Six Years Later…

The chanting of dragons had become something like music to my ears, the cacophony of little hatchlings and fully matured dragons melding together to fill our home with sound. They nested far and wide, always under the careful watch of myself, Arya, Eragon, Brom and Oromis to ensure all were in harmony with one another. In so many years, a great deal had changed. New Riders were beginning to emerge, dragons hatching for them as I flew eggs back and forth between all the races so that we had a rather varied selection of each.

Thus far we had three humans, five elves, two Urgals and another three dwarves. Of course, with the new additions to the Dragon's Oath, some of our teaching methods had to be altered to better suit their styles and sizes, but it was a simple task in itself. Over these past six years, we had lately finished building the fine monument that was the Rider's home, an impressive citadel of white stone with gold and silver drapes which hung from the open windows which allowed light and warmth to constantly flood in doors.

It was built in the image of the sanctuary I had created for Murtagh and Thorn, with giant landing platforms and massive halls, even Saphira was able to walk inside freely. I had sung the stones and rocks into shape with the help of the elves, building the rest by hand. The cliffs held various caves which led up to the citadel, where many of the wild dragons nested and dove into the ocean to catch their food. Others preferred the mountain caves, and others still the forests. All in all our work here was a success, and as I stood gazing out towards the ocean, I contemplated all that had led me to this moment.

I was now a Master Rider, teaching the students the complexities of magic, whilst Arya specialised in the area of combat. Oromis taught history and literature, whilst Eragon taught dragon care and flight tactics. There were many other subjects as well, diplomacy, culture, languages, mathematics, astronomy, crafting…a great deal for our students. In order to teach all such things, we had accepted tutors from all races to come to dwell with us here on Du Stenr Gëdwey, the Shining Stone, as we had taking to call it.

With harmony existing between all four races, we learned to coexist and provide hope and example for those in Alagaësia. The dwarves taught their craft and fashioned armour for the new dragons, though we hoped to not have need of them for a long time. The elves, two of which had been the apprentices of Rhünon, continued her work in maintaining the care of the Rider swords so that they would later be given to Riders after they had completed their training, or refashioned should they not suit their fighting style as Arya's had.

Above I saw a bright glint of amethyst shining in the light of the setting sky, bringing a smile to my lips as my daughter Elva flew upon her dragon, Crysali. Elva had grown into a very beautiful child, though only seven years of age. She possessed the beauty of the elves and a little of their pride too, in some cases. The magic that had possessed her body had continued to make her grow beyond her years, but I was pleased to see that it had slowed somewhat, so now she looked to be only nine or ten years of age. I hoped that she will now grow at a normal rate, and that she continues to use her gifts for the good of others as she had done these past years.

Dipping her wings towards me, Crysali roared in greeting and I felt their minds touch against mine so I lifted my hand, the black cloak sliding down my arm as I gestured to them in greeting, watching as they then flew off towards the mountains to train together. Observing the sunset a little while longer, I sensed my sister approach me quietly, having landed behind me upon Fírnen who took off again almost instantly. "Anurin, you come here every morning and evening to watch the sunrise and sunset, but it is not the sky itself you are looking for."

"No, indeed not." I agreed with a soft hum, keeping my gaze trained on the sky as Arya joined me.

"He may not ever come."

"I know."

"But still you wait."

"Yes." Sighing with slight irritation, Arya placed her hand upon my shoulder, understanding my feelings but still found them difficult to comprehend. Each and every day I stood here, hoping to see Thorn flying towards us carrying Murtagh upon his back, and every day for the past six years I had turned away disappointed.

"You should not waste your time, sister of mine heart. He has been missing for six years now and none of us have ever been able to find him. If he cared about you at all, he would have returned by now." A part of me knew that this was true, but I still could not help myself. I continued to hold onto hope that Murtagh would finally find peace with himself in order to return to those who cared with him with nothing but openness and readiness to begin anew, but no word of him had been hurt since I had departed those shores. "Will you wait for him forever?"

"My life has already moved on, Arya, I merely glance back now and then." Drawing in the cool loom of the evening, I smiled as the first flickers of stars began to spark into life. "I do not hang upon the hopes that he will come for me, for such a thing is petty and the mere notion is ridiculous. I have managed perfectly well without him, and will continue to do so, however…I cannot help but remember what I had with him, as it is exactly what you share with Eragon now." Flinching a little, Arya nudged me gently and shared her mind with me for comfort.

"I see. So, I was right then. A brother for each sister."

"Indeed." Chuckling softly, I took Arya's hand to turn away and walk from the outermost platform which hung over the cliff tops, jutting over the ocean as the waves crashed against the rocks below. It was pleasant enough to watch the sun fall below the horizon each night, and each night I would walk away telling myself that I would simply give up and not return tomorrow, no matter how sternly I would order myself not to go, each and every time I would go back in the morning and watch the sun rise in the east.

The mornings were always more pleasant as they were quieter, the gentle hush of the morn falling over the citadel. Since the platform looked to the west, I went to the highest tower and stood facing the east as the lightweight drapes flowed upon the salted breeze. Closing my eyes after staring into the void sky for a while, I listened to the rhythmic wash of the waves as I stood upon the open balcony, surrounding myself in the familiar scents and sounds of my surroundings, the occasional yawn of a dragon sounding as they began to rouse themselves from sleep. This truly was a sanctuary, I was finally at peace and without the constant pressure of duty and the threat of war looming over me, I was able to find solace in my work raising the dragon hatchlings and teaching the new Riders.

A crash of waves boomed from far below, a particularly fierce wave crashing against the side of the cliff before it then settled into a rhythmic lull, a distant drumming sounding from the deep. The sound gradually grew louder and held more clarity, prompting me to realise that they were not waves but wing beats, the wings of a dragon. Inhaling gradually as I opened my eyes, the bright crimson scales of iridescent rubies came into focus. Wine red wings flapped against the air, drawing backwards in order to angle the serpentine body as not to collide with the tower room, allowing the Rider to leap down and land upon the balcony a few feet from me.

As my head turned to follow the movement, the red dragon gave a warm growl before flying away, leaving me with his Rider, whom I could scarce believe was standing before me. "Murtagh." My voice was a hoarse whisper, staring in unhidden surprise. He looked older, having shed all indication of youth and stood before me a fully matured man of humans now in the fullness of his prime. The longish black mane of hair was pulled back into a knot at the back of his head with a neatly trimmed arrangement of stubble adorning his jaw and upper lips.

His masculine handsomeness immediately sent my heart aflutter as intense eyes of deep mahogany black looked back, softened and tempered from years of contemplation. He was here. Finally, he had returned to me.

"Anurin." Closing my eyes to surround myself in the sound of his voice, I listened and felt as he came towards me with all the gentleness of a doe, his warrior hands rising to settle either side of my face and brush away the beginnings of a tear which had formed with his thumb. My heart continued to thunder in my chest as I stood before him, forcing my eyes to open so that I could behold him before me, neither dream nor illusion, but real.

"Eka hàvr kausta wiol ono."

I have come for you.

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