Chapter 20: The Start of a Good Day.

He had been waiting for the exact count of five minutes when his quarry arrived, brown haired, pale skinned, not tall by elven standards, but likely so for humans, bulky compared to elves too, bulky and lumbering, lacking fluidity and grace in his movements. The young elf he touched two fingers to his lips once the Rider was aware of him, his dragon swooping down behind him, and spoke first, as he was expected to do "May good fortune rule over you."

There was a moment, the Rider looked at him through tired eyes, tired red eyes that made him shiver a little, then shrugged and nodded, vaguely acknowledging the greeting.

He forced a scowl off of his face at this disrespect, both of him and of his culture, and instead greeted the far more important dragon the same, speaking first, of course "May good fortune rule over you."

'And may the stars watch over you' the dragon responded her voice echoing loud and proud in his mind. She was beautiful, there could be no doubts in anyone's mind of that. But…

He glanced at the Rider, for a mere fraction of the second, before returning his gaze to the mighty dragon and finishing the full phrase, being especially formal this day, to her "And may peace live in your heart" he bowed to her "I am Vanir of House Haldthin."

'Greetings, Vanir of House Haldthin' the dragon's voice rumbled into his mind again 'I am Saphira.'

"Eragon" the Rider said, yawning.

He attempted to act honoured at being told their names, he knew them already of course, but it was a struggle, with the Riders incompetence, or rudeness, rubbing him the wrong way.

Vanir turned to address the Rider again "I will show you where you may practise with your blade" he told him, turning on his heel and walking away, not waiting for Eragon to catch up.

And thus he was stood at the sparring field a full five minutes as Eragon slowly stumbled towards him, the sparring yard was busier than it usually was. Likely word had spread that the Dragon Rider would be training here this morning, and with a Dragon Rider oft came a Dragon.

Indeed Saphira did accompany her Rider, sauntering but a pace or two behind him, displaying far greater grace on her four legs than Eragon could on his two.

The clang of steel silenced for a moment as Saphira entered into full view, all elves turned to her, and partially, he suspected, to Eragon as well, and bowed. They all swiftly returned to their practise, trying to keep the half eye they had on the Rider a secret.

They were all interested in the how the human Rider would compare to one of their own, and Vanir had every intent on displaying just how dissatisfactory Eragon was as a Dragon Rider, of course if he was skilled then Vanir would be pleased, obviously, or so he told himself to keep it from being just a petty hate.

He was merely dissatisfied than a lesser race had been chosen, if this human performed better than he expected however, then he would be quite happy to acknowledge his mistake. Or so he truly believed.

"If you will guard you sword, Silver Hand, we will begin."

Eragon nodded and guarded his blade, midway through he got distracted however and was clearly talking with his dragon, he rested the sword gently on his shoulder as he did so, the wine red blade glinting in the sunlight that pierced the canopy.

Vanir scowled, and, in a swift movement, slapped Eragon with the flat of his blade on his wrist.

Zar'roc, the wine red blade of the Wyrdfell, Morzan, fell to the hard packed dirt floor with a muted bump while his own slender blade touched the Rider's neck, its unguarded edge drawing a thin line of blood from the Rider's flesh "Dead" he said softly, loud enough for only Eragon to hear "You should be more cautious, Silver Hand" he said calmly, stepping back from his attacking stance as Eragon stared at the red welt on his wrist "Attacks can come from anyplace at any time, and your enemies will like not spare you in war."

He felt some scowls towards him, but ignored them, as Eragon wiped the blood from his neck with the black of his arm.

"My apologies" Vanir bowed, low and mocking, his face twisting into a dark smile as it was hidden from his, his gaze upon the dirt "I did not guard my own blade before drawing it, forgive me" every word coming out of his mouth was pure mockery, dripping with his distaste for the human Rider.

He felt the Rider's hand on his shoulder and felt himself grimace at the touch "All is forgiven" and then a heavy impact slammed into the back of head.

Vanir fell to the ground from the blow, his eyes flashed white, his head ringing loudly even as he lost his balance, all while he was lying on the floor. He struggled up, anger in his eyes, and found the Rider still stood over him, Zar'roc in his hand, blood staining the ruby pommel, smiling.

"Attacks can come from anyplace, at any time" Eragon told him, grinning.

And Vanir felt anger rear its ugly head and let it take over.

He lashed out swiftly, coming to his feet in a sprint and spinning to bring his sword into a powerful blow as he came into range with the Rider. To his intense ire the blow was stopped by the Rider's own wine red blade, held in a single hand. The heavy blow made it shift, but did not break his guard, nor force the Rider to even step back.

Vanir leapt away with elven grace, putting several feet of distance between them. Eragon remained where he was, calming smiling as he took on a two handed stance with his sword "So now that we've got the pleasantries out of the way, shall we?" the Rider asked, his smile transforming into a soft grin that held malice like nothing Vanir had seen, save those red eyes that seemed to outshine the bright blade that glinting in the air beside them.

He clenched his teeth.

It wasn't a long fight, he mused in retrospect, barely a quarter, if even that, of the hour that Oromis wished him spend with the Rider. He had tested Eragon's defence time and again and found no holes, and where he saw holes only traps lay in wait. Twice he was knocked down, once he was disarmed, and three times he recovered, or rather was allowed to recover, as Eragon smiled, watching him.

Desperation and anger clawed at his insides, he refused to let be so dominated by this mere human, and so, as they clashed again, as his face was close enough to Eragon's to see the whites of his crimson eyes, he muttered low enough for none else to hear "You were the wrong choice, it should've been an elf" Eragon had merely smiled all the brighter, until the next line emerged from Vanir's mouth "Saphira must've been driven mad by her captivity to choose you as her Rider."

With those words Eragon's face was at first confused, then the cheer disappeared and only anger remained.

Taking advantage of that anger Vanir pulled back his blade and swung, cutting down Eragon's left arm, leaving a deep gash and letting blood pour free. But even as he celebrated his small victory, a hand reached out and grasped his bare blade. A moment's struggle, and Vanir was sent tumbling to the ground, his blade ripped from his hand and cast aside.

He tried to get up, only to duck as Eragon's sword went whizzing over his head, thrown by the man formerly wielding it. The Rider's knee was the next thing he knew, smashing into his face and sending him back down to the dirt. Unlike before, where the Rider had given him time to recover and reorient himself, this time there was no such mercy.

Eragon jumped on top of him, landing heavily on his chest and forcing the air from his lungs, then, with his arms pinned beneath the Rider's leg, he had started punching again, this time with both hands.

"You don't get to insult my dragon!" Eragon shouted, nay screamed, in his own human tongue, between his heavy blows "You don't get to talk about her like that!" he kept punching, Vanir's had his eyes closed and was shying away but Eragon wouldn't let him, he grabbed the elf's face and forced him to look into his eyes "You don't get to hate her!" he shouted, spit flying from his mouth onto the elves face "You don't even get to love her!" the blows came again, faster than before, while he struggled to free himself, he got an arm free and tried to cover his face but Eragon just punched his arm too "ONLY I GET TO DO THAT!" came his final, and his loudest shout.

It occurred to Vanir, in that moment, that aside from the sounds of the blows, the ringing in his ears, and Eragon's screams, there was no other noise in the training field.

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A hand grabbed him as he pulled back for a final, and most furious blow. Eragon didn't resist the grip, didn't try to push forward, he stopped. His anger didn't.

It still bubbled beneath the surface, raging like the stormy sea beneath an almost calm demeanour, so long as one didn't look at his eyes, those eyes revealed all his rage as he turned and face the person who dared to stop him.

Red met green, and Eragon found himself face to face with the elven princess Arya.

She pulled him to his feet and off of Vanir, and Eragon did not fail to notice a subtle gesture, nothing more than her eyes moved, and two other elves moved in to retrieve the bloody faced elf, perhaps while he hopefully did not notice. Only once they had done so did she let go of his arm.

Eragon's breathing was calm again, his heart beat steadily, but he was still so angry.

"You're wounded" Arya commented casually, glancing at the blood dripping from his arm. It wasn't the one she had grabbed, thankfully, that would've cause some pain. More so than it already was causing.

"You should see the other guy" Eragon said sarcastically, his voice more harsh and biting than he had intended. But she didn't flinch merely nodding in acknowledgement, the other guy did indeed look worse. She healed him without his permission, then went to pick up Vanir's sword, wiping his blood off of it with her white tunic, staining the fabric.

She wore very plain affair today, a white, now stained, tunic that went down to her knees. Brown leggings covered her legs till ankles, and a circle of flowers, actual flowers if he wasn't mistaken, themselves wrapped around a leather band, wrapped around her waist, making the unflattering tunic adhere more to her form.

Arya stood there, holding the sword, staring at him, for several long moment. Before finally cocking an eyebrow "Are you not going to draw your sword? Or retrieve it" she glanced at Zar'roc, embedded in a archery butt on the far side of the training ground.

No one around them was moving anymore, all sparring had ceased when Eragon began his relentless assault of Vanir, now it all stopped for the Rider and Princess, staring each other down.

Eragon laughed "You intend to fight me, Princess?" he said, as best he could in their damnable language.

"Do you forget I am a trained warrior? We elves teach our women to fight, Eragon, I hope I did not need to remind you that" there was no sternness in her voice, she was calm. She knew he wasn't, he could see it in her eyes. That glint of worry, fear even, but calm determination above that.

Eragon laughed again, well, if this was what she wanted, this was what she'd get. No holds barred.

He drew Durza, the blade glinting brightly as his eyes gleamed madly "Very well then, en guarde Arya!" he didn't wait for her to guard, he just attacked, he attacked and attacked and attacked.

There was a wildness, a beastial edge to his swordplay, he was wild, moving constantly, he didn't care about keeping her at arm's length as he had done with Vanir, with Vanir he had practised swordplay, with Arya he practised all out brutal assault, done with a gleaming steel edge.

And Arya matched him.

Not in strength, or in speed, and indeed he hit her with his blade more than a few times, nicking her here, whacking her there, but he never got in a good hit, and that wasn't for lack of trying. His cuts weren't mercies, whacks weren't sparing her from a more gruesome fate, he was trying to beat her down, heck to murder her even, lost in the heat of this very moment.

And he couldn't.

And at some point, in all of this, he was no long striking her out of anger, trying to kill her because he wanted to kill. He was enjoying himself, he was trying to strike her down because it was a challenge, and he was having fun doing so.

He laughed, truly enjoying himself now, and then charged. He caught her sword with his, but never stopped his charge, ramming her down and landing on top of her. Had they done this before? Eragon didn't care though, pinning her legs with his body and grabbing the hunting knife stored around his back, it came around suddenly and violently, and only Arya's quick reaction allowed her to catch his hand, the blade digging into the exposed edge of her hand as her aim wasn't quite true to his wrist.

He pushed it harder, trying to shove it into her throat, she struggled against it, red faced and sweating, looking breathless, her hair had grass and dirt in it, but her eyes were beautiful in that moment. Like a wild cat hunting its prey, and finding its prey just as much of a hunter.

She let her hand slip, caught the blade and bent it, her strength bending the metal quickly, not quick enough as while she was focused Eragon smashed her head in with his own, breaking his own nose in the process but not caring as she lay there dazed.

The Rider stood and stalked away, casting Durza's sword aside into the dirt along with the dagger.

Arya was already on her feet, he noticed glancing behind him, her own sword ready. Or rather Vanir's sword.

He felt a grin take over his face as he reached the archery target holding Zar'roc and yanked it free. He spun the blade, holding it carefully. He gripped it with two hands, holding it in a steady stance and slowly approaching.

In that moment, he didn't even care that the bone knife Garrow had given him all those years ago was lying, bent to the point of uselessness, in the dirt. In fact, he didn't even realise.

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Islanzadi was not pleased.

Running a country, even one as self sustaining as this, was not easy. There were no taxes, laws were more a formality than a necessity, most of the time, but the politicking was intense even so.

Even if two elves agenda's were but a stone's throw apart, both would refused to budge, even if they agreed on the bulk of the issue they would hold the entire issue up until their one minor dispute was resolved in a way that satisfied themselves, or satisfied no one.

But that was not the reason for her displeasure, she was used to the intricacies of the elves. No her displeasure stemmed from something else entirely, something that was currently on top of her daughter in the very heart of Her kingdom. She clenched her teeth as she saw the grapple, remaining hidden in the tree line, far from the sight of all but her keenest eyed subjects, and farther still from Eragon and Arya's sight, who were too entranced by each other to notice.

She watched the fight a while, as Eragon tossed aside a knife and a sword and retrieved the wine red blade of Morzan, and began fighting in a far more proper manner, than that wild uncultured, berserker assault he had been performing. More proper, but not less intense.

The sound of steel on steel was giving her a headache, such was its rapidity and intensity, but she remained.

Islanzadi did not like Eragon. It was not necessarily that he was a Rider, she had only respect for them, even if she would've preffered one of her own become the newest of the Order. It was not even that he was a Shade, she could look past that issue, until the time was right, and one day the time would be right. No she did not like him for one very simple reason, his relationship with Arya.

Of course Arya claimed that no such relationship existed, that they were "Friends, if even that", but she was not fooled. She saw the way he looked at her, and while Arya made no such gestures of her own, she also made no effort to rebut, firmly of otherwise, his advances either.

Combined with Eragon's… other traits, his disrespect, his failure to adhere to her plan, and of course his more general shadiness, this was what made her dislike the Rider.

Quite intensely too.

It was hardly appropriate for an elven princess to flirt with a Rider, it could have been overlooked back in the day, but not now, and with a human Rider. It was less appropriate for an elven princess to flirt with a Shade, in fact Islanzadi was certain that Arya was a first in that regard.

The first elven princess to have… any relationship really with a Shade, beyond that of enemies, of course.

The fight ended suddenly, shockingly so, and without any kind of drama. Eragon sheathed his sword, mumbled something she could not quite make out to Arya, went to retrieve his other weapons, eyeing the damaged dagger for a long moment, before finally tucking the knife away and turning to where Vanir stood, his face almost fixed, and would be fully if he had not refused the other elves aid once he was capable of doing so.

"I look forward to sparring with you again, Vanir-finiarel" Eragon said loudly and calmly, offering the elf a vicious smile to cap it all off. He had been smiling almost the whole time, while fighting, while retrieving his things, save the dagger where a frown had creased his features, and he was smiling now too now, but it was only now that his smile took on a biting, mocking edge.

There was another reason she didn't like him, constantly adding insult to injury, literally in this case.

Vanir's hands were shaking, rage or fear who knew, either way he lowered his head and said, in a language where one could not lie "It would be an honour, Eragon-elda."

The Rider chuckled and wandered over to his dragon, who hit him with her tail, which also made him laugh. With that small exchange, and obvious display of the dragon's displeasure the two of them flew off past the trees and into the wide open sky, leaving the still silent training grounds behind.

Arya stood there, dishevelled, with dirt on her clothes and in her hair, but still beautiful, for it would take much to mar the beauty of an elf, watching them flying away.

And Islanzadi felt her anger rise.

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'You look pleased Rider' Glaedr commented, taking in the young man's smile and generally cheerful appearance as the two apprentice Dragon Rider's arrived. Or rather, the apprentice Rider and Dragon, he supposed. He hadn't really considered the fact that the term Dragon Rider focused solely on the human, the Dragon Rider so to speak, as opposed to the Rider's Dragon… and that sounds too, possessive. Now if Dragon Rider's were more appropriate named, Dragon's Rider, then he would accept it. It hardly mattered though, especially now.

"I am" Eragon responded, giving Glaedr a smile.

'I see…' Glaedr snorted and closed his eyes again, he would remain here until his Rider was done.

Eragon grinned and, from his vague awareness of Oromis's senses he saw the younger Rider turn and glance at where his own Rider and the sapphire dragon were having a quiet interaction.

It was through those senses that he noticed Eragon stopped suddenly and frown, before turning back to the hulking mass behind him. It was strange to think of himself as something giant, as he was normal sized, in fact he remembered being immensely small compared to some of his elders, but from a humans, or indeed elfs, senses he was enormous. Even Saphira was large by their standards.

"Whaddya mean?" Eragon asked, and Glaedr cracked an eye half open, taking in Eragon's confused, almost scowling face with his own eyes.

'What?' he asked, not really sure how else to respond. Expect perhaps with Eragon's own question 'What do you mean?', however he just went with 'What?', it was simpler.

"What do you mean?" Eragon said again, slower, almost patronising, or perhaps just insistent.

Glaedr let his confusion be known, expressing the emotion keenly to Eragon across the link he formed to communicate 'I only mean that…' he considered his words carefully, whether or not this was the 'What' Eragon spoke of or not 'I see that you are pleased and will not press further as to why.'

Eragon's frown deepened, not getting closer to a scowl, which is was very close to already, but becoming more confused "No, after that."

'After that?' Glaedr narrowed his eyes. He hadn't said anything after 'I see'... had he? Perhaps he had expressed an emotion? No, he was certain he had done neither, accidently or not.

"You sai…" the Rider stopped, words freezing on his tongue "Oh… Apologies ebrithil, I was mistaken."

Glaedr eyes narrowed at the response, and Eragon could understand why. It wasn't like Eragon to admit he was wrong, or so Glaedr assumed from his few interactions with the boy. He rose slightly, lifting his head from the ground, but a look at the boys face made him stop. The boy was scowling darkly, not at him but at the ground.

Just as he would not press the boy on why he was pleased today, he would not press him on this either. If necessary Oromis would handle it, otherwise he was content to let Eragon deal with his own problems.

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He had noticed when they landed, the… distance between Eragon and Saphira. After he jumped off of her back, Saphira let him go ahead… even further than usual.

"Are you alright?" Oromis asked quietly, as Eragon paused to speak with Glaedr, while Saphira, after greeting the golden dragon respectfully, moved past to greet him as well. As a good respectful student would, so unlike her Rider.

Saphira twitched, she clearly thought she was being subtle in her… whatever it was 'It's…' she was about to dismiss it, but then paused 'I…'

Oromis remained silent and allowed her to take her time to speak, noticing Eragon turned away from Glaedr, then stop, frown, and turn back. But paying more attention to Saphira as she struggled with words. This was perhaps more serious than he thought.

'Its nothing' Saphira eventually responded 'Thank you for your concern' then turned back to Glaedr, from whom she would be receiving her education this day.

He nodded, accepting the lie, and let her walk away.

Eragon walked past her, and Oromis noticed that they didn't share… anything. Not a glance, not a look, not a touch, they just strolled past each other almost as if they were ignoring the others existence in that moment. It wasn't like they looked away, or indicated their ignorance in any real way, it just… the act of them walking past each other lacked any intimacy at all, like two strangers passing each other in the street.

The young Rider stood in front of Oromis smiling, while the two dragons leapt into the sky and flew away, and Oromis turned his attention to the Rider, taking a moment to analyse the smile. It wasn't his usual smirk, cruel and malicious, or even a bloodthirsty grin, it was a genuine, happy smile.

He chose not to broach the subject with the Rider, it was Saphira's issue after all and he would not reveal her secret, little as she had revealed it, and instead gestured to the patch of hard packed earth where they practised the Rimgar "Shall we begin."

Eragon's smile didn't die "Sure thing."

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Despite his worries about Saphira's… odd behaviour this morning, and Eragon's seeming ignorance of the fact that she was behaving oddly, which was odd in and of itself, their early morning training went remarkably well.

Unlike the days before Eragon did not complain, he was not combative to Oromis's teaching. He listened, he attempted, he pushed himself, he tried very hard indeed. Of course Oromis had already heard of the incident in the training field, such things did not stay quiet and even living out here in the sticks, he still heard of what occurred.

Not least because he had asked Vanir to contact him once the hour was over, both with his opinion and simply to ensure Eragon had done so.

Vanir had contacted him, had informed him precisely what occurred and had apologised to Oromis for his actions and stated he would accept any punishment Oromis saw fit to lay upon him.

Oromis, on the other hand, didn't really mind. Vanir had been punished, unduly harshly as well, by Eragon, and being punished by the one you had… 'harmed' was not the correct word, aggravated perhaps, being punished by that person was hardly just, but it was more than enough.

Indeed, Oromis was far more interested in the Rider's interaction with Arya. He was not one to peer, or interfere, with his students personal lives, and he would make every attempt not to, but Oromis needed to know about Eragon, what he liked and disliked, what he desired and the things he hated.

Well, he did not need to know, but wished to, that he might better influence the Rider's decisions and, hopefully, steer him to what Oromis believed was the correct path, or at least try to help Eragon find what he believed was the correct path.

He watched carefully as the Rider performed a particularly strenuous stretch, his back becoming visible although they were stood face to face, and felt himself wince.

"Eragon, stop" Oromis said gently, stepping forwards.

Eragon looked at him oddly and stood upright "What?"

"Your back" the elderly elf said gently.

There was a twitch in the Rider's face, a look of annoyance then came forth, and then a twinge of pain as the simple fact that he had injured himself registered in his mind.

Oromis stepped forwards "Here, allow me to…"

"It's fine" Eragon said resolutely, a note of annoyance in his voice, stretching in such a way as to further aggravate the injury.

Oromis winced at the action, knowing the pain Eragon must be in from the spasms in his hands, and the tenseness of the muscles in his face, and his overall tense posture. The elf sighed and nodded "Very well" he said softly "We are done" he spoke more clearly, though he did not raise his voice at all "You will find the stump where you left it. Return to me in an hour."

Eragon was scowling at him as he left, not enjoying his weakness being accommodated, but walked away all the same, heading to the clearing that Oromis had shown him too. He had cut their practise of the Rimgar short, and Eragon knew that, but hopefully his time meditating would not only give his back time to recover, as well as give him a chance to heal himself privately, but also would hopefully prevent Eragon's annoyance from evolving into something worse.

And performing the Rimgar, while injured and in pain, which would increase the difficulty and therefore the annoyance felt, would likely not help in keeping the younger Rider calm.

Oromis headed back into his hut, and located some paper and a quill, as well as a small glass bottle of ink, and began preparing some materials for their later lessons.

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Eragon kicked the stump, quite hard, as he arrived, hard enough to hurt his toes, not break them thankfully, but make them sting. Of course the pain flashing up and down his back far outstripped the pain of his toes.

He bit his lip, closed his eyes, counted to ten, took a deep breath, clenched and unclenched his fists, tried to relax his whole body, and still didn't feel calm. Of course that wasn't unusual, Eragon rarely felt terribly calm, he usually felt some emotion, whether it was anger, joy, or simply intense boredom.

Setting himself down on the stump with a grumble Eragon tried to simply ignore the pain of his back and focused on Oromis's lesson.

And for five minutes he succeeded.

"It won't last" he murmured out loud. He had thought it was Glaedr who said it, after all he was the only one Eragon was talking to at the time. But no, it sounded like Glaedr, mostly, it sort of even felt like Glaedr , though maybe that was just left open form their prior communication, the link maybe hadn't shut fully.

But it wasn't from him, the elderly dragon confirmed it, and as he did. Eragon knew who had spoken.

He let out a long slow breath, then chuckled sourly. They were right after all, but it was their words, combined with his current pain, that served to kill his cheer. They hard formed a self fulfilling prophecy so to speak, the act of it existing served to substantiate its own existence.

That sounded right at least, sounded like something Oromis would say, and therefore right, meandering, reasonably useless, and utter bullshit… but right.

The Rider shook his head and refocused his efforts, he searched around the glade, finding the insects beneath him bustling and lively as usual, the plants somber and serene, making their own quiet efforts towards expansion.

A squirrel bustled about in a tree, unphased by Eragon's presence.

He considered it a moment, had a peak inside its head, then looked somewhere else. He headed for a tree, trying to grasp the undefinable intelligence of the flora. It wasn't even really intelligence, it was more a case of 'this happens, do this, otherwise do this', they had instructions… a… process he supposed, for what they were supposed to do.

Could that be defined as intelligence?

He considered the ants a moment, watched them adventure, gather food, raid another ants nest, pillage, rape and plunder, sort of, and then carry on with their daily lives. They were oddly human, two great empires, spanning thousands of generations, warring with each other until one was wiped out.

And to the winner went the spoils.

The considered the ladybird than landed on his fingers, examining it with his mind. Then remembered what his actual job was, to open his mind to everything and tried to do that instead. He tried to hear the ladybird, while also hearing the ants, and all the others stuff.

His mind opened again, expanding, hitting intelligence in droves while stretching barely a foot from him. At two he stopped, confused.

The squirrel was still there, not that confusing given that he hadn't made many, or any, movements. But what was odd was that the squirrel was stood right in front of him, sitting and staring at him from the moss that covered the ground around the stump.

Eragon frowned, opening his eyes to look… and found crimson eyes staring back at him.


Hey, I actually managed to get another chapter a week after my last update. It's been a while hasn't it. Do you guys remember the good old days when I used to upload once a week, and then the bad old days when... nothing happened for like 2 years. Yeah, good times.

Toodles.