Chapter 2:

She stood there, roughly tying the saddle on her dragon, twisting the knots with extra vigour, pulling at it, taking it off again and putting it on again.

What are you trying to do? He said in a tiresome voice.

Wear your saddle.

You have done it many successful times, just stop taking it out!

What if we're flying, and I fall out? Hmm? We'll see then if you wished I hadn't done this.

"Your dragon is right, you know?" a man said, inconspicuously standing at the door.

She looked at him and turned back to wearing the saddle, "I have no time for this, Murtagh,"

He laughed and said, "You never had time for me, Nadira,"

She stayed silent as she adjusted the buckles on her armour, strapping her sword, Wyrda, to her side.

"That is a cold name you give your sword," he said after a while.

"I didn't name it, nor make it," she replied coldly, "Even so, what is Zar'oc to you? Happy?" she added sarcastically.

A shadow flit across his eyes, before he echoed, "I didn't name it, nor make it,"

She stayed silent, pulling at the straps of the saddle, making sure it was tight.

It is tight enough, my dear girl, for I feel suffocated.

A look from her silenced the dragon, but did not stop smoke puffing from the nostrils as it took of into the night in slight anger.

"I heard about your mission," he said quietly, "Are you really going to carry it out?"

She laughed bitterly, and said, "Has Galbatorix ever given you a choice?"

He kept mute.

"I never asked for this to happen," she said, turning away as she pretended to fiddle with her armour, "Yesterday, I was a poor girl entertaining with nought but a violin with her mother. Today, I'm a Dragon Rider,"

"And which do you choose?" Murtagh said quietly after a while, "The life of the poor girl who played the violin, or this? The life of a dragon rider,"

"It's hard to say, yet easy to choose," she said, forever buckling her straps down, "If I were still a violin girl, I'd be leading a happy, carefree life,"

His feelings immediately drooped, yet not significant enough for the other party to notice.

"But if I never touched that wretched egg, I'd never have met someone like you,"

A warm feeling spread all over him despite the cold night.

"You're a good man, Murtagh. You're about the only good person I've met since all this started. Always protecting me, teaching me…" she said distractedly.

He pursed his lips and nodded.

"When are you leaving"

"Before dawn breaks,"

"What?" he said incredulously, walking towards her "They can't make you do this!"

"Yes, they can," she said, putting her hands forcefully on his chest to calm and stop him from walking nearer.

He grabbed her two arms that were held out, saying vehemently, "You're life is in danger!"

"Everyone's life is in danger," she said, laughing that bitter laugh, "Even if you were someone armed with nothing but a violin,"

"I'll take you away. To another place, another land with your dragon, away from Galbatorix!" he hissed.

"Look, why are you so concerned?" she said, wrenching her arms from his grip.

"I can't let you die!" he said, hopelessly.

"Oh yes, you can," she said with a hard voice, walking away.

"Why are you doing this? Is it really for your mother?" he spat, "Or is this just a ploy for honour and to toy with another's feelings!"

She stopped, and turned her head towards her shoulders, half looking at him, before she said, "I'm doing this, so I can have my life back. The life when I was known as the poor, violin girl,"

"Then what about-!" he shouted, running towards her, only to see her lips move, palm shine, and her disappearing.

"-me?"

He sat silently on a seat next to her bed, elbows set on his knees and hands brought to his closed mouth, staring at her as wild ideas and possibilities wandered about his mind. It was confirmed that she was a Dragon Rider, as he was. After scrubbing away the dried blood from her palm, they discovered a scar, a mark…

Without shifting his head, he looked at her right palm where the shiny insignia that defined her as a Rider glinted in the dancing candle light. She was discovered with a fully grown dragon, almost the same size as Saphira. Her past was unknown, character undefined. Everything was taken at a risk. They never needed, to assume her an ally. There was full possibility she was the enemy. After all, when her mind was prodded (for security reasons), the sorcerers and elves involved passed out as a wave of nausea and headache overwhelmed them. How barriers that strong were set up, protecting her mind and her dragon's mind, was incomprehensible.

All they could gather now was that she was definitely not new to the "Rider" and "Magic" business. Either someone powerful was meddling with her mind, or she was hiding a secret she didn't want anyone to know even if she were unconscious.

He surveyed her outer appearance and tried very hard not to judge her based on what he saw. She had very plain features with a sharp jaw and wore a simple moss coloured dress like the ones common women wore in small villages which the elves had cleaned magically. He was instantly reminded of the women back in Carvahall- clean, meek, obeying, unimpressive, and submissive. It's probably because she's asleep, he thought, trying to convince himself.

How someone like her managed to become a rider, he had no clue. Then again, he couldn't judge a book by its cover, can he?

Just then, Arya entered the room upon knocking. He was immediately brought from his whirlwind of thought when she came in. Standing up, he greeted her while she nodded mutely in his direction before setting a salve by the bedside table which she used to clean her wounds with.

"How are her injuries?" he asked tentatively.

"They aren't recovering extraordinarily, neither are they languishing," she replied, "And magic can't heal her either. Whatever harmed her had something to do with magic," she said upon reading the look on his face.

He was rather puzzled by the cold way the elves were reacting to the discovery of the new rider. He mused to himself quietly as he saw the beautiful elf tend to the common looking girl. Despite her emotionless ways, she still wanted the world's fourth and last rider to survive, taking pains and great care to tend to the girls' wounds.

Isn't it obvious? A voice in his head said briskly.

What? The cold and distant temperaments of the elves, the Varden's greatest ally? He snapped in frustration.

Yes, little one, and you didn't have to snap at me like that, she replied patiently.

So what do you know? He asked, feeling guilty.

I do not know, but I do have suspicion, she said, after which she kept quiet for a while.

So? He asked impatiently.

Don't you see, Eragon? They are dismayed at the thought another egg has hatched.

And why is that? Shouldn't they be rejoicing?

She pondered for a while, before answering, no… not in particular. You see, this fourth rider is a human…You see, elves always see themselves superior to any other race, especially humans although they refuse to acknowledge it.

I don't see where this is going, Saphira. Get to the point, will you?

They obviously hoped that the fourth egg would hatch for one of them, an elf…and definitely not another human. She said in a thoughtful tone, and just an hour or two ago, I overheard two insolent male elves, saying that the fourth egg was they're last bet. The elves were probably hoping it for Arya, they're princess.

Eragon looked at Arya attending to the gashes across the girl's body. He noted that her face was expressionless,He would give anything to know what Arya was thinking, but it was more than his life's worth to break into her mind and find out although he had the magical ability to do so.

Perhaps… he said to Saphira after a long while, she too had hoped it would hatch for her…

No one knows but perhaps the elves themselves… perhaps…

Arya drew herself up after she was done. Her long, cascading raven hair swept the edge of the bed and Eragon's hand, causing his skin to tingle with delight.

"I will take my leave now, Eragon," she said, before walking out with the piece of cloth in hand.

"Yes," Eragon replied, standing up, "Will I see you around?"

She gave him a cold look, before answering, "Eragon-"

"Maybe, if you aren't too busy," he said hastily.

What are you doing? Saphira hissed.

Hush, now.

You will offend her!

Giving him an appraising look, she said, "I must make haste now. I am needed elsewhere," before stepping out of the room.

He fell back in his chair.

She despises me, he said hopelessly.

No, she doesn't. She merely doesn't want you distracted, she doesn't want you to stray from your duties. Our, duties.

So there's still hope after this war ends…

Do not get your hopes up, Saphira warned, Remember the man who rode with her while she was carrying my egg. The one who was killed…

I will never give up, no matter what, Sahpira, he said determinedly.

Oh Eragon… she sighed, not wanting to argue with him.

That was when the girl started to flinch. That was when Eragon realized she was perspiring profusely. He moved closer, examining her wounds and face. Her hands were grasped tightly on the sheets beneath them, her knuckles turning white as her breathing turned heavier and heavier, gasping for air loudly. She started muttering rapidly.

"Please…don't take her…don't…don't…"

"Hey, wake up! It's alright. Can you hear me? Wake up!" Eragon said, shaking her shoulders.

"No!" she shouted, eyes still closed as she fought against Eragon's grasp.

"Wake up! You're dreaming!" Eragon shouted, terrified as dark, blue-ish black veins started to draw themselves on her face and neck, down to her collar bones.

Her skin sunk in and clung onto her bones, causing to her look look deathly pale and skinny. He was never prepared magically for this kind of situation before. The dress covering her torso was now saturated in perspiration. Her eyelids shot open immediately.

Jolting upwards, she shrieked, "HIRADOR!"

Author's Note Which-No-One-Reads-bloodyhell: Hello... I realized no one reads this bloody fic. I like it anyway, I'll carry on.

I know the first two chapters are really odd, and I quote, "shrouded with mystery", but that's why I have to keep updating, don't I? Oh well. You MUST review when you read this. Whether you like it or not. I need reviews to keep me going. And for those who don't like this, put your review in a constructive critisism. Not a flame, because flames don't do any good at all.

Any tips on the plots? Anyone want to be my beta? Actually, I beta my own fics. Anyway, if you want a preview to the third or fourth chapter, review me and leave your contact behind. I'll get to you soon after.

Cheers,

thechosenMay