Chapter 7: One of Us.

Eragon savoured the wind as it blew through his hair. Gods did he miss the wind, lovely chaotic, merciless wind, that cared not if it was a refreshing breeze or a bone chilling one, wind simply was and Eragon loved it.

'Dive, low' he told Saphira, she pulled her wings close, and angled them towards the ground.

They gathered immense speed, until Eragon could feel his face being pulled from the sheer force, then, within twenty feet of Farthen Dur's floor, Saphira snapped open her wings and in several heavy beats carried them high again.

"HAHAHAHAHA!" Eragon laughed to the sky as they flew, King and Queen of all they surveyed.

They flew high above Tronjheim, where crenulated icicles hung from the sides of Farthen Dur, forming a great white band around the crater.

Though it was still hours until night it was already dark within the mountain.

'I like this place' he told her as they flew looking at the land below 'but it's a bit empty. There are no plants or animals, just...' he gestured to everything in general 'this. It's as dead as and devoid of life as Ajihad's tomb. This barrenness... I don't like it.'

'You liked it in the desert' she said, gliding around lazily.

'The desert was different, there was life there, just hidden, or underground, it was barren but not like this is. Here this is no life, just... nothing, not even flowers.'

'Dwarves do seem to think gems take the place of flowers.'

Eragon nodded in agreement 'Though personally I too would prefer gems to flowers, gems are far more valuable.'

'Oh?' Saphira sounded genuinely shocked 'Does my Rider think of value?'

'Saphira...' he glanced down at the back of her head 'I did try to sell you.'

Saphira took a moment to search through his memories before roaring with an accompanying jet of flame and spinning sharply in an attempt to dislodge him. The fall would likely kill him and leave his body spattered over the ground, but Eragon only found her attempts playful. He only laughed in joy as she attempted, the saddle held him down and prevented inevitable death quite nicely.

'Come on, let's go back' he said once the light had faded so much that he struggled to see. Saphira turned them towards Tronjheim, drifting down as they drew nearer to Tronjheim. In the darkness Tronjheim shone like a great beacon.

'Look' she said, breaking the silence that accompanied their return and angling towards one of the four roads that left Tronjheim along the compass points.

'At what?' Eragon asked, his eyes struggling to see. He could only seem a small patch of white on a nearby hill.

Not long before they landed Eragon's eyes could make out what the patch was and he could see Angela, who wore a pale tunic, a wicker basket four feet across in her hand.

"Gathering toadstools?" he asked as she approached where they had landed.

"Hello" said Angela cheerfully, putting her basket down "Oh no, toadstools is far to general a term. And anyway, they really ought to be called frogstools not toadstool."

"You're still going on about that" he muttered, clambering down from the saddle.

She spread out the toadstools with her hand, ignoring his comment "This one is sulphur tuft, this is an inkcap, a navelcap here, dwarf shield, russet tough-shank, blood ring and that is a spotted deceiver. Delightful isn't it" she smiled at him, cheery as can be, as she point out each one in turn.

"That one?" he asked, pointing at a lightning blue stemmed mushroom with a molten orange gills and a glossy black two tiered cap.

"Fricai Anglat" she said, looking at it fondly "as the elves might say. The stalk is instant death, while the cap can cure most poisons. It's what Tunivors Nectar is extracted from. Fricai Andlat only grows in the caves in Du Weldenvarden and Farthen Dur, and it would die out here if the dwarves started carting their dung elsewhere."

Eragon glanced back at the hill, so it was really a massive pile of shit "Tunivors Nectar... I think I know that from somewhere."

Angela rolled her eyes "It's what they used to heal Arya you dolt."

Eragon brightened up with a grin "Of course it is, I knew I knew it from somewhere. Anyway I like the stalk better..." Angela gave him an odd look "its blue" was his justification.

She smiled, with no small amount of amusement "Hello Saphira" Angela reached past Eragon to pat Saphira on the nose. Saphira blinked a bit shocked, but looked pleased, her tail twitching.

At the Same time Solembum padded into sight, his mouth clamp firmly around a limp rat. Without so much as a flick of his whiskers, the werecat settled on the ground and began to nibble to the rodent, studiously ignoring the three of them.

"Hello to you too, mangy old cat" Eragon called to him, receiving no response.

"So" said Angela, fiddling with a curl of her enormous hair "off to Ellesmera?"

"How exactly do you know everything that's going on?" he asked with a frown.

"A gift" she stared at his face, which remained grumpy, for a while, then scowled "you shouldn't be so morose. It's not as if you're going to your execution."

"Really?" Eragon glared over at her "Fucking feels like it. Going to live amongst... elves" he gagged dramatically "Oh woe is me, forced to live amongst the fair folk for god for fucking ages!"

Angela shook her head at him, and his rant "Feel better now?"

"I've met Arya you know, if they're all like that I am fucked."

"I'm sure they're not" she said, patting his arm comfortingly "Tell me, have you ever tried smiling" she asked at his still pouting face "After all this isn't your execution, you're not going to your death, so you should be happy... somewhat. You" she poked him in the chest "are as flaccid as Solembum's rat... Flaccid. What a delightful word don't you think?"

The rider grinned at this, and his dragon chortled as well "I thought it being stiff was better."

Angela grimaced "If you're going to make sex jokes I'm going to leave."

Eragon raised his hands in surrender "I'll be good."

The witch half smiled half scowled at him.

"Flaccid" he said the word, thinking about it "I suppose it's a goodish word, though personally I prefer genocide, it rolls easily off the tongue I find."

Angela stopped fiddling with a mushroom to consider it "Hmm, genocide" she said slowly, rolling the word around her mouth and testing it "I'm not sure" she rubbed at her chin, thinking carefully "No, it's nowhere near as good as flaccid."

"You're right" Eragon agreed "It's much better."

Angela, sensing a challenge, stood tall, as did Eragon, and faced the rider head... well, chest on, she wasn't exactly tall "No it's not" she disagreed glaring up at the Shade.

"Yes, it is."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

"No, it's not."

"Is."

"Not."

"Is."

"Not."

"Is!"

"Not!"

"Is!"

"Not!"

"Not!

"Is!" Angela paused "Oh bugger" she cursed softly as her defeat.

"So, you going to accompany the Varden to Surda?" he asked, grinning at his hard earned victory.

"Of course, as I told you before, I like to be where things are happening, and that's where it's at."

Eragon grinned even more "Then we'll be fine, otherwise you'd be with us" he patted Saphira, leaning against the dragon's side.

Angela shrugged, her face unusually serious "Be careful in Du Weldenvarden. Just because elves do not display their emotions doesn't mean they aren't subject to rage and passion like the rest of us mortals. What can make them so deadly is who they conceal it, sometimes for years."

Eragon met her gaze "I'm not a mortal" he reminded the witch "Very little can match me, and I'll be damned if elves are one of them."

"I'm more than certain that Arya did match you."

He grinned darkly "She's a special case... besides, I could match her before" he stood tall again, towering over the diminutive witch "After my defeat of Durza, when I absorbed his spirits into me, I only got stronger."

Her eyes widened almost unnoticeably.

"Come on, you must have known, you treated me afterwards, surely you knew exactly what was going on" he tapped the side of his head "in here" an arrogant smirk rested his face and his crimson eyes glowed in the dark of Tronjheim.

"I didn't" she answered calmly, the only sign of her unease was the fact that she didn't meet his gaze but instead surveyed her mushrooms "But I suspected."

"Fair enough."

Silence crept upon the two, as Angela examined and checked her toadstools and Eragon just gazed at the patch of sky he could see from Tronjheim.

"Have you been to Ellesmera, it sure sounds like it?"

"I have... once upon a time."

Eragon frowned at her vagueness, but didn't bother inquiring further, he just sighed and looked away, leaving the subject alone "What do you think of Nasuada's plans."

"Mmm... she's doomed!" she exclaimed suddenly "You're doomed! They're all doomed!" she cackled madly, doubling over. After a few moments she straightened abruptly "Notice I didn't specify what type of doom, so no matter what happens, I predicted it. How very wise of me."

Eragon smirked. Angela was an odd one, Eragon was a dragon rider shade and even he thought that of the small witch.

She lifted up her basket and rested it against one hip "I suppose I won't see you for while, so farewell, best of luck, avoid roasted cabbage, don't eat earwax, and look on the bright side of life!"

And with a cheery wink she strolled off leaving Eragon still smirking amusedly.

Solembum picked up his dinner and followed, after the an appropriate pause of course, ever so dignified.

Eragon and Saphira broke down laughing.

"And how are you, my friend?" he asked the horse after exiting Tronjheim's north gate, that had been raised just enough to let Saphira passed.

He stroked a hand through Snowfire's mane.

'I wonder how Tornac is' he scowled at the ground as he thought of the grey horse, or more importantly its rider.

They waited in the recessed area beyond the gates, red jasper pillars towered upwards and carved beasts snarled in between them. Past those, at the very edge of Tronjheim, sat two thirty foot high gold griffins, identical pairs of which guarded each of city mountains gates.

No one else was in sight.

Snowfire pawed the floor impatiently he had not been ridden for over a week. The horse had been brushed, reshod and saddled, and his saddlebags were bulging with supplies for the road.

"No horse?" he asked Orik, when the dwarf stomped towards him, a large pack on his back and a bundle in his arms "You going to walk to Du Weldenvarden?"

Orik shook his head, grunting "We'll be stopping at Tarnag, just north of here. From there we take rafts along the Az Ragni to Hedarth, an outpost for trading with the elves. We won't need steeds before Hedarth, so I'll use my own feet until then."

"Fair enough. So what's that?" he asked as Orik put the bundle he was carrying down on the ground.

Orik unwrapped it with a grin, revealing Eragon's armour.

The shield had been repainted and repaired, the oak emblems clear in the centre and all the scars and scars removed. All the damage was gone.

The mail shirt was burnished and oiled, the steel rings glinted beautifully. On its back there was no sign of where Durza had sliced through the mail.

The coif, gloves, bracers and greaves and helm were all likewise repaired, the helm was, noticeably, facing away from him.

"Our greatest smiths worked on these" said Orik "As well as your armour Saphira. However, since we cannot take the dragon armour with us, it was given to the Varden, who will guard it till our return."

'Thank him for me' Saphira told him.

Eragon did so and slid the armour in Snowfire's saddle bags, knowing it would only weigh him down and make him uncomfortable to wear it now.

Lastly he reached for the helm, only to find it had moved, and was now in Orik's hands, the dwarf rubbing at a non-existent mark.

"Before that Eragon" there was a note of seriousness in his voice "There are two things. Firstly" he placed the helm down, once again making sure the brow faced away from Eragon.

Orik reached down into the fabric of the bundle again, picking up a long leather box with a golden latch on the front. Eragon hadn't noticed it before, the black leather matching the bundle's material nicely. Though in truth the shiny armour had distracted him somewhat.

The dwarf opened it, and marvelled at its contents, keeping it turned away from Eragon.

"After the battle, our finest bowyers worked to make this, a gift from Hrothgar, as King of the Dwarves."

He turned it around, revealing an ebony coloured bow, the fact that it was sat amidst crushed crimson velvet was all he really gathered before his eyes were absorbed in just looking at the bow.

Small patterns, gold inlays, were wrapped around the bow, they were all but simple lines, yet they curved and spiralled beautifully around the bow, contrasting wonderfully with the darkness of the bow.

"It was made from the finest pair of Urgal horn we could find after the battle, given the amount of Urgals there were this was quite a fine pair, the bowyers said the best they had ever seen."

Eragon heard him, but he wasn't listening, his eyes and mind refused to leave the bow.

"Take it" that he did hear and, with something akin to nervousness, he reached out with his pale finger. They wrapped around the cool horn, and he hefted it into the air.

For its size it was quite heavy.

"Here" Orik handed him a black string, made from a material Eragon didn't recognise, not that he cared, and strung the bow carefully, afraid of scuffing its shiny finished.

"Our bowyers were dismayed at the prospect of making one of these so quickly, and several of our spell casters had to be roped in to speed the process" he was informed "Looking at it though, I don't think it did much harm, or any rather."

Eragon pulled the string back, testing the bows strength. It was incredible. The weight would be impossible to get out of wood. It was only slightly longer than his old bow but its draw strength was greater than that of the massive yew longbow he had used.

"Thank you" he said, holding it reverently "Thank you" he continued, his voice regained strength and arrogance "I'll make sure it kills many an enemy for Hrothgar."

Orik smiled at Eragon fairly obvious cheer as he continued to look at the bow "I'm glad you like it so much. Apologies that the decoration isn't much, they had wanted to inlay an intricate dragon upon it, but it was only ready for decoration this morning and they didn't have the time."

"Doesn't matter" Eragon continued to examine his new bow "It's perfect."

Orik proffered the leather case to Eragon, who took it and unstrung the bow, laying it carefully down in the crushed velvet.

The quiver drew Eragon's eye now, it was made of shiny black leather, much like the case, and would conform perfectly to his back when worn, he could also store the bow within it, even whilst it was fully strung. It could be held on his back by the long strap attached to it, or the strap could be adjusted so that he could wear the quiver at his waist.

At the bottom on the left side was a small dagger, sitting in its sheath, that was unnoticeably sewn into the quiver itself, the knife wouldn't be useful for much, outside of hunting, but in a tight spot could be a life saver.

A dozen arrows rest in the quiver, they were made of a dark material similar to the bow, but this was clearly wood as he could feel grain in the polished shaft. The heads were made of darkened metal and didn't glint in the light and the fletching was done using crimson feathers that looked like they had been dipped in blood.

Eragon grinned at that 'Nice touch.'

Also sat in the case was a black leather bracer that would keep his wrist from being hurt by the string or fletching, this was unadorned and probably thrown in at the last moment, though of admittedly high quality.

Eragon carefully set everything down in the leather case, making sure nothing would damage the bow, then carefully strapped it onto Saphira, and mad certain the case wouldn't wobble too much during flight.

'Are you happy with your new stick-thrower?' she asked him as he did that.

'Yes... I am' Eragon said with a smile, sounding genuinely happy, something that made Saphira happy as well. Nothing cheered Eragon up like receiving another weapon of slaughter 'Orik said these sorts of bows were for dwarves only, so it must have taken Hrothgar a lot of time to convince them to make one for me. I'll have to thank him next time I see him.'

'Perhaps with more punctuality than you usually have' Saphira said, reminding him gently, while nodding in agreement, as he clambered down.

"Thanks for the reminder" he said to his dragon patting her "Orik, thank you, for the armour, and I retract my screw you."

Orik chuckled, remembering it fondly. Then his face turned serious, somewhere halfway between pleased and troubled. He reached down and picked up the gold and silver helm he had placed on the ground.

The dwarf met Eragon's eyes "Mine king, Hrothgar, desires that I present this helm as a symbol of the friendship he bears for you" he turned it around, revealing the hammer and stars that was the symbol of the Durgrimst Ingeitum, Orik and Hrothgar's clan "And with it Hrothgar extends an offer to adopt you as one of the Durgrimst Ingeitum, as a member of his own family."

Eragon stared at the helm, his face utterly serious.

"One thing, before you answer" Orik interrupted as Eragon tried to speak "The bow was a gift to you, for the aid you rendered us in the battle and for the hope you gave us, Saphira, for agreeing to fix the Isidar Mirtirm. Hrothgar does not wish that gift to affect your decision. We will not be offended should not chose not to accept, nor retract our gift."

'It seems like politics is still dogging me, one day I'll have to put down the dumb bitch' he said to Saphira, not really angry, either at the politics or the offer, just somewhere between shocked and amused.

"Has this been done often?" he asked, after Orik's speech.

"For a human? Never. Hrothgar argued with the Ingeitum families for a day and a night before they agreed to accept you. If you consent to bear our crest you will have full rights as clan member. You may attend our councils and give voice on every issue. And" his tone grew sombre "if you so wish, you will have the right to be buried with our dead."

That was a true honour, and even Eragon knew it. The enormity of Hrothgar's offer was truly brought home with that, as he was offered the highest honour the dwarves could give. It was almost enough to convince him to take the helm right then and there... almost.

"A question, if I may" Orik blinked at his politeness but nodded "With this will I be subjected to his rule? Will I be expected to address him with the respect he, as King, deserves and bow before him?"

Orik chuckled at the questions "My King already gave me the answer to that, he said 'As usual Shadeslayer you will do as you please, I do not wish you to bow before me and you may address me as you wish' as for rule" Orik raised a hand and scratched at his bearded chin "you will not be ordered as any dwarf, for you are indeed special. But you would be expected to listen to his council and agree with his requests, to an extent."

"Then one last question" Eragon knelt down to look Orik dead in the eye, looking for any hint of doubt "Does he know what this means?"

Orik met his gaze, unable to suppress a shudder but kept the gaze of those crimson eyes "I think so."

Eragon nodded "I hope he does, because this will make him many enemies. If I take this helm I too will make many enemies. It is a stupid foolish idea, a pathetic attempt to right the balance of power, unworthy of consideration" Orik scowled but nodded, unable to deny the truth of his words "So I won't consider it."

His scowled darkened, but then he looked up at Eragon confused.

"Come on Orik" Eragon taunted "I'm the type who likes to jump off of cliffs without planning too."

He stood tall, sweeping the helm from the dwarf's hands and pressed it down upon his head, a smirk on his face "I will join the Durgrimst Ingeitum."

A smile returned to Orik's face and he nodded in approval "Then take this Knurlnien, this Heart of Stone, and cup it between your hands, yes like so. You must steel yourself now and prick open a vein to wet the stone" Eragon sliced open his wrist with Durza's sword, not flinching as blood sprayed from his wrist onto the Knurlnien. Orik blinked "A few drops would have sufficed, but oh well. To finish repeat after me: Os il dom qiranu carn dur thargen, zeitmen, oen grimst vor formv edaris rak skilfz. Narho is belgond..." it was a lengthy recitation, made all the longer by Orik stopping every few sentences to translate.

"Whatever else the clan may say about this business" said Orik as Eragon examined his still bleeding wrist "you have behaved with integrity and respect... in your own way. They cannot ignored that" he grinned "We are of the same clan now, eh? You are my foster brother! Under more normal circumstances, Hrothgar would have present your helm himself and we would have held a lengthy ceremony to commemorate your induction into Durgrimst Ingeitum, but events move to swiftly for us to tarry."

"Thank the gods" Eragon whispered healing his wrist with a few words.

"Fear not that you are being slighted, though!" Orik had heard what he said and continued, crushing Eragon's hopes "Your adoption shall be celebrated with the proper ritual when you and Saphira next return to Farthen Dur. You shall feast and dance and have many a pieces of paper to sign in order to formalize your new position, doesn't that sound fun?"

Eragon groaned loudly, but stopped suddenly, his face turning grave "Orik... brother" Orik smiled at the title and nodded "I know that Hrothgar knows of my... circumstances, do you?"

Eragon stared at him, his crimson eyes burning with undue malice, and Orik flinched.

"Yes" he said looking away "My King explained what he knew of your condition to me after his meeting with you. He meant no offence, only wished me to know of your condition and... to be wary."

"And what do you think?" Eragon asked, his voice barely above a whisper, but it sounded above everything, as if the world itself was afraid of being louder than Eragon

"I don't know" Orik answered truthfully "All I do know is that you, though bloodthirsty, violent and flippant, have done nothing to harm my people, expect knocking one on the head" Eragon smiled at the reminder of his time at the training field "I don't know what to think of what you are. But I do think I know who you are and that you are... my friend" he was hesitant to state the part, but did so looking Eragon straight in the eye.

Eragon flinched at the term You've been a really good friend, thanks those words, he had spoken to Murtagh so long ago now, defining what they were for the first time, not simply companions on a journey, but friends who would fight for each other. He shoved down these thoughts and the sadness that came with them and instead grinned down at Orik "Of course, brother."

Orik chuckled "You're one of us now, brother" he responded, leaning himself against a pillar "It doesn't matter who you are, or what you are, so long as you at least stand by us, if not with us, we will always stand with you."

Eragon sat down next to Saphira and waited in silence, once again consumed by thoughts of Murtagh, his anger and hate built up and only through Saphira's calming thoughts did he manage to keep calm.

"Barzul knular!" Orik cursed after several minutes "Where are they? Arya said she would be right here. Ha! Elves' only concept of time is late and even later."

"Dealt with them much? And what does Barzul mean, I've heard a few dwarves us it?" asked Eragon from where he lay against Saphira's side.

"Barzul? It means ill fate, and no, only Arya, and then sporadically because she travelled so often, you know in seven decades I've learned one things about her. You can't rush and elf. Trying is like hammering a file, it might break, but it'll never bend."

"And if you hammer stone it will be smashed into rubble" Eragon reminded him.

"True, but stone will shift, given time" Orik sighed and shook his head "Of all the races elves change the least, which is one reason I'm reluctant to go."

"Oh and what are the others?" asked Eragon looking around with boredom.

"There are important tasks to perform in Tronjheim and our others cities, yet I must tramp across Alagaesia to exchange pleasantries and sit and grow fat as you are tutored. It could take years!"

Eragon scowled to one side "We don't have that sort of time."

Orik looked over at him shamefaced "You're right of course, we don't."

A depressing silence engulfed the two as they both pondered how little time they truly had.

"At last!" Orik muttered standing after seven minutes of the uncomfortable quiet.

Nasuada, Jormundur and Arya, who carried a pack like Orik's, approached the pair, Eragon didn't bother standing for them, merely kept lounging against Saphira, letting the Ingeitum symbol flash on his helm.

Nasuada came to stand in front of him, and Eragon looked up at her lazily "Sup?"

"You accepted" she said gently, her voice restrained.

Eragon did stand now and brought his face close to hers, as he often did to make a point, check if someone was serious, or simply tease them, often a mix of all three "Obviously... you're looking at a proud member of Durgrimst Ingeitum."

She smiled an odd smile "I wondered if you would. Now once again all three races have a hold on you. The dwarves can claim your allegiance as a member of Durgrimst Ingeitum, the elves will train and shape you, and you have given your loyalty to me, a human. Perhaps it is best we share your allegiance."

"Maybe" he said teasingly.

She tried to press a small bag of coins into his hands but he waved it away "Don't bother, you keep it. What need do I have for money?"

Nasuada blinked in shock but nodded and backed away.

"My uncle once said something to me" Eragon said, stopping her in her tracks "'Saving a single crown may not mean much, but do it a hundred times and it means much.'"

Once against she blinked, this time at the almost random reminiscing "Your uncle sounds like a wise man" but still responded respectfully.

"Yes, he was. Something we share, he was as good as my father and he was killed by the empire, that's what started my quest against Galbatorix, that's why I'm going to kill him. Beforehand, I might have even considered joining him."

Another blink this time at his blunt honestly, but she smiled this time thinking she understood, somewhat "Thank you, Shadesl... Eragon" she placed the coins back into her dress.

Eragon leant forwards "Your welcome" he raised a hand and patted her gently on the head. When she looked up at him she found an inscrutable smile on his face, she couldn't tell if it was amused or if it was a genuinely caring smile.

He stepped back from the older woman who he had just made feel like a child and Jormundur approached.

The older man extended a hand, which Eragon shook, making sure to at the very least bruise the other man's fingers. Jormundur may have reacted well considering everything, and even earned a smidgen of Eragon's respect, but he had still tried to force him to give his fealty.

"Have a good trip, Eragon. Guard yourself well" the man barely reacted, except for a slight wince, to the crushing force acting upon his hand, and when Eragon let go Jormundur just let his hand fall to his side, not even holding it in pain.

Eragon grinned at him, another smidgen of respect earned.

"Come" said Arya, gliding past them into the darkness of Farthen Dur "It is time to leave. Aiedail has set, and we have far to go."

"Aye" Orik agreed, pulling a red lantern from the side of his pack, the same kind was used in the rest of Tronjheim.

Nasuada looked them over once more, not missing the almost sad look to Eragon's face before a smirk replaced it "Very well. Eragon and Saphira" she addressed the pair, putting aside what she had seen, but not forgetting it "you have the Varden's blessings, as well as mine. May your journey be safe. Remember, you carry the weight of our hopes and expectation, so acquit yourselves honourably."

"Please" Eragon said shaking his head "Honour is my middle name."

He stomped off, urging Snowfire after him with his mind and Saphira moving along with the horse, Eragon walked up to alongside Arya and matched her pace.

As Saphira moved past Nasuada she paused and lightly licked her on the cheek, very lightly as otherwise Nasuada would be left with a torn apart cheek, but a blessing and a message of good will from a dragon all the same.

Saphira led the back of their troop, Snowfire was next, then Orik, then Eragon and Arya who were having a silent and unnoticed race.

When the gate was far behind them Eragon fell back, to walk alongside Saphira, and looked back, just the once, to the pinprick of light that was in fact the gate, and the two lonely silhouettes that was Nasuada and Jormundur who remained watching.

Then he faced forwards and kept walking.

They came to Farthen Dur's base where they were greeted by a pair of thirty feet tall doors, open and waiting. Three dwarf guards bowed and moved away from the aperture.

The tunnel behind the doors was of matching proportions, lined with columns and lanterns for the first fifty feet, after that darkness, only foreboding emptiness and silence.

It looked almost exactly like the western entrance Eragon had arrived through not much more than a week ago, but this tunnel was vastly different.

Perhaps not in size or in function but in the sheer scale of the project itself, after all instead of burrowing through a mile thick base to create an entrance to the outside, this one ploughed beneath mountain after mountain, all the way to the dwarf city of Tarnag.

"Here is our path" said Orik, raising his lantern.

Orik and Arya crossed the threshold, but Eragon stopped at the entrance.

He wasn't afraid of the dark, but couldn't help but be reminded of that place, the chair, the light, and the dark, the voices, and finally, most importantly, those crimson eyes.

Was that what everyone else saw, was that what he subjected them to?

Then he looked at the tunnel again, the barren bleak tunnel. Once in there he would be hurling himself into the unknown, abandoning the few things he had grown accustomed to among the Varden, in exchange for an uncertain destiny.

'Something wrong?' Saphira stopped as she was about to pass by to stare into the tunnel with him.

'Absolutely nothing, babe' with that and a grin Eragon walked forwards.

Charing headfirst into the unknown, definitely his favourite thing.