Time Period: Approximately 17 years after Destiny and 18 years after Niaomi

Location: Du Breoal Abr Kvaedheya, Alalëa

Characters from Destiny: Mahogany, Rosaminda, Renata, Brom

~ Mentioned Characters: Liress, Belinda, Ruby, Oromis, Niaomi, Nathan, Eragon & Saphira

Characters from DragonInk: Belle & Raugmar (created by moi), Verity & Shrewd (created by LydiaSparrow),  Adurnaë & Leafian (created by Lauren19997), Reona & Etyer (created by LydiaGiVi), Roslyn (created by RiderFirnen)

A/N: Here's the fifth entry for the DragonInk competition! Don't worry, Lana, barring no strange prompts, shall return in the next round! Enjoy it irregardless. And for those of you wondering about the dragon fairies mentioned in the last entry, I didn't forget about them; they just have yet to come into being.  (:)

Story:

Verity hadn't spoken to Reona since that day. Belinda Liressdóttir, the only child of Galbatorix and his enchanting Black Hand, examined the gedwëy ignasia on her left palm as she mused. Her lover hadn't needed to tell her the reason he wasn't speaking to the white-haired elf; it was clear that he believed Reona to have been the cause of the duel. She'd barely scratched Belle's cheek with her blade, but that cut was reason enough for Verity to side with his beloved. The girl herself stayed silent in the matter, torn between guilt for letting him believe the worst of his friend and elation for there being a rift between her love and her rival.

She knew what the right thing to do would be, but she could not bring herself to do it. How could she have let her temper get the best of her yet again? As Belle scowled up at the marbled ceiling, she felt her dragon's mind press against hers, alleviating the worst of her sour mood. But she didn't want him to make her feel better, because she didn't deserve -

Stop that, Raugmar ordered, his voice stern. You can't keep feeling sorry for yourself forever.

Says you, she retorted, picking up her left Ascûdgamln glove and shoving her hand through it.

Even though he was elsewhere, Belle knew that he'd snorted at her words. You are acting like a child, Belinda. If you want to do the right thing, then just do it. Stop being such a coward.

You stop being a coward!

I am a dragon.

Well, I'm not! I'm just a stupid human with stupid feelings and a stupid dragon!

Blocking off her connection to Raugmar, she pulled on her other glove as the guilt welled up further. Turning her face into the pillow, Belle gave herself the pleasure of one good scream before rising from her bed and storming over to the vanity table.

She examined her appearance in the mirror. Today, her tunic was a brilliant red that nearly matched Master Thorn's scales. Beneath its hem she wore white leggings and around her waist wore her dagger belt. Lashed to one side was Sundavr, and to the other was the bronze scrying mirror that Niaomi had let her keep.

Tucking her bangs back behind her ears, she took one last moment to study the thin line that ran across her right cheek. Verity had gone to heal it, but Belle had stayed his hand. She wanted to remember her duel with Reona, and left the faint scar as a reminder for what consequences her temper brought. Never again would she let it rule her.

Deciding she was appropriately dressed for the meeting, she tugged on her favorite pair of boots and left her room. She strolled down the hall, nodding at Roslyn as she passed her on the way to the stairs. The elf nodded back, her gray gaze softer than usual.

Belle briefly wondered at what had put her in such a mood as she took the stairs two at a time, her long braid whacking her back with each step. But she decided there was no time to dwell on the matter; if she didn't jog, she wouldn't make it down in time. Glancing at the statue of Vanilor that stood in the main parlor, she took a moment to reorient herself before heading off in what she hoped was the right direction.

This blasted library is too big, she grumbled silently. When Raugmar did not respond, Belle remembered the fight they'd had. Sighing, she lowered the walls around her mind to touch his. Forgive me?

He was quiet for a spell as she made her way past other rooms. Finally, the dragon sighed and told her, You take a left, not a right.

What would I do without you?

What I would do without you, small one.

No matter what, she always had Raugmar's love unconditionally. For a moment, Belle flirted with the idea of telling him the truth of her connection to her father's revival, but just then she reached the two rock columns that marked the entrance to the meeting room.

Walking into the spacious area, she immediately went to stand at her dragon's side. Verity and Shrewd were to his left, and the boy smiled at her before turning his attention back to the council. On his other side, quite a distance away, stood Etyer and Reona. The älfa did not even deign to look up at her arrival, but her dragon took the liberty of doing so. His icy eyes still managed to burn as he pinned her in place with his stare. It was only when Raugmar gave a low growl of warning that Etyer cast his gaze away.

Rosaminda cleared her throat, unnerved by the tension displayed between the Riders. According to her godsister, they all had to work together if they were to defeat Galbatorix for the second time. The generation that had done so previously were now council members - herself included - and Nia had said that that Galbatorix had cast wards preventing them from taking on the fight, relegating their task to mere guidance.

Smiling at the sight of Belle wearing the boots she'd given to her (as Rose always did), the blonde addressed the three young Riders. "You all are newly initiated into our order. In the past, we would wait several more months before assigning you with a mission, as well as having an older member escort you. However, circumstances have changed, and we no longer have the luxury of time. This is why we are entrusting you three to carry out these tasks."

She gestured to her fellow council members and said, "As you no doubt noticed, Oromis, Glaedr, Ruby, and Vervada are no longer residing here at Du Breoal Abr Kvaedheya: they have been called back to Alagaësia to assist in the instruction of the other Riders, along with Adurnaë and Leafian."

"Adurnaë's gone?" Belle interjected, shocked at the news. While she and the young elf didn't share a room here on Alalëa, she had still expected to see the redhead often.

"Their mission called them elsewhere," Renata answered before continuing her twin's explanation. "As does Verity's and Shrewd's. You two must journey back to your homeland and scout out the enemy, as well as search for Raugmar the First."

He still lives? Shrewd asked, his golden eyes gleaming.

The councilwoman nodded. "As far as we know. That is why he needs to be found."

"I've live in Diaval most my life, yet we've never seen a dragon...and it would be hard to hide a creature of his size," Verity said hesitantly, crossing his arms behind his emerald tunic.

"That's why my brother and Saphira shall accompany you on the search," Mahogany said, running a hand through her dark hair in a gesture her sister recognized as agitation. "You shall meet them at the northern edge of the Spine. Do you accept this mission, Verity of Diaval?"

There was no hesitation as he replied, "I do."

"And do you accept this mission, Shrewd of Carvahall?"

I do.

"Good." Maggie sighed in what seemed like relief, but for what, Belle didn't know. Had she really believed they'd say anything differently? "Now, Belle and Raugmar, this is your task: to journey to Vroengard, enter the Vault of Souls, and retrieve the soul of Brom the First."

She gaped at her sister's instructions. "Retrieve your father's soul?"

"Well, it's certainly not my son Brom's that needs retrieving." Maggie rolled her eyes as the girl continued to stand there, frozen in shock. "While Eragon retrieved all the Eldunarís from the Vault, he did not know how to bring the Riders as well. However, with the help of Cuaroc, you can do just that. But the gods shall only allow one person to be brought back from the grave, and it is only Brom who has a body to return to."

"But - but in order to enter, we have to know our true names! Wouldn't an elf be more suited to the task?" Belle couldn't bring herself to utter Reona's name.

However, her sister still got her meaning. "Reona and Etyer are needed elsewhere."

And where would that be, Mahogany-elda? asked the white dragon, surprising the girl by including her in his mental broadcast.

"While Belle retrieves Brom's soul, you and Reona shall be retrieving his body. Saphira managed to preserve him by turning his tomb to diamond, but it still needs to be cleansed of the poison that killed him and healed as well. As Ruby and Vervada's apprentices, you two are the best suited for this task."

"But since it is still a large endeavor to undertake, Maggie will be accompanying you," Rose interjected, ignoring the sharp glance her eldest cousin sent her way. "Do you accept this mission, Reona of the Fair Folk?"

"I do."

"And do you accept this mission, Etyer of Ellesméra?"

I do, rumbled the dragon.

Her cousin's blue eyes lit on her, but before she could speak, Belle hastily asked, "Has any other Rider and dragon received a task?"

"No other initiates save for Adurnaë and Leafian have been given missions," said Rose.

With a sinking heart, she realized that she couldn't ask to switch assignments with another Rider. Besides, they'd all been given to the pair that the council thought was best suited to the task. Raugmar was eager to visit the old home of the Riders and stretch his wings, but his Rider was unsure. She had to find her true name, after all - how much time did she even have?

"If possible, we would all meet up at Ellesméra a fortnight from now," Ren added, unknowingly answering Belle's unspoken question.

The girl's breath hitched in her throat. Only fourteen days for them to fly to Vroengard, discover their true names, collect Brom's soul, and make it back all the middle of Du Weldenvarden? It was an impossible task.

Nothing is unconquerable, Raugmar told her, echoing the words Nathan had said long ago. Remember that Eragon and Saphira managed to find their true names within a time limit as well.

But I'm not Eragon.

And I'm not Saphira. What is the point of stating the obvious? We are more than capable of finding our true names.

How do you know that? Belle demanded, hearing the conviction in her dragon's voice.

One large violet eye glittered down at her. I know because we have each other, and together we can accomplish anything.

He was right; he always was. So after he'd accepted the mission first, unlike the other two pairs that had gone before them, she looked her gray-eyed cousin in the eye and said the two words that sealed her fate:

"I do."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Warning to Reader: incoming Belity moment - brace yourselves for romance!

As the three young Riders exited the chamber through the hallways, Belle realized it was now that she had to right her wrong.

You always do in the end, small one, Raugmar said as he and the other dragons left through the larger side entrance, his voice infused with pride.

"Reona," she called to the elf, who stopped in her tracks. Verity was a step behind her, and Belle reached back to grab his hand for comfort. He stroked a finger along her bracelet of egg shards, reminding her that her dragon was always with her as well. "I'm sorry."

The Rider did not reply but did not move away either. After striding forwards a few more steps, the girl turned back to her lover and confessed, "You shouldn't be mad at her, Verity, for she did nothing wrong. It was I who incited her anger, and I who struck the first blow."

The fingers wrapping around her wrist paused as Verity's brow rose in surprise. "Why didn't you speak sooner?"

She flinched, as that was not the question she'd been expecting. Reona turned around to hear what she said as well, and Belle looked her in the eye as she answered since it was her who she spoke too. "I was jealous of how close you were, and how you were a much better suited pair. So I kept quiet at the rift that formed between you. My own selfishness and anger were what drove my actions, and none should be held accountable for what happened besides me. And I'm truly sorry for what I did, but not as sorry as I am for what I failed to do."

The elf gazed back with her slanted eyes, the swirling blue palette of her irises unreadable. Belle felt Verity's hand go slack in hers, and so she regrettably released it. He walked up to face Reona as he repeated his question to her. "Why didn't you speak sooner?"

Shrugging, the blonde cooly replied, "You had already chosen what to believe. Who was I to sway your decision?"

"My friend." The elf's eyes grew wide as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a hug. Reona felt warmth surge through her at the contact, and for a moment she didn't know what to do. But then, instinctually, her hands slid up his back to return the gesture, and she tucked her face into his broad shoulder. She smelt that heady masculine odor that was uniquely his, and as she closed her eyes, a discovery was made.

Reona was in love with Verity - her greatest ally, her best sparring partner, her closest...friend. She never wanted to let him go. In that moment, the elf knew that in the current situation - if she truly tried - she could sway his feelings. But just then, her eyes opened, and she saw Belle standing in front of her. Those dark eyes held hers, young and innocent and open. And them she made another discovery.

It didn't matter if she had the power to sway the boy's heart, for he would never be hers, and he could never love her the way he loved Belle - just as she could never love him the way the girl did.

So she pulled away from the hug, and Verity did the same. There was no feeling of loss, because Reona did not lose. All she felt was peace. And as her eyes trailed over Belle's face to see the scar she still wore from their duel, Reona knew that she'd made the right choice to, in this one instance, do something she never did: forgive.

"I should begin packing for my trip. And I'm sorry for what I said to you as well, Belle. I was wrong."

Belle watched as the elf walked away, feeling lighter at her words. She wanted to call her back and hug her as well, but she knew Reona was not one for those type of things. The fact that she'd hugged Verity back was amazing enough. Looking now at her lover, she swallowed past the growing lump in her throat as he walked up to stand before her. "I'm disappointed in you, Belinda."

"I-If you want to end things, I understand - "

"You impossibly naïve girl," he suddenly hissed, grabbing the back of her neck to press her forehead against his. "I'm disappointed in how little you seem to believe in my words. I said I loved you, and I do still. One mistake won't change that. I don't think any mistake could change that."

She couldn't hold his gaze as she squeezed her eyes shut to keep the tears from slipping loose. He moved his hand and raised the other so that her face was cradled in his rough palms, cool against her burning cheeks. Soft lips found hers, molding to their shape, and Belle slid her arms around his waist to hold him against her. Verity's heart pounded through his chest to call to her own, both of them racing at a beat only the other could bring.

And it was in that kiss, where he held her and loved her and completed her, that she found the first piece of her true name: words that meant Verity with words that meant love.

* * *

I've discovered it! Raugmar roared.

They'd arrived at Vroengard the morning before and set up camp at the base of Mount Erolas, with the Rock of Kuthian right beside them. Belle and Cuaroc, who'd been playing a game of mancala (which she was being thoroughly beaten in), glanced up in shock at his words.

"Really?" she asked aloud for the benefit the Eldunarí, equal parts impressed and jealous. Now that her dragon knew his name, only she was left.

He let loose a jet of black-tinged flames and spoke only to her. Really; would you like to hear it?

Well, duh.

Her slightly mocking comment had Raugmar stop his preening to glare. Humph. My true name is - And then he uttered a string of words that named his being and made his black hide shine with power.

Belle was amazed at how they could encompass all that he was: strong and resplendent, proud and young, inquisitive and brash, wise and brave. All his weaknesses and all his desires were in that true name, and suddenly his own didn't seem to fit him right. Raugmar was so much more than just...Raugmar; but then, hadn't he always been?

It's a name to be proud of, she told him now. What was missing from your last attempt?

He'd been fiddling with the words needed, reordering them and adding some. Unlike most dragons, he was quite aware that he - like all conscious creatures - had flaws, so his Rider had no idea what that missing link had been.

Repeating a segment that including herself and what she was to him, Raugmar pointing out the word second. It took her a minute to understand what it meant, and then she realized that it referred to how he was, technically speaking, Raugmar the Second. Belle reached over to where her dragon lay beside her and scratched the scales between his cheek spines. You'll always come first to me.

That's why "first" is placed with you in my name, he said, a deep rumble building in his chest. For what would I be without you?

What I would be without you.

Congratulations on discovering your true name, young one, Cuaroc said, ending their private conversation. Have you gotten any closer, Belinda?

"I haven't," she said on a sigh, leaning against Raugmar's flank as she stared up at the setting sun. What was missing from her string of words? She'd listed all her flaws: lack of confidence, low self esteem, worrying nature, fierce temper (when provoked, that was). She'd listed all her virtues: loyalty, beauty, understanding, power (which Raugmar had been the one to point out, much to her chagrin). She'd listed her personality points: curious, eccentric, awkward, enthusiastic. She'd added the love she gave and received to those she held in her heart: her dragon and her lover, her family and her friends. She'd even included her deepest desires and fears, of measuring up to a family of Riders and of conquering the dark. What else made her who she was?

Liress.

Stiffening at the word the dragon mentioned, Belle realized that she had not included her as a piece of herself. A stupid mistake, especially considering her full name was "Belinda Dröttningu Liressdóttir." But she knew why she hadn't included her mother. It wasn't enough to call herself Liress's daughter when she was truly Liress's orphan.

Pushing aside the flare of pain at that thought, she added it to the string of words and spoke them aloud. They made her stomach flip-flop, but it didn't strike that deep chord within her. The name still wasn't her name.

Cuaroc's ruby eyes examined her from his silver dragon head, considering. You are most certainly like Silvarí - I can sense the same call in your blood that was in hers.

Well, she'd already included a piece about her being an enchantress. "Wasn't she an elf?"

All enchantresses are humans with distant mythic ancestors. Some say they are the descendants of a siren and one of her victims.

Recalling the image of harpies, a siren's true form, Belle shuddered and hoped that it was merely a tale. Decided to put aside the problem of her true name for now, she asked the Eldunarí, "How many families of enchantresses were there?"

They have always been rare, but there were more once. Though your family is the only breoal left, at their height three centuries past, they numbered five-and-ten. Some thought them to be elves in disguise since they were so alluring, and Silvarí was from one of the families, the Yellovs, who actually assimilated themselves into the Fair Folk. The Nelsperd line and the Raif line also ended in this manner.

"What happened to the others?"

Five of the smaller families simply died out, either due to a lack of daughters with the gift or a lack of marriages. Two of the most powerful lineages, the Trendells and the Helfrangs, purposefully ended theirs by taking vows of abstinence and joining monasteries. Another two families joined together so that they would persist and became "Du Linda Breoal."

"'The Linda Family'..." she repeated in Runic, the tongue of humans. "My grandmother was Lady Eliana...do you know which breoal could be mine?"

If your granddam was a lady, the Lindas are the most likely answer, Cuaroc informed her, his metallic joints moving silently as he leaned back against a log. When Galbatorix rose to power, he tried to incorporate the remaining lineages into his fold, and they were the only one he managed to take hold of. The last three - the Grayhams, the Faros, and the Anas - escaped his grasp by mingling with the common people, disguising their power as merely witchcraft or sorcery.

Belle absorbed this information, wondering if any of the three lines still had enchantress blood. Her elder sister Maggie was their mother's heir, as she was just as powerful as Liress had been. Among their twin cousins, only Rose had been born with the gift. None of her daughters showed signs yet, but Ren's youngest was an enchantress to everyone's surprise, and a strong one at that to be identified so young. If the bloodline managed to continue despite skipping two generations (as the twins' mother, Belinda Elianasdóttir, had not been an enchantress), then Du Linda Breoal was very powerful.

She'd never known how significant her background was until becoming a Rider. Her mother had not just been the Black Hand; she'd been the descendant of a powerful line of mage women...and Belle was, too. But where her father was concerned -

The girl stifled a gasp. She wasn't just the daughter of an enchantress, she was the daughter of a king. "Belinda Dröttningu Liressdóttir", the heiress to the Empire, the lost princess. Liress may have left her an orphan, but Galbatorix had given her a parent. That was what was the piece of herself missing from the string of words. The piece that revealed the other half of her heritage - and the true connection between her and the black king.

What troubles you? Raugmar asked her as a single tear slid down her cheek.

"I found my true name."

Cuaroc came to attention at that, the edge of his scabbard scraping across the ground as he stood to his feet. Then let us enter Moraeta's Spire, and retrieve the soul of Brom.

Belle reluctantly did the same, at loathe to speak her truest of names aloud. Her dragon nuzzled her arm and ordered, Tell me.

It was time for her to come clean. And so, sharing her thoughts with only him, she mentally said her true name. A shiver rolled down her spine, and a wealth of sorrow rose up in Raugmar. Oh, small one...why did you not tell me sooner? How could you ever think I would turn you away?

She climbed up his leg so that she could sit in the saddle and hug his neck as he followed Cuaroc. I don't know. Maybe because I didn't want to admit the truth because a part of me still held hope that it was not.

You shall not die.

Raugmar -

I said that you shall not die, Belinda, he repeated fiercely. We will find another way to defeat Galbatorix that does not sacrifice you in the process.

But what if there is no other way?

Raugmar paused to swing his head around and stared at her with those magnificent purple eyes. Are you willing to sacrifice me?

What? Belle looked at him, appalled at even the idea. Never!

Because if you let yourself die, that's what you'll be doing. You know my true name - who would I be without you?

She simply buried her face into the darkest scales at the base of his neck, for the answer was clear. Without her, the dragon wouldn't be Raugmar. Just as without him, the girl wouldn't be Belle.

They reached the Rock of Kuthian, a dark jagged spire that stretched towards the clouds, and thought their true names. Cuaroc spoke his privately, while Belle and Raugmar kept their minds linked as they uttered theirs. Somehow, she felt even closer to her dragon as a line drew the golden glyphs and doors onto the Rock, which swung open to reveal a broad tunnel that burrowed downwards.

Cuaroc led the way, and she touched the side of the entryway before the doors shut behind them. Belle lit their path with a werelight that reminded her of home as they delved deeper and deeper into the earth, and she was thankful for the light it cast to keep the darkness at bay. She released her hold on the magic as a warm light grew ahead of them, illuminating a huge black arch with sculpted glyphs - the Gate of Vergathos - that led to a chamber with slate floors.

A burning scent filled her nose, and below her Raugmar sneezed once. The shield on Cuaroc's back flashed as he stepped into the oppressively hot room. He strode towards the hole at its very center, and Belle dismounted so that she could peer down into its depths as well. Nearly a hundred feet below was a churning pool of molten rock that was only the beginning of the center of their world. Within its fiery gold and amber depths, she saw flickers of white, as fast and rapid as the spirits she'd read about in her books.

What are those things? Raugmar asked, his breath fanning her bangs as he craned his neck above her.

The souls of the Riders, Cuaroc said, stepping back from the edge of the hole. He raised one clawed hand and unlatched his breast plate, pulling it open to reveal a purple Eldunarí resting inside, connected to a web of silvery hair thin wires. Now comes the hardest part of your task, Belinda. You must remove me from the metal and put Brom's soul in my place.

"How?" she said aloud, trepidation rising within her.

Using your power as an enchantress. Many believe that the gift can only sway the hearts of men, but that is a common misconception. Enchantresses are not limited to only males, and they do not take control of one's heart. Rather, they capture and entice the soul; this is why enchantresses were also the most adept at sorcery, which has come to be seen by some as a female's art.

"We're that powerful?" Belle whispered in awe.

Cuaroc nodded, his pointed teeth clacking together at the motion. The most powerful were known to be able to command legions. Some of the most beloved queens in human history were gift-less daughters, who still have great beauty and charm even though the blood had passed them.

That much she knew was true: her namesake and late aunt had been called "Belinda the Beautiful". Briefly, she wondered if she'd ever a title herself. Since Maggie just went by their last name (for simplicity's sake was the reason she always gave), Belle would have to make a name for herself.

The Eldunarí continued his explanation. Silvarí used her powers to design a set of spells to connect my consciousness to this body: they are the wires that you see before you. I will direct you in how to remove me and put Brom in my place.

You are more than strong enough, Raugmar added, and with his words the Rider agreed to undertake the endeavor.

In a slow, arduous process, she removed the Eldunarí and gently set him down to rest between Raugmar's forepaws. Then, uttering the spell the old dragon had taught her, Belle called the soul of Brom to her.

Nothing happened when she first began chanting, but Cuaroc had told her to expect that. She kept it up, and then the lights in the magma below began moving faster. One in particular began to shine brightly, rising from the boiling sea of rock to hover in front of her face. Its brilliance forced her eyes to narrow, and it condensed into a ball much like the werelights from the swamp back in Aroughs.

Stretching out her hands, Belle carefully guided the soul with her voice and fingers to fill the chamber inside the empty body. Reciting the same spell her predecessor Silvarí had used (while substituting Brom's name in the place of Cuaroc's), she connecting the Rider's soul to the metal avatar. After she was done, there was nothing left to do but shut the chest closed and wait.

Minutes ticked by, and the girl began to worry that she hadn't done the spell correctly. Had she mispronounced a word? Had she forgotten one entirely? Before she could drive herself mad with her questioning, the whirring of gears came from the avatar as it raised its dragon head and looked at her through the gemstones that were its eyes.

Belle cleared her throat nervously before saying in the ancient language, "Um, hello. My name is Belinda Liressdóttir, and I'm a Rider like you. The dragon behind me is my Raugmar, and the Eldunarí at his feet is Cuaroc. It's been about ten-and-seven years since the Ra'zac killed you. Galbatorix was defeated more than a decade past, but like you, he was brought back to life. The gods allowed the Order to revive an old Rider for our side so that we would have a better chance of defeating the black king."

Brom did not react to her words in anyway, giving no sign if he'd even heard her. She was at a loss of what to do next. "So, uh, everything's probably really disorienting for you, but we're working on getting your body back in shape for your soul. Right now, you're in an avatar made by Silvarí the Enchatress. I'm an enchantress, too."

Finally, the jaw opened as a rough voice not meant for speaking growled in Runic, "Why?"

The girl switched her tongue to match his. "Why what?"

"Why was I brought back?"

"Because we need you," Belle answered promptly. "Maggie and Eragon...your children...they need you."

"Maggie?" Brom said questioningly as he began flexing his new muscles.

"Your daughter - the one you had with Liress, the former Black Hand."

"So she had a child, eh?" A rumbling sound rose in his throat that she realized was a laugh. "You said you were her daughter, too. Aren't you a bit young to be mine? Unless this is the second time I've been brought back to life."

She couldn't help but giggle at the crankiness in his tone. "Oh, no. Maggie's only my half-sister."

"What kind of name is Maggie?" Brom grumbled, pacing a few steps as he tapped his thighs. "And what sort of contraption is this?"

"It's made of silver. And Maggie is short for Mahogany."

"What kind of name is Mahogany? Is it because she's as boring as a lump of wood?"

"No," she protested, affronted on behalf of her sister. "Maggie's amazing. She's a member of the Rider council, and - "

"A Rider, eh?" he interrupted, examining their surroundings. "Guess the boy made it without me after all. Good lad."

Well met, Brom Holcombsson, Slayer of the Forsworn and founder of the Varden, the once purple dragon greeted. We must make haste and answer your questions on our journey back to Ellesméra.

"Alright. But how am I supposed to get there? This entirely too bulky contraption doesn't seem to have any wings."

Now it was Cuaroc who was affronted. That "contraption" is one of the greatest works of magic and machinery ever built. It served me well for over a century, and -

Brom cut off the dragon with, "I thought there wasn't time for chit chat?"

Raugmar bared his teeth in a grin. I think I'm going to like you, Brom-elder-elda. Do not fear, for I am strong enough to carry you to the elves' forest.

"Plenty of fear that you'll drop me." Even with that dragon's voice, he still sounded just like the crotchety old man Eragon had described him to be. "Best get on with it, irregardless. The sooner we leave, the sooner I can have a real body."

He began walking towards the Gate of Vergathos, and Belle picked up Cuaroc before hastily catching up. Peering up at the tall avatar, she realized that she hadn't been too respectful. "It's an honor to meet you, Brom-elda. I've heard your epic sung many a time."

Grunting in response, Brom said nothing, and so they walked in silence after she'd cast another werelight. Finally, as they neared the end of their steep climb (which had left her winded), the man uttered one sentence.

"So...tell me about this daughter of mine."