Greetings, Readers! Thanks as always for your reviews and encouragement. Thank you also for giving my story a chance. Please understand that I am updating as fast as I can, but also understand that I will not post a chapter till I feel it is ready for posting.

You readers are far too important for me to take for granted. So I sincerely request you to bear with the time between updates. I will never sink so low as to withhold chapters for reviews, as a reviewer has insinuated.

Any latency is because I am very busy with life in general, or because I am updating my other fics as well. But I must admit that this fic is my first love, so I always treat it with great care.

Thanks for reading, again.

Sincerely,

Karldin.

CHAPTER 15

The forest of the Elves was bathed in a tranquil sunlight, bearing witness to the endless happenings beneath its eaves since times long forgotten. The way to Ellesmera rippled slightly, and in response appeared a tall and noble figure garbed in flowing robes of pure white.

The trees bent in all directions as air was displaced by a small explosion that occurred in the clearing, disturbing the ethereal silence of the forests of Ellesmera. As the air cleared gently, a huge green Dragon became visible as did a comparatively tiny white one sitting demurely upon his larger counterpart. Standing beside the two Dragons was a female elf, a raven haired beauty considered lovely even among elves.

"Gilderien-elda, wisest of us all", greeted Arya, inclining her head respectfully to the ancient guardian of her city. Gilderien the wise merely smiled as his form seemed to radiate a white fire of its own, and his bright eyes surveyed them slowly. Varda and Belgabad were staring at the mythical elf with scarce concealed amazement.

"Arya Drottning, greetings.", said Gilderien in a voice that seemed to seep into the very trees. "I have sensed great unrest, both in the land and in this city of ours. An unnamed shadow walks the land, something that sits at the edge of my memory…but something I cannot quite remember. The Alfakyn must not fail this land, like we did our homeland. We must be kept strong".

Arya's face showed surprise and sadness at Gilderien's warning. "Gilderien-elda, I intend to forsake the throne and join the Riders, my duty here is over. But your warning shall not be forgotten…I shall make sure that my successor is worthy and strong."

Gilderien smiled, and the forest seemed to light up in response. "Every Elf is worthy and strong, Arya Drottning. Their vision is clouded at times and their minds are often agitated despite their cold demeanours, but they adhere still to great ideals. This must not change. The trials that I foresee will not strike at our bodies and minds…it will test our hearts and convictions"

The leaves rustled as an entourage of Elven lords approached to greet their Queen. Arya could see surprise flicker through their faces as they saw Gilderien himself speaking to the Queen. It was not an event that happened often…Gilderien had only spoken to Oromis so freely and even then away from prying eyes.

"Gilderien-elda, your Majesty" greeted Dathedr respectfully, and bowed gracefully to them with his three companions. Gilderien acknowledged him with a small nod as did Arya.

"Dathedr-vodhr. You heard my words, I presume?"

"I did, as did we all. This unrest causes me great disquiet as well, Gilderien-elda. The killing of my friend's mate and child" he laid a hand on Fiolr's shoulder, calming him considerably. "It has pulled forth our warlike nature a mere hundred years after the last great battle. I am afraid a seed of chaos and indecision has been sown amongst the Alfakyn."

"Eragon Shur'tugal has come forth to contain this darkness, Dathedr-vor. We are not without hope" said Arya in her melodious voice. Dathedr acknowledged that fact, but Fiolr's discontent was obvious to them all. Before he could speak Gilderien said:

"Fiolr-vodhr. You must let go of the pain that is clouding your sight. For three millennia have I stood guard over Ellesmera, hundreds of tragedies have I witnessed. Heed my words, and stand with the Queen. Our people must not fail now."

"I…will try, Gilderien-elda", said Fiolr in a low voice as his expression seemed to calm. Gilderien nodded regally and his eyes alighted upon an awestruck Varda. He gazed at her for several seconds, as did the other Elven lords though their expressions were inquisitive. Arya stepped forth with a hand on the young Rider's shoulder.

"This is Varda and her Dragon Belgabad, apprentices of Eragon Kingslayer" she said, and Varda touched her lips to speak the elven greeting. "She has been entrusted to our care as her master is busy dealing with the Urgal situation in the Illirean Kingdom."

"Welcome to Ellesmera, Varda Shur'tugal and Belgabad" said an elf-lord next to Dathedr, his long hair a curious shade of grey. "I am Berentain of the house of Haldthir. May peace live in your heart."

His greeting was echoed by all the present elf-lords, they were staring at the pure white scales of Belgabad with happiness. Belgabad preened self-importantly causing Varda to shoot him a frustrated look. The elves smiled at this interaction, as did Gilderien. With a knowing look in his eye, the venerable guardian spoke to Varda:

"I see that you are still very young, despite the maturity of your mind. Young ones...you will find that our paths shall cross once again in the future. I bid you welcome to our realm, and tell you this: you are more elven than you can imagine" Gilderien said enigmatically. "I wish you good fortune in all your duties. I must depart to mine"

A flickering of the light later, Gilderien had vanished. Varda seemed to be contemplating his words with great concentration, causing Arya to smile.

The young dragon is overeager, Arya. I will meet you at the Crags of Tel'naeir as the sun sets. You can take the Rider with you…I know she is itching to meet Rhunon and Haindar.

I think she will enjoy Ellesmera more than Eragon ever did, she thought fondly as she glanced at the waiting Elven lords. "Let us walk" she said to them and the Lords flanked her and Varda on both sides, watching as Belgabad and Firnen took off into the air silently.

Fiolr spoke first, regret weighing his voice as he said: "My queen, I sincerely apologize for my lack of control during our conference in Tarnag. I have done my house a great disservice along with the nation. I can only plead misery and pain."

As the Lords Dathedr and Berentain looked on approvingly, Arya nodded. "Your apology is accepted, Lord Fiolr. But it is not me you have threatened and berated unnecessarily. To absolve yourself of the unfounded harshness, you must direct this apology to Eragon-elda."

Fiolr's face flickered with emotion, and Arya could sense Varda's tension. She could not decipher why Fiolr seemed so condescending with Eragon…but she did know the ways of her people. Perhaps the elf-lord's opinion was cemented the moment Eragon requested to wield Tamerlein, which was so dear to Fiolr's house. Their walk was slow but easily at a pace that could be called a leisurely run for humans. But Varda kept up quite easily with their pace and caused surprise among the Lords.

"As you wish, Majesty", assented Fiolr, and they walked in silence through the otherworldly trees towards Ellesmera. Varda was looking around the forest with amazement, and Arya smiled at her reactions. She had not really trained anyone else for her duties left her little time for such thing.

"Even Ebrithil's trees are not so…" trailed off Varda silently, as she deviated from the path to lay a hand on a mighty oak that towered high into the canopy. Lord Berentain got an interested gleam in his eye as he questioned Varda:

"Is Aiedail full of trees like ours?"

"Yes", said Varda turning back to Berentain and looking at the interest of all the Lords. "In the beginning, Ebrithil and the Nine sung for seven days and nights to create a forest all around Aiedail. The trees here feel similar to those back there".

"That is understandable" agreed Fiolr, looking at Varda with an evaluating expression. "We Alfakyn carry the essence of our forest wherever we go. Be it a thousand years or centuries that essence will not fade from our being or magic."

The path had gradually given way to a clearing and from there the magnificent and ethereal city of Ellesmera became visible. Varda closed her eyes and opened them, trying to make sure that what she saw really existed. The Lords and Queen were looking at the young Rider's reaction with amused eyes. The first sight of the Elven capital often had such an effect on the beholder.

"It feels…timeless", said Varda with closed eyes and contemplating expression. There was no evidence of childish glee or wonder upon her face as she described Ellesmera. Dathedr looked at the child with open amazement, and then back at Arya.

"I did not realize that seven year old Riders were able to quest with their minds. In the days of antiquity, these arts took even elven Riders at least three years to use. Queen Arya, I believe Eragon-elda has chosen well", he praised and Varda's face was suffused with a blush. Arya continued forward at a stately pace and her people began to reveal themselves and they all bowed to their queen as they went about their businesses.

"I really like elves" said Varda in a certain voice, causing the Alfakyn to look at her with pure wonder and amazement. Arya sighed as the congregation grew in their forest as the Elves communicated by mind to gather in greater number. Soft murmurs ran through the gathering crows as they pointed excitedly at Varda, and one thing was clearly audible to them.

"Elf-child", they said repeatedly and the timeless forests seemed to be alive with the joy of its nurturers. Arya shook her head slightly not wanting to break the misplaced joy of her people…it was far too easy to mistake Varda for an elven child. The gathering grew larger, and simultaneously Firnen landed with a great gust of wind.

Belgabad flew from Firnen's back and landed with a small thud beside Varda. The jubilation of the Elven kind grew considerably as they saw the fact that Varda was in fact a Rider, and they began to sing and dance as they beheld the pure white Dragon. Dathedr and Berentain looked around at the celebrating elves with a sad expression, and Fiolr with a pain that was so heartbreaking that Arya felt compassion rearing in her.

I am sorry, Arya commiserated Firnen through their bond. Your people's jubilation is for naught. Perhaps not entirely, for Varda is a Rider.

Arya raised her hand, and exclaimed: "My people!"

The elves ceased their celebration and focused their attention on their queen. Arya sighed and continued, "My people. The young Rider here is Eragon Shur'tugal's apprentice and is human to my knowledge. I am sorry" she whispered apologetically.

This was how much the Elven race had been affected by the loss of Fiolr's mate and child. Children were so precious in their culture…they could not help but see hope where they wished it would be present. A single tear slid down Arya's face as the elves turned away in misery, dispersing silently and glancing wistfully at Varda.

"Did I do something wrong?" asked Varda in a horrified voice, for the sudden and deep misery in the wondrous tree city had struck her deep. The city was as silent as before, its trees whispering and reflecting the mourning of its denizens.

Belgabad growled at Arya, his eyes demanding answers from the queen. A mighty beat of wings captured their attention and a massive brown Dragon descended rapidly through the skies and alighted smoothly. Firnen let out a greeting roar and was greeted back in kind by the Dragon Fundor. Yaela dismounted easily from her Dragon and turned to face the arriving party. Her face ran through shock, disbelief and finally joy as she saw Varda.

"Yaela!" exclaimed Varda as she ran up to hug the beautiful Rider. Yaela acknowledged the Queen and Lords with a nod even as she gathered up Varda's small form in her arms. The Elves watched with surprised and disapproving eyes at this rather human-like display of emotions.

"We felt it" said Yaela as she soothingly stroked Varda's hair. "We rushed here the moment the forest grew darker than ever with mourning". Arya looked sadly at Varda who had buried her head in Yaela's shoulders. This was not the encounter she had wanted for Varda to have with her people.

"They thought her to be an elven child" said Dathedr, glancing around at the few elves who had stopped to look at the gathering of Riders and nobility. "The pain of losing Damitha and the child is still too fresh in our minds, and we saw what we wished to see", he said softly.

It is not your fault little one, said Fundor, lowering his head to meet Varda's gaze. The young Rider looked at them all with tearful eyes and Yaela squeezed her hand gently. Firnen's voice echoed in their minds:

This was unexpected, and may have unintended consequences for everyone concerned. It might be best if we vacated Tialdari hall for the moment and went to the Crags of Tel'naeir. For now, Varda will only be an image of what has been lost to the elvenkind.

"You speak the truth, Skulblaka" agreed Lord Berentain. "Many words and years will it take for us to come out of mourning and this beautiful and elf-like child will only heighten our loss at this juncture. I regret this greatly for no Rider should enter our city with a heavy heart."

Yaela and Arya exchanged glances, and nodded as one. Dathedr addressed Varda and Belgabad directly.

"Shur'tugal, despite the unnatural reception you have received here…you will be welcome in my house. The Alfakyn will never forget the great deed of your master, and his Riders will also be held in the highest esteem" he said strongly. Berentain concurred as well.

"My house also gladly welcomes you, Varda and Belgabad. My kin are in deep mourning and I ask that you do not judge us by our actions today", he requested sincerely. Varda nodded uncertainly.

"I thank you for your kindness, Elf lords" she said softly. The Dragons and Riders remained as Dathedr and Berentain departed together, talking softly to each other. Yaela ran up Fundor's side with Varda and mounted him easily as did Arya. Belgabad was seated now with Fundor and Yaela, looking mournfully at his Rider.

"The Crags of Tel'naeir?" asked Arya, looking at her fellow Rider. It would be a perfect place to train Varda and her Dragon, and fitting as well. Eragon was trained there a hundred and twenty years ago and it seemed natural that his apprentice must train there as well.

"Indeed", replied Yaela as Fundor took off with a mighty roar. The elves watched with sombre expressions as the three Riders drifted off towards the erstwhile quarters of Osthato Chetowa. Alagaesia was churning unpredictably in the dark, and even the most noble and beautiful race in it felt the lament it brought. It would be long before the tragedy at Tarnag would be forgotten.

Du Weldenvarden resumed its sepulchral silence, ever reflecting the joys and sorrows of its makers.

…..

They stood upon the very summit of Ristvak'baen watching the heavenly sunrise filter through the clouds and light up the plains slowly. Saphira and Sahloknir were flying with a visible joy as the morning light reflected off their shining scales.

Eragon could feel echoes of the Riders' presence in the tower stretching back to the very beginnings. Vrael's sadness would linger in some form despite the cleansing…but it almost felt like a legacy now. The tower reached high into the heavens…and was hewn out of the very peak itself. Utgard had lost its dark gloom, and seemed to be filled with a gentle light that pervaded the entire mountain, reflecting off the bright snows that blanketed it. A forest of shining golden leaves pervaded the entire mountain and its peak, raised forth by their song.

This place will be a haven for us in the dark times to come, came Saphira's voice to their minds. The armies of Urgals are marching already, and I can feel their warlike malice directed against Carvahall. Our involvement is inevitable I am afraid, Eragon.

He turned to the west to see Carvahall spread out along the Anora River, and found himself contrasting it with the old Village he had grown in. His eyes turned a glimmering sapphire as he joined his vision to Saphira's, observing the village in its everyday life. He saw Laetri looking in the same direction with shimmering golden eyes as she joined her vision to Sahloknir's, and involuntarily they sought each other's hands.

Are you ready, Eragon-elda? came Laetri's melodious voice as they joined minds completely. Eragon closed his eyes, and squeezed her hand gently in assurance. Their minds joined together like the confluence of two rivers, and then were joined by the ancient minds of their Dragons.

I am ready Laetri Drottningu, said Eragon serenely as the two Riders gathered their combined mindforce for several moments. Do not stay overlong in my mind. It is dangerous for any except Dragons.

Their mindforce kept on building and Eragon and Laetri seemed to glow with a white sheen. Saphira and Sahloknir began circling around the tower slowly as their Riders prepared to cast their awareness across the entirety of the Kingdom.

"Manin", they said together quietly. The salubrious mountain of Utgard seemed to shimmer outward with the two Riders as the epicentre, and Eragon immersed himself slowly within the infinite life and flow of Alagaesia along with Laetri.

He had first felt this oneness as a young boy in Ellesmera under Oromis' tutelage, he reminisced nostalgically as his and Laetri's combined awareness spread in all directions steadily. Laetri's mind was as elven and otherworldly as ever, but he could hear the lyric tones of the ancient language flowing through her being.

Millions of lifeforms came and went from his attention they quested together throughout Alagaesia. Every man, woman, and child in every city of the Kingdom were in the field of their awareness as they drifted serenely and finely through the pool of infinite minds in search of darkness and disturbance.

I can feel the land changed by Shur'tugal to the south-east, Eragon-elda, said Laetri and he wordlessly directed his presence towards that direction. Six-thousand blazing life-forms became apparent to his mind, and he concentrated slightly.

I have been identified. Their magicians are skilled, observed Eragon as he increased his oneness with Laetri's mind. This is the army that will garrison within the city of Teirm. Palencar has made his move.

He could feel anxiety and fear from the magicians who guarded the minds of the army, and felt their minds coalescing together in response to him. Eragon and Laetri silently quested for Leya's presence, ignoring the steady gathering of minds.

Leya? said Eragon, finding the mind of Leya and Ragnar a distance from their army. Where are you situated presently?

Atra esterni ono thelduin, Eragon-elda, Laetri-elda, said Leya with a tone of surprised respect. Ragnar acknowledged them with the same greeting, and Eragon felt the gathering of minds dissipate with evident relief as Leya disabused them of notions of him being a threat.

I apologize for them, Eragon-elda. Your mind is beyond their understanding. We are within sight of Leona lake and we will strike due north in a matter of hours, her voice said.

Conceal yourself better, Leya. And do not send your consciousnesses towards the Urgals…the forest seems to be walled off by reasonably strong wards. We do not want to alarm them prematurely, warned Eragon. Laetri began searching to the east slowly towards Illirea and Gilead, stopping only until she encountered the wards of Du Weldenvarden.

I must go, Eragon-elda, said Leya apologetically. The generals are asking for me.

Go, Leya, said Eragon calmly and went back to his questing. For over several minutes, he searched Alagaesia at the speed of thought with Laetri. I can feel no trace of Shade presence, Laetri. We have to assume the worst.

I felt nothing either, Eragon-elda, admitted Laetri and they simultaneously retracted their awareness back to their bodies. Eragon opened his eyes slowly and turned to Laetri. Their search had yielded far more questions than answers. They silently observed the timeless mountain of Utgard as they considered further action.

"Eragon-elda, I fear that the Shade is up to some new scheme. He moves in ways I cannot predict and is instigating unrest in Alagaesia unpredictably. Ismira was not visible to us either", said Laetri in a concerned tone.

Eragon sighed. "There are two conclusions I can draw, Laetri, the likelier of them being that they are within the Spine and are behind those wards. I do not think Ismira is skilled enough to throw off my mind", he concluded. Laetri remained quiet for a few moments as they both returned to their thoughts.

The morning sunlight broke the cover of clouds, revealing to them the horizon in a spectacular display of natural beauty. Laetri gasped softly as she saw the sky alight at such proximity and laid her head on Eragon's shoulder. Eragon instinctively enfolded her to him with his right arm as they took in the beautiful sight together.

"Even in Aiedail I have not seen such beauty often", said Laetri reverently as she saw from the summit of Ristvak'baen the entire landscape being lit by the sun. "I must make a Fairth of this moment."

"I agree", said Eragon softly. He shared this trait with the elves very much, this fascination with the delights of nature. Then he smiled as he set eyes upon Laetri's silver tresses that were shining in the light of the morn.

"What I said to Saleria in my youth is more suitable here, Laetri", he said with appreciation as he gently ran his hand through her long silver hair. Laetri laughed lightly as she put an arm about his waist, and turned her face to meet his eyes.

"Thank you for seeing the blessed lands through my eyes, Eragon-elda…or does my hair shine like the strands of heaven's light?" she asked him with a hint of playfulness in her eyes. Eragon's smile widened.

"Both, Laetri Drottningu, both", he confessed, and they shared a short laugh together. They stood at each other's side, with arms around each other as the sun rose as it always did.

"This morning feels special, Laetri. I have a feeling about this place I have not had anywhere else. I feel a strange sense of…" trailed off Eragon, searching for a suitable word. Laetri nodded slightly against his shoulder, looking at him with understanding eyes.

"I feel it too. It feels like home, does it not?" she asked gently. Eragon held her tighter and sampled the magics they had cast…and felt the veracity of Laetri's statement. The entire mountain and their tower seemed to echo his emotions, seemed filled with a kind of timeless joy and watchfulness.

Eragon turned to the Rider he held by her shoulders, his eyes showing the depth of his emotions. "I am glad you are by my side, Laetri. I have no doubt it feels like home because you are with me here and now. Thank you."

Laetri's bright blue eyes widened for a moment and filled with an emotion Eragon felt she reserved for him and him alone. He dared not to label their fathomless bond, her companionship was more precious to him than he could begin to express.

"You must not thank me, Eragon-elda", she said and her pale cheeks tinged with a faint pink as she continued, "this place feels like home to me, but I too think it is only because of you. I do not know why but even memories of my torment here at Formora's hands does not haunt me as it once used to."

Sahloknir's deep growl resounded through the mountain and bottomless sorrow filled Eragon at her admission. Galbatorix and his cursed Forsworn had destroyed much. Upon this very tower Formora had tormented Laetri to the edges of her sanity.

"But still it haunts you", said Eragon in a sorrowful voice. "I have failed again, it seems. My strength and skill are useless if I cannot heal my Riders with it. I had thought that the Blessing of Telperion would help heal your trauma, but I failed once more."

"Some memories are a part of the soul, Eragon-elda. You have loved Arya Drottning so much that even after tearing out every emotion you had for her, echoes of it still haunt you. It is the same with me, I am afraid", she said distantly.

Stop darkening this morning with your brooding, Eragon, chided Saphira gently as she and Sahloknir made towards the summit of the tower, which was large enough to have accommodated Umaroth and Glaedr together. Cherish this moment for what it is, an unforgettable piece of life with Laetri and us. There will be time for brooding when the drums of war beat in the Spine.

Eragon chuckled at his Dragon's statements, and slowly let go of Laetri as he heard Roran's footsteps heavy upon the stairs. As Roran emerged out on the top of the tower, Saphira and Sahloknir landed with a graceful thud. Roran examined the two dragons standing like massive monoliths against the bright blue sky, and tilted his head as he looked at Saphira.

"Saphira, if those elves were here, they would take much longer to compose verse about you than any other Dragon. Do you know why?", he asked innocently. Eragon frantically signalled to Roran to stop his words, and Laetri watched curiously as did Sahloknir.

Why?

"Because you are far larger than any other Dragon. You are so vast that-"

A mighty roar shook the tower violently as Saphira expressed her outrage, and Sahloknir discreetly stepped away from the enraged Dragon. Eragon watched his Dragon resignedly as she lowered her snout slowly to stare at a gulping Roran with brilliant blue eyes each the size of a large shield.

Are you calling me fat?, she asked menacingly and the tower shook once more with her anger. Roran shook his head as he backpedaled prudently and Eragon chose the moment to pacify his Saphira.

"Beloved, he is simply rambling. You are nothing less than the most beautiful Dragon ever born on Alagaesia. No dragon can ever compete with you-"

Enough with your flattery, Eragon, said Saphira in a miffed voice, though her emotions exuded a pleased vibe. She whipped her snout back to Roran. You will pay for your insinuation Roran. The next time you ride with me, I will have to show you a few manoeuvres me and Eragon have developed recently. I am sure you will enjoy it.

Roran gulped and nodded fearfully. Eragon stared at him, noting the vitality and youth of his face. Satisfaction filled him as he observed his now rejuvenated cousin…his spell had worked in more than one way.

Roran joined them in their watching of the enormous landscape visible from their high position, enjoying the ethereal view. They stood tranquilly, letting the calmness and silence soothe them for a time.

"It is time, Eragon-elda", said Laetri eventually. Eragon nodded, glancing wistfully at the paradise they had created upon Utgard. Home, he thought wistfully as the image of the Fairth of Laetri and Arya floated to his mind…and an image of them and their dragons flying free of cares around Utgard.

Eragon, I and Sahloknir will stay here. Carvahall cannot house us and it will create alarm among the Urgals if we are seen flying so close to Carvahall. Be careful.

Ebrithil, we will stay in constant mind contact with you at all times, assured Sahloknir as he sensed Eragon's concerns. Eragon nodded, and held out his hands for Roran and Laetri to grasp.

Be careful, Saphira and Sahloknir. We will return at the earliest.

With a great flash of light the three disappeared from the summit of Ristvak'baen, leaving the two Dragons of sapphire and gold to stand still and majestic among motes of floating light.

…

"Lord Baron!" came the frantic voice of a Page, and Baron Holcomb was forced to look away from the battle plans he was constructing. The Baron was a grey haired man of fifty, having seen more than his share of war and slaughter.

"Come in", he said gruffly, and the Page allowed himself into the sparsely appointed study of the Baron of Carvahall. Holcomb was not interested in the usual frippery of the gentry and had taken great pains to keep his quarters simple and utilitarian.

It simple consisted of a few racks of documents and a couple tables of wood, and of course magic to ensure silence and quiet in its private halls. Holcomb looked up as the page stood before him, hastily trying to gather his breath. He sighed, resigning himself to news of another Urgal incursion.

Blast those Urgals, he thought angrily. Why do they always have to be so difficult to deal with?

"Lord Baron", said the Page breathlessly. "The sentry has held at the gates three strangers, my lord. They wear hooded cloaks of elven make and have deigned to identify themselves only in your presence. The city guard requests your decision as to their admittance!"

Holcomb's face showed his interest at the news…it was not often he received visitors of the elvenkind. Perhaps Queen Arya had not forgotten them after all, for it seemed King Palencar certainly had. His pleas for reinforcement had gone unheeded and if the Urgals attacked with full force, then Carvahall would fall.

"I will meet with them", he said firmly. "But watch them carefully. The times are dangerous here in Carvahall and we must not let our guard down. I will receive them here in my study."

The Page bowed deeply, and hurried out of the study. "Brisingr", said Holcomb quietly and the torches burned bright, lifting the study out of its dimly lit state. It would take time for the guests to arrive within his keep, and he relaxed on his chair and sighed.

He was wearying of the constant war with the Urgals, and his people could see it in his bearing. He was the last of the line of Stronghammer, the line that had kept the village strong and prosperous. Leanna, the love of his life was taken from him twenty years ago and his parents had died about a year ago. Palencar was a good friend and great support to the people but he was far away in Illirea.

Every winter, my people lose hope, he thought sadly. Palencar does his best but the politics in Illirea are far too involved for him to truly help. Of what use is the three race concordat if we do not help the others in times of need?

His brooding thoughts were cut short as the doors to his study opened once more to allow three tall and hooded figures. Holcomb waved the guards away as he could see no intent to harm in their bearings…Du Weldenvarden's essence was very familiar to him, after all.

"I was told that you wished to meet with me?" he asked them abruptly. As one, the three figures lowered their hoods to reveal themselves. Holcomb gasped loudly at the sight, and soldiers immediately rushed into the study with weapons held aloft.

"At ease", he snapped as he took in the forms of his guests with disbelieving eyes. One of them was familiar to him from his childhood, so familiar that his face brought tears to Holcomb's eyes. In a great rush the dam that held back his emotions broke, and he whispered:

"Grandfather?"

The soldiers sheathed their weapons immediately and looked at the legendary hero returned to them after so long. Roran Stronghammer observed his grandson staring at him with deep emotion.

"Good to see you, Holcomb. I see you have not been keeping well", he laughed through his tears. Holcomb stepped forward and grabbed him in a bear hug and Roran hugged back as tightly. The last he had seen his grandson was when he was a babe of three years, and he cursed himself for forsaking his family for so long.

"Grandfather, I thought you had died", said Holcomb in a voice full of a disbelieving joy as he stepped out of the hug. The keep's soldiers were wiping their eyes at the joyful reunion of their leaders, and Holcomb waved them away once more and locked the door with magic.

"I don't die so easily, boy", growled Roran, and Holcomb was struck by how young and free Roran seemed. He remembered his grandfather as a man with a great sorrow pressing upon him, even though he tried not to show it. He shoved away his cares and concerns as he immersed himself in the happiness of his Grandfather's return.

"Whose son is he?" came the musical voice of Roran's companion, and Holcomb turned to the two most noble and wise elves he had ever seen.

The woman was undoubtedly elven, and seemed to glow from within as if magic itself was one with her. She wore a simple garb of white, held at her waist by a silver girdle of stunning make. Ornaments of an unknown crystal dangled from her ears and shone with silver light; Her hair flowed down to her slim waist in waves of silvery-white and her face was lovelier than words could say.

Yet she carried herself with a dignity and wisdom that could only be the consequence of years of experience, and he knew immediately that she was an elf who was older than most. But her beauty shone all the more for it, and Palencar could feel his mouth going dry with desire, for her form was as perfect and alluring as desire itself.

But he saw her hand being held by her companion, and Holcomb felt an unbidden reverence rise within him as he saw the tall and sagely profile. Her companion also wore a pristine white robe with no adornments, and he sported a mane of silver hair that fell down to his shoulders.

He was as handsome as the woman was beautiful, and in his indigo eyes shone a strength and wisdom he had seen once on the face of Gilderien the wise. Holcomb's eyes drifted to the weapon belted to the elf' side, and he felt an overpowering rush as he saw the Liduen Kvaedhi inscribed on its Sapphire sheath.

Brisingr.

"It cannot be" he whispered as he knelt down involuntarily in the presence of the mythical Rider. "It cannot be. After all these years…"

The soldiers were on alert once more as they gripped their swords tightly, but Holcomb glanced at Roran who was nodded at him affirmatively. The Baron bowed his head as overpowering joy and hope flooded through his being;

"Eragon Kingslayer", he whispered in a voice brimming with utter amazement. The soldiers knelt down as one, following their baron as they stared at their smiling guest with wide eyes. "You have come home at last", he said softly as he bowed his head to the legendary Rider.

"Rise, Baron Holcomb", said Eragon firmly. "I am your grand-uncle after all. Please do not bow to me…in the days of yore, Carvahall did not thrive on such formalities. It makes me uncomfortable when family insists on such protocol. Call me Eragon."

Holcomb got up hurriedly and he could not keep his eyes off his newly introduced guests.

"Who is your companion, Eragon?" he asked in a dazed voice, absorbing just who stood before him. Eragon smiled.

"This is Laetri, my companion of a hundred and a score years and Rider of Sahloknir. She was with me from the times of the war as a member of my original elven guard of twelve", said Eragon, and Holcomb bowed deeply to the Lady.

"You are most welcome here, Laetri svit-kona", he murmured respectfully. Then he glanced at his soldiers who did not seem to know what to do.

"Arrange for a great feast. This is a time of hope and joy…my family has returned to me at last!" declared Holcomb with a fierce exultation in his heart. "Please, seat yourself", he said to the guests as he pulled up a chair.

Eragon held out a chair for Laetri, who sat with a nod of thanks and then seated himself gracefully. Roran sat down heavily on his chair and looked at Holcomb:

"How is Helga?"

"She died, Grandfather", said Holcomb sorrowfully. "Mother was already tired of this world after father's and Leanna's death. She held on long enough for my sake and passed away last winter. Uncle Geran and Uncle Helidan died five years ago when an Urgal party raided their retinue", he finished in a weary voice.

Roran wiped his tears with cuff of his sleeve, and Laetri held Eragon's hand tightly as even the Kingslayer wept for the niece and nephew he would never know. Then anger filled him suddenly as he considered the misfortune his niece had been put through.

"I am the last of your line, Grandfather. I am sorry", said Holcomb in a resigned voice.

"No", said Eragon in a certain voice as his tears dried. "No, my boy. You are not the last. I am still here as is Roran. And Ismira is still alive", he said in a sad voice.

"What?" exclaimed Holcomb. "Aunt Ismira is still alive?" he shouted in a surprised voice, and Roran's face filled with grief before he controlled himself.

"She is. But she is under the control of a Shade", he informed his grandson. Holcomb's face fell at this news but Eragon cut in.

"I will bring her back, Holcomb", he said in a voice of steel. "The Shade will die by my sword, this I swear to you", he said in the ancient language. Holcomb nodded with wide eyes at this declaration, seeming to slump in relief.

"This is too much to digest at once, Grandfather", he complained to Roran who grinned.

"I know", he said simply. "But me and Eragon, we rescued your grandmother from the Ra'zac all those years ago. I have faith that we can get back my daughter from that foul Shade's influence, do not fear."

"I wish I could join you", sighed the Baron. "But Carvahall is on the brink of siege by the Urgals. I have sent missives to Palencar by the dozen but he simply says reinforcements are on their way. I have watchers for leagues away from here, but they reported nothing."

Eragon and Laetri glanced at each other, and Laetri stated, "Baron, your reinforcements are in truth here."

Holcomb looked at her doubtfully. "My Lady, I would not doubt your word, but I have kept watch long and hard for any army. The plains are empty as ever, and as menacing as ever. I have heard no whisper of any army."

"You do not listen, boy", interrupted Roran gruffly. "Laetri svit-kona just told you. Eragon and she are here, and they will not let any army of Urgals sack Carvahall. I swear, you are just like Helga was, always jumping around eagerly with no regard to listening."

"I don't think you understand", said the Baron quietly. "The Urgals came at us in force twice in the past, and both times we needed Palencar's armies to supplement ours. They will send at least seven thousand Kull pouring through the spine and we cannot hold them all back without a real army. Forgive me, Eragon, my Lady…but I do not think even you can hold back such reckless hate", he finished with a hint of scepticism.

"You have your doubts, it is understandable", began Eragon amiably. "But I ask that you have faith in my abilities. For more than one hundred years I have delved deep into the mysteries of magic and the intricacies of swordsmanship, and I have long studied the workings of the world and history. We can help to hold Carvahall, Holcomb, if you let us."

Holcomb still looked doubtful. "I cannot base my people's lives off an uncertainty, Eragon, you must understand that. You are undoubtedly powerful; you have to be in order to have killed the Dark King. But…"

Eragon sighed. "Very well. I know you can use magic, so look into our minds and decide for yourself. But be careful", he warned. Holcomb nodded and extended a tendril of awareness to Eragon's open mind and blanched.

Are you convinced, Baron Holcomb?, a rich and clearly female voice resounded in his mind. Saphira?, he asked curiously.

Yes. I know you are honoured to meet me, she said impatiently and Eragon and Laetri chuckled. Are you convinced of my Rider's strength?, she repeated.

Holcomb only nodded dumbly…there was no way he could not be. He had touched the Menoa Tree's sleeping mind once and once only, and he could see no end to the depth and vastness of her mind. To this day, he had believed that no one could compare to her…but now, his belief was broken.

Eragon Shadeslayer's mind was just as deep and unfathomable, filled with strains and melodies he could not begin to grasp. One glimpse at it had him almost fainting, so he had retracted immediately. He felt like an ant trying to conceptualize the vastness of an ocean as he tried to shake off the aftereffects of glimpsing its fey depths.

"Are you really only a Rider?", he asked Eragon weakly. Eragon remained silent at the query, but Laetri answered quietly for him.

"He is much, much more than just a Rider, Baron. He passed beyond the definition of Rider, human and Elf a long time ago", she stated sadly. Eragon clasped his hands solemnly and looked at the slumped Baron.

"We will keep watch from Utgard Mountain, from the tower of Ristvak'baen. Carvahall is clearly visible from there, Holcomb. When the Urgals come, we will be there to drive them back", he assured the Baron firmly.

"We will leave you both to talk", he said to Roran. "Ristvak'baen must be warded once more, and we both must attend to it as soon as possible. We will return to discuss the current war in a few hours, Roran."

"As you wish", said Roran, looking through the window at Carvahall with a nostalgic look upon his face. Holcomb suddenly looked at Eragon with an understanding expression.

"You caused that light upon Utgard, didn't you? I was about to send a detachment of my men to the mountain today, the magic was so potent", he reminisced. Eragon smiled mysteriously.

"It was us, yes", he said and took Laetri's hand. "You will understand if you visit there, Holcomb. We will be back tonight", he stated and disappeared with Laetri in a blast of Indigo light. The dazed Baron looked around at his returned Grandfather.

"Shall we?"

…