Nightmare placed another book from his vast inventory on the shelf recessed into the wall of his room, feeling at home with the several hundred books ranging across the genres around him. He was lucky he always kept his books in his inventory. They stayed with him when he fell into the Void. In a way, that meant a huge chunk of history from across the Multiverse had been saved- by him, it would survive in Alagaësia. He would have Error copy their code later, so he could keep this library and still have them in his inventory as well.

There was a knock on the door. Confused, Nightmare glanced in it's direction, realizing he wasn't familiar with the aura on the other side. Straightening, he faced the new mind and opened the door with blue magic.

It was a strange, pale orange fire elemental with piercing blue eyes and a dark red and gold dress with long sleeves that ended at the knees.

"Hello, Nightmare! I've been waiting for you." She spoke pleasantly.
"Who are you?" He questioned suspiciously.
"No one of importance here." She waved her hand. "I wanted to tell you about Tronjhiem and all that. Do you mind?" She gestured outside. Nightmare tensely left the room, locking the door behind him with the key he'd found.
"Well?" He asked, noting that Error was there, looking a little dazed and confused.

"Geez, why so edgy with me." It wasn't really a question. "Relax, Alalëa. Alagaësia has accepted you."
"How did you know that?" She snirked. "I know everything, Zíllandr Cicállaé." She said drily. "Just trust me. Can ya trust someone for once?"
He balked at her knowledge, but remained silent. She waved her hand and began walking.

"Don't you want to know more about Tronjhiem and the Varden?"
"Sure, but I have yet to know your name."
With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she looked at him. "Which one?" Nightmare glared. "A name. I don't care which one you want." She tsked. "Takin' all the fun outta it. Call me Sinead." They were going downstairs, reaching the floor below. Sinead paused at the landing. "Well? Any questions?"

"Fine, I'll bite. Why is most of Tronjhiem abandoned?" Error asked. She tilted her head. "Well, Orik explained that dwarves prefer to live fully underground. But I should elaborate. It's been argued that Tronjhiem should just be deserted entirely, for it's only a drain on outside resources. But it does serve a purpose. In times of rauthr, misfortune, it can literally contain the whole of the dwarf nation. And it has been used to do exactly that in the past. Three times. And each time, it saved the Dvergrya from total annihilation. So they always keep it garrisoned. Magnificent, isn't it?"

They blinked. "What the hell was the danger?" Error muttered. "Never mind, I don't want to know." "How many humans in the Varden are here?" Nightmare quested. "Ah, that is a little more depressing!" She said in a deceptively light voice. Then she sighed. "Four thousand men and women are in Tronjhiem, though it's only the people who are willing to fight. All the rest are under King Orrin's protection down in Surda. Hot place. My kinda place. Ahem. Anyway, don't worry about the small numbers, Orrin promised troops for the direct assult, as have the elves and the dwarves."

"That sounds like a lot." Error mumbled. "It is. Should be enough to stand against Galbatorix's army, the Royal Army being about 16 thousand." They frowned. Those were indeed unpleasant numbers. Then Error pointed out. "Why doesn't Galbatorix attack Surda himself? Or Surda show open hostility? Is it cowardly, or just lazy?" He started harsh, but his tone lost it's edge at the end.

"Because he sees them as a minor threat, which they rely on. As it is, Orrin supply's the Varden with food and weapons, particularly nonperishables. Galbatorix would end them if they tried attacking him as of now."
"Hhmm."

Error glanced down at the distant floor. Both skeletons were thinking as Sinead leaned against the wall. The glitch pointed down at the floor, then pulled himself up and faced the fire elemental. "What's with the engraving down there? It was on Orik's hat, too." Nightmare peeked over the railing to see what the other spoke about.

"That, is the symbol of Orik's clan. Dûrgrimst Ingietum. Metalworkers and master smiths. That hammer and stars is there because it's also the personal crest of their founder; a dwarf named Korgan. One clan chief elected as king, twelve other clans around. The current king is Hrothgar, he's also part of Ingietum."

Suddenly, whoops and yells sounded above their skulls, and both Error and Nightmare looked up in confusion at the excitement. Suddenly, a blue and white blur shot past them on the slide carved into the stairs, a familiar voice giggling maniacally. The clamouring wasn't far behind.
"What the hell is happening?" Error demanded.

"Sinead sighed into her hand. "Thank God they're not so tall, especially Blue. They're playing on the Vol Turin. It's a slide built for emergencies..."
"It is safe, right?" Error glanced at her worryingly.
"For you guys, pretty much. Even if you were thrown out, you can always teleport to safety or catch each other."

Dust and Red came sliding past, Red yelling furiously and Dust laughing like the maniac he was. It looked like he'd pushed Red onto the slide before jumping in himself. Killer and Chaos weren't far behind, the Temmie screaming in excitement as Killer laughed crazily.

"Well it definitely proves they're all children." Nightmare snorted, actually smiling. They both chuckled, staring over the railing to watch Blue come sliding out at the bottom, drifting halfway across the floor.
"Did you have fun?" Error called down. The energetic skeleton looked up, found them, and grinned whilest giving a thumbs up.

Red and Dust came out next, the maniac giggles echoing throughout the city-mountain. Red stood up and punched him, Dust covering his skull and wheezing like he was tickled.

Killer, a silent Killer, slid out and quietly barreled into Red like a bowling ball, knocking the other over like a pin before erupting into hysterics. Red let out a string of expletives while Chaos banged on the floor with tears in her eyes.

With a yell, Blue took off up the stairs. "I'M GOING AGAIN!!" He yelled. "Just teleport, ya weirdo!" Dust called after him. "NEVER! MWEH HEH HEH!" His incredible speed already took him halfway up to the top again.

The pair of skeletons watched as he zoomed past them, grinning despite themselves. Other people had started drifting into the chamber at the bottom and first few floors, baffled by the noise. A few dwafves started a very concerned conversation with Killer and Chaos, the two just shrugging carelessly as the skeleton teleported the Temmie away.

"HEY RED!" Dust yelled, running at the other. Red spun, irritated, only to be body-slammed into a portal Dust had opened. His eyelight flared in his namesake, as he was royally pissed off at the situation. "SON OF A BITCH-!" His shout was cut off as he landed at the top of Vol Turin once more.

Error was laughing his non-existent ass off, snickering chaotically as the boys went sliding down the Vol Turin again. Nightmare smiled even more, because Error's weight was falling off, letting out a side of the glitch rarely ever seen. With a joyous gleam in his eyelights, Error glanced back at him. Nightmare grinned.

Everyone was happy. They were all happy, and for once, that made Nightmare happy. It took some of the weight off him, the weight of his own power in this world. It felt nice. Having this sort of family moment, as dysfunctional as it was. A real, genuine smile spread across his face as he just enjoyed the seconds before it expired.

A werecat appeared, running down the stairs and bounding down the hallway as Eragon showed up not far behind. He was smiling as he glanced at the slide, but racing to keep up with the mammal. Both headed down the hall, Nightmare and Error sharing a look before chasing after the two in curiosity.

The screams and laughter faded behind them as they ran through the corridors casually, Eragon seeming unable to keep up, despite the other two hardly putting on speed at all.

The cat paused at a single door and meowed loudly, said door opening to let him in. It closed behind the werecat. They all paused at the door as well, confused.
"Uh... mrow?" Error tried. A loud guffaw sounded behind the trio. Sinead was leaning, one hand on the wall as she snorted.

"Good one!" She snickered. "But come on, we don't have all day." She waved casually before walking through the closed door. All three of them gawked, then it opened.

It was a two-room suite with an earthy interior, decorated with wood carvings and plants all over the place, climbing up the walls. The air was reminiscent of a rainforest, or perhaps, Waterfall. Strange things were piled carelessly all over the floor. The four-poster bed in the other room had leafy curtains, as they were plants as well. How they grew without sunlight was beyond any of them, unless it was a form of magic. In the center of the messy room sat a human with wild black hair, smiling as she waited for them.

"What are you doing here?" Eragon burst, recognition in his eyes. She folded her hands, sitting them in her lap as she spoke. "Well why don't you sit on the floor and I'll tell you? I'd offer you a chair, but I'm sitting on the only one."

Eragon situated himself between two cauldrons with a possibly lethal potion inside while Error plopped beside him, dipping a phalange experimentally into the brew and tasting the liquid when his finger didn't dissolve. He recoiled in disgust.

Sinead appeared from the other room, a hand on her hip and a cup in the other. She raised an eyebrow at him. "That's poisonous, y'know." Error shrugged. "I'm immune to poison." "Still, try not to do that?" She smirked, shaking her head. "Sanses." She leaned into the human's chair as she sipped whatever was in the cup, much to the skeleton's shock. How did a fire elemental drink any form of liquid?

"So!" The human exclaimed, leaning forward in eagerness. "You are a Rider. I suspected as much, but didn't know for certain until yesterday. And the tales of the Sanses I've heard! Are you really Judges of the Soul?" She addressed the other two. Nightmare looked at Error in confusion as the glitch shrugged. "More or less."

"Is it true that you can move between worlds?" "Yes, it was called the Multiverse. We can't leave Alagaësia, though, so I guess it's no longer true?" Error answered. She sat back, contemplative. "I wonder what the Yang is like. I've heard so much."

Nightmare and Error both darkened. "Best we don't discuss them." Nightmare spoke with a controlled tone. She hesitated, then nodded. "Yes, I suppose it's for the best." Sinead gestured with her cup. "Yes. Save Dream for when you meet him again." The King of Negativity crossed his arms. "You seem quite assured that he is going to appear."

She grinned. "Oh, that's only because he's already here." She winked. Nightmare stiffened. "If he were, I would have sensed him."
"Not with how weak and far away he is, you don't. Relax. You are needed here, Alalëa. Islingr is currently useful on the opposite side of the continent."

Nightmare glared at the mysterious fire elemental, then slowly settled back, thinking rapidly as he continued to watch Sinead. Then she nodded at the human. "Go ahead and catch up, Angela, Eragon. I'll be helping Geno and Horror." She disappeared in a wisp of flame and embers. "Oh, so now she can teleport, too." Error scoffed. "Helping them? With what?" Nightmare questioned. The human now known as Angela shrugged. "No idea! But I'm sure we'll all find out later."

She laced her fingers together, staring at them curiously. Then addressed Eragon after considering the skeletons.
"I should have figured it out the moment you mentioned Brom you were a Rider. Saphira.... I like the name- fitting for a dragon."
"Brom's dead." Eragon said sharply. "The Ra'zac killed him."

She recoiled, distraught as Nightmare gripped the human's shoulder gently.
"I'm sorry. I truly am." She mumured. Eragon's smile was tight, fake. "But not surprised, are you? You foretold his death, after all."
"I didn't know whose death it would be." She shook her head. "But no... I'm not surprised. I met Brom once or twice. He didn't care for my 'frivolous' attitude toward magic. It irritated him." Now Eragon frowned. "In Teirm you laughed at his fate and said that it was something of a joke. Why?"

She cringed for a second. "In retrospect, it was in rather bad taste, but I didn't know what would befall him. How do I put this?... Brom was cursed in a way. It was his wyrd to fail at all of his tasks except one, although through no fault of his own. He was chosen as a Rider, but his dragon was killed. He loved a woman, but it was his affection that was her undoing. And he was chosen, I assume, to guard and train you, but in the end he failed at that as well. The only thing he succeeded at was killing Morzan, and a greater deed he couldn't have done."

"Brom never mentioned a woman to me." Eragon commented.
"Of course he loved a woman." Nightmare and Error responded simultaneously, staring at Eragon with wide sockets. The Rider shifted uncomfortably under their gaze. "And his bloodline will give him the greatest legacy he could ever wish for in all of Alagaësia." Angela snatched up some reeds and began weaving them. "You mean to tell me you think he had children?"
"We don't know about children plural,-" "I don't believe he did,-" "But he certainly had one child." "And that kiddo is definitely leaving a legacy." Error finished as they spoke in turn.

Angela's eyes widened as she realized they were talking about Eragon, but wisely, she kept her mouth shut. The Dragon Rider stared at all of them one at a time before sighing. "All right. So why are you in Tronjhiem instead of Teirm?" Eragon asked the human.

"Ah, at last an interesting question. After hearing Brom's name again during your visit, I sensed a return of the past in Alagaësia. People were whispering that the Empire was hunting a Rider. I knew then that the Varden's egg must have hatched, so I closed my shop and set out to learn more."
"You knew about the egg?"
"Of course I did. I'm not an idiot. I've been around much longer than you would believe. Very little happens that I don't know about." She stopped briefly to keep weaving. "Anyway, I knew I had to get to the Varden as fast as possible. I've been here for nearly a month now, though I really don't care for this place- it's far too musty for my taste. And everyone in Farthen Dûr is so serious and noble. They're probably all doomed to tragic deaths anyway." She let out a sigh, making a face. "The only redeeming aspect of this place is all the mushrooms and fungi that grow inside Farthen Dûr."

"Then why stay?" Eragon asked as Nightmare and Error glanced at each other sadly, knowing that the tragic deaths were sooner than they thought.
"Because I like to be wherever important events are occurring." She tilted her head at him. "Besides, if I had stayed in Teirm, Solembum would have left without me, and I enjoy his company. But tell me, what adventures have befallen you three since we last met and you fell here?"

The trio of skeletons and human retold their tale, a little set off by her reaction to Murtaugh. Later, the werecat jumped into her lap and curled up, kneading the air for a moment before eyeing them as Angela pet him.

"Fascinating. Galbatorix allied with the Urgals, and Murtaugh finally out in the open... I'd warn you to be careful with Murtaugh, but you're obviously aware of the danger."
"Murtaugh has been a steadfast friend and an unwavering ally." Eragon addressed her sternly. Nightmare nodded, not having anything to add to that. Error scoffed in annoyance.
"All the same, be careful."

She paused, her face twisting into a scowl. "And then there's the the matter of this Shade, Durza. I think he's the greatest threat to the Varden right now, aside from Galbatorix. I loathe Shades- they practice the most unholy magic, after necromancy. I'd like to dig his heart out with a dull hairpin and feed it to a pig!" She spat.

They were surprised by her sudden rage. "I don't understand." Eragon said. "Brom told me that Shades were sorcerers who used spirits to accomplish their will, but why does that make them so evil?"
The woman shook her head. "It doesn't. Ordinary sorcerers are just that, ordinary- neither better nor worse than the rest of us. They use their magical strength to control spirits and the spirits' powers. Shades, however, relinquish that control in their search for greater power and allow their bodies to be controlled by spirits. Unfortunately, only the evilest spirits seek to possess humans, and once ensconced they never leave. Such possession can happen by accident if a sorcerer summons a spirit stronger than himself. The problem is, once a Shade is created, it's terribly difficult to kill. As I'm sure you know, only two people, Laetri the Elf and Irnstad the Rider, ever survived that feat."

Eragon dipped his head. "I've heard the stories." He glanced around the room. "Why are you living so high up in Tronjhiem? Isn't it inconvenient being this isolated? And how did you get all this stuff up here?"
She laughed loudly. "Truthfully? I'm in hiding. When I first came to Tronjhiem, I had a few days of peace- until one of the guards who let me in blabbed about who I was. Then all of the magic users here, though they barely rate the term, pestered me to join their secret group. Especially those drajl Twins who control it. Finally, I threatened to turn the lot of them into toads, excuse me, frogs, but when that didn't deter them, I sneaked up here in the middle of the night. It was less work than you might imagine, especially for one with my skills."

Nightmare felt a strange aspect rise in her aura. This human was not what she seemed.

"Did you have to let the Twins into your mind before you were allowed into Farthen Dûr?" Eragon quested. A strange light shone in Angela's eyes. "The Twins wouldn't dare probe me, for fear of what I might do to them. Oh, they'd love to, but they know the effort would leave them broken and gibbering nonsense. I've been coming here long before the Varden began examining people's minds... and they're not about to start on me now."

She peeked into the other room and clapped her hands. "Well! This has been an enlightening talk, but I'm afraid you have to go now. My brew of mandrake root and newt's tongue is about to boil, and it needs attending. Do not come back again when you have the time. And please don't tell anyone that I'm here. I'd hate to have to move again. It would make me very... irritated. And you don't want to see me irritated!"

Both skeletons chuckled as all three of them promised to keep it a secret. "Good!" She smiled brightly, turning away as the cat, Solembum, led them back to the stairs and to what must have been the dragonhold. At the top was Fresh skating around, chatting casually with a serious dwarf that noticed the trio immediately. They also noted that Fresh was speaking Dwarvish.

"Sup, my radical brotato chip an' broskis! This rad dvergr dude here be lookin' for ya! Some real kingly business, yo! Anyways, catch ya on da flipside! Laters!" He turned his board and started skating down the Vol Turin.

The dwarf bowed deeply at each of them and spoke thickly. "Good. Awake. Knurla Orik waits for you." He took off elsewhere. "Well that happened." Error commented as Saphira leapt out of a marble cave, landing gracefully before them. She bore Zar'roc in her talons.

Wear it. She told her Rider. You are a Rider and should bear a Rider's sword. Zar'roc may have a bloody history, but that should not shape your actions. Forge a new history for it, and carry it with pride.
Eragon spoke mentally to her and she snorted a puff of smoke. Wear it, Eragon. If you wish to remain above the forces here, do not let anyone's disapproval dictate your actions.
Eragon took the sword, then climbed onto the dragon.
"You coming?" He asked Nightmare and Error.

"We are expected as well, Shur'tugal. Go on ahead, we'll follow." Nightmare told him, realizing too late he'd slipped into the Ancient Language once again. Saphira dipped her head at them before launching herself off the Isidar Mithrim to drift down to the base of Tronjhiem.

"Boss, I heard most kings here have guards and escorts. So, um, can I join you? As an escort! You can guard yourself just fine, sir!" Cross spoke up behind them. Red appeared behind the monochrome skeleton, looking like he had a similar idea for a different reason.

"Sure. Come along, you two." He waved them over as he teleported atop his black Blaster with a single, cold blue eyelight staring at them. "Don't be so tense, you're both great ways to show off our strength." Error assured them as he copied Nightmare's action.

So they relaxed, the now-appointed escorts for Nightmare and Error, though mostly Nightmare, hopped onto their Blasters and the four of them hovered down to where Saphira landed besides Orik. The dwarf spoke up. "My king Hrothgar, wishes to see all of you. We must hurry."

They followed the dwarf into the city-mountain, only Eragon struggling to keep up. "Where shall we meet?" Nightmare asked in a friendly tone. "In the throne room beneath the city. It will be a private audience as an act of otho- of 'faith'. You do not have to address him in any special manner, but speak to him respectfully. Hrothgar is quick to anger, but he is wise and sees keenly into the minds of men, so think carefully before you speak." Orik advised.

They entered Tronjhiem's central chamber, Blueberry pausing on the stairs to glance at them questioningly as Dust and Killer teleported off Vol Turin and beside the group. Chaos appeared behind Error, bouncing excitedly as she whispered frantically. "What's goin' on, Boss?" Dust asked.

"We're requested to meet Hrothgar. It would be best you didn't goof off in his presence should you decide to come." Nightmare stared hard at his boys. Dust shrugged and started walking away while Killer glanced back at him. Blue came up and dragged the pair by their sleeves after the King of Negativity, God of Destruction, dwarf, dragon and Dragon Rider. "He is a leader and host of Tronjhiem, it is rude not to meet him if requested!"

They were already at the base of the stairs, in front of a pair of granite doors with that same crown engraved upon both of them. As the company approached, the seven dwarven guards beat the floor with mattocks and the doors opened inward, revealing a natural cave.

It was cast in a moody light with the magical lanterns, statues of ancient kings of old with shadowed faces staring blankly into the unknown. Orik left the Rider, Dragon, and the Wyrdaí Islingrya to continue on alone.
"The King awaits you."

The doors shut behind them, leaving the group to peer around the interesting throne room. The normally rude and uproarious team was quiet, enthralled by the design of the room and the long-dead dwarf king's likenesses carved into stone. Chaos was translating the archaic runes of the names. Who knew the Temmie could read Dwarvish?

The King himself sat upon a cold, hard throne of black marble, the seat angular and without decor. It was an old seat of power. It certainly symbolised the great age of the dwarven race. Nightmare admired it, for it was clearly uncomfortable; and the reason was obvious and noble.
I should have been a better King. He silently admitted. He felt so horrendous compared to this man, when he was from a world, many worlds, where the king put his people first. Nightmare had been such a wicked, dispicable leader. He'd taken the title purely out of ego. But now, he was going to be a real king. Not that slovenly thing that yelled at it's subjects due to an extremely short temper. Patient, understanding, respectful, tolerant. Everything he once was not.
For this wasn't the Multiverse anymore.

This is Alagaësia.

The stony figure sitting atop his dark throne studied them. His sharp gaze was inlaid into his face, strong chest encased within a mail shirt, long white beard tucked into his belt as a warhammer with the symbol of the Dûrgrimst Ingietum upon it's head sat in his lap. The weapon had an ancient aura around it, perhaps close to Nightmare's own age. Eragon, unsure of what to do, bowed and knelt before the king.

Error raised a non-existent eyebrow at the action, Nightmare tilting his skull at the human. Hrothgar shifted slowly, his deep voice arising from his frame. "Rise, Rider, skeletons, you need not pay tribute to me." Nightmare glanced back to see Blue and Cross getting up awkwardly.
The old dwarf king stared at them as they did the same.

" z knurl deimi lanok. Beware, the rock changes- an old dictum of ours. And nowadays the rock changes very fast indeed." He traced the hammer with his fingers.
"I could not meet with you earlier, as Ajihad did, because I was forced to deal with my enemies within the clans. They demanded I deny you sanctuary and expel you from Farthen Dûr. It has taken much work on my part to convince them otherwise."

"You have our thanks, King Hrothgar. On behalf of my people and others of monsterkind you have sheltered here, I am grateful. We are still new to Alagaësia, we understand our presence causes difficulties and apologize for your struggles. Though, I presume it was more of an issue of a dragon in Farthen Dûr you had to argue against?" Nightmare asked respectfully.
"I didn't anticipate how much strife our arrival would cause." Eragon added, concerned.

Hrothgar ran his fingers through his beard, accepting the words. "Indeed, you etalthargen have our people afraid. You are enshrouded in mystery, with your power and goals still unknown to us and the Rider seemingly on your side. We knurlan are curious, but guarded. So I tell you this." He pointed his aged finger down the hall.

"Look well, Rider Eragon, King Nightmare, and Lord Error. Witness my predecessors sitting upon their graven thrones. One and forty there are, with myself their forty-second. When I pass from this world into the care of the gods, my hírna will be added to their ranks. The first statue is in the likeness of my ancestor Korgan, who forged this mace, Volund. For eight millennia- since the dawn of our race- dwarves have ruled under Farthen Dûr. We are the bones of the land, older than both the elves and the savage dragons." Saphira shifted in place at that mention.

The dwarf king leaned towards them in his seat, voice deep and weary. "I am old, human and skeletons- even by our reckoning- old enough to have seen the Riders in all of their fleeting glory, old enough to have spoken with their last leader, Vrael, who paid tribute to me within these very walls. Few are still alive who can claim that much. I remember the Riders and how they meddled in our affairs. I also remember the peace they kept that made it possible to walk unharmed from Tronjhiem to Narda."

Hrothgar paused. "And now you stand before me- a lost tradition revived with a new race from beyond the mortal realm by your side. Tell me, Rider and fleshless ones, why have you come to Farthen Dûr? I know of the events that made you flee the Empire, but what are your intentions now?"

Eragon fumbled before speaking. "For now, Saphira and I merely want to recuperate in Tronjhiem, with the Wyrdaí Islingrya should they still choose to. We are not here to cause trouble, only to find sanctuary from the dangers we've faced for many months. Ajihad may send us to the elves, but until he does, we have no wish to leave."

"We; as the two parties of Wyrdaí Islingrya, have Eragon as our priority solely to defeat Galbatorix and secure a future for ourselves and others of monsterkind scattered throughout Alagaësia. We have no other intentions for Eragon otherwise, except keeping him on his path as a Rider. We do not want him for ourselves, we only want to help him. Where Eragon will go next, we will follow. Although as there are two main parties, and the Varden has similar interests, some of us may remain with the Varden. Personally, I will travel with Eragon to the elves when the time comes."

Hrothgar regarded them thoughtfully. Then addressed Eragon first. "Was it only your desire for safety that drove you? Do you seek to live here and forget your troubles with the Empire?"

Eragon shook his head vigorously. "If Ajihad told you of my past, you should know that I have grievances enough to fight the Empire until it is nothing but scattered ashes. More than that, though... I want to aid those who cannot escape Galbatorix, including my cousin. I have the strength to help, so I must."

A pause. Hrothgar was satisfied with that response. He turned to the Wyrdaí Islingrya. "And you? What of these parties you have in your number?"
Nightmare dipped his skull as Error stood beside him, the others filtering to gather around those they followed more, which was mostly just Chaos and Blue with Error.

"Not all of us are here. Some of our company were busy elsewhere in Tronjhiem, and some of us sense more of our people scattered throughout Alagaësia, as we've mentioned before. It's possible other parties are appearing without our knowledge, but as we are now it is us. Eldjierdar and Wyrdvrangr, both with the general goal of ending Galbatorix's reign, just different side missions." Error explained.

"Wyrdvrangr are dead set on watching over Eragon, but Eldjierdar are willing to stay behind with the Varden to assist with other matters. Although I do believe Nightmare is the better negotiator, I am more of an attack first, questions later type." Error admitted, glancing at Blue.

"That is not something I was expecting to be admitted here today." Hrothgar commented with a raised eyebrow.
"Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not the most familiar with social norms. I was isolated for centuries with my only contact with others being destroying their Universe or pain." Error explained bluntly.

"I don't think I've been well introduced. I am Error, former forced God of Destruction. When we landed in Alagaësia I was freed from my curse. Although now the God of Creation, Ink, runs rampant without control in our old home. He will create too much and all those worlds will crash into one another and destroy everything. Fortunately for you, Alagaësia is not part of that and will be safe. Unfortunately, it's likely all monsters from our Multiverse will be sent here. We are still discussing what we can do with all those monsters. Alagaësia cannot fit monsterkind with all the other races. So yes, it's ideal we rid Alagaësia of Galbatorix to ensure he will not commit atrocities with our kinds. You don't want to see how our magic can combine with yours, not by his hands."

He had his hands in his pockets, tear-streaks glowing a good deal brighter than usual. Hrothgar leaned back in his seat, face unreadable. After a long moment, he spoke.
"So you claim to be a god?"

"I'm not the only god where I'm from. But I'm one of the main physical gods, yes. Nightmare here is a little more minor, like Reaper's level. Reaper being the god of death. We know he is also somewhere in Alagaësia, and we need to find him soon. He kills everything he touches with few exceptions, and it is by no fault of his own. The only one who isn't a god that can touch him is Geno and Fresh, Geno being too determined to die and Fresh for reasons I'll keep to myself at the moment."

Nightmare regarded Error. He had no idea the glitch considered him a god, but it did make sense. Hrothgar was a little tense when he next spoke. "If you are gods, do you require worship?" He was wary.

"No. I was beaten and tortured by most back home, worship is not something I'd appreciate.." Error looked away modestly, glitching.
"I don't look for worship here. I am only part of a balance. I get what I need from the copious amounts of negativity in Alagaësia. And Hrothgar, if I am to be blunt," He paused, searching the dwarf's face. "I have grown to hate the imbalance of positivity and negativity in Alagaësia. It leans too far in my favor, and once upon a time I thought I would love that. I have found that I do not. And I am going to correct it."

He glanced at the others with him. "It has made me unstable. Which is worrisome, for I have heard tale of my brother, Dream, possibly being in Alagaësia as well. And as much as I am distasteful of him, he cannot survive without positivity. This world would slowly kill him, and in turn, me. So I have multiple reasons to kill Galbatorix. It would weaken me greatly, but stabilize the balance of Positivity and Negativity."

Hrothgar stroked his beard, thinking.
"You have given me much to think about, God of Negativity and God of Destruction."
"Please, Lord. Or my name."
"Just call me by name. I don't care about nobility or my status as a god."
"So it shall be, Lord Nightmare and Lord Error."

He paused, eyeing them. Red scuffed his shoe, Killer spinning a knife on his finger as Cross leaned forward on his blade and Chaos stared wide-eyed at Saphira with a huge smile plastered on her face. Dust was probably talking to Powder, Blue just standing there with a blank grin alongside Eragon.

Hrothgar faced Saphira. "Dragon, what think you in this matter? For what reason have you come?" She peeled back her upper lip to growl. Tell him that I thirst for the blood of our enemies and eagerly await the day when we ride to battle against Galbatorix. I've no love or mercy for traitors and egg breakers like that false king. He held me for over a century and, even now, still has two of my brethren, whom I would free if possible. And tell Hrothgar I think you ready for this task.

Eragon grimaced as Killer and Dust whooped loudly as Red grinned darkly, causing Nightmare to sigh into his hand as Eragon relayed her words and explained how they could hear her when she did not guard her mind.

Hrothgar smirked a little at the words. "I see that dragons have not changed with the centuries." He knocked on his throne after a brief silence. "Do you know why this seat was quarried so flat and angular?" "To remind each king that their responsibility is not to themselves, but their people." Error interrupted before the dwarf could continue.

"Yes. I have not sat upon this throne in comfort, nor have my predecessors. Neither shall all who come after me. I will relinquish this seat without regret when my time comes. What is there to remind you of your obligations, Eragon? If the Empire falls, will you take Galbatorix's place and claim his kingship? Or shall we be ruled by a god from other worlds?"

"I do not seek to replace Galbatorix, nor would any accept me as their King. I have too much in common with that fallen Rider."
"I'd go crazy trying to rule anything. I don't want it, and I'd be a terrible option for a ruler."
"I don't seek to wear a crown or rule. Being a Rider is responsibility enough. No, I would not take the throne in Urû'baen... not unless there was no one else willing or competent enough to take it."

Hrothgar laced his fingers together. "Certainly you would be a kinder king than Galbatorix, but no race should have a leader who does not age or leave the throne. The time of the Riders has passed, Eragon and Wyrdaí Islingrya. They will never rise again- not even if Galbatorix's other eggs were to hatch."

Nightmare remembered his vision of the spectral dragon.
Perhaps there is something we have missed...
Galbatorix's power came from the dragons...
...

Hrothgar eyed Eragon's sword gravely. "I see that you carry an enemy's sword; I was told of this, and that you travel with a son of the Forsworn. It does not please me to see this weapon." He reached out. "I would like to examine it."

Eragon drew Zar'roc and handed it over hilt first. Hrothgar took it and studied the bloody blade. It caught the light, reflecting red across the room. He tested it upon his palm.
"A masterfully forged blade. Elves rarely choose to make swords- they prefer bows and spears- but when they do, the results are unmatched. This is an ill-fated blade; I am not glad to see it within my realm. But carry it if you will; perhaps it's luck has changed." He returned it, then addressed all of them.

"Has my nephew proved helpful during your time here?"
"Who?" Eragon questioned.
"Orik, my youngest sister's son. He's been serving under Ajihad to show my support for the Varden. It seems that he has been returned to my command, however. I was gratified to hear that you befriended him with your words."
"I couldn't ask for a better guide."
"He is a good dwarf, eager to give us the best."
"Great dvergr." Error had the last word.

"That is good." Hrothgar said pleasantly. "Unfortunately, I cannot speak with you much longer. My advisors wait for me, as there are matters I must deal with. I will say this, though: If you wish the support of the dwarves within my realm, you must first prove yourself to them. We have long memories and do not rush to hasty decisions. Words will decide nothing, only deeds."

"I will keep that in mind." Eragon informed the dwarf king, bowing. Hrothgar nodded. "You may go, then."
They all turned to leave, but Nightmare stopped Error. "Can you tell him of the coming war?" He whispered in Wingdings. Error blinked, then his tear marks let out a pulse of light. "Yes. He deserves to know. He'll die." He waved the rest to go ahead, facing Hrothgar as Nightmare sent back a meaningful look at the mountain king.

Be careful what you say. There is only so much we can tell him..
Well aware of that, Night. Don't worry, I'll start with something unrelated, like the Multiverse.
Alright, Error. Thank you for the godly title by the way, I wasn't expecting that.
Well, it's true. You're more powerful than Reaper, and he's a confirmed god. Even if he's from an AU of gods.
You have a good point. Let's discuss this later.
Kay.

Orik joined their group as they left the hall of the mountain king. "Did all go well? Were you received favorably?" He questioned anxiously.
"We were received cautiously." Nightmare chose his words wisely.
"I think so." Eragon added.
"I don't think he likes dragons all that much." Chaos pouted, glancing back as her daddy was left behind. "I love dragons."
"Being cautious is how he survived this long." Orik told them.

Back in the main chamber of Tronjhiem, they spotted a madly grinning Horror carrying something that resembled an axe, but larger. The strange fire elemental Sinead was behind him, Geno leaning on the far wall.

"Eragon, your blessing yesterday has stirred up the Varden like an overturned beehive." Nightmare felt himself stiffen, feeling the heaviness of Wyrda in those words. Horror froze in the distance, eyelight flickering silver.
"The child Saphira touched had been hailed as a future hero. She and her guardian have been quartered in the finest rooms. Everyone is talking about your miracle. All of the human mothers seem intent on finding you and getting the same for their children."
Nightmare clutched his shirt over his Soul, seeing images flashing in his mind.

"What should we do?" Eragon questioned, alarmed.
"Aside from taking back your actions? Stay out of sight as much as possible. Everyone will be kept out of the dragonhold, so you won't be disturbed there."
"Boss, are you okay? I've never seen your eyelight grey before." Killer pointed out.
"Yeah, it's kinda navy grey, the other's blank." Dust added.

Horror arrived and gripped Eragon's shoulders tightly. "For the love of Asgore, don't bless another child." Eragon leapt back as Blueberry tugged the creepy skeleton off.

"Cᵤᵣₛₑₛ!" He stuttered, it was all he could make out from the blinding scenes. He gripped his skull, over his right eyesocket as black liquid seeped out of it, sizzling as it hit the floor. Then he stared right into Eragon, realizing what he was seeing. A few tears of black slipped down his face.

"𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒂 𝒉𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒎𝒆."
Horror spoke next. "𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚗𝚘 𝚏𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗."
"𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒂 𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒅 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏."
"ɴᴏʀ ᴄᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴅᴏɴᴇ."
"𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝑾𝒚𝒓𝒅𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓."
"ᴀɴᴅ ꜱʜᴇ, ᴛᴏᴏ, ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ɪᴍᴘᴏʀᴛᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴜᴛᴜʀᴇ."
"𝑬𝒍𝒗𝒂, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓 𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒅."
The other skeletons were blinking, starting to see it, too. The only reason they didn't sense it when it happened was because it was masked by their acceptance into Alagaësia.

"Oh fuck, what the-" Dust stumbled back as his eyelights flared. Killer was rigid, white rings flickering in his empty sockets as Horror clawed his hole so hard it cracked and bled. Red had his sockets screwed shut as he grimaced, Chaos tugging on her hair and shaking. Saphira snaked her head down and nudged Nightmare worriedly.

"Reluctant... savior.." Chaos wheezed. Then Geno teleported over, eyelight blue and red, his glitch having fallen away to reveal his half-melted face. Fresh was behind him, sunglasses blank, not smiling at all but rather, looking serious.

Then Killer yelped out, his Soul writhing into an upside-down heart with a symbol in the center. A single rune. He teleported away before anything else could happen. Dust followed a second later. And Red, after he grunted something incomprehensible. Blueberry glanced around in worry, the only monster that was remotely okay. He grabbed Chaos by the wrist and whispered to Nightmare in Wingdings.
"I think you know what to do, Zíllandr."

He teleported away with Chaos before Nightmare could react. How the hell did he know that name?!
But the Sans was right. Nightmare knew what he had to do.
Furthermore, he knew where he had to go.

"Orik, take Eragon where he will go. Geno, please take Horror to his room. Fresh.. come with me."
"Where's Error?" Geno questioned harshly.
"Hrothgar. The könungr dvergr deserves to know he is to die soon." He finished in Wingdings, not able to tell Orik that he was going to be a leader soon. They didn't have any details, but they recognized that much. Fresh glanced at Eragon and Orik, then patted Geno's spine. "I got dis." He said calmly.

Geno huffed, but grabbed the whimpering Horror with silver-red eyelights and disappeared. "Orik, take care of Eragon, kay? None of us here be used to this wyrda stuff, yeah? It's kinda unrad." He chuckled humorlessly. Nightmare felt a wisp of heartache from the parasite.

"Just take em to da library or whatevs. Me an Nighty got some stuff ta take care of." He did finger guns, but his face betrayed his worry. After a tense moment, Orik led the baffled Eragon away.

When the two vanished around the bend, Nightmare gripped Fresh's shoulders. "You're feeling. Especially fear. What is happening with you?" He ordered. Fresh didn't respond, not at first.

Then he sighed and removed his sunglasses. The Soul in his Socket was half-dead, the edges having withered away due to being consumed. The yellow eye of the parasite itself peered around it. The purple tentacles writhed.

"Your host isn't going to last.." Nightmare breathed, suddenly afraid himself. "Yeah. I need a new body, but my options are, heheh, limited."
"How long do you think you have?" Nightmare questioned.

"A.. couple months. I been talkin with Error brah, and he.. said that copies are least likely ta make it." He chuckled drily. "I'm gonna die, Night."
"No." I'll give you one of my apples if I need to."
"Y'know you'll run outta those eventually."
"Error can give you energy to last until the Collapse. And so will I. You are not allowed to die." "Heh. Okies. Sure, brah." Fresh quickly put the sunglasses back on. "Just don't tell Error and Geno brah, okay?" He said in a tired voice.

"Are you sure, Fresh?" "Yeah, Nighty brah. I ain't ready for dat... not yet." He sighed wearily. "So was dat all ya wanted me for?"
"No, we need to see this child."
"Got it. I know where they're keepin' er."

Fresh grabbed onto Nightmare's wrist and teleported in one of his god-awful rainbow poofs. Nightmare coughed as they reappeared in darkness. Something he was familiar with. Fresh remained where he was, fake smile plastered over his face as Nightmare knocked on the door.
"No visitors!" An old, frail voice called out meekly.

"I'm here on behalf of Elva's fate."
"Please, we just want peace. Is that too much to ask for us?"
"You know something is wrong, don't you? You see she is not well, despite having been blessed by a Rider. Well, there is something you must know. That Rider is still hardly an adult by your standards, and worse, is still largely unfamiliar with the magic he wields. You demanded something of him he was not ready for, and now that child is accidentally cursed. He meant no ill will, but made a mistake that I will not allow him to make again. Now let me in, human, I must see the child that senses pain like I do."

After a long silence, the sound of locks opening echoed through the air. Then the door creaked open, an aged, wrinkly face peered at him before her eyes widened in recognition. "Etalthargen!" She gasped. Nightmare stared hard into her eyes.

She waved him in, still wary. She wore warm clothes, the room holding a chill even Nightmare could feel. He sensed the magic, breezing past the human to find a crib with what was definitely a several month old human baby. The silver mark on the infant's brow gleamed, reflecting the soft glow of his eyelights. Her eyes were as purple as his own lights.

The ancient skeleton of magic gazed at the supernatural child, the babe returning the stare with knowing eyes. A few tears glimmered there.

Nightmare... wasn't sure how to feel about this. He knew the child was like him, now. But not, all the same. She sensed pain and suffering, like he, but it weakened her instead of making her stronger, like he. She was hailed as a hero, whereas Nightmare had always been feared. She was a being of flesh, he an arcane entity incarnated in magic and bone, born of a faraway world.

Her caretaker came up behind them, wringing her hands worriedly. "Can you help her?" She croaked. "She's so cold, and now that she's stopped crying, she's too quiet. And you say.. Argetlam made a mistake...."

Nightmare sighed. "As much as I want to.. I cannot take her pain away. Not now. Her fate prevents me. It's unclear what she is destined to do, but I have reason to believe it has something in relation to the downfall of Galbatorix.." The woman gasped. "Surely..?"

"I can't be sure, so take it with a grain of salt. Now listen to me, and listen well. Eragon did his best to bless Elva, but made a mistake in his wording. I am not altogether sure, as I was not there and know this purely through glimpses of Fate, but I believe he meant to shield her from misfortune. He mispronounced a word, and instead made her a shield from misfortune."
She choked, horrified.

"Since he used magic, he cannot undo his accidental curse. But mayhaps the gedwëy upon her from Saphira will do more good. Perhaps that is what forms her wyrd. Do you understand?"

She nodded, crying and covering her face, which only served to annoy Nightmare. He narrowed his sockets at her. "You're the one who expected too much of an untrained boy. He's too young. We can only be grateful he will never make this mistake again." He glanced back at the child.

Her young, broken gaze never left him. She was supposed to be an infant, but she looked a few months old. And enduring pain no thing so young should ever experience. Nightmare himself, when he was formed, had the consciousness of a 9 year old, as well as the body of a 5 year old. That was so many eons ago...

"So there is nothing you can do?" "Oh shut up and give me a minute. Will you?" He snapped. The caretaker recoiled, then backed away. Nightmare glared after her until she was out of sight. Then returned to the child.
...

"Hello, Elva." He spoke softly, not sure what to say. She cooed softly in response. He dropped his shoulders, sighing.
"What am I to do with you?" He studied her. She did look kinda like him in a way. Purple eyes, like his eyelights when uncorrupted. Black hair, like his scheme when corrupted. He hesitated.

"You feel it, too. Don't you? The fear of the dwarves, of me, of Eragon, but mostly their hate of Eragon and Saphira.. the pain.. the loss, the mourning of those who lost their family and friends. And the little things. Dwarf that burned himself while smelting. Woman that cut herself cooking. Kid that broke his wrist. Man that tripped and dislocated his arm training. You feel it all as I do, but it hurts you.. It hurts you so much.. I am sorry, Elva starchild. I don't want anyone else to suffer like I once did. So..."

He was thinking. He desperately wanted to take this child's pain away, but something forced him not to every moment he tried to act on it. His eyelights burned with Determination. He picked her up out of the crib, her skin so feverish in this moment. It cooled upon touching him, until it was icy. He stared hard into those eyes that reflected his lights. Until their reflections revealed one ice blue eyelight. He shifted into his Corrupted form, trembling slightly with what he was about to do.

A shaking tentacle laid it's tip on her brow, tracing the silvery star with a line of black. "I cannot take your pain, but I can give you something else." He whispered.
"I hate to see what Alagaësia will do to you, when you are like me, but in agony. So while I cannot remove it, I can at least lessen it. I don't know entirely what this will do, but remember this, starchild. I will be watching you."

Eventually he felt a pang as he separated an Apple of Darkness from his being, the blackened, bluish thing hovering above his tentacle. He grasped it in hand and the goop began sloughing off of him. These Apples were basically the closest thing to Souls without actually being Souls. He glanced between the apple and the girl. She looked at the magical object emotionlessly. Her gaze shifted back to Nightmare.

"You're like me." He whispered, not sure if he should go through with this. What would happen? There were bound to be side effects. By Multiverse standards, she was Soulless. By Alagaësia standards, she was enchanted and cursed, but still had whatever a Soul was in this world.
....

"You're too much like me for it to be left alone. You are not like other humans, Elva the starchild. So I select you. When the time comes, brunhvitr, I will come for you. You do not belong among humans, and I don't believe you should be among dauthleikrar at all. So, child of evarínya, take this and be something more than what you already are."

He gently pushed the still incorporeal apple into her tiny chest, the Soul substitute flaring and turning a brilliant purple like his own Soul as he did so. The infant gasped and gurgled, her tiny hands clawing at his own phalanges. The black mark upon her head around her star became purple, glowing with ethereal light as did the gedwëy. Her eyes also held a bright, violet light that illuminated both faces in the dark.

Nightmare restrained his own hurt, knowing it harmed her. Struggling to keep his voice level, he spoke to her. "This is my blessing to you, Elva. It may be unholy because of my nature, but you are already cursed from a mere mistake. Do not hate Eragon, for I will make sure he atones for this. And more, I sense this curse will not last forever. You will never be any kind of normal, but I will give you a chance to make something of that."

He gazed into the eyes of the child of magic. Now she was grammaryé as well as vanyalí. A unique mixture, perhaps the only that will ever exist. Nightmare blinked, then drew the infant to his ribcage in an awkward hug.

"I have been the night for a long, long time, child." He whispered, aware that she would not understand quite yet, but she would remember his words.
"I have been a black night with no moon. A Terror of the dark, when I should have been a Guardian. I do not have my moon back, not yet brunhvitr. But perhaps... you can fill my empty sky with your stars. For I have been lost in my darkness for so many centuries. I am old, Elva. Very old. I remember my youth and the recent decades, but the in-between is such an eternal blur. I am as old as the eons, yet only my brother knows this.. and now, so do you.."

"Little One, you do not deserve the pain that will be coming." He felt her pulse as the ethereal shred of his immortal power settled into her. He pressed her forehead, the mark glowing brighter in response. "But what I have given you, nothing else can do. For I am only one, and my only kin is my reversal, my opposite."

She cooed curiously at him, a stiffness in her small form fading. She laid her head against him, eyelids heavy. "I can't stay, Evarína." He informed her. She looked back up, the words not quite understood. "I must go soon. Alagaësia has it's plan for me, as well. So I have to go."

The girl grabbed a handful of his shirt, staring with wide eyes. The gesture was obvious. Nightmare felt a tear trace the side of his face. "Just remember my name, alright little one?" He pulled her to his face, where she proceeded to grasp his crown and socket. He pulled her hand out of his eyesocket, but let her hold the diadem.

"I am Zíllandr Cicállaé. Very few know that name. But Alagaësia has given me another name. Alalëa Äfdraumr. Remember, starchild. Evarína. Star." He paused, then said two words in Wingdings.
"Don't forget."

She gazed blankly into his sockets, her eyes still holding so much meaning, purple and fading out to violet. Her purple-rimmed white star on her brow was glowing softly. He started humming a tune from centuries ago, one he never thought would be uttered ever again.

"Close your eyes
It'll be alright..
The sun is going down
But the stars are coming out
The Moon watches over tonight
Smiling in the gentle light
For come morning round,
The sun will come about."

The small one fell asleep to those words, failing to notice as Nightmare placed her into the crib and pressed his thumb to her forehead, right on the center of the star, leaving behind a silver glow.

He walked away, feeling a tad incomplete as he exited the room. The caretaker was waiting, leaping up upon seeing his return. "Is she healed?" She exclaimed. He shot her a glare. "I cannot heal her, wyrda prevents me. I would have done so at once if I could heal her. Instead, I gave Elva a gift for her pain. She will never be natural, but at least she has something for herself."

His eyelights flashed, and he held her gaze before she looked away. "How have you helped dear Elva then, my Lord?" He blinked, then answered. "She is like me, thanks to her curse. I gave her a gift only I could ever give. She is now unique. Perhaps her burden is lessened- that's what I am hoping for. If it doesn't, then at least she has some of my power. She will do with it what she will."

After a choking gasp, she asked. "But how is my child like you, o skeleton of magic?"
He stared hard at the human.

"She senses pain, and is driven to alleviate it at all costs. It causes her pain to not act upon this. I am also capable of sensing the aliments of others, and I am driven to help them. Though my focus is not to protect them, and it has been many centuries since I have last cared for them. Unfortunately for Elva, she cannot ignore the pain. So perhaps my magic can do good for her." His voice dropped to a murmur, the feeling of kinship being so powerful. Nightmare wanted to wrap that infant in his tentacles and hiss at all who threatened her.

He shook his skull, hating the feeling. Hating how emotional he had become. This was so weak! So pathetic. So... much like that old child in his core, buried in centuries of anger. Tensing up, Nightmare briskly walked past the human. He arrived at the door and spun around. He pointed at the woman, making sure she understood.

"One day, I will come for Elva. She doesn't belong with mortals anymore. She will only become stranger and less human as time goes by. So soon, she will be under my care. With others of magic, like she. The starchild belongs with me. So I will come when the time calls me. Maybe you will be gone by then, maybe not. But Elva does not belong here among dauthleikrar. Mortals. Do not argue with me, human. For she is more like an elf than you. And who knows what other effects I have now wrought upon her. So understand this: she will join us as an immortal one day, and that day is fast approaching. That, I promise. And one thing you should know of my kind, is we may not make promises often, but when we do, we keep them."

And with that, he left.