I only own my own OCs. All mental speech in ' ' and ancient language at the bottom of the page, blah, blah, blah. You know my usual. Hope you like the story. Review me, people. REVIEW OR FOLLOW ME PLEASE!
Galbatorix's soul was gone. Dissolved. Evaporated. Never to return. I was free. A knot in my chest that had been present ever since I left Uru'baen, something I had been so used to feeling, I had forgotten it was there, began to melt. I had always been afraid of my "father," and when I joined the Varden, I knew punishment would come if I was caught. And even when he died, I somehow knew he wasn't gone for good. I couldn't be stopped. I could do anything. But anything wasn't what I'd do. I would continue to help Alegaesia recover from the past hundred years of poverty an fear. But now, nothing restricted me. I had no limits. Nothing could ruin this moment. I watched my frozen squall melt into the ground, but I kept the wind under Arya.
I stumbled over to her, and on the airy bed I'd made her, and I lessened the winds, Arya falling into my arms. I walked over to Eragon, who was only half-conscious, and I laid Arya next to him, put a hand on his chest and felt him breathing regularly. I remembered the Shade had bound Eragon with the ancient language, and so I tried, "Losna." I felt a major energy drop, but Eragon shuddered, and I knew that I had succeeded in freeing him. Firnen and Saphira had flown down the gorge in an attempt to catch Arya if the ledge fell, but now rose up and helped me with their Riders. I then willed the winds to support me. I loved my abilities, though my scar had reached farther than ever before.
Where it had once began at my left shoulder, it spiraled into an double-arched shape on my chest, swirling into a half-heart form. It's leaf green shade wrapped around my shoulders, to my arms, and split in two, one strand around my thumb, the other contacting my gedwey ignasia, which had recently reappeared on my hand. The same happened to my legs and feet, and on my back, the scar formed a T shape. I didn't know how, but lightning had only been the start of my powers; the tip of the iceberg, and now, there was nothing left to find. I had to forget my new appearance for now; Eragon and Arya needed expert healing.
I pushed myself to catch up to the dragons, and we headed for Ília Fëon, the closest place we could find help.
~Arrival in Ília Fëon~
When the beautiful, tree city of Ília Fëon came into view, I was still the only one awake. We heard the elves singing signaling our arrival, and as usual, my people's voices were pleasing to hear. We quickly landed in the largest clearing we could find, a cobblestone path that ran the entire city's length, and I heaved Eragon and Arya from their dragons. Many elves saw, and I was surprised to see Launfin there, an elf who had protected Eragon during the war. He rushed forward and helped me with my unconscious friends. He grunted, "Eragon... Eragon is larger now. Follow me. The closest healer is over here, but..." I never heard the end of his sentence, but I didn't need to. The healer was Angela! I, under better circumstances, would have engaged in crazed speak with her, but Eragon and Arya needed help. She huffed, "Why do Riders attract so much unwanted attention? They should use common sense. Another thing on my list to evaluate." I smiled and helped to bring Eragon in, Luanfin taking Arya. I quickly set Eragon down, and saw that a young elf maiden was in the back of the room. Her black hair was strangely tipped by silver, and her face was more rugged than most elves. I didn't dwell on it, but something seemed familiar about her, as if I'd seen her before. But then again, I'd seen many people, the majority of them in the past fifteen years since Galbatorix was toppled the first time.
She rushed forward, and Angela instructed her in a way that made me believe she was Angela's apprentice. I heard a sudden rushing sound outside, and I saw Alater and Quin! They each had a small dragon hatchling in their hands, a silver and a brown, and I was happy to see everyone, dragons and Riders, were alright. The girl from inside rushed out and asked, "May I help? Angela requires no help, but I offer my assistance." Quin nodded, and she calmly walked over to him. Heldrean nudged her softly, and I wondered why, as she was usually more hostile. The girl, who looked around my age, took the silver dragon, and when her hands wrapped around the dragon, she screamed, "Ow! What's going on? Lady Vraela!" Her hand had touched the hatchling's under side, and now, her hand began to glow. I gasped, and when she tried to pull her hand back, I gently held it to the dragon's side. She looked at me, slightly panicked, but I smiled softly to reassure her. I hadn't heard much about bonding with a dragon already hatched, but it was more complicated. She must be feeling these complications.
After the glowed faded slightly, the young dragon rubbed its head on the girl's chest, and she had a bewildered look to her. She asked slowly, "What... Just... Happened?" I smiled and said, "Congratulations. Your a Rider. You now the Rider of Saphira Brightscales' daughter." Her look of confusion soon turned to wonder and excitment. I asked her, "So what is your name?" She stroked the hatchling, and told me, "I am Raweru."