CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Reunion

The descent felt like an endless journey into the bowels of the earth, the air growing steadily hotter and heavier with every step. The oppressive heat pressed against my skin, dampening my clothes and making every breath a challenge. The craftsmanship of the tunnel was unparalleled, its perfection a testament to the skill of its creators. Every inch of the passage seemed alive with subtle, ancient magic, the kind that whispers secrets to the very stones. Whoever had designed this labyrinth was leagues beyond me in spell craft, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of admiration.

Ahead, an arch loomed in the dim light. It radiated a quiet menace, its purpose clear to anyone with knowledge of magic: it would strip away memories—or attempt to. I approached with measured steps, knowing the safeguards within my core would protect me. "Thank you, Core," I murmured under my breath, feeling the reassuring hum of the artifact's defenses. As I stepped through the arch, I felt the magic of the place test me, a brief and subtle probe, but my defenses held firm. I was close now.

The tunnel opened into a cavernous, circular chamber; its vastness breathtaking. The air was stifling, thick with heat that seemed to rise from the very ground, and the walls shimmered faintly as if alive with latent energy. My gaze swept across the room, and there he stood: Cuaroc, the towering figure of metal and magic, more impressive than the books had described him. His form was monstrous, shaped like a hulking Kull with a dragon's head, his massive body exuding an aura of power and purpose. Behind him, the chamber held a treasure trove of dragon eggs, their shells glimmering with unearthly light, each one a masterpiece of nature's artistry. The Eldunarí and dragon eggs dotted the walls of the Chamber, in rows The sight struck me like a blow to the chest, beautiful and overwhelming. Now I understood why Eragon and Saphira had been so awestruck.

Cuaroc began to move, each step echoing like the fall of a great boulder, the sound reverberating through the chamber. His mechanical roar shook the air, a declaration of dominance that demanded respect. I stood firm, my memories—those I couldn't risk losing—safely tucked away in my core, along with my true name. Yet, when the combined force of the Eldunarí descended upon my mind, it was like being crushed under the weight of a thousand suns. Their psychic might crashed into my mental defenses, and I gritted my teeth, roaring back in defiance as I held the line for what felt like an eternity.

But even the strongest dam eventually breaks. Their power shattered my defenses, and they poured into my mind, sifting through my memories like a tide, careful but relentless. The cacophony of voices was overwhelming, a chorus of dragons long gone yet vibrantly alive within the crystalline hearts. They examined everything I hadn't hidden, delving into my thoughts and experiences. It felt like hours passed, but finally, the torrent ceased, leaving a strange calm in its wake.

Then, the voices coalesced into one, speaking with unified clarity. "We apologize, Mark. We had to ensure you were truly Angvard's chosen. Now that we know you and your intentions, welcome to the Vault of Souls."

Their words resonated with an ancient wisdom, and I straightened, meeting their presence with respect. "We have spoken to your patron," they continued, their tone thoughtful. "We were surprised to hear the gods themselves are dissatisfied with Galbatorix. We had assumed they had forsaken Alagaësia. It is heartening to know that is not the case."

I nodded, my voice steady despite the lingering awe. "I greet you, Eldunarí. Lord Angvard warned me of a greater threat to come, one that makes it imperative to stop Galbatorix before it's too late."

"Indeed," the mental voice of Umaroth, their apparent leader, replied. "Angvard's vision aligns with ours. The threat looms, and to face it, we must act now. You have shown great strength and resolve, Mark, and we would aid you in your quest. But to do so, you must become more than you are. You must become our champion as well."

I had been pacing as we spoke, the gravity of their words pulling me to a halt. Slowly, I turned back toward the towering guardian and asked, my voice thick with uncertainty, "How can I become your champion? I already serve Angvard. What more could I offer?"

Umaroth's presence warmed my mind with a faint chuckle. "Hatchling, becoming our champion does not negate your bond with Angvard. Rather, it strengthens the unity of our goals. We have observed your actions and your heart. You are brave, a warrior who stands for what is right even when the odds are against you. These are the qualities we value most. With our guidance, you could become far more capable than you are now."

I took a moment to process his words, my heart pounding. "So, you wish to train me?" I asked cautiously. "To make me your student?"

"Yes, but more than that," Umaroth replied, his voice laced with meaning. "To fully train you to reach your utmost potential, you must first become one of us."

The realization struck me like lightning. My breath hitched, and I spoke slowly, barely daring to believe it. "You mean... you want me to become a Dragon Rider."

Umaroth's answer was calm, yet charged with certainty. "Precisely. We still place our hope in Eragon and Saphira, but they alone will not be enough for the coming threats. Angvard has made clear the urgency of this task. The Riders must rise again to face the coming darkness. You, Mark, are part of that future."

My thoughts raced. "But how? I thought the eggs here were dormant, and Galbatorix has the others. And what about Eragon? Isn't he your chosen champion?"

"We can awaken an egg," Umaroth assured me. "It is within our power. Eragon and Saphira remain crucial to our plans, but you are now equally important. Together, you will ensure Alagaësia's survival. The Riders will once again defend this land and beyond, as they always have."

The enormity of his offer settled over me. My heart pounded as I considered the implications, the weight of their faith in me. Finally, I nodded, my voice steady but reverent. "I accept, Eldunarí. I will become your champion."

Umaroth's approval was a quiet hum in my mind. "Good, hatchling. Now, approach the egg."

An image formed in my thoughts—a massive egg near the wall, its deep purple shell glistening like a polished gemstone. It was almost as tall as my thigh. As I walked toward it, each step heavy with anticipation, I couldn't help but wonder what kind of dragon awaited me on the other side of this bond. My destiny, it seemed, was about to take flight.

Olympia's POV

Was this heaven? If it was, it definitely sucked. Endless smoke curled around me, shifting in the dim, eternal twilight. The ground beneath my feet felt firm, yet surreal, like a half-formed dream. My chest tightened as I wandered through the void, trying to make sense of where I was. The last thing I remembered was water closing over me, cold and merciless, as I sank into the depths. I had saved that woman and her child—at least my last act had some meaning. But now... was this my judgment? My trial for the afterlife?

I racked my brain for scraps of scripture, but nothing from Bible class fit this eerie, silent landscape. There were no pearly gates, no blazing inferno—just an oppressive, unsettling stillness. My thoughts spiraled deeper until a voice cut through the haze like a blade.

"Welcome, Olympia."

I spun toward the voice, and my breath hitched. Standing before me was the most striking woman I had ever seen. Her platinum blonde hair shimmered like moonlight, cascading over her shoulders, and her skin, a soft gray with an otherworldly glow, radiated power. She was impossibly tall—easily six feet eight—and her robes of black and crimson clung to her like liquid shadow, accentuating her commanding presence. She looked like something out of a video game, like a high priestess of war.

Her lips curved into a smile as she extended a graceful hand toward me. "You stand in my father's domain, brave soul. Your sacrifice was noble, saving a fellow human at the cost of your life. Such courage deserves reward. You have been chosen to become the second of my father's champions."

Champions? Domain? My brain stumbled over her words, trying to make sense of them. "Okay, time out," I said, holding up a hand. "What the hell is going on here? What champion? What world?"

Her smile didn't waver as she replied, "The world of Alagaësia faces a great threat, one beyond the strength of its defenders. My father has chosen champions to aid in its salvation, and you, Olympia, are among them."

I blinked, my thoughts snapping to the books Mark had raved about—the Inheritance Cycle. "Alagaësia? As in... Eragon? No way. That's just a story. Is this some kind of elaborate prank? Am I on a hidden camera show? Because if so, let me tell you, this is way over the top." I gestured at the swirling smoke and dramatic lighting. "Great production value, though. Hats off to whoever pulled this off."

Her expression softened, though her smile persisted. "This is no prank, Olympia. You have died. Your previous life has ended."

With a wave of her hand, an image materialized in the air. I stared in horror as I saw a funeral scene unfold—my parents weeping at a graveside, clutching a medal presented by the fire department. Familiar faces hovered in the background, somber and mourning.

"Turn it off, please." I choked, my voice barely a whisper.

The image dissolved into nothingness, but the weight of it lingered in my chest. I was dead. Really, truly dead.

And yet, here I was, standing in this surreal place, being offered... what? A second chance? In Alagaësia? Mark would have been losing his mind right about now, giddy beyond words.

I let out a dry chuckle. "So, let me get this straight. Alagaësia is real? As in, the books, Inheritance Cycle, what is based off a real world? Like parallel universes, multiverse theory, all that jazz?"

The woman inclined her head. "You are perceptive, young one. Indeed, it is so. And I, Moranna, am here to offer you a place in this new life."

I crossed my arms, squinting at her. "Well, Moranna, you're laying it on thick, but okay. What's the catch? There's always a catch."

Before she could respond, a new figure emerged from the shadows. He was massive, a towering presence in obsidian armor that glinted like polished stone. His skin shared Moranna's gray hue, but his eyes burned with a fierce, golden light. A crown rested atop his head, and he radiated authority so absolute it made my knees wobble.

"Father," Moranna said, bowing deeply. "This is Olympia, your second champion."

The towering man strode toward me, his heavy footfalls resonating like thunder. He stopped inches away and leaned down, his piercing gaze boring into mine. A faint smirk tugged at his lips.

"Perfect, absolutely perfect." he rumbled, his voice deep and resonant. "You are smart too. I see why my first Champion would like you. My first champion will appreciate me bonding you two together."

I scowled. "I'm sorry, what? Oh, no, mister. Let's get one thing straight—I'm not some gift for your 'love-starved puppet,' or whatever you call him. If he wants to date someone, tell him to swipe right on a dating app."

Moranna stifled a laugh behind her hand, but the man—Angvard, apparently—only grinned wider. "You have spirit, Olympia. Good. You will need it for what lies ahead. I am Angvard, the god of death and justice. You are my chosen, and I will mold you into a warrior this world needs."

"Yeah, great. Super inspiring. Still waiting for the part where you explain why you plucked me out of oblivion," I shot back.

His grin faded into something more serious. "Your core has been seeded with protection. You can access it, and use it to hide important information, such as your true name and secrets you cannot afford to be accessed, even by vastly powerful magicians. Now, prepare yourself, my new champion. Oh, and next I see you, Olympia, I expect a thank you."

Before I could protest, he snapped his fingers. The smoky realm shattered, and I was flung into a vortex of bright, flashing streaks of light.

When I came to, my body felt strange. I shifted, feeling something heavy and unfamiliar. My hands—or what should have been my hands—pressed against a confining wall. The space around me was stifling, claustrophobic. Panic surged as I pushed and rocked against the barrier.

With a crack, the top gave way. Light flooded in as I broke free, and I stumbled forward, shattering the rest of the shell.

The shell!

I froze, staring at the jagged pieces around me. It was an egg.

I looked down at myself, seeing gleaming purple scales that shimmered like gemstones. Wings—actual wings—stretched out, their membranes a lighter lavender. I was a freaking Dragon! I squeaked in shock, How!

A chuckle drew my attention. I whipped my head around, and my heart nearly stopped.

Standing there, grinning at me like it was the best day of his life, was Mark.

"Hey you," he said, his voice brimming with amusement and warmth.

Was it really Mark?

The moment I laid eyes on him, I knew it was. But this wasn't the Mark I remembered—the scrawny, nervous kid who flinched at loud noises, the boy who hid his bruises and nightmares with a forced smile. No, this Mark was… magnificent. Taller, broader, and exuding a quiet intensity that could silence a room. His golden shoulder length hair shimmered like sunlight on a winter morning, and his piercing blue eyes seemed to see through everything, a reflection of hardships overcome. He had the stance of a warrior, his body sculpted and honed, and his bearing radiated confidence. He looked like a hero out of myth, a young Thor, the movie version.

And he was huge. Even from my awkward, low vantage point, craning my neck like some newborn bird. What the hell had happened to him? How long had he been here? And what was with the armor? A mix of Greek and Roman aesthetics, intricately detailed with swirling patterns of crimson and obsidian, it fit him like a second skin. It screamed power, command, and maybe just a bit of danger.

I turned my attention back to myself. Okay, so I wasn't exactly a hatchling—I was already larger than I expected, more like a young dragon a few weeks old. My scales glimmered in shades of deep amethyst, catching the faint light in dazzling ways, and my wings, a lighter, shimmering lavender, had an ethereal glow. Not bad, I thought. If I were human, I'd say I cleaned up pretty well. The remnants of the egg I'd just shattered lay scattered around me like shards of a broken gemstone. Maybe dragon eggs came in different sizes? Whatever. Back to Mark.

He had noticed me. His gaze softened with recognition and something else—wonder? Reverence? Maybe it was all in my head, but for a moment, it felt like time slowed. His hand moved toward me, palm open, fingers trembling slightly, and I knew instinctively what he wanted: the bond.

A part of me hesitated. I'd always been fiercely independent, wary of letting anyone too close. But Mark? Mark was different. He had always felt like a missing piece of me, a part of my soul I didn't know I needed. And now, as if the universe had decreed it, we were about to become one, an unstoppable force of nature.

I stretched my neck, marveling at how natural it felt, and pressed my snout—yes, my snout—to his palm. The moment our skin met, he let out a guttural yell, his body seizing as if struck by lightning. I pulled back instinctively, panic flaring, but deep down, I knew he'd be fine. I'd read about this, after all. Eragon had passed out bonding with Saphira, hadn't he? The books had barely prepared me for the real thing, though.

Mark collapsed to the ground, his eyes fluttering closed. I moved toward him, my claws clicking softly against the stone floor, and settled beside him. My protective instincts roared to life, sharper and more intense than ever before. He wasn't just my best friend anymore; he was my rider, my other half. And I swore to myself, with every ounce of my newfound being, that no harm would come to him. Not again. I had failed him once before—I wouldn't fail him now.

As he lay unconscious, I turned inward. The bond between us hummed like a river flowing in both directions, an unbreakable link tying our souls together. I tested my new mental faculties, probing the edges of my mind. My memories remained intact, as did my sharp wit and intellect—still a genius, thank you very much. Angvard's words about a "mind core" resurfaced, and I delved deeper, discovering it: a sanctuary within my mind, impenetrable and secure. I carefully tucked away my future knowledge of this world—Alagaësia—and the dangers it faced. Better safe than sorry.

Just as I finished, another presence brushed against my mind. It was vast, ancient, and powerful, filling me with equal parts awe and terror. I had no time to erect defenses before it pushed gently but firmly into my thoughts. A deep, resonant voice spoke: "Greetings, hatchling. You have been chosen as a champion of Lord Angvard, bonded to your rider. Your soul was placed within the dragon egg by his decree, for the bond between you and your rider was deemed strong enough to withstand the trials ahead."

Recognition struck like a lightning bolt. This was the Vault of Souls. And the voice—oh, I knew that voice. "Umaroth," I breathed, the name tumbling from my thoughts with reverence and awe. Crap. Too much information too fast. The ancient dragon paused, clearly intrigued. "You are well-informed, hatchling. How is it you know of me?"

Thinking quickly, I offered a partial truth, revealing that my knowledge of dragons and Eldunarí came from Angvard himself, while conveniently omitting the part about having future knowledge of this world. I even promised not to remove my Eldunarí prematurely—dragons were touchy about that, after all. Umaroth seemed satisfied, his presence receding slightly.

When I mentioned my desire to accelerate my growth—because, let's face it, going through "dragon puberty" sounded like a nightmare—Umaroth hesitated. "No, hatchling, It is an affront to nature," he said, his tone grave. But I pressed on, arguing that I already knew myself and that staying in a hatchling's body would be an unnecessary burden. After a long silence, the Eldunarí collectively agreed, warning me of the potential consequences. "You may not fully understand your body after the changes, hatchling, and its complexities will catch you unaware."

"Yeah, yeah," I replied with a mental grin, "I'll work out the kinks as I go."

Mark stirred then, drawing my attention. About damn time. He opened his eyes, blinking up at me, and smiled. "You're a pretty dragon," he said, reaching out to scratch the base of my spikes. I arched into his touch, a deep rumble escaping my throat—a dragon's purr, I realized. It was bliss, like finding that perfect itch you couldn't quite reach.

Mark laughed softly; his voice filled with wonder. "You and I," he said, "are going to be the best of friends."

I couldn't resist. Nudging the bond between us, I spoke into his mind for the first time: "But little brother, I thought we already were, or have you already replaced me with another?"

His eyes snapped wide open, his mouth falling slack. "O-Olympia?" he stammered, both aloud and through the bond.

Ha ha, Gotcha.

Mark's POV

The revelation hit me like a lightning bolt. "Olympia," I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper as I stared into her radiant, emerald draconic eyes. "How...how are you here? And why on earth are you a dragon—my dragon?" My words stumbled out, full of disbelief and awe. "Not that I'm complaining," I added hastily, my thoughts still a tangled mess of confusion and gratitude.

This was my best friend, the one person from Earth I had truly missed with all my heart. And now, not only was she here in this strange, magical world, but she was a dragon—a majestic, powerful creature—and we were bonded. She was mine, and I was hers. A rush of gratitude filled me, and I sent a silent prayer to Angvard, fully convinced that he was behind this miraculous turn of events.

Through the bond, Olympia's laughter echoed in my mind like a ripple of warmth. Her tone carried that familiar playful edge I'd missed so much. "Well, did you miss me? What kind of trouble have you been getting into?" she teased. "Care to catch me up on what's been going on?"

For the next hour, we traded stories. I recounted everything that had happened since I'd arrived in this world—the battles, the discoveries, the inventions. Olympia listened intently, her mental presence bright and curious. Her amusement practically spilled over our link when I described my airship design.

"Really, Mark? You're a genius from a technologically advanced world, you come here where magic can literally bypass the limits of science, and the first thing you create is a blimp?" She laughed, the sound filling my head like a melody.

I bristled defensively. "It's not a blimp. It's a warship," I shot back, feeling a mix of irritation and affection. I began explaining my upgrade plans, hoping to salvage some dignity, and Olympia quickly jumped in with her own suggestions. One of her ideas? Mounting a railgun on the redesigned airship as the main weapon. Of course. That was classic Olympia—bold, inventive, and just a little insane.

As our minds intertwined through the bond, Olympia began to share her side of the story. Images and emotions flowed into me, vivid and raw. She showed me what had happened to my parents—those monsters who had almost destroyed me. They'd been arrested for my suspected murder after I disappeared. A dark satisfaction settled over me. "Steve deserved it," I muttered mentally. "Pretty sure I would've died from internal bleeding after his beating, if I hadn't jumped."

"Serves them right," Olympia agreed, her tone firm but not unkind. Then she showed me the last moments of her life. I felt every detail—the fire, the fear, the determination as she sacrificed herself to save someone else. The memory hit me like a punch to the gut.

"Wow," I said, my mental voice thick with emotion. "You really went out like a hero." My throat tightened as I continued, "I hope your parents are okay."

In response, Olympia shared another memory—a funeral. It was hers. Her parents were there, mourning her loss with heavy hearts. Though the pain in the memory was palpable, there was also a sense of closure. They knew she was gone, but they could finally grieve and heal.

Before I could process everything, a deep voice echoed through our bond. It was vast, commanding, and filled with ancient wisdom. "Hatchlings, your bonding is complete, you will soon return to the world," Umaroth said, his tone reverberating like a distant storm. "I will remain behind with most of the Eldunarí. We must wait for Eragon, and I do not wish to reveal our presence yet."

The announcement felt like a solemn blessing, a reminder of the great forces at play. I nodded, even though Umaroth couldn't see it. "Thank you, Elda." I said softly.

And then I looked at Olympia, my heart swelling with determination. Whatever challenges lay ahead, I knew one thing for certain: with her by my side, we would face them together, as rider and dragon. As family.

Umaroth's voice filled my mind, resonating like thunder rolling across a vast sky. "We understand, Mark, but we did promise to teach you," he began, his tone firm yet carrying an undeniable warmth. "And so, we shall. Ten of the Eldunarí have volunteered to accompany you on your journey. They will remain hidden with you until it it necessary to reveal our presence. The rest of us will remain here, awaiting the eventual fall of Galbatorix or the arrival of young Eragon and Saphira. Should they face difficulties, we will be here to guide them."

I nodded, both mentally and physically, acknowledging his words. As I absorbed the gravity of what was happening, the Eldunarí who would join us began to introduce themselves. The first was Valinor, a younger female Eldunarí whose energy radiated sharp intellect and vitality. Despite her youth compared to Umaroth, she was a tactical prodigy in aerial combat. Her Eldunarí had was an orange color, with an ethereal glow. Her rider, I learned, had been a master of mental warfare and gifted in magic.

Then came Erukar. He was the complete opposite of Valinor—an elder dragon, almost as old as Umaroth, exuding a quiet, immense power. His knowledge of the ancient language seemed endless, a living archive of wisdom and spells. Both Valinor and Erukar greeted us formally, their voices carrying weight and authority that demanded respect. Olympia and I responded in kind, extending our mental greetings.

Erukar spoke first, his voice like an ancient echo within the vast corridors of my mind. "Young Mark," he said, his tone steady and deliberate, "you promised to train the young Kull, Kargvek, did you not?"

I answered without hesitation, "Yes, Elda, I did."

Erukar's voice deepened, carrying a hint of correction. "No, hatchling. You will address Valinor and me as Ethribili, or Masters in your tongue. We are your teachers now."

Olympia and I responded immediately, our voices synchronized in thought. "Yes, Master."

Satisfied, Erukar continued, his words laced with the wisdom of countless centuries. "You will not train the young Kull alone any longer, Mark."

I opened my mouth to protest, but Erukar pressed on before I could speak. "You will not train him, because Valinor and I will instruct him and his sister, Nadara, alongside you and Olympia. Your vision for Kargvek is noble. He will indeed become a beacon of progress for his people, a bridge to a brighter future, as will his sister, we wish to see this goal achieved too."

The weight of his words sank in, and gratitude swelled in my chest. "Thank you, Master," I replied with sincerity.

Valinor spoke next, her mental voice sharp and commanding, yet tinged with enthusiasm. "Good. Now let us prepare to depart. We cannot train within these confines. We will spend two months training on the island and surrounding area, before returning to Alagaësia to meet the elves."

The plan was clear, and we set about making preparations. At Erukar's instruction, I cast a spell to create a pocket dimension for storing the Eldunarí that would accompany us. As the spell took form, the air around us shimmered like sunlight on water, bending and warping as if the fabric of reality itself had been stitched anew.

The Eldunarí were stunned by the ease with which Olympia and I grasped the concept of bending space, I mean, I grew up on doctor who, so this was a cake walk to understand. Their surprise echoed through the mental link, a chorus of astonishment. When we explained that our knowledge of such principles was theoretical back on Earth, our world, not proven. Their admiration deepened.

Olympia's voice filled my mind, tinged with excitement. "Mark, do you realize what this means? With our understanding of theoretical physics and your mastery of the ancient language, we could become incredibly powerful here."

I nodded internally, the possibilities flashing through both our minds. The potential was staggering.

As we worked, Olympia's curiosity turned to the Kull siblings. "So, who are Nadara and Kargvek?" she asked.

I shared the story of how I'd met them, letting my memories flow through our link. Images of Kargvek's stoic strength and Nadara's fiery spirit unfolded in her mind. When I finished, I added a mental snapshot of Nadara—her striking features, her grace, and the unspoken bond that had grown between us.

Olympia's reaction was immediate. "Damn, Mark," she said, her voice filled with teasing admiration. "Nadara is stunning. She's got that Garona vibe—movie version, not the game. Except, you know, curvier. I can see why you like her."

I sputtered, caught completely off guard. "Oly! It's not like that!" I protested, scrambling for an explanation.

Her laughter rang through our bond, full of mischief. "Oh no, don't you Oly me, you can't lie to me, Mark. I literally felt the tension between you two in that memory. You should just get together already; I can give you pointers if you want."

Her words left me speechless, a mix of embarrassment and reluctant amusement bubbling up inside me. "Wow," I thought, chuckling softly. "I really missed these conversations, Dude."

Once the preparations were complete, and the time to leave the Vault of Souls had arrived. The air in the chamber seemed to hum with an ancient power, the walls of the massive cavern reflecting the faint, otherworldly glow of the Eldunarí. Each one pulsed softly, their presence a chorus of wisdom, strength, and sorrow. The weight of what we were about to leave behind pressed heavily on my heart.

As we stood by the boundary of the vault, Erukar's voice resonated deeply in our minds, like the echo of a distant mountain. "Hatchlings, listen carefully. As soon as we pass beyond the arch, all memory of this place, the eggs, and the Eldunarí will be wiped from our minds. It is a necessary safeguard. Say your goodbyes now, for we will not remember this until Galbatorix is defeated."

His words hit with the gravity of finality. We turned to face Umaroth and the others, who glowed with a serene yet solemn light. My mental voice was filled with sincerity and respect as I said, "Thank you for everything. We won't let your sacrifices be in vain."

Olympia echoed my sentiments, her voice chiming like a silver bell through our shared mental space. "We will honor your gifts and teachings and carry them forward."

Umaroth responded with a calm yet commanding presence. "Go, hatchlings. The future of Alagaësia rests on your shoulders. We will wait."

The atmosphere was thick with emotion as we bade farewell, each Eldunarí radiating their unique warmth as they sent us off. Then, with heavy steps, we began walking toward the arch.

As the edge of the arch's shadow fell over us, I reached out to Olympia mentally. "You know," I said, "because of our mind cores, we won't forget this place. The spell won't work on us."

Olympia hesitated for a moment before responding, her tone curious yet tinged with concern. "So that's how it works. But if that's the case, won't Galbatorix also be able to access this information if he were to breach our minds? The eggs, the Eldunarí—everything?"

I considered her question carefully before replying. "No, he wouldn't. When I first entered the vault, all the Eldunarí attacked my mind, trying to breach it. They couldn't even sense my core, let alone break through. I'm guessing it would be the same for him."

Her mental voice relaxed, her earlier worry fading. "That makes sense, I guess Angvard was right. Then there's nothing to worry about."

We stepped through the arch, and as predicted, the Eldunarí accompanying us lost all memory of the vault. The shift was subtle but unmistakable—a faint veil drawn over their awareness. Valinor's commanding voice broke the silence. "We shall Set up camp outside, a distance from the vault. Place protection spells to shield us from the poison. We will continue from there after you have finished those tasks."

The late afternoon sun greeted us as we exited the vault, casting its golden light over the rocky terrain. The sky was clear, a vibrant blue that seemed to stretch forever. Olympia stepped out beside me, and the sunlight caught her scales, setting them aglow like polished amethysts. Her deep purple scales shimmered with a gem-like radiance, and her eyes, a striking emerald green, reflected the sunlight like pools of light.

Though still young, she was already massive for a recent hatchling, owing to the immense size of her egg. The gap between the spikes on her back, where I would one day ride, was evident but still too small for now. She stretched her wings experimentally, the translucent membranes a lighter shade of purple, almost lavender, with veins crisscrossing through them like fine silver threads.

Her voice rang through my mind, filled with anticipation and longing. "Soon, I'll be flying in the skies, Mark. Just you wait."

I couldn't help but smile at her eagerness. Valinor, in the hidden pocket space nearby, with the rest of the eldunari, instructed us to summon the Kull siblings, Nadara and Kargvek. Nodding, I focused my energy and scried them.

Nadara appeared in the shimmering image; her face etched with surprise as she looked up from what seemed to be the control room of the ship. "Mark?" she asked, her voice cautious but curious.

"Hey Nadara, Can you please bring the ship down," I said. "There is something you and Kargvek need to see."

She hesitated briefly but then nodded. Moments later, the sky above us darkened as the massive wooden airship descended. The vessel was a marvel of ingenuity, a fusion of the fantastical and the practical. Olympia's mental laugh broke my focus.

"Mark," she teased, "this thing looks like you strapped a helium balloon onto a modern battleship made of wood. Seriously, you built this knowing you'd be facing dragons? Really?"

I rolled my eyes, ignoring her playful jab, and focused on the ship as it landed. The cargo bay door creaked open, revealing the dimly lit interior. I had warned Nadara and Kargvek to stay onboard due to the radiation, trusting the ship's enchantments to keep them safe.

As Olympia and I stepped inside, the two siblings emerged from the shadows, their towering forms illuminated by the soft glow of the ship's interior. My thoughts swirled as I looked at them, a strange mix of anticipation and trepidation filling my chest.

"This is going to be interesting," I thought, preparing for what was to come.

As we made our way into the cargo bay, the heavy doors closed behind us with a resonant thud. The air was thick with anticipation as Nadara and Kargvek stepped forward, their expressions quickly shifting from curiosity to shock as they caught sight of Olympia. They froze mid-step, their eyes widening in unison before they exchanged incredulous glances.

Nadara was the first to find her voice. "Mark, is that—" she hesitated, as if needing to confirm the impossibility of what she was seeing, "—a dragon? She's... beautiful." Her voice was tinged with awe, her usual sharp confidence softened by wonder. "Where did you find her? And where did you go?" Her brows furrowed as confusion clouded her face. "I don't remember you ever leaving for the island." Okay that was strange, then I remembered that the Eldunarí cast a forgetful enchantment on the island.

Olympia's mental voice cut in smoothly, her tone laced with curiosity. "It's the magic of the island at work, at least we do not have to worry about Galbatorix digging it out of their heads."

I nodded in agreement, but the mystery of that particular enchantment seemed unimportant compared to what lay ahead. "Where I was doesn't matter," I said firmly, my voice steady and deliberate. "What matters is that I'm now a Dragon Rider."

Kargvek let out a low grunt, and Nadara gasped, her demeanor shifting from skepticism to reverence. Their astonishment quickly gave way to congratulations, their words tumbling out in a mixture of admiration and excitement. Nadara's eyes practically sparkled as she looked at Olympia.

With a small smile, I extended my hand toward the dragoness. "Nadara, Kargvek, this is Olympia, My best friend and Dragon." Her name seemed to roll off my tongue with a weight of pride and gratitude.

Both of them greeted her with respect, bowing slightly as if acknowledging royalty. Olympia responded gracefully, inclining her head and speaking directly to them with her rich mental voice. "It's an honor to meet you both. I've heard much about you."

Their lack of surprise at her telepathic communication was curious but understandable; spending time around Saphira would've lessened the shock. Still, I noticed Olympia engaging Nadara in a private mental conversation, shutting me out. Nadara's expression shifted from nervous to amused, her lips curling into a knowing smile.

"What was that about?" I asked, narrowing my eyes suspiciously.

Olympia's voice rang in my mind, full of mischief. "Oh, nothing much. Just some girl talk."

I groaned inwardly but decided not to press the issue. Instead, I turned back to my companions, my tone growing serious. "There's something I need you both to do." Without waiting for their response, I instructed them to swear oaths of secrecy in the Ancient Language. Their loyalty was unquestionable, but the stakes demanded certainty. After reciting the words I provided, they swore their oaths, their voices steady with conviction.

With that done, I introduced them to the Eldunarí. As Erukar and Valinor interacted with them from their pocket space. The introductions were formal but warm, with Erukar leading the way. His thoughts resonated in all our minds like an ancient melody.

"We will teach you, hatchlings," Erukar began, his tone both commanding and nurturing. "Nadara, Kargvek, we will teach you, alongside Mark and Olympia, you too will be our students. Mark made a promise to train you, Kull hatchling and we shall honor it. You two will learn not only the art of combat but also history, culture, and knowledge to make you a well-rounded warrior."

Valinor's mental voice followed, regal and authoritative. "You all will be our students. While it is unusual for the Riders to train non-Riders, these times are anything but ordinary. Allies like you will be crucial in the battles to come."

A chorus of agreement filled the room as we all nodded and voiced our assent. The gravity of the moment settled heavily over us, but there was no hesitation.

Valinor turned her attention to me. "Mark, we are aware of your training with Brom and your proficiency in spell craft and swordsmanship. We will deepen your understanding of the Ancient Language, how to fight stronger magicians than you, and teach you the intricate politics and histories of this land. You are already a formidable warrior, but there is still room for improvement"

To Olympia, she added, "You, hatchling, will learn the ways of our kind—our culture, our responsibilities, and how to master your body as it grows. We will accelerate your growth to match your soul's age, as you have requested."

My eyes widened in alarm. "Wait, what? I thought it was forbidden to speed up a dragon's growth with magic."

Valinor inclined her head. "Under normal circumstances, yes. But Olympia's soul is old, I believe she was older than you, no? And she is trapped in a hatchling's body. Exceptions must be made."

Nadara and Kargvek exchanged puzzled looks, and I held up a hand. "I'll explain later, I promise."

With that, our teachers outlined the grueling schedule that awaited us. Training in the Ancient Language and spell craft for me; cultural and physical lessons for Olympia; combat and scholarly studies for Nadara and Kargvek. And beyond that, there were monumental tasks: gathering bright steel from space, forging weapons and armor, and preparing for battles against Galbatorix, Murtagh, and unknown future threats.

The weight of it all was daunting, but as I glanced at Olympia's gleaming scales and the determined faces of my friends, I felt a surge of resolve. We would face the chaos together—and we would prevail.