As the first light of dawn filtered through the dragon hold, Eragon, Arya, Roran, and Haroldun met in the common room between the Rider's quarters. The morning air was crisp, and the soft glow of sunrise gave the moment a serene calmness. Saphira and Firnen waited patiently, their massive forms illuminated by the growing light, while Dorzada—Haroldun's young, stone-colored dragon—stood a little apart, eyeing the two older dragons with curiosity and excitement. This would be his first long flight.
Eragon stood with his hand on Saphira's leg, quietly speaking to her through their bond and scratching her under the chin. She hummed in response, a sound of both comfort and readiness. Firnen, ever watchful, padded over to Dorzada, sniffing at the young dragon. His calm demeanor helped put Dorzada at ease, who tentatively puffed out his chest, mimicking the larger dragon's regal stance.
Saphira lowered her head toward Dorzada, offering him a welcoming nudge. The young dragon gave a playful rumble, tapping his tail on the stone floor.
Arya observed the dragons' interaction, her mind at ease for the first time in days. "Firnen will guide him," she said softly to Haroldun. "He'll teach Dorzada everything he needs to know, and you can ride with Eragon on Saphira."
Roran, adjusting the straps of his travel bag, chuckled. "It's been a long time since I've ridden. Would you help me up Firnen?"
Eragon smirked, but his attention turned to Haroldun. "Are you ready for this?" he asked.
Haroldun, looking both nervous and excited, glanced up at Dorzada, who gave a reassuring nod. "Aye," he said with determination. "Saphira?"
Saphira and Firnen bent down, allowing Haroldun and Roran to climb atop their backs. Haroldun, still new to this routine, fumbled slightly as he clambered onto Dorzada's back, but with a little guidance from Eragon, he managed to situate himself. Arya and Eragon followed with ease.
As they prepared for takeoff, the dragons spread their wings, the wind from their powerful movements sending dust swirling around them.
"Let's go," Eragon called, his voice steady. "To Ellesmera!"
With that, Saphira launched into the sky, followed by Firnen and Dorzada. The three dragons flew in perfect formation and Firnen was sure to remind Dorzada to pace himself. It was a long journey for one so young.
As Saphira soared into the sky, Haroldun clung to the saddle behind Eragon, his heart racing as they ascended. The ground disappeared rapidly beneath them, and the sheer vastness of Alagaësia from above left him breathless.
"This... is unbelievable!" Haroldun exclaimed, gripping tightly as the wind rushed past.
Eragon chuckled through their mind link. "You'll get used to it. Just remember to trust Saphira—and Dorzada."
Dorzada, still too small to carry Haroldun, flapped furiously behind them. He was determined to keep pace with the larger dragons, but his smaller wings forced him to beat faster, and it was clear that the journey was taxing him about an hour into the flight. The young dragon growled with determination, trying to mimic Saphira's graceful gliding, though he occasionally faltered.
Arya, riding Firnen beside them, looked back at Dorzada. "He's doing well for his size," she commented. "But we should stop soon."
Eragon nodded. "The oasis isn't far. We'll land there for Dorzada to rest."
Haroldun peered over Saphira's side at the shimmering spot of water below, relief flooding through him. As exhilarating as the flight was, his body was beginning to feel the strain of holding on, and he could sense Dorzada's exhaustion through their bond.
When they finally descended, Saphira's landing was as smooth as ever, but Dorzada stumbled into the sand, panting from the effort. Haroldun slid off Saphira's back with shaky legs, though his excitement hadn't dimmed. He hurried to Dorzada, who gave a playful, if tired, snort of sand as if to show he was fine despite his exhaustion.
"You did great," Haroldun whispered, patting his dragon's side.
Eragon smiled at the young rider's enthusiasm. "Dorzada's already shown a lot of promise. He'll be flying as gracefully as Firnen or Saphira in no time."
As the group settled around the oasis, letting the dragons rest and regain their strength, Haroldun's eyes still sparkled with the wonder of his first true flight, and Dorzada, despite his fatigue, seemed just as eager for the next stretch of the journey.
After landing at the oasis and letting Dorzada rest, Roran, always eager for a bit of fun, stretched his arms and turned to Haroldun with a mischievous grin.
"Well now, Haroldun, you've got the look of a Rider but do you have the moves of one?" Roran teased, feigning a challenge. "How about a duel, just for practice? I could use some movement after all that sitting."
Haroldun raised an eyebrow, momentarily startled by Roran's playful challenge.
"A duel?" he repeated, glancing toward Eragon for guidance.
Eragon smirked, leaning against Saphira. "It's a good idea. Now's the time to start working on your combat skills. You'll need them as a Rider."
Arya chimed in with an approving nod. "It's not only about flying. You must be strong on the ground as well."
Dorzada rumbled in what seemed like agreement, still recovering from his flight but clearly enjoying the interaction.
Roran clapped Haroldun on the back, urging him forward. "Come on then, let's see what you've got!"
With Eragon overseeing, the training session began, as both Roran and Haroldun prepared for a friendly sparring match in the warm desert sun.
The oasis in the Hadarac Desert provided a stunning backdrop for the day's sparring session. Eragon, committed to shaping both Haroldun and Roran into the best versions of themselves, watched as the two squared off, the scorching desert heat bearing down on them.
Haroldun, a dwarf not yet fully comfortable with his Rider abilities, swung his axe with precision, but Roran's strength and experience made him an equally formidable opponent. Despite his size, Haroldun moved with surprising agility, forcing Roran to adopt a defensive stance as they circled one another, their movements slow but deliberate.
"Good, Haroldun," Eragon called from the sidelines, his gaze intense. "But you're too reliant on your dwarven instincts. Remember, you have Dorzada now—you're a Rider. Stop thinking only in terms of strength and think about how you can use your connection with Dorzada to anticipate attacks."
Haroldun frowned, his frustration clear. "It's not that simple, Ebrithil. I still feel like a dwarf more than a Rider."
"That's the point of this training," Eragon said firmly. "You're both. Don't lose what makes you a dwarf, but you need to embrace the magic within you now."
With renewed focus, Haroldun lunged forward, aiming for Roran's midsection, but Roran was quick, sidestepping and landing a solid strike on Haroldun's arm. Haroldun winced but recovered quickly.
"Too predictable," Roran said, though there was no malice in his voice. "You're getting faster, but you need to be more fluid."
Eragon nodded his agreement. "You're both improving. Haroldun, use the fluidity of a Rider with the power of a dwarf. Blend them."
After a few more exchanges, Eragon stepped in, calling the match to an end. Haroldun, though tired, wore a look of determination. "You're doing well," Eragon said, his voice softer now, "but you need to let go of the idea that you're just a dwarf. Trust yourself."
Eragon then turned to Arya, gesturing for her to join him in the makeshift ring. "Now, I want to demonstrate something," he said. "Arya and I sparred last time we were in Ellesmera, and while it was close, I won."
A flicker of challenge passed through Arya's eyes as she took her place across from him, drawing her slender sword with practiced ease. "You caught me in a moment of great introspection," she said, a hint of amusement in her tone.
Eragon chuckled, drawing his own blade. "Perhaps. But today, I'll show you all how I did it."
They began slowly, circling each other. Eragon explained his movements aloud for Haroldun and Roran's benefit. "Arya's faster, more agile. As a human, I have strength, but to beat her, I had to anticipate, predict her next moves I had to wait till she tired to strike."
He moved in, delivering a series of quick strikes that Arya deflected with grace. "I used her own speed against her," Eragon said, slipping past Arya's defense and landing a soft strike on her side. "It's all about pattern recognition," he said while parrying another one of Arya's strikes.
Arya smiled slightly, her eyes narrowing. "But you won't catch me with that again," she said before launching into a flurry of attacks, forcing Eragon to retreat and defend.
Even as the match heated up, Eragon's voice remained calm, explaining his thoughts. "You have to stay flexible. The key to winning is understanding your opponent, not just physically but mentally. That's why Riders can't rely on physical strength alone. Oftentimes mental strength is more important."
He was careful to fight her without opening himself up to the sun's energy. Even without it, the fight was weighted in his favor. He had done nothing but train riders for the past decade after Arngor was mostly built. His body was in peak condition, and he was much taller now, creating a bit of a height advantage over Arya that he hadn't been blessed with in the one final swift movement, Eragon ducked under Arya's blade, pivoted, and brought his sword to her throat in a mock finishing move.
"And that's how," he said, a hint of pride in his voice.
Arya inclined her head, acknowledging the demonstration with good humor.
"Learn from this, Haroldun. Be more than just a fighter. Think, anticipate, and let your instincts as a Rider guide you."
With the session over, the group continued on for a most of the day. Eragon and the Eldunari took turns fueling Dorzada until finally making camp for the night when no amount of shared energy would have kept the small dragon's muscles going. Eragon spent the rest of the night showing Haroldun how to mentally merge with Dorzada until he saw everything his partner-of-heart and mind did.
"Wow your vision is so unique," Haroldun said to Dorzada as he viewed the world from his perspective.
"Hard to see far," Dorzada replied wearily in response to Haroldun's own vision. "Tired."
"I think that's the most you've spoken since you hatched!" Haroldun said excitedly. "Here, I'll get you some water."
Haroldun scrunched up his face in concentration, trying desperately to get his magic to reach the tiny droplets of moisture in the sand until he sensed a great pool of water. He willed it upwards until a small pool formed. Dorzada began to lap it up. Haroldun's preliminary training under Alec had progressed farther than Eragon's had in his few weeks with Brom, but he was far from able to maintain magic like that for long.
Haroldun scrunched up his face in concentration, trying desperately to get his magic to reach the tiny droplets of moisture in the sand until he sensed a great pool of water. He willed it upwards until a small pool formed. Dorzada began to lap it up eagerly, and Haroldun finally collapsed from exhaustion. Eragon caught him with magic before he could hit his head and transferred some of his own energy to the young dwarf. As he regained consciousness, Eragon took the time to remind him that his energy was finite. He would need to train for years before he would fully understand his limits though.
Eragon wished Roran and Haroldun goodnight and went to lay down in the tent he shared with Arya. She followed him not long after, and they lay curled up together, quickly falling into their shared waking dream. Their thoughts merged seamlessly, and Arya's mind began to direct their focus to a memory from her youth.
They found themselves in Du Weldenvarden, a lush, sunlit glade surrounded by towering trees. Young Arya, perhaps no more than a decade old, was running through the woods with childlike joy, her feet barely touching the moss-covered ground. Her mother, Islanzadí, stood nearby, watching with a serene expression, her usual strict demeanor softened.
"Arya," Islanzadí's voice called out, firm yet loving. "Come here, child."
Young Arya halted her play and walked over to her mother, curiosity in her eyes. Islanzadí knelt to meet her daughter's gaze, brushing a lock of hair from Arya's face.
"One day, you may bear the weight of our people on your shoulders," she said. "You must learn that duty is not a burden to be feared but a gift to be honored."
Present-day Arya, watching the memory, felt a deep pang of emotion as her younger self looked up at her mother with a mixture of awe and apprehension. In the dream, the older Arya could feel Islanzadí's words resonating through time, shaping her into the woman she had become.
"Why must I carry this weight, Mother?" young Arya asked in a voice filled with innocence.
Islanzadí's eyes softened further. "Because you are strong, and your heart is pure. You will not fail, Arya, for you will not be alone. We never walk our paths alone."
The present Arya felt tears prick her eyes. Her mother had been a complex figure, a source of both love and duty, and this memory reminded her of how deeply that duality had affected her life. She had spent years under the pressure of being a queen, her choices weighed heavily by tradition and expectation. But now, she felt something shift inside her as the dream continued.
The memory faded, and she and Eragon were left standing together in the clearing, the weight of the dream pressing on them both. Arya turned to Eragon, her face serene yet reflective.
"I've always thought of duty as something inescapable," Arya said softly. "But now... perhaps it's time to see it as something I can let go of, as a gift I can pass on."
Eragon nodded, his eyes understanding. "You've done more than enough for your people, Arya. It's time to live for yourself a bit. Your role is changing, but your duty to the riders isn't any less important. With the council forming, you still get to respresent your people in a different way."
A breeze rustled through the trees, and Arya felt a deep sense of closure settle over her. It was as if her mother's voice had reached out to her from the past, giving her permission to step away from the throne and embrace what comes next.
As the dream faded, Arya woke with a renewed sense of purpose. The weight of her royal duties no longer felt like a chain, but rather, a legacy she was ready to pass on. She glanced at Eragon beside her, and in that quiet moment, she knew she was making the right decision.
