Eragon and Fírnen looked at the new, small door in front of them. Saphira could design the glass housing for it and the other doors after she delivered her egg, Eragon had decided.

Nodding to Fírnen, he stepped through the doorway and found himself in Vanir's room. He would move the door somewhere better after he secured the Rider in Skulutan. Aside from the Rider and hatchling, the room was empty. Apparently, Vanir had not yet finished speaking with Nasuada. That wasn't surprising, seeing as he had gotten no response from the Queen's mirror yet.

Eragon crouched next to the unconscious Rider and hatchling, having nostalgia to Saphira's early days as he watched the latter breathe, its little body swelling and contracting with every breath. Knowing it was necessary but feeling a little bit guilty, Eragon said "slytha," (sleep) to keep it from waking while he carried it. He did the same to the Rider. Picking up the hatchling by the armpits, he deduced that it was male before holding the dragon to his chest with one arm. He then slung the Rider over his other shoulder and walked out of the doorway, noting Fírnen's curious expression. Before he mounted the green dragon, said dragon sniffed at the hatchling being carried by Eragon with a thoughtful expression.

Eragon strapped the limp Rider onto Arya's guest saddle and strapped himself into Arya's own saddle. He cast a quick spell to bind the hatchling to his chest and told Fírnen he was ready to take off.

Fírnen's wings spread, and launched both Riders and dragons into the air.

–

Sivän awoke suddenly, and the first thing he noticed was the fact he was on a bed. A soft bed. The second thing he noticed was a weight on his chest. He opened his eyes to find a hatchling dragon staring at him and sniffing at his face. Sivän was beyond confused until he remembered recent events. He had kept hold of the dragon, he remembered, and felt the most explicit agony he had ever experienced. He checked his hand to make sure it was still there and almost fainted.

The back of his hand and his entire arm were covered in bronze scales that matched the hatchling's own. The palm of his hand held bronze, calloused skin and a glowing oval in the center of it. The glowing was so bright he had to stop looking at it, in fact, and he turned it away from his face, watching an egg-shaped floater drift across his vision because of the light exposure.

He noticed something else strange, he could see the minute detail in everything he looked at, and every color was far more vibrant than it should be, especially blue. His mind felt powerful and refreshed, and moving his body felt like it took no work at all. Smiling, he guessed what had happened: the dragon had given him powers. He looked at his stone bedside table and easily broke a corner off with his new scaly arm; it felt like breaking a cracker in two. He smiled wider and sat up, his smile faltering as he unbalanced the hatchling. With his normal hand, he reached up and stroked the hatchling on the head in apology, guessing that the burning would not happen again. He was correct, but strangely, he felt the pleasure of the hatchling as he scratched its head, and he felt the bizarre feeling of a hand touching his own head. With a start, he realized he could feel everything the hatchling could, right down to emotions and thoughts. He felt in his mind as the hatchling's young mind tried to make sense of Sivän's recent memories, which it somehow had access to. He felt an inexplicable bond to the hatchling, and knew instinctively that he trusted it enough to have free reign in his mind. The dragon's thoughts told him that it, he, was male, and his recent memories revealed that the elf had cured itself of his poison and then accidentally activated his multitool's flashbang function, something Sivän laughed at. He heard the conversation between two elves on the other side of the strange mirror in the room, and instinctively felt his ears. They were very pointed, and Sivän smiled again. Those ears would be useful to strike fear in others. He then remembered his hand and dragon, and realized that his ears couldn't be less important compared to them. The elves had also said he could overpower any elf, and that was certainly news to him. Just how powerful was he, now?

They had said he was a Rider, a dragon Rider, he assumed, though he had never heard of such a thing. He quickly reviewed the rest of the memories for information on how he got to this new room and found nothing. The male elf on the other side of the mirror, apparently named Eragon, had been told by the female that he could defeat Sivän with the Eldunarí, whatever that was, so he would have to be wary of him. Other than that one threat, he felt practically invincible. He could pull off the outings of his wildest dreams and not have to worry about the risk; he was stronger than an elf!

As he prepared to stand up, the hatchling synced with his thoughts and climbed to his shoulders as he moved, preventing him from falling off as Sivän stood. He saw a shirt and pants made of bronze silken material layed out on the bed he had been on and a robe next to it, which was almost identical to the one that 'Eragon' wore, save the accents were bronze colored instead of blue. Did Eragon have a dragon too? He reviewed the hatchling's memory and found that he did, indeed, have a dragon, when he had said 'neither of us want to leave our dragons'. That meant that the female elf also had a dragon. Suddenly, he remembered what Lord Roran had said; Eragon Kingkiller was his cousin. That must be the one, unless Eragon was a common name in Alagaesia.

Pondering this, he took off his dungeon clothes, the hatchling jumping off of him to the bed, and donned the soft shirt and pants, shivering in pleasure as he did so. The clothes were the singular most comfortable thing he had ever worn, and the hatchling seemed to agree with him as he purred in content from his place on the bed. Sivän then put the robe on, marveling at its lightness and quality. The hatchling watched in curiosity as he did so, and leapt onto his shoulder again the instant he sensed that Sivän was finished. The Rider then moved to the door, opening it. Or trying, at least. The door resisted him, and although he could probably tear it off his hinges with his newfound strength, he didn't want to draw attention; it wasn't his style. As he stood back and thought about his next move, the door swung open and Eragon stepped through.

–

To be honest, Eragon hadn't really been expecting to be punched the instant he walked into the new Rider's room. He caught the Rider's hand, which he had stopped just before his face. His wards would protect him, but the Rider didn't need to know that. He got in a elf-speed fistfight with the Rider, who apparently had already gotten used to his enhanced abilities. It was made even more difficult by the hatchling on his shoulder, who kept moving into fist range, but Eragon finally gave up with besting the Rider and locked him in place with magic. Eragon wasn't the best at hand to hand fighting, but he was good enough to be impressed by the Rider's skill. He even had to magically enhance his muscles when he realized that the Rider was much stronger than him, especially in his scaled arm. The Rider grunted, and Eragon freed his mouth.

"Hello, Eragon. How's your day been?"

"Great, how's yours been?" Eragon replied, partially mystified at how the man had gone from intense fighting to casual conversation so quickly. He also wondered how he was able to recognize him, but then remembered that his wanted flyers had been around the whole of Alagaesia until about a year ago.

"Mine's been pretty crappy, assuming this is still the day I got hit in the face by a hammer."

"It probably isn't, you activated the wards on your stolen robe pretty early this morning. You said hammer? Did you happen to run into my cousin Roran?"

The Rider laughed.

"Yes, I tried to scam him."

Now it was Eragon's turn to laugh.

"And I would have succeeded, had he not had a magical ring."

Eragon's laughter died. The reason he didn't win against Roran Stronghammer was because of the ring he had given him? He must be incredibly skilled at what he did.

"To even almost beat him, you must be very skilled at what you do."

"I'm the best," the Rider said confidently.

"And what is it you do?"

"Thievery, conning, scamming, the lot."

No wonder he was

"Well, I think it's time for a specialization change."

"I think not."

"You don't have much of a choice, in all honesty. That hatchling chose you, so you are a Dragon Rider now. That comes with responsibilities."

"And if I don't want to be a Dragon Rider?"

"Again, you don't have a choice."

"As you say. What's being a dragon Rider like? Do we ride dragons?"

"Among other things, like keeping peace in Alagaesia and protecting it from threats. Those things are slightly more important."

"How long will it be until I can ride Nazae?"

"You named him already?"

"Yep! Just now, as we were talking. Like, two seconds ago."

"Well then, I think we should move this conversation somewhere more comfortable. If I release you, will you try to hit me again?"

"No."

Eragon released his magic, and immediately had to catch another punch. He froze him again.

"Really? Repeat after me: Eka munat jierda Eragon thornedag." (I will not hit Eragon today)

"No."

"It means 'I will not hit Eragon today.'"

"But I can hit you tomorrow?"

"I don't like permanent oaths, it makes me feel too much like Galbatorix."

The Rider looked mildly confused, but didn't ask.

"And jierda means hit?"

He squinted at Eragon, who realized too late what he was about to do.

"Jierda Eragon."

Eragon's pre-built wards against jierda were stripped away immediately, and he had to sustain them with his own energy. The Rider's first time using magic, and he makes one of the strongest direct attacks he had encountered. This was concerning. Especially since the Rider didn't even seem drained. He frowned.

"Hmph. I expected that to work."

After weighing the wisdom of telling him so, Eragon replied. He was going to be his apprentice, after all.

"It did, but you only hit my wards."

The Rider brightened again.

"Oh. Well I'm glad I didn't make too much a fool of myself. Anyway, I do want to be let go, so how about this: Eka munat jierda Eragon thornedag. Let's hope you were telling the truth."

Eragon undid the spell, and the Rider stood for a second, his face strained.

"Well, I can't punch you."

"I'm glad you tried again. Want to sit down?"

"Sure."

There were already two chairs in the quarters, and they both sat down on one.

"What is your name, new Rider?"

"Sivän. And yours?"

Eragon raised an eyebrow.

"Eragon Bromson. How did you get to be so good at thievery if I haven't heard about you? To be honest, I haven't been in Alagaesia for the past couple of months, but I feel like I would have heard about someone with your talent before I had left."

"I just arrived in Alagaesia about two months ago, I've been preparing for the Roran scam, so I didn't have much time for any petty crimes."

Interesting.

"Then that also begs the question, how did you recognize me? I had expected you to be remembering my face from wanted posters that were all around a while back."

Sivän failed to answer the question, instead asking him, "why were you on wanted posters? People talk about you like a hero of some sort."

"That is a question to be answered another time. Tell me the answer to my question."

"Hm. Well I thought you would know, you being a Rider and all, but I looked through Nazae's memories. I saw a female elf and Vanir talking to you."

Now Eragon was concerned. He had broken into Nazae's mind? The only psychic contact he had shared with Saphira at first was what she decided to share.

"Did you get permission first? How did you figure out how to enter his mind so quickly?"

Sivän looked mildly confused.

"Well, he was looking through my memories first, so I kind of took that as permission. He didn't mind. Actually, the more I'm thinking about the connection I have with Nazae, the stronger it's getting. Seeing two entire vision fields at the same time and feeling two different sets of senses is kind of confusing, but I'm kind-of getting used to it. How long did it take you?"

Eragon frowned. Of course, he thought, his connection with Nazae is just as amplified as his powers.

"It took me a couple months, and that was when Saphira decided to show me what she was seeing. However, her vision replaced my own. The only sense we share is pain."

Sivän nodded. "So our connection is stronger than yours. I'm guessing you didn't grab onto your dragon?"

"No, I jerked my hand away like a sane person. If it weren't for that magician's robe, you'd be dead."

"So I'm going to keep my arm?"

"There's no reason you would lose the scales. If anything, the scales will keep spreading, just very slowly. Seeing as you're immortal now, you'd, theoretically, be completely covered after enough time."

This seemed to brighten up Sivän the most.

"I'm immortal? Is Nazae immortal too? That's great! I'm immortal!"

"Yes, Nazae is also immortal."

"We're immortal!" He turned his head to the dragon on his shoulder, who bumped their noses and hummed. He probably didn't understand what he was excited about, but the two were so integrated that one's emotions was influencing the other's.

"So, how are you feeling about being a Dragon Rider now?"

–

Sivän lay on his bed, contemplating his decisions with Nazae. The hatchling had cuddled up to his chest again, and Sivän stroked his back on either side of his tiny spines, both of them feeling the sensation.

He could try to break out immediately, he could wait to learn some stuff and then break out, or he could learn everything there was to learn and then break out. He was trying to maintain a healthy balance of impatience and immortality, because if he had the discipline, he could go the 'learn everything' route and leave with the maximum amount of power. However, the path his mind wanted to follow was the 'break out right now' path.

In his indecision, he used jierda on his bedside table and it shattered completely, launching into the far wall. The shrapnel failed to harm him or Nazae, but he decided to be more careful with jierda in the future. He then regretted breaking the table, and pulled over the longer desk from another part of the room to replace it. He noticed a pair of leather gloves on it, and wondered what they were for.

Bite, Nazae told him, and Sivän understood. The gloves must be for protecting new Riders from their hatchlings biting them. He had named Nazae after a river in his homeland known as the wise-man's river, and the name did not fail him. He was amazed that the newborn was so intelligent already, it might have something to do with his integration in Sivän's own mind. He had access to all of Sivän's memories, so he had no need to rely on his own wisdom to make decisions.

He looked at Nazae's face, and saw his own face in his secondary vision. He felt Nazae's thoughts among his own, and he could smell his own scent, hear his own breathing. He was new to the connection, but he loved it already; he loved Nazae already.

Then he thought about his outings, he would have to risk the hatchling during them. He would either have to bring him along or leave him behind, and both would be dangerous.

So, he made a new option: 'Stay here until Nazae is old enough to break out.'

–

"I've decided to start training," Sivän told Eragon when the blue-robed Rider came back into the room.

"Good. First, you'll have to take an oath."

Sivän glared suspiciously at him.

"In Common, there's not a rule requiring an Ancient Language oath yet, but I might add one if you act up. You're going to be my first apprentice, you know. The other two Riders we have are already trained."

"Great, what's the oath?"

"We'll need to wait for an audience first. I can get the elves and the other Rider here to witness the ceremony. For today, just take care of Nazae. He doesn't seem as high-maintenance as other hatchlings, probably because of your connection, but he still needs care. If he gets bored, Askil and Blödhgarm are next door to you, she'll love to have a playmate that's not a hundred times larger than her."

Understanding what was said through Sivän, Nazae perked up and crooned expectantly.

"Another hatchling? Nazae likes that idea. He's also hungry already, somehow. How do I get food for him?"

If he were asking for himself, he would have given a roundabout way of asking for food, but he was willing to be direct for Nazae's sake.

"I have a deer leg ready; you'll have to cut it up for him to eat, though. Any other questions before I go get it?"

"When do I start training?"

"It depends on when Nazae starts letting you train. With your connection, I can imagine that being as early as two or three days."

Sivän could deal with that. He wanted to learn as much as he could before he left.

"How fast does Nazae grow?"

"He'll be out of childhood after about six months, when he's an adolescent, and he'll be a full adult about nine months in, though it's kind of hard to tell because dragons never stop growing. He grows in size fast, you'll be out of this nursery room in about three weeks, so don't get too comfortable."

He would grow that fast? That was helpful.

"How many books on flaying noses do you have? I've always wondered how to flay a nose."

Eragon stood and stared for a second, then turned and walked away without comment.

–

Nazae and Askil were playfighting on the floor as Sivän and Blödhgarm met their blades, Orrvan (Swift, Bold) and Finnidja (Finder). Because of Nazae's and Sivän's connection, it felt for Sivän as if he were multitasking. Nazae was used to it, however, and Sivän envied his ability to not get distracted by what he Rider was doing. Sivän's focus faltered whenever Nazae got excited about something or felt pain, but the dragon was able to stay focused on his task. They had been mostly successful with separating their thoughts and senses enough that their individuality still functioned, but their connection felt sacred, so they only pulled apart if they needed to. For most of the time, they were fully integrated.

Now, Blödhgarm was going easy on Sivän as they skirmished, allowing him to get some strikes in, but training with Eragon was a different story. Eragon would go hard on him every time, Sivän left his training with bruises and muscle aches every time, which Eragon usually refused to heal. Sivän was an exceptional swordfighter and physically faster than his teacher, but he still couldn't stand to Eragon. Their fights began to last longer and longer as his enhanced mind took in all the information it was given, but Sivän never landed a hit, even with all the roguish tricks he pulled. Eragon told him it was how his father had trained him, but the thief had failed to believe that Eragon had ever needed training. By his standards, the man had come out of the egg already a master swordfighter. Womb, whatever.

Sivän shielded his senses from Nazae a bit more as the hatchling got an annoying bruise while playfighting and it overlapped with one of the Rider's already existing bruises. After two weeks, the youngling was shoulder height with his hip and Askil was as tall as his breast, being a week older than Nazae. She had moved out of her nursery room, much to Nazae's sadness, but Nazae would usually hang out with Askil while his Rider trained, and the two dragons spent a lot of their of their time playing together and with Blödhgarm.

After the match between Sivän and Blödhgarm ended, Sivän called a pause.

"I'm going to rest to be ready for my training, but thank you for sparring with me."

Blödhgarm nodded, sitting down on a chair. Sivän did the same, and closed his eyes, dropping every barrier between him and his dragon. He felt the breath in Nazae's lungs, the sore scales that had been bent back by Askil's claws, and the little bruises that were concentrated mostly on his limbs. He saw Askil's eyes as Nazae looked at them, waiting for her next move.

When Askil didn't attack, Nazae did, feinting left and then twisting and pinning his friend's neck as she reached to meet his feint. He had taken that, like many other strategies, from his Rider, and it gave him a bit of an advantage over the larger dragon. Taking inspiration from Sivän's restfulness, he went from playing to cuddling after he had pinned Askil for a satisfactory amount of time. Apparently, cuddling with everyone was a common thing for dragon younglings to do, according to Eragon.

Sivän took a short nap as the combination of his lack of rest and Nazae's comfortability lulled him to sleep. He awoke when Nazae's internal clock alerted him that it was time to leave, and went to the training room he always met with Eragon in. He entered, and Eragon was already there waiting for him.

He had been there long enough to understand that Eragon was a literal legend among the people of Alagaesia; he had defeated a seemingly unstoppable king that had ruled for one hundred years. He had not, however, ever seen his dragon Saphira. Askil occasionally went to visit 'Aunt Saphira' and shared the memories with Nazae, but neither Sivän nor Nazae were allowed out of Skulutan until Sivän were more trustworthy. Sivän was a little guilty that his reputation was affecting Nazae's life, but the youngling had communicated that he felt no resentment for it.

Eragon didn't have Brisingr drawn, to Sivän's surprise. When his apprentice stood before him, the Rider spoke.

"It's time we begin your training on magic. You're skilled enough in physical combat for it to take up less of our time, and you already know about jierda, so there's no reason to hide magic from you. I am telling you that I am taking a leap of faith and trusting you enough to use magic; do not betray that. Magic is not something you toy with, and I need you to only use it in my sight unless I tell you otherwise. I can and will take away your ability to use magic if it becomes a problem, and I will know if you use it without my permission. Do you agree to these conditions?"

Finally, I can learn magic, Sivän thought. He wondered how Eragon could take someone's magic away, and filed that thought away to ponder over later.

"Yes, I agree to the conditions."

"Good. The first thing you will learn has to do with the nature of magic; you cannot use something safely if you do not know what it is."

That was a small disappointment, but it was logical.

"Magic is the usage of energy in order to complete a task. We can use magic to complete tasks we could not normally do, like create a fire, but we will have to sacrifice an amount of energy from our bodies. Everything you do with magic requires an amount of energy equal to the amount of energy you would expend doing a task. Cast a spell that requires too much energy, and it drains energy from you until you die. If you don't word your spell correctly, you will die. If you cast the wrong spell, you will die. If you cast a spell on something stronger than you expected, you will die."

Sivän doubted that all of those things caused inescapable death, but he got the point.

"Alright- mess up, and death. Got it."

"Then you're ready for your fir- second spell."

Eragon handed a small wooden block to him.

"This is usually done with a pebble, but I didn't want you to accidentally target the walls with 'stone'. Hold it in your palm, reach into the magic you did earlier, and say 'stokkr rïsa'. Tell me if you can't remember how to access your magic."

Sivän did, in fact, remember how to access his magic. It had been great, the power he had felt was immense. He reached into the ocean of power in his mind, focused on the block on his palm, and repeated the spell.

The wood shot up, moving for a couple seconds before it hit the ceiling with a loud crack.

Unsurprised, Sivän asked what the spell meant.

"It means 'wood, rise'. You used a bit more energy than necessary, but I did the same thing, my first time. Try and limit the energy you're using."

The partially squished wood fell to the ground about fifteen seconds later, and Sivän picked it up. He now took energy from his mind and gathered a minuscule amount in his thoughts, pushing it into his words as he spoke the spell.

The block rose about a foot above his hand, hovering a bit before falling.

"Impressive. Did you feel any drain on your energy when you cast either of those spells?"

"I felt it leave, but the absence isn't noticeable afterwards. When I used jierda on you, the absence was noticeable, like I missed an hour of sleep or walked up a tall staircase."

"That's interesting, your magic is quite powerful, you know, but don't feel invincible. That would be your greatest mistake."

Eragon held out his hand, and Sivän gave him the wood, guessing that's what he was asking for. His master took the wood and tossed it about a hundred feet away, where it landed and bounced a bit before stopping.

"Now use the spell."

Sivän restricted his magic like he had last time, but he felt the magic draining on his energy expeditiously as the wood slowly rose. When the spell ended and the block fell, Sivän felt like he had run a half-league. His energy was recharging even as he stood there, but he placed his hands on his knees to steady himself.

"The further away your target is, the harder magic gets."

Sivän grunted. "Thanks for telling me sooner."

Eragon tossed him an apple he had somehow produced, but Sivän was in no mood to eat it. Fruits and vegetables had been the only food he was provided here, and the apprentice Rider was forced to satisfy his carnivorous side through his integration with Nazae. Raw meat was different then cooked, but the dragon's taste loved it, so Sivän did as well.

"The best way to learn is to do. How about we move onto another form of magic while you rest? Psychics."

Sivän hadn't known he would learn that too, but he wasn't disappointed. A psychic thief? That almost sounded too good to be true.

"The most important thing to learn is defense. If you can't stand up to another psychic, you can't stand up to another magician. Focus on something, and let it fill your mind. I will try to infiltrate your mind."

Sivän already had been trained in psychic defense, it was one of the reasons he was able to separate from Nazae during duels. He easily warded off Eragon's simple attack as their minds touched, and smiled. That was a mistake. Eragon saw his confidence and launched a stronger attack on Sivän's mind, blowing past his defenses and toying with a memory of an early outing where Sivän had slipped and fell into mud at a pivotal point, failing the goal. Sivän flared with indignance, and Eragon withdrew.

"Again, you're not invincible. You're good enough to stand up to most mundane magicians, but not good enough to stand up to anything more. However, the best way to learn psychic defense is to practice. I can give you a few pointers, but you've got the basics down. Where did you learn how to do that?"

"You can't be a thief if you can't keep secrets, this isn't my first apprenticeship."

Sivän realized then that if Eragon could break into his mind so easily, then his plan to leave once Nazae was old enough could be discovered at any moment. He settled to start training both him and Nazae in psychic defense whenever they had free time. It only took practice, right?