Chapter One

Murtagh was lonely. He and Thorn had been hiding out up north for close to three years now. He no longer felt quite so disgusted with himself, but he couldn't face going back to the Empire, or anywhere in Alagaësia. He would never be accepted, he would always be feared. And he knew that if he saw the faces of all the families whose sons had died, whose lives were irretrievably changed, all his guilt would smack him in the face again. Thorn had been going over everything they'd done in the war with him, pestering him constantly for the first year, making him accept that it wasn't all his fault. And Murtagh knew that he could, sort of, accept that now. At least, Thorn was no longer shouting speeches about acceptance, and the dangers of self-loathing into his head, so he presumed he was closer to a healthy mental state. So, Murtagh knew he was lonely, but wasn't sure of what to do about it.

"Youngling," Thorn forced himself into Murtagh's head. He'd been trying to keep him out as he sulked, but apparently it hadn't worked, "go to Eragon. He will be able to help you."

Murtagh shook his head emphatically, adding a mental refusal as well. He'd never be able to confront Eragon, not after what he'd done to him. He had just been going over the fact that he couldn't face total strangers whom the war might have affected, how could he face Eragon, who was his brother, whom he'd tried to kill on multiple occasions?

"You know that is why you must go to him. He is a good person. Because of that, he has already forgiven you. To see someone who has forgiven us will help you, I'm sure."

"I don't care!" Murtagh shouted aloud. Thorn crawled over to his side, and Murtagh flung himself into the cavity on Thorn's shoulder, unconsciously taking the spot he'd seen Eragon sit on Saphira countless times, in the moments when he'd scryed him. From those moments, he knew Eragon had forgiven him, he'd overheard Eragon discussing himself with Saphira and the older dragon's Eldunari countless times in the first year. He'd been a popular topic of debate for a while, but eventually, they'd forgiven him. Problem was, Murtagh didn't think they should have.

"Don't think like that! They have forgiven you, get over it, you stinky human!" Thorn shouted at him, nearly bursting his eardrums with the volume of the roar that accompanied his thoughts. "We need a change of scenery," Thorn continued more moderately, "you know we can't stay here forever, the way you've been thinking, I'd have to start over again with my lectures." Murtagh shuddered briefly. You never want a dragon lecturing you. It involves lots of teeth showing, vivid mental pictures of what the dragon will do to you if you don't comply with whatever they're saying, and, to top it all, a thousand pound weight on your chest, with claws ready and willing to impale you if you even try to get away. That had continued for the first several months, until Thorn judged that Murtagh had improved enough to pay attention without external motivators. Thorn continued gently, "We need a new start, Murtagh, and Eragon is the only one I trust to get us there."

Murtagh considered carefully. While he was comfortable enough where he was, Murtagh knew, that to be truly content, he needed to leave Alagaësia all together, start afresh, and be who he'd always wanted to be. Have a family. Thorn was a good start, but ever since he was a young boy, and knew what it meant, Murtagh had always wanted family. To love and be loved. Thorn was more like an extension of himself than a brother. He wanted to be the best he could possibly be. Help people. If he needed to confront Eragon, the family he should have had, to get that, then so be it. Their relationship was too messed up to be what he really wanted. It might have been all his fault that it got that way, but the point stood, they could never have that strong familial bond that Murtagh wanted so badly. He sighed, his mind made up. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go."

Harry was tremendously confused. His Mama and Dada weren't coming, and he was calling for them. That never happened, even when Unc'e Si was here, and Mama and Dada weren't, if he cried, Unc'e Si would go and get them. But after Mama had taken him upstairs, way too early for bedtime, and the man that wasn't Dada made more lights, like Dada and Mama made, Mama had gone to hide. And then the other man, who wasn't Dada or Unc'e Si or Unc'e 'emy, or Unc'e 'e'er, made the pretty light shine in his eyes, and when Harry could see again, he was gone too. So he was confused, tonight wasn't like any other night, and he was thirsty, and tired, and his head hurt, and none of that would go away without Mama or Dada to do something!

Thorn was flying slowly over the Hadarac Desert. Murtagh was asleep, strapped into the saddle on his back. Thorn didn't understand how he could be asleep. The desert was so warm, and beautiful; practically a massage on his body, heating his muscles and loosening him up. He hadn't noticed before, but the cold of the north, and the fragile mental state of his rider, had made him tense. He did a lazy roll, awakening Murtagh. Thorn's rider woke up upside-down, barely making his eyebrow twitch. Thorn knew that Murtagh wasn't upset about being awakened, but Thorn felt a twinge of guilt anyway. His rider had been having such good dreams this time, about his time with Eragon, when they were looking for the Varden. Before he had done the things he was so ashamed of. Upon waking, all of Thorn's rider's negative emotions rolled back in. Thorn didn't truly understand all of them, but then, they were silly twolegger emotions. Thorn hadn't enjoyed fighting for Galbatorix, and knew that what they'd done for him was wrong, but he had accepted that and moved on. Murtagh held on to guilt over the people they'd killed, and sure, Thorn supposed that them dying was too bad, but he didn't lose sleep over it, not the way Murtagh did. Thorn hadn't personally known the people they'd killed, so he didn't miss them. But, Thorn mused, that was what made him the dragon, and Murtagh the human. Murtagh had to deal with all the pesky little moral quandaries.

"Hey," Murtagh murmured, sleep coating his thoughts, "you have morals too."

"Hmm," Thorn mused, "I suppose I do. I just don't let mine get in the way."

Murtagh was quiet. "Sometimes we have to. I needed this time away."

"Which is why we took it," Thorn added dryly.

"Yes, thank you." Murtagh bit sharply. He sighed, his voice quickly losing its edge. In a voice so small that Thorn had trouble hearing it in his head, Murtagh added, "because if I hadn't needed this time, what kind of person would I be?"

Thorn was impatient. His rider was getting back into self-loathing. "You'd be a dragon. Now, since you're awake, and we're over this gorgeous desert, how about we practice some manoeuvres? We haven't in so long, I almost wonder if you've forgotten them."

Murtagh took this as it was meant, a warning, and a change of topic. "You're on. Give me your worst." And Thorn immediately flipped backwards, and began corkscrewing through the air. Murtagh whooped, and grabbed on tightly. It had been a while.

Harry was still very confused. First, there had been another strange man in his room. The man had been dressed all in black, and had completely ignored him. Then, he had picked up Mama, but she was asleep, and lying on the floor. Then the man had started crying. He had stayed for ages, and no matter how loudly Harry cried, the man hadn't come to comfort him. And when he left, he'd left Mama on the floor. Didn't he know people were supposed to sleep in beds? But Mama wasn't supposed to be asleep anyway. He needed her, why wouldn't she wake up? And since the black man hadn't, why didn't Dada come to put Mama in bed. Was he asleep too? Didn't he remember that Dada's weren't supposed to be asleep when Harry's needed him?

Finally, Unc'e Si came. He was crying too. And he didn't pick up Mama! Sure, he was finally there to comfort him, but why didn't he wake Mama up to do it? Didn't he know that Mama would do it best?

A while later, a gigantic man came into Harry's room, and started yelling a bit. Of course, he didn't sound angry, but he was loud. Then, he told Unc'e Si that it was going to be okay, and said a bunch more grown-up-y stuff, none of which was about getting Mama or Dada, or about food. It was all about some Dumbledore fellow, and how he needed Harry. Well, Harry didn't want to have him. If Mama and Dada weren't coming anytime soon, then he wanted to stay with his Unc'e Si, or better, Unc'e 'emy, cause he knew how to make his head feel better, and knew all about bedtime, and made yummier food. Unc'e Si was better at games, and seemed to be around more often. He helped Harry get into all the good stuff, the stuff that Mama and Dada wouldn't always let him touch, like cookie dough, and finger paint. So Unc'e Si was high on his list of favourite people, but Unc'e 'emy would be better just now. However, when Unc'e Si passed him over to the giant man, and Harry found himself on Unc'e Si's motorbike, he figured he wouldn't be getting either. And when the giant gave him to an old, a super old guy, and Harry found himself alone in the cold, there was nothing for him to do, but to go to sleep, and hope Mama and Dada found him soon, because he wanted a lullaby, and some warm milk, and some food, and for his head to stop hurting.

Murtagh knew that he was nearing where Eragon was. While he was scrying, he hadn't been able to see a location, as he hadn't been there before, but there was a sort of pull coming from right ahead of him. He'd come across something that would create that effect in his studies at Farthen Dûr, during his house arrest. It was a spell, of sorts, that would call to anybody in the area, that fit a certain criteria. He supposed it was calling, one, to all dragon riders, and two, only to those that were looking, because he'd felt it all the way in the North, but only after he'd resolved on finding Eragon.

Murtagh nearly smiled as he saw his favourite great blue dragon flying towards him. She came in quickly, and, by unspoken agreement, Saphira and Thorn landed, barely fifteen meters apart.

"Murtagh," Eragon greeted shortly, "I didn't expect you here so soon."

"So soon?" Murtagh asked in surprise.

"Yes, soon. I'd hoped you'd come visit some day, but I didn't expect you to for another decade at least."

"We come for aid in finding our inner peace." Thorn explained to Eragon and Saphira. "We were hoping you'd be able to help us move forward, past our crimes."

"We see," Saphira answered, as Eragon remounted, "how about you come inside, and we can see what we can do."

"Thank you," Murtagh murmured, jumping back into his saddle.

Notes:

•Unc'e Si, is supposed to be Uncle Sirius, Unc'e 'emy, is supposed to be Uncle Remus, and Unc'e 'e'er, is supposed to be Uncle Peter.

•I would also appreciate any criticisms or suggestions on how to improve my writing, be it grammar, style, or a detail I got wrong from either the Inheritance series, or the Harry Potter series

•To be continued