Chapter Twenty-Nine: The First

Murtagh woke up in his tree house.

He lay there on the bed for a moment, trying to remember how he'd gotten there, because the last thing he recalled was watching the Agaeti Blodhren's closing ceremony…

His eyes widened and he sat bolt-upright. The spectral dragon, Eragon screaming, and then lightning surged through his veins—

The mind of his dragon touched him and jerked Murtagh back to the present. Thorn's voice was relieved.

Oh good, you've awoken, the dragon said.

Thorn, what—

Be calm, Thorn told him, pausing to gather his thoughts. What do you remember?

I think everything up until I was struck by the magic coming from Eragon.

Eragon is resting, Thorn reassured him, sensing his Rider's panic. Murtagh exhaled and felt the tension in his body mostly dissipate. The two of you were the only ones who lost consciousness. You should have seen the reactions of the elves. Nothing like this has ever happened before.

I gathered that, funnily enough, Murtagh grumbled. What happened exactly?

The memories of my race acted through the spectral creature brought to life by the Twins. They channeled a monstrous amount of wild magic through Eragon for a purpose no one is yet certain of. I suspect it was the only way they were able to act on the world around them.

Why was I hit? Why just me?

Again, I'm not certain. But they have given you a wonderful gift, brother. Feel your back.

Murtagh frowned and lifted his hand carefully to his bare back, cautious of over-stretching his wound, and yet he didn't feel nearly as strained as…

As…

His eyes widened as he brushed the corner of his shoulder and realized Durza's scar was gone. His fingers trailed the length of the wound and glorious hope gave way to joy.

"It's gone," he whispered. Tears filled his eyes and his throat swelled up. "Oh gods, it's gone."

Yes, Thorn's mind curled around his own and Murtagh felt joyous love pouring from his partner. You were healed, my brother.

Murtagh buried his face in his hands and wept, laughing messily at the revelation that he was no longer a cripple, no longer unworthy to be joined to Thorn.

You were never unworthy, Thorn told him sharply. Durza tried and failed to break you, and now his malice is as nonexistent as the scar upon your flesh.

The Rider sent insurmountable gratitude to his dragon, wordless in his happiness.

Murtagh suddenly stood and walked over to his mirror. He wiped his eyes and took in his flushed skin, and he turned as much as he could to see his back free of the weal. Seeing it with his own eyes made him laugh again.

Grinning with sudden energy, he rushed over to Zar'roc and pulled it free of its scabbard. To his surprise, the sword came so easily that it slipped from his fingers and flew out of his hand, flying towards the wall and burying itself almost to the hilt in the thick wood.

Murtagh's jaw dropped.

Thorn clearly heard the sound of the sword piercing the tree and contacted him with concern in his voice. Brother? What was that?

Erm. I, um. I just threw Zar'roc into the wall.

The dragon was utterly bewildered. For…for what purpose?

I was just trying to draw it from the scabbard. It came out so much faster than usual that it slipped free of my hand.

And what, it just buried itself in the wall?

Murtagh frowned deeply and walked over to the sword, realizing as he moved that his body felt far lighter than before. He grabbed the hilt and with barely any effort, tugged it free of the wood. Hopefully, he could repair the thin hole before anyone noticed the damage.

But for now, he was focused on how light the crimson blade was in his hand.

I don't think the dragons just healed me, Thorn, Murtagh confessed slowly.

Thorn's intrigue was infectious. Get outside. We should see Oromis, anyways. Do not forget your tunic.

Murtagh was already halfway out the door and spun on his heel to run back into his room. I definitely didn't forget that.

Thorn was most amused.

They reached Oromis' hut and found Brom striding outside immediately. The old man sighed in relief at the sight of them.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there when you woke up," the old man told Murtagh as soon as his boots hit the ground. "I've been rushing back and forth on Saphira to check up on you and Eragon."

"It's ok," Murtagh reassured him. Brom looked unbearably stressed, and to see his step-son back on his feet was probably a huge weight off his shoulders. "Eragon's here?"

"Yes. Whatever happened drained him terribly. Oromis insisted he be brought here. We've been restoring his energy little by little, but it seems like he's finally sleeping fitfully. He had us worried for a while there."

Brom took a long breath and exhaled. "But he'll be fine. What about you? How are you? Your back—"

"I've recovered. Durza's wound hurts me no longer."

The old man smiled. "I'm happy for you."

"There is something of a problem, though."

The smile vanished. "What sort of problem?"

Murtagh unsheathed Zar'roc and explained to Brom what had happened. His stepfather's eyebrows rose high.

Garzhvog had been standing not far away with Saphira and Firnen, (and Thorn when the ruby dragon stalked over to sit by her) and approached when Murtagh finished his brief story. He hefted Domia and offered the boy a challenging look.

"Shall we see if your words hold true?"

Brom backed off as Murtagh guarded the edges of their blades, and then his step-son was swinging Zar'roc in a crimson blur. Garzhvog blocked the strike and grunted, eyes widening in surprise. The Kull growled, shoved Murtagh back, and watched the young man lunge in a half-circle around him.

It felt a little like he had wings on his feet, Murtagh reflected as he brought Zar'roc up to meet Garzhvog's huge axe. They pushed against each other and though the Urgal was dominant, it was much closer than when Garzhvog fought Eragon.

They broke away from each other and Garzhvog swung Domia down to jam the axe in the earth. He lifted his arms for a fistfight and Murtagh sheathed Zar'roc to match him. He charged in and caught one of the Kull's meaty fists as he swung his own. Garzhvog in turn snatched his arm and they heaved against one another.

Brom's eyes grew wide. Gods above, but Murtagh was strong now. Stronger than Eragon, even. He looked fully human, but whatever the dragons had done to him and enhanced his physical strength to a level only Garzhvog was able to match.

Garzhvog and Murtagh pushed with all their might, but for all his newfound strength, the Rider simply could not conquer the Kull's incredible weight and muscle mass. Garzhvog managed to force himself forward one step, pushing Murtagh's heels through the dirt. He stepped again, slowly overwhelming the boy. Head-on, he would lose this eventually.

Unfortunately, Murtagh had not been trained to fight fairly. He had been trained to survive.

Murtagh let go in one smooth motion and when Garzhvog stumbled forward, he smashed his free fist into the Kull's face.

Garzhvog roared and spat blood, eyes furious. His arm snapped around and caught Murtagh in a headlock, crushing the young man's neck between his thick forearm and bicep. Murtagh struggled to try and peel the limb off, then drove his elbow into the Kull's gut several times, but he finally tapped out.

Garzhvog let him go and Murtagh gasped, stumbling to the ground. The Kull backed off a few steps and wiped the blood from his face, then started to laugh.

"A good punch!" Garzhvog laughed, uncaring of his split lip and bleeding nose.

Murtagh grinned up at the Kull. "It was a pretty good punch, wasn't it?"

His friend offered a hand and pulled Murtagh to his feet with no effort. Garzhvog looked him up and down for a few moments, clearly interested. "A common Urgal will not be able to overpower you, I think. If you fight intelligently, I daresay you could overwhelm even a Kull. Whatever the dragons did to you, boy, they have made you fearsome, indeed."

Murtagh took a breath and studied his hands. "I'll have to re-learn my strength like Eragon did, won't I?"

"Yes," Brom agreed, walking over with gleaming eyes. "I think Oromis will implement that into your recovery exercises. You need to regain your flexibility now that you're healed, anyways. We'll get you back to top form soon enough."

The younger man suddenly grinned. "Care to try arm wrestling me now, Brom?"

"Eragon already dislocated my shoulder once, you little shit."

They started laughing, but then Oromis stepped out of his hut and called to them.

"He's awake. Come."

Murtagh hurried over and Oromis appeared startled at his enhanced speed, but said nothing for the time being. They entered the hut—Garzhvog just poked his head in since the roof wasn't nearly high enough for him—and found Eragon lying on his back in the cot. The boy's eyes were glazed, his skin flushed and feverish, and he looked absolutely miserable.

At his side, Arya squeezed water from a cloth and set the damp fabric on Eragon's forehead. Murtagh crouched beside her and his brother's eyes flickered over to him. He paused when he realized they were still the vibrant, cobalt blue he'd seen briefly during the ceremony, when the dragon's magic was surging through him.

The Eldunari lay flat on his chest, pulsing weakly. Murtagh watched the gem for a moment before looking back at Eragon's face and cracking a slight smile. "Good to see you, little brother."

"Mm," he managed, wincing. Murtagh bet his throat hurt; he'd screamed himself raw.

"Hush," Arya ordered, shaking her head briefly at Murtagh. She focused on Eragon and from the foggy look in his brother's eyes, Murtagh assumed they were communicating with their minds. Talking might be too much of an exertion for him at the moment.

The elven Princess furrowed her brow as she spoke to Eragon in silence for a minute or two. "Go back to sleep. You need to rest."

His eyes narrowed slightly and he must have communicated again with his mind. Her gaze became stern. "This is not up for discussion, Eragon. It can wait. Now, slytha."

Eragon's eyes grew cloudy with sleep and Murtagh tried not to laugh when it became clear the boy was fighting her spell as stubbornly as possible. Arya's lips curved up into a smile and she whispered again in the Ancient Language.

"No," he rasped petulantly.

"Slytha, Eragon," Arya's voice was brimming with mirth. "Slytha."

He fought valiantly for someone so bedridden, but Arya firmly put him down and he drifted off into unconsciousness. When his breathing evened out again, she looked away from him and up at the others.

"He's feverish and weak," she explained. "He was going to be miserable staying up. He must rest."

"I agree," Oromis studied the sleeping boy fondly. "He wanted to stay awake?"

Her expression became incredibly serious. "He said he met Bid'Daum. The spectral dragon—it was Bid'Daum."

Eragon felt the minds of those around him leave his memories and rubbed at his temple, groaning uncomfortably. His every cell was still aching from the aftereffects of the Agaeti Blodhren, and using magic made him feel lightheaded.

Apparently, funneling obscene amounts of wild magic through one's body was not healthy.

Now two days after the Agaeti Blodhren, he was probably strong enough to share what he'd experienced and attempt to understand the implications.

The Crags of Tel'naeir was currently occupied by Eragon of course, sitting on a stool to preserve his strength, as well as Oromis, Brom, Arya, Murtagh, Islanzadi, and the dragons. All of them had just been guided through his memories to witness Eragon's meeting with Bid'Daum so they could make sense of what had occurred.

The elves looked stricken, to say the least. Brom was pale as a sheet.

"They altered the pact between the Riders and the dragons," Islanzadi breathed.

"Amongst other things," Eragon agreed, glancing at his half-brother.

He couldn't decide if he was relieved or jealous that the dragons hadn't seen fit to alter his brother's appearance, but mostly he was just happy Murtagh's disability was done and over with.

Oromis leaned back against Glaedr, his face ashen. "This is unprecedented. The dragons have never acted through the Caretakers in such a way. We knew nothing of their desire to create a living conduit between them and the Riders, either. The implications alone…"

Murtagh glanced from Oromis to Islanzadi and back again. "Let me make sure I've got this right. Unless I'm mistaken, the spirits of dragons long-dead expanded the pact of Dragon Riders, didn't they? When Bid'Daum said the races needed to unite to defeat Galbatorix, he meant all of them. So then the dwarves and Urgals—"

"They've been integrated into the pact, yes," Oromis confirmed, rubbing a hand over his face. "This complicates things, but we also have to consider the reality that there is only one dragon egg in our possession, and it could now hatch for any of four races."

Eragon had a sudden thought. "Actually, I think I might know who her Rider is."

All eyes flew to him and he expanded on his statement. "A while back, I was with the egg and Opheila. Garzhvog came by and the hatchling seemed to be…well, excited. I had him touch the egg and she reacted. She couldn't hatch for him back then; Urgals weren't a part of the pact, but now..."

He trailed off and let them digest that. Brom breathed in smoke from his pipe, brow furrowed deeply. "That doesn't necessarily mean she'll hatch for him. Baby dragons do move in their dormancy, albeit rarely."

"She was actively seeking him," Eragon told him seriously. "I'm not just saying this to say it. I know what I felt, she was drawn to him."

"I believe you, Eragon, just…" Brom shook his head in bewilderment. "It's just a bit to take in! We've been luckier than you can fathom having Saphira, Thorn, and Firnen hatch for us so rapidly one after another. A fourth egg hatching? For an Urgal, no less?"

Even at the peak of the age of the Dragon Riders, we never had so many new students come to us at once, Glaedr agreed. It's not impossible, but the odds are extraordinarily low.

Islanzadi pursed her lips. "There's really only one way to find out, isn't there?"

Oromis slowly, hesitantly nodded. He was silent for several minutes before glancing at Glaedr. "Bring him."

The golden male stood and launched himself into the air. Garzhvog was, as usual, roughing it in the woods nearby. It wouldn't take him long to find the Kull.

Eragon shivered in his seat and closed his eyes while they waited. He still felt weak, even if his fever had broken. Saphira gently sent him some of her energy and it ran cool through his veins. He sighed and returned a pulse of thanks.

I'll make sure you can sleep after this, she promised.

Thank you, he responded, too tired to argue.

Garzhvog arrived a minute after Glaedr returned some time later. The Kull jogged out of the forest and stopped before them, greeting the gathered group.

"What is it?"

Oromis emerged from his hut with the brown dragon egg and approached the Urgal. Garzhvog listened as the elf explained what had happened at the Agaeti Blodhren, and then he was silent in surprise and disbelief.

"You are serious," Garzhvog said slowly. "You think I could be the Rider for this dragon?"

"She responded to you before," Eragon pointed out. "If she does the same this time, I think it's safe to say she's really interested. I don't know if she'll hatch, but there's only one way to find out for certain."

"Do you understand the implications of this, Garzhvog?" Islanzadi's commanding voice garnered his full attention. "If this dragon chooses to hatch for you, you will have to be the one who leads the Urgralgra into an alliance with the other races. You will never be able to return to your tribe as you once did. Your allegiance would forever be tied to the Dragon Riders."

The Kull considered her words for a time. His gaze returned to the dragon egg. "When I was cast out by Durza, I knew death was likely. When I joined the Riders to reach the Varden, I knew I would be slaying my own people to save them. And I knew the Urgralgra will have to join forces with the other races to destroy the traitor King. Whether this dragon hatches for me or not, my task has not changed."

Garzhvog looked up at Oromis. "What must I do?"

"You'll have to be around the egg for some time," the elf responded. "But first—your hand, if you would."

The Kull set his fingers upon the egg carefully and Oromis sensed for the hatchling within. Just as with Eragon, he felt the dormant dragon shift and seek Garzhvog's touch. It was curious; interested.

"She certainly seems to like you," he murmured. "You were present when Firnen hatched for Arya, were you not?"

"I was."

"Then you know this may take some time. You will carry the egg with you for the next day. Regardless of whether she hatches for you, you will return here with her tomorrow. Is that clear?"

"It is," Garzhvog grunted. He gently took the egg from Oromis and held it carefully. The Kull considered it for some time, then looked up at the elf. "I will leave for my dwelling now. I shall return with her in the morning."

"See to it that you do," Islanzadi told him.

He dipped his head and cradling the dragon egg in his hands, turned and walked away into the forest once again.

"We will see what happens, then," Brom proclaimed.

Eragon tried not to doze off where he was sitting, but he was fighting a losing battle. Saphira's head snaked over to nudge him gently. Little one, let me fly you to the house. You should sleep.

He nodded and with a sigh, stood to climb onto his dragon. All they could do now was wait, and he would not be waiting while he was dead on his feet.

Arya visited Eragon's treehouse later in the evening.

Saphira was elsewhere when she arrived with Firnen. She knocked on the door and heard Eragon call to let her in, and when she opened the door, a giant wall of fur with silver eyes stared at her.

Arya smiled at the sight of the Shrrg and lifted a hand to scratch beneath Arget's chin. The great wolf let out a pleased whine, but Arya found herself surprised when a smaller, fluffy body slipped between Arget's legs and brushed up against her own.

"Maud," she murmured in surprise. "I didn't know you were here."

The Shadeslayer has been rather accommodating, the werecat replied. And the wolf provides a soft nest.

Maud looked up at Firnen next. Though I saw you at the Agaeti Blodhren, I don't believe we have met officially, dragon. We are well met.

We are indeed, werecat, Firnen hummed, lowering his head to meet her more closely. It would be my pleasure to speak with you more.

And we shall, Maud agreed. She returned her eyes to Arya. Eragon is inside. I do believe he's taken to studying something about the creatures of the sea. It was interesting to read with him.

Arya tilted her head. Sea creatures? What had driven Eragon to look into animals so far away?

She left Maud and Arget with Firnen, who settled down on his belly to communicate more comfortably. Arya entered the treehouse and saw Eragon sitting on the sofa with his focus entirely on an old book. But he heard her step inside and looked up to greet her.

"Arya."

"Eragon," she returned, nodding at him. "Are you feeling better?"

"I slept well," he admitted. "My body is still recovering, but I feel well. I think I should be able to return to training in earnest tomorrow."

"I am glad to hear it. Maud told me you were reading about sea life?"

"Aye."

"For what purpose?"

Eragon pursed his lips and tilted his head somewhat. "Some of it is simply pure interest."

"And the rest?"

He smirked, looking at her with an expression that gleamed with mischief. "A secret."

Arya raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yes."

She considered him for a few moments. "Any creature in particular?"

He turned the book in his hands and offered it to her. Arya accepted the tome and blinked when she recognized it; it was an old text from the Dragon Riders of Vroengard.

Her brow creased. "Sea serpents?"

"Aye. There's not much about them," he said. "The Riders only ever saw them at a distance. They always fled whenever the dragons flew too close."

Arya tilted her head. "And such a creature is interesting to you for what reason?"

"Now, that would be telling," he grinned.

She narrowed her eyes at him, but her lips quirked up somewhat playfully. "How would a farm boy living in the mountains see a creature bound to the ocean?"

Eragon almost opened his mouth, but he knew Arya's game and he pressed his lips shut, not even hiding his smile. Arya glared at him without heat in her eyes. "Do you not trust me with your little secret?"

"You cannot guilt me into telling, Arya," he grinned. His smile faded a little. "If ever we find ourselves in the Spine again, perhaps I will show you. But…it is a treasured secret of mine and Murtagh's, and we swore to each other that we would only speak the truth of it to those we trusted to understand."

He was completely serious. Arya saw the stern steel in his eyes and knew he was firm in his decision to protect this secret of his. She handed the book back to him and her smile softened.

"Then I hope you will one day be willing to trust me with such a secret."

"One day," he agreed. "But not now."

And that was more than fair to her. Arya had plenty of secrets she had yet to speak of to Eragon simply because she wasn't ready. If he was adamant to keep this to himself, it wouldn't be right to bully it out of him.

"I didn't know you'd become acquainted with Maud."

"She acquainted herself with Arget, actually," he admitted. "Since they got along so well, I felt I did not have the right to prevent them from spending time together. And I must confess, I miss Solembum."

"Solembum?"

"Have you not met him? He's the werecat that travels with Angela."

Arya frowned. "I have not met him. I wasn't aware you'd encountered a werecat before Maud."

"I met Solembum in Tierm," Eragon confessed. "He made sure we didn't get arrested when we were stealing records of Seithr Oil shipments."

"You were what?"

The boy grinned so very mischievously she couldn't help but smile in bewilderment. "It's how we tracked down the Ra'zac to Dras Leona."

He explained how they'd gone about doing so; from Thorn's discovery of the Seithr Oil to the tracing of oil purchases and shipments from Tierm. That also included Solembum tipping off Eragon that the guards had started searching for their party.

"Reckless," Arya shook her head.

"You're still smiling," he pointed out, and she just looked at him while he grinned. "If you must know, the plan was really Brom and Jeod's idea. Murtagh and I were just there for the ride."

"I'm sure," she said dryly.

Eragon laughed at her sarcastic tone. When he recovered, he pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I'll try to introduce you to Angela and Solembum when we see them next. They're still in Surda right now. I think you'll like Solembum. Angela can take some getting used to. She's…interesting."

"Interesting in what way?"

"Have you ever wondered if toads exist?"

Arya had no words for the utter confusion that came over her.

Eragon shrugged at the bewilderment on her face. "I didn't understand either. Angela has a different way of looking at things. She knows a lot of things that confuse me. For all that she looks like a normal human woman, she's clearly not."

"How so?"

He was quiet for a short time. "It's hard to explain. Angela is…different. I'm not sure I have the words to explain it properly. One day, I'll introduce the two of you. You'll understand it then."

"Very well," she crossed her arms thoughtfully. The herbalist certainly sounded intriguing, if perhaps a little…odd. Arya made a mental note to investigate the woman on her own; she trusted Eragon, but he could still be somewhat naive for his inexperience, and she didn't want to walk into an assassin's lair unknowingly.

Eragon set his book aside after slotting a marker between the pages and stood up. "Now, I've been rather rude. You came here and I did not ask why."

"I merely came to ensure you were recovering well," Arya told him. "You expended a dangerous amount of energy during the ceremony."

"I know. I'm sorry for being difficult in Oromis' hut that evening."

She smirked in amusement. "It is forgiven. I must admit, I was somewhat impressed you resisted the compulsion to sleep for so long."

He shrugged, cracking a smile. "I'm told I can be rather stubborn."

"You certainly can be," she agreed. As she studied him, a frown came over her face. Something was different about Eragon, but she couldn't quite…ah.

"Your eyes are back to normal," she realized.

Eragon blinked. "Are they? I haven't checked for some time."

"The blue has receded," Arya said, studying the light browns. It had her wondering…

"Your Eldunari. Does it feel any different?"

Eragon paused and reached up with both hands to pull the necklace and jewel out from under his tunic. Arya watched the deep blue gem as it faintly pulsed with the boy's heartbeat.

"It doesn't feel…different, exactly," he murmured. "Tired, I think, but recovering. The way Glaedr explained it, it reflects my body. Myself. It is a part of me, even if we're separate now."

"It was very faint when Bid'Daum finished casting his magic."

"I came close to death. I suppose that is why."

"Hmm," she hummed.

Arya pondered in silence for a time before she looked up from the gem and back at his face. "Where is Saphira?"

"With Thorn."

"And how are they?"

Eragon hesitated and cast a glance outside. "Saphira is…she's been easing into the idea of accepting Thorn's advances. None of us are sure if it will work out."

Arya frowned. "And why would it not?"

"Because of Murtagh and I, actually. We're siblings, remember? And we project onto our dragons in ways that are…"

He was clearly looking for a way to explain, but Arya understood immediately. "Their minds feel somewhat the same towards each other?"

"We think so. They're struggling with instincts that confuse them. On one hand, they know they're unrelated, but on another, their Riders are brothers and they themselves have been raised together like that since the first day they were out of their eggs. It is…difficult."

"I see."

They were silent for a while. And then—

Eragon's stomach rumbled and his cheeks grew pink with surprise. Arya laughed at his expression, flashing her strong, white teeth.

"It would seem, Shadeslayer, that your body requires sustenance," she teased.

Eragon blushed even harder and looked away, thoroughly embarrassed. Arya laughed some more and reached out to tap his arm. "Come. I feel hungry, as well. We can speak more as we eat."

"Very well," he mumbled, still somewhat ruffled. "Lead the way."

The night passed by and morning came.

As the sunrise peaked over the horizon, the Riders gathered at the Crags of Tel'naeir with their dragons. Oromis had prepared a stew for them to eat together, and so they did at a wooden table they pulled from inside his hut.

The dragons had gone on a quick hunt and were picking clean the rest of their kills. Glaedr rumbled, annoyed, as Thorn stole some of Firnen's deer, causing the green male to snap at him. Thorn tried Saphira next, but she fixed him with a glare and rumbled deep in her throat until the ornery red dragon backed off.

He was full, anyways.

Though the morning was quiet, save for the chirping of birds and insects, the air was tense. It would not be long before their friend returned to them with…with what? A dragon? An egg?

Glaedr had a dead stag pinned under one of his paws should Garzhvog return with a dragon hatchling. They all knew well the appetites of the infants. He would eat it himself if the attempt was unsuccessful.

Opheila was with them as well. Her Eldunari was on the table with the Riders, resting on a cushion of silk in the morning light. She felt most anxious of all of them; it was clear she was hoping her daughter would hatch.

The sun rose a little higher by the time they finished eating and Oromis insisted they begin exercising with the Rimgar. Glaedr led the younger dragons into the sky to begin their own exercises. They would be working hard today.

Mid-morning came. Oromis suddenly spoke into the minds of all his students.

He comes.

They stopped and turned to the forest. Glaedr led the dragons back to the cliffs and they landed one after another, watching the tree line anxiously.

The sound of heavy footsteps was muffled somewhat by the soft forest floor. They watched the massive shape of the Kull pushed aside branches with barely a sound as he emerged from the woods.

Garzhvog approached them and stopped before the Riders and dragons. He turned his head slightly to make a quiet murmur.

Eragon's breath left his lungs as a tiny creature climbed out of the Kull's pack and scrambled onto his head; so small, that she fit between his horns when she sat down. Her brown scales were the color of rich, polished mahogany, and her eyes were the color of dark forest leaves. The membrane of her wings were lighter than her body, almost translucent, and when they stretched they didn't even pass her Rider's massive shoulders.

The baby dragon took in the sight of her larger kin and their Riders, and flicked her tongue out to catch their scent. She chirped to greet them, and the dragons rumbled in response. Garzhvog lifted his hand, and the Gedwey Ignasia was bright and new on his palm.

"You were right, Shadeslayer," he murmured. The dragon atop his head looked down when she heard the voice of her Rider and tilted her elegant skull like a curious bird. Garzhvog grinned widely and started to laugh. "You were right."

A/N: Life is better with more dragons.

I would have gotten this out earlier, but I took a vacation with my family to New Orleans. It's been a great trip, and now I'm happy to be writing again. I don't want to lose my steam now that I've picked it up, but this was a great way to recharge my batteries.

Chapter 30 will mark the end of this arc and begin the time skip. Chapters 31-34 will be special; each will focus on a Rider throughout the time skip, and chapter 35 will mark the start of the next arc following the gap. Get ready for the war that has been long in coming.

As ever, please review and thanks for reading!