting place and ache as if it had been bruised by dozens of Urgals. He took a deep breath and swallowed.

She had returned back to Ellesméra after their goodbye. But they had been keeping in contact ever since that . . . that day. The letters were a comfort to Eragon. To imagine that Arya, no matter how busy she was, that after a long day and she started to wind down, she would sit down on her wooden chair, her posture relaxed and pick up her quill with her soft fingers and dip it carefully into the dark pools of ink and write to him.

Eragon lingered on that mental image for a long time before he realised that Saphira was snarling at him.

"Saphira? What's wrong?"

"Oh good, you can hear me. Do not dwell on Arya, for it is because of her that we have to travel in the first place. Be prepared Eragon. What we face is the unknown." said Saphira and she growled lightly as she said unknown. She spread her wings against the howling wind and rose higher up into the sky. The wind kept trying to push her down but no matter how hard it tried Saphira always rose above it. Eragon shifted in the leather saddle, his cheeks flushing a scarlet colour.

Saphira was right, as she always was. It was because of Arya that they dared to travel to Orthíad. Eragon shifted in the leather saddle again and reached inside his cream coloured pants pocket to bring out a leaf green coloured letter. The letter smelt of fresh pine that reminded Eragon of Ellesméra, as all the letters from Arya did. It was almost like the smell was taunting him for not traveling to Du Weldenvarden to be with her, to finally see her after so long.

Eragon's fingers traced Arya's handwriting and his lips parted as he started to re-read the letter in his mind.

Kvetha, Eragon and Saphira Bjartskular

How are you both? I hope you are doing well. Me and Fírnen are fine, as usual. How are those that I do not wish to mention? Are they recovering? You must be very busy seeing to them. But I must interrupt your duties Eragon, for there is something that I must discuss with you. It has been troubling me since the dauth of Galbatorix. It worries me so, that I barley stay focus on my duties as a queen, so instead of hiding it from you longer, I wish to share it with you. During our . . . 'meeting' with Galbatorix, he knew of our destruction of the Ra'zac hatchlings in Dras-Leona but he did not seem bothered. In fact, if you remember, he even said that those in Dras-Leona were not the only Ra'zac eggs. I know that we should not trust the tongue of a Wyrdfell, especially the one that caused the fall of the riders. However, I fear he had no reason to lie to us. There have also been rumours about strange noises coming from the abandon dwarf city of Orthíad in the Beor Mountains. Although it is not my business as queen of Ellesméra, It worries me as a Shur'tugal. I wish for you to check Orthíad to make sure that these rumours are just that: Rumours. Its times like these that I wish I could join you and Saphira. It's been so long since me and Fírnen have ventured away from Ellesméra and although I would like to investigate this with you, my people need me right now. I am sorry Eragon, perhaps if things become easy for me, I'll surprise you and visit, though I doubt that will happen. This letter grows ever longer so I shall stop. There is so much I would like to tell you Eragon but for now, I will end it.

Atra esterní ono thelduin, Eragon Shur'tugal un Saphira Bjartskular

-Arya

Eragon bit the inside of his cheek lightly enough to not draw blood. He stared at the letter with unfocused eyes for a moment before putting it back inside his pocket. Eragon drew a deep breath, exhaled slowly and looked up. They were slowly rising higher than the peaks of the mountains and the air was becoming thinner. The mountains looked menacing without the sun to light them up. They seemed to loom over them like a dragon over its cornered prey. It seemed to scream "I HAVE YOU NOW" and Eragon tensed, and he felt for his sword, Brisingr, which rested casually against his left hip. He sighed to himself. Since when had he been so jumpy?

How do you think Arya heard of this rumour? Eragon asked Saphira. They had talked about this since they read the letter and they each thought they knew who would have told her.

As I have said before, I believe Nasuada would have told her. It seems to be the more reasonable, for she is the queen of Alagaësia and she must know all that goes on around her. Said Saphira.

But why not ask us to check it out herself? She could have done the same as Arya and sent us a letter.

But we are harder to get in touch. All she has to do is send a letter to Vanir and he will use whatever means it is the elves use to send it to Arya.

Eragon stayed quiet. He felt Saphira retreat from his mind as gracefully as she could and a sudden coldness was left in her wake. Eragon thought on whom else could have told Arya. He thought of Orik, for he was the closest to Orthíad and he would know what was going on. But then how would Orik get in contact with Arya? From what Eragon knew, Orik and Arya were friends but they weren't very close. Then Eragon's mind seem to clear, like a mysterious fog had enveloped it and tried to smother it but at the last second thought twice and went away, waiting for another time. Eragon's mind reached towards Saphira, slowly at first, so that she wouldn't recoil from his. When she noticed it was him, she embraced it and Eragon felt sudden warmth spread all over his body.

I have an idea on how Arya knew about this rumour said Eragon and he couldn't help but feel a little smug.

Oh? Said Saphira quietly, waiting for him to explain.

Orik must have heard the rumour from one of the clans and he used a scrying mirror to contact Nasuada. Once he explained it to her, she wrote a letter and gave it to Vanir to give to Arya to see what she could do.

So then what you're saying is that I was right Said Saphira and she made a throaty sound that might have been a chuckled.

Eragon raised his right eyebrow and his lips parted, suddenly lost for words. How so? He finally asked.

Because if it was not for Nasuada, Arya would not know snorted Saphira and her tongue darted out of her mouth as quickly as a bullfrogs.

Hmph.

The right corner of Eragon's mouth twitched into a smile and he removed his right hand from the spike that was In front of him and he let his fingers dance along Saphira's thigh again. He heard her hum in response and he laughed silently.

Eragon slid off Saphira's back and landed with a crunch. He raised his arms in the air and stretched. He put his hands on his lower back and bent backwards. When he heard a feint click, he stopped and looked at Saphira. She was crouched, her majestic head bowed low to the ground with her eyes focused on him. Eragon saw her chest heave up and down, her tongue darting out to taste the air. Eragon walked towards her, his right hand outstretched. She moved closer to him and nuzzled his hand with her very cold and partially wet snout. Saphira hummed and Eragon could feel her whole body resonate.

Reluctantly, Eragon dropped his hand from Saphira's snout and turned around to look at his surroundings and in an instant Eragon gaped. He knew that Orthíad was a major city for the dwarfs before they had to move to Tronjheim and that during the battle of Tronjheim the Urgals and Kull under Durza's spell had set up base there. He had always imagined it being a wasteland like the Hadarac Desert. That Urgals and Kulls had trampled over their make shift tents, blood stained grounds from those that had perished to an Urgals horns and that the scent of them still lingered in the air.

But instead, the air was fresh and had a scent of golden wattles. The ground wasn't littered with blood stains, but rather pure white snow with patches of grass showing now and then. And sprawled on the snow were gems upon gems, from gold coins to emeralds as big as Eragon's fist. Eragon surveyed the ground once more before he decided that gaping wasn't going to get him anywhere. Reluctantly, his gaze wondered from the gem embedded snow to the splintered double wooden doors. They reminded Eragon of the doors of Tronjheim but at least two inches smaller. Eragon rested his hand against Brisingr's pommel and started to walk.

How do you think the gems came to be here? He asked Saphira, who was trudging along behind him.

We have never been here so I cannot say. Maybe they are cursed? But then why are they not covered by the-cold-white-ice replied Saphira and Eragon couldn't help but nod.

Eragon closed his eyes, his demeanour calm. He breathed in through his nostrils, gathering as much air as he could into his lungs, and breathed out through his mouth, the air coming out like the hissing of a viperidae. He reached out to his surroundings with his mind and searched for any immediate danger. Eragon almost lost his focus, which made him trip over himself.

There are people here. I guess that explains the noise. These minds seem familiar said Eragon and he heard Saphira snarl.

We must be careful, watch your path Eragon and do not stray away from me. As I have said before, Things tend to go array when you aren't by my side.

I know but these minds . . . they feel familiar.

Eragon trudged on, all the while keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of movement in the open space. He felt Saphira's hot breath prickle his neck and his shoulders tensed.

Eragon stopped in front the large wooden doors and gripped Brisingr even tighter, his knuckles turning white. He put his free hand on the left side of the door and pushed gently. The door creaked and groaned as it opened, like an old man who's hip had been playing him up since he turned seventy. It seemed to tremble from the force of Eragon's push, even though he had pushed it lightly.

Eragon stood there, frozen in place as he decided whether he should go through the door.

Its been so long Saphira. Years have gone by and I haven't really fought another human being for a while. What if my skills have dulled?

Saphira nudged Eragon forward with her snout and he turned to face her, his eyes searching hers.

We have not been sitting idly watching the world go by Eragon. We've trained for those years that have gone by and our power has increased since, even without the Eldunarí. Believe in yourself as I believe in you, little one.

Eragon cocked his head to the side, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth turned into a feint line. Since when were you so wise?

I have always been wise. You should listen to me more.

Eragon smiled, his brown eyes looking up at the partner that had changed his life for the better.

You have to stay here and let me go in alone. I know it's not what either of us wants but I can't risk you getting hurt.

Saphira growled, her claws scraping the snow in lines. Her eyes focused on Eragon's and he could feel her emotions slowly turn darker. But then she surprised him by making an hhhhumph sound and her mood changed to that of understanding.

As you wish. As I said, we are now stronger than when we were but hatchlings. I'm more . . . Mature so I will wait. But if anything goes wrong I will not allow this again Eragon. No matter how much you beg, I will always stay with you.

I understand. Thank you said Eragon and he rested his head against Saphira's snout. He heard Saphira hum slowly and he tore himself away from her.

With one final deep breath, Eragon put his worries to the back of his mind and went through the door.

And everything went black.

The silvery Gedwëy ignasia on the palm of Eragon's hand glowed faintly. It pulsed like the beating of a dragon's wings. It seemed to shimmer as if dancing on a rippled ocean. Its glow brightened, almost like it was drawing strength and getting stronger. And with a sudden movement that could have been mistaken for a twitch, Eragon's hand move and a high pitched frequency noise that only one rider could hear sounded all over the whole of Alagaësia. And within the high pitched noise, a message could be heard.

Help, Arya dröttningu,

Eragon, Son of Brom, needs you.