Chapter Two: Half the Kings Men

The dragon and her passengers soared above the mountains, like a thrush over ant hills. When Eragon had traversed the rocky terrain in his youth, each peak had seemed infinitely high and mighty, though now, having seen Farthen Dur and the great Beors, their brilliance was diminished somewhat. Because of their incredible height and the limited light, it was impossible for Eragon or Arya to detect any form of life along the rugged cliff-faces, and Eragon felt a pang as he remembered the way in which he used to stalk deer for days, waiting for that opportune moment to strike. Indeed it had been on one such hunt that he had first uncovered Saphira's egg.

We should rest, Saphira. Eragon stated calmly, as the light increased with dawn.

Aye, little one, I shall find a place to camp. She replied, exhaustion seeping out of her consciousness and mingling with his own.

In the relative solitude of the Spine they agreed to allow a fire, and Eragon loped happily through the forestry, locating the driest woods that would avoid smoking over-much. They had made good progress, flying throughout the first night, and had camped along a spacious ridge east of Kuasta that seemed entirely void of intelligent life.

Humming gently to himself, Eragon allowed himself to breathe in the air of his childhood and temporarily forget the troubled times in which he had somehow found himself. Despite all the many changes, the Spine had managed to retain its air of mystery, even when he had seen its vast acres stretched out from above, and he revelled in thoughts that Galbatorix and his peons would never be able to catch him there, recalling Brom's old stories of how half the kings great army had disappeared, never to be found.

Arya paced the edge of the ridge carefully, reaching to pick out berries and sprigs that would suffice for the night's meal. She wondered at her own instincts; to have sent the dragon egg so far away and to such a secluded and haunted region of Alagaesia. Despite all her elven wiles, she was unable to feel anything familiar in the crowded forestry, and the distance between the plant life and herself was disturbing beyond measure.

Returning to the camp she sank down into a large, homely log that Eragon had dragged from the border of the forest and looked into his contented brown eyes, whilst grinding hamonberry with carrow stems.

Eragon, she had to confess, had grown into something of an enigma. He had lost the farm boy ignorance and childish immaturity, with which he used to stare when he thought her unaware, but with his increased maturity he had retained a boyish humour and that cunning that only humans seemed to have.

He was taller, now, than the average seventeen year old, and his shoulders had become lean with toned muscles than ran the length of his back. The dragons blessing had bestowed him with a slimmer, rapier like stature that belied his inhuman strength, and his slightly pointed ears moulded into a warm and kindly, if slightly confused face, the cheek bones prominent, in the elven fashion.

She was, however, more aware of his recent change in demeanour when around those who made him nervous, as she unquestionably did. Instead of flushing and choking on his words Eragon seemed to have mellowed around her, treating her with respect and dignity whilst probing gently in the way that she would only allow of a friend.

His eyes flickered from the now-burning fire and met with hers, and his lips split into a contented smile, as she settled further into the log, and passed him wild berries and shoots.

"We should make the funeral by the end of the third night" Arya dispelled the warm silence with her carefully chosen words, as she watched Eragon glance over from where he was sitting.

"Aye…" he replied, savouring the cautious gentleness in her voice, "Arya… the Spine makes you uneasy?" he questioned hesitantly.

Arya lifted herself slightly and looked straight at him; "This place is dangerous Eragon… not immediately threatening, but powerful, in a suppressed, chained way. The birds here are friendly, but they are free to come and go on their feathered wings, the other life, the constant inhabitants are… wary, of strangers, of each other. Even of themselves." She paused under Eragon's understanding gaze.

"I told you about Sloan, Katrina's father?"

"Yes"

"When you first sent the egg, to me, I dismissed it as a pretty trinket. It burst into being not ten yards from me, as I hunted for Garrow… we needed the food, you see, to prepare for the heavy winter." He paused; Arya was looking at him intently. "The game escaped, so I brought the egg back to Carvahall instead. I tried to trade it with Sloan, he was a butcher then, but he'd have none of it. His wife you see, she… she disappeared in the Spine the year I was first brought to Carvahall. What I'm saying is, this place has always haunted the people, has always been a mystery. Strange things are renowned for happening here, for changing… everything." Eragon's eyes glistened slightly "But there is no evil here, no evil at all." He concluded firmly, brushing his eyelids quickly.

Arya lifted herself and crawled to where Eragon leaned against Saphira's soft underbelly, slotting in beside him.

"I shall trust you, Eragon" she whispered briefly, before closing her delicately lidded eyes.

With sunset Saphira sent a wave of thoughts flashing into Eragon's skull, causing him to jump up, eyes wide open.

Time to go, unless you plan to mourn the old ones with sleepy snores, and mutterings of Arya's name?

Eragon blushed slightly and glared at the oceanic eye, crinkled in amusement. He turned his stiff neck as Arya thrust him his large pack and they set about concealing the fire manually, so as to avoid using unnecessary magic that might alert nearby patrols to their presence.

Clambering onto Saphira's back beside the regal elf, he gazed up at the sliver of moon, casting its pale eerie light over the thick tree tops and snowy peaks.

NB:- As I probably should have mentioned in the first chapter, Christopher Paolini owns all of the characters he created, as well as the world (Alagaesia anyway). Extra characters are owned by me.

Thanks to everyone who is reading this FF, if you continue to do so, I would be honoured, and thanks even more to those who have left reviews.