As he walked to the clearing where Oromis stood, the elven king's composure wavered. His eyes widened, and his usual regal bearing faltered as he took in the sight before him. For a moment, he seemed paralyzed with confusion, his gaze fixed on Oromis, who stood as healthy and strong as the legends described, not the frail figure from his memory.

"This is impossible..." Dathedr murmured, his voice barely audible, as if afraid speaking too loudly would shatter the vision before him. He took another step forward, awe mixing with disbelief. "You... you were gone."

Oromis smiled gently, stepping toward him. "I was, and yet I stand before you, in the flesh. Magic, King Dathedr, can reach places we've long forgotten."

Dathedr blinked, searching for words, but only silence filled the air as the reality of what he was witnessing took root. His hand twitched as if he wanted to reach out and ensure Oromis was real, but he hesitated. "But how?" he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of wonder and caution.

Eragon, standing beside Arya, interjected softly. "Not all magic can be understood at once, Your Majesty. Some things require time... and trust. This is one of those instances."

Dathedr's gaze remained locked on Oromis, his mind spinning as he tried to comprehend what had happened. For a long moment, all he could do was stare, caught between awe, shock, and the slow realization that the impossible had indeed come to pass.

"This could prove an issue," Dathedr began. "I am pleased to have you here with us again, and to be whole as well, but where does this leave us? Who is the Lead Rider now? How will this affect the Rider Council's formation? How can we explain your return to my people?"

It was a question Eragon had also asked himself, but he had yet to pose it. He didn't feel his master owed the Riders a second lifetime, but he also knew that he still needed guidance. Would Oromis want to rejoin the order at all? If so, would he want to lead it? Could Oromis lead from here? Eragon's responsibilities had long weighed on him, but he wasn't one to give up or back down from a challenge. This new age had been entrusted to him by the dragons. Ultimately, it was their wisdom he bowed to. Still, he was curious to see what Oromis said on the matter.

Oromis, with his usual calm and wisdom, simply smiled, recognizing the delicate balance. "Eragon is the Lead Rider, but the future of the Riders will require many hands, many minds. Leadership will emerge where it is needed most. For now though, this magic has tied me to the Crags. Glaedr and I will of course assist in whatever way possible, but that fact alone will hinder my usefulness. As for informing the people, I believe we should wait. I am in no danger of being sensed here as I have my full capabilities now, and while elves are not superstitious like humans, they do not meddle in the spirit world lightly."

"I see," Dathedr said. "And how did this magic occur? Is it possible to replicate?"

This was the question Eragon had hoped to avoid, but Dathedr had always been shrewd. His ability to find the crux of an issue was innate.

"This is a Rider secret even I am not yet privy to," Arya stated. "If Eragon will not even share it with me, he will not share it with you either."

Eragon gave a nod to affirm her statement. "I cannot share with you how, but the magic itself was very similar to my battle with Galbatorix. It was wordless and built only on want and will. Because of this, we do not understand the limitations, and the dangers of using this magic are exponential. I didn't even understand what I was doing and the magic very nearly drained me. Much like the magic of dragons, I was wielding it, but it wasn't planned. Even if I could repeat it, I would not," Eragon finished with sincerity.

Dathedr took a moment to compose his thoughts.

"The Council needs to be informed," he said at last. "I understand the need to keep it from the larger populace, but if I don't get ahead of this, it will put me at a disadvantage."

Eragon sighed. "They will have the same questions, and I will not be able to answer them. This peace is delicate and built on balance. Right now, things are out of sync. Give me time to recalibrate. I need to find a way to ensure this growing power is not a threat for the future. I referred to this vaguely upon my arrival, but my goal is to find a way to bind both myself and the new Rider Council to a magical writ. It will be an oath we take bound in stone to prevent the misuse of this power. The writ can only be changed by 2/3 majority of all the Riders, ensuring peace far beyond my lifetime."

Dathedr's gaze flickered with thoughtfulness, considering Eragon's proposal. The idea of binding the Riders to a magical writ intrigued him. After a pause, he nodded slowly.

"Such an oath may be what we need to preserve the future stability of Alagaësia. The Council will want assurances, and the people must continue to believe in the strength of our unity. I will allow time for you to prepare this proposal. But do not delay too long—unanswered questions will breed suspicion."

Eragon inclined his head in understanding. "I will begin work immediately."

Just as Dathedr nodded in agreement to Eragon's plan, a familiar voice interrupted, light and playful. "Oh, how delightful, binding oneself to stones and oaths. It sounds terribly tedious, but if you insist, I suppose I can help make sure those stones don't crumble."

Angela emerged from the shadows, her wild hair catching the moonlight, her eyes gleaming with amusement.

Dathedr stiffened, his face impassive, but Eragon could sense the discomfort behind it. "Angela," Dathedr said cautiously, as if her knowing was more dangerous than the magic itself. "I'm not sure what you think you know."

Angela laughed, her voice melodic and knowing. "Oh, King Dathedr, I know more than you'd like. But fear not, I have no interest in unraveling your secrets." Her gaze shifted to Oromis, her expression softening with familiarity.

Eragon noticed the subtle shift. "You two know each other?" he asked, intrigued.

Oromis smiled faintly. "Once, a long time ago. But she went by a different name then. We knew her as Anvëryn."

Angela—or rather, Anvëryn—chuckled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Ah, the name of youth. A fleeting moment in a long life. And now, here we are again, playing with ancient magic and destiny. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Eragon raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the deeper layers of Angela's past. "You've lived among the elves?"

"I've lived many lives," she said with a cryptic smile. "And I'm here to offer my assistance. Though, of course, I never give answers outright. That would spoil all the fun."

Dathedr, though still wary, nodded slowly. "Then we welcome your... unique insight."

Dathedr straightened, a look of quiet contemplation crossing his face. "As much as I would like to continue this discussion, I have important matters to attend to in the morning. I will leave you to it. May your efforts bear fruit." With a respectful nod to Oromis and Eragon, he excused himself and disappeared into the night, his steps quick and purposeful.

Eragon watched him go before turning back to the group. "We should consider the details of the writ."

Saphira hummed in agreement. "It must be unbreakable and timeless, like the bonds of our kind. If you cannot trust in the magic, what is left?"

Arya spoke next, her voice thoughtful. "The spellbinding must be layered, protecting future generations from power-hungry Riders who might wish to rewrite it. Perhaps it could be tied to each Rider's very essence, making it impossible to break without severe consequences."

Eragon nodded. "A magical contract tied to a Rider's life force. But it can't be so restrictive that it binds future Riders unfairly. Balance is key."

Angela, leaning casually against a tree, interjected with a playful smile. "You're all so serious. Stones, bonds, consequences... very dreary. What if the magic wasn't just an unbreakable law but something that lives? Something that evolves with time, just as the Riders do? You could make it so the spell itself grows with the Council."

Eragon blinked, intrigued by the idea. "A living spell?"

Angela winked. "Exactly. Why lock yourself into a static set of rules when you could create something that breathes? Something that can adapt."

Oromis nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Angela's suggestion has merit. A spell that evolves may give the future more flexibility while maintaining the integrity of the original intent. We would need to ensure its core remains intact, however, so it doesn't stray."

Eragon thought about the magic, the weight of the responsibility, then looked at Angela. "You always seem to have insight beyond what we can comprehend. Speaking of which—do you have any idea how we could free Oromis from the Crags? Is there a way?"

Angela tilted her head, her eyes narrowing in curiosity. "Free him from the Crags? That's quite the puzzle. Why don't we take a look, shall we?"

Without waiting for permission, Angela stepped closer to Oromis and placed her hand on his arm. Her eyes glazed over as she entered his mind, her brow furrowing in concentration as she sifted through the layers of magic that bound him. Then she turned to Eragon and repeated the process. After a long pause, a smile curved on her lips. She pulled back and met Eragon's gaze, her expression cryptic as ever.

"I see the answer, but... I think I'll let you figure it out," Angela said with a teasing grin. "After all, the best riddles are the ones you solve yourself."

Eragon groaned inwardly but couldn't help the smile tugging at his lips. Angela always did enjoy making things more difficult, but her riddles often led to unexpected revelations.

"Angela," Eragon began. "Please. This is important."

Angela, with a mischievous glint in her eye, leaned in slightly. "Ah, Eragon... your magic is as literal as your mind. When you summoned Oromis, did you call for him—or call him home? You tied him to the Crags because to you, it's where he belongs, isn't it? A Rider bound to one place, yet he's more than just the earth beneath his feet."

She paused, letting the meaning settle.

"To untie the knot, you must see beyond the roots. Oromis isn't just of the Crags. He's of Alagaësia. But—careful—the trick is infusing your new vision with energy enough to let it breathe."

Eragon's eyes widened slightly as the realization dawned on him. He had trapped Oromis, not in spirit, but in place. The magic would need to be reshaped—not just in his will, but in the very essence of how he viewed Oromis' place in the world.

Oromis met Eragon's eyes, his calm gaze reassuring. "I trust you will find a way Eragon, but it is almost a new day. Let us rest for now. I have yet to grow weary of my surroundings. You can try unbinding me tomorrow."

Defeated, Eragon acquiesed. He wanted nothing more than to free his old teacher. Patience, it seemed, was something he lacked still. He bid Angela and Oromis goodnight and he and Arya climbed up Saphira's spikes, her wings spreading to lift them in the air. She winged her way to the now mostly empty clearing where they had feasted. Firnen was still fast asleep, and Saphira determined that it would be too difficult to wake him. Arya smiled at the form of her sleeping partner-of-heart-and-mind, and Saphira curled up beside him to find her own rest.

Eragon and Arya wound their way through the forest towards Vrael's old lodgings. Arya took his hand, and Eragon happily laced his fingers together with hers. It was nice to be able to spend time together in these quiet moments. So much had happened since his return. His life for the past fifteen years had been eat, train, teach, repeat. He had little time for family, for friends, or for love. Now though, he had very little time in Alagaesia, and both his personal and professional lives seemed to be moving so fast. Arya had accepted him, Saphira and Firnen were going to be parents, and they were all going to be together.

"Are you ready for our next adventure?" Eragon asked.

"I have lived in static for over a decade Eragon," Arya replied. "I couldn't be more ready."

"You worry still," he said. "I can see it tinging your thoughts. You're not satisfied with how things played out with Fiolr."

"I doubt I will ever stop worrying," she said then. "Even when I was an ambassador to the Varden, worry was my shield."

They arrived at the tree and walked up the steps. Eragon brought her hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to them.

"I will worry for you, and you can worry for me," Eragon said. "Burdens are often lighter and easier to carry when they are not our own."

Arya looked into his eyes then. She said nothing, and they simply stood there for what could have been hours. She kissed him then, a deep kiss, a hungry one. All at once a familiar fire engulfed them. Eragon opened his mind as hers pressed against his. He wanted her, and she was consumed with thoughts of his mouth on her. She wanted him closer, but their clothes couldn't come off fast enough. Eragon held her face in one hand and the small of her back in the other. Reaching for the door, he quickly pushed them both inside for privacy.

Arya reached for his tunic, peeling him out of it efficiently. He returned the favor, and before he could get his boots off, she was on top of him, her black tresses fanning out to cover his chest as he reached for her lips once more. She pinned him back on the bed, kissing him with a trail of fire from his neck to his hip. The whole room seemed an inferno, and he struggled to free her of her leather pants. With only a thought, she was naked.

Eragon grinned. The instinctual magic was becoming like an extension of his subconscious. It was problematic in general, but currently, he found it quite handy.

Arya rolled her eyes and removed his pants the old fashioned way. Once their boots were out of the way, Eragon flipped her on her back, eliciting a few uncharacteristic giggles from his former Queen. She looked at him hungrily, her eyes glazed with lust. With a single movement, they were one. As Arya cried out, Eragon silenced the room magically, and they both let out a laugh at their forgetfulness.

Eragon stared at his mate as they sealed their union. His thoughts were only of her. Her beauty, her strength, her loyalty. He loved everything about her, and he wanted her to know it. He wanted her to feel it. They moved in unison then, back and forth until they were crying out each other's names, their pleasure washing over them like a tidal wave.

Eragon collapsed to the side of her, and Arya tucked his arm over her until he was cradling her in a deep embrace. The pair fell into their waking dreams, prepared to face this new life together.