I do not have ownership of the Inheritance Cycle nor its branches. All credits, by right, goes to Christopher Paolini.

Rïsa

"My King, we have fallen under attack!" a burly man in his early thirties yelled over the loud commotion of war. The man searched throughout the vast throne room of his Lord-ship, Galbatorix; the self-proclaimed sovereign of Alagaesia. His king's dragon lay, as dark as midnight, unperturbed by the raging clash of the battle from within the city below. How can the king's dragon sleep in a time like this the man will never know. He hurriedly went to the Royal Chambers and found the intimidating sight of his king, standing and holding his only heir, Anteron. The young child gazed curiously up into his fathers' eyes, not knowing of the peril they were in.

"Zain,' Galbatorix turned to look at his steward in the eyes, 'I need you to take my son and leave the city. He is my only heir and in the off chance that I am slain today at the very least I'll know he'll be in safe arms."

"And where would you have me go, My King?" Zain asked as he took his Lords' son from his arms.

"Anywhere, where no one will ever learn of his inheritance."

"I'll head to Vroengard,' he looked down adoringly at the infant, 'it seems the most isolated." Galbatorix nodded in understanding.

"I have arranged for three spell casters, who are also trained warriors to aid you on this journey. They will be your personal guard." The King motioned for his steward to follow him and they went down into a secret passage that would lead them down into the King's private stables. Stopping just shy of the entrance, Galbatorix turned to his steward.

"Make haste, Zain, for you are holding my son,' Galbatorix unbuckled his blade from his belt and held it out for Zain to take, 'take Vrangr, and when he is old enough give it to him. Teach him everything; the spell casters will know of everything I have learned and even more, so they will help train my son and…" he was suddenly interrupted by a powerful explosion from above them and the rumbling growl of Shruikan, causing dust to fall from the ceiling. "Go! Now!" Galbatorix commanded and Zain quickly ran. The magicians were already astride their horses and patiently waiting for Zain to climb onto his. With Anteron in one arm and the other on the reins, Zain kicked the stallions' flanks and sped off quickly with his guard following close behind. With all speed they rode north, and once did Zain look over his shoulder and saw that Urû'baen was aflame and smoke rose high into the sky.

Who would have thought the Varden for how seemingly weak they were could lay waist to such a strong Empire….all because of a little hope they were given…thought Zain and continued on, pushing his horse even faster. They will have to travel north to city of Narda, which lay on the far side of the Spine. A long and arduous journey that could very well take a week and a half of traveling over vast plains, rolling hills and treacherous inclines of the Spine. Once they arrive at Narda, they'll restock on supplies and hire or steal a ship to the abandoned island strong hold of the Order of the Riders, Vroengard. Zain gazed down at the infant in his arm, who was sleeping peacefully.

One day you will have to return, and when you do, your actions will dictate how the masses see you as, Anteron.

Twelve Years Later…

"Anteron…ANTERON!" Zain shouted at the young boy in front of him. They had been practicing healing incantations for the better part of the day, but Anteron had lost focus for the fourth time in an hour; a sign of losing motivation for the days' lessons.

"WHAT!? You don't have to shout as if your mother just been murdered in front of you!" Anteron shot back, who nearly fell from the stool he'd been sitting on from being startled. "Besides, you know how sensitive my ears are, Master, so please try to keep it down." It was true, his ears were highly sensitive due to the fact that as of two years ago they changed from rounded like a human's to pointy like an elf's. Zain's only theory for the change was that the all of the magical energy that had infected the land, air and even the indigenous wild life, due to an incident during a battle during the Fall of the Riders, had made its way into Anteron's body and has been slowly changing his appearance.

"Don't disrespect me, my apprentice!" Zain shot back, effectively humbling the boy.

"Master, can we call it a day? I found this cave the other day and I have yet to search it." Anteron asked tiredly. Sighing, Zain gave in, what could he do? Curiosity and adventuring is key for a child's growth.

"Yes, you can, but I want to see results tomorrow am I understood?"

"Clear as day, Master." Anteron said in the ancient language, of which he had long mastered since he was very young. He bolted to his feet and left the hut in a rush of excitement. He ran as fast as he could to get to this cave as quickly as possible. He followed a narrow path along a heavily forested ridge, taking him deeper to the center of the island. The sun was just setting when he arrived at the mouth of the cave. The size of the entrance was astonishing, nearly making Anteron dizzy in bewilderment. The boy summoned a mages light and advanced into the dank, dark cave. Anteron followed the tunnel for what seemed like days, seemingly never to end, nor bend, incline, decline or even separate into other passages. The tunnel walls were smooth, as if something rubbed against countless times to bring it to such a state. He kept on until he realized his mage light was no longer reflecting off of the walls on either side of him, even the ceiling seemed to just disappear.

"HELLO!" his voice rang throughout the massive cavern and echoed nearly a dozen times. He laughed with mirth and astonishment. He continued on and stared up above him, trying to see how high the ceiling was at, but was interrupted by tripping over something. Landing on his face with a grimace. Groaning in pain he stood and dusted himself off and scanned the ground for whatever tripped him. His eyes widened in utter shock. What he managed to stumble on was an ancient skeleton of a very large dragon. He breathlessly scanned the rest of the surrounding area and found one…two…three…four…the number of dragons that died here kept growing and he stopped counting when he realized that the cavern could be so large that would take him days to search it completely. This must've been the greatest find the world never see. He was so shocked that tears formed in his eyes at this revelation, his skin crawled and tingles went up his spine. Something else in the distance caught his eye. The object reflected his light, making him think it was a large, oddly shaped piece of obsidian, but as he treaded closer his mind quickly threw that assumption away. He crouched down before the object and nearly choked on his own tongue.

"By the gods…this cannot be!" he strained quietly, tying not to give himself a heart attack. What he held in his hands was a pitch black egg. A dragon egg.

Meanwhile, Zain was busy preparing supper along with the three other spell casters, whom had been arguing over what utensil goes first; the spoon, fork or knife, which had been drawing upon Zain's patience more and more as quickly as an owl catches its breakfast. The shouting got louder and louder with every minute until Zain had enough.

"SILENCE YOU BUMBELING FOOLS!' he shouted so loudly the three were sure elves could hear from all the way in Du Weldenvarden, 'Quit arguing like a bunch of housewives at war with each other and just set the damned table!"

"Of course, my Lord." All three said in unison and just as they went about setting the table, quietly this time, Anteron smashed through the door screaming.

"Master! Master I have found something in the cave that I think you'll love to see!" Anteron made for the dining table, set whatever he had found in the cave onto it and then began to unwrap his shirt from the object.

"Not now my boy, I'm still cooking, wait till I am…" he was cut short by a startled yelp from Tsala, one of the spell casters. Zain turned around and nearly had a heart attack. Sitting on the dining table was a dragon egg, a rather large one too. Zain slowly, as if in a trance, advanced upon this magnificent find. Lightly gliding his hand over the smooth, obsidian colored surface. He looked over at his apprentice.

"You found this in that cave you discovered?"

"Yes, yes…it was amazing Master,' the boy took a deep breath continuing, 'there were dozens, just from what I counted, dragon remains. It was astonishing, it was almost like they died protecting this egg." He looked around at of their faces, which were all ashen in surprise. Zain took a hold of Anteron and gazed into the boys dark, stormy eyes.

"Your destiny is about to take a twist my son."

"What do you mean, Master?" Zain took a deep breath.

"You are to become a Rider."

"Wait, how do you know for sure?" the boy gave a skeptical expression.

"Things like this don't just happen to anyone and when they do, they are to become leaders, people capable of extraordinary things." Anteron took in what was said to heart and glanced over at the egg. Was he really to become a Rider? It almost seemed like a dream. He was afraid he might wake up and realize it wasn't at all true. Fortunately, fate smiled upon him and he smiled, elated that he was destined for greatness. As Anteron stood there staring at the egg, he made a vow to himself; he would one day become greater than any Rider he'd ever read about in history.

"Now, let's eat and get some much needed rest, for your training will change drastically come morning." Zain directed the young lad to sit down, while the others placed the food onto the table. The others sat down and dug into the feast before them. Anteron reached for the grilled chicken and looked over at the egg in the center of the table having heard something from within. He distractedly placed the chicken onto his plate and just when he was about to bite into the juicy meat, the dragon inside the egg decided to come out from its shell and meet the world.

In a sudden shower of obsidian shell pieces, a black as midnight obsidian dragon came forth. Everyone stopped eating and gazed at the wondrous sight that lay out before their very eyes. The little guy was indeed beautiful; with four tiny horns protruding from the back of its head and proud, graceful proportions, it most certainly had the makings of a magnificent dragon. The creature looked around with intelligent, violet eyes at everyone in the room. Everyone was smiling adoringly at the dragon and when its eyes finally laid on its master recognition passed through it. The dragon excitedly flapped its wings and a little growl of glee came from its jaws. Stumbling just the slightest, having never walked before, it inched closer to Anteron. Anteron moved his face closer in admiration and when the dragon got close enough it lovingly placed its forehead against its Rider's.

Instantly a bright light shined from his left hand, along with a nasty burning sensation. Anteron gasped and looked down at his hand just as the burning and light ebbed away, and from within its parting an odd scar in the center of his palm lay. It was the true mark of a Dragon Rider; the gedwëy ignasia, or shining palm in the common tongue. Laughing, Zain patted Anteron on his back proudly.

"Well, it seems my predictions are accurate."

I have become what I've always wanted to be my whole life…Anteron thought shocked to the core of his being.

† † † † † † †

Eight years had passed since that fateful night and now Anteron was a fully grown man, well not just any normal man. His metamorphosis continued on through his years and now he had all of the features of an elf; nothing really remained of his human side, except for his strong, broad build. His eyes slanted, ears pointed and jaw narrowed, he could easily be passed off as fair maybe even beautiful. His dark ebony locks had grown long and was combed back with two simple braids on either side of his head, just above the ears. He was now the strong, and trained warrior he worked so hard to be. A master in spell casting and an expert swordsman as well as hand-to-hand combat, he could be considered a worthy rider; and all thanks to his teachers.

"Alright, Vaernon, let's do this!" Anteron thought excitedly to his bonded partner in mind and in soul. Large, strong and proud and as black as the darkest obsidian, he was a most imposing sight to behold.

"With pleasure!" roaring to the heavens, Vaernon jumped from the cliff they had been perched on. Angling himself down into a straight dive, Anteron ducked down closer into his saddle, bracing for what was to come. An explosion off to his right rocked him nearly off his saddle, but with his inhuman strength he held on as more explosions rained all around them. However, his dragon was agile and quick and easily weaved and dodged from the highly explosive magic. The canopy of a thick forest below drew nearer and with it the flak intensified.

"We need to get out of this now!"

"I'm working on it!" Vaernon retorted in his deep, masculine voice. He just barely spiraled around a speeding blue orb before it exploded behind them. Directly below them was a gap in the canopy and nearly a second later they were bolted through. Vaernon masterfully leveled out and picked up speed, barely a foot off the ground. Anteron could see their target in the distance; a figure dressed in a robe with the hood covering its face. A bolt of purple lightning shot out from the figures' general area, to which Vaernon banked around.

"Alright, this is it!" Anteron hollered over the rush of wind as he stood up on his saddle, unsheathing a steel sword from his back, readying himself to jump. Time seem to slow as they came upon their enemy. Anteron sprang forth, using his unnatural strength and while flying over their opponent, he twisted around and swung his sword in a mighty arc of death. Effectively slicing the wooden head of the manikin clean off and using magic to drastically slow his trajectory and gently landed on his feet nearly twenty yards away.

"Great job, odd one!" Anteron smiled from the praise his dragon gave him.

"Couldn't have done it without you."

"I know." Laughing at his dragon's ego, Anteron turned and greeted the four magicians who set up the training course.

"Well done both of you, excellent work." Zain said with much pride in his apprentices.

"Thank you, Master Zain." Vaernon landed beside his rider and lovingly nudged Anteron with his snout. Rallend, one of the magicians whom taught Anteron the finer points of meditation and dark magic, went over to Vaernon to speak with the dragon. Rallend had once said to Anteron of how he came to know the arts of dark magic was from the young man's father, so one day Rallend could pass it on to Anteron. Anteron really enjoyed being in Rallend's presence, for the man was honest, kind and yet very sharp when wronged. And because of these attributes, Anteron would always honor Rallend's final lesson; never delve into the void that is dark magic, because the one who uses such could very well lose what they hold dear.

"That was indeed impressive, Anteron, you should be proud to know that you have completed your training." Tsala mentioned with a gleam in her hazel eyes. She was the one who worked with Anteron in the art of hand-to-hand combat, also teaching Vaernon key pointers on various maneuvers and other things that Anteron could hardly understand. She was a beautiful woman who was well in her third decade. A smooth, slim face contoured to her red, full lips. A physique one could gaze at for hours and still be infatuated. It was needless to say that Tsala was his first "crush" when he grew into his teens, but eventually grew out of it. She was exceptionally kind and always made Anteron smile.

"What do you mean, Master Tsala?" he asked, drawing the attention from everyone, even Vaernon who was always impassive to most matters that went on about him.

"We can no longer teach you anymore; you know all that we know." Tsala explained.

"It's true,' Anteron averted his questioning eyes to Kian, 'we've all agreed that once you passed this last lesson today then you will have all the knowledge that we possess." Kian was in fact a peculiar one. Quiet most of the time, only really spoke when spoken too or giving lessons. Kian was tall, with a peppered beard one could tell he was in his forties. His expression was always the same, impassive and very difficult to read, which annoyed Anteron to no end, but he still liked the man, for he was the one who taught him elemental magic and how to stay alert of his natural surroundings to know what he can't and cannot use.

"Then what the hell am I going to do now? Leave and never come back?" Anteron was lost now. Since he completed his training he had no idea where to go from there.

"Well, that is exactly what we want you to do, except the never come back bit. You always be most welcome in our midst." Zain said and grabbed Anteron warmly on the shoulders, turning the young man about to head back to the cottage.

"Well, why?"

"Because, well, from you come from,' the old man paused to find the right words, 'your father didn't want me to tell you anything of your past until you were ready, for he didn't want you to be haunted from what he was…" so Zain went on to tell Anteron, with the occasional assistance from the other spell casters, who his father was and describing Galbatorix's background and why he did what he did. That Galbatorix would have never admitted, but when Anteron was born he loved his son dearly, for Zain could see it in his Lord's eyes. Anteron listened intently, focusing his eyes on the ground in front of them as they strolled on a narrow path. Anteron was at first felt betrayed and disgusted, but as the story went on he saw reason and grew more comfortable from where he came from. Still, he refused to be like his father, for what his father did was cruel and twisted that even the meanest of Shades would not have done half of the crimes his father did. He did recognize that this was all in the past and just chalked it all up to curiosity for what his history was.

They had finally arrived at their cottage and walked in, Zain holding the wooden door them, all the while still talking. Zain explained that his mother was unknown to him, but he did know that she resided in a small estate near the western banks of Lake Tudeston. Zain told him the bane of his father was none other than Eragon Shadeslayer, whom he read much about in records and reports. It was odd, but he felt no ill feelings for the man, because he recognized that was Eragon's duty. Anteron was always fascinated with the new leader of the riders, especially after Vaernon hatched him. It was one of his goals to grow stronger to meet and challenge Eragon and his dragon Saphira, he didn't know why he wanted to; it just was a need for him. Zain brought over a hot kettle full of tea and served it for all of them to enjoy and relax; however, Vaernon was not relaxing, who was currently sticking his massive head in through the door. He was livid of what Galbatorix did, but managed to keep himself in control.

Zain continued on with telling how the Varden had gained control of the Empire and that the leader of the resistance was now the Queen of Alagaesia; her name was Nasuada. It was apparently an almost century long war between the two warring factions and it took men, dwarves, Urgals, and even the entire elven army to bring Galbatorix to justice; to say the victory was hard fought was an understatement. Many perished, but from these sacrifices the races of Alagaesia were finally free and the riders regained what was lost during the Fall. Zain made it clear Anteron that once he and Vaernon ventured forth that they keep his past a secret, many people wouldn't be too happy about his existence; all because of what his father did. Anteron made a vow within himself to try his best to outshine his fathers' misdeeds with courage and a kind, honest heart; to always do what is right.

"Which in where we come to this point,' Zain stood from his chair and went over to a cramped closet and rummaged through it until pulling out what seemed like a sword, 'this was your fathers sword and he wanted me to give it to you. It is in fact a Riders' blade, of which you already what they are capable of." He sat in his seat and handed the blade to Anteron, who stood and unsheathed the sword. It was a gorgeous blade. Fixed with an intricately carved metal cross guard that was pure white. The blade was a sickly color, pale was the only word that came to Anteron's mind to describe it. It was nearly obnoxious to look at, because even the hilt was white and the pummel, which was a huge, bright and beautiful diamond as clear as a mountain spring matched the rest of the incredible sword. Anteron caught sight of a glyph.

"Vangr." When he spoke the name of the sword, it began to glow with an eerie green while a black, smoke like substance wisped from the blade. Gasping, Anteron could hardly believe his eyes as the tip of the blade changed color. This change progressed along the entire blade advancing to the cross guard, hilt and lastly even the bright diamond changed to that of a dark and beautiful violet, while the rest of the sword was as black as midnight. The glow faded and the smoke like substance disappeared. The disappeared entirely and now the sword had a new master and a new beginning. It seemed that fate wanted Anteron to prove to the world that he was not his father in any shape or form, not even the sword would even let others question such. It seemed a new name for the sword was in order.

"In all my years, I have never seen anything like that,' Zain said bewildered, 'this proves that magic as we know it is just a small fraction from what it really could be."

"Even the glyph is gone." Anteron said glancing over at his masters, who all stared in wonder at the sword.

"What will you name it now?" Tsala's question rang through his ears. Hundreds of different words in the ancient language, but none seemed to fit until he thought of a word that in a sense spoke out to him.

"Draumr."

"Dream? Why that name?" Rallend asked, curious.

"Think about it; when you kill someone or something of intelligence in a sense you are putting them to sleep. So, with that in mind I came up with Draumr, because the name implies that the sword wants their opponents to dream, almost as if it wants them to rest at ease. At the same time though, the name will tell any opponent that the sword will end their life indefinitely. It's like the sword will slay you to dream."

"That's a menacing name. Hand the sword here and I will place the proper glyph upon it." Anteron handed the blade to Zain and the old man cupped both hands over the sword. A blue glow of magic came from underneath his palms and a second later it disappeared. Removing his hands, Zain inspected his work and grunted in satisfaction, while handing the sword back to Anteron, who sheathed it back into its scabbard, which also seemed to change color to match the sword.

"I want to leave today." He said suddenly, getting the attention from all in the room.

"Today? Well, I guess we could. It will only take me less than half a day to reach the shores of Narda." Vaernon said. Nodding his agreement, Zain stood from his seat.

"Go pack your belongings and we will get provisions together for you." Nodding, Anteron ran out of the door, Vaernon quickly following. The two went to a cave not too far from the cottage and immediately went to the saddle bags he had stowed away. He quickly packed his clothes, parchment, ink and quills along with the few books and gem stones he had, which were endowed with his magical energy. Setting down his sword, he went to dress in his armored boots. After buckling the clasps on the boots he went on and dawned a form fitting steel breastplate, as well as his sleek shoulder guards. He finished dressing after he clasped his steel gauntlets to his forearms; it wasn't full body armor, but it would do for the time being.

"You excited, Vaernon?" he asked his dragon while strapping his sword to his back with the hilt just reaching over his right shoulder. He then grabbed the saddle bags and strapped them onto the saddle and then making sure they were secure.

"Of course I am, Odd One, who in the blazes do you take me for? A damned boring old man?" Vaernon huffed sarcastically.

"I was just asking dammit!" Anteron admonished, but laughed anyway, for it was kind of funny. Vaernon lowered himself closer to the ground and Anteron gracefully as an elf mounted his saddle, strapping himself in as Vaernon turned about to head back to the cottage.

"Safe travels, my apprentice, and stay sharp." Zain said, with a tear leaving one of his eyes.

"We will be, and I will return, Master, I promise." Anteron said just as the other three finished packing food and a bed roll in his saddle.

"I'm going to miss you, son, please see that you stay safe, okay? I won't know what to do with myself if anything happened to any of you." Tsala was sobbing, drawing the comforting hold from Kian.

"Vaernon, keep this fool out of trouble for me." Vaernon turned his head to gaze at Rallend with one huge violet eye.

"Don't worry, I will see to that if anything." Vaernon hunched back, wings at the ready; he was preparing to take off.

"Farewell, my Masters." With that, Vaernon took off in a rush of thunderous wind. Angling himself to point himself in the right direction, Vaernon assured their destination and with a goodbye roar he sped up to cruising speed. Anteron estimated, if everything went smoothly, they would arrive in Narda just before nightfall.

"Ready to see the world?"

"I've been ready since I was real young." Anteron responded with much elation.

† † † † † † †

As the sun sat just over the horizon, Anteron and Vaernon finally reached the coastal town of Narda. Narda wasn't anything special to gaze at, but the duo, who have never sat eyes on such a thing, were mesmerized. Since the town sat on the coastline it was obvious that the main source of income comes from fishing. If one were to ignore the meager fortifications around the town, it was actually quite nice to look at. Bustling with activity and the people were energized and prideful of what they did with their lives. Anteron could tell however that small remnants of the Empire's influence remained, for when Vaernon, as rudely as it was, set down in the middle of the town's square the people gave them wary glances. Untying the leg straps from around his aching thighs, Anteron jumped down with all the grace that was expected from a rider.

"Well met, elf." Anteron turned towards the gruff voice. The man was, in a manner of speaking, a bear. He was just huge. His face was kind, yet stern and adorned with a nicely trimmed beards. The man stood around at perhaps a few inches passed six foot, so he towered over Anteron, whose height just barely scraped ten inches passed five feet. It wasn't just the man's height that almost intimated the hybrid, it was also the fact that this man was just a hulking mass of pure muscle, so muscular in fact that the veins in his arms bulged out profusely. If Anteron didn't know better, then he would've though this bear of man had an Urgal for a father.

"Indeed, my name is Anteron and this,' pointing behind him, 'is Vaernon."

"Ah, pleasure to meet you, Vaernon. It's not every day we are accompanied by a dragon their rider, so you must understand our initial shock." The man replied with a pleasant smile, his blue eyes sparkling.

This man must be a real catch amongst the women, Anteron thought humorously.

"This bastard is huge for his race!" Vaernon said in fascination.

"Mind your manners."

"It's not like he can hear me."

"I don't care, it's the principle." Anteron chastised, to which Vaernon grumbled some insult he didn't quite catch.

"Who might you be, kind man?" Anteron asked politely.

"Cadman, I am in charge of the security of this town. What brings you to our humble abode?" shaking the man's hand, not surprised the Cadman had a iron like grip; trustworthy individual.

"I'm merely stopping in to gather additional supplies, and do not fear, I do have coin."

"Trust me, taking you for a thief was the furthest from my mind." Cadman smiled and gestured for them to follow him. The man directed Anteron to all of the vendors that sold the basic items for long journeys. Anteron didn't much, but he wanted to be prepared and to him that was essential for any situation.

"Well, Anteron, this is where we part ways. I have duties that need my attention." Anteron shook Cadman's hand again and the large man trudged off.

"He was really nice." Vaernon's deep voice rumbled through their connection.

"I agree, pleasantly respectable." Anteron smiled and went to a nearby shop that sold leather and polishing supplies. He needed them, because he was almost out of the stock he already had. The man inside greeted him enthusiastically and inquired of what Anteron needed. He placed his order and the shop keeper spent a few minutes gathering the items from the back room. The man came out with a nice, thick roll of dark leather, which was high end quality product. On top of the roll was a few jars of polish, soft and hard brushes for scrubbing and of course a few rags for the polish. Anteron placed the items in a sack, leaving the roll of leather out and paid the correct amount with unmarked gold coins. Anteron couldn't very well be paying with coins with his father's insignia on them now could he? That was bound to be illegal. Bidding farewell to the shop keeper he left with Vaernon close behind.

He planned on going to a stand where they sold fruit and other such produce, because he didn't eat meat. He learned the hard way from hunting in the past that he could feel every emotion from the animal he had killed; that was the last time he did anything like that. He made his way forth, but stopped short when he saw a very peculiar shop in the corner of his eye. Anteron made his way to said shop and walked in through the beads hanging from the door frame, which were obviously put there to alert anyone that's inside of a stranger's presence.

"Well, well, look at what we have here." Anteron turned around to face whoever owned that sweet, melodic voice. He nearly choked when he laid his eyes upon a gorgeous brunette. Though shorter, which only added to her beauty, she was also endowed with all the important details that makes a woman. She wore an exotic dress and her hair was curly and somewhat disarrayed, but somehow was still a nice style and her eyes were just…spectacular. They were a soul piercing emerald and Anteron could tell that she held knowledge of grand proportions. She put off an aura of irregularity, but wasn't hostile in nature; however, something told him that she was not someone to make an enemy of.

"I think she would poison me in my sleep and just waltz away as if she had just done a fine act of humanity." He said to Vaernon, who just chuckled, but said nothing against it.

"My apologies for just walking in, but your shop caught my eye and I grew curious." Anteron explained. The woman smiled humorously and he couldn't help but smirk, it was that infectious.

"My, my, you sure are polite unlike the last one,' she went over to a small shelf and grabbed a black velvet bag, 'I'm Angela, whom everyone else calls the Herbalist."

"Well met, I'm…"

"Anteron, I know, I've actually been expecting you for some time now." She chuckled at Anteron's perplexed confusion plastered to his face.

"Well, this is odd…how did you know of my being?" growing a sense of protectiveness over his identity, Anteron prepared himself to bolt out of the shop with much haste.

"Relax, Anteron, I am most certainly not your enemy,' she sat at a low table, which had a few candles that were lit on top of the worn down table top, 'please, sit, make yourself at home." She smiled warmly and he took the seat directly in front of her. She opened the velvet back and dumped the contents onto the table. Anteron looked and were bones. Knucklebones perhaps?

"These are knucklebones from a dragon. They can tell me everything that will transpire in your future…and they are never wrong."

"Before you do though, would you mind explaining to me of how you came to know who I am?" she smirked playfully as if she was going to start teasing him; luckily she didn't.

"I have my ways, my young prince, whose father was the one and only Egg Breaker and bane of the old Dragon Rider Order. Trust me when I say this; I knew of your existence before you were even born, Anteron. When Eragon killed the king I was busy travelling and saw a certain group of four astride horses riding away from Urû'baen, as I had foreseen. I came to this town the very day you departed for Vreongard."

"And you've been here ever since?"

"Indeed. I most enjoy being in places where very interesting events take place. Most exciting to me it all is." Anteron finally came to the conclusion that this small, beautiful woman was in fact nuts, but it was a kind and humorous kind of crazy though.

"That's right, I remember reading about an Angela during my teachings." Anteron mentioned as realization hit him.

"It seems my reputation precedes me then." She said with a playful wink.

"I like her, either known I just don't get her."

"She is an interesting one isn't she?" Vaernon agreed.

"I saw your dragon today, and I have to say he is most spectacular." Angela glanced up at the handsome man in front of her. She had too admit, he was quite the looker. She guessed that in no time women would be crawling on their hands and knees for his attention, that's if he played his cards right.

"So, you going to read my future?" Anteron pushed, trying not to be rude, but he was anxious as to what it was.

"Someone's excited." She said playfully, but did as requested. She tossed the bones and hovered her hands over them, while her eyes gained a faraway gleam, but still seemed focused. She remained silent and he was hanging on one breath, awaiting to hear what will be revealed. Angela drew her hands away and gazed intently into his eyes, as if she was searching deep within his soul.

"You have a very difficult time ahead of you. While you may have the strength and knowledge to ward off those who mean you and ones close to you harm, you'll won't be prepared for an event that will shake your very resolve. You have returned to this land to not claim your place on the throne, but rather something of a much grander purpose. You'll meet heroes of the past and new enemies will emerge. Old enemies will be summoned once again to lay waste to the land and it will be up to you to decide whether you save or raze Alagaesia. Be warned, for maybe your heart will desire something else entirely, possibly acceptance or even love."

"So, I'm not to reclaim the throne?" he asked bewildered. Anteron thought that was his destiny when he found out what his heritage was. This is not what he wanted to hear at all, but it could've been worse.

"Did I stutter?" Angela asked bluntly with a raised eyebrow.

"No."

"Do you feel you can lead and govern an entire country that is still recovering from the evil reign of your father? Do you think you'll even be accepted due to your heritage? What of the New Order of riders? Could you tend to a country and be a part of such a vast way of life amongst other riders?" she challenged already know what the answer would be. Angela knew he was extremely intelligent, for she could see it in his eyes, but he lacked experience in just about everything.

"If you put it that way I don't stand a chance." He was beginning to feel incredibly self-conscious. Angela caught onto this and gave him a comforting smile.

"Anteron, you have the skills, but all you lack is experience. In time you will gain the experience and in order to do that you have to go out there and see what life has to offer you, and I guarantee you that you'll be surprised." With that said, the two conversed for a little while longer, until they noticed it was passed midnight. Anteron bade her farewell and told her he hoped to see their paths cross again someday. The young man left with a contented smile on his face, while Angela stood there with much curiosity running through veins. She was shaken out of her stupor when a certain cat came out of hiding.

"I was wondering when you'd come out." She turned and gave the cat a smile.

"I didn't want interrupt your conversation. You seemed to have enjoyed yourself." The cat spoke as his form morphed into that of a boy, who seemed young, but was actually older than most elves and was wise far beyond that of a few dragons.

"That I did, Solembum; that I did indeed." Angela said wistfully. Solembum chuckled, knowing what was to come.

"I assume you found yourself another one of your…peculiar interests?"

"Its official; start packing your things, we're traveling at first light." Angela bustled about with much energy as she began collecting all of her important trinkets and items, preparing to leave in the morn. Solembum sat there and observed his companions' renewed vigor with mirth, secretly elated for her excitement, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel apprehension towards their next adventure.

It seems we have ourselves a similar situation like before. I wonder how it'll all turn out, the were-cat thought.

"What do you think you're doing!? Go! We've got much to do and little time too waist! Be gone!" she commanded when she saw the were-cat just staring at her. Solembum grinned and went into the adjacent room to gather his things.

† † † † † † †

When the young prince left Angela's most peculiar shop, he mounted Vaernon who had been napping leisurely. Upon feeling his riders' presence he gave Anteron grief about being so infatuated with the woman, and enjoying her lovely voice far too much. Vaernon's teasing was good natured, but it still annoyed the man to no end, yet he did chuckle at a small bit of his dragon's jokes. He didn't deny that Angela was indeed a very gorgeous woman, a little odd to the point where Anteron would question his sanity, but that only seemed to the woman's curious nature. It seemed her personality made those around them to really use their minds on matters that could easily be over looked, and to make them strive to better themselves. Yes, Anteron had really enjoyed her company and certainly wouldn't mind being around her again.

Vaernon flew high in the clear night sky for well over an hour. They were deep within the realm of the Spine and Anteron could feel that his dragon was very hungry. Telling Vaernon to land somewhere so they could eat and sleep, the dragon quickly dropped in altitude and landed in a grove where a clear, small pond lay untouched. The grove was decent in size and offered quite the protection with high highs all around them. Plush grass made for a comfortable bed and the full moon offered just enough light to see comfortably throughout the grove. He untied the leg straps and hopped down onto the ground. Anteron undid the straps of the saddle and easily slid it off of Vaernon's back. Through their mental link, he could feel the emotions of relief run though Vaernon's body. The man set the saddle down onto the grass and set his bed roll beside it. Taking a pear from one of the saddle bags he gnawed into the soft, juicy fruit while lounged against the saddle.

"I'm going hunting, Odd One." Vaernon rumbled.

"Alright, take your time and enjoy yourself, I'll be just fine." He responded and Vaernon took off in a thunderous gust of wind. Anteron continued to eat the pear and gazed up into the cosmos, entranced by the individual lights floating among black velvet. He had no idea when he nodded off into a deep slumber, but it was gratefully welcomed from the days' exhausting events. Soon, Vaernon returned to see his rider fast asleep. The large black dragon quietly trudged over and laid down next to Anteron. He curled his tail protectively around the man and brought his wing over him to make a make-shift tent. Vaernon's breathing slowed and sleep took him as soon as he laid his head down onto the soft grass.

The first rays of sun burst into the grove, awakening a certain rider and his dragon. Vaernon shifted his wing so his rider could crawl out into the warm morning air, while stretching and yawning. Vaernon followed suit, nearly clawing away the grass underneath his claws when he stretched. Tiredly, Vaernon went over to the pond and thirstily lapped at the cool water. Smiling contently, Anteron went into one of the saddle bags and pulled out a large metal bowl, along with an ingredient for tea. He raised his hand over the top of the bowl.

"Adurna." He whispered and the bowl magically filled with clear water. He then switched placed his underneath the bowl. "Brisingr." His hands grew hot and slowly the water heated up until it was boiling. Anteron grabbed the tea ingredients and dropped them into the hot water. Once the mixture fully dissolved, Anteron took a large gulp. He sighed with pleasure as the sweet, herbal taste poured down his throat.

"How did you sleep, my friend?" the man asked his dragon, who was currently sitting on his hind legs observing his rider.

"Quite well, and you?"

"I feel as if I just slept on a cloud. It was very refreshing."

"That's good. So, what are we doing from here on?" Anteron pondered on the question as he gulped the last bit of his tea.

"I really have no clue. I figured we would just keep going until something catches either of our interests. Now that I think about it, we could go visit the elves."

"Are you sure that would be wise? From what I hear elves are very perceptive and if one were to discover your past how do you know we will be safe among them?"

"I don't. The only thing we can rely on is the fact that they are an ancient race and that they know not to jump to conclusions of negative properties. Chances are if they discover who I am is that they won't judge me for who my father was and let me make out who I will be."

"If you say so, I will support you, but if they ever try to hurt you I will burn their precious forest to the ground." Laughing, Anteron stood and went over to hug Vaernon's snout lovingly.

"I have no doubt that you would." He said and the dragon grumbled with his eyes closed in affection.

Soon after their conversation, Anteron had bathed in the pond and after he strapped the saddle onto Vaernon's back. Sheathing his blade across his back he gracefully climbed into the saddle, strapped his legs in securely before the black dragon thunderously rose into the sky. Vaernon angled himself in the direction of Du Weldenvarden and sped up to a brisk, yet comfortable cruising speed. Enjoying himself, Anteron gazed down below as the last few peaks of the Spine passed down below. It had only been about an hour of flight and they were already out of the Spine and were passing over rolling grassy hills, with a small farm or two in the distance. Things were good and both dragon and rider were anxious to meet the elves.

They traveled through the night, much to Anteron's worry for Vaernon, but the dragon assured him he was quite alright. Trusting the dragon's judgment, Anteron nodded off a few hours to pass the time. In the late morning, Anteron awoke to see that Vaernon was descending towards a lush, thick forest. Vaernon had finally felt the strain in his wing muscles and had decided now was the best time to rest for a bit. Landing heavily before the tree line of Du Weldenvarden, the duo ate their respective meals. Vaernon, having caught his prey as soon as they landed, was digging into the carcass of a large buck, with a doe lying next to him in wait. Anteron finished off his fresh fruit supply, but he still had plenty of bread, cheese and dried fruit to consume, not to mention the vast supply of various herbs for tea. Anteron let his dragon sleep for a few hours while he meditated some distance away.

As early afternoon came, Vaernon awakened from his slumber and licked his chops, clearly thirsty. Luckily, a stream was nearby and he gulped down as much as he could hold. By the time the dragon was finished, Anteron was waiting for him, so they could continue onward. He mounted into the saddle and Vaernon swiftly took flight, flying just over the tree tops. Anteron judged by the speed and distance they already had traveled then they will be well within the outskirts of Ellesméra in two days. Even as they flew over the forest, they could feel how ancient the magic was deep within the trees, even more so as they progressed deeper into Du Weldenvarden. He could just sense that time held no meaning what so ever here. Proof that this forest and elves that dwelled within were stagnant, not moving along with the rest of the land. He and Vaernon were also a part of this time-scape, they won't die for thousands of years, either known Anteron was born a human he felt it in his bones that he would live the long lives the elves would. All due to his transformation. It was an extremely daunting idea.

The next day when late afternoon rolled in, they decided to make camp. Anteron knew they were close to the capital and it would be only a matter of time before they would be confronted by Gilderien the Wise, Prince of House Miolandra, Wielder of the White Flame of Vandil, and the Guardian of Ellesméra. They would have to move on foot when they awake the next morning and be granted passage into Ellesméra. As morning came, so did the urgent shouting of Vaernon's deep voice in Anteron's skull. Grumpily and tiredly crawling out from the dragon's massive wing he voiced his complaints out loud.

"What in the hell has gotten you so worked up!? This better be damn good!?" Anteron all but shouted at his dragon, who gave him an annoyed glare.

"Shut your trap and look around!" his dragon commanded and Anteron followed what had caught Vaernon's gaze. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw dozens upon dozens of elves surrounding them. They were all armed, men and women alike, but none had their weapons drawn. They all merely looked on intently at the dragon and rider. It almost made Anteron's skin crawl at their intense stares. Movement caught his attention and he watched as a beautiful elven woman advance towards them. She had a silver mane of hair with a few braids intertwined within the locks. Her eyes were a striking onyx color. Lips red and full, a clear sign of a fully matured woman. The elven lady wore a soft green tunic, dark brown leggings and matching boots. She had a bow and quiver slung across her back and a gorgeous, thin sword at her hip. She walked with a confidence and grace of a warrior, and also with the beauty of a woman of her stature. The elf came within two feet of Anteron and brought her index and middle fingers of her right hand to her lips in greeting.

"Atra esterní ono thelduin. Mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr. Un du evarínya ono varda, Shur'tugal." A melody escaped her lips and nearly made Anteron become entranced, but he managed to place his fingers to his lips.

"Atra du evarínya ono varda." He said to complete the ritual greeting of the elves. The elf then turned to Vaernon, who had been watching the exchange closely.

"Well met, skulblaka." She bowed and Vaernon dipped his head. At this, the other elves burst into a flurry and cheering and laughing. It really unnerved him how they were so serious a moment ago, but then suddenly excitement flowed all around seemingly out of nowhere.

"I am Til'dranria. I am the commander of Queen Islanzadí's cavalry. Now, if you will follow me, I will lead you into our humble city." At that, Anteron mounted Vaernon and followed the elves deeper into the forest. As they moved on, the elves around them laughed and complimented Vaernon about the majesty of his scales and his piercing, violet eyes. Anteron could feel the bashful emotions flowing through Vaernon from the avalanche of comments of his appearance. Anteron had to admit, he was drawn in by their gleeful attitude; it was truly a beautiful thing to behold.

As expected, Gilderien the Wise made his appearance. Anteron was truly amazed the beauty of such an elf, either known he was ancient the years did not show on his serene features. He did not say anything, but rather gazed down at Anteron and the young elf knew his identity had just been revealed to Gilderien. The elf did not jump to conclusions and outright deny him entry, but rather motioned for Anteron to show him his mark as a rider. Anteron complied and it seemed the ancient elf focused on his palm so intensely that it made Anteron think if the elf wasn't really looking at his palm, but rather at something far more complex and deep than anyone could imagine. It took a few moments, but eventually he was granted access into the great elven capital.

"That was pretty intense. Did you notice everyone around was practically holding in their breath?" Vaernon said as they proceeded between two incredibly massive trees. Upon closer observation, Anteron saw that there were homes built within the trees. No, that wasn't right. It seemed the homes were a part of the trees, as if that was how they grew. Anteron knew how the elves did this from his lessons. The elves would sing in the ancient language and eventually these homes came as the result; a beautiful form of magic.

"No I did not, I was more worried about my past being forcibly exposed." As they continued, Anteron noticed more and more elves revealing themselves from within the woodwork. They laughed and joked and played as if they were young children. Anteron noticed some of the elves had altered their appearance, which wasn't all that odd for the young elf, for he had heard that elves practice this quite often. Some resembled dragons, with patches of scales on their arms and faces, even their eyes were that of dragons. While others looked like cats, which was a little striking, but Anteron thought it was quite elegant. The group stopped in front of a large wooded structure, Tialdarí Hall. The hall of Queen Islanzadí and her appraised daughter, Arya. Both of whom Anteron was anxious to meet. Anteron dismounted and jumped to the lush grass below.

"Come this way, Shur'tugal." Til'dranria stepped in front of him and motioned him forwards towards the hall. Anteron followed with Vaernon close behind. They approached a large doorway that was filled with interlocking vines and branches. The commander approached the obstruction and spoke a few words so quietly, not even Anteron's sharp hearing could make out what it was she was saying. Not even a few seconds after she finished speaking did the obstruction began to shift and eventually revealed what was within. Following the commander, they gazed at the massive size of the hall.

Trees, tall and nearly as big around as Vaernon is long. They soared into the air until they formed a canopy that interlocked and formed the ceiling. Flowers of all exotic species rimmed these trees and along the outer walls. When Anteron looked off to his right, he caught a glimpse of a garden that contained a very odd species of flower; black morning glories. Anteron never seen anything like those before. He averted his eyes forward and saw the most beautiful woman he'd ever lay eyes on. She wore an ebony tunic, embroidered with red stitching. A long, flowing, blood red dress adorned her hips and nearly touched the neatly trimmed grass she stood upon. Her long ebony locks fell passed her shoulders and a headdress was elegantly placed atop her head. Her eyes were of the deepest emerald and her lips full and nearly as red as her dress. Anteron could not tear his eyes away from this goddess of a woman, whose skin was flawless and the color of hazelnut cream. This must be Queen Islanzadí. Then Anteron gazed to her right and noticed a woman who exactly resembled the Queen, but rather wore ebony leggings with matching knee high boots and tunic. A Riders' blade was buckled to her hip and her long, thick ebony hair was tied up in a dark strip of leather, obviously meant to keep her hair out of the way in a fight. She, like her mother beside her were strong warriors of the highest caliber.

"Look, Vaernon, they've got a friend for you!" Anteron teased his dragon when he noticed a very large emerald dragon sitting beside the princess. Vaernon huffed, but said nothing. They stopped within ten feet of the Queen and Anteron bowed with his right index and middle fingers to his lips and left hand over his heart, while saying the ritual greeting when one addresses another of higher rank. The Queen remained impassive, but respectfully greeted him in return as did Arya beside her.

"Well met, skulblaka." Islanzadí said to Vaernon, who bowed his head in respect.

"Indeed, your majesty." The black dragon said with his mental connections open to all in the area. The commander then took her leave to attend to her duties; possibly train her warriors.

"What brings you here, Shur'tugal?" Islanzadí inquired.

"My name is Anteron and my friend here is Vaernon. As to why we are here, well we are merely venturing and experiencing what lays all around us." The two women eyed him with curiosity.

"You speak as if you've been closed off from the world."

"Well, my Queen, we have been. It is a rather long story if you care to listen?" he asked, silently hoping they'd want to, because he actually wanted to keep talking to Islanzadí.

"Let us dine and we will listen to you story, to which I am curious to know." The Queen motioned for them to follow them and proceeded into a large adjacent room. In the center was a large wooden dining table that seemed to grow out of the ground. The table was ringed with elegant chairs, with the chair at the head of the table being the largest, obviously where the Queen would sit. The room was large enough to fit multiple dragons, so that if the Queen did have company that were Riders then their dragons could join as well. Islanzadí sat at the head of the table with her daughter to her right. The dragons had already began to converse when Anteron felt and heard some of their words through his dragons' mind. The Queen motioned for Anteron to sit at her left. When he sat, elves came in and placed silver chalices in front of them and pouring what seemed like faelnirv, an elven liquor made from elderberries and spun moonbeams. Anteron took a sip and instantly adored the sweet, burning taste in his mouth.

"So, Anteron, let us hear your story." The princess spoke for the first time. Her voice was like the sweetest melody in Anteron's ears.

"Of course, Arya Dröttningu,' he said with a kind smile, 'I was born on the island of Vroengard…" he was interrupted by the Queen gasping and even Arya kind of flinched. Somehow, Anteron knew this was going to be reaction he would get.

"And how did this come about? The island is inhospitable." Islanzadí said, composing herself to her usual impassive, emotionless expression.

"My masters, whom my mother was among, traveled to Vroengard to escape some dangerous…people. When they arrived, my mother gave birth to me and I have to tell you, I was not born an elf." Anteron was inwardly loving how he was changing up his story just the slightest bit.

"Please, explain." Arya pushed, clearly intrigued by his past, either known she was trying to hide it behind a mask of indifference.

"My masters believe that when the battle between the Old Order and the Forsworn that with all of that magic released during the confrontation, and then infecting the land, that same energy had somehow infected my body while growing up. At first my ears changed, making everything quite obnoxious to listen to at first, but I eventually got used to it. Then my body began to change, very slowly. When I found Vaernon in a cave and he hatched for me, my metamorphosis increased in potency and speed and when I turned to the age of seventeen my evolution had completed." He was pleased with the expressions of wonder from the women in front of me.

"What's the story behind that sword? It looks familiar, but I cannot tell for sure." Islanzadí mentioned.

"It was given to me by my father."

"May I have a look at it?" Anteron unsheathed his blade from his back and carefully handed it to the Queen, whom, along with her daughter, stared in wonder at the beauty of the blade. Islanzadí Inspected closely at the black blade and studied the glyph that was inscribed. Arya leaned in closer to see what the glyph was, and then looked up at Anteron with a peculiar expression.

"Draumr?' Anteron nodded, 'it's a fitting name." Arya said. Just as she finished saying, both she and Anteron looked over at their dragons.

"I am going hunting with, Firnen." Vaernon stated and the two dragons left the dining hall.

"I must say, Arya Dröttningu, Firnen is a most hansom dragon." Anteron smiled, to which Arya gave a quick quirk of the lips.

"Isn't he? Well, your dragon is quite beautiful as well. What is his name?"

"Vaernon; he chose it himself. I made sure of that. So, what's the story behind you and Firnen?" as soon as he asked, Arya's eyes lit up instantly in excitement. So, the princess does have emotion.

"Well, it was when Eragon Shadeslayer his dragon, Saphira and myself took down the king and his dragon. During the fight, a Rider named Murtagh, who was previously under the control of the Black King along with his dragon, Thorn, broke free of their bounds and joined the fight against the King. The two dragons and I confronted Shruikan, while Eragon and Murtagh fought Galbatorix. After we won, I found Firnen's egg and brought him back here. Not too long after that he hatched for me." During her recount of what happened, Anteron tried his best to keep his composure, but he thought he saw Islanzadí saw his slight change in expression, but if she did she did not let on.

"That's right. I heard about that. It was a grand feat no matter how anyone sees it. Come to think of it, aren't you a Shadeslayer as well? I believe you destroyed Varaug, during the battle of Feinster." Arya nodded with a slight grim look in her eyes, obviously remembering that fight.

"That is correct…" she was interrupted when a few elves came in with platters of various fruits, steamed vegetables and a variety of nuts. Fresh bread was set between the three along with honey, honey butter and raspberry jam. Anteron's stomach rumbled for the spread that was laid out before them. The two women glanced over at Anteron, who was currently blushing a storm in embarrassment. Mother and daughter, began to convulse in laughter, and did this wondrous sound make Anteron's heart skip a few beats? Yes it did.

"My apologies." He grumbled before taking a bite of a plump, soft and juicy pear.

"Nonsense, 'Islanzadí giggled while looking him in the eyes with a sweet smile, 'it's only natural after all." Arya nodded in agreement, who was cutting steamed and seasoned cucumber in small bite sized slices. Islanzadí was currently spreading honey butter over a thick slice of bread. Anteron didn't know why, but he was really enjoying being in the presence of Islanzadí and Arya. There was just something about the Queen that just his heart flutter. It kind of worried him, because he didn't want her to think he was obsessed with her, especially when they just met. He decided to keep an extra tight leash on his emotions.

"So, your masters say you passed your training. Does that mean you'll be looking for more training?" Islanzadí asked after swallowing the bite of buttered bread she had taken recently.

"I'm not sure. I was thinking about staying here and learn what I can from the elves. Perhaps I will ask Rhunön to take me in as an apprentice, or I might even chase moles around!" he joked at the end, which seemed to make the two chuckle lightly.

"I'll have you know that Rhunön is rather…ill-mannered and she's never taken a student under her wing before. However; she is the best at what she does." Arya mentioned.

"All the more reason to get her to teach me. It might do her some good to pass on her legacy." Anteron said. The next hour was filled with small talk with a discussion or two regarding the events after the war and how Nasuada was handling the Empire. The two completely brought Anteron up to date after the death of his father. Apparently the land has finally settled down in peace that was hard earned for over a century. Their meal had finished not too long within the hour, but Anteron decided to take his leave with a friendly farewell and promising to come by later to chat more if the two weren't busy. After the Rider left the hall the two women began to chat about their recent guest.

"He's a friendly one." Islanzadí said, absently gazing where Anteron had just left.

"I think you've taken a liking to him, mother." Arya smirked, secretly happy that her mother had finally taken an interest in someone after so long.

"I might have, we shall see, 'the Queen grinned lightly and looked at her daughter, 'so, how's Eragon doing? Have you expressed your undying love for him yet?" when it came to teasing, Islanzadí was a master at it. This was just payback for the attempted tease regarding her mother's interest in Anteron. Arya looked at her mother with an expression that nearly brought a violent fit of laughter from Islanzadí, but she kept her resolve.

"That was uncalled for and you know it!" Arya scolded.

"I'm just taking as interest in my daughter's obsession." Arya spluttered and glared at her mother.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself while gazing into Anteron's dreamy gaze, 'Arya grew an evil grin and leaned to whisper in her mother's ear, 'did your heart skip when gazing into his violet orbs? Did your body react to his beautiful smile?" Arya was satisfied when she saw her mother's cheeks glow pink.

"Yes, in fact I did. The difference between you and me my precious daughter, is that I can admit if I have an attraction to someone. You and Eragon have a chemistry that could rival mine and your father's if he was here. Why can't you open up to him? He clearly adores you, Arya." Arya sat back and looked away, eyes growing sad.

"It's too late now, he's gone and most likely won't return." Islanzadí gently cupped her daughters' chin in her soft palms, making Arya look at her mother.

"If he was here would you tell him your feelings for him?"

"Yes, without a doubt."

"Then contact him to come here." Arya nodded and smiled lovingly at her mother. Their relationship has become so much stronger since the end of the war. They still had their arguments, but they could work it out and move on.

"I'll see what I can do. What about your interest in Anteron?" they smiled at each other and sat back in their chairs.

"Well, we've just met, so I'm going to see where things go from here. Fortunately, he's going to be staying here for a while. That'll give us a chance to know more about the other and eventually trust each other. Plus, I did see how he was looking at me, which he hid pretty well. I might not have noticed if I wasn't watching from the corner of my eyes. At least he is attracted to me, which is a start." Arya nodded in understanding.

"Did you notice the dark look his eyes took on for a mere second when I was telling him about the fight with Galbatorix?"

"Indeed I did. He seems to be hiding something. For however long the look lasted, it was a very strong emotion. It must be a very dark secret of his."

"I'm sure in time he might open up and reveal it, 'Arya assured and stood to leave, 'I am going to find our guest and show him around and tell him where his chambers will be. Who knows, maybe I will place his chambers right next to yours. It might speed things along." She teased as she left the dining hall, leaving the Queen to her thoughts.

After all this time fate has brought someone before me that could be a potential friend and perhaps something much more, Islanzadí thought to herself while biting her bottom lip, anxious to see how future events will play out. She stood from her chair and went to her study to tackle the mountains of reports and paperwork that had collected on her desk for the past few days. She smiled the entire time while conducting her business, joyful in the fact that Anteron had brought a warming touch to her dormant emotions. Anteron had no idea what was coming for him, but it would bring a smile to his lips whenever he saw the Queen.