Inheritance Cycle 1. Prologue: Part 1

**Rïsa**

Centuries have passed since Dragon Rider Eragon Bromson and his dragon, the blue-scaled Saphira, defeated the Emperor Galbatorix and brought peace to the land of Alagaësia. Upon his departure from his native land, Eragon searched for many years before finally settling on a large valley ringed by near-impassible mountains which he christened Vrenbana. Though the creatures that lived there were strong and fierce, Eragon and Saphira, along with the elves who had made the journey with them, wasted no time constructing a towering fortress alongside a lake in the center. This fortress the rider named Cieráed, the Fire Mountain.

Since then, many eggs have hatched and new riders have been made from each of the free races in Alagaësia. The queen of the Elves and Dragon Rider, Arya, along with her green dragon, Fírnen, oversee the newly hatched eggs. Together with the dwarf rider, Tarehlak, and his partner, Gintare, she protects the newly bonded pairs and makes arrangements for dragons and riders to travel to Vrenbana as soon as they are able. Other Dragon Riders have who have returned to Alagaësia have built for themselves several small fortresses which dot the country, and from which they patrol the land, resuming the duties their ancestors performed so long ago. However, some new evil stirs within the land.

Fountains of magic that had long run beneath the surface of the earth are suddenly becoming wild and unpredictable, or else ceasing to exist at all. Strange creatures, twisted and corrupted by this wild magic now stalk the lands. As enemies close in on Alagaësia and the situation begins to worsen, the eyes of fate turn to two, young children who walk with the weight of destiny on their shoulders.

**In the Beginning: Part 1**

The stone floor was cold and rough beneath her as Keres slowly rose back to wakefulness. Her head throbbed painfully as she struggled to open her eyes and she ceased her efforts, electing instead to lie still on the floor for a few more minutes. From somewhere to her left she could hear several people speaking, their voices muffled as if she were hearing them from a great distance. As the pounding in her temples began to subside, she tried yet again to open her eyes. This time she succeeded.

For a few moments, there was only a faint, flickering glow that sent light and shadows swirling across her clouded field of vision. Then, as the room came into focus, she found herself staring at a rough-hewn stone wall. Turning her head slightly, she saw that the light came from a single, flickering torch that was bracketed in an iron holder. Pushing herself to her knees, she raised a hand to massage her aching skull. Her thoughts felt thick and sluggish, as though they were sliding through molasses. Something was bothering her, though for the life of her she could not remember what it was. She shook her head, then faltered as pain once again flared from a single point at the back of her head. Something wasn't right.

With a sudden gasp, her thoughts broke free of the haze and she snapped to complete wakefulness. Memories came flooding back to her. She had been playing on the mountainside near the small hut that she shared with her mother. She had been running, chasing the mountain deer that fled before her like shades into the shadows beneath the trees. She recalled the headlong charge down the side of the mountain, feeling the giddiness that precedes falling as her legs and arms flailed wildly. She had outstripped the young deer whose white spots still showed on their hides. She remembered the sense of weightlessness that had overtaken her as she had thrown herself off the edge of a low cliff, reveling in the wind that screamed in her ears as she plunged into the glistening pool far below. She remembered squelching up the low bank of the pool, feeling the mud squish beneath her bare feet. And then . . . nothing.

She frowned, her brow furrowing as she struggled to remember what had happened next. Vaguely, as if she had seen it in a dream, she recalled a shadow that had fallen over her, drowning her small, six-year-old body in its bulk. Someone, or something, must have struck her. Most likely someone, she reasoned, glancing around at the room. As she did so, she noticed a single, wooden door barely taller than she was. It was heavy and bound with iron. A handle of the same material protruded from one side. She pushed herself to her feet, having to pause a moment to steady her still-shaky legs. Moving to the door, she tugged. Unsurprisingly, the door did not budge.

Voices sounded from the opposite side of the door. She pressed her ear to the cracks, but try as she might, she could not make out what they were saying, though she recognized at least six distinct tones. Several were harsh and barking, but there were two that surprised her. One was a husky tone that was so soft that Keres could barely hear it, though it could not have been more than ten yards away. The other was a growling, guttural tone that carried clearly through even the thick wood of the door. Closing her eyes, Keres whispered, "Thverr dryr un atra eka hórna."

###

It was a soft knock on the door of his room that woke Thane. For a few seconds, he lay on the silken sheets, staring up at the ceiling. The sunlight streaming in through the window glistened off of the gem-encrusted murals that decorated the ceiling. Five dragons chased each other around the ceiling, each of them painted with near life-like clarity and with shimmering gemstones where their eyes should have been. When he had been younger, he had wondered if the dwarf artist who had painted the picture had melted real gems for the colors. Now that he was older, he was certain that was not the case, but he still could not fathom how the woman had managed to give the dragons such beautiful scales. In the shifting sunlight, the dragons appeared to flex their massive muscles in rippling waves of green, blue, red, silver, and gold.

The knock came again and this time, a man's voice sounded from behind the wooden panel. "Prince Thane, are you awake?" After a few moments it continued, "Sir, you must get up now. Your parents and brother await you in the dining room."

The words barely penetrated the haze of sleep that still surrounded Thane. Then, as reality caught up with him, he bolted upright. Today was _the day!_ Throwing off the covers, he dashed over to the basin of water that sat on one side of the room and pulled the lever to the right, sending a stream of cool water plunging into the large bowl. Stripping off his shirt, he splashed the water up over his head and shoulders, shaking much as a dog would when it dripped into his eyes. The water was shockingly cold and it sent trembles down his spine. Still, it also drove any lest vestiges of sleep from his head. Hurriedly toweling himself off, he rushed to the closet and flung it wide, tugging out the clothing the servants had picked out for him.

The well-made, green shirt and black trousers were delicately embroidered and so new that the scent of the tailor's shop had not yet completely faded. His mother had been quite adamant that both he and his brother required new outfits for the Presentation Ceremony. His father had known better than to protest, so a servant had been dispatched and the garments had been fetched. Secretly, Thane would have been more pleased if he had been allowed to wear the small set of armor that his father had gotten him. He always felt that he looked more heroic when he wore it. However, he had long since learned that matters involving clothing were best left to his mother if he didn't want to spend the next week avoiding her. So, with a shrug, he slipped out of his trousers and tossed the garment to one side, where it fell in a crumpled heap.

He tugged the shirt over his head, feeling the soft material slide like water over his smooth skin. Though he could not identify the tailor who had made this particular outfit, Thane had to appreciate the fact that the clothing was, at least, comfortable. He had, all too often, had to suffer through long ceremonies in garments that were too heavy for the summer or too light for the winter. The light shirt would keep him cool as he waited beneath the blazing sun. It took only a few minutes for him to be fully dressed and tugging at the heavy, oaken door that separated his room from the rest of the castle.

The servant was already gone, but several maids bustled through the halls, dusting and cleaning as they went. They greeted Thane cheerily and by name, to which he responded as his mother had taught him. The curtains about each window had been pulled back to let in the warm, summer sunshine. Though the castle was black as night in the morning glow, it was surprisingly cool and comfortable inside. A breeze drifted lazily through the halls, winding in and out of each open window and providing a near-constant stream of fresh air even to the inner parts of the building.

Usually he would have slowed his pace to enjoy the beauty of the day, but not this day. Today he fairly ran through the corridors, taking sharp corners at speed and barreling down flights of stairs. Several times he had to swerve so as to avoid an imminent collision with a horrified looking maid. Even so, it still was a good five minutes before the door to the dining room finally came into sight. Pausing, he brushed a hand through his ruffled, black hair and straightened his shirt before laying a hand against the door and pushing.

Thverr dryr un atra eka hórna – Traverse the door and let me hear


	2. Prologue: Part 2

**In the Beginning: Part 2**

Keres waited until all the voices had gone to make her move. After listening to the conversation outside her cell for what seemed like hours, she had garnered enough information to figure out where she was and what twist of fate had brought her there. The dwarf who had captured her had boasted brazenly about it to all who would hear, bragging that he had subdued the white-eyed witch-child. It was from his words that she had gathered that she was currently imprisoned in the dwarf city of Buragh. As she had listened to his tale of watching her fall from the sky, and from an inhuman height no less, to land unscathed in the water below, she had cursed her lack of caution. Mother would be furious with her. The black haired woman had always warned Keres to stay clear of the dwarf city, warning her that the dwarves were cruel and suspicious of outsiders, particularly those they did not understand.

Not that the warnings had been necessary. She and her mother had twice been chased from their homes by dwarf warriors who pursued them ferociously for days before the mother and daughter had been able to give them the slip. During those chases, Keres had often amused herself by casting spells to foil their attackers, or else make the chase more difficult in some way. Now, she wished she had heeded her mother's advice to keep her abilities a secret. The room she had been placed in was guarded by wards which prevented her from using magic. She had discovered this, much to her chagrin when she had first attempted to unlock the door with a few whispered words in the Ancient Language.

Now, she hunched over the tiny key hole, working at the lock with two small, metal rods that had been fashioned from the hairpin she had dragged from her tangled locks. After what felt like hours, she heard the faint click of the lock and, as she tugged lightly on the door handle, it slid back a few inches, allowing a silver of outside to show through. It was night, as she had suspected by the lack of voices, but even through the crack she could see that guards had been posted directly outside the door. Though she had expected it, she still felt a tinge of frustration ripple through her. Reviewing what her mother had taught her about spells of concealment and illusion, she muttered three, short sentences in rapid succession. She didn't dare try to combine them, lest she fumble on the wording and compromise this slim chance she had at escaping.

She eased the door open, praying that her spell would keep the wood and iron hinges from creaking. The two guards didn't seem to have noticed. They stood, oblivious to the young woman who stepped from inside the cell and closed the door quietly. She paused, glancing up at the full moon high above. It would be necessary to wait for a cloud to blot out the silvery light or the dwarf guards would see her shadow, which she did not yet know how to conceal. She had only to wait a few moments before a long, dark cloud drifted over the face of the shining orb. On tip toes she crept past the guards, praying to the gods that at least some dwarves were patrolling the streets. She had never been to Buragh, and as such, had no idea how to get out of the city. With luck, a patrol would take her right past the main gate and she could slip out without much trouble.

She moved quietly across the open space that separated the cell from the rows of houses, quickening her pace as she neared the stone structures. She had barely managed to dart behind one and out of sight when the cloud shifted and the moon's light touched the city once more. Keres froze, her back pressed against the outer wall of the house as she waited to hear an alarm bell clang. None came. She breathed a sigh of relief, lowering her head. As she did so, she found herself staring into a puddle of water left over from the previous day's rains. High above, the crescent moon came out, flashing silver in the water and reflecting her face in sharp relief. She had a round face, the face of youth, and it was flawless except for a single scar that traced a crescent shape of its own from just below her left eye until it nearly touched the corner of her mouth. Long, straight hair fell to her shoulder, white as freshly fallen snow. But it was her eyes that disturbed her the most. The myriad of spells laid upon her by her mother in the hour of her birth had served dual purposes. They had saved the life of the weak, malformed child, but they had also removed all traces of color from the irises of her eyes. They now stared, blank and white, expect the black pupil in the center. In spite of herself, Keres shuddered.

Struggling to shake off the feeling, she squared her shoulders, set her jaw, and darted in the shadows of Buragh.

###

The mood at the breakfast table was curiously subdued. Thane's mother, Amaraye, greeted him with only a strained smile, while his father only nodded in response. Across the table from them, his twin brother, Thaddeus, looked up at him and, in a passable imitation of their father, nodded seriously. Thane sighed. Twins they may have been by birth, but they were as different as the sun and moon.

Thane's short, dark hair fell around his head, black bangs falling into his glimmering green eyes. Thaddeus had inherited their mother's brown hair, which he pulled back in a long ponytail that shone with good health and care. Thane had retained their mother's green eyes, while his brother boasted their father's dark eyes. Even their builds were at odds, Thaddeus' slim, slender build contrasting starkly with Thane's broad shoulders and barrel chest. People often joked that the gods had taken all the features of the parents and cast them like a die, picking features for each child at random. However, the most striking difference was in their personality. Thane recalled years of resentment that his brother had constantly revealed Thane's misdoings to their parents. Days spent wandering the city after dark had ceased after his brother revealed that Thane had been sneaking out at night. Tricks played on the household staff had quickly reached the ears of their mother, who had subjected the young boy to vicious glares and lectures, and their father, who had struggled to maintain a straight face.

However, when they had each been given their own rooms, Thane had begun to realize a newfound appreciation for his brother. Quiet and serious the boy might have been, but he matched Thane's skill with the weapons the castle Weapon Master had trained them in. Though his strength far exceeded his brothers, the speed with which the other boy moved and struck quite evened the playing field. In contrast to Thane's excitement, the other boy looked nervous.

Seating himself beside his brother, Thane pulled a plate of bacon and eggs toward his plate, asking, "Are they here?"

For a few moments, no one spoke. His mother's mouth visibly tightened as she lowered the apple slice she had been about to eat. It was his father who finally responded, not looking up from a piece of parchment that hung over the edge of the table, "They arrived last night."

"When do we get to go see them?"

"Patience, Thane." Despite her strange mood, his mother's voice vibrated with the familiar calm and poise that he was so accustomed to. "They are weary from the long flight. Do not expect to see them until this afternoon."

A tinge of disappointment tempered Thane's excitement as he began to shovel food into his mouth. He had hoped to meet the Riders this morning, but it seemed that even that would have to wait. He had known that the Dragon Riders would arrive late the previous night, coming all the way from Sunvarda, the Rider's fortress near Dras Leona. It astounded him that they could move from place to place so quickly. Journeys that would take weeks on foot passed in a manner of days beneath the wings of the dragons.

No one knew the route the Dragon Riders would take through the country. They kept it a secret, only alerting the local ruler days before their arrival. It was a good security tactic, as it meant that criminals would not have the opportunity to plan a coordinated attempt to steal the prize the riders carried: dragon eggs. It had been two years since the last ceremony and Thane had watched the proceedings with wide eyes, painfully aware that it would be another two years before he would be eligible to be presented to the eggs. He did not know of anyone in the capital who had been selected, but he had heard tell of human riders who had been selected from some of the smaller cities in the empire. And now it was time. Today was the day that he would finally get to present himself to the dragon eggs. Today was the day he would get his chance to fulfill his lifelong dream: to be a Dragon Rider.

The family lapsed into silence for a long while. The chink of silverware clattering against silver plates was the only sound in the silence. The quiet was broken when a door off to one side of the room opened and a young page entered, his chest heaving with the speed of his journey. He strode into the room and stopped a respectful distance from the table. Bowing he proclaimed, "My King, My Queen, the Dragon Riders Gareth Stevenson and Rok of Dûrgimst Nagra send their greetings, and ask the King if they may begin setting up for the ceremony. They will to begin as soon as possible."

King Fiachre looked up from the parchment, a goblet pausing half-way to his mouth. "They wish to begin already? They only arrived a few hours ago."

The boy shifted, "A crowd has already gathered outside the gate to participate in the ceremony. Several have attempted to sneak into the castle through more . . . unsavory means."

Exchanging a glance with his wife, King Fiachre nodded, "Very well, tell the servants to prepare the garden within the hour and inform the Riders that they are most welcome to come and set up at their convenience."

The boy bowed, turned, and vanished back through the door.


	3. Prologue: Part 3

**In the Beginning: Part 3**

Keres had just come within sight of the outer wall of Braugh when the alarm bells began to sound. Although she had been waiting for them, the sound still made her stomach clench and a shudder of fear ran through her. Around her, the city exploded into a buzz of activity. Dwarf voices cried out from every direction and the tramp of boots broke the silence of the night. Ducking into a side alley to avoid a group of warriors who were hurrying in tight formation toward where she had been imprisoned, Keres reviewed her situation.

She still had no idea where the city gate was. She had intended to follow the first patrol of dwarf guards she had seen until they passed by the main gate and then slip away. However, it appeared that the gods had conspired against her. She must have picked them up just after they left the main gate, for they had traversed most of the way around the city without a single opening through which she could escape the city. And now someone had discovered her disappearance and the city had taken on the appearance of an overturned anthill. Escaping would be nearly impossible now. Even as the though crossed her mind, she heard the distant boom of stone doors being shut. _Damn. _Taking advantage of the dust raised by the passing troop, she dashed along the street, praying that the sounds of chaos around her would drown out her own, pattering footsteps. The rough stone made her feet hurt, but she sprinted onward, ducking behind crates or barrels whenever she encountered another patrol.

But there was nowhere to go! The gates to the city were shut and by now, there were surely guards posted on every wall. She needed somewhere to hide, somewhere she could wait out the confusion until the alarm had died down. Glancing around over the tops of the houses, she spotted, some ways off to her left, a single, stone structure that stood above the others. A giant, cylinder of grey stone, it towered high into the night, riddled with large, black spots that Keres realized a moment later were holes carved into the rock. It alone, of the entire city, seemed silent and slumbering.

She headed for it, taking as straight a path as caution, and the strange, dwarf designed streets would allow. Still, it took her nearly 10 minutes to reach the structure. Twice on her journey, a dwarf had spotted her disembodied shadow rippling along behind her. The first appeared to have shrugged it off as a trick of the light. The second, however, realized exactly what it was and had given chase. Only by vaulting two fences and utilizing her prodigious speed has she managed to escape.

So it was that she found herself, panting and exhausted, at the foot of the tower. A massive, metal door barred the entrance and no spell she could create would open it. Realizing that she had not the time to wait and pick the lock, she had sidled around the cylinder until she stood directly beneath the opening. She stood, mentally measuring the distance up to the dark, gaping hole. Had she been at full strength, there would have been no doubt she could have reached the opening. As it was, the spell that hid her from view drained more of her strength with every second. As the pounding of boots revealed another patrol headed her way, she made up her mind. Bracing herself she whispered, "Audr."

The drain on her strength was phenomenal as she rose, shakily, in to the air. At first she moved smoothly up the rock, but as her energy ebbed, the motion became jerky and slow. Stretching up her arms, she caught the lip of the rock as soon as it came within reach and pulled herself in, ending all of her spells. The cave, for a cave it was, was much deeper than she had originally anticipated. It extended back in a large, black void that hid the end from her sight. But it was not the void that caught her attention. No, what drew her was what looked like a mound of pillows and soft blankets piled into a mound off to one side of the cave. And sitting on the mound, nestled atop the blankets, were three enormous, glistening gems.

###

Thane gaped, open mouthed, at the two dragons that now stood sentinel in the garden. Though he saw dragons regularly, if every two years could be counted as regularly, their stature and beauty never ceased to amaze him. The nearest to him, lined up as he was with the other children of the empire, was a dragon whose scales sparkled with a brilliant blue-green hue. Across from him, a slightly larger, bright orange dragon shuffled its wings, casting flecks of light across the spectators who lined the yard. Between then, and on either side of a raised bier, stood the two riders. The rider of the blue-green dragon, a man whose name was Gareth Stevenson, watched the proceedings with keen-eyed interest.

His garb was fine, though not so lavish as to be unwieldy should he need to fight. His shirt was of a soft, white cloth and his breeches where a dark, deep shade of blue that matched his eyes. His head was perfectly shaved and contrasted by a wiry beard that masked what was obviously a strong jaw-line. His companion, a dwarf, was attired as if for battle. A sparkling coat of mail hung from his shoulders. His fists, which appeared as blocks of stone attached to the ends of his arms, were tipped with a series of spikes that glinted dully in the sunlight. A helm hung from the saddle his dragon wore. At the sides of both the riders hung the embellished scabbards that Thane knew held their swords. _Rider's Swords!_

One by one, the children were allowed to approach the bier and stand before the three dragon eggs which sat on silken pillows. Thane thought he had never seen gems that could equal the beauty of the three eggs that now glistened in his garden. The nearest to him was a pale green, like young leaves. Veins of a deeper green showed around the surface like a root system beneath a plant. Next to it sat an egg of a bright, sky blue. At first, Thane had believed it was merely reflecting the sky above, but as clouds began to drift across the sun, it became apparent that the blue coloring would not waver. However, it was the third egg, the farthest from him, that caught his attention. It was a dazzling, snow white, the brightest white that he had ever seen. As the sun's light touched it, the egg seemed to glow from within, emanating a halo that shimmered and shifted.

Thane shifted anxiously from foot to foot, mentally counting the number of people in front of him for the twelfth time. His father had insisted that he and his brother take places in the line, despite the fact that the riders had offered to allow them to go first. The King had stated that if the families of the other children had been waiting outside for hours, then it was only right that they should be allowed to go in the order they had arrived. Thaddeus stood in front of him and Thane could see the rigidity in his brother's shoulders. Leaning forward he whispered, "Are you alright?"

Thaddeus looked back and Thane suddenly realized that his brother's face had turned bone-white. For the first time since mother had caught them playing in a mud-puddle at their aunt's wedding, Thane saw raw fear in his brother's face. "Thane . . ." Thaddeus whispered, "What if one of us gets picked?"

"What do you mean?"

Thaddeus swallowed, "They'll take whoever gets picked. We may never see each other again, or mom and dad."

"You make it sound like we'd be going to prison." Thane protested, "If one of us gets picked, he gets to go be a Rider! A real rider Thad!"

Thaddeus shook his head, "I never wanted to be a rider. I just want to grow up and be a King, like father. But what if a dragon hatches for me?"

Placing a hand on his brother's shoulder, Thane shook him, "Thad, relax. If a dragon should hatch for one of us, then it will mean that it saw something that that we ourselves do not. A dragon would not hatch for someone unprepared, nor would it hatch for someone who doesn't want to be a rider."

A faint bit of color returned to Thaddeus cheeks as he murmured, "Are you sure?"

"Of course!" Thane sincerely hoped that his smile didn't tip his brother off to the massive lie he just told. He had no clue what made a dragon hatch for someone, beyond the legends that had been spawned in the years since the Rider War. Glancing over at his parents, he saw that they were both staring concernedly at the young princes. Thane waved, certain that his mother knew, or at least suspected, some of what was going on.

The hours wore on as the sun crept higher toward its midday peak. Thane could hear the mutters as the eggs showed a frustrating lack of inactivity. For the first hour of so, the crowd had been completely silent. However, as interest had begun to wane, several of the watching families had departed with their respective charges. The number of children between him and the bier dwindled until, at long last, Thaddeus stood at the head of the line. Just as he made to step forward, the man named Gareth held up a hand to stop him. Thaddeus froze.

Turning to where the King and Queen sat on their movable thrones, he declared, "King Fiachra, you realize that in presenting your sons, Thaddeus and Thane, to the dragon eggs, you accept any consequences that may occur therein. Should one or both of your sons be selected by a dragon, they and all their heirs relinquish any claim to the throne. They will renounce any allegiance they have to you as their father and king, and will swear allegiance to the Riders. Nor will you have any power over them, for the riders answer to no ruler save Eragon Shadeslayer, son of Brom, and Saphira Brightscales, daughter of Vervada."

Rising to his full height, King Fachre inclined his head, "Their mother and I accept all responsibility in plain sight and hearing of these witnesses. If one of our sons is chosen, it shall be as you have declared O' Rider."

Gareth nodded and Rok pointed to Thaddeus. "You, boy, step up to the eggs."

Glancing back to give Thane a worried look, Thaddeus ascended toward the bier.


	4. Prologue: Part 4

**In the Beginning: Part 4**

Keres stared in wonder at the treasures that lay before her. They were shaped like eggs, but of a size that no beast she had ever seen could match, not even the sharp-beaked Fanghur. Keres slowly strode toward them enamored by the unparalleled beauty of the gems. One was a royal shade of purple, the next a clear, bright yellow like a sunflower, and the last, an inky, tarry shade of black. Yet as the moonlight stuck them though the opening to the cave, she could see flecks of other colors within the veining of the gems. The purple one possessed thin strips of white that only served to imbibe the color with even greater depth. The yellow gem had streaks of dark gold within it, like a rock which had yet to be mined. And the third . . . she could only gaze, dumbstruck, at the third and final gemstone. Crystalline flecks glistened with a rainbow of colors as the wavering moonlight danced against the black surface.

With trembling fingers, she reached out and touched them. The gems felt warm, as though they had recently been handled. Even this was troubling knowledge was not enough to draw her away. She picked each of them up, examining them with ever increasing delight as she found them flawless, without blemish or scratch. As she picked up the black gemstone, a shiver of something she could not place ran through her. The silver light from outside reflected from thousands of tiny points within the stone.

A deep rumbling growl interrupted her thoughts emanating from the darkness at the end of the cave. She froze. Her breath caught in her chest as the sound grew louder, as if whatever was making it were coming closer. Gathering her courage she slowly turned her head to face the noise. A pair of cold, grey eyes glistened from within the darkness, eyes that were larger than she had ever believed they could be. Then the eyes moved, coming toward her with deliberate slowness. Inch by inch, a huge, triangular head emerged from the darkness. It was covered in slate-grey scales that were darker than the stone surrounding it. A serpentine neck followed and the head moved toward her until it hovered just in front of her. Keres mind went blank excepting for a single sentence that repeated itself over and over again. _Gods help me, a dragon!_ Then it growled, exposing fangs that were nearly as long as her forearm.

The sound was low, menacing, and filled with anger. As if in answer, a sharp squeak cut through the deep, gravelly tone. The growl ceased as something akin to surprise flitted through the grey eyes. At the sound, Keres' head had snapped down to stare at the black gem she still held in her hands. It squeaked again and she felt the stone vibrate slightly. Her instincts screamed at her to drop it, but her fingers refused to obey the command. Another squeak split the silence and echoed around the walls of the cave. Then a new set of vibrations rippled through her hands. Something within the stone was moving, striking the outer covering.

Finally coming to her senses, Keres set the stone down on the floor and began to back away from the dragon. As she made to step back, however, the dragon bared its teeth again and the snarl cracked out like a whip. The command was clear. _Do not move. _So she stayed crouched on the stone floor, watching the gem wobble back and forth. The squeaks had increased in volume and frequency. Then there was a long, grating crack followed by another squeak that sounded almost frustrated. Leaning forward slightly, Keres saw that a long, slender crack now ran the length of the gem, starting at the very tip and running down to the base. The creature inside shifted ever more wildly and, with another squeal, the stone split into two halves. A tiny dragon, dark as the night of the new moon, tumbled out head over tail.

###

Thane watched with apprehension as Thaddeus moved tentatively toward the bier. Halting, he stood directly in front of the three eggs. With a shaking hand, he gently touched each of the three eggs. Seconds passed, then a full minute. The eggs remained motionless. The crowd had fallen silent, as they always did when a candidate was presented to the eggs. As the seconds dragged on, however, murmurs of conversation began to arise from the crowd. Normally, a child would stand before the eggs for a full three minutes to watch for any sign of movement. Thaddeus stepped away before Gareth could even tell him to move. With evident relief, at least it was evident to Thane, he walked back to where his parents sat and took a seat on the cushioned bench by their feet. Privately, Thane felt his own twinge of relief that his brother had not been chosen. If his brother had been chosen, that would have been one less egg that could possibly choose him.

Gareth looked over at where Thane stood and nodded, "Approach the eggs."

With slow, measured steps, Thane strode toward the place where the eggs sat. Though he made every effort to look dignified, he stumbled over a loose stone halfway there and nearly fell to his knees. His cheeks burning, he righted himself, glancing up sheepishly at the two riders. They were determinedly looking away, but he couldn't help but notice the faint twitching at the corners of Rok's mouth. Behind him, he could hear the snickers of the watching crowd and the candidates still left to be presented. For a heartbeat, he was tempted to look over at his parents for comfort, but he held himself back. If he was chosen, he would not be able to look to them for strength any longer. He would have to make his own strength.

Straightening his shirt, he climbed the short flight of steps and stood in front of the eggs. The reflected sunlight threw color onto his white shirt and flecks of light spattered his face. From this close, each egg looked as though it had been encrusted with gems. An image of the glistening dragons on his ceiling flashed before his eyes and he closed his eyes, breathing a quick prayer to whatever gods there may have been. He raised a shaking hand and placed it on the pale green stone. It was warm beneath his fingers, which was to be expected considering how long it had been sitting in the sun. The surface was perfectly smooth, as if some master sculptor had chiseled it from a pale emerald. But for all his admiration, the egg remained motionless.

He turned his attention to the sky-blue egg. Yet again, he had to fight the strange sensation that he was staring into a fallen piece of the sky. He tried to imagine the dragon that would hatch from that egg. Against the sky, it would be well-nigh invisible. As the seconds ticked by, he felt a growing sense of panic. The egg had not moved. It may have been a stone beneath his now shaking fingers. Feeling his heart begin to race, he turned his gaze to the third and final egg. The white egg. As he had thought from before, it was not a chalky white, not bone white, but the white of freshly fallen snow. It was a white so dazzling, that even as he stared at it, his eyes began to water. He reached out to it. His tiny fingers brushed the smooth, hard surface. Nothing happened. As trepidation overcame him, he pressed his whole hand, fingers and palms, hard against the egg, closing his eyes in an effort to keep the tears from leaking out.

_Squeak!_ Thane's eyes snapped open as a faint vibration ran through his fingers. _Squeak!_ The vibration came again, this time more solidly, and the egg shifted slightly on its cushion. He looked sideways, into the face of the human rider, who was watching the proceedings with a faint smile on his lips. Turning his head still farther, he locked eyes with his parents. His father was leaning forward in his throne, eyes riveted on the white egg. As his gaze met Thane's a broad smile began to spread over the older man's face. His mother, in contrast, lost all color from her cheeks and her hands went rigid on the arms of her chair.

The egg had begun to rock back and forth so hard, Thane feared it might fall from its perch. Then a faint tapping sound reached his ears. It came first from one point, then another, then a third. Thin, tendril-like cracks appeared right at the top of the egg. The tapping suddenly increased in intensity and number. The creature within could sense that success was near. The cracks spread outward even as Thane stared, entranced. Then a few fragments of the shell burst outward and, through the small hole, Thane saw a small, white muzzle poke its way to the surface and draw its first breath of fresh air.


	5. Prologue: Part 5

**In the Beginning: Part 5**

The black dragon thrashed its limbs, squeaking angrily as it attempted to right itself. Keres almost reached down to help, then she saw the tiny, needle-sharp teeth that glistening in the moonlight when the dragon opened its mouth and quickly withdrew her hand. Finally managing to furl small, crumpled wings against its body, the dragon gained its feet and raised its head to view its surroundings. Though the eyes were as black as the body, she saw flecks of color within them, much as she often saw in the opals her mother favored.

The baby dragon was now surveying its much larger brethren. It stepped forward unafraid, sniffing suspiciously as the larger dragon dipped its head to better view the new hatchling. The smaller dragon had a narrow head and a long neck ridged in tiny bumps, the forerunners of what would be formidable spines. Its wings were crumpled from being inside its egg, but they folded neatly against the body. The long, slender tail waved slightly as the dragon moved, often threatening to upset the tiny creature's balance and send it toppling over.

Then Keres trembling knees finally gave way and she sank to the cave floor. The baby dragon's head snapped around toward her. Keres froze. The small dragon regarded her curiously for a moment before slowly moving toward her. They gazed into each other's eyes, black eyes into white, as the distance between them narrowed. The dragon squeaked again, though this time the sound was softer. Tentatively extending her arm toward the creature, Keres opened her right hand, presenting her palm to the dragon much as she would a strange dog. The dragon's nostrils flared as it sniffed her fingers. Then, pushing its head forward, it nudged the center of her palm with its nose.

A rush of burning energy seared through Keres, the likes of which she had never felt before. The power lanced up her arm and made its way through her like a lightning bolt. She cried out, jerking her hand back and pressing it against her abdomen as she doubled over. Her entire arm tingled as though she had shocked herself. Her forehead pressed into the cold, cave floor as she swore softly to herself. A soft tickle of air brushed her cheek and she turned her head a few inches to see the small dragon watching her carefully.

It cocked its tiny head and squeaked again, reaching forward to sniff her face. As the soft, lusterless black scales brushed her cheek, Keres flinched, but there was no corresponding jolt this time. Still cradling her right arm, the young girl sat up and reached out with her left to touch the small dragon on the back. It arched against her fingers like a cat. In spite of herself, a smile broke over Keres face. "You are rather adorable, aren't you?"

As if in response, she felt a touch on her mind. She stiffened. Her mother had occasionally touched her mind if Keres was out of earshot and her mother needed her to return home, but this touch was different. It was questioning, curious, and, more importantly, completely alien. She brushed the consciousness with her own and saw the dragon's wings flare slightly. Then the questioning probe came again. Speaking with both her thoughts and her words, she murmured, "I am Keres."

_We are well met indeed Keres. _A second, more ominous presence broke its way into her mind like a thunderclap. A vast, alien being overwhelmed her thoughts, filling her head with a growling voice like the roaring of a large river. She felt small and feeble beneath the newcomer, like a sapling that stood in the shadow of a mountain. The gray dragon leaned down until it could regard her with a single, glistening eye that was nearly as big around as a shield.

Blinking, Keres responded. "That was you? But, you're a dragon."

_I am._

"How can you talk?"

_The same way your dragon just talked to you. We are not born with your speech. It must be learned, just as your human children learn it. Until that time, we can speak only in symbols, as wild dragons do._

Keres was about to ask why it had not bothered to speak with her earlier when another, more pressing matter occurred to her. "My dragon?"

The large, grey dragon let out a low, barking cough. Though her mental link, Keres could feel amusement rolling off the great beast and realized, with a flush of embarrassment, that it was laughing at her. _Aye, young Keres. This,_ he gestured to the small dragon that was now curling its way onto her lap, _is your dragon. And you are her rider. _

###

It took nearly 10 minutes for the small, white dragon to finally extricate himself from the egg. It had taken almost half that time for the dragon to enlarge the hole at the top of the egg enough to where he could extend his head into the open air. The process had gone faster since as he had managed to work his shoulders through and then his torso. With a final heave, the small creature wiggled free of the shell and stood proudly on the cushion. The whole garden had gone completely silent. None of the onlookers had spoken during the time the dragon had been prying himself free. Now, as the empty shell tumbled into the grass, a great cheer went up from the watchers.

A hand descended on Thane's shoulder and he looked up to see Gareth standing beside him. The man gestured toward the small creature. "Present your hand to him."

"It's a boy?"

"Indeed"

"How do you know?"

_Because I told him so. _The voice was like a rolling avalanche and, startled, Thane looked around for the source. The cheering crowd appeared not to have heard it. It took Thane a few moments realize that the sound had come from inside his head. The baby dragon appeared to have heard it too, for he lifted his head to look at the large, blue-green dragon whose head now loomed over them. The dragon twisted its neck to stare at Thane, bright eyes the size of dinner plates. _Your dragon is a male._

Thane's face broke out in a broad grin, "My dragon . . ." Doing as Gareth had instructed, he extended his left hand, palm outward, to the small dragon. With an incredible amount of dignity, the small dragon reached its nose forward and brushed the tip of his muzzle against Thane's palm. The boy screamed, recoiling as pain seared through him. He would have fallen and lain, writhing on the ground, had the dwarf rider not stepped up to hold him on his feet. As the pain began to recede, Thane looked up at the two riders through watering eyes.

To his surprise they were grinning even more broadly now. At first the sight made him angry. Who were they to find amusement in his pain? Then, following their gazes, he stared down at his hand. There, in the center of his palm, was a raised, silvery patch of skin; the Gedwey Ignasia. On the raised bier, the small, white dragon was now being greeted by his two larger counterparts. They lowered massive heads to inspect the newborn, sniffing him and huffing out soft breaths that fluttered the still-damp membranes of the dragon's wings. When it noticed his gaze, the hatchling stepped forward, leaping gracefully from its perch to land nimbly on his shoulder. As the boy started, the dragon dug tiny claws into the fabric of his clothing. Craning its head around, it watched him, a thin black circle the only distinction between the iris of his eye and the sclera.

The dwarf pounded Thane on his other shoulder. "Well done lad. Now, turn to the crowd and present your mark."

Feeling elation welling up inside of him, Thane turned to the still-cheering crowd and raised his left hand. The cheering grew into a deafening roar as the crowd screamed their approval. Then he saw his family. His father had risen to his feet and was applauding along with the others, a broad grin of approval on his face. Thaddeus was also cheering, his hands waving wildly. Then Thane saw his mother. Amaraye had yet to regain the color in her face, but as he watched her, she smiled and wiped a streak of tears from her cheeks. Then she lifted three fingers to her lips and kissed them. Thane smiled at her. From his side, the white dragon watched the proceedings with bright interest.

Then the dwarf touched him on the shoulder. "Welcome to the Dragon Riders."


	6. Chapter 1

**15 YEARS LATER**

**Chapter 1**

She was flying just above the trees, skimming the highest branches with the tips of her outstretched wings. The world was strangely muted, as if she was viewing it through a pane of clouded glass. Only the shadows of the trees below, and her own shadow which dominated wherever it fell, stood out sharply. A chaotic whirl of smells assaulted her nose. The soft, earthy scent of the soil and the trees combined with the warm, pulsing scent of the animals that inhabited the forest to form the familiar smell of her home.

Below her, several flashes of white darted from the shade of the trees and into a clearing. As the deer broke cover, they scattered in several directions, fleeing before her massive shadow. Folding her wings against her sides, she dived, dropping the twenty or so feet onto the back of one of the animals. It shrieked once as her claws dug into its hide, then her jaws closed around its neck.

With a shriek of disgust, Keres bolted upright in bed, the steely tang of blood coating her mouth and throat. The taste turned her stomach sour and she retched, scrabbling on her nightstand for the water-skin. As she brought it to her lips, she swirled the water around her mouth before swallowing. The taste slowly receded as she struggled to force the bile back down into her stomach.

"Oh you're awake. Good morning." The exaggerated innocence of the voice that now echoed in her head irked her slightly.

_You know, I'm beginning to wonder if you do that on purpose. _

"On purpose? Why would I do something like that on purpose?"

_Because you're a pain in my . . ._

"Heart?"

The sheer amusement that radiated over her link with her partner was enough to bring a smile to her face. Keres chuckled, _Yes Vikonyx, that's exactly what I was about to say._

"I thought so."

Extricating herself from the bundled sheets, Keres climbed to her feet and moved over to the wash basin. Turning a knob set into the wall, she sent a stream of warm water pouring down into the intricately carved bowl. _When I asked you to make sure I woke up in time for breakfast, I had hoped you would find a better way to do it._

"I called you and called you, but you wouldn't wake. Your sleep was deep and your dreams were dark."

A faint crease appeared between Keres' eyes as she scrubbed her arms and splashed water up over her face. _My dreams are always dark. _

"Do not dwell on it overmuch." The dragon growled and Keres received a brief image of a bloodied haunch. "Dreams are just dreams, more often than not. You should not create anxiety where none should exist."

_It is far too early in the morning for you to be so existential. _The towel she used was soft against her face as she dabbed away the last traces of moisture. Her own reflection stared up at her from the pool of water, her eyes now bright and alert. Her face was long and slender, with high cheekbones and proud eyes. The scar that had marred her face had been removed by Eragon within three days of her arrival at Vrenbana, the home of the Riders. She now appeared exactly as she wished to. Her ears tapered to points at the end, though not as dramatically as an elf's. Beneath her lips, she felt the canines she had elongated brush against the inside of her cheeks. Her eyes had been the only aspect of her appearance that she had been unable to change. Even Eragon and Saphira's combined might had failed to affect any change in the colorless irises. But perhaps that was for the best, for the deformity no longer bothered her as it used to.

She was broken out of her reverie by a knock on the door. Combing her tangled hair into a semblance of order, she strode over to the door and unclasped the lock. As it swung inward, she found herself standing face to face with a tall, brown-haired man. Clasping her right arm across her breast, she pressed her Gedwey Ignasia against her chest and squarely over her heart. "Eragon-elda."

He surveyed her with deep brown eyes that felt as though they were peeling back her skin to see whatever lay beneath. After a few moments, he inclined his head to her. "Keres-ungr, I am glad to see that you are awake." He paused, his eyes sliding slightly out of focus before he shook himself. "We will forego our usual meditation this morning. Be out at Gjera Lake by 9:00 and do not be late."

She inclined her head, "Yes, master."

His gaze softened slightly as he noticed the heavy bags beneath her eyes. "Haven't you been sleeping well?

Shrugging, she averted her eyes. "No worse than usual."

"You're a terrible liar."

She shifted uneasily, lifting a hand to brush the hair out of her eyes. "Just nightmares. I know they're nightmares, but I can never remember them when I wake up. The more I think about them and try to recall what they were about, the faster I lose them."

His brow furrowed with concern, "Would you like a tonic for it? I'm sure we can find something that will allow you to sleep without dreaming."

"No" The word came out more forcefully than she had intended and she hastily lowered her voice. "No, master. These are my demons, so to speak, I'll just have to deal with them until they depart."

For a few seconds, there was silence, then he nodded in assent. "As you wish. I shall expect you at 9:00 sharp. Do not be late."

With that, he turned and strode back down the stairs, following the curve of the passageway until he disappeared from view. Keres closed the door quickly behind him, locking it back as she dashed over to her chest and removed a set of training clothes. The mention of Gjera Lake had definitely peaked her interest. It was the residence of the only two blacksmiths that resided in Vrenbana, Rhunön-elda and her young apprentice, Ethowyn. The elfish blacksmiths had come to reside there many years before Keres had arrived. Despite her vow to never again craft swords, made after the Tyrant-King Galbatorix used her beloved weapons to bring about the downfall of the riders, she had discovered a loophole which allowed her to make weapons using the body of a rider. She had discovered that this allowed some part of the Rider's personality and abilities to seep into the blade. Since then, she had been plying her craft in the shade of the high mountains.

The strain of forging a blade in such a way was so intense that Eragon and the elders had seen fit to add it to the Rider's training regimen. It was now the last test a Dragon and Rider had to complete before being recognized as full members of the order. Though she had used magic to help craft Brisinger, Rhunön now elected to create her blades the old-fashioned way; a way which required days of intensive and precise labor. Many an apprentice, readying himself or herself to receive a blade, had gone on a strict training regiment in preparation for Rhunön's ritual.

Wriggling her way into her training uniform, Keres contacted Vikonyx and relayed the change of plans to her. The dragon had sealed off the contact to avoid drowning Keres in images of bloody meat and steaming innards. Now, as they reopened their mental link, a sense of completeness washed over Keres and she sighed contentedly. _I just need to get a meal myself. Then I will be ready to go._

The dragon's consciousness thrilled with excitement as she leapt into the air, rising on massive wings. "I need a drink and then I will join you in the courtyard."

_Agreed_. The conversation came to an end as Keres pushed her feet into her boots and buckled on the sword that lay next to her bed. Even so, she could still feel the touch of Vikonyx's mind as the black dragon arched through the sky and the sun glittered off her opalescent scales.


	7. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

For about the hundredth time, Thane reached down and brushed the hilt of the sword at his waist. As always, he was surprised to find it several inches higher than the regular sword that he was used to carrying. Though the grip was large enough to accommodate only one of his hands, the pommel and crossguard elongated the hilt a good inch or so above where he would normally find it. His fingers brushed down the hard leather until they touched the gem set into the hilt of the blade. Janajós, the elves called it, the starlight gems.

True to its name, the gem looked as though it was constantly emitting a silver sheen, just as Evaríncel did. In the center of the gem was a single glyph, which identified the name of the sword, the name that Thane himself had given it as Rhunön-elda presented it to him: Kveykva. It was fitting, he had decided that a rider with a white dragon should have a sword named lightning. The name went well with the thunder that boomed from beneath the big dragon's wings as he flung himself into the sky.

He had been given the option of wielding Islingr, the blade of Vrael, who had led the Riders during the Fall, but he had elected to have Rhunön create him a new sword. True, Islingr was a strong and beautiful blade, but it had felt wrong in his hand. The knowledge that it had spent centuries at the side of Galbatorix had repelled Thane. The sword felt tainted. No, Kveykva was the blade for him. It fit his hand like a well-made glove and already it felt like an extension of his body, not a weapon.

As Thane pushed back his chair, rising from his seat, a twinge of pain lanced through his shoulders and her groaned. His body had still not recovered from the strain of creating his sword during Rhunön's ritual. Immediately afterward, his muscles had shrieked in pain at the slightest movement. Now, the pain had subsided to a few small sparks here and there. Still, it was a small price to pay to be considered a rider in full. Thane had risen early today, determined to complete his packing and say a final goodbye to Vrenbana before departing with the rest of his cohort. On the morrow, he and the other riders who had graduated within the last few months would begin the long journey back to Alagaësia.

An image of a glittering waterfall flashed across his mind as the voice of his partner spoke inside his mind. "I will miss this place when we have departed."

Nodding, though he knew his dragon could not see him, Thane responded. _I have lived here for nearly twelve years. What little I remember of the Alaga__ë__sia must be greatly changed._ He paused for a moment, then asked, _Do you think they would let me go see my family? _

Evaríncel was silent for a moment. "Do you think that it would be wise? I remember that it was . . . difficult for you to abandon your ties with them when we were brought here."

Thane shrugged uneasily, _I do not know what would be wise. I have come to terms with the fact that, if I am not killed and do not fall ill, I will far outlive any of my immediate family. I am different now than I was when I left._

"Are you stronger?"

_I believe so. _

"Then I do not see a problem." The practicality in the white dragon's tone made Thane smile. "So long as visiting your family does not hinder the missions that you are given, nor keep you from upholding the oath we swore when we first set foot here, there should not be an issue." The connection between them was gradually growing stronger, indicating that the dragon had taken flight and was winging his way toward the tower that housed the Dragon Riders. Hastily cleaning his plate and depositing it on a shelf, Thane hurried down a hallway, through a door, and out into open sunlight.

He was just in time to see a huge, white shape soar over him and land on a hill some thirty yards away. Evaríncel landed with a thunderous crash, running down the side of the hill to lesson his momentum. Turning, Thane's partner surveyed him with bright, intelligent eyes. Despite seeing him daily, Thane never failed to marvel at the dragon's size. Since they had first met, all those years ago in Ilirea, the dragon's size had increased nearly ten-fold. He was now six feet tall at the shoulder and nearly twenty-three feet from nose to tail. His scales, which had been dull and lifeless when he had been born, were now hard as diamond and cast a halo of light around his body.

Approaching his rider, Evaríncel ducked his head to but Thane's chest. Thane laughed, reaching up to scratch the dragon under his chin. The dragon hummed softly, blinking his sparkling eyes. "Where shall we go first?"

_Salmora Falls? A swim is a fine way to start a morning._

"Indeed, though I will refrain from joining you. I need my strength for tomorrow. The flight is long and the winds are strong. I cannot afford to waste my energy today."

_You're worried? They said we take the journey in steps. We do not have to fly all the way through. _

"Even so, I would prefer not to tire myself. I do not want my first appearance in Alagaësia to find me labored and frothing at the mouth like a rabid dog."

Thane snorted, climbing into the saddle nestled between the spines on the white dragon's back. "Then we will take it easy today."

He felt a mighty bunching of muscles beneath himself as he settled in, and then Evaríncel's white wings rose and fell once. The ground fell away, slowly and jerkily at first, and then with increasing speed and grace. They rose into the air and Thane felt wind brush across his face. Across the valley, the sun was just peering over the rim of the mountains, casting a warm, golden glow on the world. It touched the ruby statue that sat at the very top of Cieráed. The giant gem, which had been carved in the likeness of a dancing flame, blazed to light and the sun touched its glistening edges. As they rose, the light seemed to flicker, exploding into a vibrant rainbow of reds and yellows. In the very depths of the stone, a faint sputtering of blue and white completed the sculpture. The carving at been a gift from the dwarf-king Orik when Eragon had completed the tower that would house the next generation of riders. It had been a fitting gift for a fortress aptly named The Fire Mountain.

As they soared over the landscape, Thane gazed at the ground below them, noting the various landmarks that had always guided him home as a child. At the base of Vrenbana lay the city of Thralmurdras. Inhabited by non-riders of all races, the city was a cultural goldmine. It had not taken Eragon long to realize that it would require far more people to create a working base of operations for the new Dragon Riders. He had extended an invitation to a select few members of each race and many, though not all, had answered his call. The buildings were of a design unlike that of any individual race, the result of collaboration between the dwarves, elves, urgals, and humans.

Trees of many species lined the roads that spiderwebbed through the town. The elves who had come to live in Vrenbana had brought with them their beloved trees, seeds and seedlings from their native home in Du Weldenvarden. Here and there, a small herb garden peeked disturbed the grassy plan that played host to the town. Thane had been surprised to discover that the Urgals shared the elves love of growing things. Their shamans were among the best healers in the valley, for their knowledge of tonics and poultices was extensive. Humans there were as well, who had brought their various cultures and religions to the new city. Also, they had brought their livestock, which even now were surely grazing on the Planes of Miremal, far to the south.

Thane knew nearly every inch of this valley, had covered it both on foot and on dragon-back. It felt strange, to realize that after tomorrow, he would not see Vrenbana again for many, many years.

"If we ever return at all." The growling voice of his partner echoed in his mind.

_Someday we will. When we are elders and it is time for us to take on apprentices of our own. Someday, when the responsibility of training the next generation of riders falls to us, then we shall return to here, to our home._

"Our home" The dragon's agreement radiated from the warm glow of his consciousness. It was tinged, however, by a sliver of sadness. The white dragon had been so young when they had left the capitol, his earliest memories were of Du Weldenvarden, which could hardly be counted characteristic of Alagaësia. More so for him than for Thane, Vrenbana was home. The though made Thane's throat tighten. Steeling himself for the day's activities and bent lower over Evaríncel's neck as the dragon extended his wingbreats and soared over the valley.


	8. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The clang of metal striking metal rang across the shores of Lake Gjera. Keres's arms and shoulders shrieked in protest as she parried Koaloth's blow. The huge urgal bellowed at her, swinging his broadsword around his head. Sidestepping another blow, she struck out at his hip, nicking him hard enough to draw blood even with their blocked blades. Her left arm ached where a purpling bruise had formed just below her shoulder, a memento of blow that she had failed to fully avoid. Keres leapt backward as the broadsword whipped in front of her, its tip passing mere inches from her nose. She twisted as she landed, flicking her blade behind her to parry the blow that Dirlaga sent whistling toward her legs.

When she had realized that this was to be a full-on battle session with the other apprentices, Keres had been delighted. Not only had Rhunön and Ethowyn attended, but the other elders had assembled to watch their respective charges. Even now, a circle of multi-colored dragons ringed the area where the three apprentices fought. The strange, shifting patterns thrown off the dragons' scales sent odd flickers of color across the emerald ground.

Saphira lay like a massive, blue hill, Eragon standing at her head. Her massive skull was nearly as tall as he was. Beside her was Bitxi, the lilac dragon bonded to the dwarf rider, Grundir. Despite her age, she was one of the smaller dragons. Her delicate neck was arched as she surveyed the battlefield with glittering eyes. Laying half-in, half-out of the water was the sand colored Halastair. His rider, Maira, sat on his back, her long legs crossed and draped over the side of her dragon. Next to Halastair stood Nyokatare, a pale blue dragon with a single scar down the side of his face. His elf rider, Narilaer, stood beside him, his black hair shimmering glistening in the light reflected off his dragon's hide. On the opposite side of the clearing, Vikonyx stood beside Rackenbreak and Atâra, the dragons bonded with Koaloth and Dirlaga.

Keres grunted, her concentration returning to the battle as Dirlaga rapped her across the shoulder blades. She staggered forward, ducking over a stroke that Koaloth sent skimming over her head. Leaping forward, Keres planted both of her feet against the urgal's broad chest and, before he could respond, kicked him away, vaulting up and over the head of the dwarf apprentice. Her sword, a hand-and-a-half blade like her master's, felt light as a feather in her grasp. As she landed, Keres struck at Dirlaga from behind, landing a solid blow against the dwarf's shoulder. At almost the same instant, Koaloth struck the shield the dwarf held in her off hand, sandwiching her beneath the weight of the two blades. For a heartbeat there was stillness, and then Dirlaga ducked away from them both, freeing herself from the crushing vice. As the dwarf scrambled away, Keres blocked a backhanded blow from the urgal, gritting her teeth in a feral snarl as she thrust his blade away.

Three way fights were always difficult, but this was tougher than most. Keres, familiar as she was with fighting with Eragon, was used to having opponents that were both stronger and faster than her. However the height difference between the three apprentices made battle taxing. Koaloth's overhanded blows were nearly impossible to block as the effort felt as though it should have splintered her arm like a matchstick. He was clearly destined to be a kull, a fact that his bulging muscles attested to quite well. Dirlaga, on the other hand, was much shorter than the opponents Keres was used to fighting. Her blows always fell lower than Keres was expecting them and several bruises that mottled the tanned skin gave testament to the dwarf's handiwork. She was not exceptionally fast or strong, but she always chose the right moment to strike, a skill that Eragon was at great pains to teach Keres.

Though Koaloth had the advantage of size and weight, Keres was much faster than her opponent. Ducking beneath a second blow, she slipped inside his range and rapped him three times in quick succession: once on the thigh, once on the shoulder, and once on the crown of his head. As he staggered, Keres caught a glimpse of Dirlaga, hacking at the urgal's exposed back. Even as her final blow landed, Koaloth struck Keres a sharp blow in the center of her chest with one, huge fist. He simultaneously lashed a backward kick at Dirlaga, which sent the girl reeling. Keres flew backward, her breath leaving her lungs in a single _whoosh_. She crashed down on her back some eight yards away, tumbling heels over head before managing to right herself.

Even as she landed, she felt the sharp, stabbing pain of Dirlaga attempting to break into her mind. Koaloth never resorted to such methods. His mind was well shielded, but outside of it he was weak. Dirlaga, on the other hand was openly assaulting Keres' mind, which meant she felt safer attacking then defending. Fending off the assault, Keres sent a spear of her thought at the other apprentice and had the satisfaction of watching the dwarf-girl flinch. In the momentary reprieve, Keres dove aside as Koaloth sent a crushing blow down into the ground where she had been a moment earlier. Keres retreated, shifting her sword from hand to hand as she glanced back and forth between the two apprentices.

Having missed his mark once, Koaloth turned to meet Dirlaga's charge and dealt the smaller rider a blow that Dirlaga barely blocked with her shield. Still, the impact sent the dwarf tumbling as Koaloth turned his attention back to Keres. Twirling her sword in a small circle, Keres dropped into a crouch and threw her mind at the dwarf's. Dirlaga struggled to block the attack, throwing up barrier after barrier of gem-encrusted walls before Keres' prying mind. Koaloth's bellow startled the human girl, so much so that she almost lost her concentration and had to struggle to maintain her mental attack. Then, an opportunity presented itself. As Dirlaga was staggering to her feet, her hand alit on a thorny sandspur and she jerked in surprise. The small distraction lessened the strength of her defenses and Keres redoubled her assault as the urgal charged.

The ground shook as Koaloth sprinted toward her, howling in rage. Mentally measuring the distance between them, Keres gave one final push at Dirlaga's mind and felt the barriers shatter beneath her might. At once, Dirlaga's memories and thought flooded into Keres' head. Immobilizing the dwarf, Keres turned her attention to the urgal who was now a scant 10 yards away. Grasping her sword in one hand, she dug her feet into the ground, strengthening her stance. As he neared her, she dropped her voice, legs churning and lips moving as she frantically mouthed, "Frestin iet legras." The resulting surge of speed nearly blinded her. Koaloth's massive form dissolved into a blur as she flashed past him, swinging her sword in a wide, sweeping arc. The impact sent a shockwave up her arms that nearly tore her shoulders from their sockets.

Then she released the flow of magic and whirled, ready to defend herself if Koaloth decided to attack again. Privately, she prayed that he wouldn't be up to fighting anymore. Her hands were trembling on the hilt of her sword and her arms screamed in protest as she brought her sword up to blocking height. Much to her delight, Koaloth was in no position to counterattack. The urgal had sunk to his knees, clutching his stomach and groaning to himself.

Eragon's clear voice called out. "The fight is over. Keres is the winner." Keres heard Vikonyx's roar of approval as she sank to the ground, letting out a long sigh of exhaustion. A hand descended onto her shoulder and she looked up into the face of her master. Though his expression was serious, his eyes were glittering with delight. She touched his hand with her own, allowing him to help her back to her feet.

"You did well, Keres-ungr."

"Thank you master."

"Are you hurt?"

"A few bruises and some scratches, nothing that won't heal."

He gestured to where Narilaer was kneeling beside his apprentice. "You broke a few of his ribs. He'll be fine, but if that had hit Dirlaga . . ." He trailed off.

Keres nodded tiredly, "If it had been Dirlaga, it wouldn't have taken that kind of hit to bring her down." She shoved her sword back into her sheath, groaning as the muscles in her arms flexed and tightened. "Feels like I hit a brick wall."

"That seems an appropriate analogy." Reaching down, he ran his hands over her arms, supporting their weight himself when they began to tremble too severely. "Nothing torn or broken here." He finally announced. "You'll feel it for a day or so . . . but that might not be a bad thing. Remember, magic"

"Yes I know." She cut him off, "Magic always has a price." He raised an eyebrow at her and she hastily amended her comment, "I mean . . . yes master."

He nodded, turning his attention to the waiting crowd. His eyes met Saphira's and the massive dragon lifted her sculpted head. "Now, dragons, your riders have shown us their skills, now it is your turn. Fly swift. Fly true and show us the power of your wings."

The world shook as Rackenbreak let out a rumbling roar and three sets of wings shattered the air as the dragons launched themselves into the sky. Before their connection became strained, Keres touched the mind of her partner. _Good luck Vikonyx. Fly well. _

"You did well heart-sister. Now I shall do the same." Though the contact was brief, a warm glow of pride flared through their mental link before Vikonyx severed it. Lifting her face to the sky, Keres sighed, feeling the hot touch of the sun on her face as she watched the three, multicolored dots rise into the sky and begin their duel.

Frestin iet legras – Strengthen my legs


	9. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The sun had already dipped toward the horizon when Thane and Evaríncel finally returned to Cieráed. Though the mountains surrounding the valley were collectively dubbed the Ealdin Mountains or Mountains of Dawn, Thane thought that dusk was the most beautiful time in Vrenbana. The purplish-pink glow was painting the western sky as the white dragon glided slowly into their shared room on the fourth level of the Fire Mountain. This level, along with those above and the one immediately below was pockmarked with deep, black holes that opened into the inner rooms of the structure. Evaríncel's claws clicked on the stone floor as he set down, folding his wings so as not to brush the walls of his room. Unstrapping his legs, Thane slid to the floor, mentally and emotionally drained.

Their final day in Vrenbana had been more difficult than he had expected. Worst of all had been the hours they had spent walking through the city of Thralmurdras as the day waned. The merry, gaily lit streets were unlike any other place in the world. The flameless lanterns that burned in every color imaginable were just being lit and even now set a multicolored glow dancing into the sky above. Melodies of the elves, of men, of dwarves, and of urgals wound together into a chorus of unimaginable beauty that seemed to give voice to the earth itself. The streets, built after the fashion of Doru Araeba, were wide enough for two dragons to walk abreast. However, Eragon and the founders of the village had agreed that it would make little sense to attempt to replicate the scale of the ancient city. Dragons, Saphira had stated, were not meant to live indoors. However, the bizarre mix of cultures had still created a breathtaking collage of buildings. The knowledge that they would not walk amongst the rainbow streets for many years roused a dull ache in his chest that constricted his breathing.

"It is a most wonderful city." His partner turned a single, glistening eye toward him. "Yet Alagaësia may also yield cities the likes of which we have never seen."

_I know. I remember the cities only vaguely. Tierm with its high walls and harbors, Dras Leona with its towering spires, and Ilirea, with its castle and mansions. _

"I wish to see the Hadarac Desert. The dragons of old nested in the mountains of the desert and I have seen the image in the minds of the Eldunarí and the older dragons. It looks like a good place for flying."

_We are being stationed at Sunvarda, the fortress that overlooks Dras Leona. It is a far flight, but I think we would be able to . . . _He broke off as a vast, immensely powerful mind touched his. The touch was unfamiliar and he recoiled from it as Evaríncel hissed in surprise. For a heartbeat, the two threw up mental barrier after mental barrier before the massive thought, but still it overwhelmed them. It was like being caught up and swept away in a wave. It simply engulfed them. Thane found himself looking at a swirling vortex of midnight-blue stars.

"Unnecessary, but impressive hatchlings." A feminine, rumbling voice spoke in his mind. Recognition flooded through him and he relaxed, his fingers loosening on Kveykva's hilt.

_Yismora-elda._ It had only been a few nights since Nyokatare had explained to the partners the concept of the Eldunarí. The knowledge, he had said, was reserved for dragons and riders who had completed their apprenticeship. By that time, they had grown to respect each other enough to handle the knowledge properly. Afterwards, the blue dragon had taken them to the hidden room in the upper levels of Cieráed where every Eldunarí in Vrenbana was housed. Cuaroc, the dragon-headed guardian of the Eldunarí, had sat in a carved throne against one wall. As Thane and the two dragons entered, he had risen to his feet to challenge them, only returning to his seat when Nyokatare introduced both Thane and Evaríncel. Though Thane had never heard of the purple dragon, Evaríncel was undoubtedly impressed and recognized the name.

The sensation of being watched by so many dragons had been unnerving to say the least. Though they lacked physical bodies, he could feel their minds touching his, feel the weight of their thoughts. He had spoken to several of the Eldunarí, mostly those of dragons who had been bonded with riders. These communicated with words. Umaroth had been prevalent among them, as he was related, by blood, to Evaríncel. Overall, Thane and his dragon had been astonished by the sheer age of the Eldunarí. Hundreds of years of knowledge resided within the walls of that tiny room. A few wild dragons had opted to touch his mind as well. More had spoken to Evaríncel, whom Thane could tell was slightly unnerved by the experience, but five had spoken to him as well. Their minds had felt alien, as many had elected to speak in images rather than in discernible words. One, a large, silver Eldunarí, had left him with a rather cryptic image of a single, glittering star amidst the inky blackness of a night sky.

The mind touching his, he now realized, belonged to a blue dragon named Yismora. Nyokatare had told him that she had been bonded to a human rider named Arlen. He had been killed by the Forsworn during the fall of the riders, but she had managed to bear his body back to Vroenguard before succumbing to her wounds. The story had been accompanied by a brief image of the smallish, midnight-blue dragon gleaned from the mind of one of the elder dragons. Her wings were torn in several placed. Flaps of skin hung limply from her frame. As she began her ascent, struggling to stay aloft, she turned and Thane saw a gaping wound in her chest that stretched from between her front legs partway up her neck. With each, shuddering breath she took, bloody froth sprayed from her rent throat. It had been a horrible sight, one that made his chest ache.

The dragon spoke again, drawing his attention away from his reverie. "My apologies for frightening you. Without a body, this is the only way I can get your attention."

The dragon paused for a moment and the swirling vortex of blue stars shifted slightly. When the silence continued to length, Evaríncel prompted, "What was it you wanted Yismora-elda?"

"Ah yes," The blue dragon sounded as if she were shaking herself, "I am told that you will return to Alagaësia on the morrow. I wish to accompany you."

Silence fell as Thane and Evaríncel stared at each other, dumbfounded. Cautiously, the dragon responded. "You are welcome to come master, but why have you selected us?"

A hum of amusement sounded inside Thane's head as the dragon answered. "Ralihirn and Bodrin are too cautious. They would rather avoid a battle and let their scales rust rather than risk being bitten. Ethrunor," Here the dragon hissed slightly, a tone of disgust tingeing her words, "is convinced that the wind-dulled scales of his hatchling are more beautiful than were my own." Her disapproval was evident and Thane had to quickly hide his amusement before the old dragon sensed it. "Your scales are bright enough, for a male, and you, young Thane-vodhr, your mind is sharp. Yes, I will travel with you. I wish to see the land I loved, the land Arlen loved . . ." At this she fell into a brooding silence. Finally she murmured, "Come and retrieve my heart in the morning. Eragon is already aware of my decision and has given his blessing. Fare you well, until the day comes." With that, she withdrew, leaving behind an empty void within Thane's mind.

Evaríncel was the first to speak. "We are lucky that she has chosen us. Another mind, the mind of an elder dragon no less, will be useful to have around once we reach Alagaësia."

Thane wordlessly agreed, pushing back the wall that separated his dragon's room and bed from his own. The once well-furnished quarters were now quite spartan in appearance. Though the furniture remained, the empty dresser and chest of drawers served as a reminder that he would never return, at least not to this room. When he did return, it would be to quarters higher up in the tower, the quarters of the elders. Stripping off his shirt, Thane glanced at the timepiece on his mantle. They had barely a half-hour until the celebration.

He felt a shiver run through him as he hastily began washing in the tub set into the wall on one side of the room. He had attended several such celebrations before, but this was his. Every time a cohort of riders graduated from their training and received their orders, all riders in Vrenbana came together with their dragons for one final feast. If the rumors he had heard were true, the cooks had been preparing all week for the festivities. The number of rider-bonded dragons in Vrenbana was larger than it had ever been, meaning much more work than the cooks were used to. Thane smiled, picturing the head cook, Feldor. The old man would be in a foul mood right up until his dishes were served, at which point he would wash his hands of the affair and enjoy the festivities.

He had barely managed to wriggle into a set of fresh clothes before the door boomed open and Ethrunor burst into the room. The urgal swung his heavy-browed head toward where Thane stood frozen, his left boot still in his hand. "You know, there is a reason that we have doors and not open doorways." Ralihirn's mild voice sounded from behind the massive figure. The elf sounded halfway between amusement and annoyance.

Ethrunor's massive jaws worked as he spoke. "If you small-ones wanted to keep the urgralgra out, you would have made heavier doors."

"Then how would we open them?"

Before the urgal could respond, Thane tugged the boot onto his foot and spoke up. "Either way, I'm ready now. Shall we be off?"

"Aye" Ethrunor grunted, retreating back through the door. He was replaced by Bodrin, whose sandy-brown hair was in its usual state of disarray.

Bodrin flashed Thane a smile, "Strange, to be going to one of these being thrown for us."

"I was just thinking the same thing."

"It's gonna be weird to go back."

Thane chuckled, pausing at the door as Bodrin stepped back to let him through. "I spent so much of my life there wishing I was here. Now that I've been here so long, I'm glad for the change of pace but . . ." He trailed off, not certain how he was planning to end the statement.

Bodrin nodded knowingly. "I understand."

The clack of claws across the room told Thane that Evaríncel had risen and was making his way toward the hole in the wall. Reaching back toward his partner, Thane spoke. _Do you suppose these are as fun when you're the one leaving in the morning?_

"Of course not." The dragon rumbled. "We have to fly in the morning. If I have to be sober, so do you."


	10. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Keres winced as she lifted her goblet, toasting the four new riders who would leave Vrenbana in the morning. Eragon did not allow her to heal bruises or small scrapes until a day after she had received them. He claimed that if she could simply heal her injuries right after they happened, she would never appreciate how she had received them. This lack of appreciation, he had told her, made it more likely that she would injure herself unnecessarily or allow others to injure her needlessly. Bringing the goblet to her lips, she let out a low groan, feeling the numerous bruises on her arms and back throb. _He makes it sound like I injure myself intentionally, or allow myself to be injured. I don't like getting hurt._

A fresh round of cheers drew her attention and she glanced up at the head table, where the newest group of riders sat. The head table was usually reserved only for the elders, however, for this one night, the newest riders were allowed to sit at the head table. It was considered a taste of what was to come, for it was expected that every rider would return to Vrenbana after serving in Alagaësia. The urgal, the elf, and the two humans who made up the most recent cohort exchanged friendly banter with those sitting closest to them. Every rider and bonded dragon that lived in Vrenbana were now gathered together in the outside meal hall to celebrate the graduation of the newest group of riders. Unlike the main hall, this meal hall had open sides to allow the dragons to join in the festivities taking place within. It was set up against the side of Cieráed and boasted access both to the open elements, through three sides, and to the main fortress itself though the left hand side.

She recognized them all of course. She had trained with each of them at some point during her apprenticeship. The urgal, whose name was Ethrunor, was on the smallish side for his breed. Koaloth, despite being several years younger, already towered over his elder kin. His size, however, did not take away from his ferocity and the overwhelming vigor with which he attacked all aspects of life. Ralihirn, the elf, was less agreeable. His superior attitude had done nothing to endear him to Keres during their few joint training exercises. Still, he was a skilled swordsman whose speed had tested even her reflexes. Bodrin, one of the two human riders, was likeable enough. On the whole, Keres thought he was a rather simple soul, but that wasn't necessarily a criticism. Then there was Thane. Keres had been skeptical when she had heard that one of the human princes had been chosen as a rider, but she had come to admire the confident young man. On the few occasions they had trained together she had found him polite, if dry-witted. She had always assumed that she would graduate with this cohort. She had been wrong.

As another gale of laughter emanated from the main table, Keres' frown deepened. Though her rank would have accorded her a position amidst the assembled riders, she had, instead, elected to sit off to one side where her black mood wouldn't disturb the festivities. What bothered her went deeper than the throbbing of her injured limbs. Setting the goblet back down on the table, she glared into the depths of her wine.

_I should be going with them. I've been here longer than any other apprentice has ever remained. _

From her place amongst the dragons, who ringed the festivities, Vikonyx shifted and turned in the direction of her rider. "You were also younger than any apprentice who has ever come to Vrenbana."

_I was here three years before any of them and I am, at the very least, their equal. I surpassed all but Ralihirn in magic and all but Ethrunor in strength, and all but Thane in mental combat._

"Perhaps," the dragon mused, "Eragon is waiting until you are unsurpassed in all three."

Keres hand tightened on her fork as she jabbed moodily at her plate of food. _Perhaps he is waiting because he is a fool. _

"Careful." The warning growl that issued from her dragon was a rumble that vibrated within Keres' chest cavity. "Do not let your anger goad you into rash statements. You know that is not the case."

_Can you see any other reason for him to wait? I'm nearly as strong as he was when he faced Galbatorix, and he was a full rider for years before that happened._

"His case was . . . special."

Frustration surged through her and Keres ground her teeth, growling back at her dragon. _Why are you protecting him? You're supposed to be on my side. _

"I am not protecting him." A flicker of annoyance resounded from the dragon's mind. "I'm protecting you from your own foolishness. Eragon and Saphira must have a good reason for holding us here. Do not be so eager to leave this place. Remember, we are the only apprentices of Eragon Shadeslayer and Saphira Brightscales, Leaders of the Dragon Riders. Even Tarehlak and Gintare were trained jointly by Eragon and Arya. We are the first apprentices who have been trained exclusively by the leaders of the Dragon Riders. If they wish to teach us more than the others, we should be eager to learn." She punctuated the remark by cracking the thigh bone of a Hethor, one of the large, deer-like animals native to Vrenbana and the surrounding area.

The truth of the dragon's words made them even more difficult to hear and Keres hissed beneath her breath. To her surprise, something beneath the table hissed back and then a furry creature brushed against her shins. Starting in surprise, Keres lowered her eyes to find a small, grey tortoiseshell cat looking up at her. His blue eyes glistened with curiosity as he hopped up to sit beside her. His ears twitched, causing the faint, white tassels to bob and sway as he took in the scene before him. His tail swished as he studied the feast.

Reaching toward a platter that sat on the table, Keres tugged a chicken leg free from roast and set it in a small butter dish before laying it on the bench in front of the creature. "Good evening Arlentor. Tired of hanging out with the ladies?"

"Apparently not. I came here to talk to you didn't I?" The voice that spoke within her mind was silky smooth and rippled with the faintest hint of a purr.

"I don't know. Did you?"

His tail twitched and he bared his teeth in a grin. "You are learning." The werecat dipped his head and tore a mouthful of meat off the bone. "On the whole I think I did. You are amusing."

Keres chuckled, "I'll take that as a compliment, coming from you. I haven't seen your mother or your sisters around here. Did they not come?"

"Caline has found that she prefers the company of the elves. Keldenkógr has proven to be right up her alley. Fringala has elected to stay at Crossergate. Mother," his lip curled slightly at the word, "decided that it was a good night for moon-fishing. MOON-FISHING! Can you imagine? With all this excitement and food she wants to go fishing?" The disbelief was evident in his voice.

"Well," Keres said struggling to keep the corners of her mouth from twitching, "at least you graced us with your presence. For that, we will be forever grateful."

"Sarcasm does not become you Keres-ungr." He swallowed and consumed a few more mouthfuls before he spoke again. "I was also sent here by your master to tell you that your training tomorrow will take place on the southern shore of Lake Miraloft." He ran a pink tongue over his whiskers, "So it would seem that my visit was both business and pleasure." Setting down the now clean bone on the plate, he twitched his tail at her and leapt neatly off the bench, disappearing beneath the tables.

Keres stared after him, not quite drained of her anger, but too amused to let it overtake her again. _I don't think I will ever understand that cat._

"Werecat" Vikonyx corrected. "He likes you. So far as I know, you are the only apprentice that he has ever bothered to speak with regularly."

_I'm also not sure how I feel about being termed amusing._

"You are amusing." Wolfing down the last few bites of her meal, Vikonyx looked over at her rider. "Do not be angry tonight. This is a night for merriment and delight. If you don't want to be here, there are various diversions at our disposal. Come, let us go for a swim. Go and get your things and I will join you on the shore."

Setting down her goblet, Keres slipped silently out a side door to the main hallway. The corridors were empty, making it exceptionally easy to make her way back to her room. Within twenty minutes, she had changed into the tight, half-shirt and trousers that she used as her swimming attire. Wrapping a thick, heavy cloak around herself, she quickly made her way back down the stairs, taking care to avoid the hallway that would lead her past the festivities. She stepped back out into the night air. Now the only thing that lay between her and the lake was the large cluster of lights and houses that was the city of Thralmurdras.

The inhabitants were winding down their activities for the night. The few who had elected not to enjoy the festivities at the main fortress were quickly making their way along the well-paved streets. Though the city could not equal the splendor of the Riders' first city, Doru Areba, Keres privately thought that she preferred the smaller scale of Thralmurdras. The streets were wide enough for dragons to traverse and each house boasted at least one window large enough to accommodate a dragon's head. Beyond that, the scale was relatively normal. This was more practical, she had decided early in her youth. Dragons were not meant to be in houses or regular buildings. Also, the city boasted more urgal and dwarf buildings than its predecessor. The eclectic mix of buildings, made similar by the materials which made up each, presenting a rather pleasing mix of color and shape. More importantly, each building was painted a different color, a trait which had, before it had been intentional, given the Rainbow City its name.

Quickly traversing the backroads of the city, if any were small enough to be called such, Keres reached the lake within minutes. Stripping off her heavy cloak and boots, she wedged them both between the branches of a nearby tree. The thick, emerald grass was soft and springy beneath her feet. It continued all the way down the bank to the water's edge, where she tentatively took a few steps toward the center of the lake. Water lapped at her ankles as her toes sunk into soft, squishy mud. Muttering a quick spell to keep the water out of her nose, she pulled the tie out of her hair, letting the white locks cascade over her shoulders and down her back. The water was cool, cooler than she would have liked. But Keres stayed were she was, gradually letting her body acclimate to the temperature. About every minute of so, she took a step deeper into the water.

Then, a heavy, buffeting wind struck her back and she stumbled as the air around her shattered from a furious concussion. She shrieked as a claw closed around her body and lifted her high into the air. The ascent was dizzying, and was only matched when the claw released her about twenty feet above the gentle waves. Her arms flailed as she twisted, glimpsing a dark, winged figure high above her before she struck the water. Bubbles obscured her vision as she plunged into the cool depths of the lake. As she broke the surface, she shook the water from her eyes, laughing uproariously as, far to her left, Vikonyx dove. A few moments later, a wave of water crashed over Keres' head. She allowed the wave to tumble her heels over head, and then came up for air.

The black dragon's serpentine head emerged from the water a few feet away. Swimming toward it, Keres draped herself over the muzzle. "You're right. I do feel better."

The dragon hummed, blowing out a long breath of air. Arching her back, Vikonyx lifted her shoulders out of the water, twisting her head around to allowing Keres to scramble into her usual place between the gap in the dragon's spines. The slick scales dug lightly into the insides of her legs, but not enough to hurt. The dragon reared, sending a tower of spray into the air, and her huge wings unfolded as she leapt free of the lake's surface. The pair rose into the sky, trailing water behind them like a comet's tail. Then, at the height of her climb, Vikonyx folded her wings and plummeted into the water. The cool surface erupted as the dragon arrowed into it, forming a wall that nearly ripped Keres out of her seat when she submerged.

The white-haired girl closed her eyes, pressing herself as close to her dragon's neck as she could. She was dancing in the darkness. Her hair swirled around her as Vikonyx turned fantastic shapes beneath the surface, twisting and twirling in the blackness. Opening her mouth, the girl uttered a quick spell and, as it took effect, drew in a gushing breath of air. Relaxing into her seat, Keres allowed herself to be swept up in the beauty of the motion. Her dragon's long, sinuous frame made her perfectly suited for air and water. She swam like a snake, her tail directing the motions of her body.

Then she broke the surface, leaping back into the air. As she rose, Keres loosened her grip, curled her knees up to her chest, and vaulted backward off the dragon's back. She backflipped, avoiding the sharp spines that ridged Vikonyx's back, then splashed back into the water. Again and again her dragon dipped to retrieve her and over and over Keres took flight, arcing through the air to land in the cool, dark water. Her shrieks of mirth echoed over the valley, wild and exhilarated with the strength of her freedom. Final, exhausted and bedraggled, Keres pulled herself onto her dragon's back and lay, panting against the black scales. Between her legs, she felt Vikonyx begin to hum.

"Our lives are not so bad heart-sister." She murmured softly, "Do not rush into our responsibilities. We have years, decades, centuries to take up whatever task is appointed to us. For now, let us be young, let us be wild, and let us be free."

Keres sighed, leaning her head against the snake-like neck in front of her. _I suppose that does sound nice. Still, I wish I could at least have my sword._

Vikonyx' hum grew louder as amusement colored her mood. As the dragon made her way back toward the Fire Mountain, which loomed like a beacon in the distance, Keres watched the moonlight reveal shards of color within the dragon's black scales. The sparkles winked in and out of existence in a never ending cycle. Red and blue and white and gold and green they danced across her mind until sleep overtook her and her eyes finally closed.

Attention Readers: Risa will be on hiatus for the next couple of weeks. The next chapter will post July 11th.


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Inheritance Cycle, Adventure, Friendship