Disclaimer: I do not own the Inheritance Cycle or any of its characters (duh).

About the rating: K+ except for some battle scenes. I did not want to rate it T because there isn't any particularly strong language or adult themes.

I was quiet, staring up at the enormous pines that made up the forest around us.

Neither of us said anything. We didn't need to.

"Promise you'll visit?" Eragon asked at last.

"Of course, you nimrod! Just...um...how will we contact each other, anyways?" I said. I hadn't really thought about this. Alagaësia wasn't the sort of place you could send mail to, not from Earth.

"I think Arya and Oromis put something together...they called it 'Sending Stones'."

"Sounds promising," I said, trying for both our benefits to smile. It probably looked more like a grimace, but it's the thought that counts, right?

"How's Brom doing?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

Eragon sighed. "Better and better. Blödhgarm says that he should regain full use of his arm in time."

"And what will he be doing now that Galbatorix is dead? That was pretty much his life..."

"As it was mine," Eragon admitted. "He said he would come with me to look after the dragon eggs, even when I told him there would likely be no return."

"Geez, Eragon! You're setting way too much in store by the prophecy!" I scolded him. We had breached this topic before, but he still seemed determined that it was his destiny to never see his friends again. "I mean, it could very well mean that you leave Alagaësia, then return, then leave, then return, etc. Then, you leave and die, thus completing the prophecy. Or it could just mean that at some point in the future, you will die. That's a type of leaving."

Eragon just gave me a blank look.

"Fine. Have it your way. I still highly recommend Vroengard as your Rider HQ, though."

"But those people with the lanterns-"

"You don't even know if they are people! They could be an illusion! They could be anthropomorphic frogs with glowing butts! Talk to them! Ask if it's alright to rebuild the city and introduce dragons to the ecosystem! Offer to get rid of the burrow grubs in return for half of the island! Do something besides going off into the blue and leaving Arya and Murtagh and everyone you care about behind!" My voice softened. "You're already going to lose me, Eragon. Don't lose everyone else, too."

He was silent for a moment, gazing around us at the towering trees of Du Weldenvarden. "I'll talk to Brom and Oromis about it."

"Good," I growled. "Now, then. We were having a pleasant talk about something...?"

"Have you seen Murtagh recently?"

"Hmm. A much better topic of conversation. Yes, I have, in fact. He's still gushing over his new dragon, Thorn."

"You managed to wring more out of him than I, that's for certain. I asked him if he needed me to heal his broken arm and he merely grunted and went back to feeding his dragon. You actually got a name out of him."

"That's because Murtagh always liked me best," I purred.

Eragon laughed. "If he wasn't starry-eyed over Nasuada, I'm sure you'd have him wrapped around your little finger by now."

"Ah, if only. Instead, I got you," I sighed playfully.

"Wha-Me?! I'm not-"

"Ha! It's okay, I know you're still composing poetry for Arya at night."

"How did you-"

"It's amazing what you can learn when you're friends with Saphira," I said cheerfully.

"She-" Eragon's pointy ears were turning red. "She told you?!"

I burst out laughing. "No, she told Brom who told Blödhgarm who told Arya who told me."

"They-I'll murder them all! I'll be the first person to create a spell that successfully raises the dead, then murder them again! That was private!"

"I thought it was quite good," I said seriously. "I think you should finish the one with the sparrows and then send it to her after you've been away for a few weeks. She'll cave right in and throw herself all over you. Mind, she'll have already heard it from Blödhgarm, so..." It was very amusing to watch Eragon's face change colors so quickly.

"A pox on all elves and storytellers!" he cried. "Excuse me, I need to have a word with my father. And Saphira. And Blödhgarm. And then die."

"Have fun!" I called after him. I laughed, then continued my walk back to Ellesméra.

"You will come help us move the dragon eggs and Eldunarí?" asked Arya that night.

I could tell that it was more of a command than a question, but I nodded. "Wouldn't miss it for anything." I could easily forgive Arya. She was so stressed all the time now, what with a country to rebuild and another to rule and get straightened out after a war.

I didn't want to leave. I missed my family and friends back on Earth, but it was unbearable to think that I'd never see these people again. The portal spell that Eragon and Oromis had been working on was finished at last, and anytime I wanted to leave, I could just ask. It took very large quantities of energy, but with the Eldunarí, it shouldn't be a problem.

Shouldn't be.

My problem was different: I didn't want to leave. I wanted to stay with Eragon and Arya and Murtagh and Brom and Nasuada and Angela and Solembum and Saphira and Glaedr and Thorn and Fírnen in a world of magic and swords and dragons. I wanted to stay and badger Eragon about setting up a two-way permanent portal between Vroengard (still think he should go there) and Du Weldenvarden. I wanted to help raise dragons and maybe...maybe maybe maybe maybe become a Dragon Rider. It would be an infinitely better life than going to a boring mortal school and learning about geometry and other things that are completely useless when you're stranded in the middle of a forest. Oh, sure, they'll say things like you'll never be dropped into the woods with no survival gear! Be reasonable! DON'T BELIEVE THEM! It happened to me.

I was sitting in bed, reading Eragon.

Then I wasn't. I was lying on my stomach in a crater in a forest in a mountain range in Alagaësia in another universe. With my iPad (for some reason), which I had been using to read Eragon before I fell into this crazy world. Then things got complicated, and before I knew it, I was entangled in the Inheritance Cycle plot, changing things left, right, and center because I figured, WTH not? Murtagh gets a crappy destiny and everyone hates him except like three people. Brom dies. Oromis dies. Glaedr dies (sorta...). Elva is cursed with a horrible "blessing" forever. And Eragon, Saphira, Blödhgarm, and a few others leave Alagaësia and never return. NO ONE GETS A HAPPY ENDING! I fixed that...well, most of it. I nearly killed us all when I saved Murtagh from being captured, and Ajihad still died, just in a later battle. But that's all another story, for another time.

Where was I again? Oh, yes, the feast.

I thought of it as a feast, although the elves considered it a typical supper after a good day's work. It was outdoors, and the weather was perfect. Warm, no bugs, with every single star and their grandmother twinkling down at us. Long, fancy tables of a sort that you usually picture in great halls of kings and queens. These were laden with dishes of every shape, size, color, smell, and taste know to man, elf, dwarf, Urgal, dragon, Ra'zac, Shade, spirit, and who knows what else. And yet, no meat.

There was also faelnirv aplenty for everyone, even the four dragons present. Oromis was concerned that Saphira was becoming an alcoholic, but Eragon (now with several drinks in him) said that she was fine and well and could eat...what were they talking about?

I politely declined all faelnirv passed to me after the first glass.

Murtagh had somehow been pulled out of the shadows of his room at Tialdarí Hall and was talking to Brom about something, the watchful Thorn perched in his shoulder. It made me glow with happiness to see Thorn being raised properly in this alternate world.

I pulled my attention back to Arya. "What did you and Oromis make that has Eragon all excited?"

"Sending Stones. They are simple slates with two unique properties: what is written on one will be written on the other, and they both shake slightly when new symbols are added."

I laughed. "Brilliant! It's just like sending a text!"

Arya was puzzled. "Is this something from your world?"

"Yes. Suffice to say that it is a very similar idea. Will the spell hold if one stone is in another world?"

"It will. Oromis showed me the portal spell he and Eragon designed, and the enchantments should remain no matter what is put between the slates."

"That can't have been easy."

"It was not. Oromis and I drew most of our research from the link between dragon and Eldunarí."

"One slate coughed up a-? Never mind."

Arya smiled and served herself another glass of faelnirv. I picked out a dragon spun from sugar and cream. I studied it, decided I would feel guilty eating it, and reached across the table to offer it to Thorn. The tiny dragon sniffed it, sneezed, and snapped up the figure with a chirp of pleasure.

"Watch it," said Murtagh. "He'll eat anything, then regurgitate whatever his stomach disagrees with on my rug at night."

"Oh? What did you feed him?"

He stroked Thorn's chest and said, "Now, keep in mind, the elves didn't have any meat on hand..."

The dragon hiccuped a few sparks, which floated down onto the table and set Arya's napkin ablaze.

"Again? This is the third time tonight!" she snapped, glaring at Thorn. She waved a hand and the fire vanished.

"Sorry. He's been drinking out of your glass all supper. Alcohol does this to him."

Arya pushed her goblet of faelnirv as far away as possible, now glaring at Thorn's Rider.

I made a hasty excuse and retreated farther down the table to where Eragon was describing Sapphira's bone structure to a fascinated elf I'd never seen before. I slid into a vacant seat next to the Rider. "Where's Saph-never mind, I can see Fírnen's gone too."

Eragon smiled somewhat ruefully. "I'm just happy they left the table instead of-"

"Yes, wereallygetthepicturethanks," I said hastily.

The elf, who Eragon introduced as Nathír, began to tell us about his time in Ûru'baen amongst the Varden troops, and in return we told him about what had occurred in Galbatorix's throne room. Brom joined us when the conversation turned to Vroengard and the old Riders. As the meal wore on, I started saying less, hearing less, thinking about how soon I would be leaving. As I mentioned before, I didn't want to. If it weren't for my friends, family, and the internet, I would leave all of the technology and advancement of Earth behind for Alagaësia.

Except.

There was my family to consider. And all the friends I had. All of them must think that I had left them forever. It had been a year now. They probably thought I was dead. Unless, of course, one of those stupid "And no time had passed on Earth!" things happened-or worse, "It had all been a dream." Those terrible endings were just behind "They all died the end" in Syri's Book of Awful Story Endings.

I smiled as I recalled how the name Syri came about.

"No," I whispered, uncertain. "I...this..." I whipped my head around to stare desperately at the boy with the drawn bow. He was nervous. Scared of me, most likely. "What's your name?" I asked him, dreading the answer. "Is it...Eragon?"

He shifted uncomfortably, raising the bow an inch higher. "How do you know my name?"

My mind was reeling too fast, too much, to answer. I could not possibly be in Alagaësia, despite the crater, the forest, the blue egg, and the boy named Eragon. It just...didn't happen. Then I realized what was going on, and a smile of relief crossed my face.

"Ah. I'm dreaming, then."

Eragon looked at me curiously. "If you are dreaming, then we are having the same dream. But I do not think we are...I have never had a dream so real before." He hesitated, then lowered the bow, keeping the arrow knocked. "And what is your name?"

I bit my lip. "Sarah" seemed slightly out of place with this fantasy dream. I glanced down, surprised to find myself still holding my iPad. What a strange dream. My mouth blurted out "Syri," like that voice thing on my tablet, just with the "i" switched to a "y". I didn't mean for that to come out, it just happened.

Too late to change it. The name stuck.

And now, no one here had ever heard the name Sarah. I'd almost forgotten it myself, after hearing Syri directed at me so many times...a laughing protest as I made a joke at someone's expense..a cry of fear as I fell to the muddy ground, a knife in my back...introductions to some of the most powerful people in this world...It was hard to let the name go. It had become part of me, and in some weird way, I had become a part of it.

Plus, you know, whenever someone says, "Syri, where's the nearest town?" or whatever, I burst out laughing.