Eragon stood at a crossroads. More now, perhaps than he had ever been. Before, he had had Brom for guidance, then Oromis, but now he found himself facing decisions that were truly only his to make. And, in a way, it terrified him.
Sitting back in a leather bound chair, he sighed, peering over numerous charts, papers, and ink bottles strewn over his desk. Rubbing his eyes and sliding a hand down his face, Eragon eyes flickered up as Saphira's mental voice filled his mind. "There's no use in spending all of your time pondering, little one."
Eragon knew she was right, as apart from reconstruction efforts in the city, he had become somewhat of a recluse. The war had been nonstop for him and many others, and he felt it had become his norm to be in some sort of action.
Acknowledging this, he gave a small smile, his emotion reflecting across their bond to Saphira.
"Some fresh air would do me some good"
As Eragon strode out of the Varden's de facto headquarters, he pondered the turmoil the city was recovering from, and what remained. War had not been kind to Illrea. The once-elven city had seen yet more of it's priceless historical architecture leveled in the blast that had ended Galbatorix's life, as well as the entirety of citadel. Life, however, kept moving in Illrea despite the devastation. After only a month since the Varden's victory, Eragon was surprised to see how well the city was beginning to recover. The outer and inner layers of the city had seen the worst of Uru'baen's siege, with the Varden's catapults causing devastation to the shopkeepers and homeowners near the wall. While this was an unfortunate byproduct of a siege, it was not an unexpected one. The sheer destruction of the inner section of the city however, was. The explosion from within had vaporized much of the ground floor in the black castle, and flying debris had shredded many an affluent house to the ground in the surrounding area.
After months of toil and work, the Varden was making much progress, in spite of the city's state. Through years of being an army on the move and working with any and all materials available, most in the Varden had found themselves with some construction experience, and the army had turned into a humanitarian force almost within a night. Homes were rebuilt, roads reopened, and whatever food and water available was distributed from soldiers themselves. While citizens themselves were cautiously accepting of this generosity, Eragon knew a large part of this charity was to keep the will of the people leaning positively towards the Varden. Which honestly wasn't a hard task to do, as life directly under the King was rigid, and for most, poverty stricken. But, as Nasuada had once told him in the Siege of Belatona, "Our cause rests on the hearts and minds."
As he strode to the imposing front gates, long since cleared of the rubble that had once rained down on this part of the city, Eragon exited Illrea proper, and entered into the countryside where the Varden had laid siege. Walking further out into the scattered buildings and grassy fields surrounding the east of the city, Eragon reached with his mind to find Saphira flying above the clouds over the countryside. Feeling his tendril of thought brush against her mind, she followed into a dive. Landing in front of him, Eragon couldn't help but marvel at his dragon, sapphire scales sparkling in the noon sunlight. If not for his own memories, Eragon would've found it hard to believe he had ever been able to hold Saphira In his arms. Saphira stood tall on the abandoned field where Eragon stood, almost a full 80 feet long. Her shoulder, which he had watched move from the level of his knee, to his shoulder, then to the horse's shoulder, now rested almost in line with the roof of the derelict grain barn at the end of the field. As Saphira turned her head to look at him, he crouched, and with a leap only elves could match, jumped and grabbed a large spike on the base of her neck, swinging a leg over her broad neck. As he settled himself in the spot where a saddle would be, Eragon leaned back. Already, he could feel his legs grate against iron hard scales. He muttered skolir to himself, and felt the unpleasant sensation disappear.
"Ready?" Saphira asked, noticing his use of magic. "Ready" Eragon said back, the wind tossing his sandy brown hair and a smile spreading on his face. Saphira needed no encouragement. Her wings, now such a span as to appear as blue field on either side of her rider, flapped twice with a speed uncanny for such a massive creature. Eragon watched the ground drift away and the horizon spread out in all directions in front of him. As Saphira leveled her ascent, he gazed at the sun reflecting off the clouds, and if only for a moment, left his worries behind on the ground. As they flew in lazy circles over the recovering city, Eragons came back to himself, and pondered his troubles.
Despite scouring every map, chart, and topographical sketch he could get his hands on, he couldn't find a place he and the Eldunari could consider suitable for a rebirth of the Rider Order. As far as Eragon could discern, most sizable regions of land in Alegasia where either claimed, inhabited, or desolate. The heartland of Alegasia was in some form or another claimed by humans, be it Surda to the south or the now renamed Broddring Kingdom on the western seaboard and in the central landmass. To the North, the Elves claimed the forest of Du Weldenvarden for much of its expanse, until their hold dwindling in the permanently frozen high north. The Boer Mountains, of course, was territory to the dwarves. While much lay uninhabited, Eragon was keenly aware from Orik that much of dwarven society depended on the food that the abnormally large animals native to the range provided. A food source that, as Orik had subtly implied more than a few times, was incapable of providing for both dwarfs and dragons. Eragon knew that history had proven that dynamic, and he had no desire to attempt to break it. And with that, he was left without options. Vroengard was incapable of habitation, The Hadarac was incapable of permanent settlement due to the difficulty (even with magic) of acquiring water, and The Spine, while not officially claimed, was notoriously inhabited by Urgals. Saphira's voice chimed in "well, what else does that leave you with?" As her head turned towards the direction of the Sea, Eragon's curiosity was peaked. After spending the first 15 years of his life in Palancar Valley, he remembered seeing the wide, open plains between Utgard and Daret, and how awestruck he had been to see the world open up before him. His curiosity, while being both a curse and blessing for him before, was part of him and part of what drove him into that plain, into the unknown. Gazing towards the far off ridge that he knew to be the Spine, he thought of the Sea and what lay beyond, if anything did.
"Of course there is, how else would the Elves have come?" Saphira remarked, and Eragon agreed, remembering what little Oromis had said about the woodland people's love for the distant ocean. Eragon looked down, in thought. "Saphira, if the opportunity ever arose…would you try to find them? He felt a questioning sensation through their link. "We can't say if there's anyone to find, much less if my wings can take us there" Eragon was slightly confused at her hesitancy, it wasn't in the azure dragon's nature to back down. Looking in her mind, however, he saw that she held a deep respect for the oceans power, a far cry from the dragon of a year ago, unaware of the perils of sea flight. However, within her he sensed a curiosity like his own, a reflection of his personality onto hers.
"Mayhaps, but both human and elven legends tell of a departure from across the sea, while none tell of an arrival from the east" Eragon replied. "Ask the eldunari what they know about the West, perhaps there's a place for the Riders", Saphira said.
Eragon agreed, and as he had gathered a rather large interest in geography from his months of study, was looking forward to asking. The eldunari held within themselves such a vast quantity of information, Eragon found it hard to converse with a large number of them, and nearly impossible to grasp anything meaningful from the very eldest. But, their wisdom was unparalleled, and as he gazed to the west from dragonback, he wondered if perhaps a solution lie in waiting, somewhere over the vast Sea.
