Disclaimer: I do not own The Inheritance Cycle. I only own the OC Michael/Ancalagon.


Ancalagon was the first to wake up the following morning. He noticed this when he saw his companions were still asleep, nearly snorting in amusement as he saw Saphira letting out small growls and her legs twitching in her sleep. She was most likely dreaming, probably pursuing prey that continued to evade her. Eragon was curled at her side in his bedroll as usual, while Brom laid in his own near a tree. The black dragon turned his gaze skyward, seeing that the dawn had arrived in an unusual blaze of blood-red clouds. Feathery bands of white, red-tinged vapor drifted in the heavens, reflecting the strangely eerie light of the rising sun.

Ancalagon rose from his position and quietly made his way over to the center of the clearing. He launched himself into the air and soared over the forest, searching for prey.

Ancalagon soon spotted a deer bounding through the forest. Swooping down upon the unsuspecting doe, he speared it with his claws and plunged his head down to rip its throat apart, ending the prey's suffering. As he dined on the creature's flesh, his thoughts turned to his former life.

What happened to his body in his world? Was it still there? Was this some sort of spiritual work where he's in a coma while his spirit is in the body of a dragon in another world? No, that sounded too far fetched. If his human body wasn't there, then how would his family take the discovery of his disappearance? They'd be searching high and low to find him, unaware of where he truly is. His friends would be searching as well, for they were loyal to their friendship to the end.

He missed them. He missed his mother, his father, his sisters and his friends.

A whimper left the silver dragon as a tear trailed down his scaly cheek, and he closed his eyes to prevent more tears. A feeling stirred in the pit of his stomach, growing and growing until it overcame him and he let out a sound that sounded like a choked sob. He knew what this feeling was.

Loneliness and homesickness.

He laid there for half an hour, feasting on his breakfast. Once he had his fill, he cleaned the blood off his claws and muzzle before pausing when another deer stumbled onto the scene and froze in its tracks when it saw the apex predator before it. Ancalagon tilted his head before he decided to fetch some breakfast for Saphira, and pursued the deer.


When Saphira woke up, she registered two things. One was the obvious feeling of her Rider against her side as always. The second was the absence of a certain silver-scaled dragon. The dragoness looked around with confusion, wondering where Ancalagon had gone to before coming to the conclusion he had gone off to hunt most likely. That was something she noted about him, he liked to get up early and either go for a flight or a very early morning hunt.

Saphira rose to her feet and stretched, yawning as she did so before looking to the sky. The rising red sun had painted the sky an unusual crimson hue, the red colors dulled by Saphira's color-selective vision. Clouds dotted the horizon, looking like so many airborne rubies. The sun's red light was cast across the campsite in bright scarlet bands, interrupted at intervals by long shadows cast by the tall trees.

She turned to the two bundles where the humans slept, focusing on the one her Rider occupied. It's time to wake up, Eragon.

"Already?" Eragon mumbled groggily, rubbing his eyes. His hair was in disarray and his clothes were wrinkled.

Indeed, little one. In fact, we have slept too long. It is early, yet we should resume our journey now so as to get a good start.

Eragon woke Brom, who was much less of a morning person. The old storyteller looked around, noticing Ancalagon's absence like Saphira.

"Where's our silver friend?" he asked Eragon and Saphira.

Eragon shrugged. "I'm pretty sure that he's just off on a short flight." Eragon said.

I agree, Saphira said, If my habits are anything to judge by, he's likely off hunting. If not, then he went for a small flight as he seems to do every morning when he awakens.

As if to confirm her guess, Ancalagon's silver form appeared in the air over the treetops to the east, a deer dangling from his mouth. He landed smoothly.

A successful hunt? Saphira questioned

Yes. Ancalagon replied as he approached Saphira. A doe tried to escape, but she didn't get far. The same with this buck, but I decided to bring it back to you. He placed the stiff deer on the ground. Releasing the deer from the strong grip exerted by his jaws, Ancalagon licked his bloodied muzzle a couple of times to clear the viscous red liquid.

Before he was able to finish and move off, Saphira darted her head forward, gently brushing her snout against the smooth silver scales. Ancalagon flinched, then pulled back in surprise, interrupting the contact.

Saphira blinked once, a hint of surprise present in her deep sapphire eyes. I did not expect you to hunt for me, Ancalagon. This is very nice of you. She said as she sniffed the deer a few times before picking it into her jaws, dragging it closer to her. Then, she placed her forepaw on it and tore into the corpse, blood gushing from the flesh as it was ripped open.

Did I miss anything important? Ancalagon said, turning his gaze from Saphira to Brom and Eragon.

"No. But the Raz'ac's tracks suggest they have gone to Yazuac." Eragon said. "We were just about to pack up and leave."

Yazuac... how far is it? Ancalagon asked, even though he already knew.

"Due east and 4 days away, if all goes well. It's a small village situated by the Ninor River." Brom gestured at the Anora, which streamed away from them to the north. "Our only supply of water is here. We'll have to replenish our waterskins before attempting to cross the plains. There isn't another pool or stream between here and Yazuac."

We should be careful. Ancalagon warned as he glanced at the sky. I sense a storm is to come soon.

"Impossible. There's no sign of one." Brom shook his head.

Ancalagon levelled him with a look. Are you saying you can read the air currents better than a dragon? Are you willing to risk our lives, her life, because you won't take my word for it?

For once in his life, Brom seemed unable to come up with a retort. It was true, dragons could read the air currents, being masters of the sky, it was entirely possible they'd know when a storm is on approach or to come. Of course, Ancalagon knew this from his foreknowledge... and because of dragon lore, well... Bearded Dragons he should say. And yes, he knew they weren't quite the same but he was using that little fact about the small lizards here and now as an excuse for his foreknowledge.

Finally, Brom shook his head. "Though I know to trust a dragon's intuition, we cannot delay. As soon as there are signs of a storm coming, we'll not go any further and wait it out."

Ancalagon nodded. He supposed that would do.


As Ancalagon predicted, the signs of a storm began to gather as a wind began to pick up. Since there was no shelter, they were forced to camp in the open. Eragon and Brom had to sleep underneath the dragons' wings, though they were grateful for the shelter and the warmth provided from the body heat of the dragons.

The morning after, Eragon woke well rested. This, combined with the wind becoming calm, left him in a good mood. These feelings of joy were brief, and the high spirits were dampened when Eragon saw that the sky ahead of them was dark with thunderheads.

Brom grimaced at the clouds, "Looks like you were indeed right, Ancalagon. Apologies for doubting you."

Apology accepted. Ancalagon said, eyeing the storm. It looked... worse than what the book made it out to be.

"Normally, I wouldn't go into a storm like that." Brom sighed. "But we're in for a battering no matter what we do. We might as well try and get as far as we can before it hits, then hunker down and brace ourselves until it passes."

The calm lasted until they reached the storm front. As they entered the storm's shadow, Eragon looked up to find it curved in intricate arcs. Returning his gaze to the ground before him, he spotted what seemed to be a ripple of air ahead of them. And it was heading for them fast. Eragon had a terrible feeling of foreboding as he and Brom hunched their shoulders, bracing themselves for the wind's impact. Eragon suddenly remembered the dragons and twisted in his saddle, mental words already shouting a warning that only had time to begin forming on his lips: Saphira, Ancalagon, LAND!

Ancalagon was already in motion, having suddenly remembered what had been about to happen. He had seized Saphira with his front claws and dove, pulling her down next to him. She struggled against him at this sudden indignation as they streaked towards the ground, but once she heard Eragon's mental scream, she went still, doing all she could to speed up the dive.

Brom's face paled, and they watched as Ancalagon and Saphira barely managed to reach the ground before the tsunami of wind struck. Saphira made to extend her wings to balance herself, but Ancalagon growled and pinned her wings to her side and pulled them both to the ground. The wave of wind blew past the dragons in a hurricane of dirt, rocks and blades of grass. Ancalagon kept Saphira down on the ground until the wind subsided, then released her.

Are you okay? Ancalagon asked worriedly, feeling the dragoness shaking and shivering beside him. He knew the fear of thunder and lightning very well, and as he looked at her... he saw himself when he was younger, scared of the storm.

I-I couldn't do anything. Saphira said, her voice shaky, filled with terror as her body continued to tremble in fear. Ancalagon's eyes softened greatly, a feeling swelling inside his stomach, and he found himself draping his wing over Saphira and pulling her close to his warm body, humming deeply in comfort. I-I was s-so scared...

Hush, I've got you. Ancalagon shushed her gently.

Lightning crackled across the sky and thunder rolled as they continued on, the dragons now on foot to avoid another wind-related catastrophe. Saphira cringed as a particularly large bolt of lightning forked through the sky nearby. She moved closer to Ancalagon, who seemed unphased by the display of light and noise. In fact, his eyes almost seemed to leap with excitement with each flash of light and each rumble of thunder.

H-How are you not afraid? Saphira asked, her voice not as shaky and terrified as before but there was still a hint of fear in it. Her terror had been mostly subdued thanks to Ancalagon's comforting presence beside her, his wing still draped over her back. It felt... nice, in her opinion.

I used to be, when I was... younger. But my mother, the human who found and raised me, was always there to comfort me when I would cry out in terror at the terrifying sight. Ancalagon said quietly. It was true, his mother always comforted him when there would be a lightning storm. He remembered always running into his parents' bedroom, jumping into bed and curling up against his mother, shaking like a leaf out of pure fear and terror. This was when he was still very young, unable to comprehend what he was hearing outside. As he grew older, the fear went away and he found himself listening to it like one would listen to rain as they slept.

The two dragons glanced at the sky as another bolt of lightning struck across the sky, causing Saphira to cower with a whimper and tuck her head underneath Ancalagon's wing. The silver dragon hummed deeper, a rumble in his voice that gently soothed Saphira as his tail caressed her side comfortingly.

Sleep, Saphira. Ancalagon said softly.I'll be here.

Saphira looked at him before she slowly laid her head down, tucking it underneath his wing, and closed her eyes. The gentle rumble in his throat, his subtle scent drifting of his wing, and his warm bulk beside hers began to lull her to sleep. She tried to remain awake, but it just felt so right to lay here with him, so she let her eyes close and sleep take her.

Ancalagon watched her for a moment before he laid his head down, closing his own eyes but then he felt a tongue against his cheek.

Thank you, Ancalagon...


And that's it for this chapter.