The telltale creak of a ship at sea, and the gentle rolling of the waves. The slight smell of salt in the wind.

I made it.

Eragon opened his eyes slowly, and examined his surroundings. He was in the cabin of a skillfully made ship, clearly of elven make. Rubbing his head tiredly, he cracked a small smile, thankful of what had happened. He wasn't happy, but he was content.

"Eragon?" questioned a worried voice.

The dragon rider turned around and found that Arya was standing by the doorway, concern etched on her features.

"The weight that has been on my heart for ten hellish years is gone, Arya." Eragon laughed slightly. "The Vault, that damned Vault… I destroyed it, and I savored every moment doing so!"

"Eragon." The elf kneeled down by his bed. "Please explain to me what is going on. Your message simply told me to take your unconscious body and sail west; but there are many unanswered questions. Many people disagreed with even bringing you to the docks."

"It is simple." Lying back down on the bed, Eragon sighed. "The cause behind this hasty departure is because of the disrupt in balance that I have caused. With my own hands, I killed the Vault of Souls; the act of doing such would not cause just ripples in the world of magic and spell work. Putting it in simple words, I have created a maelstrom of unbalance… with me as the center. It would be calamitous for everyone; I shudder to even think about what would happen if I stayed in Alagaesia. Beasts would go wild, storms and floods would appear without warning, and droughts would be seen everywhere. People would die by the thousands."

"So knowing beforehand on what would happen, you decided to leave Alagaesia to lessen the unbalance?"

The rider yawned. "Correct."

"For how long then?"

"I can't guess." Replied Eragon. That wasn't true, however. The rider had an inkling on what the answer to the question was. Like every single time… I hope you're wrong, Angela.

Eragon started as he remember something important that he forgot. Reaching into his clothes, he pulled out another small scroll. "Arya?"

"Yes, Eragon?"

"Give this to my apprentices if you see them. They'll be overjoyed to know that I'm still alive."

Arya took the scroll and put it gently in one of her pouches. "But… how did you survive?"

Eragon ran a hand through his hair thoughtfully. "Do you have the sword with you? Or is it somewhere on this ship?"

The elf nodded and reached out to the left of his bed, unsheathing the magnificent white sword. Thin wisps of vapor seemed to rise from the metal blade.

"This sword… referred to as the 'White Key' by the riders of old, is not a thing comparable to any blade that has ever existed in Alagaesia." Eragon took the sword gently from Arya's hands and touched it slightly with his finger. "Unlike common blades, it has a hidden magical might of its own. A pure power that could destroy almost anything the wielder wished, if the person had the skill to do so."

"Then how did—"

"The reason that I'm still alive?" Eragon grinned weakly. "Another bet of mine that I put everything on. The Key is a magical item created to destroy the Vault; I assumed that it would do nothing to its keeper."

Arya stared at the Shadow Rider in disbelief. "You risked your life on that little hunch?"

"No." said Eragon defensively. "It came from many scraps of knowledge and pieces of long forgotten lore that I've gathered throughout these ten years. Much more reliable than any guess one can make."

"But a guess never the less." Replied Arya in a hard tone.

Eragon grinned uneasily. "What's done is done. And they've turned out to be in my favor, in the end." Bringing a few strands of his hair before his eyes, he furrowed his brows in surprise. "Silver?"

"The crimson started to fade once we started our voyage, Eragon." Explained Arya. "Your eyes as well."

The Shadow Rider scratched his head thoughtfully. "How are the others?" he asked.

The elf smiled. "You should see for yourself, Eragon. Come outside." With that, she stood up with grace and left the small room. Eragon followed hesitantly.

"Oh, and Shur'tugal? Alalea has been sighted in the distance. It won't be long, now."

Eragon nodded and increased his pace.

The ship was much larger than what the rider had expected. It seemed as if it was built to accommodate several hundred people at the least, which made no sense to Eragon.

"Surprised by the size?" asked Arya, without looking back.

"Aye." Eragon replied, looking around curiously.

"This ship was one of the ten that brought the elves to Alagaesia. It has been preserved well with both magic and skill."

"Indeed. But why choose this one? A simple human made vessel will suffice for what I had in mind." Eragon examined the carved markings on the wood. "It seems a bit… too much."

"A few others wished to come along as well." Replied Arya simply.

Eragon stopped in his tracks, feeling several familiar presences. It finally struck him why Arya had prepared a ship of such massiveness.

"Ah." He said in realization.

Sapphire. Ruby. Emerald. The dragons had assembled on the deck of the ship, waiting for him. Murtagh and Vanir were talking, serious expressions on their faces. Roran was staring at the distant horizon, a look of fatigue in his eyes. But once Eragon stepped in with Arya, all ceased what they were doing and turned their gazes at the pair.

Little one. Said Saphira softly.

Roran embraced him and patted him on the back. Looking into each other's eyes, no words were needed. The emotions flowed freely.

Murtagh smiled broadly. "I can't believe that you're still alive, Eragon. After all you've gone through… it puts my own death-defying acts to shame."

Eragon laughed. "I cannot quite believe it either. But I'm still here, and that is all that matters."

"Indeed." Vanir nodded and stepped forward. "But we need to talk about more pressing matters, Shur'tugal." The elf looked straight into Eragon's eyes, and in a harsh whisper, he said, "Murtagh-vodhr has already explained to me what is happening, based on his knowledge of the Vault… is it true that you will have to leave Alagaesia forever?"

Eragon nodded grimly. "He is most likely correct. But don't tell the others." He sighed heavily. "They have more than enough to worry about." He stroked his dragon's neck tenderly, knowing that Saphira was listening to every word being said.

Vanir furrowed his brow. "What? The war is over. Things will finally be—"

"You are not taking into account the death of the elven queen, the passing of

Nasuada, and the chaos that will occur once the Empire truly falls." Eragon replied. "Peace will be the last thing that will come."

Blood left the elf's face. "The elven queen… are you entirely certain?"

"I am." Whispered Eragon sadly. "Another thing not to tell the princess, if you don't mind. She has too many things in mind at the moment; and it is best if she finds out by herself." He tried not to look back Arya, who was standing behind him, talking to Murtagh and Roran.

Vanir tilted his head in a small nod. "I agree." Looking over to the edge of the ship, the elf grunted in surprise. "We've arrived."

Eragon let out a breath and walked to the front of the vessel. The ship was currently going up a wide river; oars had come out of its sides, and it was heading upstream without much effort.

"Ready the horses." Ordered Arya. Several elves bowed and went into the interior of the ship. Eragon turned around in surprise.

"Horses?" he asked.

"We are not allowed to set foot on the lands in the west, being banished for more than a thousand years." Answered Arya. "The only place that elves are able to walk freely is Harokin, the port of the setting sun, which once was land of our own. But if we wish to go further with you…" she gestured to the animals being brought onto the deck.

Eragon chuckled. "A loophole you found?"

"Yes. But we are walking on thin ice as it is." Replied the elf. "Mount one. We will be leaving this ship shortly."

The Shadow Rider complied and chose a white mare. It reminded him of Snowfire. With Murtagh, Vanir and Roran behind him, he followed Arya down the ship and into the long deserted port. Nothing existed anymore that suggested civilization; and Eragon was not surprised. Several elves rode off the ship as well, holding long lances.

"We will accompany you for a short time." Said Arya in a soft voice. "Then, we will return to Alagaesia. We have many matters to attend to."

She still doesn't know what the worst will be, though Eragon, hands tightening on the reins.

The trip was done in silence. They surveyed the lands around the port, riding their horses. The three dragons followed them slowly. All was quiet except the occasional strike of hoof against stone. No one wanted to break the uneasiness, as they were all lost in their own worlds, thinking. The accompanying elven soldiers did not talk either.

A pity, mused Eragon. Here I am, possibly in my final moments I can spend with my friends, and yet we do not talk at all. Even Saphira is silent.

At last, they once again gathered in front of the ship. The heavy silence was still there. Ironically, the lack of words probably told more than what words would ever tell.

"So, I guess this is time to say farewell." Said Murtagh, in a cracked voice. Thorn bowed his head.

"Indeed. The stars watch over you, Eragon Shadeslayer." Vanir was the second speak. His words were trembling.

Roran clasped his hand in his and said nothing. Eragon smiled. "I'll see you in a few years, cousin."

Roran laughed. "You were always a terrible liar." His eyes were glistening with tears. "Don't try to fool me when you're a fool yourself."

Eragon raised his eyebrows. "I'll keep that in mind."

Turning to Arya, he could no longer keep the grin on his face. He merely bowed down, as if in respect. Arya did so in return.

"I hope I'll be seeing you soon, Arya Svit-Kona." Said Eragon lightly.

"Likewise." Was the quiet reply.

Eragon looked away. Not because he was already on the verge of tears, but because he was certain that Arya was too. She must have realized that the "I can't guess" he said earlier was a complete lie. I seem to be horrible at lying, he thought bitterly.

Finally, he turned to Saphira. Unlike the others, she was strangely calm, as if she had just made an important decision.

Eragon cleared his throat. "Saphira—"

The dragon looked at him straight in the eye. What are you doing, Eragon?

Eragon blinked. What? He asked, uncertain.

Surely you don't intend to say farewell to me as well? Or do you?

Eragon's eyes widened. Saphira—

Don't you dare go on without me. I've already lost you for ten years. I'm not losing you forever. Behind those words was an iron-hard edge that the Shadow Rider had never heard before.

Arya looked closely at the two. "She wants to stay, doesn't she?"

"She does." Replied Eragon, frustrated.

"Then let her. She needs you, and you need her more than you think." Arya put an arm on Eragon's shoulder. "People who have been destined to stay together will never be apart for long."

Eragon smiled. "I know. Very well then. Saphira will stay with me."

"Then we shall leave for now. Good luck, Eragon." With those parting words, the small group bowed once again, and started to board the ship. Thorn and the green dragon spread their wings and took flight, scales shimmering under the shining moon.

Arya seemed to be trembling, and Murtagh held onto her arm, comforting her. Vanir walked behind them, a hood covering his head. Roran looked one last time at his cousin before following the others as well.

The ship glided gracefully down the river, not making any sound, nor making any ripple. Without the aid of oars or wind, it gradually faded out of sight, and into the mist.

Eragon threw back his head and let out a loud, aching cry.

-----------------------

Over the seas, in the land of Alagaesia, a werecat looked to the west and bowed its head down in sorrow.

"I am sorry, Shadeslayer. It was the only way. The only way to rid the land of the evil that has plagued the land for so long."

It turned around, and returned to the tent that his companion had set up.

FIN

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Eragon, hard cover. Page 81. That's the scene.

You know what? I was crying when I was writing this chapter. Not because I was touched, but because this chapter was frikin' hard to write.

Anyway, this is the end of the story, Shadow Rider. More than half a year ago, I started this story; and though I am not completely satisfied with the results, I still thank every reviewer, and every reader that has read my story.

Stay tuned for my next story: Night of the Falling Stars. It will be better than this one, I'm sure.

I thank you all once again. bows