Eragon - A new tale

Chapter 1

Eragon could feel something nudging against him. The nudging stopped, but a few moments later a hot blast of air hit his foot. He shot upright, his hand flying to the dagger he all ways kept underneath his pillow. "It is only me", the blue dragon said calmly. He lay back against his pillows, his heartbeat slowing. "Why did you wake me like that?"
"Because there was no other way. "
Eragon grumbled and swung his legs off the side of his bed. Saphira's cryptic responses irritated him sometimes. She vanished from the gigantic hole in his wall. He washed his face and hair, then descended down for breakfast. The 'house' Eragon and Saphira had built was enormous, mainly due to Saphira's ever increasing size. It was several storeys high and set on the side of a mountain, accessible only by dragon. This was fairly unnecessary; whilst planning the build with Saphira, Eragon had mused that anyone who might want to cause them any trouble would definitely need a dragon. That had made her laugh. "Let them try." Nevertheless, Eragon thought, better safe than sorry. A big lake sat at the foot of the mountain, for Saphira's benefit.

Eragon made himself breakfast, and tossed a sheep-sized piece of meat to Saphira. Whilst constructing their home, Eragon had ensured that Saphira would be able to fit - her head, at least - inside every room. She caught the meat in her jaws and wolfed down the whole lot in one mouthful.
"Thank you, Little one. I am very hungry this morning."
"You're always hungry, Saphira." She turned to face him and blasted hot air in his face. Eragon's still-wet hair dried very quickly and made it all stand upright. He glared at her, and Saphira made the low, coughing-growl sound which Eragon knew to be laughter. He finished his food and went through his morning routine. He sprinted up to the summit of the mountain with Saphira flying overhead. They sat and enjoyed the view for a few minutes, Eragon leaning against Saphira's belly. It was icy cold up here and would have been life-threatening for any human. Neither of them minded though - following Eragon's transformation at the blood-oath celebration in Ellesmera, he could comfortably tolerate temperatures much lower than those here. Besides, Saphira's belly was as warm as any fire.
Eragon liked to use this time to think about those he had been forced to leave behind in Alagaësia. It was about a year since he had defeated Galbatorix and restored peace in the world. A year since he had last seen Roran, Katrina and their baby Ismira. A year since he had last seen Nasuada, leader of the Varden and Orik, king of the dwarves. A year since he had last seen her.

Saphira flew Eragon all the way down the mountain to the lake. She dived straight in with Eragon still on her back. He released himself from her harness and swam up and down the lake's shoreline a few times whilst Saphira darted around under the water, catching fish. They spent several hours splashing around before they flew back up the mountain.

They took a detour on their way home, to visit Blödgharm and the other elves. As well as building a home for himself, they had begun constructing buildings which could be used for rider training - when the time came. The mountainside had various convenient plateaus, on which these buildings had been constructed. There was also a large forest occupying one of the plateaus and a large portion of the mountainside. Upon their arrival, the elves had immediately built themselves homes within the trees, very similar to those in Du Weldenvarden. The most important and most secure building was that which housed the dragon eggs and Eldunarí. This was guarded by elves around the clock, whilst also having several security spells cast on it. Eragon was all too aware of the risks involved with having so many precious objects in their charge. If someone were to break in and steal any number of eggs or Eldunarí... it didn't bare thinking about. Eragon was satisfied, however, that the measures they'd put in place were satisfactory.

The main role for Blödgharm and his spellcasters - before they had any dragon riders to train, that is - was to continue healing the minds of the Eldunarí driven mad by Galbatorix. But Blödgharm had reassured Eragon that he was confident in being able to heal all of the Eldunarí they had recovered.
The elves also cared for the two hundred and twenty four dragon eggs which they had brought with them. They had recovered two more from The Vault of Souls, but these had been left with the Elves, Dwarves and Urgals. The hope was that eventually, the eggs will choose riders.
Eragon enjoyed taking the time to stroll through the corridors and rooms lined with little alcoves, each one containing a dragon egg or Elundarí. He exchanged words with the dragon souls as he passed. Many of them had hundreds of years worth of knowledge, from being alive as a dragon and subsequently hiding in the Vault of Souls with the other Eldunarí, hidden by Oromis.

It surprised Eragon that Blödgharm, nor any of the other elves, ever seemed to get bored - at least, they never showed it if they did. They appeared to be perfectly happy as egg and Eldunarí caretakers, and continuing to build what would eventually be a haven for training dragons and riders.
After their visit, Eragon and Saphira headed back to their home. Saphira (unsurprisingly hungry again) disappeared off for some time to do some hunting. The mountain side and surrounding area was teeming with wildlife - plenty of which was perfectly edible for Saphira. She returned after about half an hour with three large deer in her jaws and talons, although she'd already eaten several more. The elves had no need for meat - they foraged their food and lived on a diet consisting mostly of berries. Eragon did the same, but still allowed himself the occasional indulgence. He couldn't kill it himself though, not since learning the ancient language. Half of one of Saphira's deer would be enough to feed him for weeks.

Whilst Saphira hunted, Eragon worked in his study. He wrote letters to some friends in Alagaësia, and drew up more plans for further expansion of the training areas. He wanted to have areas both indoors and outdoors that could be used for rider coaching. He thought back to his training sessions with Oromis. He had learnt not only how to spar and to use the ancient language properly - Oromis had taught him history, art and politics too. Eragon's father, Brom, was also instrumental in Eragon's rider training. He taught Eragon how to read and write, and was the first to teach him the ancient language. He remembered sitting by a fire with Brom, after using Brisingr to set arrows on fire and nearly killing himself from exhaustion in the process.
"What I want you to do is lift the rock off your palm and hold it in the air for as long as you can. The words you're going to use are stenr reisa. Say them."
Eragon smiled to himself and picked up the very same pebble from his desk. "Stenr reisa" he said, softly. The pebble rose from his hand and hovered perfectly still, the gedwëy ignasia on Eragon's palm glowing. He watched it contentedly for a few seconds and then let the magic fade. The pebble dropped back into his palm with a soft plop. Still holding the rock, Eragon leant back in his chair and was suddenly overcome with emotion. He found it impossible to reminisce about the past without remembering the single person he missed the most. He felt his heart ache in his chest. Then, Saphira's consciousness brushed against his and he immediately felt soothed. She didn't need to say anything, but he knew she was there. He closed his eyes.

* * *

Eragon awoke with a start. He was slumped in his chair and his neck ached from the position he'd been asleep in. He looked out of the window. When he had fallen asleep the sun had been approaching its highest point in the sky - now, it was on the way down again. He suddenly realised what had woken him. A huge roar had come from outside. There it was again. Saphira. Even as he reached for his brightsteel sword, Brisingr, he flung his mind out for her. But when they connected he did not feel fear or anger, or anything that would indicate danger. Instead he felt... jubilation? "Eragon! Open the front door, now!" He practically threw himself down the stairs to find out what was going on. He paused as he reached the front door. Could it be? He flung open the door. He stared, in awe. In the sky, behind the figure in front of him, Eragon watched as Saphira spiraled around in excitement. Another dragon spiraled around her - they were almost entwined in the air. Eragon could not quite believe what he was seeing. Was this some kind of dream? Another dragon. This one was smaller than Saphira, his scales the colours of forest leaves with the sun shining through them and the finest emeralds... Fírnen. Eragon's eyes widened as he stared at the woman standing on his doorstep. She had a petite form, with long raven-black hair which fell down around an angular face and past her shoulders. Slanted green eyes stared back at him from underneath slanted eyebrows. Eragon had never seen anyone more beautiful, and could not mistake her for anyone else. He had dreamt about her every night since he had left Alagaësia.
Arya.