The rain hit them like a thousand cannon balls; the cold, bitter wind howled in Eragon's ears, it rocked Saphira as she flew through it. Black storm clouds surrounded them, covering the sky with a pitch black blanket. Were it not for Saphira's sight and the seeing ward Eragon had placed around them, they would have been blind. Occasionally the sky would be illuminated by bright, white lightning; tearing the charcoal sky in two.
Fighting against the wind and rain was exhausting; Eragon could already feel his and Saphira's strength depleting. Yet, he knew they could not give up, they could not turn back. For this was no ordinary flight. This was a Hunt.
Though whether they were the hunter or the hunted was a whole different matter.
Their quarry was a creature, an unnamed, an unknown. It had already killed two wild dragons and seriously injured another. Eragon had thought at first that it was a Lethrblaka, the terrifying mounts and parents of the fearsome Ra'zac. Though he and Roran had killed the last of them in Alagësia, it was still possible that they could exist elsewhere.
But, he had completely abandoned this idea when he had caught a glimpse of the creature: Firstly, because it has more batlike in comparison to the Lethrblaka, secondly because it was much, much bigger.
Eragon heard the leathery flap of the creatures giant wings just in time as it dive bombed them from above, a dark shadow shooting through the midnight heavens. Saphira rolled out the way, just in time, the creature's claws scraping her soft belly. She howled in frustration and retaliated by blowing a pillar of hot, blue flame towards the beast. It screamed in pain as it was engulfed in the flames, but the rain soon extinguished the fire.
Wheeling away, it readied itself for a counter attack. The two adversaries stood suspended in the air for a moment, Eragon wiped the blood from his chin. And then suddenly they clashed together; Claws scratching, wings and legs tangling. The monster scraped it claws along Saphira's hind legs. She sank her teeth her teeth into its throat. Bitter blood filled her mouth. Bile rose in Eragons throat, as he too could taste its foul sting. Quickly they disengaged. Saphira was covered in scratches, some mere flesh wounds, others deep enough to cause Eragon some serious worry. Not only that but Eragon himself was injured, he had also not been immune to the bat creatures teeth and claws.
Maybe we should return to Dras-Ignasia, Eragon thought, and return when we are healed and the weather is...more agreeable.
Abandon a battle! Saphira snorted with derision, we are not cowards Eragon and anyway can't you see we have the upper hand!
Eragon could see. The creature was flapping at an angle, as one of its wings had been slightly crushed and blood coated its fur.
Saphira dived towards the beast, snarling and roaring. The creature shrieked as Saphira sank her fangs into its throat. It tried to struggle away, but its struggles proved fruitless. Finally it let out one final terrifying scream before going limp. Saphira let go of the body, letting it spiral towards the earth.
Eragon slumped forward, letting some of his remaining energy flow into Saphira. She growled
What are you doing Little One, trying to kill yourself!
You need this energy more than I do, we still have to fly back to Dras-Ignasia, Eragon replied.
You're still as foolish as when we first met, Saphira growled back. But she did not protest anymore.
The rain and the wind had lessened, and the sky had begun to clear. Eragon and Saphira soared through the sky, exhausted, but triumphant after their successful battle.
...
Soon they arrived back at Dras-Ignasia, The Bright City. The city Eragon and Saphira had created, their home. It was called The Bright City because at night it was bathed in white light, created by the thousands of were-lights that decorated the City. It was said that these were-lights were created so that no darkness could ever enter the city and harm its residents – Rider and Dragon alike. However, the truth was that Eragon and the head riders had created these lights was to prove visibility around the city during the dark winter months
But, this was not the only reason why it was called The Bright City. It was also given this name because it was seen as a beacon of hope. Not only for dragons and riders, recently many magic wielders had fled Alagësia. Usually because they feared the rules Nasuada had placed around magic or because they refused to pledge allegiance to her. Dras-Ignasia had become a haven to them all.
Saphira flew lower over the city, its massive domes and turrets almost scraping her stomach. She cast a dark shadow over the cobbled streets.
Eventually, they reached the main courtyard, they dipped down and landed. Eragon gripped his saddle tightly as Saphira galloped awkwardly desperately trying to keep her balance. Eragon laughed as he dismounted,
Still finding landings hard Saphira?
She growled, I can also still eat you in one bite Little One, she said playfully as she butted his head with hers.
All of a sudden Eragons thoughts were inundated with a hundred inquiring thoughts:
How are you Shadeslayer?
Bjartskuler, you are wounded?
Do you need a healer?
Is the bat monster dead?
How did the battle fair? Was it bloody?
I have already begun a poem about your deed, Shadeslayer. Should I sing it next feast?
"Enough!" bellowed Eragon, clutching his head. Immediately his mind was clear. He sighed and stood up. Surrounding him were concerned faces, many of them still wearing their night clothes. "I'm sorry," he said "I'm just tired from the fight". He made his way through the crowd.
"Eragon," a young dwarf approached him, Ulrich, Eragon could see his brown dragon, Dorma, perching on a nearby roof "Is the dragonkiller dead?" he asked.
Eragon nodded wearily. The crowd erupted into cheers, and began hugging and laughing. They were so caught up in their happiness they did not notice Eragon slipping away.
...
Eragon climbed into chambers avoiding all eye contact and brushing of all offers of healing spells and food. When he eventually reached his room he flopped on his bed, exhaustion catching up with him. Not soon after he heard the telltale flap and thump of Saphira entering her adjacent cavern and immediately reached out for him.
Why don't you join in with the festivities? She asked, Barrett has opened ten new caskets of ale in celebration and the dwarves have promised to play and...
I don't want to, Eragon replied burying his face into his pillow.
What's wrong Little One? Saphira asked concerned.
Eragon got up and went to Saphira's cavern; he could already hear the muffled singing of the dwarves. I just think it is wrong to celebrate death, he replied, tickling her chin. Saphira remained unfazed, it's because it's near that time isn't it? Nearly 15 years since we left them...
Eragon ignored her; instead he walked around Saphira checking for any wounds that the healers might have missed. Eragon, don't avoid me! Saphira said sharply, flicking her tail in irritation. Knowing it was fruitless to try and evade her question any longer, Eragon collapsed against her warm flank, I just miss her so much; he rubbed his face before letting out a derisive laugh. Look at me! I'm behaving like a lovesick teenager; for goodness sake I'm four and thirty years old!
He leaned against Saphira, her rhythmic breathing was oddly comforting, he felt his eyes grow heavy and his limbs slump...
BANG! BANG! He jerked awake, Saphira growled with annoyance. If it's someone inviting us to the party, Gûntera help me, I will make them my dinner.
Eragon walked towards the door, waiting outside was a flustered male elf, his red face and rumpled clothes told them that he had come in a hurry. Immediately, Eragon knew something was not right.
"What's wrong?" he asked
"We have – gasp - had word – gasp - from Nasuada," the elf spluttered.
"What? Is it the rebels?" Eragon asked, aware of the troubles Alagësia was facing.
"No, it's – gasp – your cousin – "
"What about him?" Eragon snapped out of his semi-stupor. Roran was the only family he had. If anything had happened to him...
"It's his daughter, it's Ismira. Something has happened." The elf gasped
"What?