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Hi guys! I'm back! I wanted to upload this earlier, but Typhoon Hagupit/Ruby hit us and I had no Internet connection for anything longer than a few minutes.

Chapter 3: From the Ground Up

Away from the Burning Plains, the Varden's camp seemed a brighter, better place. While more dwarves were still moving out toward the Beor Mountains, enough still stayed to make sure that the Varden was not lacking in manpower. He was on his way to meet with Jeod, who turned out to be the young scholar who discovered the hidden cache of dragon eggs years ago. Their lunch the previous day turned into an offer to keep each other company and learn about each other's races. Jeod was eternally curious, interested in gathering more information about anything and everything in the world. Vanir needed to know more about humans.

He kept his back straight, nodding awkwardly to the greetings of the few humans and dwarves who went near him. He did not know how to respond. Above him, Diamanda's pearly scales gleamed as she circled the camp.

Therein lies the greatest of your problems, the white dragon scolded. You think to much. You must feel and experience. Sometimes, our hearts are better judges than our minds.

Are you teaching me how it truly is to be an elf now? Vanir felt a slight smile touch his lips.

Of course not. I am teaching you how to be a Rider. You are not human, nor an elf. Diamanda's amusement seeped through their link, like liquid tickling his mind. Your order has sworn to be of all races but not one of them. So you must learn not how to truly be an elf, but a great Rider.

Very well then, partner of my heart and mind. Show me the way to become what you want me to be.

He eventually found himself standing in front of Jeod's tent, which was right in the middle of the space taken up by the passengers of the Dragon Wing. Inside, the tall man was poring over a pile of scrolls and books. He looked up briefly as he noticed the elf watching him. "Vanir, do come in," he said pleasantly. "Forgive me, I am quite preoccupied at the moment. I've managed to salvage most of my valuable books and scrolls. We're searching for weaknesses in cities throughout the Empire, something that we can use to our advantage."

Vanir grabbed an unoccupied stool and sat down, carefully peering at some of the book. He recognized some of them as translated elven texts. "So you're looking everywhere, then? These don't look like textbooks."

"I'm willing to look everywhere I can. Most of these cities stood for hundreds of years, some far before humans arrived in Alagaesia. It is not really likely that I'd find anything, but we need to try." Jeod smiled. "These cities are so old, though, that it's impossible for them not to have hidden passageways. The problem is that they might have not survived into writing, and if they did, we might not have them."

Vanir carefully pulled a thick, dusty tome to him and frowned. "I believe you could use some help. There's too much to look for, and so little time."

With a sigh, Jeod peered at a scroll before pushing it away in favor of a slim book bound in leather. "I'd love to, but no one else has the knowledge or the time that I have." He shook his head and began leafing through the thick pages of his book.

"It's like building a house, I presume. Or even growing some plants. You have to work from the ground up, and an extra hand always helps." Vanir began to read a translated dwarf epic. This could also help him learn about different races. "I'm supposed to get acquainted with the Varden, but I still have plenty of time on my hands. I could help you anytime that I'm free."

Jeod's pale eyes widened. He rapidly shook his head. "Rider, I would not ask that of you! I would never dream of subjecting you to mundane tasks. I know you have many burdens on your shoulder!"

"But you are one of our people too. And your task is important. Too important. I am not being subjected to a mundane task. I am helping a friend, and I am learning about humans and dwarves."

The scholar bowed quickly. "Thank you, Rider. I shall be in your debt."

"No. It is I who owed you, for you are teaching me far more than what you think." Vanir smiled and immersed himself in the tome. He might not find something, but he would still learn. "Visiting the Beor Mountains would have been interesting, though. I wish I could have visited the dwarves' homeland."

"I assume you would, once the new dwarven king is crowned."

A moment of companionable silence passed. Vanir learned more about the first dwarven king, Korgan, and his hammer, Volund. If this was still the same hammer wielded by King Hrothgar and his pending successor, then it truly is quite interesting to note that Korgan taught Rhunon about smithing.

Jeod looked up from his book. "By the way, to let the people of Carvahall follow custom, and to cheer up our soldiers, Melikir is letting us celebrate Midsummer Night next week. It would really mean a lot to us if you and your friends would join."

Vanir smiled. "I would appreciate that. I don't think they would welcome me, though. I am not from their village."

"Oh, you haven't met them yet. Good people. Stubborn and headstrong, but good. You'll like them."

"If they're a lot like they Riders they've come up with, then they are interesting folk."

"Yes, I suppose they are," agreed Jeod. He turned a few pages idly. "Admittedly, humans are ephemeral beings, unlike elves, so you might find us less interesting."

"On the contrary, you are more interesting than my people. That is why being asked to stay here is also working out well for me."

The sky was an endless sea of clouds and flashes of bright sunlight. Nasuada watched Solaris weave through the air like a massive, jewel-bright bird, her shifting scales as bright as a miniature sun. Ahead was Askanir, the massive, regal dragon carrying Roran and Brom. Together, the two dragons were making their way to Surda.

Nasuada leaned back against her sturdy pack, eyes half-closed and savoring the warmth. We should do this more once the war is over, she mused. Just the two of us.

Of course. Solaris snapped at a passing hawk, which squawked and veered away. Though we are learning about what it is to be dragon and Rider, we are not experiencing all of it. Maybe once everything is over we could travel Alagaesia, see the cities.

But we must also finish our training and in turn, train the next Riders. Nasuada flicked away a stray lock of hair. But we should also travel. Traveling is good.

Nasuada smiled. Maybe we could document what we will learn, as reference for future Riders.

As day segued into night, they camped out in the lonely Surdan plains. The cool summer breeze ruffled Nasuada's hair as she watched Brom work on their dinner. Their former mentor eyed them with amusement. "I hope your stay in Ellesmera hasn't made you averse to meat," he said, dropping down dried chunks of beef into the cooking pot, followed by bits of vegetables and some salt. "We have about half a day's more of traveling ahead before we reach my Surdan base."

"What exactly are we going to do there?" Roran asked. He poked the fire with a long stick, his eyes seemingly alight with embers of their own. In the semi-darkness, he looked like a king. It suited him well. There were old tales that only those who had the blood of kings had violet eyes, and apparently Palancar Valley was where the first king of Alagaesia and his supporters were exiled in.

Brom regarded the two Riders with those ancient eyes of his. He wasn't as ancient as an elf, but he seemed to carry an aura of experience and knowledge that even Oromis and his daughters lacked. He uttered a few quick spells that protected them from potential eavesdroppers. "Before I left for my last mission for the Varden, I left behind all of my valuable books and scrolls in the house I owned in Surda, protected by magic."

Is it important for us to retrieve them now? Solaris asked.

"Why, yes. Right now, Jeod is hard at work in his research. We hope to find secret passageways into the major cities of the Empire, maybe also find other weaknesses we could breach."

"Well, that sounds reasonable enough," Nasuada said. "But we're pressed for time. Will Jeod find the information we seek before we start the next step of the campaign?"

Roran nodded, taking his eyes off the fire. "She's right. We're pressed for time."

Brom lit his pipe with a wave of his bony hand. "Melikir is trying to slow down our march to Feinster, if you haven't noticed. And I'm positive that Jeod will find something, even without these documents that I will be retrieving."

I hope for everyone's sake that you are right, mused Askanir, blowing a puff of smoke through his nostrils. We will need all of the advantage we could get.

Solaris grunted. That we do.

By the time that they were about to go to sleep and Roran decided to take first watch, Nasuada couldn't help but looking to the east. To the Beor Mountains. Murtagh would be there. She felt a quiet longing within her when she remembered the way he smiled.

"Pining for someone?" Brom asked.

Nasuada gave a little start as she was unloading some blankets from Solaris' saddle. She felt her dragon's amusement. For one with the training you've been through, and the senses of an elf, you should not be so easily startled, she scolded.

"Sorry," the Rider said, both to her dragon and to her mentor. As she should have, she opened her mind to her surroundings. "I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings."

Brom raised an eyebrow. "That is not like the Nasuada I taught," he noted. Apparently sensing Solaris' increasing amusement, nodded toward the dragon. "So am I correct? Are you pining for someone?"

Nasuada scowled. "Of course not."

"I have seen the way that my son looks at you."

"Your son?"

"So you mean none of them told you yet? I thought I had it quite clear that it was not a secret anymore. The twins and their younger sister are my children," Brom murmured. "I have seen how Murtagh looks at you, and how you look at him in return."

Nasuada felt herself turning red, and hoped that the darkness hid it. "It does not matter if I pine for him, then?"

Brom smiled. "I am not complaining."

Arya sat atop Firnen, the young dragon circling their camp. Darkness had fallen, and most people were beginning to settle down for the night. Sure that everything was peaceful, Arya opted not to turn in early like the other Riders left behind with the Varden. She wanted to spend some time with her dragon.

Finding time just to be with each other is getting more and more difficult,Firnen complained.

Arya nodded sadly. True. Once this war is over, I hope that you and I could ride the skies for days on end without anyone and anything coming between us.

How are you faring? So many things have happened since we returned.

I'm well enough to do what is needed. But we do need to complete our training. I hope our masters could help us fight fairly against the Forsworn.

I do not think there is anything like fair in life, little pointy-ears, noted Firnen. He tilted downward, flying lower and lower. Their short flight was about to end, it seemed. The emerald dragon was hungry. If life was fair, then there would be no hunter and prey. No kings and civilans. No different races.

A lot of things will be destroyed in this war. I hope we could help everyone rebuild not just their homes, but their lives.

It will be difficult. But I think it can be done.

Firnen landed at the edge of the camp, joining Luneria, Diamanda, and Sardonis who are all eager to go hunting. Luneria turned toward Arya. You looked troubled. If you need a fellow two-legs to talk, I believe that Katrina is not busy anymore.

Arya smiled. She loved the way that all the dragons accept the Riders as part of their little family. "Thank you."

She found Vanir heading toward their tent. The younger elf seemed deep in thought. He looked up, regarding his senior with those charcoal-hued eyes that looked so lost. He slowed down to let Arya catch up – something that he wouldn't have done before in Ellesmera. "Arya Drottningu," he murmured.

"Vanir-finiarel," Arya responded in kind. "Something is bothering you."

The younger Rider regarded her with that odd look in his face. "If we fight, getting innocents involved is inevitable. How will we stand it? Their blood will be on our hands."

Arya frowned. She realized that it was true. Some men would have been forced into conscription, while others were forced to swear oaths. "I don't know, Vanir. I don't know how we will be able to live with it. But we must endure. Many more will suffer and die if we let Galbatorix and his Forsworn live."

"I am afraid of what we might become."

"We have each other," Arya told her companion firmly. "We will always remind each other of who and what we are."

That seemed to quiet the younger elf's fears. Vanir nodded. "Thank you, Arya."

Arya smiled. "You are most welcome."

Though Eragon had grown to love Ellesmera and its more natural beauty, the wonders of Tronjheim will never cease to amaze him. The glittering jewels of the gate greeted the Riders and their dwarf companions after three hard days of journeying without stopping, simply sleeping on the dragons' saddles, as Hrothgar requested.

Now, they stood at the entrance where their journey to save the Empire began. Their journey as Riders may have started in Carvahall, but they have not accepted their true legacy until they have stepped into these halls. A sudden feeling of longing and nostalgia enveloped Eragon, making it hard to breathe.

"Ah, the mighty Tronjheim, eternally embraced by our father," Hrothgar said in that deep, wise voice of his. "Of the fourty-two kings who have ever ruled the dwarves, only the first and the greatest of them all decided to abdicate his throne. Not many would be pleased by my decision, but as my sons, I wish to tell you the truth. Change is happening in Alagaesia. A new age is about to dawn among the three races. My people have always believed that wisdom comes with age, but I believe that experience and knowledge brings forth wisdom better. Not all who have lived as I hold as much wisdom, and many younger men are wiser than I. I believe that the younger grimsborithn, which now includes Orik as I have abdicated, will do our race better in ushering in a new age."

"But you have done a wonderful job too," Eragon said. He would never forget the king's kindness, supporting the Riders and even adopting the twins as Orik's younger brothers. "You have been a great king."

Hrothgar stared at him with those granite eyes of his, "Thank you for your kind words. I may have done a great job, but I am too set in stone to lead the dwarves into a new age. We need someone who was born and raised after the Fall of the Riders, one who knows how to keep our race strong once this war ends."

Murtagh bowed his head. "I do not care about what Melikir thinks. We will support whatever choice our clan will make."

"It is all we could do to repay you for everything you have done for us," added Eragon.

The dwarven king smiled. "It is all I could ever ask from you."

I just had to do another quiet chapter. Next would be the Midsummer's Night celebration, and a Rider pair will get to kiss! Finally. So who do you think it is?

Though I look pop/punk/alternative rock the most, I am currently crazy for Sleeping at Last, and I actually used one of their song titles for this chapter's title...

Read and review, as always!