Illera and Murtagh spent all of their time together. It was impossible to find one of them without the other, and Ryan, Arya and Eragon had begun to say, when asking for them, if anyone knew where "Illera and Murtagh" were.

Arya could see the devastation that flitted through Vanir's features though, when he saw how happier Illera was, the pure devotion that the Riders shared, the depth of their relationship.

She could only watch as Vanir realized that he had never had a chance with Illera, that Murtagh had always been the only one she could love, that Vanir had only ever been a spar partner to her, watch as his cool elven composure was broken.

Her heart went out to him, even as the preparation for a new government was taking up most of the important figures' spare time. And Eragon was obsessing over the prophecy, because there was still the 'great journey' he would undertake, and never set foot in Alagaesia again. It was the only thing that he still did not understand in Angela's Prophecy.

But reports across the fallen Empire spoke of a disturbance in the land. It had begun at Helgrind; where the mountain exploded, covering Dras-Leona with lava that had taken days to cool. Hundreds had died, and the city become a ghost town as its residents fled.

Teirm also faced havoc, resulting from overly large waves crashing upon the beaches, so large that permanent flooding occurred. Many citizens packed up and moved inland.

But even inland wasn't safe.

A huge drought had struck, rendering entire swathes of farmland dry as a bone and infertile, and wild fires were occurring far too frequently.

It was almost as if the country was mourning Galbatorix's death.

Could that be? Eragon wondered. Had Galbatorix somehow struck a deal with the devil? After everything he had been through, it didn't seem quite so unlikely.

He had been poring over reports that had came in from all over the land, each saying the same thing—poverty and crime were at an all time high, trading and farming an all time low, and citizens were losing heart even with Galbatorix dead.

With the Varden victorious over the man, it was laughable at how they struggled now to regain control of the country.

Eragon rubbed his neck ruefully. Maybe it was a sign. But no matter, he would think on this later.

--

Two weeks later, the entire country was in a panic. Everything had worsened to ten times the effects—half of Teirm had been washed away, there was permanent ash hovering around the Dras-Leona area, there were raging fires on the plains and Farthen Dur had begun experiencing earthquakes.

Now, Eragon and Arya and Ryan had flown back to Ellesméra to research why everything was happening.

Illera and Murtagh had left with their dragons to explore Alagaesia, promising to return to Ellesmera when they had finished and to see the options left to them. It might have seemed selfish, but they were also going to see the full extent of the damage that was occurring. There was only so much that scrying could do.

And so, the war was still not over yet.

--

Illera slid off of Amira as they landed at Vroengard, taking a stand on a flat rocky outcropping to survey the island. Murtagh came to a stop beside her, sweeping his gaze around the Rider's ancient headquarters.

The place was in ruins, obviously, lost grandeur toying with the remains of the buildings—here are there the architecture was still beautiful, still regal, but for the most part completely destroyed. It was dead silent, and every one of their dragons' quiet huffs echoed unnaturally loudly.

His arm soon found itself wrapped around her shoulders as they made their way off of the rocks and down to the pavilion. Everywhere, there were evidence of carnage; broken eggshells, rusted bits of armor and even bones.

It was eerie, and Illera was glad for him beside her as they explored the place. There was a wide hall that Illera supposed was a sort of meeting place, a nest large enough for quiet a lot of dragons, Rider rooms and just about everything else.

Being there, seeing the history of everything that embodied her and her closest friends, it was incredible. And Illera suppressed a shiver when she realized that they would have lived here, would have been trained as normal Riders if the Fall had not occurred. It was impossible not to wonder. But she asked Murtagh a question about a different sort of fate.

"What do you think is happening to Alagaesia?" she murmured.

"I don't know," Murtagh answered, just as quietly, drawing her close. "But ever since Eragon told me his worries over his prophecy, I wonder what if this land becomes unsuitable for living? What do we do then?"

Illera didn't know, and they walked on.

--

Two weeks later, in Ellesmera, Eragon, Arya and Ryan still didn't have any idea why Alagaesia seemed to be destroying itself. But then, in the huge library, they had only been through about a third of it, even when they enlisted practically every other elf to help. It seemed like this was the first time the phenomenon had occurred in Alagaesia, and they were losing hope to find any information about it.

But still they went on.

And finally, when Eragon had already given up hope and was finishing his training with Oromis, an silver-haired elf he had never seen before approached. Oromis had gone into his hut.

"Shadeslayer," she greeted him, bowing deeply, and Eragon noticed the signs of extreme age on her face. This elf had to be ancient, for he had never seen one with the lines she bore. "Atra esterní ono thelduin."

"Mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr," Eragon said back, bowing slightly.

'Un du evarínya ono varda," she finished. "I am Glodiya. I have heard of the troubles that plague Alagaesia."

Eragon inclined his head, waiting for her to continue.

"I am one of the descendants of an elven advisor, who aided his leaders in leading the elves to Alagaesia, from their homeland. For hundreds of years, I and a group of others have dwelled in the depths of a secret maze of caves in Du Weldenvarden, guarding records of that time. No one else knows of their existence, and our decision to keep it as such was justified as Galbatorix overthrew the Riders. Save for us, no being knows why we left Alaea. But now, with the events occurring now bringing to mind what happened thousands of years ago, it is crucial that you come with me to read what my forefather wrote."

Eragon was rising. "Lead me to these records."

And now they were flitting through the forest, and it seemed so long until they stopped in front of a thick wall of slate. Both of them were perspiring slightly, even with their elven abilities.

Glodiya murmured something, and the center of the wall seemed to melt away, creating a doorway.
Eragon was taken aback at the inside of the cave. It was as if they had sung the rock—much like the rest of their race sung trees—into everything they needed; beds, chairs, anything.

"Shadeslayer," the elves inside immediately rose and bowed. Like Glodiya, they all bore signs of advanced age.

Eragon bowed slightly to them, showing respect for them. "Greetings," and he was soon made to sit.

Two elves disappeared, and came back a few minutes later carrying an engraved wooden box reverently, and set it on the table in front of Eragon.

With an inquiring look at Glodiya, who nodded, he lifted the lid.

--

The first of the sixth month, of the third year of His Majesty Feramore's reign,

Twisters rip through our carefully tended to farmland as if they were the flimsy paper dolls our children play with. Our food is destroyed—another crop lost, and dirt is discovered in every nook and cranny, here in the center of our land. To the west, our towns are destroyed by tornadoes of the sea, tearing up ages-old trees and flinging them every which way. People drown, and they are moving inland. To the east, it has not rained for so long that men drop dead of thirst and animals collapse in the heat. The earth is as dry as the fabled land without rain, and fires rage out of control daily. Smoke and ash are our constant companions.

As I write this, hundreds of us are seeking answers and solutions, ready to bring our families to a land that is habitable. Legend tells us that other races exist in other lands, and yet still of a place so glorious and beautiful, so lush and similar to our own. There are rumors of a race so dangerous, huge lizards as large as our mountains, wild and primitive, but now we are more and more willing to risk those monsters and live in their land instead of our own.

Oh Alaea, Alaea, why have you betrayed us so?

The twentieth of the sixth month, of the third year of His Majesty Feramore's reign,

It is unbearable. Our race must leave, or suffer the mass destruction that is guaranteed if we stay. Already, thousands are dead, and our lord is thinking of our options.

I must aid him.

The seventeenth of the seventh month, of the year of His Majesty Feramore's reign,

After much negotiating with the town leaders of Alaea, we have decided to leave our country, and go to the land of the dragons. We are building huge ships as we speak on the western coast, with every worker who builds receiving provisions, and a proficient worker receives more.

It is an effective way to create a building frenzy.

We know not how many will come with us, but it is looking like many hundreds. Our ships will need to be large enough to withstand the huge waves crashing upon our shores, and we do not know how many elves will need to reside in each.

I must go now.

The twenty-fourth of the eighth month of the year of His Majesty Feramore's reign,

It is done. Our ships are completed. Just in time, because our land seems to be completely desecrate now. We are boarding now, loading provisions, and will leave at the end of the month. The ships are huge; I feel big enough to house one of those 'dragons' that they speak of. But I have not been on one of our fleet yet.

The thirtieth of the eighth month of the year of His Majesty Feramore's reign,

We are at sea. It was quite an ordeal pushing out into deeper water until we caught wind, but we are making good time. Quite a few have caught seasickness, and I wonder how long the journey will be. Only vague tales guide us, yet we still are leaving our homeland. It shows how dire the situation is.

The second of the tenth month of His Majesty Feramore's reign,

Land has been spotted. After this poor voyage, with many dying of disease in these cramped quarters, we cannot wait to land in this new place. We do not know how far we have traveled, because the winds pushed us on and on, but from what we can see, the land looks only slightly similar to our own. No matter. If we must adapt by changing our entire lifestyles, we will.

That was the last entry.

Eragon looked up at Glodiya. "So they left for the same reasons that are occurring now."

She nodded. "It is unknown why this is happening, but it will continue to worsen. The only hope is for us to leave."

"Is that truly the only option?" Eragon asked, frown creasing his forehead.

"Whether or not you believe so, we will send word of this to both Islanzadi and King Orik. It is of too much importance, and if we continue to reference these records, we do not have enough time to take with us all of our history if we dawdle."

He nodded, understanding. "So we must make like the elves did? We must leave Alagaesia?"

Glodya hesitated before saying, "That possibility is growing more and more likely."

--

Illera frowned as she struggled through the town of Narda, to buy provisions. The town was empty, even as the gales of wind tore off another rooftop and water sloshed around her boots. It was early in the morning, and she shuddered to think that it would worsen in the later afternoon.

After searching the town, she returned to their makeshift camp and shook her head. There was no one to buy from.

Murtagh frowned, and they took off amidst the hurricane like winds, flying desperately to their next destination: Teirm.

When they got there a few days later, having been hunting the whole time, it was gone.

Simply gone.

Disappeared.

And the waves crashed down upon where so many buildings had once stood…

--

Eragon returned to Oromis' glade to tell him, Arya and Ryan of his discovery.

"Is this it then? The fulfilling of your prophecy, and we are to leave our homes—the only home we have known?" Ryan asked.

"It seems like it," Eragon murmured. "We must wait for Murtagh and Illera's report on the state of all the towns."

"Do you think she will return safely?" Arya asked, and the use of 'she', not 'them' rang out harshly. It was obvious that she didn't like Murtagh, and perhaps didn't think that he cared for Illera.

"I do," Eragon said evenly. "I think they will return safely. Murtagh wouldn't let anything happen to her, and she is too smart for anything to get close to them."

Arya turned away, lips pressing into a thin line, and abruptly said, "I am going to begin packing," and left.

Ryan threw a look at Eragon. "You do know why she disapproves of the man right?"

"Why?" Eragon asked, running his hand through his hair and exhaling. He still considered Murtagh the same comrade he had been throughout their journey to the Varden.

"Because of Vanir," Ryan said. "You didn't see him when he realized that Illera is completely besotted with Murtagh. The look on his face was devastation."

Eragon sighed. "That cannot be helped. Now, I think I must take Glodiya and her documents back to Uru'baen, where the leaders are, and explain," he rose and began to repack his belongings.

Ryan nodded. "Hurry."

--

And now, Eragon's work in relaying the message done, he and Glodiya sat back to wait for the leader's decision.

"Could we not simply move across the Hadarac Desert? Must we leave Alagaesia entirely?" Orik asked.

"Yet who is to say that across the Desert such things aren't happening as well? No one has been across or seen it and be able to scry it," Islanzadi said, her features visibly upset. Both she and Orik were very reluctant to grasp this idea because it would require immense effort to take all of their history with them.

Eragon didn't say anything.

Another of the Council members asked, "How long do we have until the land becomes too disrupted?" The Council was pushing to stay, believing that it was a phase that would soon pass. Orik and Islanzadi knew though, however much they didn't want it to be true, that history always repeated itself and they should keep that in mind.

"According to these reports, I believe we have a week to decide what to do. After that, preparations must be completed within three fortnights and we must leave."

"We will confer," Islanzadi sighed and they continued the debate.

--

Eragon already knew what they would say as Jormundur stood to announce to the city that Alagaesia's entire population would have to be shepherded onto giant ships, live on the ship for god-knows-how-long and sent to god-knows-where. His words were met only by a stunned silence and he continued with his details.

It had been decided that the elves would begin singing slabs of wood into shape and dwarves and humans would then put them together on the coast off of Surda.

And now, with that decided, he and Glodiya were going back to Ellesmera to begin proceedings.

--

Thorn's wings beat strongly, pumping the ash that hovered in the wind away from their group. Murtagh and Illera had decided on Dras-Leona for their next destination, and then they would be heading towards the Beor mountains afterwards.

From on their dragon's backs, the Riders surveyed the damage.

The area was completely filled with charcoal-covered cinders. Helgrind's lava had cooled days ago, and half of Dras-Leona was covered in the thick-concrete like mixture, sucking anything that hadn't gotten away fast enough into it.

Illera looked away, not wanting to look at the sight anymore, and Murtagh's eyes raked through the landscape thoroughly before the group left, thinking that the situation was so much more dire than they had thought.

--

Looking at around three chapters left for this damn story. I cannot wait until I mark this complete. Hate it, yeah, I do. Hate my earlier writings. Hate the huge drawn out ness of it. Hate that Chris P's writing ability seems to have diminished with Brisingr.

End rant.

Review replies:

Jackbyang7: Haha I seem to have found that out : ).

..thorns.09: Thanks : )