Arya

Summer Blues (Eragon Drabble)

Eragon gazed out into the seemingly endless ocean, a solemn expression on his face. Saphira, his dragon, was flying fast, her talons skimming the waves, keeping an eye out for any movements under the water. Sensing his mood, she twisted her head round to communicate with him.

"I'm sorry about Ayra. You knew that it was never an obvious match, Eragon."

A tear trickled down his cheek, and he wiped it away, furious at himself for letting Saphira know that he still cared. He was trying to not think about the elf who had broken his heart. He couldn't afford to be distracted this autumn- he had a new batch of Riders to train.

Each time he asked her to marry him this Summer she turned him down. She had never been cold to him before. His heart ached as he remembered her haughty expression, the last time he'd asked. She had told him to stay away or to face her wrath. This still haunted him, days afterwards.

Another tear betrayed him, slipping down his cheek, then another. Soon, he was unable to stop himself from weeping for that which could have been.

For that which should have been.