04/11/13: My apologies to everyone for the disorganized nature of this chapter! I had dashes in place to seperate the various perspective changes, but apparently they did not go through when I uploaded this chapter. I didnt realize until now that it was one continuous jumbled mess. Fixed it now, so sorry for the confusion!

The half-hour-later update: I wanted to add on a little up here. Firstly, the views are now up to 10,300! And I have updated the cover photo for this story. Also, some shoutouts: Elemental Dragon Slayer, thank you for being a long-time reader and reviewer of both this and my oneshot Igniting The Flame. Booklover1598, you are the reason I joined this site, and have been a long time supporter and reader. Plus you're an awesomazing writer XP. mr rophone, you are relatively new I think but are one of the most enthusiastic readers XD. That's all for this one. Please log in and leave a review! If you give a helpful review, I will probably be more likely to check your stories out and, if I like them, give you some recognition like this. Oh, and I am going to answer some reviews that guests left down at the bottom of the story.

Time for another chapter! For this one, I had to jump around through different perspectives a ton, haha, hope you guys dont mind too much. Also, Thanks to your continued support, this story now has over 10,100 views! Thank you to all of you, it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy to know that people enjoy my writing X) As always, please leave a review, and hope you enjoy!

Chapter 23:

Prophecy Disproved

Fenrir kicked a worn-down stone around his small prison sell, the last faint hours of moonlight cascading through the miniscule, barred opening that they called a window. He hoped he would be able to explain things peacefully to Lord Roran before his hanging. Not that he would be staying for it. If Stronghammer insisted on hanging him, Fenrir would be forced to make a quick escape, possibly with less regard with guard casualties this time around.

Laying down on the rough, stone-cold cot in his cell, he rested, awaiting the coming dawn.

Eragon smiled as the familiar land mass of Alagaesia came into view on the horizon. Feeding off reserve energies, they add drastically reduced their travel time to only a little over a month, as opposed to the many months it took them to arrive in their new land by boat.

They began their descent, planning to let Sapphira rest on the shoreline before continuing on to Elesmera.

Arya turned around as an exhausted Elf came running into her court.

"My Queen, my apologies, we have urgent news," the Elven man said in between heavy breaths.

"Is it Fenrir? Have they found him?" she asked hopefully.

"No. I mean, it could be. It's… Our scouts saw a Dragon and Rider landing on the eastern shore. They ran to spread the news before they could identify them, but it could be..."

"Eragon," Arya finished the man's sentence in a stunned whisper.

Roran apologized to his wife as one of his stewards interrupted their sleep with a loud knock on their bedroom door.

"What is it? It had better be important," Roran asked sleepily

"I am sorry, Sir, but our mages received word from the Elves. They say they have spotted an unidentified Rider on the eastern shore."

Roran gave a deep, farm-boy's laugh before catching himself. He cleared his throat and resumed the Lordly air that was expected of him.

"Begin dusting off this old place and get the hall prepared for a feast worthy of a king. We may have a guest in the coming days," he ordered the steward, barely containing a smile.

"What about the prisoner, Sir?"

"Bah, that criminal is not going anywhere, leave him to rot in there until we can get around to that business. Right now, our focus is our guest having a warm welcome when he arrives."

Valeria led the other Riders through the thick grassy fields as they trudged through to New Carvahall. Fenrir and Aunyx travelled fast, but they were horrible at covering their tracks. It was easy to follow the path of the different campsites they left behind as they rested each night. Aunyx left huge clawprints in the dirt as he lifted off for flight. Fenrir left behind campfires with dirt kicked over them, a hasty and poorly done way to put out the fire before they left.

The month of tracking them had led her to New Carvahall, home of Lord Stronghammer.

They entered the town, lightly touching the minds of everyone they could in search of Fenrir. No one they searched had any recollection of seeing the missing Rider.

Valeria looked up to the crimson sun slowly rising over the horizon, hoping they would not have to spend all day locating the blasted fool.

Eragon smiled, running his hands through the sand of the beach. It had now been, by his guess, almost twenty years since he had left these shores. It felt surreal to be back.

It wasn't all that difficult to prove Angela's prophecy wrong, was it Sapphira?

Yes, it is strange to be here when all her other prophecies seem to have been true.

Nobody's perfect. Maybe she was wrong?

I find that hard to believe, Little One. Perhaps her words were not so literal as we thought? Or we misheard her? Whatever the case, we need to find her while we are here. That woman was frightening, even to a Dragon.

Eragon laughed, but he knew Sapphira was right. Going against her prophecy made him feel uneasy, and he needed to find out what she had meant by it.

Sapphira let out a low growl.

Eragon, there are men on the horizon. They are armed.

Eragon squinted, trying to make out the figures. His Elven sight let him see their outline, but he could not see their faces.

There was a distant snapping sound before Eragon looked up to see a volley of arrows. With a quick spell, he sent a gust of wind blowing them off to the side, where the stuck into the loose sand.

He retrieved Brisingr from a sheathe mounted on Sapphira's harness and sprinted towards the attackers. He soon closed the distance between them and engaged the White cloaked men. In a quick display of swordplay, he dispatched five of them, leaving one more standing. With a murmured spell, he pinned the man to the ground.

"Who are you? Why have you attacked us?" Eragon shouted at the man, who was visibly frightened now that his fellow soldiers were not around.

"Du Hvitr Istalri Dominia. We were sent to defend Alagaesia's shore against a mage."

"By who? Why would you consider a mage a threat?"

"They are all threats, we are keeping the citizens of Alagaesia safe."

"Now who sent you?"

"Queen Nasuada I."

Eragon paused his interogation. He could not believe that the woman he helped put on the throne would do this.

"You received your orders directly from Nasuada?"

"No, but Sir Proteus gave the order under her authority."

"Proteus?"

"He is one of the Queen's advisors and relays her orders to Du Hvitr Istalri Dominia."

Eragon sighed.

I leave for two decades and they can't keep things running?

He turned and began walking toward Sapphira, who had walked over to them during the Eragon's questioning.

"I told you everything you asked, Rider, release me now!"

Eragon mounted Sapphira.

"I will, if you tell me one last thing."

"Fine, what is it?

"Where is the outpost you and your fellow soldiers came from? I highly doubt you walked all the way here from the Capitol."

"It's just a small fort to the west of here. Now please, release me!"

Eragon released the spell as Sapphira rose into the air.

Simon rubbed his wrists, sore from the magic shackles that had binded him. He stood up and turned to head back to camp, only to see it going up in flames as the Dragon soared past, raining fire from its maw.

Eragon shifted in the harness, the wind tearing past him.

Sapphira, we need to see Nasuada.

We will not be visiting Elesmera, Little One?

We will have to visit Elesmera later, I am sure the Elves are fine.

His thoughts drifted to his brother.

We do need to go to New Carvahall however.

We have time to visit your old home but not to check on the Elves?

I need to make sure Roran is fine. He is much closer to the Capitol than Elesmera.

Of course, Little One.

Roran sat restlessly in his study, feigning interest in the book he held in his hand. It had now been almost two weeks since the supposed sighting of Eragon on the shore. He knew traveling the distance of Alagaesia took weeks or months, even by Dragon, but he was growing restless.

Katrina saw him staring blankly at the words in front of him.

"Roran, please, stop worrying," Katrina urged him.

He smiled at her.

"I know, but I cannot help it, I grow impatient."

"You cannot grow impatient if you were never patient to begin with," Katrina teased.

Roran laughed and kissed her.

"Quite true, my love."

A loud thump shook the Keep around them.

"Geez, Sapphira, can we land a little softer next time?"

Sapphira knelt down in the Keep's courtyard as Eragon dismounted.

Only if you do not insist on being in such a hurry next time. This is too much flying for me, Little One.

"Well, look who it is!"

Eragon turned to the familiar voice of Roran. He had aged well for a human, maintaining his muscular build and he had a well-trimmed beard. Katrina stood beside him, just as beautiful as when he had last seen her, with only small signs of aging in her face. To Roran's other side stood who Eragon assumed was their daughter, Ismira. She was a seemingly healthy young woman, her copper hair bound in a ponytail. All were dressed in "casual-royal" attire, if there was such a thing. Clothes done up enough to look the part of a Lordly family, but they were clearly not expecting guests today.

"Roran! The years have not been easy on you, have they?" Eragon replied jokingly.

"That's easy for you to say considering you still look like a young child. Look at you, hairless as a baby's bottom. Those Elves managed to keep you even less manly than before!"

They embraced with a brotherly roughness.

"Feels like you have not held out on your feasting oppurtunities here." Eragon teased, motioning towards Roran's slightly rounded stomach.

"Or perhaps you have not feasted enough! Come! Let me show you the benefits of staying in a civilized land, brother," Roran replied, motioning Eragon to follow.

"What about-"

"Oh, don't worry, we will have our men bring plenty out for Sapphira as well."

Fenrir layed perfectly still in his cell. He had not heard anything else since the loud thump had shaken the stone ceiling above his head. His thoughts immediately turned to the White Fire.

They have found me.

He had played along with the Lord's prison game for too long to sit idly by while the White Fire invaded. With a whispered spell, he unhinged the barred door to his cell and escaped, sneaking past the prison guards whow were passed out drunk, and carefully made his way up the stairs to the ground level of the Keep.

Valeria motioned the others to stay close behind her as they weaved through the crowds of people in the marketplace. With a Dragon landed in the courtyard, and an unknown Rider, Lord Stronghammer could be in great danger. They sprinted past the guards, who were no match for their Elven speed, and toward the Keep.

Eragon and Roran continuing catching up with each other as they made their way through the Keep to the main hall where the feast was to be held. Roran took great pride in his new position, pointing out the skilled craftsmanship that went into the structure, and pointing down long hallways to show how many guard barracks, libraries, studies, and other rooms he had in the Keep. Eragon kept quiet about the monumental architecture projects that were under way back in the New Land, not wanting to overshadow Roran's accomplishments.

Soon they arrived in the main hall, with its towering ceiling and thick support columns that were laced with ornate carvings.

Suddenly the main door burst open and four Elves came running in, weapons drawn. Moments later, one of the doors along the side of the room slammed open and a dirty, dark-haired Elf rushed out weilding a chipped metal bar. Eragon drew his sword and Roran pulled a hammer out from under his overcoat. Within seconds the three groups collided with weapons flailing about.

"Stop!"

Eragon thought it was the dirty Elf with the metal bar who had shouted, but they all froze, with blades and a hammer all pointed at eachother.

"Valeria?" the dirt-covered Elf asked under heavy breathing.

"Fenrir?" one of the Elven women answered, just as puzzled.

Eragon momentarily lost his grip on his sword.

"Fenrir?" he asked, unable to believe the situation.

Eragon stood from his low combat stance, and pulled his sword away from his son's throat.

Intense huh? Haha, alright, now to answer some guest reviews.

On chapter 21, Guest "Jack" asked whether Eragon knew that Fenrir had "gone rogue".

A: No, word did not get to Eragon before he left.

On Chapter 20, Guest "Brandon" gave a very long and detailed review.

A: I want to thank you, because your detailed feedback helped me improve the following chapters. I wish you had logged in though, haha. You had a big hand in shaping pretty much the rest of the story. Others should follow your example and give their input, this story is built on feedback, I havnt planned ahead at all (that was evident in the early chapters).