Funnelwebs: Yeah; I'm sad that it's coming to an end too. At the same time I'm happy because this is more or less my personal redemption from the absolute hack jobs the last stories were. As for my intent after the trilogy ends; I don't really know. I might make something new, but just as likely I may end my days on FanFiction for good. Because, to do a story well takes a couple of years and I'm not sure I'm ready to invest that a third time. We shall have to see.

Elemental Dragon Slayer: :) I assure you, he will; although hopefully not in the manner you expect.

Blackwind2254: Well, here you go. A nice heaping pile of relatively short chapter. As for your last sentence: hooray for overlapping redundancies! :)

Rathon was tired; so very tired. He had lost track of how many days he and Leonis had flown across the waters. The last count Rathon had on the days was thirty four and then they all blended together without meaning or purpose. When Leonis lost the power to fly, he swam atop the waters and allowed his wings to rest. Rathon would fish while he did this, using energy manipulation to summon, kill and retrieve his prey. They would go until they found some outcropping of rock big enough to accommodate Leonis, and then they would sleep.

Rathon gradually came to think that they had missed Alalea all together and that they were doomed to fly until the world dropped away and they floated among the abyss that the spirits inhabited. He began to see things that logically could not have been there. At least four times he thought they had bumped into a ship on the waters; three of those times they had been flying. He would periodically look down and see human fish creatures swimming below, only for them to disappear the next moment. The visions of dragons around them were an oft repeated one. He could not even fathom a guess as to how many times he thought he saw Katelyn.

Rathon lay on Leonis' back as he drifted through the water. The midday sun beat down upon him. His skin felt like he was sitting in a sword crafter's smelting pot. Leonis swam only lightly, for his muscles ached from weeks of flying with only little rest.

Are we to die here, Rathon?

Your guess is as good as mine, friend, he replied. "Was this your plan all along, Calibor? To have me leave the only place I've ever called home in favor of the open sea, to die? I will always be on your side, you once said. What kind of friend sends his fellow out to suffer and die in the boundless sea?"

There was no reply.

Rathon gave up. He was going to perish and there was nothing he could do about it. He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds around him, the last sound of his life. He listened to the water rushing up against Leonis' side. He listened to seagulls in the skies cry. He listened to the… Rathon's eyes snapped open and he pushed himself up. Birds, he thought. How are there birds? We're in the middle of the… He stood up and gapped at what he saw. His heart sank to his knees and he forgot how to breathe for a moment.

Maybe a mile away was land. Green mountains stretched off past a small beach, mist clinging to their highest points. Animals roomed over the surface, birds flew in the air and he could the life force of sentient beings.

"Leonis!" he called.

His dragon opened his eyes and on seeing what his rider saw heaved his bulk out of the waters and took to the air. They flew up sharply, higher than the clouds and then dove for the land of Alalea, their journey over. Leonis crashed down to the earth and moaned in relief as he felt his limbs finally and completely relax.

Rathon leapt off his dragon and looked around, expecting to see people. But no one was there. Leonis picked himself up and crawled to Rathon. Leonis, Rathon said, I dislike asking you, but would fly around the skies and see what you can see? I sense people, but I can't sense who they are, and I ill like the concept of being taken by surprise.

I don't mind flying as long as I know ground is below me, Leonis replied. He took two running jumps and then took flight, buzzing off to the west.

Rathon sat down and sighed with relief. He had made it to Alalea. He was free from Galbatorix. Then his heart began to sink as he contemplated facing his brother and everyone from his old life. How he had wronged them.

A stick snapped in the jungles behind him. He stood and held out both hands, ready to use his energy to defend himself. Nothing moved. He had begun to think it had been an animal when he felt a surge of energy racing towards him. He barely had enough to time to make a wall with his own to stop it. Men ran out of the forest, shouting at each other in a foreign language. They each held a rod of iridescent blue.

Rathon did not think. He sent focused beams of energy at the men, either knocking them unconscious or immobilizing them. Leonis, he called.

On my way.

Then one of the men shouted a long word over the others. The men stopped. As one they raised their rods and struck the ground with them. Rathon blanched as a force of energy stronger than anything he had felt before pushed down on him. He turned his entire attention on it, trying to divert or abate it, but to no avail. It was like a bolder was being dropped on him. He heard someone say in his tongue, "Finish him."

His mind snapped. I will not die after escaping the ocean! He tapped into a reserve of knowledge and opened his palms outward. Wind burst out in every direction, with him as its center. A dark blue light erupted from his core. Gritting his teeth with effort and concentration, he weaved the energy in his body out the tips of his fingers and toes, his arms and legs, his head, his stomach and his chest, keeping the force, quantity and rate that expanded them perfectly proportionally between those sources. A dome of dark blue energy formed around him, stretching up and out until it reached five yards. As it touched any object, but for the ground at his feet, the object was ripped apart. Rocks were ground into sand; insects wiped from existence. Gasps came from around him and the weight lessened. With that, he shoved it aside and stood, the energy still flowing around him. He examined the men around him. They knew of what he was doing, somehow. Then he took a strong stance and extended his arms outward, his eyes closed for concentration. And there he held the pulse, confident that he could wait the men out until Leonis arrived.

That should keep them at bay until Leonis gets here and then woe to them.

A small figure detached itself from the forest. With his energy out on such full display he felt every distortion of the air around him. He opened his eyes and looked to it; for it felt far different than any of the men. It was a woman who looked in the prime of her youth. She walked with a wooden staff that adorned a sapphire tip. Her face was decorated with jewels and gems that were tied to strings of gold. Her eyes were as silvery white as the clouds that floated above. All of the men knelt to her. She ignored them and strode towards Rathon. She stopped at the edge of the barrier.

"Try it," he said in a daring voice. "Your body will rip to shreds the moment you touch it."

She looked at him with eyes that comprehended, yet would not respond. She raised her hand and walked through the dome. His heart skipped a beat. That's not possible, he thought. No one could touch a pulse, not even the person who had activated it. She strode towards him. He couldn't move; he felt paralyzed by her eyes. She stopped in front of him and spoke in a language that was foreign to him but he understood every word. "You have abused this art, Rathon. Yet your prowess with it allows for it. I have never seen such a thing." She reached forward and placed the tip of her staff on his forehead. "Until such time as I ordain that you pose no threat, I revoke your power." The dome collapsed. Not withdrew to him, as it should have. It simply collapsed.

Rathon woke in a dark room. A single torch was lit in the far corner. At the table beside it sat the woman. He jerked up and fumbled for the knife on his leg. To his amazement, it was still there.

"Be at peace," she said. "I mean you no harm."

He glared at her. "Your men attacked me, unprovoked. If their intent was good they did a poor job in showing it!"

"You were different than those who came before you," she said. "The others that flew on the backs of dragons were weaker. They did not expect you."

"And so they seek to crush me?" he said, drawing the knife and standing, raising it at her.

"You possess a power that you should not. When you used it, they decided not to kill you. Rather, they sought to incapacitate you for fear of their own safety."

He glared down at her. "Defending yourself by attacking your enemy is not a decision made by soldiers, but a command made by a clear headed leader."

She raised an eyebrow. "You sound more like Zodion than either Aesire or Eragon." His fortitude faltered at the mention of his father and master. "But as the fact remains, you are incorrect. That choice was not an order. You have the power to change the world around you with the energy of your limbs, something that was not passed down to the fathers of Alagaesia. They were given Magic, but of that you have none. How then, do you possess it?"

She's talking about my energy manipulation, he realized. "It was just something I was born with," he said.

She shook her head. "A deformity, a talent for the sword, an unnatural temper. These are things that you are simply born with. But the power of Mana is a gift, given to but few and you not among that number. You are either given it, or born from a line that has it."

"Then perhaps he was," said a clear voice from outside.

The woman scowled at the flap of cloth that served as a door. "I don't care who you are; I was very clear when I said to leave me be. Malik, explain yourself."

A long pause followed. Then another man said, "Well…ma'am….I thought you would want me to let him pass."

The woman's eyes darkened. "Was I not clear enough in my instructions? Who breaches my orders with such obstinate over confidence to think he can demand an audience when I have specifically ordered to be left alone?"

Another long silence came. The woman stood and strode towards the door. Just before she touched the fabric, a man said, "It's the Black Dragon, ma'am."

The woman froze, her eyes struck with shock. She stood there for a moment, still as a statue. Then she took a step back and in a voice that belied doubt, she said, "Grant him entrance."

The door flap was pushed aside and Calibor, dressed in a flowing white robe walked in. The light from outside made him shine like the sun until the flap was released. Calibor's eyes, white as snow went around the room. His hair was cut and fresh, his clothes shining with their cleanliness. His sword was slung on his back. His eyes rested on the woman and he smiled.

They looked at each other for almost a minute, Calibor with eyes of affection, the woman with eyes of astonishment. At last Calibor raised his arms out and said, "Are you not going to welcome me?"

The woman let loose a cry of joy and leapt into Calibor's arms, forsaking her staff. Tears flowed from her eyes as she hugged him fiercely. She cried out of what seemed to be happiness, for she smiled and laughed the whole while. Calibor ran his hand down her hair as she cried against his shoulders. For a brief moment Calibor looked up at Rathon and he mouthed the words, "Well done."

Finally, as her tears began to lessen Calibor took the woman's face from his shoulder and they looked into each other's eyes. And Rathon thought that, not even between his parents or Aesire and Hola, had he ever seen such a genuine expression of love. The woman placed a hand on Calibor's right check.

"My eyes see you," she said. "But I can hardly believe you stand before me."

Calibor took her hand and kissed the palm. "Whether I stand here today or in different world a thousand years ago, I shall always be at your side, Kaealla."

Kaealla, as apparently was her name, took her hand and stood up on her toes and kissed Calibor. She returned to her feet after a moment and said, "How long has it been?"

"A minute? An hour? Five thousand, four hundred, thirty three years, seven months and eleven days. Who knows?" She smiled and turned to Rathon as Calibor did.

"Rathon," he said. "Please, lower your weapon. You stand among friends." Rathon lowered his knife. Calibor raised a hand to Kaealla. "May I introduce to you Kaealla De'Suitevar Kasteliia? She is the leader of the men who attacked you."

Kaealla dipped into a curtsey. She raised a hand out to him. "Please forgive me. I was not aware that you were with Kayalder." She closed her eyes. "I return to you your powers." Rathon tightened his grip as he felt energy rush through him. He looked down at the bed he had been in and flicked a finger. The cloth blanket shifted.

"Thank you," he said, dipping into a bow.

Calibor looked down at Kaealla. "Do you have more questions for him, or is he free to leave? I suspect he wishes to return to his old family and friends."

"I had a few more questions, if we would be willing to stay and answer them. However, if you protect him under your wing, he is free to come and go as he sees fit."

They both looked at Rathon. Despite himself, he was curious as well and he felt much more secure with his power restored. He waved a hand and sat on the bed. "Ask your questions," he said. "I've waited ten years. I can wait a few more minutes."

"Thank you," she said, dipping into another curtsey.

"But if I may," he said. "I have a question I would enjoy an answer to first."

"Of course," she replied.

"How is it you were able to steal away my power and return it at your discretion?"

Calibor cast a cautionary glance at him before looking down to Kaealla. "It's fine," she said. "It's an apt and understandable question."

"Are you sure? I know how it hurts you, no matter how much you try and hide it."

"More than sure," she said. "It's necessary that he know."

"At your hand let it be done, that my hands might be clean of it," Calibor said and returned his gaze to Rathon.

Kaealla came and stood beside the bed. "Before I answer this question of yours, Rathon, you must know this. What I tell you will inevitably raise question and I will happily answer them. But after this answer you must answer my questions first. Do you accept?"

He dipped his head. "I do."

Kaealla nodded and took a breath, as though she were preparing to dive into a cold lake. "My power, or rather my ability, to take away what you call your energy manipulation stems from the fact that I was the one who created it; created the entire art that is Mana: energy manipulation. Furthermore, it is pertinent that you know it was by my hand Magic entered the world as well."

So, another short chapter, huh? Well, in my defense this was sort of the ground work for next chapter; wherein I plan on dropping an atomic bomb (or probably several) of a surprise that's been in the pipes for a couple of months.

In the words of our most, beloved, honorable and successful President Barack Hussein Obama: Look and let me be clear….

I didn't actually have a follow up on that one; I just wanted to bring up the fact that he probably uses that phrase more than I use the word spirits. And to all those who are wondering; yeah, four years ago if I had had the power to vote I probably would have voted for Obama. This time around, when I actually have that ability…gonna cast my vote a little more responsibly.