Disclaimer: I do not own any character in the Inheritance Trilogy. They belong to Christopher Paolini. I do, however, own my plot, Vindr, Mithrim, and the legend of Vollar Skulblaka and Vrangr Zar'roc. Don't steal them!

13: An Explanation

Murtagh savored the feeling of the wind on his face, a luxury that he hadn't experienced since the Burning Plains. His dark hair blew in the wind, and he smiled for the first time since Thorn had hatched for him. The feeling of being free was overwhelming, as was the news that his mother was alive. He couldn't believe it! He was finally free of Galbatorix, and he could finally begin to atone for the atrocities he's committed by Galbatorix's hand. He worried about Ora and Eragon, wherever they were. Battling the Ra'zacs was beyond crazy, but maybe, just maybe Eragon and Ora could defeat them. After all, they now had the strength, speed and senses of an Elf. Had Eragon not been tired, he would have had a chance of beating Murtagh in battle. He was nigh impossible to beat with a sword, but he was no match for Murtagh's magic. The eldest brother thought guiltily of the sword that hung on his belt. Zar'roc was his inheritance, but he had been cruel at the battle of the Burning Plains.

"It's not like I had a choice. Even though the King doesn't know my true name I still swore fealty to him. I had to say what he wanted me to say." Murtagh thought to himself. He allowed his thought to drift across the mental link that he shared with Thorn. He was trying to convince himself that what he'd done wasn't his fault.

"That's true. It wasn't our fault, but I have a feeling that we will have to pay for it anyway," the ruby dragon told his master. He felt Murtagh's pain, and he also had some of his own. He'd been forced to fight his only possible mate, Saphira.

"Aye, we will. Mark my words."

"You know, my son, you really should be more careful about guarding yourself while you converse with Thorn. I heard every word," Selena thought to Murtagh.

"Sorry, Mother." Murtagh thought to his mother, glad that his mother was again there to scold him.

"I don't want to scold you, my boy; I was merely pointing out a fact. I shouldn't call you a boy anymore, Murtagh. You are almost twenty-one years old."

"I know, Mother, and you can scold me any day. It's good to have you home," thought Murtagh.

"It's good to be back, though I wouldn't call Uru'baen home. I missed you, my son. How are Eragon and Ora?"

"Last time I met Eragon Galbatorix forced me to tell him the truth about our father. That snake made me act like him; cruel and ruthless. I haven't had the opportunity to scry him since the battle. The Elves have somehow transformed him, because he now has the strength, speed, and power of one of the Fair Folk. Ora is . . . well, Ora. She was also transformed, and has grown all the more beautiful for it. She bested me at archery last time we had a match, and she is becoming an accomplished swordswoman. I can hardly believe that she is my little sister anymore. Your daughter is both brave and cunning, Mother. I heard that she used the old 'I lost my book' excuse. It's no surprise the guards believed her. She is related to me, after all." Murtagh thought to Selena, thinking about how much his little sister resembled him in heart. In appearance, though, no one could guess that they were related. Murtagh with his brownish-black hair and dark features and Ora with her dark blond mane and piercing green eyes were as different as night and day.

"The last time I saw her she was a newborn, and now she is seventeen. It's been a long time, Murtagh. I must apologize for leaving you. I had no choice, but I have regretted it every day for the past seventeen years."

"We think alike, my mother. 'I had no choice' was what I said to Eragon when he confronted me. How do you know about the legend of Vrangr Zar'roc and Vollar Skulblaka?"

"Like you," said Selena, "I used to read many books, most of them being about the days of the Riders. The myth appeared in a book about Riders and the training they received. Two years ago I was thinking of you; thinking of a way to help you and your sister when I began to remember that old tale. I knew that the King would jump at the chance to keep the most powerful Rider of all under his thumb. I know it can't be you, my son, and for that I am grateful. A poet once said, 'One whose intentions are good may be easily swayed by the image of power'. I tend to think of you as stronger than that; as someone who lives above the influence of evil. Besides, according to the myth, Vollar Skulblaka is to be a white dragon."

"I'm glad you hold such strong hopes for me, Mother. I will not let you down. I know of no white egg or dragon that is in existence. Do you?" Murtagh asked, curious of the knowledge that his mother had acquired in her absence.

"Such things shall not be discussed here. We've already been foolish, and, as you know, Galbatorix has eyes and ears everywhere." There was a certain edge to Selena's voice that told Murtagh to back off. He began to let his mind wander to other things like where they were going. Apparently, Selena had already told Thorn. He would ask his dragon, but they should be silent until they were far from Uru'baen. While her son was pondering their destination, Selena was having thoughts of her own.

"What if she doesn't remember me? It has, after all, been seventeen years. Who am I kidding? Of course she'll remember me. She probably thinks I'm dead . . . or worse. Either way, she certainly will be surprised to see me." Selena turned the ring that was on her right hand. The stone was a beautiful shade of violet; the same shade of her magic, and it had an Elven symbol on it. The band was made from pure silver and was studded with tiny diamonds.

The only noise that broke through the silence of the night was the swooping sound of Thorn's wings. The scarlet dragon had many questions himself. Hatched into captivity, Thorn had dreamed of freely roaming the skies with Murtagh, and eventually settling down with a mate. He had hoped that Saphira might be this mate, but how could that be possible now? He had been forced to fight her at the Burning Plains. How could she forget a thing like that? The answer: she couldn't. Thorn knew that dragons' memories stretched as long as time itself. Saphira thought of Thorn as a traitor who had betrayed her race, and he couldn't deny it. He hadn't done it willingly, but a deed is a deed as far as dragons are concerned.

As dragon and humans were lost in their respective thoughts, the bright stars that studded the heavens began to disappear, leaving the sky a dull gray color. A strip of light appeared to the right, a sign that the party was heading north. Murtagh was so used to the silence that he jumped when he heard his mother's voice inside his head.

"We should stop now and get some rest, Murtagh. I am weary and I know you are, too. We have distanced ourselves enough from Galbatorix that he can not hear our thoughts."

"As you wish, Mother," Murtagh said, glad to get a chance to sleep. His stomach seemed to flip inside of him as Thorn began to make his descent. Would he ever get used to that feeling? The crimson dragon's scales shimmered in the new sunlight. The sunrise was a spectacular show of colors that ranged from bright pinks to deep blues. Selena sighed with content. Finally, she was with her eldest son again and would soon be with her other children. Thorn's circles began to decrease in size as he got lower. At last, after what seemed like forever to an exhausted Murtagh, the great dragon touched the ground. His sharp talons gripped the soft earth that they landed on, stopping the dragon completely. They were concealed from ground level by a bend in the Ramr River, and they needn't worry about being seen from above. The last time Galbatorix had ridden Shruikan had been ten years ago, and Murtagh doubted that the King would go after them himself.

Murtagh dismounted and offered his mother his hand. She took it gladly and let him help her down from Thorn. Selena pulled a loaf of bread and several pieces of fruit from a saddle bag and offered half to Murtagh. He gladly accepted, enjoying the first real meal he'd had in days. Selena finished quickly and set to work filling the water skins in the river. She'd brought four, so Murtagh suspected that they would be crossing the Hadarac Dessert. While she was doing this, Murtagh set about removing Thorn's saddle. He unbuckled the main clasp and began the task of lifting the sixty pound saddle off of the dragon with both hands. Struggling with the saddle, he twisted in an attempt to pull the massave thing off of Thorn. Immediately, searing, burning pain coursed through Murtagh's back. He dropped to the ground, writhing. He again felt his father's sword slicing through his back. Murtagh's consciousness began to fade. The last thing he remembered was Thorn's voice yelling his name before he drifted into sweet darkness. A/N: Well, we haven't visited good old Murtagh lately, so I wrote a chapter about what is going on with him and Selena. Thank you to my reviewers, especially Rustling Leaves who pointed out that Eragon swore to not tell anyone about Glaedr and Oromis is the Ancient Language. This is resolved by the fact that Ora already knew about them from Eragon's experiences, and that Eragon considers Ora to be a part of himself, thusly, he can tell her. Hope this clears things up!

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