Disclaimer: I do not own anything remotely familiar in this fic and the previous fic.

Thank you for your enthusiasm and your warm acceptance of our OC's! I wish to delve more on them in the coming days, but my question is... Do you think they will survive the war?

Anyway, read on for a bit of familiar and not-so-familiar

Chapter 25: To Become True Shur'tugalar

Why is he asking us that? Murtagh asked. I mean, isn't it truly evident already?

I think he is testing us, replied Thorn.

The Riders exchanged slightly uncomfortable looks before Nasuada proceeded. "We wish to complete our training. Brom brought us through one stage of it, but we need to learn more."

"Saying that is simple," Ash noted. "But what do you think would be needed for you to achieve it?"

"Well, we need to learn more about magic and fighting, right?" Eragon offered. "Brom taught us everything he knew, but I don't think that it is everything that we must learn."

"Magic and swordsmanship are among the most formidable skills, but without the ability to apply them, you will not survive for long."

"That is true," Oromis said. "We must teach you that, if you are not to follow the same path as Galbatorix – who was powerful and skilled, but lacked moral direction. It is a dangerous force in the world. My daughters can help you hone your powers through magic, swordsmanship, archery and everything else in between, but I am here to guide you in learning how to choose the right principles that you must carry out in your life. Making the right choices for the wrong reasons would still be wrong. Digging deeper to truly know who you are and what you can do is the most important part of your training."

Murtagh nodded. "We are ready to learn, Master. When do we begin?"

Oromis opened his mouth to answer, but then he stiffened and turned red. Luckily, he already passed his flagon of water to Ash, or else he would have dropped it. His fingers curled, clutching his robe desperately. The sudden change was so surprising and terrifying, and the Riders could do anything to help, as Oromis relaxed once more, though he looked more weary.

His daughters gave him concerned looks and probably communicated with him using their minds. Oromis seemed to shake them off. "Forgive me for that," he murmured.

Are you well? Thorn asked.

Oromis gave them an amused look. His mouth twitched ever so slightly. "Not as well as I would like to be. Elves may fancy themselves immortal, but maladies of the flesh cannot be escaped. They are beyond our knowledge too. Our magical gifts can do no more than delay them. It is not contagious, but none of us could get rid of it."

Serylda shook her head. "We have tried to help father, Ashelia and I. Even our other siblings have done their part, binding our father with layers of small weak spells that can duplicate enchantments that father cannot do anymore." The elf paused, looking anguished, before continuing in a choked voice. "It is the only way to help him live long enough to watch the last dragons return, and to save our Order."

"My sister and I cannot do it alone. We have not undergone the kind of training that would make us fit to take on apprentice Riders ourselves," added Ash. "We can only do it with Father's guidance and besides, what kind of daughter would not want to prolong the life of her sire?"

"That is true," Nasuada said sadly. She looked down, and Murtagh resisted the mad urge to wrap an arm around her shoulder. "How long…?"

"…until I die?" Oromis said, lifting an angular eyebrow. "We still have time, but it is precious little and must not be wasted. Should the Varden call upon your help, trouble shall arise. Your instruction, therefore, must begin immediately. We will train faster than any Rider and dragon pair ever has. My daughters and I must condense decades of knowledge into months or weeks."

Should I tell him? Eragon's thoughts pierced through Murtagh's own ones.

I think you should. If he is to teach us, he must know whatever is hindering us.

"Master, you do know about my own… infirmity, right?" Eragon turned red and seemed to try hard just for him not to squirm. He looked up sadly. "I am as crippled as you are."

Oromis shared what looked like a sad look with his daughters. "Eragon, you are not a cripple, unless you consider yourself as one. I – more than any other – understand what you are going through. But remain optimistic. A negative outlook in life will be worse than any crippling injury. I am speaking from personal experience. Pitying yourself will not serve you, Saphira, or your friends."

Ash smiled kindly. "All elven spellweavers – including us – will look into this malady, and try to study it. If possible, we will look for a way to alleviate or even vanquish it. For now though, your training should proceed the way that it should be for everyone."

Eragon looked like he was about to protest, but Oromis cut him off. "No, it will not kill you. Your curse is quite similar to mine. We both have our duties. You to the Varden – though you swore no oaths – and I to you and your friends. We have a lot at risk, so we cannot afford to fail."

Silence passed. Serylda stirred from her thoughts. "We have people that we are willing to sacrifice ourselves for, young Rider," she murmured. Her face softened, making her look more approachable. She rose to her feet in perfect grace. "Now, I will be your master in building your strength to fight physically." She smiled. "Rise."

Wait, Masters, Saphira said, projecting her thoughts to the entire group. Is Brom aware of your survival?

Ash laughed – it was as beautiful as an elf's, maybe more. She exchanged an amused glance with Brand, whose gray eyes examined the group in subtle glee. "Of course he does. Few things happen which Brom knows nothing about. In that regard, he is like a werecat, I guess."

Oromis inclined his head. "Brom was my pupil in Ilirea twenty years before the Fall. I am glad to know that you and he get along well. Few people ever showed him kindness, and his life has always been hard."

"Did you know any of the Forsworn as well?" Murtagh asked, curiosity alighting in him.

"Yes. I knew them as young Riders. I've had an… unfortunate encounter with Kialandi and Formora during the Fall, too, and Morzan was my apprentice the same time as Brom."

"And Galbatorix?"

"Ah, yes. I am an Elder, and was one of those who voted to deny another dragon for him after poor young Jarnunvosk perished. I am fortunate enough to never teach him, as he personally hunted down and killed all of his mentors."

Serylda began to circle the young Riders once they stood up. She touched their backs, their arms and tried to feel their muscles. She did it with no feeling, simply as if she was studying a new specimen. "Fair amount of muscle. Good, good." She stopped and surveyed her students. "Your bodies are balanced, though some of you seem built more for speed than for strength. Which hand do you prefer?"

"Well, five of us right-handed and Arya prefers her left," offered Murtagh, "though Brom taught all of us to fight with either hand should we meet unwanted injuries."

Serylda nodded. "Wise of him." She directed the Riders to do exercises for flexibility.

Arya – as an elf, and a fairly young one – did the best, while the others managed to do well enough. Eragon struggled with some of those that required him to twist and bend his back, though Serylda didn't complain about it. As a matter of fact, she seemed pleased with the results and expressed her wish for them to do a few exercises to improve their flexibility. She also asked the dragons to do some complex poses to see their flying skills, flexibility and even strength.

Ash clapped her hands in pleasure. "Fantastic, fantastic," she said. "You all have your different strengths and weaknesses, but it makes you a more effective team!"

"Ashelia!" Serylda's eyes glinted happily though she tried to sound annoyed. "I am the one doing the assessment."

Aegon tilted his head slightly. He eyed the dragons appreciatively. Maybe we shouldn't have coddled the Riders so, he noted in his deep, resonating voice. If our hatchlings cared for themselves and learned their own ways in the wild like you did – and as our wild kin had – then maybe they would have honed their talents and possessed their skills as you have.

Yes, Glaedr said, seconding him. I have never seen dragons your age with the skill that you have.

"No, even though they had been raised in Vroengard with the old ways, they would still have their extraordinary gifts. Few dragons are ever so naturally talented," said Oromis.

"We all have room for improvement, of course," argued Ash.

"Ah, yes." Oromis glanced at his other daughter. "But I believe that Serylda is the one who is doing the talking and not you."

"Forgive me, Father."

Serylda's lip twitched as she regarded the Riders. "I will have more time to assess your fighting capabilities later," she said. "For now, the three of us must know more about what you have learned not just from Brom, but also throughout your entire life."

The next few hours were spent with the three teachers delving into everyone's knowledge from botany to woodwork to farming and many other random topics, though the bulk of the questions boiled down to history and the ancient language – which Arya excelled in due to her elven upbringing. It reminded Murtagh of the way Brom quizzed them during their travels.

He was starting to miss those days.

For lunch, they convened in Oromis' home, though the dragons were left behind. The place was very austere, only containing essentials for food, hygiene, sleep and intellectual needs. Cubbyholes lined the walls, filled with hundreds and hundreds of scrolls. A sheath of deep gold – the same shade as Glaedr's scales – hung near the table, togethr with a matching sword of the same shade.

A flat panel one span high and two spans wide was set right into the inner pane of the door. It looked like it melded with the wood itself. It depicted the image of a beautiful, towering city that was built against a steep mountain slope. The gleaming silver moon was rising on the horizon, illuminating the slender, towering buildings. It looked so much like a magical window that it was hard to believe that it was simply a work of art.

"That's a beautiful place," Murtagh mumbled. "Where is it located?"

Oromis' eyes hardened. "Memorize that landscape. It will serve you well to do so. Therein lies the root of your troubles. You are looking at what was once our greatest city, Ilirea, which was burned and abandoned during Du Fyrn Skulblaka and became the capital of the Broddring Kingdom before becoming the black city of Uru'baen. Humans and elves once lived in peace there, and I made that fairth on the night that I and many others were forced to flee our home before Galbatorix arrived."

"Did you paint this… fairth?" Murtagh asked.

Arya grinned. "We do not paint fairths, my friend."

"She's right. A fairth is an image created by magic, fixed upon a slab of polished slate." Oromis put a slender hand on the fairth. "It is prepared with layers of pigments to create any color you wish to. That landscape you see is how I saw Ilirea in my mind when I uttered my spell."

"Broddring Kingdom… like the one King Palancar established?" Eragon asked. "I vaguely remember Faolin discussing him before."

Ash nodded. "The very same. The name was used as the name of your land before the Riders fell. After Vrael's murder, Galbatorix flew on Ilirea with his twelve remaining Forsworn and deposed King Agrenost, taking his throne and titles as his own." Behind them, Oromis began opening cupboards hiddien in the curved walls and brought out bread rolls and numerous bowls of fruit. He set them down on the table and motioned for the group to sit. Ash grabbed a piece of bread and a handful of strawberries for herself. "Anyway, he added Vroengard and many other lands to the east and the south to his conquests, creating the empire you grew up in. The Broddring Kingdom still does exist, but only as a mere name on royal decrees."

Everyone was quiet as they began to eat. Murtagh exchanged a glance with Eragon, and it was evident that both of them wanted to ask more questions. It was probably an obvious cue to their masters too, as Oromis regarded them with a smile. "You brothers reminded me of Brom when I chose him as an apprentice. He was only ten years old then, but he was as curious as the two of you put together. I barely heard anything but questions from him for a year. Do not be afraid to ask."

"I want to know so much," Eragon said. "Who are you all? Where did you come from? Where did Brom come from? He barely tells us anything."

"What was Morzan like? How was life in Vroengard? I want to know many things about the Riders too," added Murtagh. "Maybe it will help us all with the paths that we must choose."

Serylda leaned forward and bit into a blackberry with a look of amusement. "You do ask a lot of questions!" She finished the berry and rubbed her hands together – "polishing her palms," as Garrow would say – and laughed softly. It was beautiful, musically so. "Father, tell them."

Oromis obliged. "I was born eight hundred years ago in our city of Luthivira – a beautiful place in the woods by Lake Tudosden. Like all elves, I left my childhood behind at the age of twenty and was presented to the eggs given by the dragons to the Riders, and Glaedr hatched for me. We trained as a Rider and dragon pair and traveled the world over for a century to do Vrael's will. We eventually retired and worked instead to pass our experience and knowledge to the next generation. We took a position in the middle of Ilirea which, like most human and elven cities, had Rider outposts. There we took in one or two Riders at a time and taught them until Galbatorix destroyed us."

Ash continued the story. "A century and a half before the fall, he met another Rider – a human woman named Sigird Twoblades. She came from a southern outpost in what is now Surda, and merely came to visit Ilirea. To cut our tale short, they fell in love. She bore him two children. I am the second and the only Rider of the two. My brother, Jotnar, sadly was not chosen. We were raised by her in Ilirea and introduced to Father when I was thirteen. No dragon hatched for Jotnar when he was tested at fifteen. When I was the same age though, Brand hatched for me. A lot of trouble was caused by that, but we managed to train under Father's wing and eventually set out to work for Vrael until the Fall."

"What about Master Serylda?" Murtagh asked, wondering how Oromis could father children with two different women.

Oromis nodded in understanding. "When Sigrid died two years after Ash joined the Riders, I was devastated. I threw myself into training Ash for the next twenty years and when she was deemed worthy to proceed with the next level of the training process, I met an elven Rider named Freynera."

"Freynera is my mother. She raised my elder sister, Lysara, and I with love. We grew up in the growing human settlement that is now Teirm, living in the quarters provided for Riders with offspring. I was chosen as a Rider at the age of twenty, but Lysara was not. It caused her to run away to Du Weldenvarden and she has been living in Nadindel ever since. I was not in Vroengard during the final stand against Galbatorix, as Ash and I were busy helping the elven army set up their defenses along with our siblings."

"But what about Brom?" Eragon pressed.

"Brom's family was that of illuminators and as the eldest son, he was expected to follow that trade when he came of age. His mother was a kind woman named Nelda who often visited him even though it was expensive and took a long time. His father, Holcomb, was a strict disciplinarian who was nevertheless bright and full of potential. Kuasta was very isolated from the rest of Alagaesia due to its location in the spine, and so it had many curious traditions which he of course practiced until the other human students teased him about it. It also caused him to lose many of his other habits."

"Does that mean that few people from isolated places ever became Riders?" probed Katrina.

Ash nodded. "It was rare, but not unheard of. Just having four Riders at once from the same village in Palancar Valley is a curious event as it is."

"What about Morzan?" Eragon asked. "What was he like?"

Oromis pursed his lips and exchanged grim looks with his daughters. "Morzan was my greatest failure. Though I took them in at the same time, Brom idolized him so much that he stayed by his side all the time, would always agree with anything Morzan said and never believed that he could do anything better than him. I am ashamed to admit that though it was in my power to prevent it, Morzan took advantage of Brom's hero worship all the time."

"I met him whenever I visited father," Serylda explained. "He was a proud and cruel boy who grew worse as time passed by."

"That is true. I considered separating him from Brom when they finally the first level of their training but alas, I was unable to. Morzan proceeded to help Galbatorix steal a dragon hatchling – Shruikan – to replace the one the mad boy lost. He was the one who murdered the dragon's original Rider himself. They fled together, sealing our doom."

Ash began to trace circles on the smooth surface of the table. "Morzan's betrayal had a big impact on Brom, especially as Brom looked up to him so much. When Galbatorix ordered his Forsworn to kill Brom's dragon, my young apprentice focused all of his anger and pain on the one he blamed the most for it. He felt that it was his mission to destroy Morzan."

"But Morzan's still alive," Arya pointed out. "We even fought him and his dragon in Gil'ead."

"Yes he is, but only through sheer luck. The last time they battled around sixteen or seventeen years ago, Morzan barely survived because Brom was needed elsewhere. That man is cunning enough to always outsmart Morzan, who is powerful but not exactly intelligent."

"But Morzan has a dragon!"

"He has a dragon but until that point, they never really travelled together. I think Morzan began to feel too confident and kept separating himself from Alsmin."

"That's incredibly foolish of him," Nasuada noted. "And how could he bear being separated from his dragon?"

Serylda shook her head sadly. "I do not think that our enemies still think and feel the way that we do," she murmured.

Oromis made a small sound of consent. "Do you know why losing your dragon – or vice versa – usually kills the survivor?"

The Riders winced. Katrina rubbed her forehead and gazed at the door forlornly. "I can imagine it," she whispered, face pale.

Ash leaned forward, her vivid eyes seemingly turning dark. "Ah, yes. The pain is shock enough – though you can still survive that factor. The problem is that a part of yourself, your mind, your identity… it dies. When Brom's Saphira died, he even went mad for a time. Once we helped Father escape from capture, we brought him with us to Ellesmera to keep him safe, and yet, he did not wish to stay. He marched with our army to the plains of Ilirea, where King Esrafiel – King Evandar's sire – was slain."

Murtagh blinked. "He marched with the elves?" he said in wonder.

"Human though he may be, he had been changed sufficiently during his thirty-year bond with his dragon. If they matured fully – a hundred years, give or take – he would have been as strong and as fast as an elf and would have looked somewhat like me."

"Brom was driven by his vengeful thoughts," added Serylda. "While chaos and turmoil upturned the entire land, Brom began to go on his personal quest. He gathered many exiles, prisoners and other people to form the Varden, leading them for a few years before passing on the leadership to pursue his true objective and slay the Forsworn. He personally killed three – making use of the Spine to slay one – and was responsible for the deaths of three others."

Roran snorted. "We never knew that. He didn't even tell us, and he was there to see us off."

"Aside from the fact that Galbatorix does not publicize such facts to maintain appearances, you live so far from major cities that such rumors can barely reach your home," Nasuada pointed out. "But I didn't know that either. There are many secrets, even within the Varden itself."

Ash smiled wryly. "It does give you a very refreshing view on Brom, does it not?"

"It felt like we barely knew him," Murtagh noted. "I wish he could mention these things to us by himself."

"Why do elves never eat meat?" Eragon asked.

"Why should we?" Oromis kept an eye on a strawberry. "Everything we need or want can be sung from the plants – like our food. Only barbarians would make animals suffer to have more food on the table. You will understand before long."

"Humans and dwarves do not have the same capabilities as you," argued Katrina.

"And we will not begrudge them of your choice – like our dragons. Glaedr, Aegar and Brand do not inflict more pain than what is necessary. We make the most of what we have. Who and what you are born as cannot be changed."

"What about Islanzadi's swan feather cape?" insisted Murtagh.

Arya smiled. "I can answer that. It's made of loose feathers gathered over the course of many years. No bird was killed or harmed to make that cape."

After a few more instructions – including bathing, shaving and how to use the different amenities in their quarters, the Riders were released for the day.

Murtagh joined Thorn, and they took to the skies after thanking their new masters. Other dragons! Can you believe it? The red dragon's eyes twinkled.

More rivals for you when it comes to looking for mates.

Shut up. Thorn rolled his ruby eyes irritably. I will just have to work harder.

To catch the attention of… Solaris? Murtagh grinned.

Shut up.

Sorry for the boringly long exposition chapter which contains things that you already know, I wanted to delve a bit into Ash and Serylda's backstories. :)

Anyway, Roran will be getting a hammer during the Battle of the Burning Plains. I'm having a few ideas about it but none of them aren't ripe yet. And yes, Eragon will be "losing his sword" in a manner of speaking, but you will have to wait for the battle itself.

And as suggested, yes, "Alagaesia's New Dragon" is a good fic, but sadly it seems abandoned. :( I also love making references to the Inheritance Cycle, it's really fun to randomly make them pop up xD

We'll be having fun next chapter, so do read and review! I'll try to update fast again now that I'm finally settling in properly at my new job.