Author's Note: Hi guys hope you are all doing well, last week had my exams so I could not upload this chapter because I had not completed it but finally it's here. Thanks for your support and your great reviews. So as long you guys keep those reviews coming I will keep these chapters coming. New chapters will be uploaded every Sunday.


Drovengard

I - Eragon

The little magical bird made of elm chirped loudly, blaring in Eragon's ears until he retrieved the timepiece and pressed a protruding switch upon its back, silencing the annoying chirp. He sighed in relief before smiling, the bird was effective. It was actually an experiment by one of the scholars in the library who had improved upon the conventional designs of timepieces. Instead of having to wind a timepiece whenever one wanted for it to go off, this new invention remembered the preferred time of ringing and would ring every day at that time thus eliminating the need for winding. It was one of the early inventions of the Scholars of Drovengard.

Eragon yawned loudly, he was still in his soft bed nestled within his quilt. The previous day's work had been long and arduous and he wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. However, in doing that he would be piling up reports further and thus asking for Saphira's wrath, something he didn't enjoy in the mornings.

As that thought crossed his mind Saphira's warm consciousness merged with his. That's quite wise of you, she said with slight humour.

I know, Eragon replied with a smile, how are you today Saphira? he asked his closest companion and greatest friend.

I'm fine little one, and you? she asked, her voice taking on the motherly tone he was so used to by now.

Never better, said Eragon.

Saphira was out on her early hunt as Eragon felt a shivering breeze sweep past her body. Their bond over these ten years had grown so strong that he could feel every trickle of sense and sensation she felt. He didn't have to imagine what being a dragon felt like. Through Saphira, he experienced that desire.

Eragon took a deep breath inhaling the morning air, cold and fresh, before rising from his bed to stretch his stiff muscles. A chill ran up his spine as his feet touched the cool floor of his home which was entirely built of white stone. It was a simple home, its basic structure very similar to his tree house in Ellesméra. It had a circular vestibule with three screen doors embedded within the stone wall leading from the vestibule. One to an austere dining room, the second to a large study room and the third door opened to a bedroom within which Eragon stood at the moment.

After stretching, he headed to the balcony in the far end of the room, swerving past the huge, low-rimmed bowl set in the floor where Saphira normally slept. From inside his room Eragon could guess how cold it was going to be outside. His wards protected him from the weather as long as he remained within his room, but once he passed the threshold of his room into the balcony the wards became obsolete. He smiled, no better way of fully waking up, and with that thought he passed the threshold of his room and a bone chilling wind instantly engulfed him. He was surrounded by thick fog, it made it impossible to see the ground far below. It was eerie up here, it was silent, all he could hear was the wind blowing past. Eragon stood there for a few moments before dimming flashes of light filled the fog. They shone in yellows, blues and greens and were accompanied by thundering roars. Eragon still could not see anything through the fog but he knew those flashes, he had seen them too many time before, dragon fire.

Thud! Thud! Thud! Eragon heard wing beats above him and as he looked up he saw an enormous black mass three times the size of Saphira fly overhead, its steely tail whipping through the fog before disappearing in its depths. A sudden shiver passed through him and he took it as a queue to go back inside. He returned to his bed and folded the bed sheets in a neat pile before sauntering into the washroom adjoined to his bedroom. Eragon washed his face and hands, welcoming the warm sensations coursing through his grizzled body. The water's temperature was perfect, it was controlled through the energy stored in a ruby embedded within the washroom wall. He examined the ruby's energy and like always it was full due to the Eldunarí who were in sorts the power source of all rider structures in Drovengard. After washing, Eragon dried off, changed into a green leather coat and black trousers, attached his sword Brisingr to his waist belt, and finally groomed his hair. This unfortunately became his sort of ritual for the past couple of years and more so during winter since he had nothing else to do.

After washing, he headed to the kitchen attached to the dining room to prepare his breakfast. His breakfast consisted of slices of bread spread with jam along with fruits and a glass of berry juice. His proficiency in preparing food had improved drastically over time, it had become a hobby he spent some of his free time to further hone. Following breakfast, he headed towards the study to complete the reports sent to him by Blӧdhgarm, who had become a close friend over the years. Like always, beneath the study door he could see the soft yellow glow of the ever burning Erisdar lantern. Its glow always reminded him of the light within the great Dwarven cities built in the Beor Mountains. Opening the door, he strolled in past the numerous bookshelves towards his table in the far end of the room. His table was covered by the reports which had piled up over the last few days, however above all the reports was a blue leather bound book with a note attached on top.

Enjoy this book, it's filled with romance and we both know you need some of that in your life. The trees in the Elmdore Forest speak of spring soon approaching, which means I get to visit Drovengard again and the students get their awesome sword fighting teacher back.

Nimel.

On a further note you look quite cute when you sleep.

Eragon shook his head, Nimel was never going to change. Nevertheless, as he thought about it a question irked him. How did Nimel enter his room while there were magical barriers protecting it? However, the answer came instantly. Saphira.

So it was you, Eragon said.

What was me? Excuse me?

Seriously Saphira you really need to grow up. However his words had no impact as Saphira was already booming with laughter. Eragon sighed, noting to himself to get Saphira back by some other means.

He opened the top drawer of his table and placed the book inside before settling down in his chair. The only other object on his table other than the reports was an inclined frame which held the Drovengard treaty. The treaty had been a great achievement that the elves and Eragon had accomplished when they first arrived in Ascillion. The treaty signified them as allies of the wood elves whose great forest lay before the city of Drovengard. When they had first arrived the many wood elves had not taken kindly to the future he promised to the land especially in the form of dragons. However, after many weeks of convincing and conversation, a pact between the three elven Lords and Eragon had formed, a pact which allowed them to live in Ascillion but on the condition that the city they would build would be open to the wood elves. Eragon agreed to the fact that all the levels of the city except the level specifically for the riders would be open to all and that would include a library with more knowledge than ever seen before. The wood elves agreed and helped Eragon build the city which took the better part of seven years to complete.

Eragon smiled, he was glad that pact had formed for through it he had met some wonderful people which included some teachers for his students. Returning his attention to the reports before him, Eragon sighed. Shifting through the sheaf of reports was admittedly menial work, but the sheer quantity kept him busy enough. Student progress reports, diplomatic treaties, guest lists for Drovengard, construction reports, cost reports, resource reports, and many other reports took the whole of his early morning.

Saphira reached Drovengard tower at noon, after having feasted on her prey in the forest of Elmdore, which was almost twice the size of Du Weldenvarden.

How was the weather like today? Eragon asked still shuffling through some reports.

Surprisingly more tranquil than before. Winter is nearly at an end. Replied Saphira, settling in the large bowl structure in the floor.

After winter our situation can only get better, said Eragon, after all, in this winter many of the winter crops also died out in the first level of the city.

The winter has always been much harsher here than the winter in Alagaesia, but this winter was the coldest we've ever had. Let's hope the next one is not as harsh.

Aye.

Reading the reports earlier than usual, Eragon decided to review the draft of the curriculum for the training of the New Order. All the instructors – including Eragon, Blӧdhgarm, Nimel, Yuron and Saphira – met regularly to make sure the curriculum was competent enough for training the next elite riders to defend not only Alagaesia, but many more lands like the Old Order had done. Training young riders, however, was something new for all the instructors. No one could boast that one had experience in such matters and so in that sense everyone was a novice when it came to tackling such a profession. The Eldunarí had the knowledge but it was one thing to have sufficient knowledge to teach something and the actual teaching itself.

Eragon sighed, laying back in his chair, Saphira had left earlier and he had only noticed now. He opened the top drawer of his table in order to see what the book Nimel had given him was about. As he pulled it out he shuffled some of the papers underneath the book revealing the edge of a white slate. He grasped the slate and removed it from his drawer to reveal a fairth he had made long ago. He didn't even remember he still had it. Eragon blocked his mind from Saphira's before swiping his hand over the surface of the fairth to remove the thin film of dust which had gathered upon it. As the dust cleared, he could see that on the white slate, dazzled by colours, was the portrait of an elf women. She was standing tall, garbed in a beautiful silver dress, while her raven black hair was perched on her shoulders, unbound by the band that normally imprisoned them. Her eyes, the green pools of emerald, were looking out of the fairth with a shine of amusement, a gesture mirrored by her lips which were also curved into a gentle smile. A sigh escaped his lips as he imagined what could have been. However as the steel grip of reality settled back in he placed the fairth back into the darkness of the drawer and locked it away.

The majority of the reports were finished and thus he decided he deserved a break. He left the study and headed for the balcony, he could hear distant roars which he knew were actually quite close but were supressed by the wards around the room. And once again as he stepped out into the openness of the balcony the weather and the sounds instantly invaded his senses. The air level at the height of his room was still cold and bitter but the fog had dramatically thinned out and the sun was in full force, warming the city in the vast valley below. Eragon looked down towards the city which glowed white due to the sunlight bouncing of the white rock from which it was constructed

He could now see the three walls each half a league apart marking the three levels of the city. He saw a host of elves patrolling on top of each wall. As he looked to the point where the walls were embedded into the mountains of the valley he could see the snow on their bases trickle in droplets to clear watery streams. The snow on the boughs of trees, peppered throughout the grassy plains within the city, melted in small tears, weeping in joy for the hopeful arrival of spring. Elves walked along the cobbled yellow pathways passing through one level of the city to another, while some he could see sitting on white benches reading while others performed the Rimgar on the open grassy plains. From Edoc'sil tower he could see the entirety of the city. A large host of elves, including his friend Yuron, entered the second level of the city from the third before manoeuvring past the various training grounds and disappearing into the Great Library of Drovengard.

Eagles, for the first time since the onset of winter, arrived in large convocations. Their shrill cries filled the air, drowning out all other sounds. They flew in from the open mouth of the valley and passed over the walls before circling above the city. A large host of them dove into the third level of the city, furthest away from him where the markets and abodes of the elves held plenty of food they could scavenge. He saw a few sitting on the glass dome of the great library in the second level of the city no doubt distracting the scholars working inside. One flew down from the sky and sat down on the stone railing of the balcony on Edoc'sil right next to Eragon.

Immediately, the wild dragons roared, silencing the eagles and setting every other presence of nature on high alert. Eragon smiled and looked at the Erona Mountains, lair of the wild dragons, right behind the tower of Edoc'sil where many large caves had been carved into the mountain. Suddenly, a group of wild dragons of various colours flew out of the caves and lit the sky in rainbow fire, scorching the eagles before eating them as appetisers. The scene was surreal; dragons with all contrasts of skin and fire danced with all manner of magnificence making the hunt feel more like a theatrical performance rather than the brutal hunt it was. He watched as the remaining eagles scrambled away and the dragon sailed over the city towards Elmdore forest in order to hunt for more prey.

As he was admiring the land, Saphira's soft voice re-entered his mind. What are you doing little one? When will you learn that you can never admire a land more than when you lay eyes upon it from the sky?

Eragon could sense the pride emanating in her voice. Well I'll have to admit that, he said, his lips twitching into a gentle smile as the memories of sailing through the clouds on Saphira's back while the wind tore at his body rushed into his mind. By the way, where are you? Asked Eragon looking for his blue speck in the sky.

It had been a while since I had washed my scales so I decided to take a swim, and as to where I am, well let's just say right above you, and as she said that he heard strong wings beating in the air above him and saw her figure sail through the clouds before landing in the balcony with a gentle thud, the eagle on the railing tried to escape but in flash Saphira had eaten it.

Nothing like a quick swim in the morning, Saphira said, folding her massive wings and enjoying the gentle breeze playing upon her glistening scales, which sparkled that much more due to the droplets of water clinging to them.

I was growing fond of that eagle you know, you didn't have to eat it.

Well I didn't have to but I guess I did, anyway only one predator can call Edoc'sil home and that's certainly not a flying chicken.

Eragon laughed before stepping forward and embracing his dragon's head, which had grown much larger since their arrival in Ascillion. It was a silent moment in which nothing was spoken, a moment in which they listened to the wind blow and the soft cries of the birds in the distance, a moment of peace and love, one which told them without words spoken that they loved each other more than anything in the world.

Little one…,

Saphira…just think where we would be today if I had sold your egg all those years ago,

Well I don't know where I would be but you would definitely be working on some farm, cleaning a barn most likely,

Is that so?

Yes, very much so, however I don't think you would be a very successful farmer, with your undying curiosity I doubt you would be capable of sowing the same fields over and over each year.

Eragon laughed, hmmm I guess you're right.

Just then a gentle knock was heard on the front door causing Eragon and Saphira to avert their attention to the entrance.

"May I enter Shadeslayer?" asked an elegant voice which Eragon knew quite well.

"Yes, you may," replied Eragon, walking back into his room.

Opening the door, an elf entered, his blue fur rippling in the tender breeze.

Raising his hand to meet his lips, the elf greeted Eragon in the traditional elven greeting which Eragon kindly returned.

"So what's up Blödhgarm?" asked Eragon in a very casual tone, one which was now normal between him and the blue furred elf.

"Shadeslayer, the wood elves have asked me to relay a message to you, they are saying that there is an urgent matter that they must discuss with you, one regarding Alagaesia. They have asked me to notify you that tomorrow morning they would like to see you in the village of Cilith."

"How could the wood Elves know anything of Alagaesia?" Eragon muttered, more to himself than any other in the room, however the keen elven ears of Blödhgarm heard and the elf shrugged in an attempt to relay that he had no idea.

Well we will only find out once we meet them, replied Saphira, so ready for the morning flight?

Of course, replied Eragon before turning towards Blödhgarm."Very well Blödhgarm, we will go to the wood Elves tomorrow morning, in our absence could you keep an eye on the riders?"

"Of course Shadeslayer," replied Blödhgarm with a gentle nod, "I will see you at the training grounds then."

Eragon returned the nod, and turning away from the Elf, approached Saphira before climbing into the hollow of her neck where a black leather saddle was fit just for him. Once he strapped himself in he felt the wave of excitement that always entered his body before he flew with Saphira.

Ready little one? asked Saphira in an excited tone.

I'm ready, replied Eragon, gently patting Saphira on her neck. Just as the words were spoken mentally, Saphira launched off the balcony. Her wings beat heavily, propelling them almost vertically at great speed towards the majestic sky and before he knew it, they were sailing among the misty clouds, a realm which belonged to them.

####

They flew among the clouds for a while before Saphira said, you should have talked to them you know, in a gentle tone.

What do you mean, 'I should have talked to them'?

I mean talking to Garron and Roran and all your family in Alagaesia, it was his birthday yesterday and all you did was send him a gift. I bet anything that hearing your voice would have been the greatest gift you could have ever given him, said Saphira in a sombre tone.

Understanding and grief gripped at Eragon causing his stomach to clench, I know Saphira, but you also know I can't…, he sighed resting his head in his hands.

Little one, for years now your friends have asked after you, even Arya, and each time you ask Blödhgarm to say you're busy elsewhere or speak only of formal matters with them. Eragon you need to let your friends in so they can not only hear your problems but tell you their own. Alagaesia still needs us Eragon… our friends still need us,

Saphira, we have gone through this many times before and my answer is the same as it always was,

I don't get you Eragon, Saphira said in an irritated and angry tone, on one side you miss them every second of your life, but on the other you refuse to talk to them, where is the sense in that!

I tried Saphira! You know I tried, every day for two years and all it did was hurt. Looking at them, my people, my family and all it reminded me was of what I had left behind and what I could never return to and that Saphira I couldn't take,

So what, you will just pretend you're not here whenever they try and contact you or briefly talk to them for no more than a minute on formal topics before ending the conversation?

Yes, Saphira, I will! If it lessens the pain, I will!

Saphira sighed, I understand what you're going through Eragon, I truly do, I'm a part of you, I feel what you feel, but not talking to your friends is not the answer, we cannot allow a prophecy to control our lives,

It was more than that Saphira, you were there… I know you remember, and just then the words he had heard all those years ago filled his mind. 'You cannot change your fate, no man can'.

An old man warning us of death should not stop us, we choose our fate Eragon, we make our own destiny.

Eragon did not respond so she continued. Your family does not have the long life we have Eragon. Roran, Katrina, Ismira and Garron. Your fate has been cast and they can't wait for an eternity just to see you or even talk to you, therefore enjoy those around you while you still have time,

Don't speak like that Saphira, pleaded Eragon in a defeated tone.

But it's the truth little one, the greatest truth about life is the inevitability of death.

Following this statement, they flew in silence for a while. Eragon watched as a flock of birds flew beside them, arched like the head of an arrow. For some reason they were not afraid to fly beside Saphira and in a strange way it felt nice like they had companions in the sky.

Maybe these birds have come from Alagaesia, maybe we've flown beside them before, he thought watching them.

We both know we cannot return, but will you at least talk to them? inquired Saphira, turning her head to fix a deep, blue eye on him.

I will try, replied Eragon, losing the battle he knew he could never win.