They set out for Ellesméra around midmorning the next day. They had wanted to start out early, but a few complications arose.

First, Miles was extremely reluctant to have all three of them fly all the way to Ellesméra, as it was not likely they'd stop at any other elvish cities, and she was not yet sure how Thaddeus would fare in flight. Eragon had taken a look at his wounds – he'd still not yet awoken – and assured her that he would be fine, but she wasn't sure, and therefore did not want to risk it. Not to mention the freezing temperatures at the heights which such distance flying was optimal. Who had ever heard of someone healing well in cold temperatures? Much better, she concluded, to keep them all on the ground for the time being.

Second of all, once they'd finally decided to fly – Miles's objections were overridden by her inability to argue with three dragons and the oldest Rider in Alagaësia – Eragon contacted the elvish Queen Arya, using the reflection of water in a small depression in the soil, and proceeded to converse with her for well over an hour.

Of course, the specifics of their conversation were not clear to Miles, as he left the clearing to speak with the Queen; leaving her feeling smaller, more disgruntled and more thick-headed than she felt in a long while. She was one of exactly five Dragon Riders left in Alagaësia, and that didn't even allow her to know what she was flying into when they flew across Du Weldenvarden, because clumsy little Miles would just obviously trip up anything and everything.

She was sulking, plainly put; and she knew it too. Not that it was going to stop her.

You're doing the misbehaved kitten thing again, Eværín informed her, sitting beside her passively, a makeshift saddle on his back with the few things they'd been able to scavenge from the wreckage – Saphira bore a similar saddle, each of them with only leg straps and enough padding to ensure that no damage would come to their Riders. Thaddeus was the one in the only actual saddle available; Miles had insisted they strap him in properly, at the very least. She also insisted that wards be cast around him to condense air at the grounds warm temperature to help his healing continue as unhindered as possible.

Yes, that morning, for whatever reason, she had delighted in being difficult. She could be as hard-headed as an urgal when she wanted to be, overriding Eværín's assertions that he would carry her away in his claws by promising to use all her energy to get back to the ground again even if it completely drained her life force.

She didn't think she'd ever seen Eragon Shadeslayer truly exasperated until that moment.

"You are acting like a child." He informed her. She merely folded her arms and gave him a severe look, one that had made many a person flinch in its day, though she'd never had the pleasure of having such an effect on an Eragon himself. Perhaps the day that would change fast approached – she relished the thought.

"I'm thirteen!" She retorted.

"You are a Rider, you have a duty to act more mature than your age!" And with that, he stalked off to contact the Elvish Queen.

Poorly concealing her impatience when Eragon returned, they finally took off for Du Weldenvarden. If they hurried, they would reach the beginnings of the forest as it was touched by the outreaches of the elves' magic by nightfall, and could camp in one of the larger tree's shadows.

Not a word was exchanged as each Rider climbed into their saddles and took off into the bright, sunlight morning.

They quickly gained altitude into the brisk morning air, reaching the arctic uppermost reaches of the sky with more speed than Miles could ever remember. She was suddenly wishful of the insulated shirts that they had had at camp; since using her own as rope, Miles had been wearing an overlarge one of Eragon's, but it soon became next to frozen, the cold cloth making her shiver. They hadn't even been airborne for twenty minutes and already she was bitterly cold.

She hunched down over Eværín's back, and quickly composed a spell to keep some warmth in a bubble of air around her as they flew higher, hoping it would make her better company by the time she was forced to land. She disliked being in a bad mood, but the wish to stay in a pleasant mood did nothing to help the bad moods pass when they swarmed in her mind like stubborn storms, clouding her judgment. She needed to maintain an easy countenance and apologize for her behavior, she knew.

Once she'd warmed up a bit, and checked for the third or fourth time the progress of the other two dragons in the air – easily done, for they were exceedingly difficult to miss while sparkling so close to the morning sun – she found herself relaxing more, her muscles loosening and the usual rush that she felt from flying overtook her, soothing her wounded spirits. As a result, as the time grew near to land for lunch, she was – thankfully – in much better spirits than she had been in the morning, and found herself looking for a good excuse or apology to make up for her boorish behavior.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt a somewhat familiar consciousness touch hers and instinctively retreated behind a blockade of mental defenses, and began to recite an old dwarfish song in her mind with a practiced repetition:

*"Mud in the stream,

And earth in the air,

Clay in my ears,

And stone in my stare,"

Though, of course, the amber-colored dragon attempting to break into her mind did so with ease.

You are out of practice, Eværín observed with even more amusement. She scowled; of course, it was funny now, but what if that had been an enemy magician? She could be dead, and Eværín as well! She felt he was sobered slightly by her thoughts, but she pushed their communication to the back of her mind and concentrated on the dragon who had contacted her.

Is Thaddeus awake? She asked of Velęs, for that must be the only reason the dragon would have wanted to contact her in the first place.

Yes, the dragon responded an obvious relief and happiness seeping into the word. Miles smiled.

Good, we'll be landing shortly and we can all speak then. They then both retreated from the contact; Velęs had presumably already told Eragon of the boy's awakening.

After the initial relief of Thaddeus's awakening subsided, it was replaced by a feeling Miles could only describe as foreboding; they might find out what had destroyed the camp, and all the powerful beings in its attendance.

No more than ten minutes later, she found herself facing just this revelation. Thaddeus seemed to know what would be expected of him as he dismounted Velęs, his face looking pale and drawn; though, that could also be attributed to the wounds he had suffered, though it was bound to be at least one part worry. The conversation to come betwixt the group of them carried a heavy weight.

It was odd, she had to admit, to see him up and moving after the few days he'd been unconscious, but not unwelcome. She found some of the weight that had dragged on her shoulders had lifted when she found he had become conscious once more; it was admittedly extremely selfish of her, but she couldn't deny that it would have been terrible to have been the only student to have survived the disaster.

She did her best to give her one remaining peer a comforting smile as she dismounted.

"Well you seem in a better mood," Observed Eragon passively, standing beside the lake that they had been following, his arms crossed. Miles merely shrugged, deciding that there would be time for her apologies later.

"Lets just get down to it, shall we?" She suggested. Eragon gave a terse nod, and they both turned their gazes to Thaddeus. "I mean, if you're comfortable," She added, as an afterthought, nodding to the brown haired boy who had yet to dismount.

Warily, the boy began to loosen the ropes which held him in place – Miles had, embarrassingly, in hind sight – insisted they strap him in as securely as possible using any means, despite the knowledge that Velęs could easily catch him should he fall. You could never be too careful. He dropped to the ground, seemingly drained of energy, and asked, "Can't we eat first?"

Miles looked at Eragon, who nodded and turned to Saphira, retrieving one of the Saddle bags, which contained all the food they'd been able to get from the wreckage – a few loaves of sourdough bread, a few spices and salt, and a bit of meat. Neither Miles nor Eragon wanted the meat, both having already been put through the disciplinary mind practices which joined their consciousness's with those of animals which they were supposed to be eating – it was an uncomfortable position for Miles to be in, and she wasn't desperate enough to eat the meat, and neither was Eragon; therefore, it remained untouched until now.

They sat in a small circle, not lighting a fire, and ate their sparse meal; washing it down with water from a nearby stream.

Some of the color seemed to return to Thaddeus's face as he ate, and he seemed uncomfortably aware that both Miles and Eragon were studying him for any signs of, well, anything. Any clue in his countenance that would lend its voice to the conversation to come; some ghost of what was to be told in the conversation to come. He kept his expression guarded, ate silently as the rest of them, only speaking when the food had been returned to the saddlebags upon Saphira's back.

↬Thaddeus

When Thaddeus first awoke, the only thing he felt was confusion. One moment, he'd been walking out of the mess hall, accompanied by Edwin and Gwen, when suddenly he caught a glimpse of something massive – something he couldn't place, but didn't see all the way before a blinding pain erupted on the top of his skull, causing his sight to go awry. It was dark, but he was barely able to register that there was some kind of wall on top of him – his vision was blurred and spinning, and his head ached something fierce. He heard a commotion around him, and he got a cold, dark feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him something had indeed gone very, very wrong. He tried to contact Velęs and see if she knew what was happening, alarmed by the sudden drop of communication, but was frightened to find that he could not.

He knew not when the commotion stopped, only knowing that somehow and sometime, it had. He lay in a sort of limbo in between consciousness and unconsciousness; struggling to make sense out of the shapes that floated in front of him, unsure if they were imaginary. Dimly, he was aware of the wall being removed, and replaced by a face he found slightly familiar – purple eyes, he remembered those purple eyes. They seemed to look insolent even with his blurred vision and inflamed head. He could tell only that the girl smiled when it reached her eyes, causing the skin around them to crinkle. He focused on them, using them as a fixating point on which to anchor himself, and attempted to pull himself back to awares.

He felt the pressure of something on his head, and though he knew somewhere inside his mind that it was a slight pressure and not meant to hurt, everywhere it touched seemed to burn into the inflamed part of his being and he struggled request that she stop, please, before he screamed in agony. She said something comforting, but he couldn't make out what; it was the last thing her remembered, before everything was washed away into a cold blackness.

The next thing he knew, Thaddeus was quite thoroughly strapped into some saddle he couldn't identify atop a sea of familiar amber-colored scales. He sighed in relief as his consciousness seemed to come to speed with his surroundings and the familiar touch of Velęs's consciousness felt as inseparable from his as ever.

Little one, she said fondly, a sudden surge of affection overwhelming their mental link and pouring into his mind. He smiled to himself, feeling equally grateful and felt he could almost laugh out of elation, though he could not even fully register what was going on, or what had happened.

In a stream of images, scenes and conversations passed instantaneously from Velęs's mind to his own, his elation and smile suddenly vanished; if he'd been standing, he might have fallen to his knees, or at least staggered.

The camp destroyed, and burning. His comrades and peers, dead. His training masters, dead. Everyone and everything laid to waste, and only he was spared. Eragon and one other student as well - Miles, but they hadn't been at camp. Had Velęs not quarreled with him, and gone off on her own for a while, she mightn't have survived, either. Never did he think that he would be grateful for them to fight, but he was nothing but. It was a bittersweet feeling, though; he was overwhelmed by a sudden grief for the training camp of the Riders that had come to be his home.

He found it terribly and grimly ironic that Miles had been the only other student to survive. Insolent, out casted, clumsy and awkward, probably the worst swordsmen of them all, and she had been the one to survive. She wasn't about to curse her life, or wish that it had been someone else who had lived in her place – he could never be so cruel. Judging from what he had learned from Velęs and what he dimly remembered, the girl might have saved his own life, and through his, Velęs's life. He would forever be in her debt.

Ah. She's a fiery one, that hatchling, said Velęs with a touch of amusement as she prepared to land. Sulky all morning. She was as defensive of you as I was, but far less logical and tenfold more stubborn.

More stubborn than a dragon? He thought, amused, that must have been a sight to behold.

It was, indeed. She said, showing him the past few days that he'd been unconscious and he found that he could not suppress a grin. If he had to create a metaphor, he would have said that Miles was as defensive and pushy about what and where and how he should move, if at all, as a Lioness of her cubs; it was something he felt he would find amusement in for years to come. He would probably be laughing outright at the moment, where he not utterly plagued with despair over the death of the beginnings of a new age of Riders only moments before.

His misery at the fall of the order that had begun with so much promise then returned to him as he alighted on that last thought, and as a result he found himself landing with some mixture of mirth and grief which he knew he would not feel again in what remained of his days – and, according to legend, as a result of his bonding to Velęs, those would number more than most.

He dismounted after the other two Riders, taking as long as he could manage to undo the straps which held him into the saddle; somehow he had ended up the only one on a real saddle of the three, while the other two used what looked to be no more than makeshift layers of padding, sewn from some kind of animal hide, or possibly beaten down tree bark – nothing more than a simple layer of padding to keep from abrasions.

He procrastinated making his explanation of what happened, not wanting to let them down that he had not caught a real, good and reliable look at what had laid waste to decades' worth of work.

They all ate in a sullen silence, and he stared at the ground in the middle of them all; careful to keep his features guarded, though he knew the others studied him. He didn't look up or acknowledge their gazes until he finished eating; and, feeling marginally better now that his stomach was not empty, he looked up and cleared his throat.

"I don't have much to tell." He said, looking between the two, but mostly at Miles, finding the gaze of Eragon Shadeslayer, the more disappointed and more guarded of the two, harder to bear. "I was just leaving the mess hall when it began, and I'm assuming I was knocked out. I did see something, though, just before the wall fell…" He paused, unsure of how to explain it.

"I could look at it," said Eragon suddenly, "The memory, I mean. I could examine it, and see if it is a figure I recognize. You would have to allow me into your consciousness, though, and I won't do that without your permission,"

Thaddeus was a bit unsure as to what Eragon meant, having only ever shared minds with Velęs – he had always been under the impression that expanding your mind to communicate with others only something dragons could do, something they'd long since developed to be able to communicate – but, regardless of his confusion, he nodded his consent anyways.

He gasped as an icy cold wave crashed into his mind that had the distinct feel of the man before him, and did his best not to resist it. It was cold, but gentle, and passed over all his memories save the ones of his last day in camp; though Thaddeus had not wished to linger over those longer than necessary, he knew it important that Eragon discover what had done this, and for that reason he endured it.

After a few minutes, the feeling retreated, and Thaddeus opened his eyes, welcoming the feeling of warm sunshine returning to his face.

Eragon abruptly stood up, and said "I'll be back," before turning through the trees and disappearing. No more than a moment behind him, Saphira took off and followed him. The two students looked after them with confusion, but said nothing. In fact, they remained silent for a positively awkward amount of time, Miles casting small looks at Thaddeus and then Thaddeus, in return, casting small looks at Miles; each wondering if the other would speak first.

Finally, after about them minutes of the odd, silent look-casting game, the girl across from him spoke.

"I'm glad you're alright," She said, her voice penetrating the veil of silence that had pervaded the camp since their mentor's departure.

"Thanks," He said, his voice dry with wariness where it had not been only moments before. "And thanks for healing me…" He trailed off awkwardly, unsure of how exactly to put into words how his thanks for what Miles had done. While he was unconscious, Velęs would have been unable to make contact with him through their mental link, and had she not spotted him, he didn't know if he'd be alive. Velęs might have been too large to spot someone trapped into such a small space; he could have very well died trapped under that fallen wall, and he was sure, in the split second that he registered its descent over him, that he was going to.

"Oh – it's, it's no problem." She said, casting a small smile at him and wrapping her arms around her knees protectively, blushing slightly and letting silence fall once more.

I wonder why it's a big deal for her to talk to me now, he said to Velęs, she'd no trouble speaking up to me at camp to try and make me look foolish.

I think you know the circumstances are different, she said, seemingly amused by something.

Find something funny, Velęs? He asked, I don't get it. She was perfectly adequate at speaking her mind not a week ago, and now a bunch of people we both know – well, I knew more than she, I'll admit – are now dead, and she finds herself tongue tied?

Hush. Velęs responded, her tail twitching in still apparent amusement. Just make friends with the little Kit.

Kit?

She is like a misbehaved kitten, is she not? Therefore, I refer to her as a kit. It is a fitting nickname, is it not?

I suppose so. Thaddeus suppressed a chuckle, he caught a glimpse of a few conversations between Velęs and Eværín from Velęs's mind.

Returning his conversation to the girl who sat in front of him, looking around with once again increasing awkwardness, he cleared his throat again and spoke. "I didn't know you could use magic." He said.

"Oh, all Riders can – though, come to think of it, I'm not sure I was supposed to tell you that…" She trailed off again, regaining the awkward composure she'd held previously, her old childishly excited demeanor having shown for a few meager seconds.

"Really?" He said, puzzled. "Can you teach me, then?" He asked.

"I – I'm not sure if that's appropriate," she answered, wary.

"But you healed me! I saw, through Velęs's perspective – she showed me! You're great with magic, surely you can teach me something."

"No." She said firmly, "I mean, I healed you, yes – but I couldn't have done it without Eværín's help, I don't have the kind of energy reserves yet and I'm too young to have amassed the knowledge to do it with smaller amounts of energy and to compose spells involving only a few words in the ancient language… If you're using that route of logic to convince me, then you should know that Eragon healed you as well – he's certainlymore advanced in magic than I am, in ways I won't be able to grasp for years. And I'll probably never compare to the likes of an elf. I'm not the person who should teach you."

Thaddeus, however, didn't pay attention to her speech, but did as he was wont to do and focused on the only part that intrigued him. "The ancient language?" He said, "What's that?"

"It's – I shouldn't be telling you this. It should wait until we begin training again, and someone more … adept at teaching can help you." She said, getting up and turning her back to Thaddeus, walking to the edge of the clearing and doing her best to look occupied.

Thaddeus sighed, leaning back, and studied the back of her head intensely, as if he could divulge the answers he craved if only he memorized the back of the girl who held them. He abruptly looked away when she turned back, looking over her shoulder, and frowning.

"Stop staring at me, I'm not going to tell you."

"I could just ask Eragon." He offered.

"Don't be a tell-tale," She answered dismissively.

"I wasn't going to be. I was only going to ask if he would teach me before we reach Ellesméra. That's where were going, isn't it? That's what Velęs told me, and I've a hard time thinking she could be mistaken."

"No, we are." She said simply, sighing and returning back to the middle of the clearing and reoccupying her previous seat. "I wonder how long he'll be gone," Said Miles, casting a look towards the forest where Eragon had disappeared with curiosity.

"I don't know. He always just leaves, doesn't he? I mean – no disrespect, or anything – but abruptly just leaves and goes to do something else."

"Exactly!" Miles exclaimed, before clamping a hand over her mouth. Easing it off after a moment, she added, "I mean, I'm sure he's… quite busy?" She offered.

Thaddeus looked at her for a moment before starting to crack up. After an uncertain moment, in which Thaddeus was sure she was going to simply gawk at him and leave him to drown his mirth in silence, she started to laugh, too.

"I'm sure he is," Thaddeus agreed.

"Thank you, Thaddeus," She said, almost sarcastically and still laughing. "I don't even know why I find this so amusing," She confessed.

He shrugged, "Sometimes things are funnier when situations are tense." He said, "And you can call me Thad. Thaddeus is a mouthful,"

"Thad, then," She said, nodding. "I would offer you some kind of nickname to use in return, but I should think Miles is short enough." She shrugged, "But I do believe you might have just said something wise," She informed him.

"Oh?" He said, "Wise, you say? Then I believe that should qualify me to give you a nickname, let me see…" He reclined and pretended to look deep in thought. He told her of the conversation he'd had with Velęs, ending with,"I shall call you 'Kit', then. No objections."

The girl pushed against the side of the massive dragon seated beside her, who had been watching their conversation unfold with a passive interest. "I can't believe you would share that with them," She scolded. Eværín huffed, exhaling a small cloud of smoke into the sky, projecting his mind to say, I thought it funny.

"Fine," She said, returning her attention to Thad. "Kit and Thad, aren't we a pair?" She smiled.

Just then, Eragon returned to the clearing; appearing just as suddenly as he'd disappeared. "Let's be on our way then," He said, "I contacted Queen Arya, in Ellesméra to speak with her,"

"Wait," Said Miles, standing again and raising one eyebrow, "You found something in Thad's memories? Aren't you going to tell us?" she gestured between Thad and herself, and by extension, Eværín and Velęs. "I think we've the right to know," She said, stonily.

"There are many who would punish you for such insolence." He told her, adding, "Never you mind – come, we've much ground to cover, and little time to cover it. It is imperative we reach Ellesméra to resume your training."

"But – !" She started, cut off by a sudden up-rush of air as Saphira took off, leaving her mid-sentence. She fumed at them from below, her fists clenching at her sides as she watched them fade into the sky above. It seemed her earlier bad mood was flooding back to her in full force.

"Let it go, Kit." Said Thad, crawling back onto the saddle on Velęs's back and taking off, relishing the use of the new nickname. I quite like it, he decided, it does suit her quite well, he noted with humor as they took off. Velęs chuckled, but they circled the clearing until Eværín rose to meet them, a still angry Miles on his back.

Miles

Miles was still slightly angry with her mentor when they landed to camp that evening, her mood fading twice as quickly as before, but still lingering when she touched the ground again. They could have flown through the night, as she suspected they would have had they really needed to reach Ellesméra so urgently, but instead they were landing for the night to make camp and sup together on the ground.

You would think – she thought, venting to Eværín for the millionth time that afternoon, that being two of five remaining Riders in the entirety of Alagaësia would entitle you to know what he found in Thad's memories. And it's Thad's memory! If Eragon noticed something, you would think he had the decency to tell him! It's his memory!

Patience, young one. He said simply, careening downward into a clearing where she could already see the landed forms of Velęs and Saphira, the gleaming amber and blue sticking out between two curtains of lush green.

She sighed, preparing an apology she was sure would sound as fake as it actually was, but not caring enough to be more genuine; she was still too angry.

Besides her anger with Eragon, she had been quite satisfied with the rest of the morning's break – Thad had woken up, and they'd become friends of a sort, which was nice. She didn't think she'd spoken to anyone besides Eværín with such friendliness in a good few years, as no one at the training camp had really cared to befriend the outcast. She'd forgotten how much she loved to talk to other people.

When they landed, the two men looked up at her, watching her as she dismounted clumsily as ever. She scowled at them, and delivered her completely insincere apology to a highly amused Eragon, even more angered when her refused to take her seriously yet again – most things she did just seemed to amuse him, which was infuriating. She sat down on far from the fire, so that the outermost reaches of its glow were barely able to reach her.

Thaddeus and Eragon spoke at length about a number of things she found she really didn't care for – Sword fighting, mostly, and other combat related topics. Though, she found many comments bubbling up to her mouth when the conversation turned to archery and flying, she kept her mouth shut and continued with her sulking.

She flinched, however, when Thad brought up magic and its uses in combat, explaining what Miles had told him earlier that afternoon and asking Eragon to teach him. She looked at Thad's hopeful face warily, and she felt Eragon gaze at her – very aware, not for the first time, that he did not need the fire to see.

The clearing was silent for a long moment before Eragon spoke again.

"I did say it was imperative that you resume your training as soon as possible. Using magic could well be useful to you in the coming months," He relented, picking up a pebble from the ground and handing it to Thad, who looked at it eagerly. Miles found she did not want to watch the beginnings of the lesson, and left as Eragon began to tutor him in the pronunciation of the words of the ancient language to lift the stone of his hand, and then going on to explain the uses of the ancient language and the uses and limitations of magic in general.

Instead, she curled up beside Eværín, and dropped off to sleep.

The days passed in much the same manner, but it was not more than a week before the reached the elvish city of Ellesméra. Miles got over her anger towards Eragon, and eventually made an actual apology; he told them both that he hadn't really found anything concrete in Thad's memory, and promising – in the ancient language, to Miles satisfaction (she later had to translate for Thad) – that as soon as he knew for sure, he would inform them both.

Gradually, they began to pick up several different aspects of training in the evenings; sparring (to Miles's chagrin) and magic (to both her and Thad's delight). They also meditated, practiced the ancient language profusely, as they would have to speak it fluently among the elves, and performed the Rimgar – Miles most decidedly liked this new way of training.

She had also taken to tutoring Thad in the customs and etiquette that the elves used in the mornings, to save him from embarrassment upon their arrival. It was something she had a great familiarity with, even more so than Eragon – for she'd lived among them for several years, where his training there had only spanned a few months. She told him what to do when confronted with elves of various rank, how to address them, and how to present himself to the guardian of Ellesméra, Gilderien the Wise, to gain entry to the City. She even told him stories about the parts of her childhood spent there.

In return, he told her about his family and upbringing under the Spine's shadow. He told her of his brothers and his parents, of the small community in which he'd lived – not even big enough to really be called a village.

"It wasn't big, but its home," He said, then frowning, "– was home." He amended. He fell silent after that, with a brooding and troubled look taking over his face, where before he'd been happily telling her about hunting trips taken with his siblings and of the many customs he'd been raised with. She wanted to say something comforting, but couldn't think of what, so instead simply bade him pleasant dreams and went to bed.

The next morning, she awoke to find that Thad had gone off into the woods to hunt, and Eragon was looking at her curiously from across the fire.

"You talk in your sleep," He said, "What were you dreaming about?"

Miles sat up slowly, apprehensive. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she recalled the dream she'd been having; it was odd, for she'd never before remembered her dreams, until she began to have the same, reoccurring one. It was burned into her memory, and she was able to recall most of the important details.

"I keep having the same one," She said, folding her hands in her lap, "I'm back at camp, and I'm walking towards one of the trees, where I'd go during free time. Its exactly the same as I remember it, except there's a child there… but its not human, though it looks to be. It tells me the same thing everytime…" She trailed off.

He raised his eyebrows, "Go on."

"Something – something about freeing a foolish spirit. It always mentions that…. 'where disasters become connected,' was the next bit." She exhaled; for some reason, her mind always went foggy when she reached for the exact wording. "And then – she tells me that I have to go to where 'it all began' and that's where I'll find what I'm looking for… and something about solace and aid… I think…? I don't know. It's just a dream."

Eragon looked at her curiously from over the fire, "Miles, have you ever met a werecat?" He asked.

"No," She admitted. She knew that there used to live one in Ellesméra, and perhaps it (he, she?) still did, but Miles had never met it, though she wished she could have. She knew next to nothing about them, but that only served to make her more curious. "I wish. Why?"

"Well, I believe you just have, in a way." He said. He told her how that 'small child' that isn't human was probably a werecat in its semi-human form, "They only talk to humans when they deem it important or necessary. I'd pay attention to what they say, if they speak with you. I did, and it all seemed to turn out okay for me," His mouth twisted downward in a bitter smile, "Well, for the most part."

She nodded, looking down at her hands again, finding it hard to believe her dreams had something to do with the same kind of future-bending adventures of Eragon Shadeslayer. No, this couldn't be anything on that scale – someone would have to notify whoever was in charge of choosing heroes and inform them that she was completely incompetent in just about everything, and order them to reevaluate their choices.

They waited in this silent manner, Miles conversing about nothing on importance with Eværín and she suspected Eragon discussing her dream with Saphira until Thad came back, with three fresh rabbits in his hand. She gave Eragon a look, and saw the same distaste she felt reflected in his eyes.

Of course, Thad, never having meditated or shared the thoughts of a rabbit, would be happy for the meat, and Miles didn't begrudge him. Meat was delicious, but she found herself sickened by the prospect of eating something once she'd shared thoughts with. It wasn't the first time in their venture they'd been forced to hunt and she wasn't about to start speaking up now; she did as she always did, and grit her teeth, eating enough to sustain her and not a bite more.

They were on the fringes of Du Weldenvarden, having skirted its edges for a few days now until they could make a more direct flight to Ellesméra – it would not have been prudent of them to alert the entirety of the elves to the destruction of the new generation of Riders, before Eragon had decided how best to move forward from this point. So, they wanted to spend as little time in the actual forest, camping and traveling, as possible. They'd probably continue on as they had been for another day or so, and then taking a flight of another day to reach Ellesméra.

Three days, and then we can sleep in real beds, she mused. She hadn't slept in a proper bed in ages; the half-makeshift bunks for the students were no more than glorified cots built into the walls. Eværín gave a grumble of assent and the image of the special bedding and dips in the floor made especially for dragons flashed across his mind, and she knew he shared the sentiment.

The time passed in quick succession, and she felt nostalgic upon entering the trees under the influence of the elves magic; it was more her home than Dras Leona had been, and she couldn't remember anything about how or where she'd lived with her parents. It was as close to a home as she ever supposed she'd have, and she'd missed it dearly.

The trees were massive, and the forest seemed doubly more alive than any other; it constantly humming with activity. She looked down at the forest dreamily from above as they flew across it in the late afternoon, the sun barely above the line of trees but still invigorated to bathe the earth in bright golden rays.

When they came into the reach of Ellesméra, however, they were forced to dismount and ask permission to pass from Gilderien the Wise, who simply fascinated Thad, though he'd seen elves before. He kept looking back as they walked on from where the image of Ellesméra's guardian faded, and asking questions. Miles answered his questions with what little she knew of the elf, and she suspected that the boy would have many more questions by the days end; he'd never been to a city in Du Weldenvarden before. She knew from experience that it was an enthralling experience at first, and she herself hadn't stopped asking questions for ages of Lútheiņ, forgetting and re-asking questions more often than not.

The day was long, and Miles found she was half as excited as she normally would have been to return to Ellesméra; the journey had felt much longer than it had been, and she wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep for a long while. True to her prediction, however, Thad kept looking around with wide eyes and rattling off questions whenever he could – which, wasn't often as he probably wanted to; there were many different respects to be paid and etiquette to uphold, ceremonies to be observed. As a result, it was a good while before they were settled in the quarters often offered to Riders during their stay in elvish cities.

Though she'd lived on the outskirts of Ellesméra as opposed to the tree houses, Miles didn't explore the new suite of rooms too much before falling into the bed and falling asleep almost as soon as she closed her eyes.

A.N. - again, I didn't get this up as soon as I'd wanted to. Its getting harder to find the time two write and edit things to my satisfaction, as I've got sports starting up and school soon. I feel as if this chapter got farther than the last, so hopefully I'm getting better at that :)

*Borrowed from The Princess Academy, by Shannon Hale; all my attempts at poetry are quite dismal.