"And that's my report." Vulcan nervously looked into the mirror. The person on the other side had a grim look on his face as he regarded Vulcan's statement.

"Three shades at the same time, and… even more where they rescued the boy?" The young man, a cross between human and elf rubbed a callused hand through his brown hair, turning slightly to regard his blue dragon before turning back to Vulcan. "And that boy… he turned to a shade, but, is conscious now, with his personality mostly normal, and with no magic, or drive to kill other people."

"Yes." Vulcan said, "But they want to keep him separated from his parents, isolated to determine whether he's actually sound of mind and spirit. Eragon-Elda, what should we do?"

Eragon sighed, "We can't do much. The boy's eyes and hair are red and glow supernaturally, and his skin is pale, pale as a corpse. Anyone seeing him would think he was a shade, and I can't risk you endangering yourself." Eragon crossed his arms, "What is the state of the city?"

"Luckily the damage is mostly superficial, it will take them maybe a week to fix, and the deaths can only total to a few hundred. Still a tragic loss, but comprised mostly of soldiers and volunteers defending key parts of the city."

"Were we able to interrogate any of the attackers?"

"Unfortunately, not, most killed themselves before being captured, and the few who were captured had blank minds."

Eragon looked in deep thought, before muttering, "Trianna…"

"Sir?"

"She wasn't… she wasn't a friend, and I can't say we were particularly close, but we both believed in the Varden, and in defeating Galbatorix, she was an ally who shared her mind with me to defeat Galbatorix's enemy mages." After a few more seconds he looked at Vulcan with a sad smile. "Sorry about this friend."

"No sir, it isn't trouble." Vulcan saluted, "At the moment, the peoples' morals are the most important, I'll remain and put on a positive attitude, at least all the way through the games."

"Thank you." Eragon smiled. "How is Orik?"

"My cousin… well, he's remained king. But the Dûrgrimst az sweldn rak Anhûin and Dûrgrimst Quan both call for his abdication. It's one thing when the clan that swears vengeance against all dragons is against you, but the religious order is the backbone of the Dwarves' culture. The mounting pressure is slowly strangling Orik's choices." He looked down.

"…Speak, you have something to say." Eragon smiled, his handsome features giving him an angelic appearance.

"Well… if you merely returned... Saphira is honored as the one who fixed and enhanced our great treasure the Isidar Mithrim. While it wouldn't fully quell their anger, they will be less vocal against Orik, as it was your coronation gift to fix it. And you are the one who slew the oath breaker."

Eragon smiled sadly, "I will return, but I can't, not yet. Not enough of the dragons are hatching, And the wild dragons who are hatching are rowdy, even Saphira is having trouble getting them in line. They fight each other more often than they go hunting." He sighed and Vulcan could see the exhaustion in his eyes.

"I'm sorry for taxing your mind." Vulcan bowed again. :I shouldn't overstep my station."

"No, you were my first disciple, and you will make a great leader of the rider order should anything happen to me. You look with a compassionate yet strong heart. As long as you keep those close to you, you will move along with great progress.

Hmph… I've said that all the time. Volund rumbled mentally.

"I assume Volund agrees." Eragon quipped with a smile.

Vulcan laughed. Putting two fingers to his lips, he began.

"Atra esterni ono thelduin..." (May good fortune rule over you)

"Atra du evarínya ono varda!" (May the stars watch over you!)

"Un atra mor'ranr lifa unin hjarta onr." (And may peace live in your heart) Eragon's smile was the last image as the spell connecting them through the mirrors ended.

Vulcan sighed. "That poor boy…"

The poor boy in question, Faris, was able to move his legs with better strength, and after a week he was able to take short 5-minute walks once-a-day using a cane. His form and features caused the spreading of rumors and gossip amongst the staff and patients. His deep red eyes and hair and his ghost-pale skin filled them with dread. And the rumor that a shade was brought to the hospital seemed all but confirmed. The older patients avoided him, giving him dirty looks. The younger patients openly mocked him, and even threw trash his way, and even the staff would ignore his requests if Sona or another mage under her direct orders wasn't available.

"I need some ice for my knee please." Faris asked the nurse checking his vitals. She ignored him. Faris frowned. "Hello, please? My knee hurts, ice or something, it feels so slow and swollen…" The nurse finished jotting down the notes and left the room. He gave up calling after her and relaxed in bed. Trying to sleep. Eventually he couldn't help but open his eyes. Seeing her walk back in and drop an ice bag in the middle of the floor.

"A monster like you can get up and get it, or use your sorcery, right?" She looked at him with disgust.

Faris swallowed his rage, "If I was the big boogieman you thought I was, you'd have died on day two…" The woman paled and left the room quickly. Faris angrily forced himself out of the bed, hobbling to the ice. As he attempted to pick it up, he slipped. It was leaking. Falling to the ground he lay there in pain, winded, angry, and humiliated. "Fuck... you know what… fuck this…" He got up, hobbling to the exit of his room. He began shifting towards stairs, or a ramp, anything that would let him leave this blasted building. As he moved along, he saw a collapsed man. "Huh?!" He said, panicked. "Hey! Hey! You there! Are you okay?! He turned the figure to see an old man. Bringing his face to the man's mouth he could feel the man breathing, a soft, gentle thing. Sighing, Faris gently tapped the man. "Sir… sir… this isn't the right place to wake up."

Eventually, the man roused, "Huh… what? What's going on?" His eyes focused on Faris, and Faris held his breath, scared of the man's words. "Hello? Who're you? I can't see very well."

Faris looked shocked, the man's eyes on second glance were unfocused. He must be blind. "I'm Faris, another patient. Let me help you up.

"Oh? Thank you Faris, I must have fainted, I've been suffering from fainting lately."

"Oh… that's dangerous." Faris muttered. "Where's your nurse?"

The man laughed, "She's a nice lady, though, she's trying to earn the heart of one of the mage doctors."

Faris sighed in exasperation. "My nurse won't even get me ice properly."

The man smiled, "Have you been asking right?"

"I've been saying please…"

"That's not enough." The old man shook his head, "I can't see, but I assume there's something about your face that elicits terror? A terrible, ugly scar?"

"Something like that." Faris said.

"Pity, you sound so young. You must have been quite a looker before, probably had a few ladies interested in you."

Faris laughed. "Maybe one or two, I wasn't that popular before. Besides, it's not like it matters anymore…"

"It won't matter with that attitude." The old man sighed, "It's unfortunate, but it's human nature, you have to appeal to them, understand them, then try and empathize. They don't mean their cruelty often, especially if they're still young, it's either fear or lack of understanding, try to appeal. As long as it takes, patient kindness will win them over."

Faris smiled. "Thank you... err."

"Dante, you may call me Dante."

"Thank you, Dante." Faris smiled. He helped the man to his room, and to his bed, handing him a cup of water and some medicine by his table labeled for that day of the week.

"Thank you, child. See, with that same tenderness you helped me with, approach the nurses and other patients, they'll warm up to you."