A/N: I know I shouldn't be doing two stories at once, but this plot bunny won't stop annoying me. XD

Anyway, this story will basically follow the same idea and flow of my other story "Heroes of Carvahall", which follows the plot of the book, same characters, same connections, same back-story, but with a major difference in the role my alter-ego Auron plays. (Read "Prologue" from other story if need be, I'm skipping it here...)

Here, a chance encounter and a forgotten myth come to light and forever change our heroes' lives and relationships. The first chapters may seem almost the same as before, but the main plot will be revealed shortly after, and then the two stories and things in them will differ...trust me.

I do not own the Inheritance Cycle or any related material. All original characters and content DO belong to me however.

So, enough blathering from me, here is Blood of a Dragon...


Auron's brow was wrinkled with equal parts determination and frustration as he struggled to hurry and finish packing. He mentally ran through a list in his head as he shoved items into his already bulging pack. Extra clothes...water skins... coin purse...coat?...nah, forget the coat...bedroll...let's see, where did I put that – ah! He grabbed his small hunting knife and its sheath and fastened it to the back of his belt. Normally he wasn't so flustered and rushed when packing for a trip, but this was no ordinary trip...and time was of the essence.

It had been two days since he had looked out his bedroom window and seen the smoke rising from the direction of Eragon's farm. Two days since he had run nearly all the way down the road, only to find the old storyteller Brom hunched over a collapsed Eragon and severely injured Garrow. His heart had skipped a beat and his mind raced, but then pure protective instinct took over. Not waiting for an explanation, he had grabbed his friend and hauled him up on his back, looping the unconscious boy's arms around his neck for support as he helped Brom half carry, half drag the older Garrow towards Carvahall.

Taking Garrow to Horst's house where he could be treated, Auron carried the still unconscious Eragon the the healer Gertrude's home, where the kindly woman began to treat him and his uncle as best she could. Offering his help, he was nonetheless turned away by Gertrude, stating that he had already done his part. Sagging against the outside wall, with traces of Eragon's blood still on his clothes, he tried to piece it all together. Eragon had been strangely distant the past month. Normally the two boys were practically attached at the hip; it had been so ever since they met when they were young. Eragon was more Auron's brother than his two dim-witted real brothers back home, and he knew Eragon viewed him the same. That's why his sudden anti-social behavior and secretive nature had Auron worried. Something was going on with his friend, and he was going to find out.

"Brom!" he stated sitting up, suddenly realizing the obvious. Eragon had only ventured out once since his seclusion started, and that was to see the old storyteller...and it was Brom who was first on the scene when they found Eragon and Garrow. The old man knew something, that was for sure.

Forgetting his weariness, Auron practically sprinted through town to the man's house. He slid to a stop before the door, and checking to make sure the old man was home, he flung open the door and marched right in.

"Okay, start talking." he said sharply, slamming the door behind him. He grabbed the back of a nearby chair and hunched toward the seemingly unsurprised owner. "What's going on? And don't tell me you don't know, because I know you do. You always do. So spill it."

"Please, won't you come in?" Brom remarked sourly. He leaned back in his own chair and regarded the boy with a stoic expression. "What makes you think I know anything about what happened? I arrived to find Garrow and his nephew only moments before you did."

"Don't give me that!" Auron shot back, "For weeks Eragon has been avoiding me and you. Then out of the blue, he makes a special trip into town just to see you. Not a day later, these two dark strangers ride into town and scare the living wits out of everyone, asking questions about some...some stone. Then Eragon's farm his utterly destroyed, I find him and his uncle battered and beaten in the middle of the road, strange large animal tracks all over the place, and notice you're sporting a new head wound too." He gestured at the bandage around Brom's head, breathing quickly from his tirade. Brom merely shifted into a more comfortable position and lit his pipe, completely unphased by the young man's verbal assault.

Auron manages to calm himself somewhat before continuing. "Something is going on in this village; something that nearly killed my best friend. Now I'm not leaving until you tell me what you know." His ice-blue eyes burned into Brom's, but the old man held his gaze, contemplating. After what seemed like an hour, Brom sighed and relented.

"You two are impossible. Just as stubborn and thick headed as the other." Auron's only response was to raise an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. "Fine, I'll tell you, but only because if I don't I know you'll just end up following me around until I do, and I do so hate having a shadow with a voice." He grit his teeth on the end of his pipe as his spoke, "Things are not what they seem anymore in Alagaesia. Young Eragon has stumbled into something he could never have prepared for. I'll tell you what's happened, and what I plan to do about it...but you may not like it."

"Try me."

And so the old man told him everything: the gedwey ignasia he found on Eragon's palm and what it meant, the two strangers that destroyed the farm and what they were after, and what now needed to be done to protect Eragon, his young dragon, and themselves.

Auron tied the top of his pack shut and looped a strap over his shoulder. He knew what he was doing was crazy, reckless, hell...even suicidal. But he was not about to let Eragon run off without someone to watch his back. Family, real or not, doesn't abandon each other, no matter the circumstances. He may not be Eragon's true brother, but right now he was all he had. Garrow had succumbed to his grievous injuries and passed on the night before. According to Brom, it was only a matter of time before Eragon did something stupid, and they would be going right along with him, whether Eragon liked it or not.

Creeping out from his room, Auron slipped down the hall towards the closet where Tegarth kept his weapons. As proud of his physical fitness as he was, Auron was not about to believe he could get by with only his fists. Opening the closet doors, his eyes flicked back and forth over the several different weapons within. Caught up in deciding between and sword or a bladed staff, he therefor didn't notice the figure walk up behind him.

"You might want to take these instead."

Auron whipped around ready to act, only to see his mother standing there holding two dark handled swords and their rigging. Orianna's face gave nothing away, yet everything. A small smile on her lips, contrasted by the sad eyes above them. "Here," she said pushing the two blades toward her son.

Auron accepted the swords slowly, and met his mother's own blue eyes. "These are yours. I can't -"

She cut him off with a hug. "They are yours now, and they will serve you well." She cupped he son's face with her soft hands. "Go. Be safe. I love you."

He blinked slowly, "You're not even going to ask what I'm doing, or where I'm going?"

" I don't need to." she laughed lightly. "Now go, before you father finds you."

"But I -"

"Go Auron." she said more firmly. "Watch over each other."

He backed away from his mother, still clutching the twin blades. His mind was screaming questions, but his instinct knew it was futile. Orianna was as mysterious as Brom sometimes; her past life as closely guarded as his. How someone like her ended up with Tegarth was one such mystery, but Auron had learned long ago that some secrets just had to be found the hard way.

He tossed the rigging straps of the swords over his other shoulder, turned and headed for the door. He stopped with his hand on the handle, and glanced back.

"I love you too."

Then he was gone.


Brom's foot tapped impatiently as they waited by the stand of trees they had watched Eragon stash several hides in. Since leaving his home, Auron had met up with the old storyteller and together they had shadowed Eragon as he sneaked out of Horst's house and through town. He had also strapped on the swords his mother had gave him; their ebony black handles rising over his shoulders, the weight strangely reassuring on this back. Auron noticed that Brom also came armed and prepared with his own pack and sword. Now they waited for Eragon to return.

Brom huffed with impatience again. "How long does it take to steal meat from one butcher?" The stolen hides where in his hands, as insurance in case Eragon tired to run when they presented themselves.

"I'm sure he'll be along – there." Auron tilted his head toward the rapidly approaching boy. Here we go he thought.

Eragon slid to a stop next to the trees looking for the hides, the front of his shirt bulging with the pilfered meat. It was then the two hidden figures revealed themselves.

"Going somewhere?" Brom growled.

Eragon whirled around to face them. "Give me those!" He grabbed the hides from Brom, and backed away from them.

"Running off before Garrow is even buried?"

"None of your business. Why are you following me?"

Auron stepped forward, his arms raised in a gesture to try and calm his friend. "We were waiting for you Eragon. We know what's going on."

Eragon's face darkened. "What are you talking about?"

Brom pointed to the meat he had stole from the butcher. " Hopefully you have enough to feed your dragon."

Eyes going wide, Eragon started to say something but Brom cut him off. "I know where that mark on your palm, the gedwey ignasia, comes from. You touched a dragon hatchling." Brom's mouth turned upward into a smirk. "I know why you came to me with those questions, and now I know the Riders live again."

Dropping the leather and the meat, Eragon quickly contacted Saphira and felt her take off toward him. He attempted to stall Auron and Brom.

"How did you find out?"

Brom looked into the distance and moved his lips as if he were talking to someone. Auron saw this and said, "I had my suspicions about your behavior lately. After the incident at your farm, I confronted Brom and he told me what I needed to know."

"Interrogated is more like it." The old man retorted.

Eragon's shoulders slumped. They knew.

Brom turned his attention back to Eragon. "Tell me, how is you dragon?"

"She is fine. We weren't actually at the farm when it was destroyed."

"Ah, your legs. You were out flying I take it?" Auron's eyebrows shot up at this, as he looked at Eragon, surprised.

How do they know so much? Did the strangers coerce them into doing this? Maybe they're using them to get to me. Where is Saphira? Panic started to well up in Eragon as he looked toward the sky. He could see her circling overhead, but she wasn't coming down. Come!

No, I will watch for a while.

Why?

Because of the slaughter at Doru Araeba.

What?

Brom regarded him with a small smile. " I have talked with her and she has agreed to stay above us until we settle our differences. Now you really have no choice but to answer our questions." At this Auron nodded and he placed his hands at his hips, waiting, as Brom continued. "Now, tell us, where are you going?"

Eragon's head hurt as ideas and thoughts whirled around his mind. How can he talk to Saphira? I won't be able to lie to them, but I can't tell them everything either. I at least have to tell them something. He took a breath to steady himself before looking at the two, "I was going to find a safe place to stay while I heal."

"And after that?"

The question could not be ignored. The throbbing in his head grew worse and he found it impossible to think. All he wanted was to be able to tell someone about the events of the past few months. It tore him apart that his secret had caused Garrow's death. Finally he gave in and said shakily, "I was going to hunt down these strangers and kill them."

Yup, crazy and reckless thought Auron humorously. Exactly what I expected buddy.

Brom simply nodded, as if Eragon had just stated something obvious. "Certainly a worthy endeavor and one you are fit to carry out, yet it seems to me that help would not be unwelcome." With this, he reached behind a bush and pulled out a pack of his own, hefting it to his shoulder. "Anyway, I'll be damned to stay behind while some stripling gets to run around with a dragon."

"He means we'll be damned." Auron piped up, giving Brom a scowl, and moving to stand next to Eragon, who turned to give him a longing look; one that was equal parts apprehension and worry as well as involuntary happiness as his not-of-family brother practically volunteered to follow him into Hell. "Don't even try to stop me," Auron stated, returning his look with one of determination, "I've known you forever Eragon. We've been though thick and thin together, and there's no way I'd let you go it alone."

Eragon saw the truth in his words, and knew he could never dissuade him. I know I can trust you Auron...Brom I'm unsure of. Is he really offering to help, or is it a trap? He was afraid of what his enemies were capable of. But he was able to convince Saphira through the mind-touch and if she isn't worried... He decided to give him them the benefit of the doubt for now. "I don't need your help," he said grudgingly, "but you can come it you want."

"Then we had best be going." Brom said, his face blanking for a moment once again. "I think you'll find your dragon will listen to you again."

Saphira? asked Eragon

Yes?

Will you meet us at the farm?

Yes. Have you reached an agreement with them?

I guess so. She broke contact with him as she soared away. In the distance, he could see people running among the houses of Carvahall. "I think everyone is looking for me."

Auron raised an eyebrow, "Probably. Ready to go?" He had a slight grin in the corner of his mouth, eagerness plain on his face.

Eragon hesitated. "I should leave a note for Roran. It would be wrong to run off without telling him why."

"Its been taken care of," Brom assured him. "I left a message with Gertrude this morning explaining a few things, and told him to be on his guard for certain dangers. Will that do?"

Eragon nodded. He wrapped the leather around the meat and turned toward the road that led to the farm, Brom and Auron close behind. The trio was careful to stay out of sight until they reached a bend in the road, and then quickened their pace, eager to leave Carvahall. Eragon plowed ahead determinedly, his legs burning. The monotone of the walking freed his mind to think. He planned on going no further until he got some answers from Brom. I hope he can tell me more about the Riders and who it is I'm fighting.

As the wreckage of the farm came into view, both Auron and Brom's faces beetled with anger. The barn was no more, only a rectangle of soot remained. Snow and dirt we piled about the house concealing signs of the strangers attack.

Brom's head snapped up and Auron looked around as the sound of Saphira's wings reached them. She dived from behind them, coming in close to their heads as she wheeled around gracefully and landed in front of them.

"Wow..." Auron whispered, wide-eyed with wonder, his mouth open in a half smile, half shocked look. Brom stepped forward with a look both solemn and joyous. A tear shone on his cheek as he stood there looking at Saphira, and she at him. Eragon noticed him muttering something under his breath and edged closer to hear.

"So...it starts again. But how and where will it end? I cannot see for my sight is veiled; be this tragedy of farce I am uncertain, for elements of both are here. However my station is unchanged and I..."

Anything else was lost as Saphira proudly approached them. Eragon passed his two dumbfounded companions and greeted her. There was something different between them now, as if they knew each other more intimately, and yet they were still strangers. He rubbed her neck, and his palm tingled as their minds touched. He could feel a strong curiosity emanate from her.

I've never seen humans except you and Garrow, and he was badly injured. She tilted her head quizzically. You really are strange creatures.

You've viewed people through my eyes.

Its not the same... She came closer to Auron and Brom and lowered her long head so she could inspect them with one brilliant blue eye. She continued to stare at them, sniffing the air around them. Auron slowly reached out with his hand, and she bowed he head so he could pat her lightly on the nose. She snorted and shook her head slightly, giving him a start.

That tickles she laughed in his head, and he relaxed again, smiling fully now. She turned to Brom as he did the same, allowing him to touch her lightly on the brow. This time she jerked back, and retreated behind Eragon.

What is it he asked. She didn't reply.

Auron turned to him, his wide smile still plastered on his face. "What's her name?" he asked in a soft voice.

"Saphira." A peculiar expression crossed Brom's face as he said this. His knuckles grew white as he gripped his staff tightly. "Of all the names you gave me that day, this is the only one she liked. I think it fits." Eragon added quickly.

"Fit it does." said Brom. There was something in his voice; wonder, fear, envy? It could have been none of them or all, Eragon was unsure. Brom raised his voice, "Greetings, Saphira. We are honored to meet you." He twisted his hand in a strange gesture over his chest and bowed. Auron doing the same, but with a slight more flourish.

I like them Saphira said quietly

Of course, everyone enjoys flattery. Eragon touched her on the shoulder and then went to his ruined house, Saphira with him. Auron and Brom followed behind, both of them vibrant and alive.

After salvaging what he could from the wreckage of the house, Eragon led them to a small clearing in the woods nearby. Saphira flew to meet them there, less she leave anymore tracks than she already had. As they settled down by the fire Eragon started preparing, Auron began repairing his pack. Saphira landed beside them and folded her wings, so she wouldn't catch them on any thorns. She curled up beside Eragon and Auron. Her unreadable eyes lingered on his face, then passed over the two black handles rising above his shoulders, as if nervous. She followed his motions as he first disassembled, then started to reassemble the broken frame. She watched him closely, causing Eragon to fidget. What's wrong? he asked her. Saphira's scrutiny of his friend made him uneasy.

I don' t know. A connection of sorts...I feel as if I know him, which is strange considering I've never met him before. She shook her head, as if unsure of what she was saying. Eragon pondered this; he could feel her unease and yet he could also feel a note of recognition, then he realized what it was.

You do know him, in a way. From my memories. You've seen him when you've looked into my mind. You feel a connection because I consider him a very close friend, and that emotion must transfer to you. Eragon patted her neck as she finally looked away from Auron and at her rider. He reassured her with his thoughts and said I trust him Saphira, and you should too. He was right, I have known him for a long time. Although I never expected him to volunteer to join me on a crazy scheme like this...I can't think of anyone else I'd rather have at my side. Except you of course.

She nuzzled the side of his head in affection for the comment, then proceeded to lay her head on her paws, her gaze drifting back to Auron. She studied him for a moment longer. You're right, Eragon. I can sense it in you; of all the people we may meet, he is one that will stay true to us. And we may need all the help we can get.

Brom had been watching this silent exchange, leaning on his staff. He too was scrutinizing the young man, as if forming his own opinions on him. "Since there's a good chance along this journey you may need them, I take it you know how to use those?" he asked gruffly, gesturing to the two swords that were sheathed across Auron's back, his face poised in a skeptical expression.

Turning from his work on Eragon's pack, Auron returned Brom's look with a smug expression of his own. "Don't worry about me, old man. I can take care of myself."

"Really? Do tell. I'm interested in how the son of a greedy tax collector believes he can contribute to this endeavor."

Auron snorted, and pushed the half finished pack away so he could look at Brom more directly. "My brothers, the dull-witted trolls that they are, have always emulated my father. They desired nothing more than to follow in Tegarth's footsteps and serve our dear King," his last words heavy with sarcasm, "And since they lacked the metal capacity to take up any kind of business like him, they decided that they would volunteer in the King's army. Naturally, they chose me to practice their skills on." He smirked as Eragon's and Brom's eyebrows rose at this news.

"I've been wielding a sword: wooden, metal or otherwise, since I was old enough to hold one. I can hold my own in a fight. That, and my mother taught me a more than a few things she picked up when she was a traveling bard. I must say, she was no pushover either."At this, he reached up and slowly pulled one of the two blades on his back from its sheath, Brom and Eragon watching him as he did so. The polished silver blade hissed ever so quietly, it's mirror surface reflecting the sky in the late afternoon sun.

Eragon looked on, his eyes drawn to the swords. He never knew Auron owned weapons, much less such masterfully crafted ones. He watched as Auron twisted the blade, catching the sun's rays on the flat side and bouncing it off Saphira's scaled flank. She raised her head to look at the sparkling patch of scales, and cocked her head quizzically at him, her own curiosity mixing with Eragon's.

Auron then flipped the sword around, holding it by the blade and handed it hilt-first to Brom, who took it, and inspected it with interest. Fingers lingering on the delicate wire of the handle, he traced the strange glyphs barely noticeable against the deep black of the metal . His eyes widened slightly, a look recognition crossing his face, but it was quickly hidden when he cleared his throat to speak.

"Hmm...these are of elven make. Their work is unmistakable. But how did they come to you?" he moved to return the blade to Auron.

Accepting the blade back, he took one last glance at the polished surface once more before returning it to the sheath on his back. "They were my mother's. She never did tell me where she got them, only that their story is a unique as hers. When I was packing to leave and join the two of you, I planned to raid Tegarth's closet and take one of his weapons with me. However, my mother caught me. I thought I was in trouble, but she didn't even look surprised. Instead of asking what I was doing, or where I was going, she simply smiled and pushed them into my hands saying 'You're going to need these'." His gaze dropped as a look of sadness crossed his usually bright features. "I don't know how, but it's almost like she knew..."

Brom, who had been lost in his own thoughts for a few minutes, suddenly started and said, "That reminds me." He removed something wrapped in cloth from his own pack and and thrust it toward Eragon, startling him out of his own reprieve. "If you plan on taking up the mantle of the Dragon Riders, you might as well have this."

Eragon took the object and began to remove its wraps with a confused expression. His eyes shot open, and he heard a low gasp from Auron, when the cloth fell away to reveal a sword. A handle of silver wire topped with a gold pommel extended from a blood red sheath. A ruby the size of a small egg rested in the pommel. A black symbol was etched onto the sheath, and upon drawing the sword, Eragon saw it was also present on the blade itself, standing out from the iridescent red metal. Wordlessly, he turned to Brom, "Why...?"

"This was once a Rider's blade." Brom said gravely. "When his training was finished, the elves would present him with a sword. Their methods of forging have always remained a secret. However, their swords are eternally sharp and will never stain. The custom was to have the Rider's blade match his dragon, but I think we can make an exception in this case." He watched Eragon swing the blade experimentally.

"Where did you get it?" Eragon moved to give it back, unsure if Brom was serious about giving it to him, but he made no move to take it.

"That's not important." said Brom. "Consider it yours, you have more of a claim to it than I do, and before all is done, I daresay you will need it."

The offer caught Eragon off guard. "It is a princely gift, thank you." He brought the sword closer, and showed it to Auron who nodded his approval. A thought tugged at his mind, and he turned back to Brom. "I've been meaning to ask you, how are you able to speak with Saphira?"

"If you must know, anyone can learn to speak to a dragon if they have a proper training. And," he raised a finger for emphasis, "it doesn't mean anything if they can. Now, I know more about dragons and their abilities than almost anyone alive. I'm offering my knowledge to the lot of you as a shortcut; it would take years for you to learn on your own. As to how I know so much, that I will keep to myself."

After he finished speaking Saphira pulled herself closer to Eragon. He pulled out the rider blade and showed it to her. It has power she remarked and touched the point of it with her nose. The metal's iridescent color rippled, almost like it was made of water. With a satisfied snort, she removed her nose and the sword returned to normal. Eragon replaced the sword in its sheath with a troubled expression.

Brom raised an eyebrow, "That's the sort of thing I'm talking about. Dragon's will constantly amaze you. Things...happen around them. The Riders worked with them for centuries and still never fully understood their abilities. What Saphira just did illustrates my point; there is much you don't know."

There was a long pause from all before Eragon spoke again. "That may be, but I can learn. And these strangers are the most important thing I need to know about right now. Do you have any idea who they are?"

And so Brom explained it to three of them. The Ra'zac, as they were called, were some of the foulest creatures to walk the land. Despite their appearance, the were not even remotely human. Precious little was know about them, only that they were never seen before Galbatorix came to power. Under their hoods were black eyes the size of fist and beaks where a mouth would be, making how they produced speech a mystery. Stronger than a man but unable to use magic, their only real weakness is their aversion to sunlight, although it cannot completely stop them.

As they listened to Brom tell this, and how he tried to confront them on his own, bitterness suddenly swelled up in Eragon. Finally he could not contain himself any longer. "Who are you?" he spat. "How come a mere village storyteller just happens to have a Rider's sword? How do you know so much about dragons, and the Ra'zac?"

Brom tapped his pipe. "I thought I made it clear I wasn't going to talk about that."

"My uncle is dead because of this! Dead!" exclaimed Eragon, slashing his hand through the air. Auron and Saphira tried to say something, but he cut them off. "I've trusted you this far because Saphira respects you, but no more! You're not the person I knew in Carvahall these years."

Auron put his hand on Eragon's shoulder, trying to calm him down, "Eragon..."

Eragon pushed him away angrily, his eyes burning at Brom,"No! No more! Explain yourself!"

For a long time, Brom stared at the smoke rising from the campfire between them, deep lines creased his forehead. When he stirred, it was only to refill his pipe with tobacco and take another puff. Finally he said, "You've probably never thought about it, but most of my life has been spent outside of Palancar Valley. It was only in Carvahall that I took up the mantle of storyteller. I have played many roles to many different people – I have a complicated past. It was partly of desire to escape it that I came here. So, no, I am not the man you think I am."

"Ha," snorted Eragon. "Then who are you?"

Brom smiled gently. "I am the person who is here to protect you..." he glanced over at Auron, "well one of them anyway. Do not scorn those words; they are the truest I have ever spoken. But I'm not going to answer your questions. At this point you don't need to hear my history, nor have you earned that right. True, I have knowledge that Brom the storyteller wouldn't, but I'm more than he. You'll have to learn to live with that fact and the fact I don't hand out descriptions of my life to anyone who asks!"

Eragon glared at him sullenly. "I'm going to sleep." he said, leaving the fire. Brom did not seem surprised, but there was sorrow in his eyes. He rolled out his bedroll next to the fire as Eragon went and lay beside Saphira and Auron, who had found himself next to the dragoness during Eragon's angry outbursts. As she allowed the two to lay up against her side, Auron cast a look of concern toward Eragon.

Eragon caught this, and rolled away from him to face Saphira's scaly leg. An icy silence fell over the camp.


Auron watched Eragon for a time, worry for his friend permeating his mind. He had lost a great deal, and now they were planning a quest that may make them loose even more. He thought about what may lie ahead, but a hard thought swept everything else away. He would stick by Eragon, and his dragon Saphira (if she'd let him), no matter what happened.

The dragoness turned her head to look at Auron. He felt a pressure on his mind as he heard her voice in his head. You are a determined one aren't you?

He nodded slightly, not knowing if could answer with his mind.

I confess; I do not know you well enough yet Auron, but Eragon regards you very highly. I can sense from him that you are as loyal as you claim. But on this I must be sure. Eragon means the world to me, I will do everything in my power to protect him. I need to know that you will do the same.

Auron contemplated what Saphira had just said. He could feel the emotion behind her words, and knew she wanted to know just how far Auron was willing to go to help them. He focused on her, concentrated, and answered back with his thoughts.

I would die to protect him Saphira, and those he cares about. That means you too. At this, the dragoness blinked. He sensed a curious sensation from her. You may be a dragon, and there may not be much a mere human like me can do to protect you, but that won't stop me from trying. Family sticks together Saphira. I consider Eragon family, and you two are bonded closer than anything, so that includes you as well.

Saphira regarded him wordlessly. Connected to his mind, she felt the truth of those words. Her eyes softened and she gently nudged his arm. Thank you Auron. Same to you.

Auron shivered as her mind withdrew from his. He smiled lightly back at her, before closing his eyes and letting sleep take him. Tomorrow could be a long day.


A/N: Like I said before, this may seem very similar to my other story, but that will soon change. As you can see, I changed the early bits to Auron's perspective instead of Eragon's previously, and added some others. The next chapter or two may be similar again, considering this is almost the same story, but after that, things should begin to diverge.