Sorry for the wait! Please review! I only own my own OCs, and anything in ' ' is mental speech and ancient language translations are at the bottom of the page. Hope you enjoy! :)

As Eragon led me through a labyrinth of twisting tents and clearings, he spoke to me. "What is Uru'baen like, Vraela?" I told him, "Uru'baen will always be nothing more than the Black City and the center of my pain. The streets are crowded, so crowded you can barely breathe. The shops are raided by drunk soldiers every other week. The city, in other words, is a source of chaos and mayhem. I will laugh when I stand on its rubble... to feel at peace, and not constantly fighting a rigged war, where only one victor is supposed to emerge."

Eragon suddenly stopped in a clearing with a hundred foot girth from the white tents, with two in the center, and twelve blacks ringing the edges. And as the sun washed the tents in a red light, I felt as if I was seeing the blood to follow this war, won or lost.

Eragon pointed to the black tents, and said, "Those are the tents of my elvish guards. Islandzadi, the current elf queen, sent them to protect me and aid the Varden in battle. Blodgarm is the leader, and Arya, she isn't a guard. She is an elvish ambassador for the Varden." As if called, twelve elves emerged from the tents, and stared in awe at me and Emerald. Emerald leapt out of my arms and took to lay at Saphira's side, while I was bombarded by questions, names, and laughter.

After retelling my story, Blodgarm said, "All our history says... says you were never found. Your father had many statues of you, no wonder the brigade never found you..." Blodgarm embraced me, and I realized what I had assumed was a fur coat was true fur on his skin. One elf, Yaela, was especially kind. But the moon rose, and the toll of my travels seemed to double, and weigh upon me. I said, "I feel I need to rest, so I wish you all good sleep tonight. All the elves happily bode me good night, and Eragon directed me to the tent on the left.

The inside was simple, the way I liked it. A small cot, a stool, and a bucket of water with a waterskin floating. I saw a leather, battle-style dress, and became suddenly aware of my tattered clothes. I realized I had appeared before the two most imortant people in all of Alegasia in a ripped, scarred, and blackened dress, and felt rather embarrassed. But I still lay on the cot as if its rough surface was a cloud, pulled a woolen blanket over myself, and was enveloped by sleep. But my troubles did not end with the night.

I dreamed of horrible things. I saw the elf, Wyrden, being impaled by sharpened crystals, Eragon and Arya hanging over black eggs, with squirming evils inside, the gates of Dras-Leona opening, a red dragon, larger than Saphira, attacking the blue dragon, and they continued. The worst things: hanging over the land, Eragon calling to me, being overrun by trespassing minds, and being in the throne room of Uru'baen. I was buried in rubble, barely alive, watching Eragon fight with a blurry figure, Galbatorix's evil laugh crying out...

I woke with the sun, sure I was still dying under the rubble, but found I was alive and in my tent with the Varden. I donned the leather dress, strapped Laufsbläd (as I had deigned to call my sword) to my waist, and adjusted my boots. As I pushed back the flap of the tent, all the dark memories of my dream faded in the ever growing sunlight. Eragon sat outside on Saphira's foreleg, seemingly explaining something to the elves around him. I saw the way his tan skin gleamed and his brown, wavy hair swayed, and was filled with a sense of longing.

I shook my head. No. I could not distract myself or Eragon. It could cost us the war, one slip. I walked over, and saw Emerald batting at Saphira's tail, pouncing, then being thrown off by Saphira's powerful tail. Eragon and the elves bid me a good morning, and I to them. I asked, "What are you speaking of this morning?" Eragon said, "Blodgarm is insisting that I only fly over the roads." I smiled at Blodgarm and said, "Would you fly close to the roads if you were a Rider?" He seemed shocked by this question.

He slowly said, "No. I would fly as far as the sky extended." I replied, "Then do not limit Eragon. I yearn to fly, and Emerald will carry me someday. Blodgarm, think of the egg in Uru'baen. You could raise it, but will Eragon be helpful if he cannot wander? Can he kill Galbatorix if he must remain at your side?" All had looks of shock and awe on their faces. I said, "I learned in Uru'baen, and no matter what you think of Galbatorix, his knowledge is extensive. Know this. Now, who would like to spar?"

Eragon said, "You know, Saphira, show Emerald how to fly. I will spar with Vraela." Saphira grunted unhappily, but when Emerald nudged her, she agreed. We quickly ran up ahead of the wagons, and into a grove of trees, all of the elves followed.

We quickly dulled our sword so we wouldn't (majorly) hurt each other, and took positions opposite of each other. I said, "As you are half human, I'll take it easy on you." Eragon answered by narrowing his eyes, a dubious glint to them. In the background, I heard Yaela and Wyrden whispering about money and who would win, and I realized they were placing bets.

Eragon charged, slightly underestimating me but aiming a blow at my legs, which I blocked easily and spun Brisingr out of his hand with a flick of the wrist. For hours, he challenged me, not backing down, even when he was drenched in sweat, and I felt tired, but dared not show it, even to Eragon. Only once in our five hours of fighting did one of his blows land; a hard shot to the chest.

As Eragon challenged me again (for the 573 time, Blodgarm kept count), Arya stepped up and said, "Stop! All your doing is overworking yourselves! Sooner or later, one of you will drop from exhaustion. Stop now, and I mean it." I looked at her, silently thanking her, and she smiled back. I felt slightly jealous of her, as I wasn't blind, and could see how Eragon mooned over her. I put Laufsbläd back into its sheath and sat down next to Yaela.

~Dras-Leona~

All days, I wish, could have been like that. But instead, Eragon was with Nasuada, the elves following him of course, and I was not invited. I asked once, and Nasuada claimed Emerald would need to grow before we spoke of battle or strategy. But I knew from the way Nasuada looked at me that she didn't trust me fully. She saw the daughter, adopted or not, of the Black King, the source of her problems, not a girl who wanted to help.

One night, I found the nightmares weakened the nightmares, and I sang a song Vrael had taught me:

O liquid temptress 'neath the azure sky,
Your gilded expanse calls me, calls me.
For I would sail ever on,
Were it not for the elven maid,
Who calls me, calls me.
She binds my heart with a lily-white tie,
Never to be broken, save by the sea,
Ever to be torn twixt the trees and the waves.

As I sang, I felt energy flow out of me, as if it was... a spell... I didn't stop, and I watched as Emerald doubled, tripled... she grew until she was the size of Saphira! Once she got this large, I felt the magic growing too massive, and I stopped singing. Miraculously, no one saw Emerald's transformation, but I went and found Nasuada. She called it a miracle of the dragons gone, and sent for spell-casters to duplicate Saphira's armor for Emerald.

Orrin tried constantly to pull me under his thumb, but I wasn't an idiot. I started avoiding any from his army or court, as I knew how badly he wanted his own Rider. But I wished Orrin was the least of my problems. I had to deal with the ever sharper nightmares, the images of Dras-Leona growing more clear every night.

And now, we were camped outside Dras-Leona, in chain mail and weaponry, the doors... sealed.

Laufsbläd=leaf