Angela the witch was present inside, sitting on a couch, with Solembum the werecat crouching comfortably beside her. But the main object of Eragon's attention, Elva, was lying down on the bed, her violet eyes shining with anticipation, the dragon-mark on her forehead dazzling.

This surprised Eragon, and he began to suspect that the dragon-mark was a sign of her emotions; whenever she felt strongly about something, it shone brightly. Basically, it is a modified version of my Gedwey Ignasia. Whenever I use magic or feel a sense of foreboding or elation, it glows too, he commented to Saphira.

Right you are.

On seeing him, Angela approached him fiercely and said, "So, the errant Rider makes an appearance at last. What delayed you so long, eh? Do you have any idea how badly that poor girl had to suffer, and all because of your mistake, Shur'tugal?"

"Yes, and I do feel very sorry about it, Angela. I am now going to heal her, to relieve her of all her suffering and give her a new life."

"Now? Well, that is good of you. However, you must never forget that all the pain Elva has suffered was due to you, even when she is healed."

"I would have to be the meanest person in Alagaesia, to do so."

Saying so, Eragon slowly walked over to Elva. When he looked into those violet eyes, he once again felt a pang of guilt and sorrow.

Do you think I can do this? he asked Saphira, doubt suddenly shooting through him.

Do not worry. I will augment your strength with my own reserves of energy. You have to do this. You cannot shy away from your duties.

Comforted by her words, Eragon turned to Elva once more, and said to her, "Lie down. I am going to put you to sleep. When you wake up again, all this will be over. The second part of your life is about to begin."

Elva immediately lay down, with a barely suppressed enthusiasm.

Eragon placed his palm on her forehead, and said, "Slytha." Elva's eyes closed, and she began to sleep peacefully.

Eragon was breathing deeply, readying himself for the spell. Arya, Nasuada, Angela and Roran leant forward in their seats, interestedly.

Ready, Saphira?

As always.

Eragon delved into his mind, allowing the magic to envelop him completely. He repeated the selected words in his mind, making sure that they were correct, for he knew that if he made a mistake again, Elva, Angela, Saphira and even he himself would never forgive him. His eyes burned with a strange blue glow, and his hands started vibrating. The power flowed through his veins, filling him with energy. In the ancient language, he said, "Se du feiknstaf fram ono waise heill. Atra gulia un ilian tauthr ono un atra ono waise skoliro fra rauthr." As the words escaped his lips, energy drained from his body at such a fast rate that even Saphira was alarmed. She rushed to his side, bolstering him with her own energy.

Eragon felt better when Saphira lent him her energy, but he knew that he was going to pass out soon. He could tell this by the darkness clouding his eyes, and the exhaustion clouding his mind.

He was relieved that a part of his duties was finally complete. Elva was now free from the curse that he had placed on her. She could finally lead a normal life. However, he saw that the dragon-mark Saphira had gifted her was still present. It now glowed with blinding light.

She must be really exhilarated. Then, after all, she had a good reason to. A very good reason.

Elva was completely different from before now. Her violet eyes had reverted back to their deep blue, and her face had a childish, sweet look. Her eyes and face gleamed with elation. Most of all, the terrible, knowing look on her face had vanished. She finally looked what she actually was - a sweet two-year old.

Elva shook her head confusedly. She placed her little palms on her temple, gasping now and then, taking deep, gulping breaths as if she had been underwater for a long time.

She was muttering incoherently to herself. Suddenly, Eragon felt her contact his mind, which surprised him since she was only two, and he had never expected her to be able to do that. But then, again, after all she had endured, he would never guess what hidden powers she could have. Her gratitude and surprise washed over him, and he felt relieved that she was finally healed.

Do not thank me. It was only my duty, he replied to her in his mind.

He could tell, by the blackness obliterating the corners of his vision, that he was not going to stay conscious for long. The last thing he saw before falling senseless was Roran, Arya and Nasuada rushing towards him worriedly.

But, deep in his mind, he finally felt relaxed, having completed one of his infinite obligations.

The curse had been lifted.