Empire

Disclaimer: This is a story based on the writings of Christopher Paolini, and all of the said users, and authors of this story do not claim any credit for the work that Christopher put into the inheritance trilogy. This being said, we (the Authors) did create some areas and character of the story, though they are based on Christopher's' works.

This fiction was not written by me alone, it is the compiled efforts of many talented individuals on as such, and I wish to credit the following people with the writing of this story.

Saphiras Girl

Mtbanger (me)

E.B

roranFTW

Crymson Rider

Darth Futurza

Dragon God

Broms Wryda

Croatia Rider

Ultimate Roran (gave a lot of support to this fic, though not an author of it… I think)

Edoc'sil Wryda (same as Ultimate Roran)

Spitfire9

Zak (for support, and I think some writing)

Amathrya-the purple dragon

Carsaib

Vandr

Frogzrule

If there is any one I missed out, please say so in a review.

This fic is nearly finished, and I will try to update every week, depending on our editor (thank you roranFTW), we have many different contributors, and the forums don't have a very good grammar checker, so it could be longer.

I assure you, it is a good one.

Enjoy.

Mtbanger

---

Eragon walked out of the tent. Saphira was waiting for him.
"What do we do now?" asked Eragon.
Saphira was silent for a while but then said "Let me help you, and then we can go from there." He walked over to her tail; the wound was deep but not too wide.
"Waise heill" Eragon murmured and suddenly Saphira's scales fused together closing the wound. Dizzy from the magic and the battle only a few hours ago eragon sat on saphira's shoulders like he had from what seemed to be so many years ago when she was still a small dragon. Roran stepped out and gasped a little at Saphira, she smiled revealing white fangs which were actually red from blood, Roran shuttered.

"Eragon, let's get some rest you must be exhausted from the battle. In the morning we can sort things out." said Roran.
"Yeah" Eragon breathed "tomorrow things should seem clearer.
"Saphira will you be alright sleeping out here?" Eragon asked.
"I'm content little one; get your rest we have much to do in the morning." Saphira responded.
"Thanks Saphira." Eragon said and patted her head.
Eragon walked to a small tent nearby, on his mat he laid there thinking about everything he had discovered that day. Could everything murtagh said be true? Well, it had to be, but still he also wondered if he would ever regain Zar'roc from Murtagh. Eventually, Eragon fell back into the waking dreams he had come to claim. As he rested, his thoughts took him to his days back in Carvahall when Garrow used to give him and Roran money for the traders that came once a year. He remembered the sweet food he bought. He remembered the simple joy he felt from farming. He remembered Garrow. Guilt burnt within Eragon's chest, as he remembered his role in Garrow's death. He rolled over to face the back of his cousin, feeling even worse as he did so. Saphira sensed his mood, but said nothing.

After a restless sleep, Eragon awoke to the feeling of Roran shaking him up.
"Come on"
"What?"
"Come on! Nasuada wants to speak to you."
"... OK, I'm going now..."
"What does Nasuada want with us, the battle just ended?"
"I don't know, little one. I fear a dark horizon is approaching us... and you cannot even now fight, after Murtagh's theft of Zar'roc."
Eragon Groaned.
"I know, has this at all changed your opinion of me?"
"Of course not!" snapped Saphira.
"Where were you?" snapped Nasuada as Eragon walked into her tent.
"In my tent." replied Eragon, slightly bemused.
"Do you realize your situation, Eragon?" said Nasuada curtly.
"No..." replied Eragon in a confused voice.
"You've got yourself tied! The dwarves need you to repair the star saphire, you have to heal Elva, you must return to the elves, and now on top of all that, you're going with your cousin on some blasted journey to rescue some damsel in distress!" yelled Nasuda.

"Where is Elva? I must speak to her and try to heal her. It was an oath in the ancient language." In calm voice that annoyed Nasuda because of his lack of distress.
"I am here, Shadeslayer" said Elva quietly.
"I said I would hold you to your word, and I have"
"Elva the time has come for me to fix my mistake. Will you allow me to heal you?"
"You can try" said the little girl slyly.

Eragon rested his gedwey ignasia on the girl's forehead. Her skin still burned. By its own accord, his mind automatically reached out to Elva's, trying to understand the depth of her suffering. All Eragon felt were thick, iron walls.
Eragon glanced at her, but she stared determinedly on the ground.
Eragon remembered Oromis' lessons, and he began to chant; an ancient chant from the ancient language that would hopefully relieve Elva's suffering.
After no more than a few seconds of the chant, the pair passed out.

Eragon woke to the sound of the wind's howl. For a few seconds, he wondered why he was lying on the floor, with nobody around: Nobody except a young child, a child with violet eyes,
and a silvery mark on her forehead.

Eragon coughed "Did it work?"
"I...I think so...I don't feel any different...but I cannot see your secrets."
Eragon paused. "We need to be in a larger area" he said.
The pair walked through the tents to where the rest of Carvahall was staying.
"Anything?" asked Eragon.
"I can't feel anyone's secrets...I can sense their general emotions, but I don't have that awful impulse to act." With such joy in her voice, although not her voice, for the voice Eragon heard seemed to come from a normal child and not an adult.
"I think Elva...it might...have worked."
The next thing Eragon knew there was a four year old girl crying around his waist, her little arms wrapped around him.
"Thank you!" she cried.

After shaking off Elva, Eragon went back to his tent. He lay there thinking...that's one duty off my chest.
"Yes, but do not forget little one, that we have much to do. When does Roran wish to go?" asked Saphira.
"I'm not sure...I should go and see him."

Eragon walked over to Roran who was staring at something. At first Eragon thought it was cloth but no, it was a painting of him and Katrina.
"Roran, when are we going to head off?"
Roran didn't answer but Saphira did," Eragon, don't you remember that I must repair the Star Rose for the dwarves. I swore to them that I would do it. After that we can leave!"
"Yes alright, I'll tell Roran, how long do you think it will take you?"
"Oh not long, until we leave you should continue your training."
"Right, I'll do that."
Eragon's thoughts went back to his cousin and he explained saphira's plan.
"No! We don't have time for your dumb dragon don't you understand my wife could be dead! Dead, Eragon! I'm leaving tomorrow with or with out you and saphira!"
Eragon stood there, baffled.
"All will be alright, Eragon you'll see." Saphira told him, but for once in his life he doubted her words.

The next few hours found Eragon speaking to many different people about many different subjects. First, he spoke to Orik about the Isidar Mithrim; it was still being repaired by the dwarves so that was all clear. He began packing immediately for his trip with Roran. If Roran went alone, that would be the end of him.
Before he was finished packing, he attended Hrothgar's funeral, where he was asked to speak. He told everyone how Hrothgar was a brave soldier, who was brought low by a wizard's trickery. The crowd cheered for almost five minutes.
"To Hrothgar's memory" bellowed Orik.
The dwarves then get drank, like at previous parties.
Eragon quietly left as he noticed Roran standing by a horse with bags and his hammer at his belt.
"RORAN!" yelled Eragon.
"What?"
"Wait... Saphira… and I... are coming..." said Eragon catching his breath.
"Ok. But I can't wait long."
"Saphira, we must go and repay our debt to Roran."
"Yes, we can finally kill the Ra'zac and avenge Brom's death."
"And Garrows!" yelled Eragon
"That too." said Saphira chuckling.

---

FAR more to come, currently we have 250 A4 pages of fiction, though not edited, please bear with us.

Mtbanger

Don't forget to review!