"Who are you? How do we know if we can trust you?" Eragon quested tensely, struggling to process it all.
They speak the truth, Eragon. Glaedr confirmed in the tongue of the elves, his Rider continuing.
We know, for I helped devise the plan for this place.
You did? GB asked with wide sockets.

The unknown voice spoke before they could continue.
My name is Umaroth. My Rider was the elf Vrael, leader of our order before our doom came upon us. Here, a note of exasperation seeped in.
I speak for the others but I do not command them, for while many of us were bonded with Riders, more were not, and our wild brethren acknowledge no authority but their own. It would be too confusing for all of us to speak at once, so my voice will stand for the rest.

Are you…? Eragon quested mentally, regarding the silver dragon-headed man.
"No, that's Cuaroc." Abyss shook his skull, dropping it so that Umaroth could continue.
Indeed, that is Cuaroc, Hunter of the Nïdhwal and Bane of the Urgals. Silvarí the Enchantress fashioned for him the body he now wears, so that we would have a champion to defend us should Galbatorix or any foes force their way into the Vault of Souls.

While he explained, Cuaroc reached and opened up his chest, revealing a purple Eldunarí coated in thousands of silver wires, GB huffing in astonishment.
You're literally a robot.... Alphys would love to see what makes you tick.
"An entire portion of the Multiverse would be intrigued by him. I only suggest we don't let Sci near him. Or Gaster, for that matter." Blue pointed out drily.

The metal man closed the compartment, as expressionless as ever while Umaroth continued.
No, I am over here. He silently dragged their gazes to a sizable white gem.
Eragon finally slipped Brisingr back in it's sheath, a dazed look about him.

The human headed to the shelves on the right, pausing by Cuaroc. "May I?" He asked both aloud and with mind.
He only clacked his teeth and turned, moving to stand by the giant orange pit in the middle of the floor, sword still at the ready.

"Me as well, may I?" Blue quested eagerly, looking to the left. The crimson flames that resembled eyelights regarded him before the other grunted, chin tapping against chest. Blue nodded back, darting over to regard a rich, raspberry and mauve egg nearly as large as his ribcage.

…I almost want to compare them. GB murmured behind him, breath breezing over his shirt. Blue fought the impulsive urge to stiffen up, instead chuckling. Perhaps sometime later. Now doesn't feel appropriate.
He didn't want to lie, but neither did he want to explain.. everything involving the dragonchild.

So instead, they both looked out at all the eggs. Blue studied them all, amazed.
All of a sudden, the chamber rang with a frustrated roar that made detritus fall from above.
How?! Saphira snapped, growling.
How could you have escaped Galbatorix?! We dragons do not hide when we fight. We are not cowards to run from danger. Explain yourselves!

Not so loudly, Bjartskular, or you will upset the younglings in their eggs. Umaroth scolded.
She snarled. Then speak, old one, and tell us how this can be.

With a flash of amusement that turned to sorrow, he spoke.
You are correct: we are not cowards, and we do not hide when we fight, but even dragons may lie in wait so as to catch their prey by surprise. Would you not agree, Saphira?
Her tail swung irritably as she snorted.

And we are not like the Fanghur or the lesser vipers who abandon their young to live or die according to the whims of fate. Had we joined the battle for Doru Araeba, we would only have been destroyed. Galbatorix's victory would have been absolute- as indeed he believes it was- and our kind would have passed forever from the face of the earth. Umaroth explained.

Glaedr then took up the tale.
Once the true extent of Galbatorix's power and ambition became evident, and once we realized that he and the traitors with him intended to attack Vroengard, then Vrael, Umaroth, Oromis, and I, and a few others, decided that it would be best to hide the eggs of our race, as well as a number of the Eldunarí. It was easy to convince the wild dragons; Galbatorix had been hunting them, and they had no defense against his magic. They came here, and they gave charge of their unhatched offspring to Vrael, and those who could have laid eggs when otherwise they would have waited, for we knew that the survival of our race was threatened. Our precautions, it seems, were well thought of.

Eragon caressed his head in confusion.
"Why didn't you know of this before? Either of you? And how is it possible to hide their minds? You told us it couldn't be done."
Not with magic alone. Oromis explained.
However, where magic may fail, distance may yet succeed. It is why we are so far underground, a mile beneath Mount Erolas. Even if Galbatorix or any of the Forsworn thought to search with their minds in such an unlikely location, the intervening rock would have made it difficult to feel much more than a confused flux of energy, which is easily attributed to the eddies of the blood of the earth that lies so close beneath us.

Glaedr took up the narrative.
Moreover, before the battle of Doru Araeba, more than a hundred years ago, all of the Eldunarí were placed in a trance so deep as to be akin to death, which made them that much more difficult to find. Our plan was to rouse them after the fighting was over, but those who built this place also cast a spell that would wake them from their trance once several moons had passed.

As it did. Umaroth confirmed. The Vault of Souls was placed here for another reason as well. The pit you see before you opens onto a lake of molten stone that has lain beneath these mountains since the world was born. It provides the warmth needed to keep the eggs comfortable, and it also provides the light needed for us Eldunarí to maintain our strength.

Turning to their teachers, Eragon pressed.
You still haven't answered my question: why didn't you or Oromis remember this place?
"They gave up their memories." Abyss murmured. They glanced at him before Umaroth answered.

Because all who knew of the Vault of Souls agreed to have the knowledge removed from their minds and replaced with a false memory, including Oromis and Glaedr. It was not an easy decision, especially for the mothers of the eggs, but we could not allow anyone outside this room to remain in possession of the truth, lest Galbatorix should learn of us from them. So we said farewell to our friends and comrades, knowing full well that we might never see them again and that, if the worst came to pass, they would die believing we had entered into the void…. As I said, it was not an easy decision. We also erased from all memory the names of the rock that marks the entrance to this sanctuary, even as we had earlier erased the names of the thirteen dragons who chose to betray us.

In a tired voice, Glaedr spoke.
I've spent the last hundred years believing that our kind was doomed to oblivion. Now, to know that all my anguish was for naught… I am glad, though, that I was able to help safeguard our race through my ignorance.

And this is why you left the Varden? GB questioned Abyss. You somehow learned this?
The small one spread out his hands in a vague gesture.
"What do you expect of me? They have been watching across Alagaësia. The memories were forgotten- forcibly, yes, but forgotten- and I am Memory. We are Memory. I can make myself forget only in part, so I was still a liability to them. I understand that. Can't let Galbatorix somehow find it in me. It would be dangerous. Well.. a lot of the information I have is dangerous. Especially what I can do." He nodded to Saphira's saddlebags, indicating Oromis.

"Sure, it's difficult, especially when I'm no longer exactly broken, but I still plan on doing more. 243 eggs is not enough. This world relies on dragons to maintain its balances, and before it can be shifted even somewhat away from them, it has to be stabilized. So.. it won't harm to add a little to that number." He grinned broadly at their stares.

How would you do that. GB deadpanned in disbelief. Abyss turned, striding to the pit and peering inside.
"Well?" Blue asked.

Suddenly, a thin, branching tendril of cyan and aquamarine emerged from the scarves, lifting up to reveal eerily familiar orbs hanging off like fruit from a tree. Abyss turned, smiling. His eyelights were wide and somewhat greener than usual, their depths more of a cyan as he spoke in a different voice, almost feminine.
"I am Soul. I control the waters in which you return to when you leave your current forms. I am those waters. And while bodies are not creations usually within my expertise.. It can be done. It must be done. And it will be done in tandem with Life."

The silence that followed was long and almost disquieting.
"...There are 243 eggs here?" Blue whispered.
Abyss seemed to snap back to himself.
"250 if we're counting Saphira's. Sort of rounds it up nicely. Only 26 are waiting to be bound to Riders, though. The rest are all wild."
"217 wild dragons?" GB murmured.
"They had always outnumbered the bonded dragons by many and they will continue to do so until dragons truly cease to be in this world. Hopefully the reason then will simply because we have all moved to the stars together."

"Now that is a bold statement. You think some day we'll be space-farers?" Blue asked.
"It's happened in plenty of AU's before. Did you forget Outer?"
He hesitated, having indeed forgotten Outer's past. It was technically like his own future.
"I did. I did forget him."
"Don't worry. A lot of folks forget the truth of his universe regularly."

They all abruptly realized that he had been hovering, the ends of his scarves trailing instead of dragging on the floor, waving as if caught in an underwater current. He drifted over the boiling orange pit, tendrils emerging from his backside as he chuckled softly.
"Anyway, I've interrupted the rest of you enough. Your conversation is more important than mine, and we need to be getting back sooner rather than later, so…. I'll be minding my business down here."

He dropped into the hole without a second thought, Blue, GB and Eragon rushing over in alarm to find he was already gone, a field of orange, bubbling and smoking liquid appearing to distort from the waving lines of heat a hundred feet away. A glowing aquamarine light shone just above the surface, gleaming as it resolved into the shape of a carved diamond.

"Is that all molten stone?" Eragon asked almost incredulously.
"That is all magma, yes. Doru Araeba is a volcanic island." Blue replied somewhat uncertainly. "..What is he doing? It can't be safe being so close to all that."
I don't know, but I guess that's a god for ya. GB seemed to accept, pulling back.

Glancing around the room, he finally asked.
How did you avoid Galbatorix in the first place? Wouldn't he have realized that so many Eldunarí and eggs had just vanished?

He thought we were killed in battle. Umaroth answered. We were but a small portion of the Eldunarí on Vroengard, not enough for him to become suspicious of our absence. As for the eggs, no doubt he was enraged by their loss, but he would have had no reason to believe trickery was involved.
Glaedr perked up slightly, though sorrowful.
Ah yes, that was why Thuviel agreed to sacrifice himself: to conceal our deception from Galbatorix.

"But didn't Thuviel kill many of his own?" Eragon quested.
He did, and it was a great tragedy. Umaroth confirmed. However, we had agreed that he was not to act unless it was obvious that defeat was unavoidable. By immolating himself, he destroyed the buildings where we normally kept the eggs, and he also rendered the island poisonous to ensure that Galbatorix would not choose to settle here.

"Did he know why he was killing himself?" The human queried further.
At the time, no, only that it was necessary. One of the Forsworn had slain Thuviel's dragon a month before. Though he had refrained from passing into the void, as we needed every warrior we had to fight Galbatorix, Thuviel no longer wished to continue living. He was glad for the task then; it granted him the release he yearned for while also allowing him to serve our cause. By the gift of his life, he secured a future for both our race and the Riders. He was a great and courageous hero, and his name shall someday be sung in every corner of Alagaësia.

After the battle, you waited. Saphira noted. It was not a question, only an observation.
And then we waited. Umaroth agreed. More than a hundred years they had been here, waiting.
But we have not been idle. He added.

When we woke from our trance, we began to cast our minds out, slowly at first, and then with ever-greater confidence once we realized Galbatorix and the Forsworn had left the island. Together our strength was great, and we have been able to observe much of what has transpired throughout the land in the years since. We cannot scry, not normally, but we can see the skeins of tangled energy strewn across Alagaësia, and we can often listen to the thoughts of those who make no effort to defend their minds. In that way, we have gathered our information.

The loneliness of the concept was humbling, but Umaroth continued.
As the decades crawled past, we began to despair that anyone would be able to kill Galbatorix. We were prepared to wait for centuries if needed, but we could sense the Egg-breaker's power growing, and we feared that our wait would be one of thousands of years instead of hundreds. That, we agreed, would be unacceptable, both for the sake of our sanity and the sake of the younglings in the eggs. They are blund with magic that slows their bodies, and they can remain as they are for years more, but it is not good for them to stay within their shells for too long. If they do, their minds can grow twisted and strange.

GB winced at the thought, Blue pondering how exactly they would become strange as Umaroth kept on.
Thus spurred by our concern, we began to intervene in the events we saw. At first only in small ways: a nudge here, a whispered suggestion there, a sense of alarm to one about to be ambushed. We did not always succeed, but we were able to help those who still fought Galbatorix, and as time progressed, we grew more adept and more confident with our tampering. On a few rare occasions, our presence was noticed, but no one was ever able to determine who or what we were. Thrice we were able to arrange the death of one of the Forsworn; when not ruled by his passions, Brom was a useful tool to us.

"You helped Brom!" Blue and Eragon cried simultaneously, one with glee and the other in shock.
We did, and many others as well. Umaroth admitted.

When the human known as Hefring stole Saphira's egg from Galbatorix's treasure room- nigh on twenty years ago- we aided his escape, but we went too far, for he noticed us and became frightened. He fled and did not meet with the Varden as he was supposed to. Later, after Brom had rescued your egg, and the Varden and the elves started to bring younglings before it in an attempt to find the one for whom you would hatch, we decided that we should make certain preparations for that eventuality. So we reached out to the werecats, who have long been friends of the dragons, and spoke with them. They agreed to help us, and to them we gave the knowledge of the Rock of Kuthian and the brightsteel beneath the roots of the Menoa tree, and then we removed all memory of our conversation from their minds.

"You did all that from here?" Eragon questioned with awe.
And more. Umaroth answered. Have you ever wondered why Saphira's egg happened to appear in front of you while you were in the midst of the Spine?

That was your doing? The dragon asked.
"I thought it was because Brom is my father, and Arya mistook me for him." The human admitted.
Nay, the spells of elves do not easily go astray. We altered the flow of magic so that you and Saphira would meet. We thought there was a chance- a small one, but a chance nevertheless- that you might prove to be a fit match for her. We were right.

"Why didn't you bring us here sooner, though?" Eragon asked.
Because you needed time for your training, and otherwise we risked alerting Galbatorix to our presence before you or the Varden were ready to confront him. If we had contacted you after the Battle of the Burning Plains, what good would it have done, with the Varden still so far from Urû'baen?
No one said anything for a time.

"What else have you done for us?" The human inquired.
A few nudges, mostly. Visions of Arya in Gil'ead, when she needed your aid. The healing of your back during the Agaetí Blödhren.

You sent them to Gil'ead, untrained and without wards with a new, lost race at their backs knowing that they would have to face a Shade? Glaedr questioned, displeased.
We thought Brom would be with them, and there was no way to predict the arrival of the skeletons. And yet, even once he died, we could not stop them, for they still had to go to Gil'ead to find the Varden. Despite this, the skeletons have proved themselves to be adept warriors regardless of their knowledge of our magics.

"Wait." Eragon cut in. "You were responsible for my… transformation?"
In part. We touched the reflection of our race that the elves summon during the celebration. We provided the inspiration, and she-he-it provided the strength for the spell. This, too, was how we first communicated with the Living Flame watching over monsterkind.

As the human dropped his gaze reverently to the floor, Blue glanced at GB.
"Is there any chance you know what she is? The living flame, that is."
No. We are only aware of their-her desires. They-she wish to see you succeed.

The confused silence stretched on before Eragon interrupted it with a soft voice.
"Elrun ono." Thank you.
You are most welcome, Shadeslayer.
"Have you helped Roran as well?"
Your cousin has required no assistance from us.

A pause, then Umaroth changed tune.
We have watched both of you, Eragon and Saphira, for many years now. We have watched you grow from hatchlings to mighty warriors, and we are proud of all you have accomplished. You, Eragon, have been all we hoped for in a new Rider. And you, Saphira, have proven yourself worthy of being counted among the greatest members of our race.

As the pair were still reeling from the praise, he turned to Blue and GB.
And you, Eldgath and Istalrífreohr. We have only seen you for as long as you have been in Alagaësia, but your hearts are pure and sense of honor most admirable. If we were capable of amending the bond between our race and others, we would have done so already to allow your kinds among our ranks. As it is, your ability to mimic such a profound connection is remarkable, and telling of your nature as vessels for the beings you both carry. As it is, you seem to have proven possible there can exist honorary Riders in our guild. And for all you have done for us, we are grateful. We thank you for your efforts.

Blue automatically teared up, holding a hand to his face with a watery laugh.
"It.. it is an honor to be regarded as such. I.." He slowly kneeled even as Eragon did, speaking before the human.
"I swear to you that I will strive to uphold the peace and maintain justice in the world, to make it better than before, make it better than the last."

And I promise to protect the innocent and bring justice to those whose Souls are black. Starting with Galbatorix. GB added, somewhat inspired as he dipped his skull.
"And my sword is yours-" and my teeth and claws- "to the end of our days. What would you have of us, Ebrithilar?" Eragon and Saphira spoke, merging to one.

The old dragon seemed satisfied with their words, deigning to answer the question.
Now that you have found us, our days of hiding are over; we would go with you to Urû'baen and fight alongside you to kill Galbatorix. The time has come for us to leave our den and once and for all confront that traitorous egg-breaker. Without us, he would be able to pry open your minds as easily as did we, for he has many Eldunarí at his command.

I don't think our inventories can fit all of you. GB noted nervously.
Nor can I carry all of you. Saphira added.
You shall not have to. Umaroth assured them.
Five of us will stay to watch over the eggs, along with Cuaroc. In the event we should fail to defeat Galbatorix, they will tamper no more with the skeins of energy, but will content themselves with waiting until it is again safe for dragons to venture forth into Alagaësia. But you need not worry; we shall not be a burden to you, for we will provide the strength to move our weight.

"How many of you are there?" Eragon asked as they watched the metal guardian start removing the gems from their alcoves, putting them in the silk bags they had been resting on and piling them on the floor near the pit.

136. Umaroth replied.
But do not think we will be able to best the Eldunarí Galbatorix has enslaved. We are too few, and those who were chosen to be placed within this vault were either too old and too valuable to risk in the fighting or too young and too inexperienced to participate in the battle. That is why I elected to join them; I provide a bridge between the groups, a point of common understanding that otherwise would be lacking.

To explain, he said:
Those who are older are wise and powerful indeed, but their minds wander down strange paths, and it is often hard to convince them to concentrate upon anything outside of their dreams. Those who are younger are more unfortunate: they parted from their bodies before they should have; thus their minds remain limited by the size of their Eldunarí, which can never grow or expand once it leaves the flesh. Let that be lesson to you, Saphira, not to disgorge your Eldunarí unless you have reached a respectable size or face the direst of emergencies.

"So we are still outmatched." Eragon noted darkly.
Yes, Shadeslayer. But now Galbatorix cannot force you to your knees the moment he sees you. We may not be able to best them, but we will be able to hold off his Eldunarí long enough for you and Saphira to do what you must. And have hope; we know many things, many secrets, about war and magic and the workings of the world. We will teach you what we can, and it may be that some piece of our knowledge will allow you to slay the king.

It was then that the conversation turned to plans for the return to the Varden and how to attack Urû'baen. It was a long chat, leaving them all feeling a little dazed.
Yes, Blue had felt something like this, but he had never quite known what it was. He had known there were dragons just like he had known that Galbatorix was using their power. Just like he had known Oromis would die…

But the elf was alive now. Brought back by the strange god currently lurking below them.
A deity-god, Unity had started to call him.
Knowing what both deities and gods were, it seemed.. almost fitting.

Eventually it came time for them to go, Umaroth urging Eragon to cast a spell, giving him the words.
"What is the… twist in the second line? What am I supposed to twist, the air?" He asked. The dragon tried to explain, Blue squinting thoughtfully as GB slowly lit up.
Unfortunately, the human was still as puzzled, perhaps even more so than before. Older dragons then pitched in their wisdom using baffling comparisons.

Hold on, I think I know what you're talking about. GB interrupted, the chorus pausing to regard him mentally.
You're talking about folding timespace. That's never easy to explain, but… I kinda know one.

He turned to Eragon. Okay, so basically imagine.. the air is a plane of fabric. I think what they're trying to do is basically fold it around that pile. Uh.
Blue whipped out a spare bandana from his inventory, summoning a small attack and gathering the fabric around it, pointing to the opening. "You mean this, yes? I think they're attempting to sort of create a pseudo-inventory."

Yeah it basically has the same function. GB nodded, tapping the entrance. Basically you're left seeing that entrance while the rest is elsewhere, AKA behind it. The example is folding something two-dimensional into three dimensions, so they're folding three-dimensional space into the fourth. There's no real easy way to understand it.

He waved a talon, and a black circle appeared above it, somehow a hole that was a sphere.
"..Ah." Eragon stated, still not fully understanding.
"It's alright, trying to understand the principles of spacetime is no easy task. Either way, you understand what it does now, right?" Blue asked.
"I believe so." Eragon hesitantly nodded.
Then that will have to suffice. Umaroth spoke.
Now take from us the strength needed to cast it, and then let us be off.

Anxiously, the boy began to recite the spell, trembling slightly before watching it take effect. The air wobbled as if on a hot day, then the pile warped into itself, vanishing into nothing with an odd thud. Saphira waved her face in the dpace the space the Eldunarí previously occupied, finding nothing to their great shock. Despite their visible disappearance, their minds were still present, bright and aware.

Once you leave the vault, the entrance to this pocket of space will remain at a fixed distance above and behind you at all times, save for when you are in a confined area or when a person's body should happen to pass through that space. The entrance is no larger than a pinprick, but it is more deadly than any sword; it would cut right through your flesh were you to touch it.

With a sniff, Saphira noted. Even your scent is gone.
"Who discovered how to do this?" Eragon pondered in amazement.
I'm actually wondering that too. GB agreed.
A hermit who lived on the northern coast of Alagaësia twelve hundred years ago. Umaroth answered.
It is a valuable trick if you want to hide something in plain sight, but dangerous and difficult to do correctly. He then paused hesitantly.

There is one more thing you all aught to know. He then began, directing their gazes to the black arch behind them for a moment.
The moment you pass through the great arch behind you- the Gate of Vergathos- you will begin to forget about Cuaroc and the eggs hidden here, and by the time you reach the stone doors at the end of the tunnel, all memory of them will have vanished from your minds. Even we Eldunarí will forget about the eggs. If we succeed in killing Galbatorix, the gate will restore our memories, but until then, we must remain ignorant of them.

Grumbling internally, he explained. It is… unpleasant, I know, but we cannot allow Galbatorix to learn of the eggs.
They all hesitated when a glowing figure rose from the pit, feathered wings spread wide, tendrils surrounding them, all curling around seven eggs of different colors, each displayed almost dramatically. Saphira hissed in alarm, lunging forward only for the figure to dart backwards.

"We told you your eggs would be safe behind the Door, daughter of Vervada." The feminine voice returned, full of whispers as it echoed unnaturally, only slightly followed by Abyss's voice.
You tell me this now?! She snarled.

"We.. I was afraid." Abyss sounded more present.
"We tried to warn you, but couldn't bring ourselves to tell you the full truth. For that, we are sorry." The tendrils swept backwards, gently setting the eggs within empty alcoves that had previously held Eldunarí, somehow forming cushions that resembled the feather-fur fluff of the wings.
"They will be safe here. Who would harm them?"

You ask me to forget I have younglings?! She swung her head around angrily.
"It's a temporary measure. You'll remember as soon as he's dead."
And if he does not die?!
"He will die." Several voices spoke at once, including deities.
"We feel it." Blue added for good measure, a strained smile on his face. "And in all honesty, I see no safer alternative. Yes, we could bring them to the elves, but then it is possible he could discover their existence. Is this not the safest option there is, Saphira?"

She only stared at the seven eggs with a slight keen.
They are too few.. She crooned mournfully.
"...They are hybrids. Even skeleton dragons do not have large litters."
Clutches. GB quietly corrected.
"Right- clutches. My bad. Regardless, would you not want what is best for them? Can you think of a better option?"

Saphira stared at him unblinkingly, a medley of emotions swirling behind her eyes. With a deep growl, she finally turned away.
Fine. I shall endure this. Her voice rang with fury, dripping with ire as her eyes lingered on the eggs behind the throne.

With a pained whine, she threw herself past the arch, tail scraping against the stone until she was crouched further up the tunnel.
Eragon hesitated, glancing around the room and back at his dragon.
"I-" He cut off, shaking his head.
Farewell. He said instead with his thoughts.

"We'll see you again." Blue murmured, turning to leave with him, GB close behind.
Goodbye. The skeleblaster called, glancing at the eggs as well.
Farewell, Shadeslayers. Whispered five minds.
Farewell, Brightscales. Farewell, Stareyes. Luck be with you.

With that, they followed Saphira past the Gate of Vergathos- forgetfulness. Abyss stood at the edge of the arch, watching them go as his currently ethereal form shifted about like kelp in an ocean current.