Merry Christmas! I just finished my last exam so Christmas break has finally started for me! I've decided to celebrate by uploading this new chapter. I hope you like it!

Ingothold laid comfortably on Walker's bed chewing at a piece of steak that Walker had gotten for him. Walker sat on the floor against the wall opposite his bed as he watched the dragon. He did not know whether the dragon had forgotten about what his father had said or somehow thought it was irrelevant. He was just a hatchling.

What am I going to do? I can't let Father get rid of him, but I don't know if I can stop him either. There was no way around this. He would never be able to convince his father not to get rid of Ingothold. But I can't let him do this. No matter what. Walker felt that even if he had to go to the ends of Alagaësia he would keep Ingothold safe. But how can I? In the few hours he had been a Rider he had become unbreakably connected with the little dragon. I'm his rider and he's my dragon. Nothing shall tear us apart. His mind always came back to the same exact question. What am I going to do?

I could run away. Run away? It seemed like something Abigail would do but it was completely foreign to him. As the thought came to him, a plan seemed on its own to click together in his mind. He needed to talk to Rhylite and he could protect them. If he could just travel through the city and get to the hall, there Ingothold would be safe. All he had to do was to find a way to sneak out. I wish I could ask Abigail how to get out of here. She's probably done this millions of times. There was a window in his room. He could just jump out of it. That could work. Walker felt desperate to get Ingothold to safety. It was a kind of desperation he had never felt before.

He was prepared to run away immediately but a bit of hesitation stopped him from doing so. If I leave now, I won't ever come back. It was certain. He would stay with Rhylite for the week until they would go and stay in Ilirea for a year, and then he and Ingothold would go on to the east. After training he would come back to Alagaësia, maybe even to Carvahall, but never to this house, or to the blacksmith. Mostly likely he wouldn't see his family again. Not his father. Not his mother. And not even Abigail. Walker stared at Ingothold even more intensely. I'm sorry. But I have to go. This would be his fault.

He got up and grabbed his pack and started to pack his clothes. Walker donned his black cloak and some gloves to hide his gedwëy ignasia. When he finished packing, he looked out of his window. Night was beginning to fall and it was near suppertime. His heartbeat sped up when he saw his father walking back to the house after a day's work. He carried an axe in his hand. He will not touch Ingothold. Walker watched his father until he disappeared inside of the house. I have to leave. Now!

He slung his pack over his shoulder and grabbed Ingothold and held him by his side. Walker opened his bedroom window and sat upon the windowsill as he looked down at the ground. His room was on the second story of his house so the drop was not short. It wasn't that far to him either. When he was little he and his friends would climb trees and jump off the branches all of the time. It had been an awful long while since then but he thought that he could jump down that far easily.

Walker took his pack off and dropped it to the ground. It landed in the bushes with a soft thump and it rustled the bushes. Walker turned to Ingothold. He tried to tell him through images what he wanted him to do. After he finished the dragon looked a bit hesitant but nodded anyway. Walker gently threw him out the window. The dragon spread its wings and flapped them like a scared chicken. His fall was slowed down somewhat but not a lot but thankfully the dragon landed safely into the bushes. Lastly, Walker himself jumped out of the window. The landing sent a few tremors up his legs but they quickly faded away in a few seconds.

He slung his pack over his shoulder once again and hid Ingothold inside the folds of his cloak. Walker stood up in a crouch and walked around the house and into the streets of the city. Once he was a fair distance away from home he stood up tall. Walker's heart beat at an amazingly fast rate it seemed and sweat rolled down his neck and also all over his palms. He thought that every single person he passed was looking at him and knew that he was a Rider and what he was doing. It made him sick to his stomach. But he had to keep walking.

The trip seemed to take so much longer than it usually did. It felt like an hour had passed to Walker when he had only been walking for a few minutes. Street lamps were being lit and the twilight was slowly fading into night. A middle-aged man was sitting in a rocking chair on the front porch of his shop as he watched the people in the street pass by. As Walker passed him, the man nodded his head to him and Walker nodded back to be polite. There was something about the old man that put him on edge. Ingothold even seemed a bit nervous inside his cloak. Walker sped up his pace a bit.

He didn't know why he was so nervous. Everything he saw or heard gave him the chills. The shadows seemed darker and more devilish as if their intricate designs hid some underhand plot to corner them. Walker strained his eyes trying to pierce their darkness but it was too solid to catch a single glimpse of anything.

Ingothold made a sharp high sound. Walker looked down at where he was hidden in his cloak. Ingothold had been warning him about something but instead he had unintentionally distracted him so that Walker didn't see the man leap out of the shadows until he grabbed him. The man pulled Walker into an alley and pushed him up against the wall of a building. The impact knocked the breath out of Walker and he lost his bearings for a moment. It was a moment too long.

The man who had grabbed him punched him across the face and then reached into his belt to get a knife out. Ingothold leaped at the man and bit his hand. The man drew back and screamed in pain giving Ingothold time to arouse Walker from his lost state. Walker managed to get his bearings once again and he quickly picked up Ingothold and ran out the alley.

He ran as fast as he could and pushed and shoved people out of his way. Walker was on a different street than the one he was on earlier so he had to navigate a new route, and quickly. He decided that he was on Carn Street which would eventually turn back and join the street he had been on and then the hall would be right there, but it would be quicker to dodge between the houses at the end of the street. If he did, he would be able to cut right into the field behind the hall where the dragons stayed.

"Walker!" He looked back but only saw the man running after him as he held his left hand. The voice had sounded like Abigail but he didn't see her.

He was beginning to see the end of the street and it gave him hope which fueled him to run even faster than before. Walker could see the little opening between the houses that lead to the field. It was getting closer and closer and closer. His chest hurt and he could hardly breathe but he had to keep going. It took all of his might to keep running. He was almost there. He could see all the way down the opening and could see the green grass growing there. I'm about to make it.

He tripped.

The hard ground rose up to meet him. He had been holding Ingothold so he hadn't been able to put his hands out in front of him. His head hit the ground the hardest and the skin was slitted open in a cut at the top of his forehead and his nose broke. Blood from his nose ran down his face and he tasted it in his mouth. Ingothold flew out of his arms and landed hard on his left front leg. Walker heard a low snap and he saw by how the dragon was holding its leg that it had broken. No! He was going to grab Ingothold again when a strong hand grabbed the back of his cloak and yanked him back. The man who was holding him was glaring at Walker with a vicious grin and was holding a knife in his hand. Walker stared at the knife as its steel glittered in the lamplight. It was almost beautiful. The knife started to come down.

A roar shattered the air. It sliced through the events of the world as easily as a knife through butter, stopping everyone and everything in its place. The man holding Walker let him go to cover his ears and the second he let go Walker raced over and grabbed Ingothold. As it thundered in everyone's eardrums the roar lasted for many seconds before it abruptly stopped.

Everybody looked up to see a large yellow-scarlet dragon arching its neck to look down at the humans, who were as little as ants compared to him. Eridor. There was a moment of silence as they all stared at the majestic dragon and the dragon stared back at the nugatory humans. Several screams pierced the air once more. Everyone turned around and ran in a frenzy away from Eridor.

Unlike everyone else though, the man with the knife proceeded forward toward Walker. He raised his knife high above his head and it came down once more. And once more it was stopped. A long thin sword came out from behind Walker and knocked the knife out of the man's hand. Rhylite took the sword and its twin and crossed them and used them to push the man back.

A hand took hold of Walker's arm and gently pulled him back. He looked over at Vesta standing beside him. In her right hand she held by her side a Lykx, a weapon with a thin wooden handle in the middle with two flat wide blades extending out either end. "Are you hurt," she asked.

It took a while for Walker to calm down enough that he could utter words and it was even harder with blood in his mouth, but his answer soon came out. "'m al rit. But I ink tat Inotold brot ne of his les."

"Give him to me." He handed the dragon over to her carefully so not to unintentionally hurt Ingothold. Vesta examined the leg. "It is broken, but I can fix it easily." She placed her hand over the leg and said in a low voice, "Waíse heill." When she drew her hand back, the leg was completely healed.

"Than ou." said Walker.

"It was nothing." she replied as she handed Ingothold back to him. She then put her hand over Walker's nose and repeated the phrase. He felt his nose snap back into place with a tiny prick of pain. He wiped some of the blood off of his face with his sleeve.

"Thank you," he said again before turning his attention back to the street.

Everybody had left except for a handful of people, he, Ingothold, Vesta, Eridor, Rhylite, the man who had attacked Walker, a tall man with gloves with metal spikes on the knuckles, and the man who had been sitting on the porch and had nodded at Walker. To his ultimate surprise he saw his father and also standing a ways back Abigail and his mother. Mother's and Abigail's arms were interlocked and his mother wore a look of horror on her face while Abigail's was still blank.

Rhylite and the man who had attacked Walker were standing three feet apart. Their stances were of that of men ready to fight but neither made a move to do so. The man was yelling so hard he spat while Rhylite was trying to talk to him in a calm tone which wasn't working one bit.

"You pig, curd-faced bastards–."

"Calm down. If you would just listen–."

"I won't ever listen to you pig-brained asses–."

Rhylite finally gave up with the calm approach. "Quiet! I will not tolerate you senseless fools that call yourselves the Domia abr kyn. You have crossed the line too many times. I will make sure that you will pay for all that have done."

"You will make us pay?" said the man who had nodded to Walker earlier. He stepped forward and motioned for the other man to step back and he did. "We have done nothing wrong. It is you, you the Dragon Rider, you the Dragons, you who support them. You have too much power and you really aren't protecting us, the people. You only want to satisfy your own desires and you do that by preying on us. You take the innocent and make them Riders and turn them into believing your ways," he motioned toward Walker. "You have too much power, more than any man should have. You have tricked everyone in to believing that having you around is right. Even the mighty king, Galbatorix, was fooled. To have complete peace you must destroy all of you, every single one. All of the dragons, the riders, and even the magicians. It is time to rid all of you, vermin, from this world forever."

"You have it wrong, Edoc'sil. We mean to keep peace in Alagaësia, not what you speak. If you let us, I'm sure we can come to an understanding. But exterminating us is not the right path. If you do, Alagaësia will be more corrupted than ever before. Drop your weapons and stop fighting and for a change listen to us."

The man, Edoc'sil, spat in Rhylite's face. "You may claim victory today, but I promise you . . . It will be short-lived." He turned around and walked down the street and the other two men followed behind.

As he watched them leave, Walker let out a breath he had been holding. The knot in his chest finally loosened, but not for long. It tightened back up when he saw his family still there. His father marched up to Rhylite.

"I demand to have my son handed back to me immediately," he told Rhylite in a stern voice.

"We did not take him from you. If he wishes to return to you he can. We have no problem with that."Rhylite said in his calm voice. He turned to look at Walker.

"Come with me, Walker. I've had enough foolishness going around." his father said as he began to walk back to the house.

"No." One syllable. One word. That was all it took. It felt amazing to say. He was surprised by how easy it was to say too. Walker could not recall one memory of him disobeying his father before. But he hadn't ever had a good enough reason to do so until now. He was not going to touch Ingothold. They were bonded and he would guard him with his life. That thought gave him strength he had never had before to stand up to people, like his father.

His father slowly turned around and glared at Walker. "What did you say?" The reply was low but it was all the more menacing that way.

"Rhylite said that if I wanted to return I could. I don't want to return."

"He is right," Rhylite said. "He does not wish to go back. You may go now." A vein in Walker's father's temple bulged. His father made a move to step toward Walker. "You may go," Rhylite said again louder than before. He also tightened his grip on his swords, a move that did not go unnoticed by Walker's father.

He looked once more at Walker and at Rhylite and then turned around and started to walk away. "Come with me." he told Walker's mother and Abigail. They turned around too and walked after him. As she turned around, Abigail cast a glance at Walker. For a moment he thought he saw sadness in her eyes but she turned around so he could see her eyes no more.

"Come with me," Vesta told Walker. He followed her through the opening between the houses and into the field where Eridor stayed. Eridor drew back from looking over the street and Rhylite followed them from behind.

When they exited the opening and Rhylite came up on Walker's other side Walker asked him, "Those men who were chasing me, they were the Domia abr kyn, weren't they?"

"Yes," he replied. "That man I was talking to is their leader, Edoc'sil. I believe his name used to be Edward but he changed it a long time ago to Edoc'sil which means 'unconquerable' in the Ancient Language. We have had some run-ins with each other in the past."

"Doesn't the Domia abr kyn have many different groups that run in different cities? How is he their leader?"

"You are right. They have many groups spread throughout the Empire and Surda. Edoc'sil is only the leader of the group in Carvahall. The Domia abr kyn has no leader that rules over all of them." Eridor curled back up in the field as if to rest but his eyes remained opened. When they got near him, they all stopped walking.

"Why have you left your home, Walker?" Rhylite inquired. Walker told them the whole story about how his father had wanted to get rid of Ingothold and of how he couldn't have let that happen so he ran away. He also told them of his attack by the Domia abr kyn.

"I knew it was not entirely right to leave you alone at your home, but it was not my place to step in between you and your father. He should be honored to have his son as a Rider. I don't understand why he isn't."

He's very controlling. That's all. Walker did not say these words out loud. It was true but it would not be right to speak against his father that way.

Vesta ran her finger over Ingothold's snout. "You two must be hungry. Come inside. We'll get you something to eat."

Food does sound nice. Ingothold thrummed with pleasure in Walker's arms. They followed Vesta inside the Hall.

Walker and Ingothold stayed for only a week at the Hall. They were confined to stay in the Hall and to the field behind the Hall for their own safety. It would have been terribly boring if not for Vesta and Eridor. They visited often and Vesta even started to teach Walker sword fighting. Vesta was by far the most talented swordsman Walker had ever seen, even though he hadn't seen many. Walker had no experience in sword fighting and he failed miserably to hold his own against her, even when she wasn't really trying that hard, but Vesta was patient and continued to teach him. She wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. He improved a little. By the end of the week he could deflect at least one blow, if she wasn't trying that hard.

Vesta and Eridor also told them about many other things. They told them about the changes that happen to Riders, about the Ancient Language, about the wonders of the east, about the mighty Eragon and Saphira, and of many other things they had seen throughout their lives. It turned out that Vesta was about 200 years old.

Walker did not see any of his family that week. He feared that he would not ever see them again. When the company that was going to see Walker and Ingothold safely to Ilirea was getting ready to leave a crowd was gathering to see them off. He searched the crowd and he saw his father and mother standing among the dozens of other people. Mother and Father are here. He searched the crowd again, more thoroughly this time. But not Abigail. His heart plummeted within his chest.

"Is anything wrong," Vesta asked him.

"No. Nothing's wrong." He told her.

"Did you ever get a chance to talk to your sister?"

"Once. But it didn't go too well." Walker frowned.

"Don't think you'll never get to see her again. You may see her, but not for many years. But maybe then she'll listen."

Walker looked at Vesta. "Thank you," he told her. What she said hadn't helped but he wanted to thank her for at least trying.

She nodded and then walked away.

Walker mounted the horse ready for him and Ingothold climbed onto his shoulders. It was a while before everything was ready for them to set off. Rhylite gave a speech to the people as a farewell but Walker didn't really listen to it. It saddened him to leave the place he had known his whole life. He had never ventured out of Carvahall. Never. Now he would venture across all of Alagaësia, and maybe even one day, the world.

When Rhylite finished speaking the ground beneath their feet shook as the great dragon, Eridor, with Vesta on his back, launched into the sky. Slowly the company started their long journey to Ilirea. Walker looked back at the crowd on last time. His parents did not look happy as they saw him off. He had left things at home a mess. One day I'll come back to clean it up. I'll come back to Carvahall one day. I promise. Even if the world tries to stop me, I'll come back. He turned around and his horse joined everyone else in their long journey.

Did you like it? If you did (or if you have any suggestions) please, Please, PLEASE review. I would absolutely love it if you did. Have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!