I do not own any part of the Harry Potter or Eragon universes.

Artemis ascended higher and higher, until she unfurled her wings fully, embracing the vast expanse of the sky. Arya extended her arms, relishing the caress of the sun's warmth upon her skin. After enduring an extended period beneath the confines of the mountain, all of them revelled in the freedom of the open skies.

Startled by a piercing screech, Harry instinctively gazed upwards. His heart sank as his eyes beheld the sight before him. A cloud drifted across the sun, allowing him to discern the beings soaring overhead. The creatures soaring above bore no resemblance to dragons, nor did he think they were the same creatures utilized by the Ra'zac for flying.

These creatures, approximately twenty feet in length, possessed elongated tails and wings adorned with leathery membranes. While they bore a resemblance to dragons, their bodies appeared smaller, more slender, and serpentine in nature, in stark contrast to Artemis's form.

Their scales lacked the shimmering brilliance of Artemis's, instead reminding Harry of the basilisk's green, scaly hide.

"The dwarves refer to them as Fanghur, they are incredible rare these days," Arya explained, securing her arms around Harry's waist as Artemis angled into the updraft, rapidly ascending in altitude.

The Fanghur now lay beneath them. Through their bond, Harry sensed Artemis's yearning.

"Go for it," he encouraged. Artemis heard his words, and Harry could feel her excitement intensifying. Wearing a smirk, he turned to Arya. "Hold on tightly. Artemis is about to show you the proper way to fly!"

"What do you-" Arya's words caught in her throat as Artemis folded her wings against her body and soared towards the Fanghur.

Artemis's lips twisted into a snarl, exposing her razor-sharp ivory teeth. Emitting a mighty roar, she burst through their formation, boldly challenging the creatures. Startled and infuriated, the Fanghur cried out, yet they accepted Artemis's provocation.

Surprisingly swift, they gave chase, trailing Artemis through the skies. Sensing the tension, Arya tightened her grip on Harry as Artemis folded her right wing, allowing one of the creatures to pass overhead. The remaining two hissed menacingly, attempting to flank them from either side.

However, Artemis unfurled her wings and, with two powerful beats, skilfully evaded them both. As they soared through the air, a memory resurfaced in Artemis's mind, one that Harry had shared with her from his early days of playing Quidditch.

Amidst a sea of sombre grey clouds, Harry and Arya braced themselves as Artemis unexpectedly unfurled her wings. Harnessing the force of the wind, their flight swiftly decelerated, giving the illusion of hovering suspended in the sky. The collective experience evoked a feeling of tranquillity and time seemingly stood still, as if the world itself held its breath in awe.

Moments later, the Fanghur burst through the cloud cover, and Artemis inclined forward. Drawing her wings tightly against her body, she descended rapidly towards the ground. The wind whipped through Harry's hair as the exhilaration surged within him, causing his blood to pound in his ears.

Harry glanced back and caught sight of Arya. Amidst the exhilarating flight, strands of ebony hair had escaped from her tightly woven braid, now playfully dancing in the wind. Her eyes, beautifully slanted, widened with a captivating sparkle, radiating pure excitement in that breathtaking moment.

The earth grew nearer with each passing second, and Artemis continued her daring descent. The pursuing creatures trailed after them, but eventually deemed the pursuit too perilous, breaking away from the freefall.

As they approached the river ahead of them, Harry's gaze fixed on the shimmering fish below the surface. Just before it seemed they would make contact with the water, Artemis swiftly spread her wings, gracefully aligning their flight just above the river's surface.

She turned her body and let loose a resounding roar, unleashing a scorching white flame from her maw. As the daughter of the sky, she proudly displayed her prowess to those who aspired to be dragons. The Fanghur had turned away from them.

Arya and Harry exchanged astonished glances, their eyes wide with amazement. Then, Harry burst into uncontrollable laughter, and Arya joined in, their mirth echoing through the air.

"That was incredible! I never imagined flying could be this much fun," Arya exclaimed, her smile radiant with joy. It was a rare sight to see her genuinely savouring the moment.

Her laughter resounded, pure and melodious, like the trilling of a mockingbird. It stirred something within Harry as he observed her radiant eyes and listened to the enchanting sound.

Moments later, Saphira caught up with them, joining in their airborne journey. The laughter erupted once more when they heard Orik's boisterous swearing.

After traveling a significant distance, the group had left the last trading post of the dwarves in the east, Hedarth, in their wake. Their exhilarating flight with the Fanghur had further energized them for the journey ahead. Now, they would continue their journey, tracing the path of the river Edda, that would eventually lead them to the Eldor, a lake, nestled along the borders to the east of Du Weldenvarden.

As they approached the forest mid-flight, Harry realized just how vast Du Weldenvarden was. He made out maples, beeches, and oaks stretching out before them like a sea of ancient trees. The maps provided by Jeod truly failed to capture the scale of it all. It was a reminder to Harry of how much more meaningful it was to witness something firsthand, with his own eyes.

When they stepped beyond the trees, Harry closed his eyes briefly, his skin tingling as he felt the magic washing over him from the concealed power behind those ancient trees. He rubbed his arms, savouring the enchanting sensation that enveloped him.

Exhausted from their long flight, the group had gathered around the crackling fire. Orik had already retired to his tent for the night, leaving the remaining members of the group to find solace in the comforting warmth of the fire's embrace.

Amidst the gentle crackle of the flames, Harry used his knife to skilfully sharpen an oversized toothpick from a small branch. "Perhaps this will do the trick," he murmured, rising to his feet.

"Say Ah!" Harry playfully exclaimed, causing the others to watch with amusement as he deftly dodged Artemis's swaying tail. "Harry, can you be serious for once?" Artemis retorted, while she was glaring at him.

Her eyes widened in fright. "No, don't you dare!"

Harry tilted his head, a mischievous smile forming on his lips. "I find it appalling that, Artemis, that you still don't know my name. After all our travels across Alagaёsia, I had assumed you knew it by now. Sirius was my godfather, and my name is Harry!"

Artemis exhaled air through her nostrils, then muttered to herself, "Why did my dragon rider have to be such an idiot," before she opened her mouth for him.

"Wow, it's nice to know I'm appreciated," He chuckled, pretending to be mock-offended, but his eyes twinkled with amusement.

He continued to chuckle and examined her teeth until he discovered the source of the problem. "Aha! I found it," he exclaimed loudly.

Relieved, Artemis closed her mouth, no longer feeling the lingering remnants of food between her teeth. Harry tapped her with a smile gently on the nose, who in response glared back at him and then rejoined the others by the comforting warmth of the fire.

Arya sat with her arms wrapped tightly around her knees, her attention drawn upward as Harry joined them by the fire.

"Before we reach Ellesméra," Arya declared firmly, her voice unwavering and her gaze unyielding, "it is imperative that both of you acquire certain knowledge. We cannot afford any embarrassment or displays of ignorance."

She leaned in slightly, emphasizing the importance of her words. "Ellesméra is a place of great wisdom and ancient traditions. The elves hold their customs and rituals in high regard, and it is crucial that you both familiarize yourselves with their ways."

Arya's stern expression softened slightly as she continued, "I don't say this to burden you, but rather to prepare you for the journey ahead. Both of you are the first humans to be welcomed in Ellesméra after the Fall, and I want you to be respected and accepted by my people."

While Harry was listening, he stared into the crackling flames, and his mind wandered back to the memory of Hagrid leading him into the bustling Leaky Cauldron for the first time.

The unknown wizards and witches had swarmed around him from all directions, eager to greet him after Hagrid had boisterously announced his arrival. He had been passed around like a prize, countless individuals seeking to shake his hand, express their gratitude, or simply engage in conversation.

He sighed inwardly as he remembered how overwhelmed he was with the whole situation at the time. He looked down at his hand and tried to stop his hand from shaking, but he couldn't do it. He kept staring at his hand, reading the feint words that were itched deeply into his skin.

I must not tell lies.

A whirlwind of pain and panicking thoughts was suddenly interrupted by the touch of warm scales. Artemis rested her head on his hands in his lap, concealing the words from his view. Her blue eyes looked up to him in concern, but he shook his head and smiled at her.

"I am fine," he said softly to her, and Artemis was relived to feel through their bond, that the dark memories had disappeared from him.

She nudged him with her head up and his eyes found Arya's who was looking at him.

"What should we know?" Harry asked, his hand moving gently in circles to caress Artemis between her eyes.

Arya's gaze fixed on Eragon's helm, the gift from Hrothgar, that was resting at his feet.

"Throughout my time with the Varden, I've noticed that humans and dwarves share strikingly similar beliefs and passions. This is why in Farthen Dûr, humans and dwarves coexist harmoniously, their cultures complementing each other," she remarked and nodded towards Orik's tent.

Harry nodded thoughtfully, having observed a similar bond between the Varden and Dwarven soldiers. "That's also a crucial reason why dwarves accept humans in Farthen Dûr. However, elves are distinctly different from both humans and dwarves," Arya continued.

Eragon furrowed his eyebrows, "You speak as if you are not an elf yourself."

This unintentional remark caused Eragon lower his gaze when Arya's cold eyes turned towards him. Taking a deep breath to regain her composure, Arya explained, "In a way, you are right. My extensive time spent among the Varden has familiarized me with their traditions."

Arya's gaze remained fixed on the helm given to Eragon by Hrothgar, which lay at his feet. She briefly glanced towards the tent where Orik was sleeping.

"Orik may deny it, but during my many years with the Varden, I have observed the striking similarities between your two races," Arya stated. "It was not uncommon, before the Fall, for humans and dwarves to coexist in cities. Humans and dwarves experience love, desire, hatred, conflict, and develop their cultures in similar ways. Your friendship with Orik is a testament to that."

Eragon furrowed his brow. "Is it truly so unusual for elves and dwarves to be friends? And what about your friendship with Baldr? Do you not see him as a friend?"

"I have spent a significant amount of time among the Varden, adapting to their customs," Arya replied, her tone sharp. "Baldr and I may be friends, but it has taken us many years to reach this point."

"Friendships do not always have to be based on similarities. They can also thrive on differences," Harry interjected, thinking of his own friendship with Hermione and Ron.

Eragon shook his head. "You are telling me that elves are different than humans, but how? Are you suggesting that elves have different emotions than humans and dwarves? I find that hard to imagine. All living beings share the same fundamental needs and desires."

"That is not what I intended to say!" Arya retorted, her gruff tone a deviating from her usual composure. Even during their encounter with Gannel in Tarnag, she had remained composed.

"Eragon," Harry spoke up after a moment. "Not all living beings share the same basic needs or seek happiness as you and I."

He leaned forward to grab a small rock no bigger than his fist and tapped it with his wand, "Avifors!"

At once, the rock turned into a little sparrow with red feathers that fluttered around their heads. Harry smiled as it perched on Arya's shoulder, playing with her hair in the gentle breeze.

Arya extended her hand, gently stroking the sparrow's head, eliciting joyful chirps.

"Eragon, imagine you are that sparrow now. What would be the most important thing for you?" Harry prompted.

Eragon contemplated for a moment before answering. As one of the few in Carvahall who dared to hunt in the Spine, he had spent much of his time studying the animals he encountered. Otherwise, he would not have become a good hunter.

"Finding food," he responded with confidence.

Harry nodded approvingly. "You're right. It doesn't matter if it's a sparrow, human or dragon. We're not very different in that respect. So, what makes you different from the sparrow?"

Eragon scrunched his nose in thought. Why was Harry asking him those questions? In his life as a farmer, he had never had to think about these things. If he had asked his uncle such questions, Eragon would probably have spent the whole day out in the field.

"We can talk," Eragon finally said, considering the question for a moment.

As soon as he uttered those words, Saphira withdrew her tail, causing Eragon to lose his balance and fall backward onto the ground.

"Saphira seems to have a different opinion than you," Harry snorted. "No, what separates us from ordinary animals is reason," he continued.

"Reason gives us the ability to make decisions based on our experiences, knowledge, and understanding of the world around us. Animals may have instincts that guide their behaviour, but our reasoning allows us to reflect on past memories, to learn from them, and make informed choices about our future actions."

Arya nodded thoughtfully, her gaze on the fire as she took in Harry's words.

"Reason is a powerful tool that gives us the ability for self-awareness and critical thinking. It allows us to analyse situations, weigh the consequences of our actions, and even anticipate possible outcomes that could affect us and others. Our ability to reason affects our emotions and shapes how we respond to different circumstances," Harry continued.

"Obviously, not everyone possesses full capability in this regard. Otherwise, we wouldn't be in this situation. It's a skill that we must learn and develop through practice," he explained. "And not everyone is able to reflect on his past actions. It involves questioning oneself. A skill that Galbatorix most likely lacks, as well as others."

He then pointed to the sparrow, still perched on Arya's shoulder, its chirping echoing softly in the night air. "Even this little creature, however instinctive, can experience emotions such as fear, joy and curiosity. However, his range of emotions is limited compared to ours and his decisions are primarily guided by survival instincts."

Eragon leaned forward, his interest piqued. "So, you're saying that our emotions and our thinking are intertwined and affect how we experience happiness?"

"Exactly," Harry confirmed. "Our ability to reason allows us to understand happiness on a deeper level. It's not just about meeting basic needs or desires; it's about understanding our emotions, recognizing what brings us fulfilment and finding meaning in our lives. That is happiness."

Arya added, "And different cultures, such as elven, human, and dwarven, have their own perspectives on happiness and the means to achieve it."

Harry waved his wand in a small circle, and together they watched the earth rise and quickly formed a house-elf, its tennis ball-sized eyes reminiscent of an old acquaintance.

Confusion filled Eragon's eyes as he asked, "What is that?"

"It's a house-elf," Harry explained. "At least, that's what they were called in my world. I don't know their exact origin, but many of them served wizards and witches. They were fiercely loyal and obedient to their masters' commands."

Eragon's eyes widened, and Arya leaned forward in anticipation. "Were they slaves?" Eragon questioned.

Harry sighed, memories of Dobby's lifeless eyes resurfacing. "The wizards and witches would argue otherwise, but yes, they were. There was only one house-elf I knew who didn't serve a master, and his name was Dobby. He was a good friend even if he was a little crazy."

Artemis snorted next to him. "A little is an understatement."

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Harry refocused. "But that's beside the point. What I'm trying to say, is that house-elves find joy in following orders. In their own peculiar way, it brought them their own happiness."

Eragon responded sarcastically, "So, you're suggesting if I want to find happiness, I become Galbatorix's servant?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Did you not listen, earlier? What I meant is that while the needs of humans, dwarves, and elves may be similar, the way they find happiness can differ based on their respective cultures. If you want to insult a house-elf, telling them to stop working would be a surefire way to do it."

Arya nodded in agreement. "Eragon, you could offer every human and dwarf a vein of gold, and they would be thrilled, but in Du Weldenvarden, you will encounter many elves who have no interest in such material possessions. You'll be amazed at how different cultures can be, especially when they're shaped by magic."

Eragon remained deep in thought for a few moments. "How do elves differ from us then?" he asked.

Arya took a deep breath and started to explain.

"Elves, unlike humans, have significantly longer lifespans, which places great importance on the virtue of courtesy. We cannot afford to cause offense, as grudges can be held for decades or even centuries. Courtesy serves as a preventive measure, minimizing the accumulation of hostility. Though it may not always be successful, we adhere strictly to our rituals as they safeguard us from extreme conflicts. Additionally, elves are not as fertile, making it crucial for us to avoid internal conflicts," Arya explained, reclining, and gazing at the expansive night sky.

Harry scratched his head in thoughts. It seemed he was about to meet his personally worst enemy: Politics.

"Words and politics are just clever ways of expressing dislike without others realizing it," Artemis countered in his mind.

"I'm quite adept at making people dislike me, but unfortunately, I'm not very good at not them noticing part. I am rather blunt about it," Harry admitted dryly.

She snorted and a whiff of smoke escaped her nostrils. "I know."

A smile flickered across Arya's lips.

"There are particular patterns and forms that both of you must observe when presented to Queen Islanzadí, and a hundred different manners in which to greet those around you," Arya explained.

Eragon put his hand in front of his head in desperation. "With all your customs, it seems as though you have only made it easier to offend people."

A gleam of amusement appeared in her eyes. "Maybe. Both of you know as well as I do that once you enter Ellesméra, every step and action you two take will be subject to scrutiny and testing. If you encounter situations where you're uncertain how to respond, it's better to say nothing and be considered rude but competent rather than rude and incompetent. Otherwise, the elves will think you did it on purpose, and that is the worst that could happen, because we have a rather good memory," she explained.

"Our politics move in cycles that are both subtle and lengthy," she continued."

"What you see or hear of an elf one day may only be a slight move in a strategy that reaches back millennia and may have no bearing how that elf will behave tomorrow. It is a game that we all play but very few control, a game that both of you are about to enter."

Arya stood and dusted her hands. "Now perhaps you realize why I say elves are not like other races. The dwarves are also long-lived, yet they are more productive than us and do not share our restraint or our taste for intrigue."

Artemis rested her head on his lap, he could feel her determination for him to learn as much as possible to avoid such pitfalls.

"I hope we can find a home there," Artemis expressed her desire. "Carvahall was never my home because I always had to hide myself and the dwarves were simply rude. I hope this time it is different," she said quietly to him.

Harry's eyes softened, and with a tender touch, he caressed her cheek, saying, "The future may be uncertain, but we'll embrace it with open hearts. Who knows what wonders await us?"

Arya then suggested they make themselves comfortable, as the learning process would take time. She proceeded to instruct them on the proper way for two elves to greet each other, which one should speak first, and demonstrated how they should behave when meeting Queen Islanzadí.

Hours had passed, and Harry felt exhausted and overwhelmed trying to recall the various greetings for different individuals—children, women, and men. It was like the was back at Hogwarts. Arya had done her best to explain the essentials to both Harry and Eragon during that time.

As the night grew late, Eragon declared his intention to go to bed, and Harry yearned to do the same. However, Arya appeared and tapped on his shoulder and Harry would have been startled if he hadn't heard the sudden rustle of grass helmets.

He looked at her questioningly, but her mind touched his and she said, "Follow me as silently as you can."

Within him, Artemis kept a close watch on his progress, ready to his side if need be. She knew Arya and Harry would be capable of fighting any enemies that would appear, but too much had happened in the last months that she always felt restless, when he was apart from her.

Harry swiftly rose and together they walked through the lightly wooded area until Arya halted in a narrow clearing. The moon's soft glow filtered through the branches, casting a silvery sheen on her black hair.

"I must say, I didn't expect you to be this knowledgeable," Arya admitted to him.

Harry snorted with amusement. "Believe me, I'm not. I just happened to have a really bright friend, and I happened to listen to her once or twice," he replied, giving credit to the source of his knowledge with a playful grin.

She tilted her head to the side. "I apologize for keeping you awake, Harry, knowing how exhausted you must be, but I'd like to revisit your promise from Tarnag," Arya said, sitting cross legged on to the ground where they settled on the cold grass facing each other.

Harry nodded in answer. "But before we get to that, how are you, Arya?"

In the darkness he could barely see it, but her beautiful eyes narrowed on him.

"What exactly do you mean?" she asked in a sharp tone.

"We didn't have time to talk about it while we were in Tarnag, but are you still feeling the aftermath of the Cruciatus curse?" Harry asked her.

Arya's tense shoulders relaxed, while she gazed into Harry's worried face.

"Oh," she said. "I thought you wanted to ask something else," she said so quietly, he could barely hear her voice over the rustling of the leaves.

Her lips then curled up in a small smile. "No, I've only had one incident since we left Farthen Dûr and not a single one since we were in Tarnag. I hope it means the side effects of the spell are over."

Harry smiled in relief. "I am glad then. I do not wish this on anyone and wanted to make sure that you are alright."

Arya nodded but remained silent for a moment. She looked at Harry with a blank expression, leaving him wondering if she would still say anything at all.

But to his surprise, she leaned back, placing her arms behind her head and gazing upward. However, the dense branches above only allowed the faint moonlight to filter through, obscuring the stars from her view.

As she felt the grass move beside her, she tilted her head to see Harry laying down beside her. A smile spread across her lips as she watched him point his wand skyward. With a flick of his wand, the branches receded, granting them an unobstructed view of the stars.

"I feel like I owe you an apology, Harry."

Harry furrowed his brow and rolled onto his side, propping his head up with one arm. "How come?"

"I haven't been very accommodating to Artemis and you since we left Tarnag. I've been too busy with my own thoughts, even though I know how difficult the situation you are in right now is. I want to apologize for that." Arya said softly.

Harry laid back on the ground and looked up at the twinkling stars. "Artemis and I noticed something was off, but we didn't want to pressure you for answers."

He snorted and let out a chuckle. "I always hated it, when people came to me and pushed me for answers that I didn't have or wasn't willing to give. I accept your apology, even if it wasn't necessary."

"Can I ask you what's been bothering you?" he asked hesitantly.

Arya closed her eyes but then sighed, "I am afraid, Harry."

Harry turned his head to look at her, only to find her eyes tightly shut.

"What are you afraid of?" he whispered gently.

"To return to Ellesmera. I don't know what's waiting for me," Arya replied, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Harry furrowed his brow. "Why is that?" he asked, genuinely curious.

Arya opened her eyes and turned to face him directly. Both of them now met eye to eye.

Arya spoke hesitantly, her voice carrying the weight of past memories. "When I left Ellesmera, I was young and full of fiery determination to fight Galbatorix," she explained.

"Staying in Du Weldenvarden, learning spells, while knowing that the one who had caused the deaths of countless elves, humans, and dragons was lurking outside our home, ready to conquer my people, was unbearable," Arya said.

Her throat twitched, and she blinked, the emotion evident in her eyes. "I didn't want my father's actions to be meaningless," Arya confessed quietly, her voice filled with a mix of determination and sadness.

Harry averted his gaze, and for a moment, both of them stood in silence.

"Seventy years have passed since I embraced the Yawё, and for twenty years, I have carried Saphira's egg across Alagaёsia, hoping it would hatch for someone someday. Throughout all this time, I haven't seen my family," Arya said softly.

Harry could sense the conflict within her, the desire to confront her past and the fear of what she might find when she returned to Ellesméra.

"Seventy years..." Harry whispered, contemplating the passage of time and the sacrifices Arya had made. "That's a long time to be away from your family and your home."

Arya nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "It is. But I had a duty to fulfil, a responsibility to protect the dragon egg and preserve hope for the future of the new dragon riders."

"I understand how you feel," Harry said gently. "The fear of the unknown can be daunting but remember that you are not the same person you were all those years ago. You've grown, you've endured, and you've become stronger. And even if things have changed, that doesn't diminish the significance of your past or the love you once shared with your family."

"I hope you're right," Arya said, her voice tinged with both hope and doubt. "Sometimes, I fear that I've become a stranger to them, that the time apart has created an insurmountable distance."

"Time may have passed, but love endures," Harry reassured her. "The people who truly care for you will understand the sacrifices you've made and the reasons behind your choices. And if there's any chance to reconnect with your family, I believe it's worth trying. You never know how they might react until you give it a chance."

Arya's gaze softened, and she squeezed his hand appreciatively. "Thank you, Harry. Your words mean more to me than you know."

"You're welcome," Harry replied warmly. "And if you ever need someone to talk to, to lean on, I'm here for you."

"And should the occasion arise, Artemis and I won't hesitate to give someone a friendly head-bumping session until they see reason again! We prefer peaceful solutions, but hey, a little nudge in the right direction never hurt anyone, right?" Harry winked at her, while Arya couldn't help but snort at the playful remark.

Arya rolled onto her side, her gaze fixed on Harry with anticipation.

"You know," she said with a weary smile, "we've covered so much ground in our conversation that we seem to have forgotten why we came here in the first place." Talking to Harry had brought her comfort, and in this moment, she felt a sense of relaxation she hadn't experienced in a long time.

"Right," Harry said, sitting up. "You wanted to know how Baldr, and I managed to get past the dwarves in Tarnag," he recalled and tilted his head to the side.

Arya sat up as well and watched as Harry lifted his mysterious pouch.

He reached under his shirt and retrieved his pouch, sticking his hand inside. Arya shook her head in amusement as half of his arm seemed to disappear into the small pouch, from which he pulled out a flowing silver fabric and placed it on his lap.

"What is that?" she asked, intrigued by the unusual fabric. It seemed to gleam in the moonlight.

Harry grinned, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "This, my dear Arya, is the key to how I managed to hide Baldr and myself from the angry dwarves at Tarnag." He held out the fabric for her to see.

Arya held the cloak in her hands, marvelling at its lightness and the sensation of water woven into silk. As she covered her hands with the cloak, she gasped softly, witnessing them vanish from sight.

"What is this?" she exclaimed in amazement. The exhaustion from their previous conversation faded away, replaced by pure curiosity and wonder.

With a warm smile, Harry took the cloak again and draped it over himself, leaving only his head visible, making it look as if his head was floating in the clearing. Intrigued, Arya reached forward and confirmed with her fingers that the cloak was indeed there. She could literally feel the magic between her fingers, and it felt warm to the touch, igniting a sense of wonder within her.

"That's how you managed to get past the guards in Tarnag," she said, amused.

Harry nodded. "Yes, and it also allowed me to enter the prison at Gil'ead undetected."

With a playful laugh, he handed Arya the cloak. Excitement lit up her eyes as she wrapped it around herself, marvelling as her body vanished from view.

"This is incredible," she exclaimed.

"There's a children's story about this particular cloak. I can tell you more about it later if you're interested," Harry offered, and Arya nodded eagerly, her curiosity piqued. The prospect of learning more about the cloak's origins and its magical tales intrigued her.

As the cloak enveloped Arya, she couldn't contain her excitement, feeling as if she'd stepped into a realm of pure wonder. Harry's smile mirrored her emotions, remembering his own awe when first encountering the Invisibility Cloak. However, Arya knew better than to get carried away by its potential.

While the cloak could aid them in their mission to retrieve the last dragon eggs from Galbatorix, she couldn't ignore the risks it posed. The thought of such a potent artifact falling into the wrong hands made her shudder, especially in the hands of someone as malevolent as Galbatorix.

As she handed Harry back the cloak, she looked at him with concern.

"The cloak has been passed down in my family for countless generations, and my pouch is protected in such a way that only someone with my blood can access it. No one else but me can retrieve it."

Seeing Arya's disbelieve, he handed it out to her. She accepted the pouch sceptically and cautiously attempted to reach inside. To her amazement, she encountered an invisible barrier preventing her from entering the inside of the pouch.

With a relieved smile, Arya returned the pouch to Harry. "Be careful, though. It's best to keep it a secret that you possess it. The cloak could prove to be extremely dangerous if the enemy gets his hands on it."

Harry rolled his eyes playfully. "I know, but I promise to be careful."

"Good," Arya smiled, and reached upwards with her hand. It looked like she was trying to grab the stars only to then clench her fist. Arya went deep within herself and called forth on her magic.

"Gath Kvïstr."

The branches of the trees that were pushed afar from Harry earlier, slowly moved in front of the twinkling stars until neither she nor Harry could see the night sky.

Before they got to their camp, Harry turned to her once more. He asked her something that had been on his mind all night. "Arya, what happened to your father?"

For a moment Harry thought she wasn't going to answer as she walked past him, but then he heard her voice.

"He was killed by Galbatorix."

As dusk approached, the sun's faint light added a sombre touch to the forest, reminiscent of the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts.

The group had agreed earlier to walk the rest of the day without taking a break. Among the trees they were hidden from sight, but it also meant, that they no longer could fly.

Orik, who was upset about the last flight, eagerly agreed to it. So it was that Harry and Artemis stood in a forest clearing, anticipating their encounter with the elves as they had entered the elves' domain and were close to one of their hidden cities, Ceris.

Suddenly, a heavy thud interrupted Harry's thought, as Artemis, overcome with excitement, accidentally hit him with her swinging tail. Rubbing the side of his head, he couldn't help but grumble, "Watch out where you are swinging that tail."

Artemis turned her head toward him, her white scales reflecting the sunlight similar to the frozen tips of mountains. "What's wrong with you? Aren't you excited to meet the elves?" she exclaimed.

"Of course, I am! But It's not me I am worried about."

Harry didn't answer her question immediately; his attention was drawn to Arya, who appeared tense, standing a little distance away. Seeing this, Artemis walked over to Arya and nudged her shoulder with her snout, offering comfort.

Arya seemed startled at first, but her gaze softened as she felt the dragon's gentle nudging. She reached out her hand and began to pet Artemis, who hummed softly under the caresses.

Harry eventually approached them, and when Arya turned to face him, he asked, "Are you ready to go home?"

Arya sighed softly. "Truthfully I don't know. I have been away for too long to truly feel at home. Please wait here."

Harry and Artemis watched as Arya moved forward, standing alone in the midst of the lush grass.

"Come forth, my brethren! You have nothing to fear. It is I, Arya of Ellesméra. My companions are friends and allies; they mean no harm," she called out in the ancient language.

For minutes, nothing happened except the soft growling of Orik and a black owl gliding through the night. Then, Harry faintly heard a response in the ancient language, carried through the leaves like a gentle breeze. Arya replied, and suddenly, his ears detected the soft rustle of leaves and the crackle of small branches.

"Look up," Artemis whispered to him.

Out of nowhere, two elves appeared at the edge of the forest, and he saw two more elves perched in the branches of an ancient oak tree.

"That's exactly how I pictured elves," Harry remarked with awe. If he ever saw a house-elf again, he would apologize to them. All four elves wore green and brown doublets, with flowing cloaks fastened at their shoulders with brooches.

Before Harry could react, the elves gracefully jumped from the trees and embraced Arya, laughing joyfully. The sound of their laughter was enchanting, and Harry found himself entranced by it. He could have listened to their laughter forever.

The sun had disappeared as night fell and a gust of wind swept through, causing the moonlight to break through the clouds, casting its gentle glow upon Artemis and Saphira. Startled, one of the elves cried out in alarm, prompting the others to raise their weapons defensively.

Arya quickly positioned herself between the elves and her companions.

"Don't attack them! They are our friends!"

Instinctively Harry stepped forward and removed his glove. He held his hand out for them, revealing the glowing mark of the Gedwёy Ignasia in the moonlight and said, as he once had to Arya so long ago.

"Eka Fricai un Shur'tugal," I am a rider and friend. He remembered what Arya had taught them yesterday and touched his lips, adding, "Atra esterní ono thelduin."

The elves' faces brightened even more. "Come! Come!" the elves called out, waving them over.

Amidst the commotion, Harry couldn't help but stifle a laugh when he heard Orik grumbling under his breath. "By Gûntera, what have I gotten myself into?"

Harry playfully slapped Orik on the shoulder. "Something no dwarf has experienced for at least a century. Be proud of it, Orik."

Orik nodded, accepting the truth. "You're right, Harry. Come on, let's follow the elves before they lose us."

Following the elves at night proved challenging, but whenever any of them seemed to stray, the elves would show them the way, guiding them through the darkness.

Eventually, they arrived at a campsite, where a fire crackled, casting long shadows among the trees. Three small wooden huts were clustered around the trunk of a thick oak tree, while a watchman's platform loomed high in the branches.

Harry sat on the edge of the fire, leaning against Artemis, who lay behind him. Together, they watched with amusement as the elves joyfully fetched fruits and vegetables from the huts, preparing them for the meal.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Harry turned to the elves and asked, "What are your names?"

A dark-haired elf pointed to himself and replied, "I am Lifaen of the house of Rílvenar. My companions here are Edurna, Celdin, and Narí."

In no time, the food was ready, and Harry gratefully accepted the plate handed to him by Celdin. Arya joined him by the fire as Lifaen produced a set of reed pipes, playing a melodic tune that flowed through the night air.

As Lifaen played the reed pipes, his companion Narí joined in with his melodious singing. The enchanting harmony of the pipes and the elf's voice created a magical atmosphere around the campfire, filling the night with a beautiful and haunting melody.

Saphira let out a quiet snort, clearly tired from the long journey. Eragon, not wanting to disturb his partner's rest, approached Harry with a question.

"Harry?" Eragon spoke softly, his voice barely above a whisper. He did not want the others to hear him. "When we entered the forest earlier... did you feel the magic too? As we went deeper, it felt like thousands of ants were crawling over my skin."

Eragon closed his eyes, instinctively shaking his body as if trying to shake off the unsettling sensation. Harry nodded in understanding.

"Come here, I want to show you something," Harry motioned for Eragon to join him. Arya, who had been sharing the events that had unfolded since losing Saphira's egg with the elves, observed the two dragon riders with curiosity.

"Have you ever tried to sense magic, Eragon?" Harry asked, curiosity in his voice.

Eragon shook his head. "No, I haven't. How does it work?"

"It takes practice," Harry explained. "Not everyone has the talent or patience to learn it, but with practice, anyone can tap into their magic. Something you already have learned."

Harry picked up two branches from the ground and handed one to Eragon. "Take it and tell me what you feel."

Eragon made a face, aware of the elves' eyes on him. His hand clenched around the branch in concentration, and Harry suddenly smacked his hands with the remaining branch, causing Eragon to yelp in surprise.

"Why did you do that?" Eragon exclaimed, rubbing his hand.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Because you were trying too hard."

Eragon scoffed. "Is it even possible to try too hard?"

Harry chuckled. "Yes, it is. Try again, but this time close your eyes. Describe it to me."

Eragon sighed and followed Harry's instruction. He focused on the branch in his hands, tracing it with his fingers. After a moment, he opened his eyes.

"It's narrow and... short. The breaking point is big," Eragon described, recalling his hunter's instincts. "Probably a branch from a smaller tree that a passing boar might have torn off."

Harry smiled encouragingly. "Very good. You weren't the best hunter in Carvahall for nothing. Now, I'll give you the other branch. What do you feel now?"

As Eragon accepted the second branch, he realized it felt exactly the same as the first—thicker in some places and thinner in others, but nothing out of the ordinary.

"It's no different," Eragon concluded.

Harry nodded. "Now, try again, but this time, tap into your magic."

Arya sensed Celdin's hesitancy and raised her hand, signalling for him to let Eragon continue. The other elves watched with reluctance as Eragon attempted to harness his magic.

Minutes passed without any apparent change, until a soft muttered "Amazing" escaped Eragon's lips.

"What is it, Argetlam?" Narí asked, curiosity evident in his voice.

Eragon opened his eyes and looked at the elf. "I can feel it—the magic! It's like a thin layer of ice surrounding the branch."

Harry nodded with satisfaction. "Very good. What you're sensing is a weak freezing spell that I cast upon it earlier."

Harry took the branch from Eragon's hand. "In a similar way, you sensed the protective spells around Du Weldenvarden earlier. Those spells are so ancient and powerful that you could feel them without any problems."

Pressing his hand against the ground, Harry allowed the earth to envelop his hand, showcasing his own connection to magic. "I'm not a master at detecting wards, but I'm not terrible at it either."

His magic pulsed and Arya closed her eyes, feeling a warm breeze sweep over her, causing her hair to twirl. When she opened her eyes, she gasped in awe. Bright colours swirled around them, connecting individual trees with each other. She stood up, her eyes wide with wonder.

The lights danced in a kaleidoscope of colours, crackling with energy. They ranged from narrow to wide streams of light, weaving a mesmerizing tapestry throughout the forest. Arya whispered in amazement, her eyes shining, and she let out a joyful laugh.

The other elves stared wide-eyed at the enchanting display, while Eragon followed a small light, guiding him towards a nearby tree.

As the magical display unfolded, Harry felt his strength wane, and Artemis nudged him gently from the side. His focus slipped, and the lights gradually faded, leaving only the dim glow of the campfire.

Exhausted, Harry lifted his head and his hand pressed firmly against his scar.

"Magic always leaves a mark. Especially dark magic."

Gath – bring together

Kvïstr – branch

Eka Fricai un Shur'tugal. – I am a rider and friend.

Atra esterní ono thelduin - May good fortune rule over you.

A/N: I know that Fanghur are capable of attacking with their mind and they didn't do that here, but in the books Eragon first reaches out to their mind, which is why they attacked him then. I am still unsure about the dialogue between Arya and Harry. Both of them have spend more time with each other than Eragon and Arya did in cannon, which is why I wanted both of them to actually aknowledge each other as friends here before they meet other elves. The next chapter is the last one I had written beforehand. I started posting the story with 21 chapters which were mostly around 3k words. I then worked on each chapter until they were at least around 5k words or even added a new one. I hoped that it would read better that way. I am not sure yet, what I will do after I post the next one. Either I will post a chapter once I finish it or I will finish the next part/story first and then post it. That's also the reason it took me so long to finish this chapter; I'm unsure about how to proceed from here.

I hope you enjoyed it.