For Alagaesia: 65. Eternally etched in

The sun rose and set, each day, without fail, as if it were its duty to do so even when sick. The winter advanced, forcing the sun to be more and more sick each passing day, but the sun was relentless. It rose even if its heat was not as potent as it would like to be. It gave light, even if for a decreased amount of time.

Ellesmera and the surrounding Du Weldenvarden, caught in a time warp and seemingly eternal had its effect on Eragon and Saphira. After spending six weeks in the leafy city, they cared not about the passage of time. The sun rose and set day after day, but it always felt like their first day in the city.

For Alagaesia: 64. Consequences of being closed

“Never lose sleep over your husband, Katrina. He has a knack to defy difficulties.”, Eragon said. Katrina had contacted him and explained about Galbatorix's counter attack. Eragon was embarrassed to have heard of the Varden's struggle and victory from Katrina. It was his duty to scry and learn about the happenings of the Varden on a day-to-day basis, since the Varden were in no position to contact him when need arose. But he had spend his time training Indra, making fairths and practising with Arya and had forgotten to keep an eye on the Varden for the past four-five days.

Katrina nodded as if to say 'I know' and said, “But Galbatorix grows desperate.”

It was a very true observation. It was, indeed, desperate of Galbatorix to send armies from three directions to recapture Teirm. And Eragon knew quite well that victory wouldn't have been this easy if the Varden were ignorant of the marching armies. Somehow they had been notified and they had won the battle.

For Alagaesia: 63. The informer's victory

Victory. Humph, Victory. It must be the only word glorified beyond all its merits. When people spoke of it, they spoke as if they had fed a whole country of men for a year. They stood with their heads held high when they proclaimed victory over the opposing forces.

Roran had had his fair share of such moments where he had felt on top of the world; as if he was the God and the world was a bit of dirt under his feet. But this time, victory wasn’t as sweet for now he had not gone headlong into battle. He had had the chance to look upon a battle scene from above and he had watched how fate could work either way as it chose and kill anyone.

For Alagaesia: 62. Nightmares, Confrontation and Who are they?

He lay sprawled on the top of the mountain. Cold was all around and it was inside him too. It was evil. And it was deep inside where it should not be. It was terror. Terror unlike anything he had felt before. It wrapped around him and it was coursing through him. Darkness was spreading all around.

Somebody was calling out to him.

For Alagaesia: 61. Can he be trusted?

Being the leader of a rebellion was a head ache. Not just because of the lopsided match between the rebels and the empire, but also because of the politics within the rebel alliance and the threat of back-handed assassination attempts by the empire. But Nasuada had managed it well so far. Or at least that was how King Orrin felt. Oddly, he had visited her for no particular reason at all and had spoke with her for an hour about the status of the war and almost all things related to war – which of course included everything in their life. Their life was now war; as indistinguishable from one another as water in milk.

For Alagaesia: 60. Learning. Speaking. Naming.

Dragons were wonderful. The way their mind worked was amazing to say the least. They always seemed to know what exactly had to be done. Young or old – experienced or novice, they were always one step ahead of even the most experienced and rational elf. Yet their aggression was something unheard of in human, elven, dwarven or even Urgal realms. When annoyed they could lose all semblance of fair judgement and follow their instincts blindly. But what served them in such extreme situations was the fact that the instincts of a dragon were almost never incorrect.

For Alagaesia: 59. Peace and Happiness

The puny-dotted-deer was cunning enough to keep running under huge trees. No animal had ever defied her attempt to hunt this long. It wasn't that the deer was smart, it was just that never before had she been hampered by an extremely slow-to-fly companion.

Arya-bonded-little-green-dragon had insisted upon following her to hunt. According to Arya, he was tired of eating Saphira's catch. So much gratitude for helping with fresh meat in his young days. She, Saphira, had been forced to eat stored and old meat when she was little as she didn't have any dragon around to help. The only food she got was stolen meat from uncle-of-Eragon's stocks.

For Alagaesia: 58. The enemy is a friend

The Leona lake had everything that was beautiful – a shore dotted with trees, a mountainous backdrop, clear water and silence. But it still couldn’t provide peace to Nasuada. Even her horse, Battlestorm seemed distracted. He neighed, probably calling her to join him back to the city. The cold was that unbearable.

But she didn’t care. In fact, the cold was so much better than the constant protection that she was being given in the city. In Dras-Leona, she wasn’t living the life of a ruler but that of a prisoner; with a difference, though – the prisoner who doubled up as decision maker.

For Alagaesia: 57. In the city of eternal twilight

Ellesmera's surroundings were as always old yet welcoming. The huge trees of and around the leafy elven capital had always awed Eragon. And they did now too, the third time he was entering the town. The intricately lined trees that formed huge pathways which weren't obvious at first sight and the mansions built on and of the trees were marvels that no elf or rider could build in one lifetime. They were products of thousands of years of persistent efforts of the elves. The city was eternal. Winter or Summer, Autumn or Spring, the city seldom changed.

The trees were always green and their branches bore flowers and fruits at all times. Eragon touched the trunk of a hulk of a tree and shivered at the coolness of its surface. It was mid morning and yet the feel was that of twilight and Eragon knew it would always remain so: the city of eternal twilight, the leafy city – Ellesmera had a lot of names.

For Alagaesia: 56. Introductions and promises

Early in the next morning, Eragon and Saphira were flying alone in the wild. Their rapture knew no bound. With Arya around they couldn’t share how much happy they were, that a new dragon and rider had joined them, with each other. Arya seemed to take her ridership with a pinch of salt and hence allowing their ecstasy to show in full in front of her seemed inappropriate.

However Arya took her ridership, Eragon and Saphira were just happy to have her as co-rider. With anyone else, they wouldn’t have been this much happy. She was a dear friend to both of them and they trusted in her completely. What more could they have asked for? Everything seemed beautiful in the land. And they revelled in the feeling. It was so long since they had felt such bliss. Ever since Brom’s death or even Garrow’s death, they hadn’t felt this way.

For Alagaesia: 55. Childish

Revelry, it seemed was built into dragons. Ever since the sun had risen, the little dragon had not rested. He jumped around at anything he saw. And he always stopped on his tracks whenever his eyes settled on the sun. The sun held a very important part in dragon’s lives, Eragon knew. Saphira had expressed her wish to fly in the Hadarac for hours on end without aim many times over to him and he had promised her that he would accompany her when she embarked on such a trip.

The Du Weldenvarden was a place of abundance, except for sunlight. And Eragon was starting to hate that part of the forest. Earlier it had held a fascination: the concept of eternal twilight was so spiritual and to tell the truth, it still was fascinating. But for one thing: The little green thing could have been tied down if the sun was shining on them all the time, what with his interest in gazing at the sun and all. With the sun’s absence though, he was acting quite strange, running off behind anything that moved, be it leaves or frogs.

For Alagaesia: 54. The monkey mind

Human mind is a fickle thing. It throws up something at you when you least expect it to. Its working is so erratic that at times you start to doubt if it is even you thinking what you think or if some monster has occupied your mind and was thinking for you. It makes you laugh at the most desperate moment and makes you look all gloomy during the happiest of times. Nasuada was grappling with such a state of her mind.

It was late in the night, when she had reached Dras-Leona half-dead. The cold conditions of the slopes of the Spine had rendered her brain useless and she had come into the city mumbling like an idiot. The first thing she did after she was treated, thankfully with magic(it was fast and painless), was what made her feel as she felt.

For Alagaesia: 53. The coastal town

Defeated. Defeated beyond repair. How would he face Eragon again? What would he say to his cousin? Eragon had effectively left the Varden in his protection and he had failed miserably. A fortnight of Eragon’s absence was all it took for the Varden to disintegrate itself. The best warriors of the Varden were fighting a lost battle atop the monstrous wall of Teirm and their leader was taken captive by the monstrous dragon and its rider.

Lost. He had lost the war. He, Roran, was responsible for the Varden's demise. He had failed. And it hurt. Badly. Roran, who had known no defeat in his short life as a warrior, stared at defeat for the first time and it was bitter.

For Alagaesia: 52. Making amends

She was in a forest of ice. There were trees of ice all around her and there was a floor of ice on which she was lying. But it wasn’t cold as she had expected it be. Rather, the warmth she felt was so comforting that she wanted to close her eyes again and go to sleep. Except certain questions needed to be answered and foremost of them: where was she?

She thought hard. And then it struck her in an instant. She was taken… captured… kidnapped. But this place hardly looked like a prison. It was literally a forest.

Nasuada whipped her head so that she could see her captor. All she could remember was a ruby red surface, when she thought of her captors. And now again she was met with a red wall. But this time she could see that it wasn’t just a wall of red; it was the belly of a ruby red dragon. Thorn. Repulsed, Nasuada tried to move away from the dragon.

For Alagaesia: 51. Green Ecstasy

His eyes flew open. He didn't know how he went into a complete slumber – a rare thing to happen to elves and him. But he had and now something had disturbed him. Groggily, he turned his neck around. He could sense Saphira waking too.

When Eragon rested his eyes on the spot where Arya had slept, he only found an empty blanket.

'Where is she?', he wondered.

He heard a squeak that was oddly familiar and remembered that it was such a squeak that had woken him up in the first place. He turned towards the direction from which the sound originated and found a scene that would stay fresh in his mind for eternity. Arya was staring wide-eyed at the green dragon egg that glowered in the red rays of the sun. The sun's rays falling over her body illuminated her in a golden glow. And the dragon egg was shaking. Shaking violently.

For Alagaesia: 50. Defeated

The enthralling roar was in the air. For every step they took, it increased in intensity calling him to it. Roran had developed a liking to the sea when he had seen it for the first time in Teirm an year and a half ago while escaping from the empire. The sea had signified his freedom. It of course was a sign of freedom – an example of how Alagaesia should have been. A little excited on the outside like the waves that constantly washed over to the shores, but calm and serene on the inside – like the endless water filling the space between the ocean floor and the air; hiding the vicious water currents running deep in the ocean.

Galbatorix had taken away all that from Alagaesia. The land was a mess. The ocean was much better. Hence Roran liked it.

The city of Teirm stood like a silent watch tower standing guard on the shore. Roran was excited with the thoughts of liberating the great coastal city from the grip of Galbatorix and transforming it into truly a watch tower for all of Alagaesia – a watch tower that constantly keeps vigil against foreign forces attacking from the seas.

For Alagaesia: 49. The hope is taken

The last few days had taken her to the brink of uselessness. Having a routine life was almost unbearable – it was on par with a battle day. Nasuada had no idea when she became such a workaholic, but she was. She hated being in the room for most of the day and hear to reports from sentries and spies. She would have been fine if the reports had any substance in them, but they hardly did. It was all a repetition of the same news: nothing is odd.

In one way, she was happy for the temporary respite from the war and its gloom. The people seemed really happy these days despite the biting cold of the winter. When they were satisfied, she too was. But personally, her mind was restless. Ever since she had literally forced Roran to take up the mission to Teirm, she had been nervous, thinking her plan might backfire and the Varden might face a crushing defeat in that battle.

For Alagaesia: 48. Best friends

Gloomy. As he went into his waking-dreams, if there was a word to describe that day at Silthrim, Eragon would choose only that. Everything seemed to have gone against him on that day. The experience at Katrina's home was the high-point of misery what with Galbatorix's attack on Roran and his tongue-slip about Arya. But the other low-point in the day was the evening event of the 'presenting ceremony'. Eragon was now accustomed to the egg rejecting every potential candidate and it was no different on that evening. But even then it hurt him for he had hoped the egg may hatch for someone in Silthrim as the egg had left its mad search for 'the one' – atleast according to Glaedr.

When presented to the three children of Silthrim, the egg had remained as unmoved as it did when it was presented to every other person. The other potential voluntaries – that is the elders who chose to touch the egg were no where near luckier than the others.

For Alagaesia: 47. Despair and Hope

Hunkering on the ground, eyes intently fixed on the water before him, Eragon said in a deathly quiet tone, “Roran. Wake up.” He refused to allow the tears to fall from his eyes. He wouldn’t cry. His cousin wasn’t dead. ‘No! Roran can’t die.’

He noticed not the comforting touch of Arya’s fingers or the calming presence of Saphira’s mind in his. The only thing his eyes saw and ears heard was Roran and his motionless body. His pained mind couldn’t comprehend what had happened moments ago: Roran walking towards Galbatorix as if possessed; Galbatorix attacking him and the much more powerful counter-attack seemingly orchestrated by Roran and Galbatorix’s disappearance from there. And he didn’t try to. The only thing that mattered was Roran. And his life.

“Madhura!!”, Arya called as the elf came into the circle of vision. “Drottningu..”, the elf replied and bent down to examine Roran. Eragon turned away not wanting to hear anything that the elf had to say. He couldn’t and wouldn’t believe that his cousin was dead.

For Alagaesia: 46. The Mysterious mountains

White was the only colour his eyes registered. Wherever he turned, he could see nothing but white. Trees looked like white pillars and legs sunk foots into the ground. To make matters worse, a blizzard blew from the west making it impossible to move towards their destination. The biting cold had already consumed atleast a dozen battle-hardened warriors.

Roran wondered if he had made the wrong decision in accepting to carry out Nasuada’s crazy plan. He wouldn’t have worried so much if it was just him who was going into death, but the soldiers who accompanied him: elves, dwarves, urgals and humans had come on his call. It was his responsibility to take them safely to the other side of the mysterious and dangerous mountain range that was Spine. They had believed him blindly and had offered their help in his scheme to take down Teirm.

“Hey lady, Madhura, could you stop this storm?”, Roran screamed above the howling snow-laden winds to the elf woman who was leading the elven team under him.

“That is impossible, Stronghammer. These winds are nature’s strongest forces. Not even riders can stop such storms.”

For Alagaesia: 44. Travel and travail as respite

Osilon was a much quieter and smaller city than Ellesmera. Being the second elven city on which Eragon had laid his eyes upon, it held a sort of interest to him. He wanted to know how the elves lived outside the rich capital of theirs. It turned out that both the cities were nothing similar except for the fact that both blended with the nature seamlessly.

Osilon had many settlements built out of fallen leaves, twigs and branches of trees unlike Ellesmera where most of the buildings were created by singing the live-trees into shape. The houses here were spaced greatly that finding another house from the courtyard of one was nigh on impossible. Accordingly, the city had so few residents.

“They love their privacy”, Arya said when he questioned her about it.

“So do all elves.”, Eragon replied incredulously.

“These more so than others. Elves have longer lives than others, Eragon. We live for so long that the losses incurred by us have lasting effect on our lives. That is why we take painful efforts to prevent such losses. The people who live here are old and broken that they lost all interest in socialising. So they choose to live in homes detached from the others.”, she explained.

For Alagaesia: 45. Take me. Leave him.

Eragon and Saphira didn't want to stay at Kirtan for the night. Even though they felt tired after days and days of travel, the need to go back to the Varden pushed them to pack for Silthrim. Further, the prospect of meeting with Katrina spurned Eragon. Arya too was in support of being on the move. It gave them a sense of purpose. So they thanked the townsmen and made for Silthrim by nightfall.

It was a four hour's flight from Kirtan to Silthrim, the largest elven city, Ellesmera aside. Saphira flew the whole distance at a stretch. They reached the city around mid-night. Even during such wee hours the city was bustling with activity. Yet it all seemed as calm as the midnight. Nocturnal animals roamed freely around the streets of the city and the birds of the night were busy doing their business. But not a single elf could be seen at the first glance. They seemed one with the trees around, on and in which they worked. The deftness with which the elves undertook their work was commendable. If ever any outsider were to stray into the premises of the city, they would find it difficult to even know that they have entered a huge city let alone detect the elves presence.

For Alagaesia: 43. Distress and Solace

As hours in Du Weldenvarden passed into days, Eragon started feeling more and more peaceful. The forest seemed to absorb his worries into itself leaving him fresh and calm. The fact that he could now speak frankly to Saphira about anything and everything like old times was another reason for his peacefulness. Her presence in the darkest confines of his mind which was wounded beyond healing was like a balm. Further, having Arya by his side always was new to him. Only on a few occasions before this had he had such moments with her. In fact, it was only when they had returned from the village of Eastcroft to the Varden camp that they had spent time together alone. All the other times like when Arya took Eragon to Ellesmera, the first time, there was Orik or others with them. Only the days when he had walked with her through the tree-lined streets of Ellesmera were the exceptions. Now, though, Arya was alone with him for days on end but for Saphira - he would have it no other way. If this was to be his life for the rest of eternity, then so be it. Even though, he won't have Arya in the way he loved to have her, he would have her as his true friend.

For Alagaesia: 42. The gamble

Rubbing her eyes, Nasuada woke up from yet another bad night's sleep. Ever since, Belatona was taken, she had not had complete rest.There always was a critical problem to be faced and overcome, the latest of which was spending the three-four months of cold winter at Dras-Leona.

On the surface, the rest seemed welcome giving the Varden a much-needed break from constant war. But on retrospection, Nasuada had serious doubts about spending the time idly except for fortifying the acquired lands. The rest would not only help enable the Varden to collect themselves but also the empire to regroup.

Ever since that thought entered her mind, quite abruptly after the departure of Eragon, Saphira and Arya, she had been restless, planning in her mind a means to keep the empire occupied with the Varden for the duration of the winter and if possible further weakening the foul King's army. A whole day's deliberations had eventually paid off and a rough plan materialised in her mind. But the plan was wrought with serious risks especially with the absence of her best warriors: Eragon and Saphira and her best war tactician: Arya. Not to mention, Eragon's surprisingly sharp battle plans and Arya's well-known valiance with the sword. Together those three were the greatest assets of the Varden and they were away from it now.

For Alagaesia: 41. Unlocking his mind

That night Saphira flew non-stop through the plains that were in the control of the Varden and the elves. It amazed Eragon that despite being so near to Uru'baen, they weren't in Galbatorix's lands. He could feel the minds of human and elven patrols on the ground. Even then, the thought of being near Uru'baen made him shiver with fear. It took all of his self control to control the urge. Saphira, who was carrying him and Arya who was behind him must not know that he was afraid. If they did, what would they think of him? No He would not show his fear to them.

Before long, the vast nothingness of the Hadarac welcomed him. Being lonely was what he loved. There, in the absence of other people, he could be himself. He could do and say whatever he wished without fear of being noticed and found fault in. Now, he was alone but for Saphira who was as much part of him as it was possible and Arya who would understand his fears more than anybody else in all the land. He ought to be free. Yet he couldn't. Something was holding him back. He had always imagined that when he was absolutely alone, he would be able to be himself again. He would be able to laugh and play with Saphira as he did always. But now, when the chance to be alone came, he was proved wrong. He was in no more ease than when he was at the Varden. He sighed heavily and accepted the fact as it was: he had become closed. Eragon didn't want to think of such unpleasant things for long for fear being caught by Saphira in the act of doing so and for the sake of his own sanity. So he diverted his attention to his surroundings.

For Alagaesia: 40. Choice between the eyes

The week after that shameful evening was spent on building fortifications around the city of Dras-Leona. Roran took it upon himself to oversee the rebuilding and strengthening of the defences of the city. As Eragon had expected, the people started following his cousin cheerfully. It always was a matter of people seeing Roran in action before they accepted him as their leader.

The council of elders had gone into seclusion after that evening, neither attending any meetings nor taking part in the rebuilding affairs. The people didn't seem to care for them any more as they did a week ago. Everything in the Varden was as smooth as it could be in a war-ravaged yet well organised community.

Eragon had met and spent time with Orik for which he hadn't had time ever since Orik was crowned king of the dwarves. He also met with and even trained his boyhood friends Alberiech and Baldor - both sons of Horst. They were good with swords to the level that if Eragon reduced his speed to their level, they could hold against him for a minute or so. Both young men were awed by Eragon's enormous strength which they said was an increase of no less than a hundred times his previous strength. Eragon could only smile and say, "Oh!?" for he had used only a bit of his strength against them.

For Alagaesia: 39. Cracks on the inside

The gentle breeze of the early winter morning had a hint of what was to come: A severe cold wave that would sweep through the land and last for four months. Eragon, sitting under a huge tree by the shores of Leona lake sighed heavily. Saphira was curled up near him shielding him from the biting cold of the wind.

Eragon had just contacted Vanir. Katrina had reached Silthrim only last morning. In all the rushes following the battle of Dras-Leona, which the Varden had come to call 'the black battle' owing to the loss of most of its war leaders including Jormundur, the commander-in-chief of the Varden army, Eragon had not contacted Katrina for the last two days. When last he contacted Vanir, the company had just touched the fringes of Du WeldenVarden. It might have been the sense of security that Eragon felt in the leafy confines of the elf-forest that he forgot to contact Katrina even after Roran had asked once to do so. But Eragon cursed himself for not contacting Katrina daily, atleast until she was safely settled in some elf-city.

For Alagaesia: 38. The losses in a win

The city seemed grossly unprepared to counter a siege of the scale of the one the Varden had organised. Eragon couldn't quite believe it because the towns of Feinster and Belatona were very strongly protected and defended by the armies of those cities.

The four days of marching of the Varden must surely have reached the ears of the city's lord, Marcus Tábor in one way or the other. The empire was not so dumb as to not have patrols in their part of Alagaesia, as far as Eragon remembered. But as it stood, Marcus Tábor had literaly abandoned his city to be taken over by the Varden. If what Brom said of that ruler was anything to judge by, it might have been possible that he hadn't got any orders from Galbatorix (by virtue of the evil king's travel outside Uru'baen in years and that too alone) and hence kept quiet and did nothing. But as a fact Eragon knew that a ruler wouldn't be that dumb.

For Alagaesia: 37. Beyond help

Roran turned back to get one last look of Belatona that had been his home for the past two months. The days spent in the city had been rough what with the capture and return of Eragon and the departure of Katrina. Ever since his wife had gone towards the elven homeland that morning Roran hadn't had any free time to think of her, being occupied with the preparations for leaving to Dras-Leona. It was probably a good thing because if he had had time then he would have brooded over all the improbable things and lost even the little peace of mind he had now.

The Varden had left a few soldiers and some women and children at the city trusting the patrols to inform of any empire troop movement in the area. Further, the perimeters of the countryside surrounding Belatona had long been secured by the Varden and it would be absolute madness for even a king as mad as Galbatorix to attack, especially when he knows that his enemy has moved on to attack his largest city after the capital, namely Dras-Leona.

For Alagaesia: 36. Heart-wrenching

"Is it a good idea, Eragon?", Roran asked for nearly the hundredth time that morning. Eragon, although fed up with answering the same question repeatedly said, "Yes, Roran. It will be for the best."

"Will she be safe?", Roran asked.

"Roran. Be calm. Vanir has promised me that he would do all he can to keep Katrina safe."

"Yes, I know. You said that already. Still, how will somebody else watch over Katrina like me or you?", Roran said, his voice etched with worry. Eragon was left speechless. Roran had, as a matter of fact, included Eragon as Roran's equal in caring for Katrina. The trust Roran had in him astounded Eragon. Feeling slightly embarrassed for sounding irritated, Eragon said, "Roran. You have seen the elves. They keep their promises whatever the price and Vanir has grown to be one of the few elves, I truly trust. I know of his skills. And Arya has promised Saphira that the other elves going are no mere warriors either. No harm will come to Katrina"

Roran nodded slowly as if pondering Eragon's explanation.

"Who will attend to her during the birth? Elain and Gertrude are here.", Roran asked after a period of silence when Eragon waited patiently for the next question to come for he knew there would be plenty of questions. Roran would never allow Katrina to leave if he had even the slightest doubt about her safety. But for this question, Eragon was unprepared.

"There will be many elves where she goes, Roran. They will take care of her.", Eragon managed to stammer out a response.

For Alagaesia: 35. A welcome party

It seemed anxiety was the only emotion Eragon possessed. He did his best to bring a calm look about his face but traces of his emotional self persisted, showing itself whenever some friend of his came to him to start a conversation. The party was arranged for him and so he was the centre of attraction of everybody. Even though Eragon was quite used to being the focal point of such gatherings, he felt it too much today to cope.

Whenever somebody came to speak to him, he eyed them with caution, a behaviour which Saphira noticed as 'over-cautious' and 'cold'.

'You are treating them coldly Eragon. They have come here for you. Be friendly', she said.

'As if I am not trying', Eragon replied. 'Oh, poor little thing.', Saphira said and covered her wings around him protectively. Eragon admired Saphira. Since she had promised that she wouldn't bring up the matter of his days in prison, she had not even mentioned about it once. Instead she had tried to bring peace to him by being close to him and advising him to behave as he would have before his capture.

For Alagaesia: 34. The wolves inside

He didn't remember sleeping on something as soft as what he was sleeping on now. As far as his memory permitted, Eragon remembered going to the balcony where Saphira lay curled and speaking to her about his encounter with Arya. He had suddenly felt so tired and had fallen into his waking dreams leaning against Saphira's body. But now he saw that he was covered in warm bed-sheets. Confused, he raised his head and tugged lightly at Saphira's wings. Saphira lifted her wings letting the bright morning sunshine hit his body. She stretched like a cat pushing away all sleepiness and said, 'Good morning, little one', brightly.

'Good morning, Saphira.', Eragon said getting on his feet scratching the scales on Saphira's legs affectionately.

'How, may I ask, I came to be covered in blankets?', he asked her wanting to clear his doubts.

'Arya came to visit me and seeing your pitiful state, had them brought here.', Saphira said nonchalantly. 'Oh..', Eragon said disgruntled by Arya's actions, given that she had strangely been silent all the while they walked back to the city, the last evening.

For Alagaesia: 33. Rotating wheels of life

Ten people stood around the dragon egg, each thinking hard about the kind of spell that would be laid on the egg. Eragon was among them and so was Arya. Murtagh's words rang clearly in Eragon's ears: "Don't touch the egg. You will die."

Eragon's mind raced through all the possible kinds of spells that someone as cruel and sadistic as Galbatorix would cast upon their most precious possession. Knowing Galbatorix, Eragon could guess that he will not only kill the person touching the egg without his permission, but also move the egg back to his treasury with energy from the person touching the egg. 'It would make the person weak and powerless. But it won't kill the person. So what trick would the usurper employ?', Eragon thought. He looked around him and saw that none in the group was anywhere near trying anything. Eragon sighed and thought more about Galbatorix. 'He likes to gloat about his achievements. He would like to do that to the thief too.', Eragon thought.

For Alagaesia: 32. Reunion

The pleasant melody in the air woke Eragon up. He flickered his eyes open expecting to see the dark and damp interiors of the prison cell. Instead he was greeted by a glorious blossom of flowers hanging just above his head. A shadow moved away from him and bright sunlight hit his face.

'Good morning, Little one', Saphira said and he realised that it was Saphira's wings that had given him shade. He turned his head around to see a group of elves gathered around somebody or something, he couldn't see.

'Good morning, Saphira... um, how long was I asleep? Where are we now?', Eragon asked afraid that he had overslept due to his tiredness.

'Oh, not much. You have been asleep only from yesterday evening. Just after you had fallen asleep, we reached the elven camp under Blodhgarm. Nobody wished to wake you. So we left you to sleep for a while'

Eragon peered at the sky taking his eyes away from the beautiful bunch of flowers that hid the sky from his eyes. The sun was almost at its zenith which meant it was nearly noon. He had slept nearly one full day and because of him they had made no further advance than the elf camp. He loathed himself for being weak.

For Alagaesia: 31. Sunshine at last

The sun was setting in the western sky, its golden rays playing hide and seek with the clouds. Roran watched it with a feeling of doom. Eragon's ring that had calmed down before two days had yet again warned him of problem for Eragon in the morning. Ever since Saphira and Arya and had gone looking for a way to free Eragon, he had been anxious. He didn't even know if letting them go was the right choice. But he knew for a fact that nothing could have stopped them from going. And he too didn't want Eragon to suffer anymore.

But one thing had troubled him so much in the past few days: if something bad happened to Saphira or Arya on their adventurous quest, Eragon would hold himself responsible for it and feel guilty. Knowing Eragon Roran also feared that Eragon may even kill himself if such a thing came to pass. He shuddered at the thought. It had been four days since Saphira and Arya left from the Varden. There wasn't any news from the since except calling Blodhgarm to their aid.