Okay, so the results of the polls are...MALE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hmmmm...Interesting... Rubs chin Murtagh's a liar! Haha! Any suggestions for names for the male dragon? He's going to be a silver dragon with ice blue eyes. OOPS!!!!!!!!!! I've said too much!

Disclaimer: I don't own Eragon.

Eragon flew through the gates of Tronjheim and straight up the stairs of Farthen Dur, leaving an amazed Saphira in his wake. Arya followed him closely, knowing that she could surpass him easily, but staying behind for mental support for him. She ran alongside him, moving in between bodies up and down the steep stairs, and Eragon matched her pace, moving with his own elven grace. Arya sniffed the air, smelling blood, and no life in the ghostly halls.

Saphira, still surprised by her rider's speed, launched into motion, throwing herself at the doors into Farthen Dur, splitting them wide open. Eragon was standing in front of Nasuada's doors, mouth wide open. There were Urgal bodies surrounding the bed with arrows poking out of the carcasses. She nudged his arm with her scaly nose. He looked down at her with hopeful eyes and looked among the bodies once more. Nasuada's was not among them.

She's not here. His thoughts portrayed the very quintessence of hope.

I know, dear one.

Then there is hope for our survival in the Varden.

Yes.

Eragon brooded for a long while, picking through the cadavers for any thing that may be of use. Many of the weapons were bent, broken, or just really ugly. The black hand repeatedly appeared on shields and on packs. Rings and wristbands were sparce, but when he did find them, they were richly decorated and quite beautiful. Leather strips inlaid with turquoise stones and gold string. There were rings of solid gold and silver inlay. Bronze neckbands and golden shackle-like anklets. Remind me that if I'm ever going to be a prisoner, I want to be a prisoner of Galbatorix. He at least decorates his slaves.

You don't want to be a prisoner at all. Siding with the Varden has earned you a place on the gallows. Now, shut your mouth and search so we can get out of here. It's making my tail itch.

Your tail?

What? At least I don't scratch my butt whenever and wherever I please.

Saphira, you are a needle in a haystack.

More like a gem in the sand.

He laughed audibly, and Arya looked at him as though he had sprouted an extra head.

He was just pulling off a jeweled waterskin when:

ERAGON!!!

Yes?

Dragon!

Eragon's head shot up faster than an arrow in flight. The skies were instantly darkened by a silver dragon, a young girl straddling its back. It was a young woman with coal black hair, a slim frame and startling eyes. The black hair of the rider hung low, long past the forelegs of the young dragon. Her ice blue eyes matched her dragons in exact color. The dragon, maybe six months younger than Saphira herself, was male and a very handsome dragon to look at, his silver scales threatening to outshine Saphira's. Saphira snorted at the dragon, and pulled back in surprise for whatever reason she kept unto herself. The rider called out with a voice like steel and orchids. Soft, with a hard undertone indicating that she wouldn't put up with much.

"Are you Eragon?" Arya leered at the girl with an emotion that Eragon could not place, as it had never been on the elf's face before.

"Aye." He hesitated in answering.

"Then I was sent here by Nasuada to bring you to Surda, where we are currently refugeed."

"Fricai?" Friend?

"Eka ai fricai un Shur'tugal." I am friend and Rider. The girl was definitely well versed in the ancient language, as her accent was rival to Oromis'. He was well tempted to check her ears for points.

I don't entirely believe her.

Neither do I, Eragon. Tread carefully with this one.

"Who are you?"

YAY!!!!!!!!! Cliffy! Don't hate me plz! Names? Soon, plz! I have ideas and I'd like to share them with you.

Love ,

Sora's Kairi