Disclaimer: I forgot to add this in my previous chapters but, I do not (sadly) own any characters from Eragon. Murtaug, Ayra, Eragon Ect. All belong to Christopher Poloni. So enough of my rambling, Enjoy the story.

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Eragon hugged Saphira's neck as she soured into the sky. Her wings were thumping in the familiar beat that put Eragon at ease.

"I forgot what it was like to fly." Said Eragon.

Saphira let out a gurgling laugh, low in her throat.

Then let me remind you.

Saphira flew gracefully out of the dragon hold, and into the evening sky.

She flew toward the training ground, with many complex twists and dives that made Eragon's heart soar.

After Saphira had finished her tricks, Eragon began to speak with her with the essence that they haven't spoken for four months rather than four days.

Saphira told him of the efforts to clear the bodies of humans and Urgals alike out of the tunnels of Fathren Dur.

"What will they do with them?" asked Eragon, "There must be so many."

Well, snarled Saphira, they are burying the humans in various locations around the Beor Mountains. Their families will return from Surda any day now. As for the Urgals, they are going to burn them with no proper burial.

"And this angers you?"

Of course it does! Do you forget the scrolls you had read at Jode's? And what about the library in Fathren Dur?

Eragon focused guiltily on one oh Saphira's shimmering scales. He knew what Saphira said was true.

Do you remember what they said? Do you Eragon? Well, let me remind you. Before your kind came along, the Urgals lived peacefully. Galbatorix influenced the Urgals that attacked us in the tunnels.

"How can you say that? The first tribes of Urgals might have been influenced, but certainly not the ones in the caves!" yelled Eragon; so loud he almost thought he had said it out loud. "You of all people have seen what they do. You fought them in the tunnels; you saw the destruction they made.

Saphira was about to protest but stopped abruptly.

You're right, little one, I'm sorry. There are just very few creatures that have had the same past as dragons. Let us leave this subject.

Eragon nodded and fell silent.

They remained that way until the training ground was in view.

Eragon looked down at the hilt of Za'roc protruding out of its sheath.

"Saphira?" asked Eragon uncertainly.

Yes? "Do you think the elves make all their swords the same?" How do you mean?

"When I first picked up Za'roc," began Eragon slowly, "It felt, like it was made for me. The perfect weight, the perfect height, the hilt even matched every crease in my hand. Do they make them that way or, do you think there's a relation between Za'roc and-" Eragon stopped, unable to continue.

Little one, I believe you worry for no reason. There is no relation between you and Morzan. It is impossible. But if you really want to know, that is a question to ask Ayra.

"But," Eragon began.

No, you underestimate my judgment; I would not have picked a boy with foresworn blood running through his veins. Now be at ease, for we have arrived.

Eragon looked down right as Saphira's mighty claws touched the ground.

Eragon looked at the training ground and gave an involuntary gasp.

The grounds, which had once held so many fighters, were now empty, except for two figures sparing at the end of the field.

So many have been killed or injured that there is no one healthy enough to fight.

"But, they can't all have been killed!"

Of coarse not! Many are just two tiered to train. Most are still busy clearing the tunnels. The fact of the matter is no one is in the mood for more fighting.

Eragon nodded and began to walk towards the two lone figures, Eragon assumed were Ayra and Murtaug.

As he drew closer, he could hear what they were saying.

"Good, good," said Ayra as she flicked the tip of her blade to Murtaug's neck.

"Good?" asked Murtaug, "I lost."

Eragon smiled remembering his same reaction when he first spared with Ayra.

"Again." She said.

Murtaug rolled his eyes and reached for his weapon.

He came toward her with a burst of speed and strength, determined to beat her. Ayra easily blocked all of Murtaug's hits.

Ayra then raised her sword as though she meant to strike him in the head.

But why would she do that, thought Eragon, She is giving away her plan so easily.

Neither of them had noticed Eragon yet.

At the last possible moment, Ayra switched her blade so that it swung toward Murtaug's left side. Murtaug quickly flicked his eyes up at Ayra's revolving blade. It was only for one moment but it was enough.

Taking advantage of his brief moment of distraction, she knelt down and stuck her leg out behind his ankles. Losing his balance, Murtaug's sword flew into the air and he fell backwards onto the ground.

Ayra looked down at him and seeing the look on his face began to laugh.

Murtaug's face burned red with embarrassment.

"Th-that wasn't fair," Stammered Murtaug getting to his feet.

Eragon couldn't help himself and he to began to laugh.

At that, they finally looked up at him.

"Eragon!"

Ayra reached him first, throwing her arms around Eragon's neck.

It was his turn to glow red.

"We were so worried about you!" whispered Ayra.

Eragon patted her awkwardly on the back. She held him tight for moment then pulled away.

Murtaug gave Eragon a brotherly hug and stepped away so that they could face each other.

"Angela said that it would take you a lot longer to heal." he said smiling, "of course, after killing the Shade, we knew you would be fine."

At the mention of Angela's name, Ayra's face grew dark, and she glared angrily at the ground.

"What's wrong?" asked Eragon. He had always known Ayra and Angela to be on quite good terms.

"That witch," snarled Ayra, "She wouldn't let me help you. It was clear that you were fighting off the spirits left behind by Durza. A battle you were clearly losing. But she wouldn't let me do a thing. I wanted to link minds with you and help you fight them off. That witch wouldn't even let me near you. Telling me that your mind was confused and you would attack me…"

Ayra sighed inwardly. "But I guess it all worked out. But if you had died, I swear, that witch would be-"

Murtaug put a hand on her arm and whispered something in her ear.

"Calm down, she did save him you know."

Ayra nodded and pulled away.

Thinking it best to leave this subject behind, Eragon asked, "Would you like to spar?"

Murtaug nodded and pulled out his sword.

Ayra sat down on the soft grass and watched as the two boys spared.

It was less that an hour when Eragon finally knocked the sword out of Murtaug's hand.

The boys stared at each other panting.

"Well," said Murtaug regaining his breath, "its clear that the battle has left you no weaker."

Eragon laughed, "Nor you stronger!"

Eragon checked the sky. By the look of the sun, it was a little past 4:00 pm, which meant he and Murtaug would leave in less than three hours.

"We should head back, we leave for the village by sundown." Said Eragon.

"Leave for where-, oh yah our mission." Said Murtaug smiling.

Ayra glared at them for a moment, and then she stood quietly and walked off toward the end of the battlefield muttering darkly to herself.

Eragon looked at Murtaug confused, Murtaug simply shrugged.

Eragon began to run after her. Murtaug went to follow him, and was stopped by one of Saphira's large translucent blue wings.

Let them be, little one, quite a temper today.

Murtaug stared into Saphira's deep blue eyes, and nodded in understanding.

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Eragon finally caught up with Ayra and grabbed her firmly by the arm. "What's wrong with you?" asked Eragon, pulling Ayra forward to face him.

To his surprise tears were brimming her auburn eyes.

"You want to know what's wrong with me?" she yelled.

Eragon stepped backwards at the sudden flow of venom that had entered her voice.

"You!" she said pointing an accusing finger at his chest, "You've just woken up and we don't even know if you're fully healed! But you and Ajihad just go off and begin planning journeys that could kill you. Galbatorix has already sent over 1,000 soldiers down there! 1,000 soldiers! Even for a rider like you and a worrier as skilled as Murtaug, its dangerous!"

"Well," yelled Eragon, "What do you want me to do about it? I'm a rider, I didn't choose my fate!"

"I want to go with you." She said simply.

Eragon shook his head. He knew their mission was dangerous. He would not live with himself if Ayra were killed.

"No."

"No? You do not have the authority to prevent me from going!"

"Your right," said Eragon sadly, "But Ajihad does."

There was silence for a moment. Ayra raised her head and looked him in the eyes.

"If you hate me so much," she whispered, "that you would go to Ajihad to prevent me from accompanying you, then so be it."

Ayra walked back toward the tunnel that lead to Fathern Dur.

Eragon turned back around, looking at the ground.

I will not let Ayra be harmed, even if it means losing her friendship…

Once Eragon reached Murtaug, he found that he was speaking to a dwarf. The dwarf looked up at him, and bowed respectively.

"Greetings Eragon, Shadeslayer, we are all in your debt." Said the dwarf, his voice thick with admiration.

Eragon nodded in return. He did not have the heart to smile.

Murtaug looked at him for a moment and before turning back to the dwarf.

"You were saying?"

"Oh, yes, terrible tragedy it is. Corrin, the king's personal scout, arrived not but an hour's time ago. He informed us that the empires spies have destroyed a small village, not far from the spine I recon. Nasty little things they are, the Ra'zac."

Eragon looked up slowly.

"What was the name of that village?" he asked, a hard knot forming in his stomach.

"I believe," began the dwarf, "It was called Carvahall."

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Well, that's it for this Chapter. Sorry if it was a little boring. Please Review, I want to hear, opinions, suggestions, and anything that will help me make the story better. Thanks for reading, see you soon!