Eragon poured cold water over his head. He shivered as the crystal drops ran down his spine. Even the shock of the frigid water wasn't enough to dull the pain in his heart. He pulled his shirt over his head, and plopped down on the ground next to Saphira. She hummed and nuzzled his hair, a puff of hot breath accompanying her affection. He rested his head against her neck.

"Why, Saphira?" He said aloud instead of in their minds. "Why do I hurt this badly? We've been gone from Alagaësia for almost two years. I thought the pain would dull with time, but it seems to have grown all the more. My heart yearns for everyone... For her."

Saphira pondered for a moment before replying. You know what they say: 'Absence makes the heart grow fonder' and yet, I would have thought that you would not feel so strongly after this long.

Saphira felt his grief as he spoke. "She won't let me skry her." He let the sentence fade out, his voice breaking.

Saphira enveloped him with her wing. I'm sorry, Little One. Maybe she does it to protect her heart as well.

He shrugged. "Maybe... I don't know."

Blödhgarm approached them, his musk preceding him. He bowed and formally greeted Eragon. It still bothered Eragon that Blödhgarm didn't consider him an equal. Yes, Blödhgarm was not a Rider, but he had been Eragon's advisor, and Eragon considered him a true friend, but Eragon completed the greeting nonetheless.

"Argetlam, the Younglings await your instruction in the courtyard."

Eragon stood and brushed the soil off of his breeches. "We're on our way."

Blödhgarm bowed and started back towards the complex. Eragon climbed onto Saphira's back and tied his legs into the saddle straps.

Saphira heaved herself off the ground, and they flew towards the courtyard.