Thanks so much to my reviewers, and I'm so sorry for the way too long update! I put this story on hold to finish another of mine, and I failed to realize that it's been an entire year and almost a half since my last chapter. –grimaces– I'll take into consideration the time it takes me to update the next chapter.

In lieu of my absence from this story, Chapter Nineteen is over six thousand words. Hope you like. :)

Disclaimer: See Prologue

Chapter Nineteen

Nurélia's head pounded while she struggled to adjust with this surge of new memories cascading through her mind. The sense of vague familiarity surrounding each one was a little disconcerting, but it was also comforting in a strange way. They filled in most of the holes in her memories of growing up with Galbatorix. Of course, they also contradicted most of the memories with the dark king as well, which made this chaotic jumble in her mind all the more confusing.

She began to sort through the memories with a bit of difficulty, noticing that the ones with Galbatorix somehow didn't have as much of a genuine feeling about them as the others with the man and the two women, whose names still eluded her. They came in kind of fuzzy, and it was rather quite irritating, really.

She began to delve into the matter more and realized that she didn't have any of these memories until Blaze started thrashing about in her mind. She knew a dragon's power could be limitless, as no one really knew how much a dragon could do, but she honestly didn't think Blaze would create all of these memories. For what reason would he? They had to be hers from growing up with these three familiar strangers – if that made any sense. Then suddenly, she began to remember little details about each one of the strangers: How the woman's hair felt so soft when little Nurélia used to run her tiny fingers through it, and the feel of her lips on her forehead when she tucked her in; how the man's laugh sounded when little Nurélia would do something silly just to hear his beautiful, singsong of a laugh; and the way the elf smelled like honeysuckle when she used to bring her close in a warm embrace.

Nurélia's frustration surmounted when the memories began to swim in her mind as she went through them one after another with each one passing by her consciousness even faster than the last. She tried to slow their speed, if only just a little, but couldn't seem to grasp any of them longer than a second.

Blaze! she cried out, pleading. Help me make sense of this, please!

The only way I will be able to, he began gently, is if we both work together to destroy the solid barrier in your mind.

I don't care how you do it, she shouted in desperation. Just, please, do it quickly! It hurts me so!

Blaze merged as much power as he could with hers and they strove to demolish the seemingly unbreakable wall. Instead of wasting time looking for a weakness, as Blaze was sure the wall resealed itself fully from the last time he tried, they set to work bashing against the wall with all the energy they could muster, trying to weaken it that way. Blaze found the process much easier with Nurélia's cooperation, as the wall didn't seem as strong with her knowledge of it being in her mind. The wall began to crumble within the first couple of good hits, making Nurélia gasp with the force of memories that suddenly escaped through the hole they had made.

With Nurélia too absorbed in her memories, Blaze was forced to continue with beating down the wall on his own. But he didn't mind; the wall was caving. He gave one more huge push, putting the rest of the energy he could spare into the action, and the wall finally gave way.

Nurélia grimaced as every lost memory surged through her mind, each one pressing upon her as though afraid it would be forgotten again. The throb of them was almost unbearable. She couldn't handle the rush and soon fell under unconsciousness.

… … … … …

Thorn flew with all his might towards the place Murtagh and he sensed Nurélia and Blaze. The scene Murtagh took in when they neared the two made his heart rate quicken and a pressure settle in his chest. Blaze was standing with his head bowed over Nurélia's seemingly lifeless form.

Oh, no, he thought to Thorn in a dejected tone. Thorn, are we too late?

What, has your affection for this girl made you incapable of thinking clearly? he asked his Rider, somewhat annoyed. Use your magic and sense her. You will find that she is very much alive.

Murtagh felt his cheeks burn in embarrassment and tried to keep that emotion from Thorn. He felt a little ridiculous for assuming such a notion and even more so for voicing it to Thorn. Not to mention his disregard of his magic.

Thorn landed several yards in front of Blaze, but neither the dragon nor his Rider acknowledged their arrival. Murtagh jumped down from Thorn and rushed over to the pair. As he drew closer, he realized that Nurélia wasn't motionless as he first thought and was in fact thrashing side-to-side with an expression of pain that creased her usually smooth face.

"Blaze, what's wrong with her?" he asked the flame-orange dragon with immense concern, his eyes never straying from Nurélia. Blaze didn't answer, forcing Murtagh to glance in his direction. His eyes were closed, and he seemed to be concentrating on something, as the ridges above his eyes were slanted down and his jaw was set. Murtagh let his question go and turned his attention back to Nurélia.

He felt so helpless just sitting there and decided that the only thing left for him to do was to delve into her mind and try to help that way. He probed his mind out for hers and slammed right into a steel wall. As he searched for a way through, he felt the wall pulsate, as though the wall itself was alive. This confused him greatly, but he didn't have much time to brood on the reason because a second later the wall gave a powerful surge outward. His mind ricocheted off the pulse as an arrow would a metal shield and forced him back, not only his mind, but his body as well.

Murtagh gazed up at the midmorning sky from the flat of his back. His head throbbed horribly, and it took him a few seconds to remember why. He slowly picked himself up from the ground, taking deep slow breaths to resist the urge to toss up his breakfast. A groan escaped with an exhaled breath, and he put his hand to his head, as though it being there would somehow stop the pain. Of course, it didn't.

"What happened?" he asked no one in particular. Thorn decided to answer.

Well, when you foolishly tried to interfere, Galbatorix's barrier, the structure he put in Nurélia's mind to encase her true memories, exploded as Blaze and Nurélia forced it open. Your presence caught most of the blast's energy, which launched you backwards.

"Oh, how would you know?" Murtagh asked, irritated at his dragon's tone. He spoke as though he knew all along what was going to happen, and Murtagh highly doubted that was the case.

I am a dragon, he said with arrogance. We know everything. Murtagh looked at him pointedly and raised an eyebrow. Blaze snorted, blowing huge puffs of smoke out his nose. Murtagh glanced his way, realizing just then that Blaze was aware of their presence and listening to the conversation.

All right, so Blaze told me a few small details, Thorn said dismissively. But it wasn't much.

"Right," Murtagh retorted with disbelief. He turned back to Blaze. "How is she?"

The struggle to acquire control over her own mind left her exhausted. She is resting now, Blaze said.

Murtagh nodded his thanks and knelt by her side to wait. Her laying there triggered his memory of the first time he saw her unconscious. Although this time he wasn't the cause of her current state, he thought with satisfaction. A smile spread across his lips. She looked so peaceful sleeping there. After a few minutes, though, her skin was reddening and beads of sweat began to slide down her forehead. Murtagh noticed that he was also perspiring, as a bead slid down to his chin. It was still only midmorning, yet the heat of the Hadarac sun was already becoming intolerable. He asked Thorn to spread one of his wings over Nurélia to shield her from the sun. Thorn rolled his eyes but did as he was asked. Murtagh healed Nurélia's slightly burned skin and then dabbed her forehead with a cloth he soaked in his cold canteen water to keep her cool.

It was a little past noon when she first began to stir. He watched as her head moved from side-to-side far less vigorously than before, her eyes fluttering. They slowly opened, and it seemed to take a moment for them to focus. Her forehead crinkled, probably trying to figure out what he was doing here, but then she smiled. It was weak, but a smile nonetheless. He returned it with a grin of his own and helped her sit up, since she was struggling to do so. He braced her back with his arm, which made her lean into him a little. His heart gave a tiny leap, but he silently berated it, remembering how they took leave of each other only four nights ago.

"Perhaps it would be best if you lie back down," he suggested firmly but not unkindly. "You're too weak to hold yourself up."

"Yes," she whispered, her voice not strong enough for anything louder. "But you're doing a great job supporting me." It pained Murtagh to see her so frail and conveyed some of his energy into her, which even gave her pale cheeks some color. She gave him a grateful smile, but soon her expression grew remorseful. She stared into his eyes, her own beginning to well with unshed tears. "I – I'm so sorry for whatever I've said to you before, Murtagh. I didn't mean any of it. Galbatorix did something to me—"

"I know," he said gently. "It's all right."

"No, it isn't," she persisted, her gaze shifting down to her lap, which let the tears splash softly upon her hands. "I've said awful things. . . . And my apologies extend to you, too, Thorn," she said, turning to him. "I may not have said anything out loud, but I was thinking of some horrible things that I'm ashamed to admit."

I thank you for your apology, Rider, Thorn replied. But it is unnecessary. You were acting not of yourself, and none of what you were thinking was ever voiced. So, how I perceive it, it never happened.

"You see? It's all forgotten," Murtagh insisted. "As you said, Galbatorix persuaded you to act in such a way. I know what it feels like, believe me." Nurélia nodded, though Murtagh could tell she was still feeling guilty.

"Hey, it wasn't your fault," he said gently, lifting her chin so her eyes would meet his. They glistened from her tears though she was no longer crying. He picked up the wet cloth he used to dab her forehead, said a quick word to dry it and wiped her tear-streaked cheeks with the cloth while he spoke. "Besides, insults only go as deep as you let them. I knew the real you didn't really mean what you said."

She smiled then, a genuine smile that made Murtagh's pulse quicken, and she reached her arms around him in an embrace. He gladly returned the hug, pleased to have her back in his arms, if only for a little while.

Nurélia pulled away asking, "Not that I'm complaining, Murtagh, but why are you here?"

"Thorn and I felt you tap into our shared power and figured there was only one reason why you would. We couldn't have you bring Galbatorix the very beings he would need to claim supreme ruler of Alagaësia, not to mention the last dragon egg—"

"Which gave me quite a surprise when I found it in Blaze's saddlebags," Nurélia cut in. Murtagh smiled.

"So we rushed to intercept, no matter the consequences. Yet when we arrived, we only found Blaze watching over your unconscious body," Murtagh finished. His last sentence was said more like a question for Nurélia to explain what had happened, which she picked up on.

"I did capture Eragon and Saphira," she began, "but Blaze merged their energy with his to free me from my enchantment. When they began forcing their way into my head, I felt that I had to redirect the power to work against them, which then made me no longer able to hold a powerful dragon and her Rider within the spell I had them under, and they escaped." Fear suddenly passed over her face.

"What is it?" Murtagh asked, concerned.

"If you felt the pull of our shared power, then that means Galbatorix did as well. He's going to expect me to return with them. . . . He's going to expect me to return at all, and I have no intention to."

"That was our plan in the beginning."

"I know," she said, apprehension flooding her voice. "But I'm worried what he will do to you when neither his new Rider nor his enemies are before him within a couple of days."

"He told us not to return without them, right?" he said. Nurélia nodded. "So then Thorn and I will stay out of sight for however long it takes…" – his face fell – "or until he calls us back," he finished, his tone slightly dejected.

"Can you stay out of range?" Murtagh shook his head.

"Unfortunately, no. He can reach us anywhere in Alagaësia and Surda."

"So leave Alagaësia! Fly toward the Beors! I can't leave you knowing that monster can control you from his castle no matter where you are!" Nurélia cried out desperately. Murtagh sighed.

"I wish it was that simple. Our forced loyalties prevent us from leaving the Empire – other than Surda. If we attempt to leave, it could prove fatal."

Nurélia rose from the ground and began pacing – most of her energy obviously restored – undoubtedly trying to think of another way for him to be safe but came up empty. Defeated, she slumped next to Murtagh, who was watching her from his place on the ground. She turned to him, her expression almost completely diminished of all hope.

"Blaze and I can't think of anything. I'm sorry." Murtagh gave her a reassuring smile.

"It'll be all right. You just make sure you get that egg to Eragon and Saphira." Nurélia smiled halfheartedly and nodded.

"If they'll even give us a chance to explain," she replied, her voice dripping with doubt. "We really messed up." Blaze sighed deeply in agreement, smoke billowing out his nostrils.

My sister's and my first meeting, and the image she has of me is a traitor. Nurélia frowned in his direction, probably sharing his feeling of regret. His comment made Thorn perk up his head and Murtagh looked at Blaze questioningly.

"Saphira and you are related?"

We share the same dam. I am uncertain if our sire was the same, though, Blaze explained.

Murtagh felt an envious feeling coming from Thorn. Thorn? What is it? he asked him privately.

What? Nothing, he answered, obviously hiding something.

Come on, friend. I know it's something.

I don't want to talk about it, he said with a hint of harshness in his voice, which Murtagh knew meant to back off.

Okay, he replied gently. I'm only concerned, is all.

Well it's nothing to be concerned about.

"Thorn?" Nurélia asked. "Is something wrong?" Murtagh looked over at her. She must have noticed Thorn's discomfiture while they were talking. Thorn's answer was a low growl in Murtagh's direction, and then he leapt into the air. Nurélia turned to Murtagh with her hands on her hips.

"What did you do?" she asked accusingly.

"Nothing. He just doesn't want to talk about it."

Maybe I can talk to him, Blaze suggested. Murtagh shrugged his shoulders.

"I suppose you can try, but he's really stubborn."

So am I, he replied as he took off after Thorn.

… … … … …

Blaze wasn't flying long before he found the sulky red dragon with his wings outstretched, using the current to stay aloft.

What do you want? Thorn asked roughly, not even bothering to look at Blaze.

Can't I just fly around? It wasn't as though I was looking for you or anything, Blaze said. Thorn glanced at him with one big scarlet eye.

You're a terrible liar, he retorted.

Yes, well, I prefer to tell the truth, anyway. I did come after you, but no one sent me. I suggested to come. Murtagh even implied that I was wasting my time. This made Thorn chuckle.

He's right.

Perhaps . . . What's on your mind?

Nothing, he replied nonchalantly.

All right, Blaze said, thinking of a different tactic to get through to him. He told Nurélia what he was up to and closed off their connection. He said to Thorn, Then you won't mind a little aerial combat training. And he barreled over the smaller dragon, his massive back pounding into Thorn's, knocking him off balance and almost out of the sky. Thorn frantically tried to recover while Blaze chuckled at his spastic movements, but his laughter was cut short as the red dragon quickly regained his composure and slithered through the sky like a serpent in water, finally clamping onto Blaze's tail. Blaze let out a roar and swung his tail to his side, bringing the tightly latched on Thorn toward him. Blaze twisted around as Thorn neared and kicked out at him. One of his back limbs connected with Thorn's side, and, even though the smaller dragon groaned in pain, his jaws held firm on their quarry as a pit-bull would while dark red drops of blood trickled into his mouth, nose and eyes.

Blaze had enough. He drew a deep breath and whipped his head around, taking care to aim away from his tail. The bright orange fire that escaped his maw singed Thorn's end and finally made him release Blaze's tail, though now the blood flowed easier without Thorn's teeth blocking its path through the wounds. Blaze shrugged off the pain - it really wasn't that bad after all, but he was thankful Nurélia couldn't feel what he was at the moment - and grinned at Thorn.

What's the matter? Can't stand the heat? Blaze teased.

That wasn't fair; I can't breathe fire for another two months or so.

Oh, that's too bad for you, Blaze said in a mockingly sympathetic tone, and then laughed. Thorn sped after him to which Blaze looped out of the way, twisted around and dove toward – an empty sky? Confused, Blaze halted in mid-air.

Looking for me? He heard Thorn call just before he felt two powerful kicks in his back. Blaze growled and took after him, but Thorn only laughed.

Let us see if you can keep up, old timer, Thorn teased.

After you, hatchling, he retorted.

Thorn smiled showing all of his sharp, ivory teeth, and shot forward twisting, looping, diving, and feinting. However, Blaze was too bulky to follow Thorn's smaller, more lithe form – which Thorn must have realized, because he began to perform more intricate styles and tighter loops. He laughed when he caught Blaze taking a short-cut through one of the forms.

You need to cut back on your intake of food, large one. Otherwise, you won't ever be able to keep up with this 'hatchling', Thorn gloated.

Perhaps, but I'm far faster in a race. I've had more time to strengthen my wings than you.

Well, your wings would have to be strong to keep your massive size in the air; though I'm not too sure they're powerful enough to keep you up and finish before I do, Thorn threw back, laughing.

Blaze smiled slyly at the comment, knowing he could win without any problems. We will see who is laughing at the edge of the forest, he replied calmly, knowing the distance ranged from 15 to 20 leagues, meaning about 45 to 60 miles.

Very true. Although, don't be too disappointed when you hear my laughter from leagues ahead of you, he said and hurled forward in the direction of the forest.

Blaze smiled widely as he watched the red dragon speed off. This is what he lived for! At his fastest, he could cover a league in less than three minutes, and it took hundreds of leagues to tire him out. This race was going to be too easy. He surged after Thorn, his wings slicing through the cool air while the ground blurred beneath him.

The first couple leagues passed by without any sign of the young dragon, but then Blaze saw a little red dot in the sky that was growing bigger and bigger with each beat of his enormous wings. Within a couple of minutes, and before Thorn realized it, Blaze was right behind him, only a little below so Thorn wouldn't see him if he looked back over his shoulder. When Blaze was parallel with him less than a minute later, he flew up to Thorn's eye level, startling him. Thorn faltered for a tenth of a second, but that was all Blaze needed to lurch forward and take the lead. The sudden loss of his place gave Thorn a burst of energy to where he was dead even with the fire-colored dragon. Blaze looked over at him, gave him a huge grin and responded to Thorn's burst of energy with one of his own, leaving Thorn behind.

At the edge of the forest, Blaze landed, gouging four huge holes in the dirt, and waited patiently for Thorn to catch up. He really didn't have to wait too long, but Thorn did seem quite a bit slower than he was when Blaze passed him. Thorn landed gracefully in front of him only seeming slightly out of breath.

All right. I'll admit it. You're definitely faster, Thorn said. His large red eyes scrutinized Blaze. And you don't even look like all those leagues fazed you at all!

Like I said, I've had more practice. Nurélia's grandmother made me practice for hours and over long distances, having me try to beat my best time. She also taught me how to breathe.

What? Thorn asked, puzzled. How to breathe? What do you mean?

There is a certain way to breathe when you fly so that you may cover more distance without tiring so quickly. You are fast, as well, Thorn. You just need to learn how to breathe.

All right, then teach me, Thorn said, eager to learn.

It's very simple, Blaze began. When you raise your wings, breathe in, and then when you bring them down, breathe out.

That's it? Thorn asked incredulously.

I told you it was simple. It makes all the difference, though. Trust me. Thorn nodded his head once in answer. Come, Blaze said. Let us hunt. All that flying made me hungry. Blaze leapt up and flew over the trees of the forest. Thorn shook his head and laughed as he followed him.

… … … … …

Nurélia hummed to herself while she set up camp, realizing that there was a good chance that Blaze and Thorn might be gone for the rest of the day. She was glad she took off his saddle and the saddlebags before he took off after Thorn. What he was planning sounded destructive. Not to mention, everything she would need for camp was in the bags.

Murtagh decided to help, but he soon stopped and watched her instead. She glanced at him after sensing his eyes on her and then ignored him for a few minutes until he started laughing. Her eyebrows met in confusion and she suddenly became self-conscious, though unsure exactly why.

"What?" she asked. He ceased his laughing but an amused smile stayed upon his lips.

"Oh, nothing," he said nonchalantly. She narrowed her eyes at him and tried to ignore him again, but as soon as she turned her back on him, he chuckled to himself. She whirled around to glare at him again.

"What?!" she yelled. Murtagh shrugged his shoulders.

"I've just never met an elf that was tone deaf, that's all," he said, the smile never leaving his face. Nurélia forced back her own smile that was trying to escape. It was an ongoing joke with her grandmother that Nurélia couldn't sing, and she took it in stride. She knew the irony of the situation, seeing as elves sing everything they make. There was no way Nurélia would ever be able to sing anything into, well, anything.

"I'm only part elf," she reminded him, picking up a pot for the vegetable stew she was going to cook for her midday meal.

"And apparently not the part where you can keep a tune," he continued.

"Can you sing?" she threw back. It wiped the smile off his face.

"It depends on the song," he answered unconvincingly.

"If you can't sing any better, then I suggest you keep quiet, unless you want to start something you wouldn't be able to handle," Nurélia threatened, closing the distance between them so she would be close enough to hit him with the pot she still held, yet far enough without him reaching for her.

Murtagh gazed at her, another smile playing on his lips. He forgot how much he enjoyed making her mad. The fire in her eyes brightened their color, while her voice grew low and enticing.

"Really? And who would enforce such an impossible situation? Surely not you," he replied quite arrogantly.

"Don't tempt me," she retorted, her fingers itching to do some magic, making the pot in her hand vibrate ever so slightly. She raced through spells in her head and settled on one to immobilize him so she could smack him upside the head. She knew he was only doing this to irritate her, but it was working no matter how much she tried not to let him get to her.

"Tempt?" Murtagh said with a sly smile and gently lifted the pot from her hand. "Interesting word choice."

Nurélia's breathing quickened. He was so close. Close enough for her to see every fleck of red from the bond with his dragon in his dark, imposing eyes. Close enough to smell his appealing scent of sweet musk, sweat and a hint of earth. Close enough to hear every irregular breath that escaped his slightly open mouth. Her thoughts began to muddle as she took every detail of him in, remembering how much she cared for him before Galbatorix's interference. She wondered if he still felt the same way, though she had a strong suspicion that he did, considering their mere inches apart. And then without another thought, she tasted the salty sweetness of his lips upon hers – along with a jolting shock of energy right after. Murtagh jumped back.

"Ouch!" he cried out, his fingers pressed to his lips. "What was that?"

She had to admit that the kiss was quite a surprise. She barely assessed her feelings for him before he ardently revealed his. But the jolt of energy wasn't as 'shocking' to her as it was to him. Nurélia tightened her lips, her eyes shining with mischief. "Well, I was building my magic for a spell to inflict upon you before you surprised me with your kiss. The shock was merely a reaction from all the pent up energy. It needed an outlet," she said casually and with a shrug of her shoulder. It took a great deal of concentration to keep her expression indifferent when her stomach was still squirming from the gentle touch of his lips.

Murtagh smirked. "Was I really irritating you that much?"

Nurélia narrowed her eyes at him. "You really have to ask?" He laughed.

"Well maybe you shouldn't be such an easy target."

"I'm not," she denied. He raised an eyebrow, and a light blush filled her cheeks. "Not usually, anyway. You just seem to know how to stretch my temper thinner than anyone I've ever met."

"You know what people say about those who are easily bothered by one person in particular," Murtagh said with a roguish glint in his eyes. "And it's especially true about the person causing the annoyance – excluding family, of course. Everyone has at least one family member whom annoys them."

"What do 'people' say?" Nurélia asked cautiously, knowing he was going to reply with something where she would regret asking.

Murtagh casually replied with "Only that your immediate infuriation is because your passion for me – how did you put it? – 'needs an outlet', and given the situation, you can only yell at me instead of doing what you really want to do."

"Really? And what is that?" Nurélia asked with indifference.

"You would rather kiss me."

"Wow! You are so right!"" she exclaimed sarcastically. "That's exactly what I want to do when you're telling me I can't sing to save my life."

"I knew it," he said. She rolled her eyes but couldn't help the smile that spread across her lips. She turned away only to be pulled gently back. "Here," he said. "Let me help you realize how right I am." And then he pulled her into a kiss. Nurélia let herself give in while the pot for her meal lay forgotten on the ground.

… … … … …

When the two dragons both had their fill of the forest game, they stretched out to bask in the sun. Thorn looked over at Blaze; the larger dragon had his eyes closed, reveling in the heat.

Thorn sighed. I'm not very good with sharing feelings, not even with Murtagh. He just usually feels what I'm feeling, so I don't have to talk about it, he finally said. Blaze half-opened one eye to gaze at him for a second and then lazily closed it again. In fact, Thorn continued, it makes me very uncomfortable.

Perhaps it's easier when one has a female Rider, Blaze suggested. I have no troubles expressing myself with Nurélia.

Possibly.

He was silent for a while longer. Blaze didn't mind. He let the smaller dragon gather his thoughts and waited until Thorn was ready to speak, as Blaze knew he would. It was the oldest trick in the books – to act like one wasn't interested and then wait patiently for the other to speak.

When I hatched for Murtagh, Thorn began, all I knew outside of my shell was that he was the one whom I was destined. If I would have known what our destiny implied, I would have fought to stay inside my egg. But you know how it's like when your Rider touches your shell; it's as though a bolt of energy passes through you, and you just know that this person and you will do great things. A few weeks later, I realized the horrible mistake my hatching for Murtagh brought upon our kind, and I knew my actions wouldn't - couldn't - ever be justified.

Blaze knew this wasn't why Thorn was upset earlier but let him continue. It pertained to a deeper issue in which the young dragon was struggling, and perhaps he would feel better if he disclosed his apprehension with someone he knew he could trust: another dragon.

. . . I don't ever want to do half the tasks the Dark King commands of us, and Murtagh struggles with our oaths to him everyday. He is the one that suffers the most, I think. Working under the king and betraying his own brother has taken a great toll on him.

Blaze perked up his head. Who is his brother? Blaze asked, though he had a suspicion.

Thorn's eyes grew wide, and Blaze knew the hatchling had accidentally given him information Murtagh didn't want him and Nurélia to know just yet, if at all.

I can't say. Murtagh would want to tell Nurélia in his own time. I know you would be able to block her from knowing, but I'm sworn to secrecy.

I understand, Blaze said, dropping his head to the warm ground again. I will not pry. I have a strong idea whom he might be, anyway, he added with a smirk, watching Thorn's expression grow even more troubled.

You won't tell Nurélia, will you?

No, and I will even act surprised when he tells us the youngest Dragon Rider is his brother.

How did you guess?

What?! Guess? Blaze said, only teasing that he was offended. How dare you assume I guessed! Dragon's know everything, remember?

Thorn laughed. Oh, yes, of course.

. . . Speaking of Eragon," Blaze persisted gently, hoping the young dragon wouldn't settle into silence again. I presume that my telling of his dragon's and my relation came as a bit of a shock. He figured this was the reason, or at least the start of the reason, why Thorn acted the way he did earlier, considering his reaction when Blaze mentioned it, and he thought it best to withhold Saphira's name. Thorn turned his head to where both of his scarlet eyes were staring piercingly at Blaze, almost in warning. Blaze ignored the stare and continued. It would have surprised me as well, if I didn't already know before Nurélia and I sailed here. I'm terrified with how she will react when I tell her, seeing as how I am now an enemy in her eyes.

Thorn's intense stare mixed with a bit of confusion. She doesn't know?

No, Blaze answered, not unkindly. How could she? It isn't as though we share a telekinetic connection, or anything even remotely similar. The single thing we share is blood, and it might only be half. Thorn softened his stare a little. The only way I even know is because I was told by Nurélia's grandmother, and she was told by none other than my dam herself before she perished under the Galbatorix's hand.

Besides, Blaze continued, it isn't as though we would need a unique bond like those we share with our Riders. Dragons have our own distinct way of contact, don't we?

Thorn shifted his gaze to a tree on Blaze's left, though not really seeing it. Yes, he said after a while, but I have no brethren related by blood.

Is that all you are bothered by? Blaze asked, incredulously. Those intense scarlet eyes stared into him again. Listen, Blaze began, it is true that Saphira and I have a blood connection, but in all honesty, I feel that my bond with you is much stronger. Saphira is a stranger to me, but you, and Murtagh, of course, are my only friends here in this strange new land. I feel as though we are brothers, despite the blood we do not share.

You do? Thorn asked, his tone eager.

Yes, I do. I only wish you could, as well. We are all connected, really, us dragons and our Riders. Nurélia is my Rider, my sister is Saphira, her Rider is Eragon, Eragon and Murtagh are brothers, and Murtagh is your Rider. And, if I'm not mistaken, your Murtagh and my Nurélia are forming their own type of bond, which will make our bond even stronger.

Thorn was silent for a while, letting Blaze's words sink in. That's true. We are all connected, aren't we? he said, elated. The little dragon had only known fear and vengeance from the moment he hatched; this new feeling of acceptance from someone other than his Rider was different and inviting. Blaze thought of him as a brother, not just some expendable partner he was only tolerating for the sake of appearances, as Thorn once thought Blaze perceived him. A weird feeling bubbled in his stomach. He scrounged for words trying to convey the foreign way his body was reacting and could only do so by Murtagh's memories. Thorn was happy, genuinely happy with no restraint. He'd never experienced happiness before, growing up in such a dreary place with a wicked king and his surly dragon. Even Murtagh was sullen most of the time because of their situation, before Nurélia stepped into his life, of course.

We should head back, Blaze said, scooping up from a tree a paw full of some type of fruit he thought Nurélia might enjoy and jumped into the air. It would have been easier to take the entire tree, but he knew Nurélia would frown upon his destroying a life, and especially just for convenience, so he decided against it. Thorn followed him, but instead carried a good sized buck for Murtagh. Blaze eyed the buck hungrily, though he ate only about an hour ago, and hoped that Murtagh would give him half. The small human couldn't eat all of it, right? Or maybe he could just take a few more minutes to hunt for another.

Yeah. He liked that idea.

But, no. It was already getting quite late and Nurélia would grow worried. They'd better leave now.

It took great concentration for Blaze to finally focus. Now, remember what I told you, Blaze said to Thorn. Wings up, inhale—

Wings down, exhale, Thorn finished and shot ahead of him. Blaze let him go, not even trying to catch up to the younger dragon. His thoughts turned to a different and more important matter than which dragon arrived at the camp first, even to call first claim for the rest of the buck Murtagh didn't eat.

He and Nurélia needed to think of a way to persuade Saphira and her Rider to listen to them. Not only that, but to also convince the two where his and Nurélia's allegiance truly belonged. It was going to be difficult, but hopefully they'll give them a chance to explain.

I know this is kind of a filler chapter, but I wanted to portray the brotherly bond between Blaze and Thorn better. Hope it wasn't too much of a bore to read. Chapter Twenty will well make up for it. :)

Nurélia and Blaze meet Eragon and Saphira in the next chapter! Will the two let Nurélia and Blaze explain themselves without conflict? Or will our heroine and her dragon have to take matters to another level?

Review, please!

For my anonymous reviewers:

Lady-Valiant – Thank you! Everyone has an evil side, I say, whether it large, small, or provoked. :)

Kira Vulpes – I'm so so so sorry for the almost seventeen month update and after such an ending to the last chapter! I'll be surprised if anyone comes back to this story. :)

Bandgirlflute – Thanks! I hope you've enjoyed this chapter as well! . . . If you read it, anyway. :)

sacred pools – Thank you so much! I will try to update sooner. :)