Andlátkyn; Vandr Sanses unin Alagaësia

The Rock of Kuthian

They all stood before the great spire, staring up at it in trepidation. Slowly their gazes fell upon the figure standing in front of it. He was small as always, though they knew his power was far greater than it seemed.
It appeared that he preferred his smaller, familiar form whenever he stood in front of the spire.

"How does it feel? Knowing yourselves." Abyss called.
"It feels weird." GB admitted.
"I feel just a bit different." Blue added.
"I don't know. I know who I am." Eragon lowered his head.
I am who I am. Shall we open the door? Saphira insisted.
"Right. Yes." He nodded, stepping aside and heading over.

GB squinted at him. "You were acting like a Judge there." He noted.
Abyss paused, then snorted. "That wasn't intentional- I- I'm not a judge. I never was in this life.."
They all glanced at him in varying levels of confusion.
"Do we even ask or will you not make sense?"
"I just remember my previous lifetimes." He shrugged, leaning back.

"So who will be saying their name first?"
I shall. Glaedr announced. If there is a trap, I might be able to spring it before it catches any of you.
"There isn't one." Abyss muttered, but didn't argue, everyone pulling back mentally to give the elder dragon some privacy.
No, you have told me your names. It is only right that you should know mine.

There was a shocked pause, then all four of them spoke at once.
Thank you, Ebrithil.

That said, his deep voice rumbled as he recited a spiel, full of love for his Rider, grief at his loss and yet eternal gratitude to find the forces of the world having unbent to allow Oromis to somehow exist beyond his death. And on it went, describing a life of a complex mind that was centuries old, difficult to grasp and yet understood all the same. The name stretched several sentences before coming to a stop, everyone watching for a change in the rock and finding nothing.

Saphira was next, pawing at the ground and snorting before tossing her name at the stone. Her love for Eragon too, was prominent, as were other aspects of herself. She was of fire, of beauty, a true dragon, a part of Alagaësia. But she was also full of an ache, tinged with the fact that she was still the last female of her kind, a mother of a hybrid race.

As silence fell, GB nervously stepped forward. Steeling himself, he took a breath and spoke. His name was of struggle, feeling lost and alone in a world that no felt like his own, tainted with the numbing agony of constant Reset after Reset, illuminated by brief patches of respite before it turned to being thrust into an alien world of pain, unable to go home, lost and broken until finding a will to fight back. To bite and snap. To burn all that would hurt him and hurt others.

His name spoke of his new fierceness, his anger, his love and loyalty to the one who saved him, helped him, guided him to where he was now. His name spoke of his devotion to protecting his yet unborn children, ready to die to give them a better world than anything he had known. His name spoke of his bond with Blue and connection to Loyalty. His name was unexpectedly grand while touched with humility, a trait unseen in dragons. It was.. a good name.

Eragon seemed shocked at it, mouth slightly open as Saphira blinked. Even though they seemed similar in age and were both students alongside each other, there was a vast difference in age between them. Saphira may be an adult by her race's standards, but she was still an infant by a skeleton's. The truth was.. off-putting.

It was then that Loyalty spoke up from within, choosing instead to speak with thoughts so as not to be overheard by any who might somehow listen. His name was.. bewildering. It spoke of his mind-bending nature as a deity, as himself, a being both in and part of everything in ways that were difficult to grasp. His name called him the teeth and claws of Unity, connected to but not synonymous with the other. His name was also unnervingly short despite clearly being an entity of incredible age. His name did not list accomplishments, as it was clear that nearly all things were in part due to him.