This is the big chapter! If you don't like this one, well then I guess my story sucks!

(Check out the AN at the bottom for a special fan contest!)


For what seemed to be the one hundredth time since he had gotten out of bed that morning, Eragon was in a state of shock.

After leaving Saphira, Blodhgarm, the other elves, and his own dead body in the clearing, Eragon had walked through the forest, looking for the mysterious music. Although it had sounded very close, Eragon had walked for half an hour until he happened upon another clearing. It lay in the shadow of a small mountain, which just so happened to be the nesting place of the wild dragons. Just as he entered the clearing, Eragon glanced up and saw the shape of a medium sized dragon preparing to fly off the cliff at the top.

But what shocked him was not above him, but rather in front of him, in the middle of the glade. There was planted a large oak tree, and leaned up against the tree was a man.

The man was like no one Eragon had ever seen. Even sitting down, Eragon could tell he was short. He had brown skin, that looked wrinkled and thick, almost like he was made of tanned leather. He had a bald head, but a thick, white, long beard that reached mid chest. He was shirtless, but wearing a pair of loose white pants. His feet were bare with thick callouses, showing he was bare footed often. In his hands was a small instrument with four strings.

As Eragon entered the glade, the man was sitting with his eyes closed, gently strumming the instrument. He paused for a moment, as if trying to listen to a far away noise, and then continued to strum.

Eragon cautiously approached, trying to decide what to say. Should I ask him who he is? Maybe he knows what is going on here. What is that bizarre instrument called? What if he doesn't even know my name? Should I introduce myself?

The old man chuckled, set the instrument by his side, and opened his eyes to see Eragon. "I certainly know who you are Eragon. And, in response to your other question, this instrument here is called the ukulele. It is a remarkable instrument, because it always seems to sound good, even when I mess up. Here, listen."

And at that, the man picked up the instrument, the ukulele, and started strumming. After a few measures he started to hum. The song was simple, but it captivated Eragon. He found himself swaying along, despite his confusion and desire for answers. Then the man started to sing.

Somewhere over the rainbow

Way up high

And the dreams that you dreamed of

Once in a lullaby

Somewhere over the rainbow

Blue birds fly

And the dreams that you dreamed of

Dreams really do come true ooh oh

Someday I'll wish upon a star

Wake up where the clouds are far behind me

Where trouble melts like lemon drops

High above the chimney top

That's where you'll find me

Oh, somewhere over the rainbow bluebirds fly

And the dream that you dare to,

Oh why, oh why can't I?

When the song ended, Eragon was surprised to find himself with his eyes closed, swinging back and forth. He opened his eyes to see the man smiling at him.

"Sit down young man."

Eragon complied, matching the old man's cross-legged posture. They stared at each other for a few seconds before Eragon dared to speak.

"Who are you?"

"Why that's an awfully philosophical question. I assume you want to know my name?" Eragon nodded. "Well that too is a complicated question. I have been called many different things. What you call me mostly depends on who you are."

"What does that mean? Your name is a part of you, not me. It doesn't matter who I am."

"Not necessarily. Think of Saphira. Do the deer that she hunts call her Brightscales? Do you call her murderer and beast? Do you think the common townspeople call her partner of my heart and mind? Names depend just as much on who is using them as who they belong to."

Eragon frowned. He had thought it was a basic question, but somehow he had just ended up more confused. "Alright then, what is going on here? Why is everything frozen?"

"You guessed correctly earlier. Time is frozen. I find that this is the best way to introduce myself and the situation to people."

"Wait wait wait. You've done this before? You can just freeze time? Who are you?"

The man sighed. "We'll get to that, all in due time. I will make an arrangement with you. Since I know you are a curious man, I will answer any question of yours, after you answer a question of mine."

"Why should I? I don't even know who you are, but you seem to know everything about me!" Eragon was getting more and more frustrated. He just wanted a straight answer. He had just died for god's sake!

The man's face softened. "I know this is a tumultuous time for you. But you must believe me when I say that this … um … lets call it an experience, is for you, not me. I want nothing but the best for you. Please trust me."

Eragon reluctantly quelled his anger, and used one of the calming breathing techniques Oromis had taught him so long ago. Even though he lacked lungs currently, it still seemed to calm him.

"Alright, I guess I have no choice. Go ahead and ask a question."

The man seemed to brighten, and clapped his hands. "Good! Let's get started. My first question is: Are you comfortable? Can I get you anything?"

Eragon paused. He hadn't thought about his physical state since awakening. He realized he was hungry, despite being dead. "I am hungry. Do you have any food?'

"That's an excellent first question!" exclaimed the man. He waved his hand in the air and bread, cheese, wine, and assorted fruits appeared in the air and gently floated down to the earth.

"That wasn't my questi- … Oh whatever." said Eragon. The food would make him feel better, he hoped.

"Have some food."

Eragon reached for the bread and butter. Despite his annoyance, he did genuinely enjoy the food. It felt nice to eat something. Just the action of putting it in his mouth, chewing, and swallowing was comforting. As he was munching on an apple, a realization came to him.

"Wait a minute! You asked two questions at the start. You said 'Are you comfortable? Can I get you anything?' I should get another question!"

The man seemed to giggle. "Very good! Almost no one picks up on that." He reached for a grape and popped it in his mouth. "Go ahead and ask a question."

Eragon thought for a minute. He had to be careful with what he said around this … this … clown. Ha! he thought. I like that name for him. Just as he had that thought, the old man chuckled.

"Wait," said Eragon, "can you hear my thoughts? I don't feel you in my mind."

"Yes, in fact I can hear your thoughts. It's one of my many abilities of mine, along with the conjuring of the food and freezing time. As to me being in your mind, it is not so much a question of me being in your head, but rather being a part of your thoughts."

Eragon opened his mouth, once again more confused that he was before. But before he could say anything, the man interjected. "All will be explained in time. You are so close to the right question which will make all very clear. In the meantime, it is my turn. Are you angry about your death?"

Once again, the question made Eragon pause to think. "I would not call it anger. Rather unsettled, and of course I am confused now. I don't know who stabbed me, so that too, is confusing. But I think everything will be alright. The dragons will return and the Riders are in good hands, with the eldunari. So no, not angry."

The man seemed happy again. "That's good! Most people are remarkably angry when we talk, so the fact that you are past that already will mean we make much faster progress. Go ahead and ask your question."

Eragon sat for several minutes. He had to get real information this time, not more meaningless nonsense. Then again, if he was dead, then theoretically he had all the time in the world. But wait, if he was dead, shouldn't he be meeting Guntera, or falling into the Void?

At that thought Eragon froze. Very hesitantly, he asked, "Are you God?"

And the old man smiled.


Hope you guys liked it! If you like this, then don't worry, it's gonna get even more weird and philosophical.

And now, a special fan contest. In the first chapter (the prologue) you may have realized I named the city of Riders 'Du Fell Hvitr.' I'm quite proud of this name, because I didn't just pull it from the back of one of the Inheritance Cycle books, but it still means something. If anyone can tell me what Du Fell Hvitr means, via PM or review, they will get to name a very special character! So get searching!

As always, I welcome constructive criticism or feedback of any kind!