Two horses, a brown and a white, galloped through the forest. Two men sat on their backs, guiding them through the terrain. Atop the brown horse was a young man, no older than sixteen. He had intense brown eyes and dirty-blonde, almost brown, hair that seemed rather unkept. His clothes were mainly composed of a white long sleeve underneath a leather vest and a pair of baggy pants that reached past his boots, worn from travel.

Glanced over at his companion next to him. The man was apparently older than he was, at least in his mid-thirties. His hair was streaked with gray and a beard was forming around his mouth. He was an odd-looking fellow for his appearance. Despite his worn-out clothes and tattered robe, he was full of energy even though he was always calm. The younger man looked away and up towards the sky. A dark blue blur passed through the tree tops for a second before moving out of sight.

"She grows stronger each day, Eragon. Not to mention larger."

Eragon looked over at his friend. It had been silent since they had left Carvahall. He looked away towards the horizon. A blue-green line stretched out between the mountains. It was the Anora River that connected to the ocean in the far North. They had been traveling for a few weeks and Eragon had never gone out of Carvahall, besides hunting in the Spine. He looked up as a large blue dragon glided down into a clearing not far from them. He marveled at her deep-blue scales. They shone in the sun like a bed of sapphires. A smile formed on Eragon's face.

"Yeah, she's is getting bigger. Brom, when do you think I'll be ready to ride her. Properly."

"When the time comes, Eragon. Calm yourself. If you rush, we might be seen by someone who we do not want to be seen by," the older man, Brom, smirked at him.

Eragon nodded his head. He remembered that his uncle was killed by these monsters called the Ra'zac. They had been sent by Galbatorix in search of the egg that was stolen from him. Eragon grimaced at the thought. Galbatorix was a Dragon Rider himself, but he betrayed the original Riders. He had formed a group of Riders, the Forsworn, and killed off his enemy Riders. Over time, the Forsworn died off, leaving Galbatorix as the last Dragon Rider in all of Alagaesia. Several dragon eggs were also stolen during the war and were kept in the king's chamber in Uru'baen.

Brom stopped his horse in the clearing next to Eragon's dragon. Motioning for Eragon, he got off and went to make camp. Eragon followed him and got down as well.

"We shall make camp here tonight. Tomorrow, we shall go into Therinsford for supplies."

Eragon nodded in return ans walked over to his dragon, who was now laying down on the ground. He patted her snout and scaley neck. She was young, yet her head was nearly the size of his torso. You should sleep well tonight, Eragon. I know we will. Her voice echoed through Eragon's head. Yeah, but tomorrow you'll have to wait for us while Brom and I go into town. You don't mind. Do you, Saphira? Saphira chuckled. Her sapphire eyes gleamed with the setting sun. So long as you stay out of trouble, little one. Now, I will go look for something to eat.

Nodding in agreement, Eragon went over to Brom and helped build the fire. They settled down and began dinner with the leftover scraps of meat that was in their pouches. It was going to be stew for dinner, not that Eragon minded.

The stew was hot but Eragon savored the taste. Saphira came back a few minutes later with a large buck in her jaws. She settled down at the edge of camp and began to eat. Saphira had hatched for him about two months ago and she was already as big as the farm house back at Carvahall.

Eragon looked down at his right hand. A faint silver oval had appeared on his hand the night Saphira hatched. It had itched continuously, but the feeling died off over the days. The mark, from what Brom had told him, was the symbol of a Dragon Rider. Eragon had to wear gloves to cover his hands whenever he and Brom had to go into town so that no one would recognize him. He was a Dragon Rider, and if Galbatorix was to find out he would either kill them or force Eragon to serve him. The latter of which was definitely not an option for Eragon.

"Therinsford, what is it like,Brom?"

Brom stopped eating and looked over at the young Rider.

"We won't know until we get there," Brom looked at Saphira. "We might even be able to get you a saddle for Saphira. The sooner we get that, the sooner you'll be able to ride."

Eragon finished his soup and put the bowl away into his bag. He crawled to Saphira to settle down and go to sleep. I have a feeling tomorrow will be interesting, Saphira thought to him. Eragon shrugged. It's just like any other day. Good night, Saphira. Saphira's head laid on the ground next to Eragon, closing her cat-like eyes. Good night, little one.