Chapter 2

Eragon's POV

"We will finish our day with the same task as always. Work as a team and you might obtain your goal. Grab this eagle feather from me by any means necessary," Eragon instructed as he faced his students, twirling the feather in his outstretched hand.

There were four students standing in front of him, one from each race. Hanvar, of the dwarves, member of Dûrgrimst Ingeitum, who was a rash, short-tempered man. Next to Hanvar stood Merrick, a tall, lean elf who was soft-spoken, yet a fearsome warrior with a sword. Nearest to Eragon stood a fierce Kull named Tarrock. He held a two-handed sword as if it weighed nothing, and his strength was only second to the elves. Lastly, a human girl stood towards the back of the group, hands poised in preparation for the use of magic. A mere sixteen years of age, Eragon's niece Ismira was the newest rider to venture to the island of Tamriel. A bow hung from the petite girls back, and her expertise in long ranged battle, whether through the use of magic and arrows, was unmatched by the rest of the group.

Eragon stood on the sandy shore of the beach, focusing on his surroundings as well as his apprentices in front of him. Bending his knees slightly, his students tensed as he held his hands in a fighting position, Brisingr had yet to be drawn. His students fidgeted nervously, unsure of how to defeat their master.

"Begin." As Eragon spoke that word, Hanvar and Tarrock unleashed a war cry, and charged him as quickly as possible. Tarrock ran past Hanvar and swung his sword with all his strength horizontally, but his sword whistled through empty air as Eragon dropped down beneath the blade, kicking the Kull's legs out from underneath him, sending him careening onto the sand. Hanvar was then closing in, but was soon halted by Eragon as he spun up from the ground, tossing a handful of sand into the dwarf's eyes, blinding him momentarily as Eragon gripped his wrist, causing the dwarf to drop his sword onto the ground.

Bounding two steps backwards, Eragon faced all four of his students again as the two stood back up and rejoined the group, taking up defensive stances. He saw them glance at Ismira as she drew her bow, and Eragon sent out strong mental probes, seeing that they were communicating through their minds. He saw the three students recoil in pain, while Merrick stood stock still, struggling to hold his mental barriers up, but his struggle proved to be worthwhile as Eragon pulled out as two deafening roars were heard from over the water. Eragon turned and spotted two glimmering shapes, a blazing red and an emerald green, flying towards them. He turned back to the group and saw the three males distracted by the newcomers, but did not see Ismira with them. His elven senses allowed him to hear the release of twine as he turned to see the young rider firing an arrow straight towards Eragon's hand which held the feather.

"Jierda!" Eragon shouted and the wooden shaft harmlessly snapped in midair. He turned to the three males, who still seemed to be distracted by the nearing dragons.

Pointing a finger towards the sand beneath their feet, Eragon yelled, "Brisingr!" The sand slowly began to burn and the students jumped, only to realize that they the sand was slowly turning to glass. The group all dove back and reformed as Eragon halted his stream of magic. Murtagh and Arya were slowly beginning to land, aiming towards where Blödhgarm and Dorian stood to the side, watching the students train with their master.

"Pay attention! We stop when you have obtained the feather, or I have decided we have ended!" Eragon scolded as the two dragons landed heavily on the ground. Saphira and her pupils were flying towards the beach and Saphira roared in greeting, dropping towards the two dragons.

Eragon looked to his four students and waited for their next attempt. As the three males charged with their swords drawn, Ismira began to chant in the Ancient Language, and Eragon could feel the sand beneath his feet attempting to wrap around his legs. Skipping back a few steps to release himself from the sand, he dodged Hanvar's strike with his sword and spun to meet Tarrock as he swung straight down towards Eragon's skull who simply spun around his side, grabbing the Kull's tunic and using his elven strength to throw him back down to the sandy shore once more. Merrick approached, stabbing his sword straight towards Eragon who dove past the blade, gripping the hilt and forcing it into the elf's stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He ripped the sword from his hands as he turned around and swung with all his might towards Hanvar's sword, which was sent spinning until getting stuck in the sand a good distance away. Leaving Hanvar to tend to his damaged hands, he dropped the sword he was holding and spun to find Ismira dashing towards him, a small hunting knife in her hands. She swung the dagger towards him, but he simply weaved back and forth, dodging her futile attempts.

"Sköliar lam!" Warding his hands, Eragon caught the small knife between his palms, wrenching it free of her grip as she cowered back.

"That's enough for tonight!" Eragon announced to the group. Handing the blade back to her, he smiled down at her and said, "Great job as always Ismira. Continue your studies in the ancient language and soon, you may be able to trap me."

"Thank you, ebithril," she spoke breathlessly, face flushed from the exertion of the battle. She turned and went to stand by Merrick, who seemed to be her favorite companion on their island.

"As fierce of warriors as you are, you are still much to rash and quick-tempered in your decisions. Slow down the fight and watch your enemy, learn his strengths and weaknesses, and then attack. Continue to work as a team as you did in the end, and soon you may best me," he spoke encouragingly to his apprentices. "Be weary of your surroundings as they can be your downfall just as they can be used to your benefit."

"Yes ebithril," they all spoke in unison, sheathing their weapons and then taking long draughts of water from their wineskins. Eragon turned to see Murtagh and Arya still watching him teach his students.

"Riders, I expect you to treat our visitors with the respect they deserve," Eragon spoke to his students. When Eragon first sent an egg over to be hatched, it had been decided by him and Arya that the new riders first year of training would be spent with her in Du Weldenvarden , being trained to fight as well as basic aerial moves until they would be sent overseas to finish their trainings with Eragon and his elven guards. After five years of being in solitude, Murtagh and Thorn emerged from the woodlands, having come to terms with their grievances. They had ventured to the land of the riders twice a year for a month's length, helping Eragon with his teaching as well as studying the scrolls located in Eragon's library. The rest of the year, he had spent as Nasauda's bodyguard, although he teased Murtagh that there was most likely more to it.

"You all have the day off tomorrow. Do as you please, but stay out of trouble," Eragon told them sternly, before dismissing them for the night, leaving Eragon alone with Murtagh and Arya. Eragon finally turned and took in the visitors that were in his presence.

"Welcome to the land of the Riders," Eragon welcomed them, inclining his head to Murtagh, before turning to Arya and beginning the traditional Elvin greeting. She replied in turn, and Eragon finished with the last line, never taking his eyes off her.

Murtagh cleared his throat before saying, "I plan on retiring to my room for the night. I assume you can show Arya to her living quarters." Eragon nodded and Murtagh turned, climbing on to Thorn before the large dragon took off towards the Great Hall.

"Firnen and I are venturing into the woods for a short time. We will be back within the hour to take you to your quarters," Saphira projected to Eragon and Arya, before her powerful wings buffeted the sand with air, and she took off into the night sky with the emerald dragon close on her trail.

He turned back to Arya as she continued to stare at him quizzically, as if trying to figure out who he was. Trying to break the silence, he asked, "Would you like to take a walk?" She nodded, and he turned and walked along the shore, taking in the night sky as Arya began to follow him, slowly catching up till she walked by his side. He looked at her out of the corner of her and his heart clenched. She wore the same leathers that she donned during their times at war together, Támerlein swung from her hip as she walked, and she was missing the crown that had perched on top of her head when he would communicate with her through scrying. He slowed to a stop and took a seat on the sandy beach, signalling for her to sit next to him.

"How is Ellesméra faring?" Eragon questioned.

"All is well. Nasuada has honored her treaties with the elves and the people of the Broddring Kingdom. How do you fare?" She questioned.

"Tamriel is a great island. The riders are beginning to strengthen greatly and they have learned much throughout the years," he replied.

"No Eragon. I asked how you were, not the riders," she questioned, concern in her eyes. He was taken aback, not used to this side of Arya before. He stared at her, choosing his words carefully.

"It has taken time for me to adjust, but I have grown to this position and it is my home now. It is my duty to protect the people of Alagaësia, and if I must do so by staying here and training the riders, then I must," he stated, before turning away and glanced off out into the horizon, watching the sunset. She glanced at him before returning her face to the stoic mask he was used to her having.

"You have matured into a great leader, even more so than you were before," she stated, staring at him. He nodded at her in thanks, not a flicker of emotion appearing in his face.

"Where is your crown?" He questioned, trying to change the topic at hand.

"Here in Tamriel I am a Rider, not a queen. It lays in my quarters in Ellesméra," she explained, waving her hand as if it was of insignificance.

"So I assume this means you still refuse to give up the crown for the riders?" he asked her. She stiffened, not expecting him to be so straightforward about it.

"Eragon, this is the first time we have seen each other in the past fifteen years. You know the answer, so do not sour it over a useless endeavor you know the answer to," she stated coldly, refusing to budge on the topic.

"I thought it was agreed that riders could not be monarchs, Arya," he continued persistently, not fazed by the glare she gave him. He seemed to always be able to bring out some sort of emotion in her, good or bad. Her stoic face was washed away by the anger she had towards him.

"Do not speak of that which you do not know Eragon! I spent the greater portion of my life fighting the tyranny of Galbatorix and I will not become what he was!" She rose in her anger beginning to pace back and forth in her anger. He looked at her softly, pity in his eyes, which only angered her more.

"I did not mean offence are you, I am sorry if my words were misinterpreted. I just do not want your powers to be abused by the peopl-" and the next thing he knew, he was somersaulting backwards to his feet as Arya drew her emerald sword, swinging it towards where he was moments before. She continued to swing at him but was unable to touch him as he dodged left and right, a look of worry for her still on his face which only angered her more.

"I am not one of your weak human women that need to be protected Eragon! Elves do not run from their problems like humans do!" She continued on, unrelenting in her jabs at him with her sword, and with her words, face red with emotion. "We are not cowards! You ran fifteen years ago when we needed you Eragon! You are just like the rest of your race, a coward!" And before she knew it, Eragon was behind her, his right hand gripping her wrist keeping her sword pointed to the ground. His left hand was gripping his hunting knife he carried with him all of his years, and it was hovering an inch from her throat. She could feel his close proximity and she felt vulnerable with his arms surrounding her. She didn't understand how in mere seconds, he was suddenly behind her, easily able to win this fight. How did such a young and reckless farm boy turn in to this wise and powerful man behind her? He was a fraction of her age! She could feel his hot breath on her ear as he spoke to her.

"I apologize for any offence I have caused you. Human or elf, I still care for your well being and do not want harm to befall you as you are my friend. It is not my right to be so forthcoming with you about a people I am not from," he spoke softly into her ear, causing her to lightly shudder, but she stiffened under his next, gruff, tone of voice. "But do not for a second believe I ran away for my selfish needs. I left behind everything I have ever loved to uphold a task normally held by a man centuries old, and I did this at the age of seventeen. I gave up my last years of youth and lost the majority of my family for a cause that seeked to manipulate our powers after we gave everything for their cause. So I made the decision, along with the consent of the Eldunarí to find them a home away from the manipulative people seeking power and defense, and so we left all the people I cared about: Roran, Katrina, Nasuada, Orik, and you, Arya. I did not run from my fears, but for my duty. It was not I who ran on the shore fifteen years ago." His words caused her to remember that day where she had Fírnen carry her from the ship when she had to face the emotions she feared. He sheathed the knife, but kept his grip firm on her hand while he spoke, "I apologize that our first meeting in over a decade has come to this Arya Dröttning, and I hope this does not effect your visit to our island. I shall have a servant waiting for your return to show you to your living quarters. Stay safe and rest well. Wiol pömnuria ilian." For my happiness.

With that, Eragon turned and strode away as Saphira turned and landed on the beach, followed by Fírnen. Leaping onto Saphira, Eragon left Arya who yet to move from her position, sword still in hand. Fírnen nuzzled her softly, coaxing her to open up to him. She finally leapt atop Fírnen's saddled back and eventually found her room, not even stripping from her clothes she traveled in before dropping onto her bed for an unrestful night.