First fanfic everybody! Hope you like it! More on the way.

Chapter One

Eragon was bored. It had been 500 years since he happily stabbed Galbatorix in the heart. For half a millennium, he had been training riders and sending them back to Alagaesia. for the first 450 years, it was fun, though his heart was pained from the loss of loved ones and friends, he was happy to help raise their descendants. But the thing that troubled him most, was Arya. He always thought about her, and was never directly contacted by her. Even when she sent him new riders, all he got was a curt nod and, "You're welcome, Ebrithil Shadeslayer." from the elf who sent them. Every time he wrote to her, or sent a messenger, he only got back: Arya Drotting cannot reply, as she is busy at the moment. Every time he saw this, he involuntarily set something (or someone) on fire.

Nothing much had changed about him, he looked the same, he sounded the same, generally acted the same, but he didn't feel the same. He was much sadder, much wiser. As for his skills, he was gradually getting better with magic. Sword-wise, he went from Kill-a-battalion-of-20 -soldiers-in-20-minutes deadly, to Kill-a-battalion-of-50-soldiers-in-10-seconds deadly. He had time to practice on the tribes of whatever new land he was in.

Eragon was sitting in his study, talking to a recruit who had drained too much of their energy during a spell, and then fainted. He was an elf, who Eragon knew well from his time in Alagaesia, named Vanir. Back when Eragon first met Vanir, when Eragon himself was still wholly human, he was a young and vain elf, who relished the opportunity to defeat a lesser human in a duel. He had wizened up after Agaeti Blhodren, some-500 years ago, when Eragon experienced all the changes a new human Rider goes through over the period of a hundred or so years in a few hours. Eragon gained the speed and strength of an elf, and defeated Vanir with ridiculous ease the next time they fought.

"Vanir, you must understand the properties of magic. It requires the amount of physical strength to do something with magic as it would if you did it without magic," said Eragon.

"For example, if you were to use magic to throw a rock, you would feel as tired as you would as if you had picked it up and thrown it."

Vanir sighed, clearly bored. "Yes, Ebrithil."

Eragon dismissed him, but couldn't resist a parting quip. "Same time on the morrow?"

Vanir ignored him, and stepped out to join his stark-white/silver dragon, Argetos.

Eragon's mind returned to Arya, wondering how she handled the various pockets of resistance against the Empire (comprised of Galbatorix's old followers and the remainder of Dras-Leona's religious cult, both led by the Ra'zac.). They're probably fine, said Saphira. Eragon still couldn't get over how big she had grown. Her head was about the size of a bull, and she was about as tall as most buildings. She had trouble in cities. Yes Saphira, I know that they're fine, but what if-.He was interrupted by one of his messengers, "Ebrithil! Ellesmera has been captured! The rebel groups conspired to create a Shade! Arya Drotting has been-"

Eragon was on Saphira as soon as he heard, "Arya."