Here's my idea, which will probably go unfinished, but I don't want it floating around in my head anymore.
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Quick Summary of the Story:
Lynara knows she does not belong. She never has, and she never will. That much she has been clear from the first day of her life – that alone. The daughter of an elf and a human, she fits nowhere. Her mother, a glorious elf princess who fell in love with a mortal, has long since disappeared into the depths of Du Weldenvarden, following the death of her beloved. Lynara's father was a warrior who could not resist her mother's charm and beauty. He died alone.
Lynara lives on the fringe of Du Weldenvarden, among an elf family who took her in out of pity. They treat her like a servant and make cruel jokes about her ancestry. Her only comfort is magic, and the kindness of her teacher, an old elf named Anurin.
After the Final Battle against Galbatorix, in which Eragon Shadeslayer was mortally wounded, the land of Alagaësia lies in turmoil. Murtagh and Thorn fly back and forth, eradicating the last resistance that exists against the Empire. It is only a matter of time before Galbatorix creates another vast army and marches against the elves. Eragon and Saphira are hidden away on the Crags of Taelnaír (remind me how to spell this, I can't find it in the book), awaiting their doom. The last hope for the survival of the elves and all of Alagaësia is the last dragon egg. But there is only one problem – the egg has disappeared.
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The three elves stood in a circle, two men and a woman, their feline faces grave. The tallest, an old elf with silvered hair and gray eyes, spoke up first.
"This is the fourth occasion, Lynara, daughter of Marien, that we have gathered here because of you. It is high time you learned some respect." The other elves nodded solemnly.
Lynara, the girl in question, was seated opposite them in a slender high-backed chair, sung just last week from an ash tree. Her clear blue eyes flickered back and forth between the others, her face expressionless.
"You dishonor us with your imprudent actions and your lack of integrity," added the elf woman with flowing red hair and a dress made of flowers.
"Therefore, we have come to decision," stated the silver-haired elf. He glanced at his companions, then at the floor, and then at Lynara. "You have one more chance. If you cannot learn to control yourself, we will cast you out of this house."
All three nodded in agreement, and then darted away, as if standing for so long in one place had pushed them past their limits. Lynara held perfectly still for a moment, until she was sure that they were all gone, and then she let out a loud breath and slumped back into the chair.
"A plague on all elves!" she hissed quietly to herself. She allowed herself a moment to fume, and then she expertly cleared her mind, focusing instead on the sounds of birdsong filtering through the windows of the treehouse.
It was a beautiful day, and Lynara was determined not to let her adopted family's cruelty darken her mood. The three elves had taken her in as a child, but they had never accepted her as one of their own. The fact that human blood ran in her veins seemed grounds enough to make her life miserable. The girl shuddered.
Moving with the grace of an elf, Lynara rose out of the chair and danced to the door, leaping out of the house and landing on the ground with catlike ease. Before she had a chance to take a breath she was running, the trees whipping past her as she sprinted through the forest. Sunlight dappled the undergrowth and cast shadows across her fair skin as she ran.
A little while later, Lynara came to a sudden stop at the bank of a stream. To untrained eyes, there was nothing unusual about the small clearing that was nestled between two enormous oak trees. To Lynara, it was better than home.
"Anurin!" she called, her voice like the babbling of the brook that ran at her feet.
The forest was silent for a heartbeat, and then a sudden movement disrupted the calm. High in the branches of one of the oak trees, a pale face peered out of a window that belonged to a camouflaged house, sung out of the oak's trunk.
Gleefully, Lynara sprang from branch until she was level with the house. Though a narrow staircase wound its way around the trunk for the convenience of more sedate guests, Lynara preferred the natural way.
"Atra esterní ono thelduin," Lynara greeted, in the proper way of the elves.
A small door swung outward from the trunk of the oak, and a slender elven woman stepped out. Her hair was so black that it seemed almost blue in the sunlight, though streaked with silver. Her skin was pale and appeared almost translucent. Her eyes were blank, white, and unseeing.
"Mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr," replied the old woman in a warm, melodious voice, her sightless eyes shifting as she straightened and faced Lynara.
"Un du evarinya ono varda," finished Lynara. "Kvetha, Anurin svit-kona."
The elf woman smiled pleasantly and gestured toward the door of her house. "Come in, Lynara. Something troubles you and I would have you speak your heart."
Gratefully, Lynara stepped past Anurin and into the small house. She entered a round room with a low ceiling, furnished with two comfortable chairs, a rug, and desk that was littered with an odd assortment of tools and instruments of magic. A fireplace formed of dense wood took up much of the far side of the room. She sank into one of the chairs and released a sigh of relief.
Anurin pulled the door shut behind her and walked slowly to the desk. From beneath it she drew a small teapot, which she set on a hook in the fireplace. Without hesitation, Lynara murmured, "Brisingr," and a small fire sprang up between two logs.
Anurin smiled, then walked slowly to the other chair and sat down delicately. "What brings you here, Lynara? Surely your not having trouble with the spells I taught you yesterday?
Lynara shook her head, staring mournfully at her hands. "No, no – they gave me no trouble. But Däsedr gave me another lecture."
A knowing look passed over Anurin's placid features. "You must be strong at heart Lynara. Think of the kindness that Däsedr and his family have shown you, and cleanse your soul of anger. Anger warps magic to wreak terrible things."
Clenching her hands into fists, Lynara bit back a sharp retort, instead drawing in a deep breath and trying to release the tension that was built up in her chest. At that moment, a sharp whistle cut through her concentration. The teapot rattled, indicating that the water inside had boiled.
Anurin rose, slowly, and walked, slowly, to the fire. She gently lifted the teapot from its hook, then shuffled back to the desk. Pushing aside a blank slab of stone, she uncovered a tray and two teacups, already filled with the leaves of a fragrant plant. The water hissed and steamed as it was poured.
Lynara accepted the drink eagerly from the old elf and waited politely for her to seat herself again before taking a long, thirsty sip.
"Slower. Enjoy the taste," Anurin admonished. "You must learn patience, Lynara, for a spell cast with undue haste often goes awry."
When she had first agreed to become Anurin's apprentice, Lynara had been furious with the elf's slow pace and constant cryptic advice. After a while though, and as she grew and matured, she had learned to the take the old woman more seriously. The pieces of information that she slipped into every sentence were more valuable than many of her myriad lessons.
Once she had finished her tea, Lynara placed the cup on the windowsill to be washed later in the stream, and then returned to her seat, waiting calmly for Anurin to finish with her own.
"I find less and less comfort in magic and the peace of the forest," Lynara explained once her master had abandoned her own teacup. "I find that no matter how hard I try to empty my mind, it is filled with thoughts that now refuse to be still."
Anurin nodded sagely, her fingers pressed together on her lap. Her white eyes stared vacantly into the distant, though her expression portrayed rapt attention. "What thoughts are these that clamor for your attention? Perhaps they must be resolved."
Taking another deep breath, Lynara murmured, "I will never fit in here. And yet among humans I am as a god, and have no place either. Is there anywhere that I can feel accepted?"
Her words hovered in the air. Anurin made no move to reply, but merely stared at nothing, her chest rising and falling in a nearly undetectable rhythm. The sound of the stream churned in Lynara's ear as her patience was eaten up by time. Finally, as Lynara began to wonder if Anurin had fallen asleep, the elf woman responded.
"You must carve your own hollow in the forest, Lynara, daughter of Marien. There are none like you, that is true, and yet it is a blessing that has been bestowed on your for a reason. You are the child of an elf woman and a human man, and you alone and can find the true meaning of what you are. It is your destiny – one that no other can accomplish. You, Lynara, have been entrusted with a legend, and it is up to you to decide whether it will be sung in the melancholy halls of darkness and sorrow, or in the gardens of glory and joy."
Her voice echoed ominously in Lynara's ears.
"Come with me, Lynara. I have something to show you."
Anurin rose from her seat and glided to the door, which she opened unhurriedly. Surprised, Lynara followed her out the door. The elf woman began to descend the staircase that wound its way to the forest floor, a slender hand following the line of the trunk to make sure she didn't fall. Lynara followed respectfully behind, though she longed to swing down through the branches at a bird's pace.
When they had reached the ground, almost 10 minutes later, Anurin's face was contorted in a grimace of pain. The elf woman had lived through uncountable years of strife and agony, and by now, any great movement made her limbs ache. Lynara longed to mutter a spell of healing to relive her mentor's pain, but it was one of Anurin's cardinal rules that Lynara never aid her with magic. Instead, the black-haired girl darted forward and took Anurin's arm, supporting her weight while the lady caught her breath.
"Where are you taking me, ebrithil? Spare yourself the labor and have a guide show me this place," Lynara offered pleadingly.
Anurin shook her head, as Lynara knew she would, and murmured. "This I must do with you, my child." After another moment of silence, Anurin gently pushed away from Lynara and set out, her steps slow and deliberate. Though the woman was entirely blind, she had been without sight so long that it barely hindered her. She knew every step of the forest almost as well as her own skin, and where did not know a way, she would glean the information from the minds of the forest creatures around her. It was a slow method of travel, which was why Anurin rarely left her oak-tree home, but it was affective.
"We all face many choices in our lives, Lynara," she said, as she and the girl traveled languidly through the forest. Lynara nodded and looked across at her master, waiting for a follow up. Anurin said nothing more.
The old teacher's house was very close to the edge of Du Weldenvarden. Only a mile or two of dense forest shielded it from the hostilities of the Empire. Anurin was one of many elf magicians who had made their homes close to the edge, in order to protect their race if Galbatorix finally made his move on the forest. She spent most of her time erecting and maintaining wards around the wood, and the rest of it teaching Lynara her craft.
The sun had passed its zenith and was descending into the trees when finally, Lynara's keen elven eyes could make out the thinning of the trees. She was about to mention it to Anurin when the elf woman murmured, "We approach the edge of the forest."
It took them another ten or fifteen minutes before the trees began to disappear. Before the pair lay a vast prairie of yellow grass, gusts of wind making the rolling hills look like a gentle ocean of molten gold.
"It's beautiful," Lynara murmured.
"Yes," Anurin agreed. "I remember it from my childhood, long ago, and I can see it my mind's eye even as you do."
They stood there for sometime, the old elf woman reminiscing about her past, and Lynara pondering her future. A sudden revelation struck Lynara as the sun sunk below the horizon and night began to fall. She was about to voice her thoughts to Anurin when the elf woman suddenly stiffened and cried out.
"Anurin!" Lynara yelled. The elf woman's eyes had frozen and her face was twisted in a grimace of fear. Her slender hands clutched at Lynara's arm as a silent scream hissed between her lips. "Anurin! What's happening?" Lynara fell to her knees, cradling her teacher's head in her arms. As she prepared to use magic to call for help, afraid of somehow harming her teacher by healing her, a great crack sounded in Lynara's ears. She screamed, overwhelmed by the suddenness of the sound, and her hands left Anurin's cheeks to cover her ears.
The sound was gone as soon as it had come, and a qui breath escaped Anurin's lips. Lynara's slowly took her hands away from her ears, staring at Anurin's face. The woman's body had gone suddenly slack at Lynara's knees, and a small smile graced her features. Her white eyes did not move, and when Lynara bent to her chest, no breath moved in and out of Anurin's lungs.
The gentle magician was dead.