Eragon: Wyrda abr du Garjzla (Closed)

Dawn's faint rays passed through the narrow arrow slits at the top of the tallest tower in Galbatorix's castle. Ex castle. It would have to be torn down and replaced with something beautiful, decided a young man who descended the stairs to the bottom of the tower. A blue sword hung loosely from his hand, with a trail of blood running down the edge. Some of it was the boy's own. His garb, a set of black chain armor, was crushed in places from impact with various swords. His dirty-blonde hair was messy and matted down with layers of dirt.

The only sound he could hear was the echoes of his own footsteps in the tall hallway. The sounds of the wind-blown voices all around him must have been his imagination. The Riders have returned to Alagaesia.

He wearily established the mental link to his dragon, who was hovering somewhere high above him. Saphira. His singular statement, transmitted with emotion, was both a question and an answer to her unspoken communication.

He saw in his mind the mental image of a broken black dragon's body, far below him on the plains.Shruikan is dead, she told him, with the help of Thorn. The final word of that statement might have made Eragon laugh any other day; it was tinged with emotion. Saphira had never quite forgiven Thorn for his perceived betrayal of dragonkind. I assume that Galbatorix is dead?

His blood covers Brisngr's blade. I'll meet you outside the castle. He disconnected the mental link, unable to focus with the continued whisperings of the walls and the floors. A new leader will rise from among the ranks of the poor and the weary.Of course, there was always another possibility - that the noises came from the head-sized green stone under his arm. Its emerald surface illuminated beneath the continual influence of the light from the window. The third and final dragon's egg.

Seek the source of light from the depths of a dark place.

As Eragon stepped into the light and open air of the morning, he was met with his ragged group of followers - the only members of the Varden brave and powerful enough to accomany the two Riders on their near-suicidal mission. The rest were on the edge of the Hadarac Desert, fighting as a distraction for this group. Eragon would be forced to travel there next, to see if there was any way to help the brave members of the Resistance group.

Upon seeing their battle-weary leader, the group hoarsely cheered, thrusting swords and fists into the air. He is not the one; seek out your truth in the proper places. Eragon sheathed his sword and placed a hand on his forehead. This would be exhausting.

---

In a nearby tent, which had been deemed for medical purposes, a girl with flaming curly hair yelled in pain as the Varden healer wrapped a broken thigh with a splint. "Hold on, I have to tie that up before I can fix it," the healer informed her. Gritted teeth was the only response that the woman received as she muttered a few words in the ancient language. Though the girl could not understand her words, she could tell that they had been intended to to heal her broken leg, which soon set back in its original state. She tested it cautiously. "It works," said the girl, amazed.

The healer snorted. "Yes, Mehkila, it works. Now, clear out; the battle just ended, so I'm about to receive a load of wounded folk."

A sheen of sweat dripped down the face of a very tired looking man as he leaned against the blasted wall for a moment. He took deep breaths, trying to regain some strength before he looked to see his brother leave the tower. Murtagh was a man of great strength and power, but it amazed him at how calm Eragon was after defeating the most powerful man in Alagaesia. He shook his head lightly before he pushed away from the wall and cleaned his sword. He looked at the dead body of Galbatorix and frowned. That man had destroyed so many lives, it seemed a little strange that he was finally gone.

Murtagh sighed and sheathed his clean sword as he headed back out of the tower. He took the same path that Eragon had, knowing that they'd have to fly soon and help the Resistance as they were probably still in an awful battle. Galbatorix may finally be dead, but there was plenty of grunt work to do to have everything peaceful again. It would take quite a while for them to clean up the mess that Galbatorix had made, but he was confident they could.

They finally had the last egg in their possession. He was sure that they would be able to bring back the dying dragon race and the riders. He was excited at the thought to see their world full of dragons and riders again. He knew Sapphira loathed his dragon Thorn, and that was a little harsh since Thorn had no choice in betraying his own kind. He just hoped that Sapphira would be partial to the green dragon and would lay some eggs so they could bring back the line of dragons and riders.

Murtagh, are you all right? the rumbling voice of Thorn penetrated Murtagh's mind.

I am fine my friend, I am simply very tired. Our fight is not yet over, we still need to travel with Eragon to the Hadarac Desert. Murtagh sighed at the thought. He had great stamina, but even a Dragon Rider got exhausted with too much fighting.

Murtagh heared the sounds of cheers, and as he exited the castle, he saw the weary group of fighters clapping Eragon on the back. Murtah would let his brother have this moment. He had sacrificed so much, and had let many things pass him by.

His face grew stony as he remembered slaying Arya. Galbatorix had ordered the death of the elf as it was the one link to Eragon's heart other than Sapphira. The hope was that Eragon would be so distraught, he would be vulnerable and they could capture him. Murtagh had no choice, it seemed that if the battle had lasted just a little longer, she'd still be alive and Eragon wouldn't resent him. Murtagh hadn't wanted to kill her, but he had no choice.

Keep your head out of that place Murtagh, we both know it's dangerous to think about. We couldn't stop it from happening, so stop lingering on those thoughts. Thorn said calmly in Murtagh's mind.

Murtagh could sense Thorn flying in the sky, coming to him. Thorn knew that Murtagh hated the crowds. Both of them hated crowds. They were ready to go continue fighting. Eragon would be held back for a little while, so it was best they started forward to the Hadarac right then and prevent more blood shed.

---

Eva cried out in a mixture of pain and anger as she felt a small arrow lodge itself in her side. Her eyes quickly lit up in furry as she whirrled about to see where the attack came from. She was currently surrounded by five soldiers, all confident in slaying her together. They didn't even realize that her determination was stronger than their's combined.

"You filthy scum!" she shouted as she dodged another arrow. The Resistance was suffering great losses as they were being overwhelmed by Galbatorix's army. It was ridiculous and they were realizing that they wouldn't win this fight. All of them were in their last desperate attempts to drive the horrible men back as their thought of defeating them had soon diminished when they saw the sheer number that they were facing.

"Come on you lousy men, give me all you got." Eva growled as she was back up against a large boulder.

((Don't bother changing anything in your last post, but Eragon doesn't know that Arya was killed by Murtagh. I'm assuming that Eva is part of the group of Varden at the Hadarac Desert?))

---

Eragon climbed to the peak of a small boulder, surveying the damage of the battlefield. The death toll was high on both sides. However, they had been lucky; most of Galbatorix's best soldiers had been dispatched to deal with what they considered the 'last stand' in the Hadarac Desert.

Yeah. Lucky. Not the group that was there, fighting an uncountable number of men.

Eragon, upon the large stone, looked out over the survivors of the battle. Men, elves, dwarves, Urgals. All of them loyal to himself - Eragon Bromson. Even though Murtagh had been freed from Galbatorix's hand some time ago, many of the enemies of the former king viewed him as an enemy in their ranks. Meaning that he himself would have to guide them.

"Members of the Varden." Four words, softly spoken, and yet all of the men and women who had fought were instantly silent. This new Eragon - following the death of Arya - was strong, stoic, and a bit scary. They didn't want to cross him. "We have won the war - but there are many battles to follow this one. Many are still loyal to Galbatorix - meaning that whereever we go, there will always be more enemies to fight." They shifted uncomfortably; they had hoped that the war would now be over, but they could feel the truth to his words.

"Right now, many of our comrades are battling innumerable odds in the Hadarac Desert. They don't have a chance of winning. But only dragons are fast enough to travel there before the battle is over. Therefore, I want everyone who is here - besides myself and Murtagh - to remain here. Guard the dragon egg which we managed to retrieve." He stepped off the rock and walked away, headed toward the most trustworthy person in the entire group.

"Angela, will you hold on to this egg for me?" The woman looked up from fixing her weapon. "I don't trust anyone else enough."

She grinned a catlike grin and said, "Of course I'll hold on to it for you. In fact, I'll keep it in the Healer's tent, since that seems the best place to hold such a thing." She picked up the egg and led Eragon to said tent, where a young woman with red curly hair was sitting on a bed, rubbing her leg. As they walked in, her eyes caught on the egg and lit up.

Eragon watched as it was put in a woven basket, then left. He stopped momentarily as Thorn streaked across the sky, headed in an erratic course to pick up Murtagh. He himself headed toward a spot on the battlefield where he had used the ancient language to send a shock wave almost twenty feet in every direction, also striking the castle wall and knocking open the door.

Saphira was waiting for him there, licking her chops. Ready to go? she asked, turning so that he could easily mount the saddle. "Yes, we have to go if we want to help the Varden." He sat calmly as his dragon and closest friend lifted off and raced into the sky. Then he yelled to his half-brother on the ground, "Murtagh! We have to go..."

((Oh sorry, I wasn't sure about that. Yes, Eva is. I took a small liberty with this post, but it was simply because I wasn't sure what else to put. Hope you're fine with it!))

The large red beast landed on the ground heavily sending small tremors in every direction. He shifted a little uncomfortably as the people stared at him. They just weren't used to him being good. It made him uncomfortable as he watched his rider rush over to him quickly. They both knew that Eragon was going to stay for a little bit to encourage the ragged army that had fought so valiantly against the men at the castle.

Murtagh sighed softly as he approached Thorn. It had been a long day, but he knew that The Resistance was suffering greatly at the hands of the rest of the army. It made him uneasy to think that everyone was so willing to sacrifice their own life for others to have the chance to live free. He felt a little guilty as both he and Thorn had refused to give their own lives when they could have saved so many. Not too long ago he had killed Arya, and it made his stomach sick. The elf warrior was strong, and she was incredible, but Murtagh easily overtook her with Thorn. There was no chance for her, none at all.

Come on, we must be on our way. Thorn's voice rumbled through his mind.

Murtagh groaned uncomfortably before he tightened the saddle upon Thorn's back before nodding his head. They had to leave. Eragon would be close behind them, but there was no time to waste. They needed to go them. He finished checking the saddle before his skin crawled uncomfortably. He looked around, something happened. He wasn't sure what, but as he looked around, he knew it came from the healer's tent.

Did you feel that? he asked Thorn carefully as he stared at the tent. He frowned for a moment. Eragon had the egg with him, and from what he could tell, the egg was by the healer's tent. You don't suppose- Murtagh stopped before he was starting off towards the tent.

Thorn lumbered after him, the people quickly scrambling away from his large feet as rider and dragon alike felt the disturbance. If they had been blocking their minds more, they probably wouldn't have felt the change, but they were both exhausted from taking on formidable foes and they both had a sense and feeling that the egg could've hatched. It didn't seem like it would make any sense. Galbatorix had been pulling in every person he could to get the egg to hatch, Murtagh knew. He had "recruited", that is to say he more or less kidnapped them, men, women, and children alike to see if they could trigger the egg in to hatching. Galbatorix was starting to give up and just left the egg heavily guarded.

Don't get to eager, Thorn warned Murtagh carefully.

Thorn knew he wouldn't fit in the tent to see if the egg had indeed hatched, but as he watched Murtagh disappear into the tent, he could feel the new life bursting from within the tent. He could smell the new scent of a dragon, and he rumbled in excitement. The egg finally hatched!

Murtagh rushed into the tent, and was shocked to see the little green baby peering up at a young woman carefully, blinking his large and glassy eyes. Murtagh stared in awe at the baby. He remembered when Thorn hatched, it was the most incredible feeling he had every known. The rush of emotions as he was linked to the red dragon was overwhelming, and even though he was forced under Galbatorix's power, he had never been happier than having Thorn.

The young woman seemed rather startled, but pleased. Murtagh didn't blame her. She seemed to have taken quite a beating, but the healer had done quite a bit to help heal her so she could tend to the other wounded men and woman who had come along.

Murtagh, we have to go. Every moment we spend here, is a moment wasted. There are people dying. We have done a lot of horrible things together, we need some redemption. Eragon will know what to do with the girl and the dragon, now is not the time to linger. Thorn's voice was warning and Murtagh knew that it was important to get going. He sighed and looked at the girl as he tightened his sword to his sighed.

"Stay where you can be found." His voice was stony and even before he rushed from the healer's tent and climbed aboard Thorn.

The large red dragon shot into the sky, leaving four imprints in the ground where his massive paws had gripped the ground. They would be to the Hadarac Desert soon enough. Murtagh knew that they had caused a lot of pain and had taken many lives, now was their chance. They had helped kill Galbatorix, recover the egg, and now they needed to go rescue the men and women suffering.

---

Eva smiled slightly as she felt the hard rock against her back. She was trapped, but that was good. She fought her best when she was cornered. She growled slightly as this was taking quite a bit from her. She grunted as she used the best of her strength to keep herself from more injury. She really wasn't doing very well.

"Eva!" a voice called through the roar of the battle. She looked passed the soldier's heads and smiled in relief as Haron, her dear friend, was coming to her aid. She watched as three of the men quickly rounded to fight the newcomer.

Eva was quickly gaining her footing and ground as she charged forward with her twin blades in both hands. She was determined to fight them back. She clashed her sword, sweat dripping down her neck as she quickly deflected an attack. The flat part of her enemy's blade pressed against her chain mail and she quickly spun around. She quickly gutted one of the men before she decapitated the other.

She rushed forward, suddenly back to back with Haron. The two fought valiantly and were charged by a large group of soldiers. Both were feeling the weight of the battle and their bodies were groaning in protest as they had never been pushed like this.

"I don't know how long we can hold out!" Haron spoke through gritted teeth.

Eva was about to respond when she felt Haron suddenly collapsing against her. She whirled around and gasped as she saw a spear driven right through him. She only stood there a moment before she quickly guarded his body and took on the group of attackers.

A deep rumbling roar echoed through the air as a large red beast fell from the sky. Eva felt a moment of fear as Murtagh and Thorn arrived. There was no hope now for The Resistance.

She was ready to accept her fate, but he was fighting for them! She cried in triumph.

The men stumbled backward in fear. Murtagh leapt from Thorn and landed easily before charging into the men around Eva. No one was a match against Thorn as all he had to do was step on the men. A large group rallied around the dragon with false hope it taking him down.

"Are you all right?" the gruff voice of Murtagh came to Eva's ears as she stared at him.

She nodded numbly for a moment before she kneeled next to Haron. She had a moment break and watched Murtagh stand defensively in front of her as she began to tend Haron's wound.

"It's too late Eva," his voice cracked and he smiled at her. His reddish hair matted with blood and sweat.

"No it's not." She said as she gently removed the spear before she applied heavy pressure upon his bleeding wound.

The tears came to her eyes as she saw him start to slip from her. She felt anguish in her as she saw the life leave his eyes. In blind anger she rose to her feet, gripping her twin blades, before she rushed forward in a rather suicide attempt in rage.

(It's no problem. I was going to have it go differently, but this is just as good.)

Before Murtagh had a chance to respond, Eragon was gone, spirited away atop Saphira. His dragon's wings beat in time, and before long the landscape had become the sparse terrain of the Hadarac Desert. He would have no time to recover from the weariness of the last combat with Galbatorix, who had been a formidable foe, despite his age.

They crossed the Ramr River, flying easily toward the next battle, which wasn't horribly far from Uru'baen, just northeast. Eragon patted Brisingr, sighed, and blocked out all the memories of the last time he had seen this place at sixteen years of age.

It was bad. Fires lit the Empire's side of the field; they formed almost a complete semicircle around the last stance of Varden, who were fighting valiently to defend their position. The sight of the Rider above, however, acted as a relief; Varden cheered, running toward their opposers with a new strength.

He could see Murtagh behind him at some distance, landing and protecting a group of exhausted people. Eragon scanned the field below, smiting a couple of soldiers with a couple of words in the ancient language. Then he took his bow and began his attack.

There, he had found what he was looking for. Saphira, I can see Roran! She responded instantly by diving toward his trapped cousin, who was fighting five soldiers at one time. He smashed two of them with his hammer, while Eragon took care of the other three using Brisngr, which glowed with blue fire as he spoke its true name.

"Get back to the group!" Eragon yelled above the roar of the battle, renewed with the presence of two Riders. Then he leapt to the top of the rock that Roran stood nearby, using a word of power to magnify the volume of his voice. He hated speaking to groups of people like this, but he was tired of the deaths. He could easily end this conflict.

"Soldiers of the Empire! Listen to me, Eragon Shadeslayer, first of the new Riders!" Two soldiers shot arrows at the young man, but he easily deflected them, sending them back to lodge in the necks of their owners. "We have defeated Galbatorix. He and his evil dragon are both dead."

An uneasy silence spread through both the soldiers and the Varden. They all wondered - with the exception of Murtagh - whether he was telling the truth or not. "You don't believe me? Listen - I have killed Rider Galbatorix and I have a powerful army under my command." His last words were in the ancient language, and the entire battlefield covered itself with debate, before one of the Empire's mages said aloud in shock, "He's telling the truth!"

Eragon smiled as his point was proved. "You can choose to fight us - but what would be the point? We don't wish to harm any of you individually, unless you intend to harm our cause. But what do you really want? To fight, risk death, for a cause that is dead? Or return to your families, save face, and regain what you have lost? I give you that chance. Go, return home, and help me rebuild the Alagaesia that once was!"

---

The girl in the tent was too curious for her own good. The minute that Angela had left to attend to her own needs, Mehkila opened the straw basket and peered inside at the egg within. It was like a great emerald, with traces of golden color within.

Upon an instinct, she touched it lightly with the tips of her long fingers, dropping her slender sword to the ground. A crack resounded through the tent. She almost jumped back, then realized exactly what the large gaping scars that spread along its sides meant. And before long, there was a new being sitting upon her knee.

She opened her mouth, as if to say something, but she looked up to see Rider Murtagh standing against the post that held up the tent. He met her eyes in silence for a second, as if torn, then said curtly, "Stay where you can be found."

With the Rider gone, she wasn't sure what to do. For the time being, however, she set the dragon upon the bedspread that she sat on and watched it.

Eva battled harder than she had before. She was not going to back down, not now. One of her closest friends was gone forever, he was like a brother to her. They had lived their whole lives together, fighting for one another, and keeping each other's back during battles. It made no sense in her mind that he was actually gone, but every time she looked at the unmoving body, it drove her wild.

Her body was ready to just shut down. She had pushed it far passed the limit it should ever go, and yet she was still pushing it. She was determined beyond reality to avenge her friend. The men who had come at her full force, they were starting to retreat a little as it was obvious she was a mad woman. She easily matched the numbers coming at her, and was fighting with a strength that was unreal even in her own mind.

The pain and despair she felt from the loss was driving her out of her mind. She didn't even hear Eragon as he had magnified his voice to speak to the entire battlefield. She was just in a blind rage, her ears shut off so she could focus more easily on her other senses.

Murtagh saw this incredible display, and he saw the fear in the men's eyes. He knew they were ready to surrender, they had heard Eragon's words. Murtagh quickly dipped into the woman's mind and felt the pain, as well as battle stress, from her and quickly moved towards her. She was going to murder a lot of people who didn't deserve it.

As he approached her, she had sensed him and swung around to fight him, but by now she was completely exhausted. Murtagh easily over took her and quickly placed his hand against her head while muttering a spell. She instantly slumped against him from the exhaustion of everything. Her body was grateful at the sudden release from the fight and would need a lot of time to recover.

Murtagh sighed, the soldiers close to him watching him carefully. They watched as he lifted the poor warrior into his arms, along with her two swords, before he carried her across the battle field and to the erected tents.

"She's pushed herself well passed her limit, please keep an eye on her. Her mind is unstable, but she should be unconcious for a while." He informed one of the healer's before he rushed out and found Eragon quickly.

My brother, the egg hatched. A young woman, one that helped storm the castle. I am returning now before anything wrong can happen. He quickly connected to Eragon's mind before calling Thorn. They had to quickly get back, but by then it would be nightfall.

Thorn landed heavily on the ground, and it didn't even seem like he had been fighting. He shifted uncomfortably as Murtagh came over to him before he launched himself into the air, spiraling upwards, before he shot back the way they had come not too long ago. It had been a long day, and he was feeling the weight of the fight pressing down on him.

It is all right to rest, you have enough time to gather a little strength. Thorn assured him gently. He could feel how tired Murtagh was, but even then, he was admired by the determination that his rider had.

Thorn's wings hummed softly through the air as he flew high above the ground. The thought of another dragon was exciting. Perhaps they could truly bring the race back from the brink of extinction.

As Eragon wearily stepped off of the rock, his voice returning to normal, he heard Saphira say, That worked, Eragon. Hold on, there's something strange in the desert... And with that, his blue dragon went winging off into the cooling barren land.

Too tired to protest Saphira's departure, Eragon headed back toward the tents where the Varden had made its encampment. He saw Murtagh briefly, slowly managing to comprehend his words. The egg... storm... young woman... hatched... returning... He didn't yet understand the message that his brother had brought him.

Galbatorix's army was departing, and quite rapidly. His judgment call had been sound; none of their faith had truly been in the Empire. They were only trying to protect their families.

He found Roran near the mass of tents, tending to the large scar on his left forearm. Eragon didn't dare touch that particular wound, since his exhaustion tapped his strength greatly. Still, he greeted his cousin. "How did you fare?"

Roran grunted, scratching his face. "Well enough." He paused. "Did you see that madwoman with the swords? I thought she was going to take on all of Galbatorix's army singlehandedly." He chuckled wryly. "Wouldn't be a first. D'you remember that time-" Then he shook his head. "Sorry, Eragon, I'm dithering. But you should go see Nasuada soon, I think that she wanted to meet with us and Murtagh and the rest."

As Eragon walked away, he remembered what Roran had started to say.



Eragon's hands didn't shake as he sat on the bed next to Eva. His whole body did. He didn't even notice the girl who lay there, unconscious.

Just then, his mind suddenly registered what Murtagh had told him. "The egg hatched!" he yelled, sitting bolt upright on the bed.

---

Mehkila brushed her red hair back and poked at the dragon playfully. It snapped back in a friendly manner, then began to wail shrilly. She jumped up, not sure how to deal with it.

Deciding that it probably was hungry, she looked desparately around the Healer's tent for some raw steak or anything that might do to avert its appetite. She saw nothing. Rushing out of the tent, she ran smack into a shaggy-haired boy, who happened to be walking by. The boy merely glanced at her, but she fell to the ground, still able to hear the noises outside the tent.

The boy stared her in the eye, then she heard, You need meat for the dragon, don't you? She stared at the boy in fear and watched as he changed into a scruffy-looking cat. What are you staring at me for? Get up, and I'll take you to where you can find some food for it. The cat rolled its eyes, then started walking away. Unsure of herself, Mehkila began to follow.

Before long, she had an entire roast pig ready for the tiny creature that was now attached to her. She quickly returned to the Healer's tent, the cat having vanished, to find that the dragon had demolished one of the posts to the bed. "Stop!" she said, knowing that the Healer wouldn't apprieciate such a gesture. "Look, I have some food for you." The dragon leapt hungrily to her leg, then began gnawing on the roast.

Eva was truly worn out completely. Her mind had completely shut her off, and she wouldn't be able to rise from her unconscious state, unless something happened. She was so deep in her sleep, that the healer that was tending to her was having a difficult time finding a connection to her so they could heal the various cuts and wounds she had suffered through.

A young man had come into the tent, sitting upon the bed she occupied as there was hardly any other place for him to sit down. She stirred slightly, surprising the healer, and then when the man cried out, it was like a jolt through her body. He had such a powerful presence, that it roused her from her sleep and she snapped her eyes open wildly, much to the surprise of the healer who was mixing up a paste to put on the wound from the arrow.

Eva stared around, collapsing against the bed as she had no strength to even lift her finger. All she could do was dart her eyes around, and they quickly settled upon the rider who had ended it all. She just stared at him for a moment as he seemed to be in just as much shock, but for a very different reason, than the healer.

Eva's breaths came out in rather short gasps as the pain was finally catching up with her. Her eyes rolled back into her head as she passed out.

"Foolish girl, she was all ready exhausted." The healer mumbled grumpily, mostly from the drain of having so many wounded. "I'm sorry Shade-slayer, but it is obvious your presence is disturbing her, she shouldn't even have woken up. I must ask you to leave, or we could risk losing her from the sheer magnitude of all that she has gone through." The healer motioned to the tent flap a little annoyed.

Anyone who stood close to Eragon could just feel him. He demanded respect, even though he may not realize it. He had seen a lot of horrors that would make any grown man cringe back in fear, but so did many others. The horrors from Galbatorix would reign down on everyone as a haunting memory. They weren't likely to just disappear any time soon. Even though they were all freed from his rule now, there was a lot of cleaning up to do.

Eva twisted slightly in her sleep, mumbling something as pain shot across her face.

---

Once again the large red beast descended from the sky, only this time he wasn't so visible as night had fallen. Murtagh was already coming out of his sleep and quickly straightening his clothes. He could feel the presence of the baby dragon quite easily, so it wasn't difficult to locate where the dragon was.

Thorn landed on the ground with a resounding thud. The near by people were startled quite a bit by the sudden huge presence in their midst. Murtagh walked forward, the dragon was still in the same tent, and nodded at a few of the weary guards.

As Murtagh entered the tent, his eyes instantly spotted the baby dragon as he was close to the woman. She was younger than him, but obviously a fighter. He just stood there for a moment, glad nothing had happened while they were resolving the battle in the Hadarac Desert. He looked at the small green baby carefully and remembered when Thorn had hatched.

"What's your name?" he asked the woman.

Eragon, having been jolted out of his dead stupor by the possibility of a new Dragon Rider, stood politely, saying, "I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting that." Walking catlike out of the tent, he suddenly remembered that Saphira had disappeared.

Finding the nearest horse, he asked its rider (nearby) if he could borrow it, touching the blood bay mare's mind to calm its fiery spirit. After receiving permission, he galloped deeper into the desert, shouting at Saphira in his mind.

For quite a bit of time, the weary man guided his steed at a hard gallop through the desert, tapping into his own strength and the energy stored in the gems on Brisingr's hilt to provide the owerful beast with the strength it needed. With the night having fallen, the desert was quiet and dark. Once, the horse tripped over a tall sand dune and he rolled to the ground, recovering to his feet. The ground was soft and cool against his dirty flesh.

In the distance, he could finally see a blue shape - along with a pale white figure. The two rose and fell, as if in combat. Saphira! What's going on?

The dragon roared in his mind as he fed the horse a final spurt of energy and told it to go back the way it came. He would ride Saphira back to the camp or die here. This wild dragon called me here for a death battle! Her voice was strained, and she obviously was exhausted by the combat with the massive white dragon, which appeared to also be a female, though a much older one. Eragon, look in the nest - there are eggs.

He gasped as he realized what the strange stone structure behind the two dragons, framed by the starry sky, was. That's a dragon's nest?

Saphira's response was strained. Yes. This dragon claims to be protecting the eggs.

Something clicked in Eragon. So she doesn't want us taking them and hatching them. I see. Why not?

She fears losing the only children left. She can no longer produce young ones, so these are the only remaining members of her species. She doesn't want humans like Galbatorix harming them. Suddenly, the dragon saw Eragon. Swooping down, it came to a crashing yet somehow graceful halt on the ground before the Rider. It glared deep into his eyes, and for a second he was afraid that it would be the last thing that he would ever see.

That is, until he could feel a great pressure upon his mind. Saphira, I think she's trying to speak to me... His dragon landed behind him, an obvious defensive gesture. But she said nothing, which he took as a go-ahead to let her.

Within seconds of her invasion, he understood. She's testing me. She's trying to understand if I'm a trustworthy person. He showed her everything that she wished to see: Saphira's egg hatching, talking with her, flying, battling, travelling, learning from the elves...

Soon, she stood back, a strange grimance on her ancient face. Clearly a sign that he had passed her test. He began to see images from the past, an indication of communication. He understood that he was learning of her history. How most of her kin had been taken for the Riders. At the time, she had supported them - until Galbatorix and the Forsworn had killed them all. That was when she began to hoard the dragon eggs. And now, there were just three.

A final message was conveyed to him. I will give you a single one.

Honored that this strange wild dragon would give him her trust, Eragon carefully climbed the side of the nest without using magic. The three eggs there wer crystalline in their beauty. A magenta one glinted in the moonlight, dyed a dark blood color. A lime green one glowed practically, touched with shades of darker greens and even turquoise. The last one, icy blue, contained darker threads of color, looking almost like ice. They're all male, Saphira informed him. Pity, then they could have a better chance of reviving the dragon race.

Still, it was an offer he couldn't refuse. Obviously, this wild dragon understood that he intended to help her species, not use them. She was offering one of her sons as a possible father for her race.

He palmed all three eggs lightly, trying to touch the minds of the dragons within. To his frustration, he was unable. The egg shells were like magical shields as well, offering protection for their inhabitants.

On intuition, he tapped them with his fingernail. Two of them made a dull thud, deadened by the nest's solid material. But the third rang out, clear and loud.

He lifted the icy-blue egg to carry it under his shoulder. "Thank you," he said gratefully to the dragon. Jumping to Saphira's back, he prepared to return to the incampment. While the ride there had taken nearly an hour, he would be able to return within ten minutes.

---

The dragon had barely finished the roast when Murtagh arrived again. In the meantime, however, she had discovered a mysterious itching on the palm of her right hand. After scratching desparately to rid herself of the silvery skin that she had developed there, she let it be. After all, it had stopped to annoy her.

She could feel his presence against her mind. There was no doubt that the Rider had a very powerful presence, but Murtagh more so than Eragon. His figure was one that demanded attention, filled with anger and stress.

His eyes were on the young dragon that sat on the bed next to her when he entered the tent. Even tired, his body still moved powerfully. He seemed to be remembering something. "What's your name?" he finally asked, not unkindly, but curious. After all, there would be no one else (excluding Eragon) to help her learn the necessary skills to be a Rider.

Her face remained stoic and solid; only her eyes and lips moved as she replied, "I'm Mehkila. Of course, everyone knows who you are." Her eyes were searching, as she tried to understand his emotions.

She still wore the same clothing that she had been wearing during the battle; her black leather vest covered the coarse brown fabric that formed both a tunic and breeches. A black belt held the long, narrow sword that she had fought with. Only a thin layer of chain mail separated the two materials.

There was silence for a minute, then she looked back at the dragon. "What now?" she asked. She had never been one to mince words.

Murtagh gritted his teeth as Galbatorix stood over him. He could feel the pain pouring into his body, but he wouldn't say a word. Eragon had fought for him, and given him the chance with the Varden he needed to stop running from everyone. Just because he was the son of Morzan didn't make him evil. He was his own person, and the first person to understand that was Eragon. He was grateful to the dragon rider, but he hardly had time to think of that as the pain consumed his body.

Galbatorix was prodding his unusually powerful mind. Even though it was hard to crack the surface, once he did, he could see everything in the boy's mind.

"Sir?" a nervous looking soldier shuffled into the room.

"Yes?" Galbatorix seemed irritated by the interruption.

"We brought the eggs." He quickly stepped out as two more soldiers escorted the eggs into the room.

Galbatorix grinned in a satisfied way. "Ah, good. Now Murtagh, I'm confident one of these eggs will hatch for you, and once it does, you are to learn under me and help bring about the new age." Galbatorix sneered as Murtagh lay helpless on the ground.

Murtagh had no idea why Galbatorix had entered his mind and shuffled through every thought and memory he had. All of that was because Galbatorix had found his true name and now it was safe to see if an egg would hatch.

Murtagh's eyes were trained on the two eggs as they were brought close to him. A faint hum filled the air as Murtagh watched in dread. The blood red egg shivered slightly before it began to glow. A defeaning crack filled the air as a large crevice split down the middle. The hum grew louder until shell fragments flew everywhere and a baby dragon fell out, blinking large big eyes as it was seeing the world for the first time.

The little creature hobbled unsure on his feet for a moment before noticing Murtagh. The little creature chirped and seemed very happy to see him....

The memory faded in Murtagh's mind as the woman spoke. "Yes, I suppose they all do know who I am." He frowned a the thought as he knew that he was known because of his horrible deeds.

"Right now, Mehkila, I need you to get to Eragon. Right now you'll need the guidance of us both, as well as protection for the baby dragon. I'm not quite sure how this goes, since I was forced through most of my training, so we need to speak to Eragon. If you are feeling all right, we can fly to the Hadarac Desert as soon as possible." He said.

Eragon's arrival back at the Varden camp was uneventful; considering the events of the night, the comings and goings of the two Dragon Riders was a rather common occurance. Saphira skidded to a halt before hitting a couple of tents, leaving four claw marks in the ground.

The dragon egg under his arm was cool to the touch and very still. He could only be grateful to the wild dragon for her generous gift to the cause.

As he dismounted Saphira, one of the guards approached the Rider. "Greetings, Silver Hand," he said in the graceful voice of a fair being, in the ancient language. Lifting his hood, he revealed long blonde hair. An elf. "How did your journey into the desert fare?" His eyes caught the egg, shining with delight. "Ah, I can see..." As if in a trance, he walked up and touched it lightly with long fingers. Then backed away, looking just a bit disappointed.

As the elf walked away, more people walked by, staring and touching the egg. Saphira said, irritated, It's as though they want all of the responsibility that you have to deal with every day. Eragon placed a palm on his throbbing head. This was all too much. In one night, Galbatorix was gone, the third egg hatched, and another one discovered?

It was as though all of his dreams were suddenly falling from the sky and being handed to him on a guilded platter.

He stowed the egg away beneath his cloak, although its position on the side of his slender body was awkward and mysterious-looking. At least no one came up to him and touched it. He intended to protect this baby dragon as if it were his own child.

---

Mehkila watched Murtagh's face grow dark with the memories. She couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking, but she hardly had time to think about that.

She stood steadily at Murtagh's words. A bit indignant that he would ever think that she was not feeling all right, she lifted the dragon to her shoulder as any other woman her age might hold an infant. Its squeaks were now loud in her ear, but somehow the redhead didn't mind that.

"I'm prepared to leave whenever. These are my only posessions." She placed her sword, which she had set off to one side while the Healer had fixed her leg, back in its sheath on her hip. Then, striding out into the night, she looked around at the sky above the line of tents. The sky was a strange orange glow from the smoke that filled it. Most of the men were lighting fires and preparing to eat a decent meal. She would not have that luxury.

Then she turned to look at Thorn. The great dragon looked at her with the narrowed fiery eyes. Any other woman would have jumped, but Mehkila did not scare easily. Besides, she was holding a child of Thorn's kin. "Greetings, dragon," she said in as polite a voice as she could muster, then turned to Murtagh. "I've never ridden a dragon before. What exactly do you intend for me to do?"

Murtagh could sense that this Mehkila was a fighter, and probably didn't like it when people made the wrong assumption about her. It made him laugh a little at the thought. He remembered being fiery like her, but she would soon be exposed to the hardships and horrors of being a dragon rider, and it would not be easy. He hoped that she could handle it, but as he thought about it, he knew that she would have no trouble keeping up with the vigors of the hard life.

"Good." Was all Murtagh said as he followed her out of the tent.

Thorn was waiting, shifting his weight nervously, as Mehkila exited the tent with the baby dragon. He brought his large head from it's height down to eye level with Mehkila as he narrowed his eyes and stared at the red haired woman and looked at the baby dragon. Had he ever been that small? The thought was boggling his mind a little.

Greetings small one. Thorn rumbled in response.

His chest rumbled, in what Murtagh knew as his laugh. Mehkila certainly had fire about her, and it was obvious she was an impatient soul, much like Murtagh.

"Just hold the baby, I'll make sure you don't fall." Murtagh said a he took Mehkila's arm and guided her carefully over to Thorn's side. He helped to hoist her up the large side of Thorn's body before he climbed in the saddle behind her and wrapped his arms around her to help her keep her balance so she wouldn't fall to her death.

First flight is always strange, hold on tightly small one. Thorn spoke to Mehkila before pounding against the ground and launching into the air where he quickly flew away. The bystanders were in awe as the red dragon disappeared with the new rider.

---

The moment Eragon had brought the egg back from the desert, Eva shifted uncomfortably in her fitful state. Her body was too tired to move or wake up, but her mind was restless as the small presence was pressing against her soul. She felt the need to break free from the suffocating blanket of her unconscious mind, but she had no control.

Eva was spent, her body twitched slightly as she was restless. The healer's quickly began to burn calming incents in hopes of getting her to just calm her mind, but they were finding that difficult as they were still trying to tend her wounds.

Baby...egg...Hada...egg...needs... Eva's thoughts were jumbled, especially as she felt a little itch in the back of her mind. There was one thing present above all else....a name. It kept flashing in her subconscious mind and her instincts wanted to kick in and find the source that was pulling her so fitfully about.

Interesting, Mehkila thought as she balanced the newborn while Murtagh helped to situate her on the saddle. He takes care to treat me like a lady. The Rider did, after all, help her climb Thorn's broad side and seat her, taking care only to touch her delicately.

The touch of his skin was oddly itchy, like something she had to prod. While not exactly a new sensation, to have a man's arms around her, it certainly wasn't something that she had felt in quite some time. Not since she'd joined the Varden, at least.

Her sunrise-red hair clashed with the bloodred beast below her as they soared through the darkened sky, crossing countryside. Though she kept such thoughts to herself, she found herself completely amazed by the sensation of flying. The smokey, after-battle smell that still clung to the clothes of all three beings seemed to suit the situation quite well.

---

Eragon immediately headed toward the leader's tent, where he knew that Nasuada and the others would probably be waiting for him, but something held him back. He was waiting for Murtagh and the new Rider, but they would land soon and probably look for him in the same place as his intended destination.

No, something was drawing him away. Something with a magical influence. The EGG, maybe? he wondered. He tried to set it on the ground and then leave. Once he did so, he walked away uninhibited. But when carrying the egg, he moved in directions he had not originally intended.

He decided to wander where it led him. By the time that Murtagh and the new Rider arrived at the Hadarac camp, many of the nightly fires had been quenched, their owners having cooked food then moved away. Eragon was standing with the egg just a few steps from the Healer's tent. He wasn't sure why.

As Thorn landed, the Rider gave him necessary clearance, then approached his flank. "Murtagh, this is your Rider?" His voice was polite, not scornful as the words appeared to sound. "Here, we must talk." He waited for the two to get off of Thorn.

NOO! I double posted. Oops.

Murtagh kept a firm arm around Mehkila the whole ride. He knew how easy it was to fall from a dragon if you weren't used to flying. He could feel the excitement from Mehkila, and the amazement of the ride. He didn't blame her. The first time he had been in the sky with Thorn, well it was just amazing. He was a little frightened he'd fall from such a height, but even if he had Thorn would've caught him.

Thorn landed as carefully as he could for once, he didn't want to disturb anyone who was sleeping as it was starting to get rather late. He allowed Eragon to approach him without a fuss and turned his head to watched as Murtagh helped Mehkila and the baby down gently. He sniffed the air before his chest rumbled.

Another egg? he asked in complete shock as he saw a small bundle in Eragon's arms.

Murtagh heard Thorn in his own mind as he asked the question and looked at Eragon in unbelief. He walked over to his brother.

"Yes, I suppose we do have a lot to talk about. Why are we here? Did you already speak with Nasuada?" he asked as Mehkila stood a little off to the side. "Eragon, I want you to meet our new rider, Mehkila." He introduced the girl.

---

Eva had grown more restless as the egg came closer. She fidgeted in her sleep, her mind determined to have no rest until whatever it was, was safe with her. She felt a strange sort of protection for this little presence that was pressing against her. She felt motherly towards it since she could sense it was just a baby, and she felt a very strong need to scoop up the little creature and protect it from the world.

The instincts were starting to override her exhausted body, and soon her eyes fluttered open and she looked around exhaustedly. She couldn't move or get up as her body was stubborn on refusing her that much as she needed rest, but her mind was awake, if but a bit fuzzy.

The healer came over, once again surprised that Eva was up after her harsh fight.

"Egg..." Eva mumble, her mouth feeling as if a horse was sitting on it.

"What? What egg?" the healer asked.

"Baby...please..." she continued to mumble before the exasperated healer left the tent, only to stand shocked as Thorn, Murtagh, Eragon, a woman, and a baby dragon stood there.

"Shade-slayer, she's awake again. None of us know what to do, do you mind shutting her mind down so she can rest? Something is making her uncomfortable, causing her to be drawn out of her much needed sleep. I don't know why that is, but she mumbled about an egg and a baby and even though she is exhausted as ever, she's determined to stay awake when she obviously needs to just let her body rest." The healer quickly explained exasperated.

Eva was at real danger of killing herself if she didn't let her body recover.

Mehkila, finally standing on firm ground, looked at the brand-new dragon's egg, eyes wide. She had only seen an egg twice, after all, the result of the first one squirming in her arms. She had known who Eragon was, of course, since she had joined the Varden, but only now was she properly introduced to the fearsome fighter.

"Good day, Mehkila." Eragon and Mehkila shook hands calmly, then Eragon returned to conversation with Murtagh.

But just before he could speak again, the Healer from the same tent spoke to him, clearly exhasperated. He looked down at the egg, then up at Saphira, who had just caught up on foot. "Hold on, I can help her rest." Saphira, I'm going to need your help... He felt the dragon's presence against his own magical capabilities. Walking into the tent, he looked down at the girl who seemed to be causing so much trouble even during her resting hours. Her peaceful face made him want to protect her. Something must really have angered her to make her use all of her energy fighting like this.

He placed a gentle hadn upon her forehead, then spoke a few words in the ancient language. Nothing much, just something that would keep her from waking up again until she had fully recovered. "Sleep until you recover." She fell back into her comatose state,in which she would remain for as long as she needed to regain the energy from the fight.

Immediately after that, he felt an even larger energy drain on his resources than he had expected. Obviously, this girl had a lot of recovery to do. Luckily, most of the energy would be from Saphira, who had a plentiful source. She would survive, and he had phrased it in such a way that he could break the magical seal after she had gotten past the critical zone.

Walking back out of the tent, he spoke quietly to Murtagh and the new Rider, who seemed especially curious about the whole thing. He said in a low voice, "As to your questions... no, I have not spoken with Nasuada. I was on my way to address her when this egg here confused my thoughts and pointed me in a different direction. I decided to follow it. You arrived just as I was about to enter this Healer's tent. At the same time, there's the fact that the girl in there was muttering about an egg and a baby in her sleep? I think that she's the next Rider. Although that would be utterly astounding, to have two eggs hatch within the same timeframe after inactivity for so long."

Murtagh watched as Eragon quickly entered the healer's tent. He looked to Mehkila and then at the little dragon. It seemed like today was a day full of luck. They had defeated Galbatorix, rescued the Varden from doom, found a new dragon rider, found a new egg, and they were all pretty healthy considering the fighting they had gone through.

The restlessness from the tent ceased almost instantly and Murtagh knew that whatever it was that was bothering the warrior was now calmed. He wondered why the woman would be fighting hard against the obvious rest she would need.

He looked to Mehkila again. He could tell that the woman was a fighter. If she fought as hard as her hair was red, then she would be difficult to beat unless you were very experienced or much stronger than her. Murtagh realized that she was probably the best pick for the new rider, as she would easily keep up with the vigors of the life.

Murtagh looked at Eragon as he came out of the tent. He nodded his head. "I suppose it would be best to present Mehkila and the baby to her, do you suppose word of the new egg has reached her?" he asked lightly.

He listened carefully, before he was astounded as Eragon explained the magic draw in the egg. "You don't think that it was that easy?" he was in disbelief. It would be very incredible if they had two riders within the same day.

"You say the egg was drawing you here, perhaps we should see what happens to the egg when you take it into the tent, even close to the girl. It's worth a shot while we're hear and then we can go speak with Nasuada." Murtagh suggested as he looked at the icy blue shell.

Another rider? Won't that be something. At least Sapphira will have more of a choice in mates. Thorn said in slight contempt. He was more than willing to mate with Sapphira, but she was stubbron against it.

(Did you get my PM a few days ago?)

Eragon shrugged, not knowing what to think. Luck, the hand of a god, magic, it all resulted in the same thing. "Either way, she'll be sleeping for the next few days, so I guess we'll test that out when she wakes up." He thought for a second about the leaders' tent, remembering his commitment to Nasuada. "I suppose that we'd better go meet Nasuada."

As the small group walked toward the location where Nasuada had said that she would be waiting at battle's end, should it have ended well, Saphira followed her Rider like an enormous shadow. Ignoring Thorn as she had since the two had been introduced on 'friendly' terms, she said to Eragon, You swore fealty to Nasuada and the Varden at the beginning of your time with them. Do you think that it holds over after today, now that Galbatorix is gone?

Eragon replied, Yes, it holds true, but my statements were not in the ancient language. If I must, I can deny her power over me, and she knows that I am a force to be reckoned with. He hoped that he spoke the truth.

Nasuada was sitting by a small table eating when the three Riders and the dragons arrived. She wore a blue silk robe, embroidered with intricate silver thread. Her ebony skin matched her almond eyes. She spoke with slight alarm. "Eragon, I see you have Murtagh, but is that... is this..."

Eragon's face remained expressionless as he said, "Yes, it is. Nasuada, Galbatorix is dead, and the third egg has hatched at the hands of this woman."

Nasuada's eyes turned like lamps upon the newest Rider, who returned her curious gaze with her own. "A member of the Varden, I see, but what is her name?"

The Rider's voice was steady as she introduced herself, clever face and snakelike neck statuesque in their stillness. "I call myself Mehkila." They shook hands, and then Mehkila turned back to Eragon and Murtagh. "I'm assuming that you have information to discuss. I'll wait outside and find myself some food." She exited the tent, her catlike walk hauntingly familiar.

Eragon turned back to Nasuada. "In addition, Saphira and myself were able to recover a fourth dragon's egg from a wild dragon in the desert. I have an idea of who will allow it to hatch."

The conversation continued as such, containing the formalities of such a position, until Roran arrived with Jormunder. "'Night all," he said, lifting his eyebrows in greeting to his cousins. "What now?" His question, of course, was the question of the hour.

((You sent me a PM? I don't recall getting one, try sending it again. Sometimes the site is funny, ah well, what can you do?))

Murtagh merely gave a curt nod to show his acknowledgement of Eragon's words. He was thrown out of proportion to think that they not only hatched the egg, after so long, but now there might be a new rider. He looked at Mehkila for a moment. She was certainly lucky, at least she was if she liked attention. Dragon Riders were like gods to the people, it was difficult for them to understand that Murtagh and Eragon were still just people like them.

As the small group came to the large tent, almost in the center of the encampment, he stood in a dark corner with his arms folded, keeping his mental link with Thorn wide open so he knew exactly what was going on through Murtagh's eyes.

He watched as Mehkila was introduced to Nasuada, who was dressed just as stunningly as ever. He wasn't one for large groups like this, at least when it involved politics. He had been Galbatorix's right hand man long enough to know he never wanted to deal with a politician again. They were the worst sort of person, no matter how good their intentions and heart were.

Roran arrived in the tent, along with Jormunder. Murtagh gave a small nod at Roran greeted both him and Eragon. Even though he knew he was related to the grizzled man, he didn't feel the familial connection with him. It still baffled him that he still had family alive and well.

"Right now good cousin, we are supposed to organize some sort of government that will benefit everyone. We need a strong leader who knows the needs and wants of the people and will meet them. I suppose getting rid of Galbatorix was the easy part." He scoffed slightly, a small joke on his part. "Neither Eragon or I wants the position, but we need someone who is just and won't take advantage of the people." He moved out of his quiet corner to stand further in the room.

(Well, you would have recalled getting this particular PM. I sent it again. Sorry about hitting you with that wall of text...)

Eragon's eyes narrowed, flickering from Nasuada to Murtagh to Roran and back again. As the first of the new Riders, he had as much if not more authority than the rest of those present. But how did he intend to use that?

He kept his mind busy, sifting through the faces of those he had met throughout his travels of Alagaesia. Those who were among the living, at least. Jeod, Angela, Nasuada, Elva, and Jormunder all came to mind as he thought about the possible leader destined to replace Galbatorix. But none of them quite seemed suited for the spot.

But, then, who?

"Someone who is just..." he mused. "Someone who will meet the needs of the people. Who won't take advantage of them. Someone who doesn't even want the job. But who..." He looked around, mentally linking to Saphira to determine her thoughts.

All was silent for numerous moments as Eragon's eyes shifted between the people in the tent. Murtagh, dark and silent as always. Jormunder, standing there like a stoic, but his eyes shone like gemstones. Roran, looking bored. He obviously had no idea who would be a good choice for such a key spot. Nasuada, visibly eager.

And just like that, he knew who he would choose.

"Roran." His one-worded solution shocked everyone who heard it. Jormunder's eyes narrowed, but not unkindly. Nasuada hid feelings of hurt and quickly smiled.

But Roran would have nothing to do with it. "Me, the king of Alagaesia? You must be barking!" his cousin scoffed, obviously thinking that the idea was ludicrous.

---

The instant that Mehkila had left the leader's tent, she sighed with relief. She greatly admired both of the Riders, but she needed food.

Now.

She headed toward the grub tent with positive intentions. To find food and shove it down her throat. Of course, the grub tent was filled with starved and parched men, some of whom, she was amused to see, wore the Empire's uniform, having defected to assist the Varden once they had realized that Galbatorix was dead.

The men all looked up automatically when she entered, then turned back to their food. She smiled; they saw very few women on the battlefield, after all. But, fortunately for her, she had managed to pick up a woman's cloak on the way to the tent. Now, she was able to disguise the baby dragon as a human infant.

Lucky her. She had a spiny green baby.