"Then let me," he said. His hand outstretched slowly. Patiently, as if to simply make the palm available to take something up, not to grab it away.
"Let me carry them for now, and use them for the good of our goals, nothing more. You've done great things with them...And their memories are better for it."
He meant the dragons. The ones that had given their ancient and powerful gifts to him before being sent to the next part of their journey. Back before he'd been cursed and cast away like someone orphaned all over again. It would have meant the end of Sleeping Tiger, something like that. His family was nearly extinguished, but he was the single ember still smoldering. They could start the whole thing burning again...
For when this was all done, who else but he would know what Eragos's markings meant? They didn't matter even now. What he said was true; Eragos had used them to do great things. And he still stood for those who would be hunted, exploited, and chased...