5

Eragon arrived early to the meeting with Alegaësia's leaders. He wanted to give a good impression of a polite and welcoming host. Of course, they all already knew him, they were his friends, but it had been a long time without seeing any of them in person, and they had never seen him in this position before, the Head Rider leading a meeting. He wanted to show them he had grown, he was wiser and fit for the job as the Head Rider.

He stood in the huge chamber that was the conference room, large enough to fit about ten full-grown dragons. Less, if they were bigger than Saphira. Eragon had his hand on Saphira's neck while they waited for the others in silence. It was very early in the morning, for they decided to meet before the first activities for the day. The sword fighting was scheduled to start the competitions of the day, and it promised to be quite an event.

Light footsteps approached down the hall and he already knew who was coming. Only her, out of the leaders he was expecting, could be so smooth in her movements at the same time as being followed by the pounding sound that was a dragon stepping on stone. A little smile appeared on his face and his heart started to beat faster. Saphira spared him an accomplice look.

With the formal greeting of the elves, Ästrith welcomed her queen and let her and Fírnen enter the room, staying outside. As Arya walked through the door, her aroma of crushed pine needles was rushed in the place toward him.

Eragon then walked to greet her, his two first fingers of the right hand on his lips.

"Atra esterní ono thelduin, Arya Dröttning."

"Atra du evarínya ono varda, Eragon Shadeslayer."

He did the same to Fírnen, who answered inside his mind.

Eragon walked to the big oaken, rectangular table and pulled her a chair on one end of it. Arya smiled at him and after a brief pause sat on the chair he had offered her. For a moment he thought she would refuse.

He sat by her right side, while Fírnen joined Saphira behind Arya.

"Orik questioned me yesterday about our greetings. He seemed confused with the fact that I greeted you first when I arrived, but later that day you did it first," she said with an amused expression.

He smiled.

"What did you answer?"

"That I greeted you as your guest and a subordinate Rider before her superior. And after that you chose to honor me, acknowledging my royal title and age."

"I don't think this explanation soothed his confusion or did it?"

Arya let out a small laugh.

"It did not. He said he wouldn't know who was supposed to start if he were one of us."

"Well, I always think I'm supposed to go first, so it makes everything easier."

"You are a big authority now, Eragon. You don't have to say it first all the time."

"Still, I think I owe you all the respect."

She nodded, accepting his complementary words.

The door opened again, and this time Nasuada came in. Eragon stood up fast and bent his head forward, with his fist twisted over his sternum.

"Your majesty, welcome."

"Thank you, Eragon. Arya." She moved her head to the Elven Queen and took a seat on the other end of the table, as Eragon pulled the chair for her.

They didn't have to wait too long, since Orik, Orrin and Garzhog arrived soon after her. They all sat around the table, and Eragon suddenly felt like an outsider. All of them were royalty in their specific way, if not by blood then by the people's choice. He, on the other hand, was a low born, who didn't choose to lead but had to do it nonetheless, because if he didn't no one would, since he was the first free Rider after the Fall, and to be completely honest the only one fully free. And because of that, he wasn't free at all. The bad taste in his mouth was also because of Orik, throwing him side looks, especially after the tense conversation they had the night before, after dinner as they smoked by the fire.

The meeting went well for a great part of it, so good he let his mind drift away.

Eragon, pay attention, you're staring.

He shook his head to get back to the room realizing his eyes rested upon Arya when she began to talk but stayed on her when it was someone else's turn to speak.

Damn it! I already did that yesterday. Soon enough she will slap me in the face.

Saphira's chuckle came out as a snort that interrupted Orrin's speech about the law on fair trade of silk.

She didn't even bother to apologize or explain herself, neither was demanded to. They carried on, and Eragon tried his best not to stare again.

When it was his time to speak, he brought up the matter he discussed with Arya the day before. He wanted to educate the magicians of Alagaësia and only punish those who made bad use of it. Except for Arya, that already knew about his ideas, all of them shifted in their seats.

Nasuada pursed her lips and gave him a severe look.

"I always knew you disliked my decision concerning the use of magic, but this is the only time you openly oppose it. Of course, not considering your decision on taking in the sought by justice that you prefer to call refugees."

Eragon took a deep breath. His eyes flickered to Arya before holding Nasuada's stare and he saw a glimpse of concern.

"I do not oppose, your Majesty. I propose. I am simply proposing a new approach to the situation." He stirred in his chair to turn to her. "Look, the dragons are back. The elves know this to be true, but humans often let it pass, that their magic is powerful enough to change the land on a deep level. What I am saying is that soon enough, a fifth, a fourth of the population will be familiar with magic, maybe more. They can even achieve high proficiency levels in spellcasting. Do you want to hunt them all down and put them in chains, or worse?"

Nasuada lifted her head.

"I don't want to challenge you, my queen, but forbidding does not work in the long run, it already went too long. The refugees, as you mentioned, are hardworking residents of Mount Arngor, committed to the fullest to our activities, and they only use their magical powers to aid others, since they were instructed that way, they can attest education works! Can you imagine having healers on all sides of the Brodding Kingdom? Can you imagine them all working to keep humans evolving and adapting? No more hunger and poverty. Can you imagine that?"

She seemed shaken by the image he created in her mind.

"If you want to have that in the future, you must take the first step now," Eragon said lastly and leaned back.

Nasuada looked from one face to another, studying their impressions about the matter. She took a special interest in Orrin, who appeared afraid of her potential power if she created such magical force.

"How do you plan to do that?"

"Well, I was thinking of building schools in the cities that agreed to do so. I'm sure Carvahall would be one of them, being Roran so favorable of magic. Then, the Riders would spend some time in each of the schools teaching the use of magic to those who manifested it, but also other subjects, such as reading and writing, history, mathematics, and geography, to those who want to receive a proper education. Soon enough we will have plenty of Riders to place in every city, without the need for rotation. Not only we will be producing good magicians but also proper professionals, well instructed, in all areas, from fishermen to traders or scholars."

"It's a bold plan, Shadeslayer, I give you that," King Orrin spoke but without admiration. He appeared to be suspicious of Eragon's intentions.

"I just think a good education should not be the privilege of few. People cannot be blinded to the matters of their world, they need to take control of their fate, instead of praying that no one stronger than them would submit them to his or her will. I am sorry, your majesty, but fear is the fuel to great conflict, for we reject and fight that we don't know. Let them know, educate them!"

Silence fell upon the table, as they all reminisced the last magician who submitted the land to his horrible will.

"Very well, I will consider your proposition very carefully. You managed to catch my sympathy for your cause. After all, who wants children to grow up not knowing how to read and write?" Nasuada said in a conciliatory tone.

"It's lacking, your majesty, I can assure you."

She nodded.

After that, they were all dismissed, but Eragon wanted to gather with Arya and Murtagh to discuss matters of the Order, so he stayed back, as did Arya. Murtagh and Thorn arrived about ten minutes after the others left, and Eragon thanked the gods for that, he did not want to witness such an uncomfortable convergence of strong opinions and resentment. The three of them and their dragons gathered around the table.

"So, Murtagh, I know you wanted to stay here longer and avoid being dragged into the schemes and tensions coming from Alagaësia, but we need you to take the responsibility of being our reference in Illirea, since you are the only one of us available to fly back and forth with the eggs and who aren't bound to a specific place. I can't leave Mount Arngor, and Arya frequently is held up by her duty as queen."

The red Rider looked concerned and annoyed.

"You know it won't be easy. They see me as a threat, a traitor."

"Less each day," Arya reminded.

"Still, it's an inconvenience. Why the two new Riders aren't being considered to this?"

Arya answered for Eragon.

"They are. Alagaësia is a big place, I know how much since I've been carrying dragon eggs back and forth the land for several decades now. They will help you taking the eggs to the dwarves and the urgals when it is their turn to receive them, and back to you in Illirea and to me in Ellesméra. But having you stated at the Kingdom's capital and being able to fly back here regularly will be a great advantage."

Eragon leaned forward to stare into his brother's eyes.

"Brother, you can do this. That's the only way you have to prove to the people in Alagaësia that you're worthy of their trust. They will be afraid at first, but after they start listening to the songs their bards will sing about you, they will want to see the brave Rider and Dragon that helped destroy the tyrant."

"Bards? Songs? What songs?"

A mischievous grin appeared under Eragon's mustache.

"I might have sent some song lyrics and poems to Jeod, and he might have spread them all around."

Murtagh frowned, but Arya smiled at him.

"I'm impressed, Shadeslayer. Changing the course of history with songs and poems written from afar."

He laughed.

"Well, I am my father's son, the storyteller's son. It's only fitting."

The two of them were in a light mood, but Murtagh was still concerned.

"What about the dwarves?"

Eragon stopped smiling and acquired a cautious look.

"I'm still negotiating with Orik. Anyway, as Arya said, you won't have to carry the eggs to them."

"Don't give me half-truths just because you can't lie in this language, brother. Spit it out."

Eragon exhaled heavily.

"We talked last night, Orik and I. He threatened to stop his aid to us when he realized you had joined us here. He was greatly offended because I didn't tell him before." Eragon looked down, feeling miserable for upsetting his friend. "He wants you out of the Order, Murtagh."

"Eragon! Why didn't you tell me?" Arya questioned with a severe look.

"Because it just happened last night!" He defended himself. "Besides, you're not only my fellow Rider, Arya. You're a monarch, I imagined you would feel compelled to retaliate his measure, or even intensify the help you give us." He combed the well-trimmed hair over his lip before adding. "There are a few decisions that I have to take by myself, being the Head Rider. By demanding that Murtagh be expelled from the Order, Orik is overstepping his rights as the Dwarven King, since we are free to organize ourselves as we please. Not even Nasuada could ask something like that, the same way she can't stop me from accepting her refugees."

Eragon sighed.

"I would fear it might cause us to cut all relations with the dwarves, but it cannot be done, it's unimaginable to exclude an entire race from our consideration, and we also included them in the pact with the dragons. Neither would I want that, I'm technically a dwarf too." He sighed, tired.

So, what will you do? Thorn's voice ringed inside his mind, and Eragon flinched slightly since he was not used to having the red dragon talking to him regularly.

"What I just said. I'm negotiating." He smiled a sad smile.

"It's not going well, I figure." Arya's discontentment was very visible in her features.

"You know the dwarves. Stubborn as the rocks they are buried in, you said it yourself yesterday." Eragon fixated his eyes on the man in front of him. "But one thing I assure you, you are as part of this Order just as Arya and I, and if it comes to it, we will find other ways to get the resources sent by Orik if he decides to cut us out. We will endure his estoppel because it is our prerogative to remain immune from any political influence or demands."

Murtagh didn't seem very confident but trusted in Eragon's words.

"All right then. We were hoping to stay away from Alagaësia for now, but if you judge it important that we do this, I will carry the eggs and do whatever is requested of a Dragon Rider, but until you haven't sorted things out with Orik, I'm not stepping a foot in Tronjheim or any of their territories."

"I would never ask this of you, brother, like I already said. I care too much about your safety." Eragon was firm but warm, which made Murtagh relax his expression and nod to him.

"How exactly are you planning to replace Orik's supplies?" Arya asked, and Eragon could tell she was still mad and worried, he just didn't know if it was exactly him she was mad with.

"I sent an expedition east, to look for mineral sources, it came back with optimistic perspectives, but we still need to figure out how to extract it. If we succeed, we will have enough to cover our needs. Besides that, we already started planting rice on the flooded banks down the Edda River. We have enough to hold us for the winter, along with the wheat Nasuada sends us and the other provisions you've been too kind to provide us as well. The elves are doing great farming work here, so we expect to be completely self-sufficient in a year or two when it comes to vegetables and fruits. Hopefully, we can even trade in the future."

She nodded and her concern lessened.

"We have problems with the dwarven supplies from the start, so I worked with Blödhgarm to figure out what we could do to stop depending on all of your shipments. Your people have been immensely generous, I'll be forever grateful." He stopped to give her a curtsy, to which she responded equally. "This has been one of our main concerns, along with raising the dragons and educating the new Riders and Dragons."

"It seems that you have everything under control. My concerns are unfounded, I only fear how you will be able to mend things with Orik." She allowed herself to relax a little, but the mask of cold reprimand covered her face. "Now, Eragon, matters like these are too important for you to keep it just for yourself. You need to trust me to help you, otherwise, I'm useless to you as a Rider."

He gave her a gentle smile.

"You will never be useless, Arya. But I promise that I'll share with you everything I can unless I see that your position as a queen might get in the way of your judgment."

She pursed her lips; her discontent was clear.

"I will always give the most impartial judgment no matter the subject." Her voice was controlled, but Eragon knew her too well to hear a feral undertone emanating from her words.

Eragon remained calm, hating to say the next words, afraid it would sound like an accusation and strain their relationship.

"I'm not saying you are partial, but you have to admit that you can't separate the Rider from the Queen. Would you or would not come to our aid as the Elven Queen if I had told you we were defenseless against Orik's threats? Wouldn't you be tempted to send us whatever Orik decided to hold back?" His voice was low and calm because the last thing he wanted was for her to turn against him as Orik was trying to do.

She took a deep breath and looked away.

"Possibly," she admitted.

He smiled in sympathy.

"First of all, you don't know if I was intending to hide it from you, because even I didn't know if I would, but if I did, it wouldn't be because I thought you couldn't handle it, but because I thought you could handle it too well. You would cover our needs to the fullest. But if I tell you something, it is from one Rider to another, not from the Rider to the Queen."

"What difference does it make if you are talking to the Rider or the Queen? I would help, nonetheless. Don't let your pride get in the way of the well-being of your people, Eragon." Her voice was fierce, even though he recognized she tried to conciliate their differences.

"The queen's advisors would call us the 'beggar Riders' and probably give her a harder time than she would've wanted." His lips curved in an assuring smile. "My pride would be hurt, yes, but I don't want to make this more difficult to you or any of us for that matter. I don't know how much opposition you face in your government, it's none of my concern, but if there's any, I believe peace will be better kept if you manage to separate both of your duties."

Arya looked like she did not agree with his decisions, but decided to let it go, probably moved by the way he thought about her well-being. Murtagh stirred in his seat and caught his companions' eyes.

"Fine then. We established how competent and intelligent my little brother is, now it's time to decide when I'll be leaving for my assignment."

"I thought you could fly with Arya and Fírnen to Ellesméra and start from there, presenting the next egg to the elves, as soon as the Games are over."

"We're staying for the whole month," Arya stated casually.

Eragon widened his eyes.

"Really?"

"Really."

He barely could contain his excitement but tried his hardest to keep a straight face.

"You can wait until the end of the month and go to Ellesméra with Arya…" An idea came up to his mind. "Or you could make the journey alongside Nasuada and her retinue. They will sail down the river and follow it south to the sea, then get around the coast to the Kingdom. It takes less time than coming here if the tides are favorable, but still, it's enough time and a good opportunity for you to get acquainted with her people and the dynamics of her reign since you will see yourself entangled in their politics more often than not."

Murtagh seemed to think hard about his proposal, and Eragon refrained from smiling. He already knew what option his brother would choose and was glad to provide him a little time with Nasuada.

"As much as I truly want to go to Ellesméra, which I do," he affirmed glancing at Arya, "I think you are right, Eragon. I need to learn all I can about Nasuada's ruling and her court."

Eragon nodded.

"Wise decision."

"We will leave when the Games are over, then?" Murtagh asked with expectation in his eyes.

"That's right."

"So, I think I'm going to go tell her we will be traveling together, if she allows, of course."

Eragon smiled.

"You go do that, yes. We don't want her to have any surprises."

"No, we don't".

He motioned to leave but paused.

"Unless there's something else to discuss."

Eragon caught Arya's eyes and realized she was amused as well.

"I don't believe there is. Arya?"

She shook her head.

"You can go then, I still have to write some reports, but you should go talk to Nasuada."

Murtagh then stood up and Arya mimicked him. Seeing that the queen was standing, Eragon also rose to his feet.

The Red Rider pressed two fingers to his lips to Arya and Eragon and left, followed by Thorn. Eragon turned to Arya waiting for her to leave as well, but she simply stared at him for a while.

He got caught in her emerald eyes and her smell and allowed himself to just be captivated by her. She then diverted her gaze and sat back down.

Confused, Eragon didn't know what made her stay but didn't complain.

He followed her and quietly started to work. He grabbed five sheets of parchment, dipped the pen in ink, and started his report. In the Ancient Language, he described what had been settled in the meeting with the leaders and the general decisions took among the Riders, specifically the new role Murtagh would play as a Dragon Rider, now that he was officially a member of the Order.

Eragon could feel her eyes analyzing him but tried not to think about it. He finished his report and revised it. It was good. Lastly, he signed and glided the parchment to Arya.

"Can you sign your name next to mine, please? It is of great convenience that you are here, so I don't have to send all the reports to you to be signed and then sent to the others."

She frowned and grabbed the report and the feather.

"I don't know why you need my signature every time. Everyone trusts you are being truthful in your reports."

"Maybe, but I won't be the Head Rider forever, neither the monarchs will hold their crowns forever. It's a futile measure now but maybe necessary in the future. I just want to make sure, by creating rules that can be followed even if the circumstances change dramatically."

"If you think it's best, I will respect your decision." She read the report. "Is this mine?"

"Yes, what gave it away? Was it the Ancient Language or the vocative?" he teased her with a smirk, glad to be back to a lighter mood after they disagreement of before.

You tend to disagree a lot when it comes to decisions like that, Saphira observed.

I guess she's not so sure if I can make the right choices.

Nonsense, Eragon. She trusts you blindly. I think it's something else, I believe she feels left out.

Left out? She's my right hand in the Order, my second in command. How can she think that?

I was just guessing. Maybe you should address that later.

Arya didn't answer to his jest but smiled back. She watched as he took the parchment back from her, folded it in three parts, and sealed the letter pressing the Riders' insignia on the blue wax, a dragon with open wings.

Eragon handed the letter back to her.

"Please, Rider, deliver this to the Elven Queen when you see her." He teased her again, still thinking about what Saphira said but not willing to ruin the moment with more serious matters.

"Yes, Master." Her smile was equally mocking.

Their eyes lingered on each other once again, until she broke contact and he restarted to write.

One in the dwarven language, one in the language of the urgals, and two in the common language, his native tongue. He signed them all and passed them to her, his second in command. Eragon watched as she glided the feather on the paper with her left hand, her inclined handwriting full of elegance shamed his own. He pointed it out to her, but she didn't allow his self-deprecating demeanor.

"I don't know anyone else who knows the four major languages in Alagaësia so proficiently. If you think aesthetics are more important than real knowledge, I think you should re-evaluate your priorities."

He smiled at her because, despite her scolding, her tone wasn't strict, but rather complimentary.

When they finished folding and sealing the letters, Eragon sat back on his chair, stretching his neck. Again, he felt her eyes studying him and when he turned to her, she didn't seem embarrassed like he would have if it were him doing the staring, like he was the day before and earlier during the meeting. She's a better man than you, Saphira commented in a playful voice.

"What is it?" He asked softly.

"What is what?"

He smiled to seem more friendly and don't startle her.

"You have been staring at me often yesterday, and now too. What is it, you don't like my beard?" He joked, but his heart was pounding. He wanted her to say she was acting that way because she missed him and couldn't avoid keeping her eyes on him, or something like that, but it was just a fool desire, he knew better than that.

She blinked, surprised.

"Your beard? No, it is fine. It's a good beard." He instinctively brushed his mustache with his two first fingers of the right hand.

"Then what?"

Arya hesitated. Her cheeks blushed with embarrassment.

"I'm ashamed to admit this, but I noticed your name has changed and have been trying to guess it. One should never try to guess someone else's name without permission. I wronged you and wasn't as subtle as I intended to be in my disconcerting pursuit. I'm sorry." She lowered her eyes to her hands on her lap.

His eyes widened. She was trying to figure out his new name? Why? Was she afraid that the part concerning her no longer existed? If that was why, Arya didn't need to worry, because she was very much engraved in his essence. But he was the one afraid, for he was fearing she would shut him out again when she heard how much his feelings developed and how much the Eldunarí altered his perception of time and life itself. But none of it mattered since he would openly reveal his new name to her if she wanted, after all, he had done it before.

"Any luck?"

She squinted her eyes and shook her head.

"I feel I'm almost there though."

He smiled quizzically.

"Do you want me to tell you, or do you take it as a challenge, a good riddle to pass the time?"

"Aren't you offended?"

"Offended? Why would I be offended? I gave you my name once, Arya. It's yours to keep it, changing or not. You can try to guess or ask me directly, I gave you all the right to do so."

She appeared disarmed before his complete surrender.

"I don't know what to say, Eragon. You hold me too high in your consideration." Her eyes were unsure.

His expression was relaxed, despite fearing her judgment when she found out his new identity. He would always fear her opinion about him but trying to overcome that was inevitable for him.

"I do, Arya, how could I not? But you didn't answer me, will you try to guess, or you give up right here?"

He challenged her in a good mood like he was proposing a fun game to a child.

Arya competitively lifted her chin.

"Is it a bet?"

He thought for a second.

"It can be. What do you want if you win?"

She paused to ponder about it. Eragon watched as her brows came together just to be relaxed once again and a stunning smile flourished on her face.

"A poem."

"A poem?"

"Like the one you made for the Blood Oath Celebration."

"About what?"

She shrugged.

"About what moves you the most. You're the poet, I'm sure you will find a motive."

Eragon agreed.

"Fine, a poem it is."

He saw a flash of caution pass through her eyes as she asked, "What if you win, what will it be?"

Eragon thought that certainly she was afraid of what he would ask. If he could have anything of her, what would it be? He wanted a lot from her, his desire never ceased, but he only desired what she was gladly willing to give him, not what she had to give for losing a bet. He took a deep breath, disappointed that she would think that of him.

"You've been to Carvahall recently. I would like a fairth of my family, all of them the way they are now. I just wish my new baby cousin had been born by the time you were there."

Her eyes were suddenly empathetic. He knew she would make the fairth anyway, winning or losing, but he couldn't think of something he wanted more than to see his family again.

She agreed.

"Do I have a month to guess it?"

"We have a month. I get to figure out your new name too."

Arya looked surprised.

"What makes you think my name has changed?"

He smiled.

"Hasn't it?"

She hesitated before answering.

"It has. But I am not ready to tell you yet."

"Well, you have a month to prepare, besides, you won't have to tell me, I will figure it out on my own." He joked but got serious when he saw her concerned eyes. Quickly he added to reassure her. "Unless you don't want me to, of course. I can't force you to reveal it to me."

She took a deep and painful breath and agreed. "You can guess it, but I won't tell you what it is if you can't."

He nodded and wondered why the secrecy. What had changed in her name that could cause this much reluctance?

A long silence fell between them, and Eragon wondered if he should break it. Opting for just enjoying the moment with her by his side, he shifted in his chair, crossing his legs and resting his intertwined fingers on his chest. This time he didn't feel her eyes on him and glanced at her just to see that she had an empty look on her face. He allowed himself an instant of contemplation.

She didn't look sad or worried. Arya looked like someone in a deep conversation with herself, and maybe she was, or maybe the other end of her dialogue was only Fírnen. He focused on Arya and saw her shaking her head as she was trying to wipe away an unwanted thought.

She turned to him and said, "So, do you think it's wise of Murtagh to be in Nasuada's company?"

Eragon had the impression she was trying to make small talk, but the subject she chose was far from unimportant.

"Wise? Surely not. But if there's one thing I've been learning in this short life of mine is that we usually don't regret the things we do, but the things we don't do."

"You think they should just disregard the impediments to their relationship and engage in a story bound to be doomed in the end?"

He started to think she was probing his beliefs just how she had done in the past, like when she had told him the story of the Menoa Tree.

So long light mood! Deep conversation, here we go, he thought to Saphira.

You have a lot to talk about, little one, it's all been piling up in the last decade. Just don't oppose her too much, all right?

"You said well, in the end. All love stories end in doom for the mortals, either in a painful separation or in death. When a couple gets married, they do it knowing it's going to end and, what's most strange to immortal beings, they hope their separation happens in death, for that means they fulfilled their purpose of loving, protecting, and serving each other for all their lives." He uncrossed his legs and stretched them under the table. "A little time for Murtagh would be better than no time at all. And for Nasuada, it would be a chance for a lifetime of feeling loved and cared for. I would take it gladly, being one or another. Wouldn't you?" He wasn't exactly friendly with that last question.

I said don't oppose her too much!

Eragon didn't care to answer, he was focused on receiving Arya's perceptions on the matter. She had shared deep details of her story the night before and appeared to Eragon that they had built a new bridge to more intimate subjects. It was exciting and scary, his heart was racing inside his chest, and he hoped she wouldn't feel trapped and run away.

Arya pursed her lips and looked away from him.

"I don't know. I can't think like them right now, I can only see through my own eyes."

"And seeing through your own eyes, what do you think you would do?"

He was curious to hear her answer because it could tell him a lot about what her idea of love and relationships was, more than he already got to know from her revelations about Fäolin.

Arya stared back at him.

"If I were the rider in love with the human queen, I would probably try my best not to keep her from her duties, knowing that a relationship between us could prevent her from finding a suitable husband and future father of the heir to the throne."

A bitter taste came to Eragon's mouth, as he remembered exactly her rejection of him stating she didn't want to get in the way of his duties as a Rider.

"But if I were the mortal human," she continued, "I would want to live my life to the fullest, knowing how ephemeral it was."

"Would you abdicate your throne to be with him?"

She pondered, her eyes were more intense in his.

"I would try to find a way to conciliate both sides of my life, but if it weren't possible, yes, that would be a possibility, but I can't tell for sure. A possibility is not a certainty, I must remind you."

Eragon shook his head in confusion.

"I don't get it. You talk as Murtagh has all the time in the world, therefore he can afford not to love and being loved back. As he was supposed to give up on his happiness because of his duties as a Rider. Isn't it a little cruel of you, to think of how many years of misery he would have to endure for not having her, ever?" Eragon's voice gradually became cynical. His own frustrations mingling with his brother's sad prospects of having a long and happy love story with a mortal woman.

She took a deep breath but didn't have time to answer, because Eragon sat up straight in his chair and, staring at her, kept on his hurtful speech.

Be careful, little one!

"I hope he finds some peace with Nasuada, and for the years to come, they live happily in each other's arms, because I refuse to agree with Brom when he noted to me in a memory how much the men in this family are unlucky in love. And he wasn't even considering my mother's side of the family, so at least there's Roran and Katrina, but even them, I lie awake at night sometimes thinking how fragile their lives are and how they could lose each other untimely, just how it happened to Aunt Marian. Even Garrow was left alone before the right time."

He stopped to catch his breath. "As I said, it's more likely that Murtagh regrets not giving it a chance when Nasuada is long gone, than regretting spending all her life by her side when he watches her body being lowered into her grave. It's better to lose than never have had it at all."

When he finished, he noticed her eyes were inspecting every bit of his face, absorbing all his emotions.

Maybe she does win the bet, Saphira noted.

I fear for the poem she will get then. He answered with bitterness.

She is not trying to antagonize you, Eragon, or even hurt you. Remember she has lost someone she loved before and knows more about that kind of loss than any of us. She's just trying to be cautious, after all, she knows if it's better to lose than never have had it at all.

"I wasn't trying to be cruel," she started and again it was like hearing her voice in his memory.

"No, I know you weren't." He looked away, considering what Saphira said. "I just keep thinking how a person's life is like a candle burning in the night, the bigger the flame, the fastest the candle burns itself to extinction. Humans burn fast, consumed by the flame of their emotions, they love and hate with desperate eagerness. They don't need too many years to learn how to feel, they just do it. The long-living races, on the other hand, are difficult to keep their flames alive. It gets blown out by every puff of cool air, so they endure untouched until a spark of emotion makes it burn, just to be put out again. It goes like this until they either decide to ignite their full potential or never light up again."

He raised his shoulders and looked away as he was talking to someone else that wasn't there. "They live longer, but do they live better? Do you think Murtagh, who was born to burn fast in the night, should suppress his desires to fulfill the designs of his position as a Rider? Do you think Fäolin would regret giving you his heart and burn faster than he was born to do if he was given the chance to turn back time?"

He stared back at her as comprehension passed through Arya's eyes when their eyes met, and he thought he saw wonderment in her gaze.

Eragon just wanted her to see that the cold demeanor the elves kept would be their downfall. They needed to connect, to allow themselves to truly feel, instead of pursuing an ideal of beauty and perfection with every little part of their beings. Love and relationships, of all kinds, aren't perfect, far away from it, they cause pain and regret, they leave marks impossible to erase. He wished she could go after her true desires instead of being stirred in direction of duty every time a choice was presented to her. She held back from Fäolin until she possibly could, then tried to end things with him because she thought her role as ambassador was worth more than their relationship, and it nearly broke her after his death. Eragon wanted Arya to allow herself to heal from her pains and forgive her past, but how could he do that? He feared words wouldn't be enough.

"Fäolin was given the chance to let go of me, which he took when I left home, just to later decide that it hadn't been a good choice for him, so he burnt away, now I see. And clearly, Murtagh has his own opinion about all this, and I don't disapprove, neither think it is any of my concern. But you asked what I would do if I were any of them, so I told you, without considering the picture you just painted before my eyes." She nodded like she was fervently agreeing with him.

She continued, "Yes, I believe we as individuals can choose to burn fast or linger on unlit throughout the time, just the way you argued, and the choice is ours alone. You taught me something today Eragon, and again I was schooled by someone many years younger than me. Consider this, however: for some of us, it isn't a choice at all. We just do what we must do, to live with ourselves. Duty is not just toward others, but to ourselves too. I think you know it better than anyone, including myself. Unfortunately, it may cause us to be frozen in time, immune to passion and personal satisfaction."

She's right. Would you leave Mount Arngor to go be with her?

No. Not right now at least.

Not ever, little one. You will always think you're needed here. And so does she.

Her eyes were warmer and her voice became a soft blow of wind. "You are a bigger person than anyone I know, Eragon. If everyone had a heart like yours, there wouldn't be injustice or evil in the world, but love and understanding would be the law."

He felt his emotions shift so fast inside of him he had difficulty keeping track of them. In one moment, he was frustrated by her willingness to disregard a future beside someone she loved in the name of duty. In the next second, her admiration for him touched him deeply, but not his pride, his most humble part instead. He felt small, contrary to what she said about him, crushed by the need for her approval. And she gave him her understanding of how his choices mirrored hers, and how they didn't look like choices at all. Serving the elves as their monarch was similar to raising the new Order of the Dragon Riders, two heavy burdens not fit for anybody else than them both. He couldn't see them calling the path they took by the name of choice, for it required for them to be free. He wanted to go to her, she wanted to stay in Arngor. Maybe they had different motivations, but the yearning was the same, to choose, to go.

Eragon was a lonely man, despite having Saphira constantly inside his head. He craved approval, attention, and, most of all, skin-to-skin contact. Someone to hold his hand and hug him, tell him all was right when the burden of his duties threatened to bury him deep inside himself. Someone to caress his face and kiss him every time he left and every time he returned. He never had that, and he wondered if he would ever have it, being him so intimately connected to the memories of the dragons, being changed daily by their magic. Would he burn fast or linger on unlit forever? If the choice were presented to him, he knew which one he would like to take. So, yes, if he were his brother, he would've been by Nasuada's side a long time ago.

He sighed and got up. Then he got on one knee in front of her and touched her right cheek with his fingertips so softly, that it made her lean her face gently against his hand.

Smiling with affection, Eragon spoke in a faint but courageous voice.

"My heart… I would gladly give it to you if you'd let me." Her eyes got darker, so before she could say anything that would push him away, he retrieved his hand from her face, making his words fall out between them. "Come, there's one place left for you to see. I couldn't show you yesterday because of the Games, but it's your right as a Dragon Rider to see it." He stood up and walked to the door waiting for her to follow him. "I think you will like it."