Author's note: Listen to 'Kiss The Rain by Yiruma', it's beautiful. It provided me with the inspiration to write this chapter.

Chapter 6 - Under The Stars

It was the last hour before their leave-taking. The sky was beginning to darken, the clouds shrouding the land with a sombre atmosphere. The Riders had disbanded after the gathering and were now on their final preparations. They were expecting to leave at dawn, but the preparations had been swift and their promptness earned them the early hours of twilight. Eragon glimpsed several dragons streak the sky above and among them, he discerned Saphira's shimmering scales.

After fifty years, we return to our home, Eragon murmured to her mentally.

Yes, at last. I sense the longing in you, little one, responded Saphira. Do not worry; the hour to return has come at last.

Eragon smiled. Yes it has.

There were two trips to be made. The ship could only carry so much people and Eragon had deemed it safer that their arrival be in two separate journeys. Standing on the prow of the ship - the very same vessel which carried him and several other elves to Alalea- Eragon gripped the wooden railing. Intricate patterns were engraved delicately throughout the ship's design, running from the rear to the front. With his fingertips, Eragon traced the nearest group of engravings lightly.

Unlike the calmness of the sea, his heart battered wildly against his chest. It sent fierce waves of anticipation and excitement through his entire being. The ship carried heavy memories with it, ones which Eragon seemingly had embedded into his mind. Light-grey flashes of separation, distinct by sentiment, crashed through his memories like an unbidden remembrance. He had not felt the emotion fear for over fifty years, until now. Eragon felt anxiety, fear of seeing the woman he was forever yearning to see. Arya. Just the thought of her sent all kinds of fervent emotions running through his veins. Memories, strong and potent crashed around Eragon's mind; her dark cascading hair, her beautiful face, her piercing emerald eyes – even the tantalizing scent of her skin, fresh pine needles came unbidden to Eragon's senses. His heart gripped him vehemently, like a fearful excitement.

As a light breeze blew gently around him, Eragon inhaled shakily. What was the root of his fear? Excitement mingled with it, but it was fear that dominated his being; a relenting, gripping emotion which embraced him like a tight vine. He was anxious to see Arya. Anxious about what her life was like now, how she had been and how she might have changed. Is she still the same woman Eragon had left over fifty years ago? The same woman he had fallen in love with and still managed to keep loving, even in separation? He could not deny his strong feelings for her, nor could he ever forget that she had been an important person in his life.

But he could not deny the possibility… what if Arya had found someone else?

Ah, Eragon mentally sighed. That was the root of his fear. The dark, overwhelming emotion of apprehension that Arya had found someone else to be with. Although elves were immortal, they could love again, just like humans. It was the same difference really. Not even certain of her current situation, Eragon already harboured resentment and unbidden jealousy at whoever held Arya's heart. Maybe that's why he was anxious. Eragon was trying to prepare himself for the worst. To be ready to accept the fact that Arya may already be happy with another; to accept that without the need or desire to be with her instead. What kind of person would he be if he did not embrace her happiness? He loved her too much for that With Arya, Eragon had already admitted to many things, whether unwanted or not. He knew that her happiness would come first and that he would do anything for her.

And if that meant walking away so she could be with another, would be fine. It would wreck him, hurt his heart, but he knew he would. Why? Because he loved her. And that was enough reason why. Eragon smiled with sadness. He would embed these thoughts in his brain if he could. To remind himself that although he desired… yearned to see Arya, he had to be prepared to see her in any circumstances. As he let his trail of thoughts end, Eragon promised he would keep his smile when he will see her. Because that's all he would be able to offer her.

About him, Eragon examined the Riders moving like silent fathoms in the twilight. In the hazy distance, he observed figures cloaked in silver light under the lines of trees, shimmering like the moonlit waves. The Alalean Elves were watching their departure. It was not a joyous event; they had grown fond of the company of the Riders and even their dragons. So many of the Riders were departing; from their land and from their lives.

Beside him, Eragon heard footsteps. "We are ready, Ebrithil," It was Aráthiel's soft voice.

The ship rocked ever so gently as it left the shores. Eragon briefly turned around and faced the young female elf before him with a solemn smile. "And so, we shall go."

From the shadows of the trees upon the shoreline emerged Celebriän, the Alalean Elves' leader. Like his kin, he was cloaked in the same fashion, but his cowl covered his head and shadows covered his face. His actions seemed to exude the same solemnity as his people. He walked towards the ship and Eragon began to make his way to meet him, only to discern Celebriän raise his hand slightly. His voice was low but the breeze carried it to Eragon, "May fare winds grant you and your Riders a safe journey, Shur'tugal."

"And may good fortune and happiness look upon you and your people, Celebriän," returned Eragon. Under the darkening sky, Eragon thought he saw the Alalean elf smile. Eragon raised his hand and waved. Celebriän returned the gesture and with his keen eyesight, Eragon saw multitude of hands raise in farewell in the distance. A melancholy harmony rose from the land; it was a bittersweet yet uplifting melody which made the heart feel a ghostly grief.

Eragon turned his sight from the shore and into the skies and the sea ahead. The sea was flat and calm, a grey expanse that greeted them. Above, the dragons' flight sounded soft, gently mingling with the silent breeze. All was like a waking dream. . Under the silver moonlight, Eragon thought them to be like ephemeral shadows and figures which wordlessly glided and drifted like leaves upon a silent winter's lake. Aboard the ship with him, there were nineteen Riders. The rest would then soon follow. Eragon hoped that the journey would not take too long. He recalled travelling from Alagaësia to Alalea – it had taken them more than a fortnight's travel. However, with fair winds and a familiar mind he hoped the journey's duration would be halved – but one could only hope. Every moment that passed felt like a striking hammer.

Eragon had not moved from his spot – standing on the prow of the ship, he observed the sea ahead of them. Like a despondent fading dream, there was a poignant melancholy about the air, but Eragon also saw beauty in the moment. It was calm. But the night air began to lift from the seas and Eragon felt the beginnings of a cold night. He did not shiver, although as he exhaled, the air he breathed clouded around him, like a soft grey mist.

Eragon opened his mind slightly and sought the presence of those around him. Behind him, Eragon felt the slightest of movement. He realised Aráthiel had not left her spot either. She seemed to be echoing his movements, like a silent phantom behind him. He felt the other Riders' mind from his transitory exploration and as he extended it further, counted and felt the dragons' mind above. Some were in the water, silently wading. No water creature would dare swim to the surface while the dragons were present.

Satisfied with his observation, Eragon returned to the confines of his own mind. "It is cold, you should go inside," Eragon said, his voice barely a whisper.

With the same volume of voice, Aráthiel replied gently, "I wish to stay here."

Eragon nodded, the slightest tilt of his head acknowledging her response. He did not voice it, but it felt nice to have company. Moments passed.

"Well, if you're going to stay outside, you may as well come enjoy the view beside me," said Eragon, with a hint of a smile in his voice. There were no sounds of footsteps, it seemed as if Aráthiel glided over the wooden boards and stood next to him. He faced her and Eragon was struck by the moonlight's glow on her face. Aráthiel was truly beautiful. Her dark blue eyes gleamed like soft sapphires and they met Eragon's with an unwavering gaze. He smiled softly and in a jesting tone, Eragon murmured, "Has anyone ever told you about your piercing stares, Aráthiel?"

Surprising him, Aráthiel laughed, a gentle and short melodious laugh that floated softly in the night, "You would be the first, Ebrithil."

Keeping his smile, he insisted, "Eragon."

Returning it, Aráthiel repeated, "You would be the first... Eragon."

"They are wonderful, they could be your secret weapons. You need only to gaze upon men and they would be enthralled," Eragon continued. He felt momentarily joyous, talking with the young female elf. They were friends and he felt care-free, to act normally as himself. Eragon thought he saw a blush creep up to Aráthiel's cheeks and she tilted her head down slightly, as if embarrassed by his comment. Her dark straight hair fell forward and covered the side of her face momentarily. Eragon glimpsed the sea ahead of him as well, distracting himself. He knew not why he started the conversation in what could be discerned as a flirtatious manner. But he did not mean so.

Ah, who am I fooling? Eragon scoffed to himself. Perhaps he held an inkling of attraction towards Aráthiel. It was not much, but it was enough for Eragon to realize. He liked Aráthiel, but he loved Arya. And there, lied the truth.

There was no confusion about it, no uncertainty. However, he knew that if his heart had not already belonged to Arya, he might've developed feelings for the young female elf beside him. Deliberating this, Eragon felt slightly terrible for his wayward actions. Aráthiel certainly did not deserve them and he had no grounds to lead her on a realization she would not be happy with. Nevertheless, he wished they would remain friends for he enjoyed her company. Eragon could always feel like he could be himself around her and not fear for facades or formalities. It was the beginning of a great friendship and he did not wish to let it go.

Sensing the presence of strange water creatures, Eragon stepped closer to the edge and discerned grey, sharp-nosed water creatures hopping the silent waters. The creatures themselves, however, were not so silent. As they emerged from the water and sensed his presence the creatures squeaked. There were four of them, swimming in a two by two formation as they sped along the ship. Eragon recalled their names in a book he had read somewhere a long time ago. Dolphins.

As they gave another high-pitched squeak, Eragon laughed. He looked over his shoulder to find Aráthiel appearing surprised. "Come look," Eragon gestured to her, smiling.

Seemingly affected by his enthusiasm, Aráthiel stepped towards the ship's prow and leaned over. The dolphins were still skipping the waters and they seemed joyous doing so. She let out an incoherent exclaim of surprise and smiled widely, "They're lovely creatures," she commented. She seemed enthralled by the moment and Eragon thought she looked serenly beautiful in the light. He smiled slightly and wondered at his captivation. Maybe it was the moonlit moment that sparked such thoughts. Uncertainty mingled with confusion but Eragon soon stopped delving into the situation and just preoccupied himself with the present.

Enjoying the night and enthused by the wonders of the dolphins, Eragon and Aráthiel remained at the prow of the ship, silently observing the water creatures until late into the starry night. Eragon laughed as the creatures jumped as high as the railings and managed to spray water at them. The seemingly sombre atmosphere that had shrouded the ship during the early hours of their departure had seemed to have disappeared. Instead, it had turned into a silent night filled with smiles and small talk between two friends.

It was about a few hours before sunrise when Eragon and Aráthiel chose to finally retire to sleep. As his time with the young female elf ended, Eragon thought that he had enjoyed himself. He valued her company greatly. However, he only hoped that their friendship would remain strong when they reach Alagaësia.

Because by the end of the night, it was not Aráthiel who held his heart, it was still Arya.