True to his word, Oromis pushed Eragon harder in all areas of study, in the uses of magic, history of Alagaesia and above all the duties of a Dragon Rider. Through this difficult training Eragon never once tried to back away from the challenges the Old Elf gave him, when he was asked to stop streams of water with magic Eragon did. When Oromis questioned Eragon's attitude to the Urgals, a species that Eragon had grown to despise, the young Rider listened to the Elf's views.

'You cannot judge the Urgals for what they are' Oromis told him, 'they are born and raised for war, bloodlust is ingrained in their very skin'.

'I hold no sympathy for those murderers' Eragon retorted stiffly.

'And what did you do to the hundreds of Urgals that you slaughtered during your battle in Farthen Dûr? You became a murderer yourself' Oromis said, his eyes thin at his pupils hatred, 'the Urgals fight because they desire a home to call their own, and you kill them to protect yours. I do not judge you for this, but when you try and say you are the victim I cannot help but call you a hypocrite'.

Eragon bit his tongue at his master's harsh words, but his anger at the horned race did not leave him, perhaps it was ingrained in his mind but he could not forget the horrific sights he had caught the Urgals committing.

From dawn until dusk, Eragon would sit with his master and hear his words, Oromis never asked Eragon to change his views or opinions of a person, but they still began to shift. The more Eragon meditated on the tree stump away from the noise of Ellesméra the more sensitive Eragon came in regards to life and how fragile it was, and when Saphira would offer to take him hunting the more he declined. At night, when the blue Dragon had fallen into blissful dreams Eragon would lie awake by her side wondering how he would fight and kill as dispassionately as he had done before, he wouldn't just be fighting Urgals, Eragon knew that at some point he would face his own kind, sons, fathers, men who were loved, whose families would wonder where they had gone when they had been felled by his blade or Saphira's unrelenting fire.

But Eragon did not allow these thought to fester, to consume his mind as his other anxieties had done, when Saphira found her Rider yawning heavily on her back one morn, Eragon laid bare his worries and his quaking reluctance to become a slayer of his own people. The blue Dragon did not speak with condescending words, she did not lie to him, she spoke clearly to him.

'If they do not die, then we will die. Our friends, our allies shall perish. I know it is a grim burden Little One, but it is one we have to carry if this war is to be fought. You fear that you will become numb to the killing, that you may come to enjoy such an action, but I know you will not Little One' Saphira told him in her ever calming, soothing voice, 'you will not become that man, because those types of men never doubt their actions, they sleep undisturbed because they held no morals to guide them, you cannot become like them Eragon because it is not in your nature'.

Oromis too sensed his student's restless state as they sat together whilst Eragon practised his runic shaping. 'As a Rider there are times when you must resort to violence, and to take a life must only be considered when all over options have been expended. But Eragon, that is not what all entails for a Dragon Rider, we can take up other mantles, other lifestyles that may never be filled with death'.

'What do you mean master?' Eragon asked with intrigue.

With a smile Oromis answered, 'I have trained many a Rider, all had to learn about the mainstay of what it is to be a Dragon Rider, but many chose other roles. Some became scholars, their lives dedicated to scriptures and the higher mysteries of the Ancient language. Others, whose hearts were kind and gentle, followed the teachings of healings, roaming the land and aiding those who were sick or befallen by curses both magical and natural in making. A handful of my students became inspired by my own following and took to raising the next generation of Riders, instructing them in the same subject I teach you now. What you choose to become is your decisions alone and I shall respect that and aid you in any way that I can'.

'What do you think Saphira?' the young Rider said, overwhelmed by his choices.

'Roaming the land sounds enjoyable' the Blue Dragon hummed, 'I would think being a healer would suit you Little One, if only because its lifestyle would give you some peace'.

'What kind of training would I have to undertake to become a healer?' Eragon asked, confident in Saphira's judgement and insight of himself.

If possible Oromis's smile grew, 'there are some word variations for certain sensitive diseases and plagues, and you would have to read very thoroughly into the history of certain areas in Alagaesia, some settlements have never looked kindly at magic while others are fearful of its effects. Other than that there are no tests or a trial, the world is always in need of healers and as such we only ask that you do not abuse the trust placed upon you by those who require your healing'.

Eragon nodded in complete understanding, his eyes wide in anticipation as he soaked up the words of his teacher who began to lecture him on the fundamentals of being a healer.

From that day onwards, Eragon worked parallel in his studies, his time spread between learning the arduous practise of healing and the burdens of being a Rider.

Nearly two months had passed from the Blood oath celebration, and much had changed for the young Rider, his studies had consumed much of his time, but it had been worth the toil. As instructed by Oromis, Eragon had begun to scry the lands of Alagaesia and the people he knew. For the most part his inspection had never turned up anything worrying, the Dwarves in Tonjheim still worked and scurried around like a ant's nest, Carvahall lay abandoned, its wooden structures burnt to the ground though from further searching Eragon was able to find Roran and Elain safe. Unfortunately, scrying Arya or Angela proved a harder task, both were warded from such magic.

Today however was different, instead of scrying either woman, Eragon chose a different person, Nasuada.

Muttering the ancient words into his pool of water, Eragon was gifted with a clear image of the dark skinned woman looking down at a map, her surrounding were enshrouded in a dark, thick fog signalling it was a place Eragon had never seen.

'You must make a choice King Orrin, the Empire's army is only days away from us and we must have but one commander, anymore and our forces will be too divided' Nasuada said to a figure covered in fog, Eragon presumed that this was the King of Surda, Orrin.

'If I must choose daughter of Ajihad, then it will be you' the figure proclaimed, his voice distorted but still audible for the Rider.

'Sire, you cannot instruct our force to a child!' another foggy silhouette cried out, only to be silenced by the cloudy king.

'Be quiet! Nasuada has seen more battle that you have Irwin' the King lambasted, 'well Nasuada, what would you have us do?'

The young lady sighed with tiredness, 'we can do little, without the Dwarves or Eragon we can only hope to hold the line. Arya have you tried to contact him?'

A distorted figure emerged from the suffocated blackness, although Eragon could not make out the expression on her face it was unquestionable Arya, her lithe figure and the fuzzy bandanna wrapped around her head were only features she possessed.

'He is in Ellesméra, the wards there block any kind of communication, including scrying' the Elf answered with a dull voice.

'Do you not have a mirror created to bypass such wards?' Nasuada countered.

A pregnant silence filled the room before Arya spoke again, 'it was damaged on my travel back to Surda Nasuada' Arya answered with a hint of annoyance mixed in her voice.

'Well there is little point in doubting each other' Orrin argued, 'we must look to our plans and decide what is best, now where is that list of supplies? Ah thank you Irwin'.

Eragon listened for a few more minutes but found the discussion more dull and pointless than useful. With a flick of his hand, the picture was dispersed and the Rider left the bowl rushing to Saphira who lay on her cushioned platform.

'We must go to Oromis' Eragon told the Dragon as he raced up her flank and to her saddle.

'Why? Did you see something of interest? Saphira questioned.

'The Empire's army is closing in on the Varden!' Eragon exclaimed, 'we must go to Oromis and tell him'.

At her Rider's words, Saphira's wings increased in pace as they rushed towards Oromis's wooden hut.

.

'You knew!' Eragon yelled with fury at his master, the Elf sitting leisurely against his hut.

'I did' the Elf admitted nonchalantly, 'but I would not tell you if I did not believe you ready'.

'You didn't tell me!' the young Rider cried out with anger, his rage boiling, 'I only found out from my own luck, if I hadn't looked today the Varden may well have been slaughtered'.

'They still could be' Oromis countered, 'what shall you do about it?'

'I am going to aid them, I will fight the Empire by their side' Eragon growled, his hands wound tightly.

'So you are willing to kill? Are you ready for that? Are you prepared to become the symbol of a war, the rallying cry for thousands?' Oromis asked critically, his eyes shooting straight into the young Rider's eyes.

'I…' Eragon's voice faltered, only moments ago he was willing to leap to the Varden's aid, but now his mind had caught up with current events and the consequences of what could happen if he intervened. 'I am ready, if I do not go then any hopes of defeating Galbatorix dies with the Varden'.

'Those hopes would die if you were to perish, have you considered that?' Oromis said, his questions driving further doubt into Eragon.

'He will not die as long as I am by his side' Saphira told the Elf, her mind stabbing straight through his barriers.

'So you are willing to throw away your lives for this cause? What if you are not ready, your training is hardly complete' Oromis responded.

'I will not let the Varden die!' Eragon cried out, 'if I am ever to be free, then I will need the Varden, if Alagaesia is ever to live without Galbatorix then it will need the Varden. I know I must kill, but I do so with the knowledge that it is to better the lives of others!'

Oromis's frown began to shift into a small warm smile, 'good' he said simply, 'you still doubt yourself young Rider, but your passion, this spark of humanity that rests within you burns brightly. You are ready'. With that Oromis stood from his stool and returned to his hut briefly before returning with a wine red scabbard, 'if you are to fight Rider, then you must carry your sword'.

Tentatively, Eragon approached the Old Elf, his left hand shaking as it reached out for the neck of the blood red blade. When his fingers where but only a hair's breadth away Eragon stopped.

'Saphira… am I ready?' he whispered.

'No one is Little One' Saphira told him, 'but we must go, do not fear or worry about what could happen, we are masters of our own fate'.

Encouraged by Saphira's words Eragon's finger wrapped firmly around the blade's scabbard and he pulled it away from the Elf.

'Go Eragon, Queen Islanzadi and Rhunön both have gifts they wish to pass to you before you leave, and do not forget your dwarven companions, they too would wish to travel with you. When you are prepared return to me' Oromis instructed, Eragon nodded and clambered back up Saphira's side before they both leapt into the sky and darted back towards the Elven Capital.

Fortune seemed to favour Eragon, when he landed in his tree home he was greeted by the sight of both Dwarves talking in Maria's room. Saphira left as soon as she had deliver Eragon and rushed off to find a quick meal to sate her appetite for the journey to come.

'What's the rush Rider?' Orik said as Eragon ran into the room, disrupting whatever conversation they were having.

'The Varden is under threat of attack' the Rider explained quickly, 'I will ride to their aid, before I do, I must know if you will join me'.

The bald Dwarf pounded his hand to his chest with a renewed sense of energy, 'aye I will, my time here in Ellesméra has done nothing but fatten me, it will be good to do battle once more!'

'Where you go Eragon I am bound to follow' Maria told the Rider, her tone and expression showing a grim determination that made Eragon stop for a moment.

'You are no warrior Maria, I would not ask you to join me on the battlefield' Eragon said, offering the Dwarf an alternative.

'Nay, I may not be able to fight but I can still aid you and the others around me' Maria replied, rebuking Eragon's offer.

A brief chuckle erupted from Orik, 'spoken like a true dwarf, you honour your clan lassie', the bald dwarf then turned to the Rider, 'I must fetch mine possessions, I shall meet you back here within the hour'. With that, Orik shot up from his stool and raced away as fast as his short legs could carry him.

'I will prepare as well' Maria added, 'go I will pack your things as well'. The female dwarf then shooed Eragon out of her room, a small smile tugging on both of their faces despite the seriousness of the situation that would soon befall them both.

'To Rhunön then?' Eragon asked Saphira as he joggled out of the wooden structure and back into the dazzling natural lights of Ellesméra.

'If you wish, though try and be gracious with what she wants to give you' Saphira advised whilst also reminding him of the route to the Elven smith's home.

Eragon snorted at the Dragon's comments, 'I doubt grovelling would improve her mood' he said dryly, his retort earning him naught but a groan from the dragon as he weaved and dodged through the maze of trees and Elves that blocked his path to Rhunön. The Rider's quick pacing slowed as his eyes spotted the wooden structure that marked the home of the Elven crafter.

Trudging down the leaf covered tunnel, Eragon pondered where Rhunön was. Emerging from the narrow passage into the main room of the Elf's forge the Rider noticed a drastic change to what he had seen months ago. The room was now filled with several different sketches, some looking depicting a figure that was almost skeletal in nature, while others contained an inside look of chainmail chest with leather on its fore and back. Near the forge, whose fire was now roaring with heat, stood a large figure draped in a grey heavy cloth, concealing its true image.

'What are you doing here?' A rusty, angered voice said, startling Eragon form his inspection of the area.

Turning to face the croaky voice Eragon found a disgruntled Rhunön looking back at him, her scowl still ever-present.

'Rhunion svit-kona, my master has told me you wish to give me something before I leave Ellesméra, I was hoping that I may retrieve this gift' Eragon said in what he hoped sounded like a humble and non-presumptuous voice.

'Bah! I told Arya that fickle words done nothing to stir my favour, I do not understand why you continue to try such tactics' the old Elven smith grumbled as he walked over to her forge, her hand rubbing over the grey cloth before looking back at Eragon.

'My gift is not finished' the Elf told him, 'but it should suffice for one battle'. Rhunön then gripped the cloth and ripped it away, revealing the armoured mannerkin below.

Eragon now understood the skeletal drawings that hung above as he gazed at the chestpeice, thin silver metal plates bolted on a scorched black leather tunic in an almost rib like fashion, the plates growing bigger as they progressed upwards, at the bottom of the neck was a small V though the sides rose abruptly to create a stiff collar. Silver chainmail sprouted from the biceps of the armour, the leather giving way to metal though it soon stopped at the forearms where there lay more silver metal in the form of two vambraces while the hands were protected with more black leather. The leggings were far more devoid of metal, with only a single thin metal strip running down the mid joint to the bottom of the leg. The boots too were made of the same black leather that made up the rest of the armour, and some metal had been grafted to them too, a main strip running from the toes to the base of the foot with tree symmetrical smaller strips splitting off down each side of the foot.

'It's beautiful' Eragon muttered as his eyes studied the master crafted armour.

'To your eyes perhaps' Rhunön retorted, 'I tarried too long on decided what to do with the legs, that in the end I could do nothing. The enchantments are rushed, I doubt that they will hold for long, and judging from your right arm you will not be able to even wear that part of the armour'.

'I would still wear this armour' Eragon argued, though he shivered from the cold glare the Elf gave him, 'that is if you will allow me to' he said in a quieter voice.

Rhunön sighed, her hand rubbing her forehead, 'you can wear it Rider, after all I promised it to you, but I want it returned to me so that I can finish it'.

The Rider nodded, agreeing to anything so that he could have the armour.

'Go then, take it and begone' Rhunön said, waving her hand lazily before retreating through the door she came from.

It was obvious as Eragon put on the armour that Rhunion had created armour set on the basis of layers, the chest having an interior leather base, a chainmail center and a leather exterior that mounted the skeletal silver metal, and this concept continued down the arms, where the interior leather formed the sleeves and cushioned from any friction that the vambraces would Rider also learnt that the back of the chest was compose of four metal plates, two attached to each of his upper back that seemed to move with his shoulders while another two thinner plates were fitted to his lower back. However to accommodate for his right arm, Eragon was forced to abandon the right glove and vambrace and to roll the left sleeve up past the heavy bandages and runic stones.

Pulling the boots and leggings on, the Rider was surprised by the lack of any heaviness that the armour should have possessed, in fact Eragon's only complaint was how tight the armour was, Rhunön's measurements were too precise it seemed. Collecting his Elven clothing, that he was forced to strip from to fit into the armour, and the spare vambrace and glove. Eragon knocked on Rhunön's door, intent on thanking the stubborn Elf.

'What do you want?!' The Elf swore as she burst through the door after Eragon's third knock.

'I just wanted to thank you' Eragon admitted quickly, startled by how loud and angry Rhunön could become.

'What for? I promised I'd craft your armour and I have, if anything you should feel angered that I have not finished to a high enough standard' Rhunön mused.

'You judge yourself to harshly Rhunön' Eragon countered, 'you have spent your own time making this armour for no reward, and this armour is of a high standard, I cannot even think of a finer set, and I have seen the golden armour worn by the Dwarven king'.

'Perhaps you do not understand Rider, but I will never by satisfied with this armour, I envisaged so much more from it' Rhunön retorted, 'I still have much to learn when it comes to making armour' Rhunön explained to the Rider.

'Then I am at least happy that I have aided you in mastering your skill in armour forgery by giving you this challenge' Eragon said, changing his line of thought to fit the cynical Elf's thinking.

The scowl that adorned Rhunön's face softened a fraction, 'I suppose you have'.

Finally satisfied that Rhunön had been thanked, Eragon turned to leave the Elf in peace, only for her to call back, 'avoid stabs and piercing weaponry, I had to sacrifice such protection to give you ease of movement and to free up weight'.

Eragon shot the old Elf a grateful smile and nodded before racing off to his final person on his list.

'That boy had better live' Rhunön muttered to herself as she watched Eragon leave, 'if only so I can I show him a proper set of armour'.

Find the Queen of the Elves was a much harder task for Eragon than he thought it would be, first he checked her home at Tialdarí hall with no success. Next was the Royal court, yet that too held a similar result with even the passing Elf in the area unable to provide the Rider with so much as a vague hint. Time too was not on Eragon's side and the allotted hour he had been given was running short.

'You should return Eragon, we are going to be late if you continue to tarry' Saphira advised as her Rider continued his frantic search.

Eragon slowed as Saphira's words before reluctantly agreeing with the dragon, turning he began to sprint back towards his home. Numerous trees shot past the Rider's vision as he ran around them, the sight proving to be quite jarring for Eragon though he stomached the feeling, if only because he held no desire to throw up on the forest floor.

Finally the valley of trees ended and Eragon entered an open glade, one that was familiar to the Rider.

'This can't be' Eragon muttered to himself, his movement shuddering to a halt. Looking to his right, Eragon saw a small tree flanked by larger studier ones, the Rider knew that this tree had replaced the one he had thrown the Elven guardian into. This was the only visible sign of when he had succumbed to the Spirit, the only time he had given into his anger.

'It's not the only sign' the Rider told himself, his eyes now resting on his right arm. 'I was such an idiot' Eragon whispered, clenching his cloth wrapped fingers tightly.

'You were' Saphira agreed 'to use one of Arya's preferred phrases you were a fool'.

Eragon nodded in agreement to what Saphira was saying.

'But at least you acknowledge it' Saphira added, 'some men would hide away from their actions, denying it or justifying their crimes so that they gain some sort of moral superiority. You may not think it Eragon, but there is strength in admitting your mistakes and regretting your actions'.

'Is it worth the sacrifice though?' the Rider asked, 'wouldn't it be better if I had you lack of remorse, I cannot be a Rider if I constantly doubt my own actions'.

'No' Saphira told him swiftly, 'it is good that you dislike violence and death, if you shared my apathy then you would lose yourself, I only continue to live because of you Eragon, your mind anchors my own'.

'Perhaps you are right' Eragon said, though he was unconvinced,'but there is little point in arguing now, I will be there shortly'.

'Hurry then' Saphira warned before pulling away from Eragon's mind slightly.

Giving the surrounding field one last look, Eragon turned around intending to return to his blue Dragon and his companions. Though when the Rider faced the heavy trees behind him he found he was staring directly at the Queen of the Elves.

'Your Majesty' Eragon stuttered as he backed away from the towering Elf, whose stare still struck the core of the Rider.

'Shur'tugal' Islanzadi greeted, inclining her head slightly, 'I have been informed that are leaving us, it would have pained me to see you leave without saying goodbye'.

Eragon nodded numbly, still surprised that the Queen had been able to stalk up behind him.

'But that is not my only reason that I wish to see you' the Elf continue, not deterred by the Rider's silence, 'I would provide you with two gifts, one old and one new'.

Islanzadi turned her head to her side and gestured with her hand, causing two Elven servants to approach, one hold a large wooden box in both of her hands, while the other held a much smaller box in a single hand.

'This old gift is one that you are familiar with' Islanzadi explained as the smaller box was opened to reveal a ring with a blue gem at its center, it was Aren.

'But I thought I was no longer Vinr Älfakyn?' Eragon whispered as he looked at the blue ring, its jewel shining brightly in the daylight.

'I convened my court last night to discuss the matter, they agreed unanimously to restore your status among us' Islanzadi told him, dismissing his earlier doubt. Deftly, the Elven Queen picked the ring out of the cushioned box and held her hand out, silently asking for the Rider's hand.

'Last night? I only knew I would be leaving today' Eragon said critically while also making no indication that he would give the Queen his hand.

'You are correct, but I learnt of your departure many nights ago' Islanzadi explained, a white crow landing on her shoulder as she spoke. Eragon eyed the crow for several moments, the bird repeating the action towards the Rider before its beak opened wide and shrieked.

'Wydra!'

'Silence Blagden!' Islanzadi demanded, her voice echoing through the field. Only when the faint sound of her reverberations fell quiet did the Queen speak again.

'Come Rider take your gifts, you are already running short of time'.

With a critical eye, Eragon extended his left hand and allowed the Elven monarch to slip Aren onto his ring finger. As the cold steel found its resting place on his hand, Eragon felt a pulse of energy flow through his body, using his mind Eragon poked at the ring and found the blue gem playing host to a storm of stored energy, the likes of which Eragon could faithfully compare to anything else.

'What?' Eragon muttered to himself as he raised the ring to his eye, the glint that the elven stone gave off proving to be just as mesmerising as it had been the first time the Rider had seen it.

'You forget that the ring fell into my possession' the Queen said, drawing the Rider's attention back to her, 'I have added what I could to the energy already stored inside Aren'.

'I…I cannot accept this' Eragon muttered weakly, 'surely this would be better in your hands'.

'It might, but I wish for you to have it Eragon' Islanzadi rebutted gently.

Rather than argue with the Elven monarch, Eragon stayed silent and lowered his hand, a small part of him happy to have regained his old teacher's ring.

Islanzadi then moved to the Elven servant holding the larger wooden box and opened it, her back hiding its content until she turned, her feathery mantle swirling around majestically as she revealed a long bow ornate with leaf patterns and silver tips, a quiver of white feathered arrows rested in a similarly blackened sheath and a long but thin dagger was tied to its side.

'It is tradition in Ellesméra for an Elf's first bow to be sung by their parents, a ritual we long practised before our pact with the Dragons' Islanzadi said to the Rider as she approached him, 'you are neither an Elf, nor do you have any parents. I fear that I may be too presumption on my part, but if you would, I would gift you this bow'. The Queen then held out bow and its quiver to Eragon.

Eragon looked from the bow to the Queen and his face twitched, he needed no explanation of who created this bow, nor the implications that Islanzadi had made by offering the bow to him. Normally the Rider would have doubted what he would do, whenever he saw consequences he would take time to think before he acted, but there was no choice here, not after what the Elven Queen had done for him.

Without any hesitation Eragon reached out and took the offered items from Islanzadi's hands, taking the quiver and its strap and placing it over his chest whilst holding onto the bow, the wood warm to the touch.

'Thank you' Eragon said, his voice cracking as he ran a bandaged finger over the engravings adorned on the bow.

A strong hand gripped his shoulder making the Rider look upwards to see the king face of the Elven Monarch looking at him, 'do not thank me Eragon, just return safely. That is all I ask'.

Before Eragon could say a word, or even show his reaction on his face, Islanzadi turned and strode away, her two servants following wordlessly. The Rider watched as the Elven Queen disappeared among her forest until she disappeared in its enshrouding darkness, only when she was out of sight did Eragon haphazardly rub away the tears that threatened to spill out of his eyes. Now was not the time for crying the Rider concluded before he pulled the bow in his hands around his arm and then he sprinted out of the clearing and towards his friends.

'Will you be able to manage the flight with all of us?' Eragon asked Saphira as they shot towards the crags. The Rider was not talking about their current flight, no, it would be the one to Surda that his mind was set on.

'Of course I can manage' Saphira scoffed, 'your faith in my strength is almost offensive'.

'So you won't need to rest at all then?' Eragon challenged, his words causing Saphira to backtrack.

'I didn't say that' the Dragon groaned, 'fine… I will need to stop a few times before we reach Surda'.

Eragon chuckled at his Dragon's misery, even as he slid down from her paw to walk to his master a smirk remained plastered on his face.

'Good, you have returned' Oromis said to Eragon, 'your time in Ellesméra had drawn to a close, but before you leave I have one more think I would pass onto you'.

'Of course Master' Eragon answered, his dwarven companions looking to each other before shrugging and following the two Riders as they walked away from Oromis's hut and towards the towering trees behind it.

'Watch carefully' Oromis instructed as he raised his hand, his Gedwëy insignia signing brightly, 'Brisinger!'

At the Elf's command a ball of fire was summoned from thin air near the forest, the flames licking greedily at the trees but it was unable to catch on the green leaves. Seconds soon became minutes as the ball of fire began to grow, eventually the Elven Rider moved his hand away from the trees, the large ball of fire following his hand.

Eventually Eragon grew concerned at what his Master was doing and he raised his own hand, intending to snuff out the flames himself, though he was a second too late as Oromis closed his hand a moment later, the now massive ball of fire that exceeded even the trees dying out.

'Why did you do such a thing?' Eragon asked Oromis as the Elf turned to him, showing no signs of magical fatigue.

'To show you that your own energy is not the only source you may draw from' the old Rider answered cryptically.

'What do you mean?' The Rider said, still confused with what Oromis had done.

'Look Eragon' Oromis said, his hands gesturing around him.

When Eragon's eyes rested on the surrounding area he finally released what his master had done. Before, the trees were green and lush with life, small insects skittering around the craggy earth, even flakes of grass had been able to grow in the more stable parts of the land. Now it was all dead, the plants having turned to a dead brown and the sound of the small life forms having ceased.

'It's all dead, why would you do such a thing?' Eragon said to the Elf, his devastation at the meaningless death obvious in his fluctuating voice.

'So that you know the power you can wield holds a price' Oromis told him, 'hopefully you do not need to use this method to fuel your spells, but if you see no other alternative you may draw the energy from other life, include from those who are dying'.

'I would never use such a technique!' Eragon spat, his disgust at the results of Oromis spell still evident.

'And I hope that you don't' Oromis responded patiently, 'but when you have been fighting for hours on end you your stores of energy will be low, this skill can help you survive Eragon, do not look too harshly on its drawback, its benefits may just save your life'.

Breathing deeply Eragon nodded, trying to push his own opinions away and instead focus on the fact that his Master was just trying to aid him.

'Good' Oromis smiled, 'now I would provide my own gifts to you'. The Old Elf then retreated to his home and came back out with a flask in one hand and what looked like a belt in another, a faded piece of cloth wrapped around its front.

'This flask contains Faelnirv, though it is not alcoholic its taste is unaltered and it will restore your energy and sate any hunger you may have. Drink sparingly from it' Oromis warned, 'I could only make a small amount'.

Eragon took the metal container and removed the lid, smelling the fruity substance, 'thank you master' Eragon said to Oromis.

'That is not all Eragon' Oromis told his student, his fingers carefully unwrapping the worn cloth that clung to the belt. When the cloth came undone and fell to the ground Oromis was left with a belt adorned with twelve magnificent diamond, several of them were black and white, while the remainder were a mix of red, brown and yellow stones.

'This is the belt of Beloth the Wise' Oromis explained to the wide eyed Eragon, 'for centuries Riders have hunted and traded for these diamonds. As you know precious stones provide a good source to store power, and these diamonds provide an almost unlimited amount of space for power'.

'Some of those are Dwarven stones' Orik pointed out, 'I remember stories of Dragon Riders bartering with mine people for our most immaculate jewels, I see now what the end result of those deals were'.

'The result was one of the most precious of Dragon Rider artefacts' Oromis told the Dwarf, 'and Eragon shall wear it'.

'No I cannot!' Eragon yelped, startling those around him, 'this gift is too much, what if it was lost, or the diamonds were shattered. I cannot bear being the harbinger of such destruction'.

'Eragon' Oromis said in a calm but firm voice, 'this belt was meant to be used by a Dragon Rider, whether for battle or diplomacy, it was designed for members of our Order. You cannot break it by some unfortunate accident'.

'But I…' Eragon began, only for his voice to die in his throat from the stare the Elf was giving him, challenging him to find a good reason to retract his gift.

'Take the belt Shadeslayer' Oromis instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument.

'How many treasures do I now possess?' Eragon asked Saphira weakly as he began the task of replacing his old plain belt with that of jewelled belt.

'They are not treasures Little One, they are tools' Saphira corrected him.

With his new gifts either stored away or tied to his person, Eragon turned to his Master one final time.

'When you came here several months ago you held doubts' Oromis said, 'you doubted whether Saphira was correct in her choice, you doubted that your abilities and skills would be enough, worst of all you doubted your own self-worth'.

At the Elf's words, Saphira began to growl from behind Eragon, her anger at Oromis's words was hidden from no one.

'I see now that these doubts cannot be taken away from you as easily as I thought' the Old Rider continued, ignoring the blue Dragon's rumbling, 'but even if your doubts still plague your mind, know this Eragon, you are a Dragon Rider and you are one of the most determined Riders I have the honour of training. All I ask of you is to remember what I have trained you, and to not stray from it'.

'I will not forget Master' Eragon promised.

'That is all a teacher can ask of his student' Oromis said with a small satisfied smile, 'when you leave here Eragon you will be unable to control your movements as freely as you may wish, even still if you can find the time you should return to finish your training'.

'If I can I will' Eragon told his Master.

'Atra esterní ono thelduin, Eragon Shur'tugal' Oromis said in the ancient language

'Farewell Master' Eragon replied, bowing his head low to the Elf who had taught him so much in the past six months.

Nothing else was said, there was nothing to say. Eragon walked back to Saphira and jumped up her paw to her saddle. With one final glance, Eragon looked to the old Elf and the golden Dragon who sat by his Rider, the young Rider raised his left hand and waved weakly before Saphira turned and fell from the cliff, her wings spreading quickly and being flapped rapidly, soon the Dragon soared upwards and shot out and away from the crags of Crags of Tel'naeír.

Just as Saphira had reached the edges of Ellesméra, Eragon felt a behemoth of a consciousness rub against his mental walls, one that he had felt before.

'Stay safe Little Rider' Glaedr grumbled once Eragon's had lowered his walls, 'conflict can create scars that are not visible to the eye, you do well to guard your heart'.

Eragon had no time to respond to the golden dragon as he soon withdrew from his mind once he had given his message, one that had troubled the Rider more than comforted him.

A/N:

Nothing much to say that isn't filler really, I hoping to get the next chapter out slightly earlier but other than that nothing to say.

Until chapter 26, cya.