EPILOGUE: FREE

Murtagh blinked awake, his breath intaking, the world quiet around him.

He lay on the cool floor of the Eldunari chamber at Mt. Argnor, the muffled sound of the room thrumming in his ears. It was soft and calm in the cavern, after the noise of his mind.

He sat up, and found Thorn sitting nearby, his eyes blinking.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed. It might have been ten minutes, it might have been a week. He had seen the visions of memory passing before his mind, but somehow they had not seemed to drag on second by second. Somehow they seemed distant, and blended together, and covered in fog.

They certainly hadn't hurt him–even those memories he had been most terrified to face had floated past him like leaves swirling in a stream–passing by harmlessly–visible to his sight, but without any sharpness or bite to them.

You see, young rider, Umaroth's voice came from his Eldunari, and Murtagh raised his eyes to the old dragon.

Since the day Uru'baen fell, you have been free of your bonds. It was this freedom that gave you the strength to save yourself, and your dragon, and indeed all of us. For without your actions, we could not have cast the spell against the Egg-breaker and ended him.

Murtagh swallowed, his hands pressed against the cold floor, feeling strangely hollow, but not in a bad way.

These memories are toothless, Dila'ah murmured to him, You are free of them–they belong to the past–do not submit again to their shackles.

He took a breath. A calm was settling onto his bones, a sort of strength.

Note, also, Glaedr's voice cut in, That since the day Thorn hatched for you–though you have experienced sufferings, in all these you have never been alone. And even those hurts that you suffered before, he helps to carry the weight of. This is what it is to be a dragon rider. The privilege and the burden. You are not alone. You are never alone. You are bonded with your dragon, and with us, and with the whole order. When you are in need, you have people to turn to, for help.

Murtagh met Thorn's blinking eye, and smiled softly.

You are free, Umaroth repeated, and Murtagh remembered that first night under the stars, when he had realized that he and Thorn could go anywhere they pleased, do anything they pleased–that they were bound by nothing and to no one.

Live in that freedom.

"Thank you," Murtagh whispered, his voice echoing around the walls. The Eldunari's minds hummed in response.

When Murtagh and Thorn stepped out of the keep, the sun was beginning to tilt westward, and the glittering shapes of several dragons speckled the snow below. They stood for a long time watching Dorama teaching Shillith something to do with the way he was holding his wings.

You are alright? Thorn asked, and Murtagh smiled, remembering the many times he'd been asked that. He hadn't really taken proper notice of it before–how Thorn was always looking out for him, always checking on him, always protecting him. He'd been taking advantage of that, he realized, ignoring Thorn's worries as he tried to bury his pain instead of deal with it.

Was it hard for you? To see all that? Murtagh asked, unsure if he was alright or not.

No, Thorn responded thoughtfully. I have been feeling it for years. And not knowing where the feelings came from. All the things you experienced apart from me, all your pains… I see them now. They are not phantoms anymore. I can sink my teeth into them, and tear at them with my claws.

Murtagh smiled a little, and Thorn's head swiveled back towards him.

You have fought to protect me since the moment I hatched, Thorn said, And I have tried to do the same for you. But where each of us may fail to prevent a wound, we can, at least, aid each other in the healing.

Thorn blinked, and Murtagh understood.

The next time you feel the need to drown yourself, The dragon concluded, Please reach out to me, and let me draw you from the waters.

Murtagh's eyes smarted, and he pressed his head against Thorn's, feeling his warmth in the cold air.

Alright? Thorn asked.

Alright.

They made their easy way down the hill until they'd reached Eragon and Saphira, who were watching Shillith attempt to lift off the ground with Kharnine on his back, encouraged by Thrivka and Dorama.

Eragon glanced at Murtagh as he stepped up next to him, and nodded with a hesitant smile.

"Alright?" Eragon asked, turning his gaze back to the young dragons. Murtagh squinted forward as well, as Shillith gave his wings three mighty flaps and stumbled forward.

"I'm sorry," He began, "For how my behavior has been affecting the academy. I didn't mean to hurt anyone."

He looked down at the grass, working through his own shame and trying not to bolt. Eragon nodded again.

"You're forgiven. And I understand. It can't be easy."

Murtagh took a breath, wanting to walk away, but forcing himself to keep talking.

"The two years Thorn and me were traveling…" He started, "...I had a pretty good handle on it. We were so busy, you know. Keeping out of sight, and making a living, hunting, always moving. It… it kept me distracted. And half the time we were in the woods; not like I could get my hands on dwarven mead in the middle of the spine."

Eragon smirked, and Murtagh glanced at Thorn, who gave him an encouraging nod.

"...but then everything with our mother, and the witch…" Murtagh rubbed a finger along his brow, wincing at the memories. "...she… attached herself to my mind. And–and she used me. And it just felt like… like I was back at the beginning. Like everything I'd done for two years to put all that behind me was just… just gone."

Dusan and his dragon circled overhead and began a lazy descent.

"Then I was just…here. And everything got so quiet," Murtagh concluded.

"Quiet?" Eragon chuckled, as Shillith let out a trumpet of frustration and stamped his feet.

"I just mean… I was here, and there was work to do, and I was surrounded by…by all of you," He gestured, "But it was like… suddenly the–the walls I'd built up around myself, they were… crumbling. And I didn't have a mission to keep me distracted. And I just didn't want to–I just don't… want to feel… I guess, anything."

He looked down at the snow again. He had to keep pushing, he had to do this.

Strong, Murtagh, Thorn encouraged.

"Even right now, I want a drink," He admitted to Eragon, and his brother looked at him with sympathy. Murtagh's throat burned, but he thought about what Glaedr had said–Glaedr, whose life he had ended, who had every right to hate him forever–

You are not alone.

"I need help, Eragon," He murmured, his face burning with shame, but his mind determined.

His brother put a hand on his shoulder.

"You have it."

He nodded, and then the two of them turned their gazes back to the young silver dragon, who was flapping mightily and pushing from the ground.

Thrivka gave a shriek of delight as Shillith's feet left the ground, and Kharnine whooped as the two of them rose above the grass higher into the air. Eragon laughed and began to clap,

"Well done! Well done!" He called, as Shillith gained altitude and began to curve, the Urgal girl bellowing a triumphant cry from his back.

"Well," Eragon turned to Murtagh with a sparkling smile, "I'd say a flight is a good way to distract you from that drink?" He offered.

Murtagh looked to Thorn, who wriggled in delight.

"His saddle's not on," Murtagh pointed out.

"Ah," Eragon dismissed with a wave of his hand as he climbed onto Saphira, "Cast a ward around your legs; we'll do it the old fashioned way."

Unless you think Thorn will drop you, Saphira said playfully, arching her neck in challenge. Thorn snorted in mock offense, a tendril of smoke curling from his nostrils.

"Alright," Murtagh relented, and he climbed up onto Thorn as Shillith circled ever higher, angling up the mountain.

"Oh, by the way," Eragon called from Saphira's back, "The supply train arrived while you were with the Eldunari. The Queen has sent a letter asking for us to designate a rider liaison, to visit her as soon as possible. I thought I'd send you."

Murtagh frowned.

"Arya was just here this summer. What could she need from us?"

Eragon's eyes sparkled with a knowing smile.

"Not that Queen."

And then Saphira launched herself into the sky as Murtagh was buffeted both by the thunder of her wings and a sudden numb, tingling feeling in the base of his skull.

"Race you to the top!" Eragon's voice called out from above, and Murtagh had only a second to grip onto Thorn's neck spike before the red dragon shot from the ground, trumpeting his challenge to the sky.

THE END

Part 3 in this series will be called "This and Every Lifetime"