I do not own any part of the Harry Potter or Eragon universes.
Roran sat with a heavy heart, his head resting on his arms which were propped up on his knees. The sun was high in the sky, shining down on the green trees and obscuring his view of the river, Anora.
It had been five months since he last laid eyes on his old home, and as he looked upon the remains of his childhood, he couldn't help but feel a deep sadness. The house was nearly completely collapsed, with only a small wooden wall leading to the stable still standing. Even that was charred and would need to be torn down.
As he gazed up at the hill, memories flooded back to him of him and Eragon spending countless hours there, enjoying the stunning view of their home. He closed his eyes and let himself be transported back in time to those carefree days, when they laughed and bickered with each other, enjoying the simple joys of their childhood.
Eragon.
Roran clenched his fists as anger and sorrow swept over him. He couldn't ignore the nagging thought that Eragon was responsible for their father's death.
Ever since he'd found that blue stone, Eragon had been acting strange. Roran didn't know exactly what the stone was, but he was certain it had something to do with magic.
Garrow had always cautioned them about magic, saying that it would bring nothing but ill fortune to their lives.
"What are you racking your brain about right now?" Katrina questioned him.
With a warm smile, Roran greeted her. In the bright sunshine, she appeared as radiant as a goddess, with her copper hair gleaming like spun gold.
Katrina took a seat beside him and embraced him from the side. A gesture Roran cherished dearly.
Roran spoke softly, "I'm thinking about everything. It's like my spirit has been set free. My mind is filled with questions that I don't have answers to, and I don't even know if I want to find them."
Katrina sat next to him, running her fingers over his chin, feeling the stubble. "It's important that we ask ourselves these questions, Roran," she said. "Else our minds grow old and slow."
Roran's tone was irritated as he asked, "Did you learn that from Harry?"
Katrina's expression turned serious as she responded in a gentle tone, "No, from Gertrude. I wish I could ask him, but I have no idea where Harry is at the moment. He could be anywhere."
As she mentioned Harry's name, Roran noticed a slight quiver in her voice, indicating her concern for his whereabouts.
"You miss him," he said quietly.
Roran felt a weight in his chest, a heavy feeling that he couldn't quite identify. Could it be jealousy?
Katrina grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her, glaring deeply into his eyes. "Don't be a fool, Roran. I have told you that I do not love Harry like that." She kissed him softly on the cheek.
"I love you and nothing will change that," she brushed a strand of hair from her face.
Seeing the love in her eyes, the feeling in his chest melted, making way for something warm.
"I remember the last time I doubted you," Roran admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "You certainly showed me that I was wrong."
He had acted like an idiot once when he accused her of leaving him for Harry. Harry must have shown her a few tricks because before he knew it, he was on the floor. He then had to listen carefully to what Katrina thought of his jealousy.
It was one of the few days in his life that he was ashamed of himself and promised himself that he would never let that happen again.
He could well remember the day; how awkward it was sitting in Harry's home with Katrina and Harry next to each other.
Watching Katrina laugh and Harry making her smile was very hard to watch. But it wasn't long before Harry had pulled him aside and assured him that he didn't have any romantic feelings towards Katrina.
Harry then turned the tables on him, and it ended up with Harry threatening him if anything ever happened to Katrina.
Roran wasn't sure if his conversation with Sloan would end the same if he asked for Katrina's hand in marriage. While Sloan was her father, Katrina and Harry shared a similar bond that he and Eragon shared.
Katrina chuckled softly. "But yes, I miss Harry… a lot," she admitted with worry.
With determination, Katrina vowed, "He better have a well thought out apology when he sees me again," as she angrily pulled Roran towards the village by his arm.
"A single letter," she continued with rage, "with a few lines in which he writes that he has to leave the village and does not know when he will come back." Roran gulped, not wanting to imagine the consequences if Katrina were to see Harry again.
"I don't like him. He's rude," Artemis commented annoyed. Dragon and rider were on their way to King Hrothgar's throne room.
The first time they had met the dwarf who was leading them to the throne room, he had turned his back on them and refused to exchange another word.
"You're right," Harry said. He found the dwarf's attitude towards them childish. Despite having to destroy Isidar Mithrim, they managed to emerge victorious in the battle for Farthen Dûr and even restored their beloved sapphire.
So, what was the reason they were treated this way?
"It's been a long day for me, and my head still hurts after last night. We fought and killed for the dwarves and I'm still a dragon. I won't be insulted by a petty dwarf," Artemis grumbled.
She craned her neck and let out a loud roar in advance. The sound reverberated through the cavernous hallway, echoing off the stone walls, and causing a few loose stones to fall from the ceiling. As Artemis let out her roar, the nearby torches flickered, and the air seemed to vibrate with the force of her voice.
The humans and dwarfs around them stopped in their tracks, turning to look in awe at the massive dragon towering over them. Some of them even bowed their heads in respect.
But not everyone was impressed. The dwarf leading them scowled and muttered something under his breath, clearly not pleased by the interruption. As Artemis continued to roar, the dwarf stumbled backwards in fear, tripping over his own feet and landing unceremoniously on the ground.
The dwarf's eyes widened in terror as Artemis snorted and a small flame shot out of her nostrils, scorching the air in front of her. His face turned ashen as he stumbled backwards, only stopping when the back of his head hit the wall.
"I think you just reminded him that there was a dragon in front of him," Harry remarked dryly.
"I believe we should quicken our pace, my friend," Harry spoke aloud, addressing the dwarf. "It would not be courteous to make the king wait any longer, don't you think?"
Artemis let out another snort, this time a warning. With trembling legs, the dwarf stood up and looked up at them anxiously. The dwarf quickly got up and nodded slowly, but before he continued on, he gave a small bow towards Artemis.
"I am Gloyx, A-Argetlam. I will now lead you to King Hrothgar," the dwarf stuttered quickly.
Artemis turned her head towards him and flashed a wicked grin, baring her knife-like teeth.
"As small as they are, they should know that they should respect me," she declared.
Harry couldn't help but stifle a chuckle within himself, and the two of them proceeded to trail behind the dwarf as they made their way towards the throne room.
Upon arriving at the entrance to the throne room, they were greeted by four dwarves stationed on either side of the doors. As they drew near, one of the dwarves stepped forward and pounded his fist against the hard stone, causing a low rumble to echo through the chamber. The massive doors creaked open, revealing the dimly lit throne room shrouded in mystery and intrigue.
Harry dismounted from Artemis' back and walked alongside her as they entered the throne room.
The sight that greeted Harry in the throne room left him stunned. Despite having noticed the dwarves' dedication to perfection in their tunnel carvings, the throne room appeared to be deliberately left in its natural state.
Stalagmites and stalactites protruded from the walls, forming intricate patterns that led to beautifully crafted statues. It was a stunning contrast to the carefully crafted tunnels and halls he had witnessed in Farthen Dûr so far.
Moving forward on a narrow path, Harry and Artemis soon realized that the statues they had seen earlier were not merely ornamental but were in fact representations of former dwarf kings. The intricate details of each statue spoke of the dwarves' reverence for their past rulers, as well as the skill of the craftsmen who had brought them to life in stone.
Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of awe as they walked amidst the towering figures, each one a testament to the legacy and history of the dwarven people.
Harry and Artemis came to a stop a few yards away from Hrothgar's throne. As they took in the surroundings, Harry couldn't help but notice that the throne was designed in the same fashion as the rest of the throne room - rugged and unrefined.
It appeared as if the dwarves had simply carved the throne out of the rocky surface and called it a day. The result was a clunky and unimpressive piece of stone that looked decidedly uncomfortable to sit in.
At Hrothgar's side stood seven dwarves, armed with axes. Harry was sure they would not hesitate for a moment to draw their weapons and give their lives to protect their king.
Noticing Harry's intrigued expression, Hrothgar spoke up, explaining the meaning behind the throne's design.
"This throne was intentionally left unfinished, hewn straight from the rock, to remind every king that his reign is a choice made by his people," he said, gesturing with his hands to emphasize his point.
"Without the support and trust of my people, this throne would have no value," he added solemnly.
Despite the deep respect and reverence that Hrothgar clearly held for his people and their role in his reign, he couldn't help but shift uncomfortably on the bumpy throne and rub his side.
"Even if it's impossible to sit well on it," he growled with a hint of humor, acknowledging the throne's less-than-comfortable design.
"But that is not why you have come," Hrothgar continued, his expression turning serious once again. "I have been made aware that Grimstborith Nado has conversed with you. Can you confirm this to be true?" Hrothgar inquired, his tone carrying a mix of curiosity and concern.
Harry and Artemis exchanged a quick glance. "You have not bothered to speak with us before, why bother now?" Harry asked carefully.
Hrothgar smiled slightly. "I am saddened that you have this reaction to my words, Artemis and Harry Potter. You must understand that convincing our people to engage in battle is no simple task. I deeply regret not having personally extended my welcome to you in Tronjheim earlier, but I shall rectify that now. Welcome to Tronjheim, the very heart of the Beor Mountains and the esteemed capital of my people," Hrothgar expressed, his words carrying a sense of pride and sincerity.
"As an expression of gratitude for your service, both you, Artemis, and you too, Harry Potter, will forever be welcomed in our halls as esteemed friends of my people," Hrothgar declared with genuine appreciation.
The dwarves standing by Hrothgar's side seized their axes firmly, forcefully driving them into the ground, causing crimson sparks to fly. They repeated this action twice before securely locking their weapons.
In response, Harry inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the gesture. "Thank you, Artemis and I are grateful for your kindness," he replied.
For the first time, a glimmer of excitement sparkled in Hrothgar's eyes, and the deep lines around them seemed to soften.
"Neither dragon nor rider are particularly fond of bowing before a king?" Hrothgar remarked, his curiosity piqued.
Harry shook his head, a wry smile forming on his lips. "There's a saying I once heard from a goblin: 'Only bow when you are certain the person before you are not armed, for before you know it, their cleaver will be at your neck.'"
Hrothgar's beard widened as he erupted into laughter, a wide grin stretching across his face.
"Ha! It is quite uncommon to encounter a rider with both courage and wit standing before me. Tell me, what did Nado say to you when you encountered him?" Hrothgar inquired eagerly; his interest piqued by their conversation.
"Nado created quite a disturbance and uproar. He interrupted our work and insulted us," Harry explained, recounting the disruptive encounter.
Hrothgar's lines around his eyes seemed to deepen. Harry had seen Hrothgar fight at the Battle of Tronjheim, but now, for the first time, the old dwarf king looked old and frail to him.
"You must understand that our people are fiercely proud," Hrothgar began, his voice filled with a mix of solemnity and regret. "The Dragon War, known as Az Jurgenvren, poisoned the minds of many of our brethren. Their hearts became weakened, and they started placing blame on the dragon riders who fought to protect this land."
Harry interjected softly, "But those dragon riders are no longer among the living."
Hrothgar nodded slowly, his expression reflecting the weight of the situation.
"Indeed, they are gone. However, with your presence, along with Eragon and Saphira, the void filled with sorrow in the hearts of my people has created an opening for hatred to seep in. My people have become divided, and Nado stands as one of the Varden's most vocal adversaries. I apologize for any distress or false information he may have conveyed to you."
Artemis raised her head proudly, unfurling her wings. "There is no need for you to apologize for the actions of your subjects, king under the Mountain," she declared.
He conveyed Artemis' message to Hrothgar, who nodded appreciatively in response.
Artemis regarded the king with curiosity. "Was there a specific reason why a dwarf of the Dûrgrimst Knurlcarathn guided us to you?"
Hrothgar raised his hand and gently stroked his beard. His eyes gleamed with amusement, and even his guards emitted sounds resembling laughter.
"I instructed Grimstborith Nado to lead you, as a reminder of who his king is," he replied, his voice laced with a hint of satisfaction. "His conduct towards you was unacceptable, but regrettably, the Dûrgrimst Knurlcarathn clan holds significant power and influence. Though it may seem like a slight, Nado was evidently irritated that his clan was obligated to guide you."
Harry smirked, but then straightened himself and clasped his hands behind his back. "But I also wish to apologize. The last few months have not been easy, and my mind was still wild from the battle. I should have acted differently towards Grimstborith Nado, but the urge to help the injured blurred my vision," Harry said and bowed his head.
Hrothgar sighed. "Thank you, and yet you saved many dwarves and Varden with your magical powers. You even restored Isidar Mithrim to its former glory."
For the second time, the dwarves stirred at Hrothgar's side. They held their fists in front of their hearts and gave Artemis and Harry a deep bow.
Hrothgar inclined his head towards Harry. The sorrow drained from Hrothgar's face and his wrinkles relaxed.
"As a token of gratitude in restoring Isidar Mithrim, the armor for Artemis is currently being repaired by the skilled master smiths of the Ingeitum. Baldr has personally assured me that it will be completed before your departure for Ellesméra," Hrothgar informed them.
"In normal circumstances, there would be a grand celebration held in your honor, with barrels of mead and the finest wines of Alagaёsia opened in gratitude. Songs would be sung, praising your heroic deeds," Hrothgar expressed with a hint of nostalgia. He closed his eyes, gently stroking his beard.
Standing up from his throne, the aged dwarven king gazed down at his hammer.
"This hammer was forged by Korgan, the first dwarf king. His name is Volund and has served every king faithfully since."
His muscles tensed as he held the mighty hammer at eye level.
"This is a token of my friendship," Hrothgar growled, ramming the hammer into the ground. He walked up to Harry and held out his hand.
Harry eyed his hand for a moment before getting a needed nudge from Artemis.
"To friendship," Harry murmured.
Hrothgar's lip curled in amusement as they both firmly grasped each other's forearms.
Arya silently moved through the hallways, keeping close to Brom's side.
Brom grumbled, though the growling of his stomach threatened to drown out his words.
"Let's make our way to the kitchens. All this talking has left me famished."
Before long, they arrived at the kitchens. Arya pushed the door open and stood still, as she found herself face to face with Artemis. Artemis remained motionless, except for one lip that slowly lifted to reveal a line of sharp teeth.
It took a moment for Artemis to relax and close her mouth.
Arya sensed the dragon connecting with her mind and allowed her entry.
"Apologies. I didn't anticipate you and Brom," she said, irritation evident in her voice.
Arya glanced past her, her eyes filled with questions as she noticed Harry seated at one of the tables, with a plate of soup and bread in front of him.
"Did you expect someone else?" she inquired of the dragon.
Artemis thumped her tail on the floor in annoyance. "I wasn't expecting anyone. After our conversation with Hrothgar, hunger struck us, so we decided to come to the kitchens for a bite. It seems some Varden members noticed us, as men, women, and dwarves wouldn't leave us alone."
She huffed towards the entrance they had entered from. Brom walked over and closed the door behind him.
Brom spoke in the ancient language and placed his hand against the door.
The wooden door creaked and not even an Urgal would be able to open it now.
"That should grant us some peace," Brom remarked mischievously.
Artemis grunted in satisfaction, while Arya and Brom took a seat across from Harry at the table.
Clearing her throat when Harry failed to notice either her or Brom, Arya prompted his attention.
Harry blinked and lifted his gaze from his plate.
"Forgive me, I was lost in thoughts," Harry apologized.
Brom leaned forward, tearing off a substantial piece of bread and biting into it with satisfaction.
"Finally, something to eat," Brom said contentedly.
"One would think that as a founder of the Varden, you'd at least receive a decent meal," he remarked. Brom slammed his hand on the table, accidentally knocking over a pitcher of mead. "Ha! One moment, you're their hero, and the next, a young lad rises to prominence, leaving you forgotten in the wind."
Harry retrieved his wand and swiftly flicked it twice. Two plates levitated into the air, making their way towards a cauldron where a savory soup simmered. A floating ladle accompanied them, filling the plates generously until they teetered on the verge of spilling over. The plates, brimming with food, glided to their respective tables, and settled before Arya and Brom.
Arya had been observing the spectacle with keen interest, while Brom emitted a dismissive snort. Nonetheless, he eagerly seized a spoon and enthusiastically dug into the soup. "I'm glad to be able to wield my magic again. The kitchens were empty of dwarves when I arrived, and since I felt famished, I decided to whip up a soup using the available leftovers," Harry explained with a shrug.
"I can't say I'm surprised that the dwarves left behind the vegetables," Artemis remarked with a snort of her own.
Arya brushed her dark hair over her shoulders and commenced her meal, savoring it slowly.
"So, Brom, which Urgal decided to take a bite out of your ass, causing such annoyance?" Harry asked, his amusement evident.
Brom grumbled under his breath, but it was Arya who provided an answer.
"Brom and I just came from a meeting with Nasuada and the Council of Elders. They have finalized the decision that the Varden will depart from Farthen Dûr and make their way to Surda within the next month."
Harry arched an eyebrow as he once again waved his wand, lifting the earlier fallen goblet from the ground. The mead flowed upwards like a cascading waterfall, refilling the vessel that he handed to Brom, who accepted it with gratitude.
"Surda? If I recall correctly, it's located in the south, but I can't quite recall the name of the king," Harry admitted, as he remembered the maps, they were given from Jeod.
Arya nodded in agreement. "The name that you are missing is King Orrin of House Langfeld. Surda lies to the west of the Beor Mountains. Hrothgar has already pledged his support to the Varden for the upcoming journey."
Brom raised the goblet to his lips. "It's too soon. Neither Eragon nor you, Harry, are prepared to face Galbatorix. The decision to travel to Surda is overly aggressive."
"And yet, it presents an opportunity," Harry commented. "The only question is, how will Galbatorix react when he discovers that the Varden have departed from Farthen Dûr and to seek help in Surda?"
Brom wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "He will do nothing. Galbatorix may possess many traits, but foolishness is not one of them. He has not ventured out of his fortress for years, and I doubt he will do so this time. My suspicion is that he will be awaiting our arrival in Urû'baen and send his lapdog Morzan after us," Brom stated with a grunt.
"Making assumptions about a mind as twisted as Galbatorix's is unwise," Artemis softly advised Harry and Arya.
"We'll need to remain patient and observe," Harry responded to Artemis.
"Galbatorix losing control over the Urgals will undoubtedly consume his time, unless he opts to wipe them all out," he said out aloud.
Arya savored the final spoonful of her soup, thoroughly enjoying its flavors once again. She could easily grow accustomed to Harry's culinary prowess. "Acknowledging the perils of not knowing what lies ahead is a risk we must embrace. That is precisely why we are setting off for Ellesméra tomorrow. Both you and Eragon must resume your training as soon as possible."
"Which you will. Thank you for the meal, Harry. The three of you should prepare for tomorrow's departure," Brom remarked.
Brom rose from the bench and headed toward the exit. He muttered something in the ancient language before leaving the kitchens and closed the door behind him.
"I assume the Council of Elders truly managed to irritate him?" Harry inquired of Arya.
Arya let out a sigh. "Yes, Sabrae and Falberd, in particular, have taken a firm stance against Nasuada. They continue to defy her, while the rest of the council members have started to support Nasuada, albeit perhaps out of their own self-interest."
Harry grimaced. "I detest politics. It has a way of transforming even the most amiable individuals into greedy monsters."
Arya's lips curved into a smile as she gracefully stood up from her seat. Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she observed the playful interaction between Harry and Artemis.
A sudden snort from the dragon caused a gust of wind, ruffling Harry's hair, much to his surprise. His unruly locks danced in the air for a brief moment before settling back into place. Chuckling softly, Arya couldn't help but appreciate the lightheartedness and camaraderie that had formed among them during their time together.
"Arya, what are your thoughts on Hrothgar's stance?" Harry inquired. Arya's gaze turned thoughtful as Harry's question lingered in the air.
She arched an elegant eyebrow. "Regarding Eragon's choice to become a vassal to Nasuada?"
Harry nodded and she tilted her head slightly, considering the complex dynamics at play. "Hrothgar is a wise and pragmatic leader," she began, her voice carrying a hint of contemplation.
"While he holds great respect for Eragon's role in our battles against the Empire, his decision regarding Eragon's allegiance to Nasuada will likely be influenced by a range of factors."
She paused for a moment, her eyes scanning the room as if searching for insights hidden in the air.
"Hrothgar values loyalty and honor, but he is also keenly aware of the political landscape. The dwarves have their own history… their own priorities."
Arya's expression turned slightly wistful, as if acknowledging the weight of the decisions that lay ahead.
"In the end, Hrothgar's choice will be driven by what he believes is in the best interest of the dwarves and their alliance with the Varden. We can only hope that our past deeds and friendships will guide his judgment and help forge a path that leads us closer to our shared goal. Whether his friendship with you will be enough for Hrothgar remains to be seen."
Dawn was still half an hour away when Harry and Artemis stood before Tronjheim's formidable north gate, its massive structure towering above them. The gate, though partially raised, still stood as a formidable barrier, a guardian of the dwarven stronghold.
Harry's eyes caught sight of a breathtaking sight near the exit. Standing tall and proud, a pair of magnificent golden griffins, each measuring an impressive ten yards in height, commanded attention, and reverence.
The golden griffins, intricately sculpted with astonishing detail, seemed to come alive in the ambient light. Their feathers glimmered with a lustrous sheen, reflecting hues of gold and bronze, while their fierce expressions conveyed a sense of power and nobility. The griffins appeared to be frozen in mid-flight, their wings outstretched as if ready to take to the skies at any moment. Their regal presence evoked a sense of guardianship, as if they were protectors of Tronjheim, standing sentinel against any threat that dared to approach.
The small pouch suspended around Harry's neck wriggled with fervor, swaying back and forth as if animated by its own eager anticipation. Its restless movements ceased only when Harry gently grasped it with his hand, steadying its excited quivers.
Together they walked to a recessed area where the others were already waiting for them. Orik had settled himself on the ground, a large bag placed by his side, while Saphira surveyed the tunnels with keen interest. Eragon stood alongside Orik, holding a helmet in his hands.
Baldr sat beside Orik, his hand gently stroking his dark beard. He was perched atop a mound of bags, with pieces of armor protruding from the pile.
"Finally," Orik exclaimed, a blend of relief and slight frustration evident in his voice. "I must admit, I started to doubt whether you would arrive at all."
Harry responded with a sheepish smile, acknowledging Orik's concerns. "Apologies for the delay, Orik. I was sleeping like a log, and Artemis forgot to wake me up."
"Next time, I'll grab you onto my back with my teeth and tie you there," Artemis said.
"I will remind you the next time you refuse to be waken," Harry snorted and playfully rubbed Artemis' flank.
Orik let out an exasperated sigh, rolling his eyes. "Well, at least you're not as tardy as the others. Where are they? Arya assured me she would be here!"
He shook his head annoyed at the others. "Barzûl! The only concept of time the elves know is to be late and even later."
"Aren't dwarves like that, too?" Eragon asked cautiously.
Orik barked a laugh and held up a finger. "But the stone changes if given enough time. In the seven decades that I have known Arya, I have learned that of all races, elves change the least."
Harry regarded the dwarf with a hint of disbelief. While Orik's words painted a certain picture of the elves, Harry decided to reserve judgment until he had the chance to witness their actions firsthand.
He turned towards Baldr. "Are you also joining us on our journey to Ellesméra?"
Baldr stood up from his seat, inadvertently tripping over the armor until he landed on the floor. "Thank you, Argetlam," the dwarf grunted thankfully when Harry helped him up. "Dwarves' legs get wobbly when they're not on solid stone."
"I can see that," Harry dryly remarked.
The dwarf laughed and playfully punched Harry's legs. "To answer your earlier question, I will join you, but only until we reach Tarnag. After that, I will continue my journey to Bregan Hold, the home of my clan."
"We will be glad to have you with us then. Have you managed to repair the armor?" Harry inquired.
Baldr nodded proudly. "The finest smiths of my clan have been toiling day and night to complete Artemis' armor. Saphira's armor will remain in the possession of the Varden, but Hrothgar mentioned that you would like to take Artemis' armor with you."
The dwarf hesitated, glancing uncertainly between Harry and Artemis, unsure of how the armor would fit into her bags.
Harry grinned and twirled his wand in a circular motion. With a clink, the armor levitated and astonishingly vanished into Artemis' saddlebags.
Observing the inquisitive expressions of the others, Harry replied shortly, "Expansion spell."
Out of the corner of his eyes, Harry saw Eragon fidgeting as Arya, Brom and Nasuada approached.
Arya was wearing the same black leather outfit Harry first saw her in. Her hair was neatly tied back in a ponytail, accentuating her pointed ears with grace.
"You accepted it," Nasuada said in a gentle voice when they neared them.
Harry narrowed his eyes in confusion.
Artemis nudged him lightly with her snout.
"Take a closer look at what Eragon is holding in his hands."
It was Eragon's helm that he wore during the battle, but it had been slightly altered.
Engraved in the steel was the hammer and stars of Orik's and Baldr's clan, the Dûrgrimst Ingeitum.
"It appears that Hrothgar has made his decision," Arya remarked softly.
As the dawn light illuminated their surroundings, Harry locked eyes with her, noticing the initial sparkle in her green eyes.
Brom shut his eyes and let out a chuckle, "I should have known that this would come to pass."
Nasuada gently folded her hands on top each other and sighed slightly. "Perhaps it is for the better. Now you are bound to all three races. Born as a human, you swore an oath to me as a rider. You serve the dwarves as a member of their clan, the Dûrgrimst Ingeitum and the elves become when they train you. You are linked to them by ancient bonds... Perhaps it is best that we share the allegiance of the future leader of the dragon riders."
Amidst Eragon's dazed expression, Harry couldn't help but let out a chuckle. However, his amusement quickly shifted to concern as he turned his attention to Artemis. Through their bond, he could sense the growing anger within her in response to Nasuada's words.
Brom held out his hand with a letter, which Eragon quickly accepted. "Give this letter to your new teacher in Ellesméra."
"Who-?" Eragon began, but Brom shook his head.
"You'll find out soon. Take the time and learn as much as you can, both of you."
Brom addressed Harry for the first time as well.
"Thank you, Brom, for everything," Harry thanked the man.
Brom gave him one of his rare smiles and grasped his shoulders. "I'm still not sure what your arrival means for Alagaёsia, but one thing is certain: I'm glad to have found you among the branches and leaves of the Spine."
He slapped the two young men on the back and looked them in the eyes.
"Always remember that the fate of Alagaёsia rests upon your shoulders. Consider your words carefully before you speak," Brom winked at Harry, before he stepped away.
"Come," Arya said, walking past them. "It is time to go. The Morning Star, Aidail, has appeared and we have a long journey ahead of us."
"Aye," Orik agreed and tossed his bag onto his back. Baldr followed him.
Nasuada looked at them again. "May your journey be safe. Remember, Eragon, you carry the weight of the Varden's hopes and expectations, so acquit yourselves honorably."
"We will do our best," Eragon promised.
Harry nodded in agreement and followed the others on foot. As they ventured further into the tunnels, an unusual sensation stirred in Harry's stomach. The darkness grew more intense with each step, enveloping them in its embrace. The only light cast by Orik's lamp.
Harry's thoughts echoed with words that felt like a distant memory, stretching across an eternity since he last heard them.
"You know Harry, happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light."
He grasped his wand firmly in his hand and a small grin played at the corners of his lips.
"Lumos!"