After Eragon had retrieved Murtaugh, a few things happened very quickly. First, as midday was slipping past and dusk would be approaching in several hours time, the group decided to rest and set up camp for the day, awkwardly inviting Nephis to join them.
Murtaugh settled onto a small stone and was changing between glancing frenetically at Nephis and trying to bore holes into the cracked earth with his eyes every few minutes.
Nephis felt the flame of longing that dwelt in his chest, just as she did with Eragon, and all other people she spoke to, but Murtaugh's was as erratic as his behavior, constantly shifting in its intensity. It was as though a host of emotions were battling inside of him for dominance, and even he wasn't sure which one of them he wanted to win.
Nephis herself remained standing, crossing her arms and kind of just... observing the group.
It served in creating an intensely awkward atmosphere, as though they were all being studied by her passionless gaze.
She quickly noticed the burden between Saphira, the dragon's, front legs. She pointed with a finger, her voice sounding strange.
"...Who is that, and why is she tied to the dragon?"
The woman, who appeared to be only a few years younger than Nephis herself, had been secured, back first, to the scaly breast of the saphire-blue dragon by a folded blanket. The blanket was tied on both ends around the dragon's girth with rope made from torn blankets and clothes, and looked as though its creation had been exceedingly rushed, even sloppy.
Eragon looked at Nephis with a confused expression for a moment, then looked at where she was pointing. His eyes filled with recognition, and he suddenly rushed over and began untying her from her binds, as though he had forgotten all about her in the recent scuffle.
The woman looked to be asleep, and her petite form seemed small even in the young man's arms as he, with the utmost care, laid her onto an improvised bed of his cloak, which he had removed despite the heat and laid onto the cracked earth. The youth then unclipped the sheathed sword from around his waist and wrapped it in his companion's cloak, who had forked his own over rather reluctantly, carefully raising her head to rest atop the makeshift pillow.
Nephis watched him work silently.
Eragon looked uncertainly to Nephis for a moment as he raised himself from a one-legged kneel. He gestured to the woman.
"I'd introduce you, but we don't actually know her name."
Nephis raised an eyebrow at that.
"How do you know her, then? And why is she asleep? Is she unwell?"
Eragon raised an arm and scratched the back of his head, chuckling awkwardly as he glanced between her and Murtaugh, who was sitting quietly on his rock, staring at the cracked earth, oblivious of his companion's unspoken cry for help.
"...Well, because we only got her a few days ago. She's been asleep this whole time."
Nephis' eyes narrowed, and her fingertips became white as she gripped her crossed arms tighter, glaring at Eragon with a chilly expression. The air suddenly seemed cold again, despite the desert heat.
"You only 'got' her, a couple days ago?"
Eragon's face paled as he caught her meaning.
"N-no, not at all, not like that! We rescued her, from Gilead. I'd seen her in my dreams, but we hadn't known she'd be there too, not when Murtaugh helped break me out of jail and escape soldiers..."
He trailed off as his face grew even paler, his expression becoming horrified as Nephis' right hand slowly began to extend to her side, fingers reaching to grip a soon to be summoned weapon.
"That's not what I mean, either! I just spoke wrong, I promise!"
Nephis's hand froze in place as she glared at Eragon.
"You have one chance. Explain. I suggest using the 'right' words, this time."
Eragon looked frantically at his dragon for help, but Saphira snorted, as though in amusement, curling into a ball and facing away from the proceedings.
Eragon looked back at Nephis, face fearful, but then he forced himself to breathe a shaky, deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment before looking back at Nephis with slightly more confidence.
"She was there, too, in Gilead's prison. We think they were torturing her for information about the enemies of the Empire, and I was there because they attacked us in the night and dragged me off, trying to convince me to join them, or at least keep me incarcerated long enough for Galbatorix himself to make a visit."
Nephis' hand didn't move from her side.
"This empire you speak of... it is evil?"
Eragon suddenly looked confused, but shook it off and nodded frantically.
"It's ruled by Galbatorix, who used force to take over the human lands over five hundred years ago to form his Empire. Now there are few to none who stand against him, or at least are willing to."
Nephis continued to stare at him with an icy expression, and her words were brittle.
"That's how most empires are created, you know. With force. How else do you convince a group of people that lack like-minded ambitions to join together? In the end, no matter how much negotiation takes place, they squabble like children instead of working to solve real, timely issues."
Eragon stared at her, slack jawed. A rumbling sound came from behind Eragon, from the dragon's throat, as though she were chuckling.
"Well, that can be true, but he killed so many that tried to resist him! He obliterated an entire race from existence, the dragons! Saphira is the last of her kin, now. After I found her, he sent his minions to kill us, or otherwise lure us to their side!"
Nephis nodded, but her tone did not change. Suddenly, however, it was not directed to the sleeping woman's plight.
"Some things are necessary for change to occur. There must be sacrifice, and there must be destruction of things past. It is merely that, sometimes, said destruction looks prettier and seems less messy, which is why the role of conquerors is typically viewed as barbaric and unnatural. This is a natural truth that cannot be ignored."
The color returned to Eragon's face as he also began to glare at her in turn, forgetting his fear. His face turned flush with anger as he opened his mouth to reply hotly, but Nephis closed her eyes and held up a hand to stop him.
"I'm sorry. I'm not here to have a philosophical discussion with you, at least not at the moment. Don't you still need to retrieve your horses?"
Eragon looked surprised, and still angry. However, he choked back his retort and nodded tersely, taking a few steps back and patting Saphira on her scaly hide. The dragon sniffed in annoyance and stretched, front claws digging into the cracked earth and wide wings spreading into the air as she abandoned her relaxed position. Eragon used the crook of her front leg to help himself climb up, but refused to look back at Nephis, instead giving his farewell to Murtaugh.
"...I'll return in several hour's time."
The majestic dragon launched into the air with one powerful beat of her wings, sending the loose earth scattering in every direction. Nephis watched them go, then sighed, rubbing her temples with one hand.
'I shouldn't have said anything…'
She looked back at the woman that lay peacefully on the ground.
Nephis hadn't noticed her before, but once she did, she couldn't stop herself from unabashedly staring.
That was because this woman had pointy ears.
'An elf! I can't believe they actually exist…'
As a teenager, Nephis hadn't been extremely familiar with the comic fantasies other girls her age had been obsessed with, since her own interests largely centered around music.
Particularly Nightingale, the band she, with desperation, secretly hoped would leave hiatus one day, and who's lead singer she had partied with and been personal friends with for many years now by a miraculous turn of fate on the Forgotten Shore. However, she had checked out a few of the heavily recommended volumes once or twice, just to see if they were as interesting as the online reviews claimed them to be.
She didn't understand the enthusiasm borne from the stories that were largely bundles of illiterate garbage. Reused storylines filled with overused and not even well-used romance tropes that seemed to have men falling to the feet of the female leads simply due to them breathing, but there were several she had greater appreciation for.
These were primarily of the adventure genre, which told stories of far-off lands, sometimes situated in the Dream Realm, sometimes not. Those that weren't centralized in the Dream Realm introduced a host of different races in their stories, like dwarves, beast-people, elves, and many other fantastical beings. From what little she recalled about elves, she knew they were supposed to be beautiful, even the men, had pointy ears, lived in forests, and were largely an archery-focused race. However, this was her first time encountering one, so she knew it was wrong for her to make assumptions purely based on works of fiction from her world.
She looked at Murtaugh.
"Why is she still asleep?"
Murtaugh seemed to snap out of his trance as he quickly looked up at Nephis, then at the petite elf. He pushed his ragged black hair out of his face as he answered.
"We don't know. We expect her to wake up any day now, though. As far as we can tell, there isn't any reason she should remain asleep, besides her wounds."
Nephis looked thoughtful.
"...What wounds does she bear?"
Murtaugh grimaced.
"Nasty ones. As far as we can tell, they tortured her to the brink of death time and time again, for weeks on end. They would heal the life threatening ones just enough so that she'd live for the next interrogation. After we rescued her and escaped from the city, Eragon did his best to heal her most grievous wounds, even though he exhausted himself while doing so, and treated what he couldn't… we don't know what else to do besides wait."
Nephis looked at the elf with new eyes.
"She must be very strong, then."
Murtaugh nodded, finally getting up and moving to start a fire with a bundle of wood that had been nestled inside a pack. The dragon had been carrying it in her saddlebags.
"There's no other way for her to still be alive, is there?"
"I suppose not."
As the sky slowly began to darken, the sun inching closer to the horizon, Nephis relented her stance and sat across the small fire from Murtaugh. They sat in silence for a time.
"How did you come to travel with a human, his dragon, and an elf, in the middle of a desert?"
Murtaugh snorted, shaking his head bitterly.
"Wish I knew. I'm somehow traveling with the most wanted man in the entire Empire... and I was supposed to be laying low, as well. Isn't that funny?"
Nephis didn't reply.
"Sorry about Eragon, by the way. I know this is probably something that he should tell you at his own disgression, but for his sake, I wouldn't suggest talking to him about the morality of the Empire. Not right now. It hasn't been long since he lost his mentor."
Nephis looked calmly into the fire, its light dancing in her silver eyes.
"How did he die?"
She already had a guess.
Murtaugh shifted, leaning back and staring into the darkening sky. The air was quickly cooling.
"...The Ra'zac. Servants of Galbatorix. They also killed his uncle back in his hometown, when they first discovered Saphira's existence. Dragons are supposed to be extinct. They tortured his uncle for information on Eragon's whereabouts, then burnt his house down, with his uncle still inside. He only escaped by relying on Brom, who taught him the basics of magic as they fled all across the Empire. Apparently he was a storyteller in his village, one who knew a lot about dragons. His death is still fresh, so I ask that you don't broach the topic for a time."
"When did you meet him?"
Murtaugh sighed, and regret colored his voice.
"They had just been captured by the Ra'zac, and since I was tracking those foul beasts myself, I was there by coincidence to help fight them off. Unfortunately, Brom's wounds were too great, the Ra'zac escaped, and he perished soon after. I've been traveling with him and Saphira since."
Nephis nodded to herself. That explained his behavior, and his hatred of this Empire. They were silent for a time, the fire crackling every few minutes, before Murtaugh struck up a new conversation.
"You... aren't from around here, are you?"
Nephis nodded tentatively. She hadn't had time to fully flesh out the excuse of her existence, but it turned out she didn't need to.
"Are you from a different world?"
Nephis looked at him sharply, but he was still staring into what was quickly becoming the night sky.
"...Yes. How did you know?"
Murtaugh chuckled to himself.
"Well, I didn't, at least not until you confirmed it by answering. It was just a thought. One that sounded ridiculous, but not as ridiculous as you simply existing. It's impossible to be a resident of Alagaësia and never have heard about Galbatorix. You also don't seem like the kind of person that would tolerate his rule."
Nephis stared at him for a moment.
"...Is that so."
Soon after, Eragon and his dragon returned. Saphira landed first, bringing forth a gust of wind that threatened to put out the now weakened coals of the fire, and spared the two of them both a glance and a snort, before once more curling into a ball.
Eragon arrived soon after, riding a beautiful white horse and holding the reigns of a grey steed that looked just as impressive. He stopped a few feet from the campfire, hoisting himself out of the saddle and unloading their burdens, dropping the backs and different bags to the ground.
He seemed exhausted, but also tempered, as though he had forgotten about his argument with Nephis. One tense look at her, however, and she knew he hadn't. He directed his gaze to Murtaugh, who had sat up and was now looking at Eragon himself.
"They were skittish as could be. They ran farther than we estimated, and once we finally caught up, they were too scared of Saphira to let me come to them. I had to dismount and spend an hour just trying to calm them down enough to not bolt when I approached."
Murtaugh stood and helped sort out their supplies, including formal sleepwear and blankets. He also pulled out a small pot and threw a couple logs onto the fire to get it roaring once more. Eragon glanced at the ground, then frowned as he looked at the pot that was now being filled with jerky and a scarce amount of spices.
"I won't be able to draw water from this."
Murtaugh frowned as well, then sighed and retrieved several canteens from the bags.
"This is the last of our water from the Ragnar. Are we sure you'll be able to use your magic once we are in the desert?"
Eragon nodded tentatively.
"Definitely. Besides, I'm too hungry and tired to not use these."
He glanced at Nephis, who held out a hand to answer the unasked question.
"I'll be fine. I am not unfamiliar with going hungry for a day or two, and feel no such desire right now, anyways. I also won't need to sleep tonight, so I can take all of the watches. Though, I do understand if you don't trust me to do so."
Murtaugh and Eragon shared a look. Eragon cleared his throat.
"You don't sleep?"
Nephis shook her head.
"Of course I sleep. Just much less than a mundane human needs too."
Eragon had a strange look on his face.
"Mundane human...?"
Nephis nodded.
"Thats our term for people that do not have special powers, in my native world."
The look on his face grew even more confused.
"What do you mean, 'native world?'"
Murtaugh shrugged, then went about preparing their dinner, pouring what little remained in the canteens into the pot for a poor man's soup. There really wasn't much.
"She's not from here, Eragon."
Eragons eyes bugged as he looked at his companion.
"Really?! I could tell she was different and unusual, but to be from a completely different world... I thought she might have just come from beyond the Empire's borders."
Nephis shook her head.
"No. I've never heard of this Empire, or of Galbatorix. I found myself here just this morning, and you found me soon after."
Eragon's face lit up with interest, despite his exhaustion.
"Weird..."
But then he frowned, and looked back at her.
"I apologize, but we haven't even asked you your name. At least, I have yet to."
He looked to his companion, and Murtaugh frowned too, looking to Nephis.
"I haven't either, actually. Odd."
Nephis looked at the both of them impassively, but suddenly, regality and pride entered her tone.
"My name is Nephis. I am known as Changing Star of the Immortal Flame Clan, leader of the Firekeepers and adopted daughter of Valor. I suppose I should tell you a bit about myself..."