The Elf dropped down the treetops above. He pressed his body close to the ground, hugging his simple steel sword, an elegant curve of metal, close to his side. He shouldn't be here, he knew. But he had to find out for himself.
He ran forth and ducked under a low hanging branch, his slender frame easily slipping between the tree trunks. He crouched for a moment to inspect the dry leaves, searching for tracks of the enemy.
He crawled under a bush and rose to a crouching position and surveyed the forest, shadowy trees rising like pillars from the dense undergrowth. A single songbird fluttered from branch to branch, a yellow blur in a sea of green.
Looking up at the Sun, the Elf gauged the time. Nearly noon. She should be here by now. It wasn't unusual for her to be late.
The melody of the songbird ended. There was the crackling of a falling tree from behind. The elf ran forward without looking back, vaulting over a fallen log and pressing his body close to it, breathing heavily as he waited for the signature of the enemy.
He wrinkled his nose at the smell, smoke, burnt flesh. His bones shook with every step the monster took, the pounding of his heart echoed in his mind as he waited for the beast to come.
But it never did.
There was a snort, and the smell of smoke intensified. He shook his head to clear up the smell. How did the beasts live with it? The thudding came again, but it grew steadily weaker, soon fading to nothing. The songbird sprang to life yet again.
He tightened his hold on his sword, and glanced out through a hole in the trunk. There was a path where the undergrowth had been trampled down and the bark on the huge surrounding trees seemed to have been scratched a million times by the creature's scales, exposing the light flesh beneath and sap oozed out in several places.
The Elf vaulted back over the log and was about to follow the trail the creature had left, it was actually more of a huge new path of ferns and bushes trampled flat. He walked forth, but as he passed a tall moss covered tree he stopped. Mainly due to the sword across his chest.
"What's this? An Elf, in this part of Du Weldenvarden?"
He smiled. "Speak of yourself before of me."
The sword lowered and its wielder, another Elf emerging from the cover of the tree trunk on his right. Her features were proud and regal, dressed in nothing but a simple green silk tunic. Her hair was straight and long, swept back. She flashed a smile at him. "Hello, Eragon."
He twisted his arm over his sternum. "Atra esterní ono thelduin, Silthrin Alfa-kona."
She sighed. "You want to use that ridiculous greeting that the King coined? I do not usually question his judgement, but I am tempted to in this subject."
He repeated the greeting again. Silthrin sighed and wearily spoke, "Mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr."
"Un du evarínya ono varda," Eragon completed.
Silthrin asked, "Why do you persist in using that absurd 'greeting'?"
"Who knows? One day, all of our kind might greet each other as such. What plight befell you that you arrived late? You are usually very punctual."
She waved dismissively. "Drop the formalities, Eragon. Use them around the King if you want, but I'm your friend."
He agreed to do so. Their kind had grown increasingly well-mannered and sophisticated even to strangers or those who angered them in recent years, and Eragon fell into this category. Silthrin, however, did not, preferring to speak casually at all times possible.
"Found a sentry up on the bluff. Big and tall, just sitting there watching the forest. It was a bit of a challenge to make my way to our rendezvous without him spotting me. Now, what is our plan?"
Eragon pointed with his sword down the path the creature had taken, a trail of fallen trees and crushed plants. "One of them came through here, obviously. It did not stay long, strange for one of them. I would say that something has befallen their nests, and he could not stay long."
Slitrin was already walking, or in their dense forest, more of vaulting over obstacles and ducking under hanging branches. "Something's definitely up at their nests. Come on, we must make haste before the beasts are all driven away."
He smiled at her back and followed.
She sprinted ahead and easily climbed up a huge boulder, leaping great heights with only the smallest footholds. At the top she sat down facing Eragon, and asked, "So, what's your reason for coming along hmmm? Not too many are eager to come along on my daredevil trips."
"You mean none?"
"Oh all right. So? What is your reason?"
Eragon hesitated before realising that she might as well know. "The nest closet to us, the one we go to, a raiding party departed to that nest three weeks ago. They never returned."
Slithrin hopped off her boulder and walked by Eragon's side. "Let me guess, you have a friend who went with them?"
"No, the last of my family. My brother," he replied. The very thought of his absence brought forth feelings of melancholy.
She looked at him with pity. "Don't worry, Eragon. We'll find him."
They travelled in silence for the most of the trip. They reached a gentle, upwards slope and Eragon spied a clearing past a thicket at the top of the slope, and saw that the floor of the clearing was made of flat, grey stone. He remembered the words of the veterans he had countless times as they told of their stories to wide eyes audiences. They make their nests on large patches of flat granite. Each individual nest rises two metres into the air, a dome of large stones, the eggs buried deep within. The beasts' deadliest weapon also saves their unhatched children from freezing to death.
He also remembered the part where they told of how they had crushed the eggs underfoot, how they had driven back the monsters from 'our' forest on their raids.
Eragon was about to climb through the thicket when he felt Silthrin grab his tunic and pull him back. He landed on his underside, hard. He looked at her angrily as she pushed him into a lying position. "What?"
She didn't answer, only looked straight ahead. He repeated his question, to which she gave an incredibly offensive gesture before placing her index finger on her lips. "Sentry…"
He looked up the slope, and saw the beast at the top of the slope, strong and stoic. The beast had been so still Eragon had barely seen it. It lay on its belly, staring down the slope at the forest below him. They had ascended the slope at an angle leading to the corner of the beast's eyes. Hopefully he had not spied them yet.
The creature rose at least three metres into the air though it was lying down. Its scales were almost beautiful, a deep, rich crimson. They sparkled in the faintest light and reflected the rays of the sun into his eyes like a thousand mirrors. A row of ivory spikes ran down his length. His great form seemed to radiate strength and fierce fire, accustomed by the characteristic stench of burning flesh and smoke. His head slowly panned left to right then back to left. There was a sparse bush ahead of them, and if they were lucky it would shield them from the monster's eyes.
Thankfully it did. There had been stories among the veterans of how some dragons would invade the minds of weaker Elves with amazing strength and crush the target's mind and break their will. The Elves would curl up on the forest floor and murmur incoherently as the beasts fell upon them. Thankfully this one did not think to do so. After a few minutes he rose and entered the clearing. A sound reached their ears, like the flapping of huge sheets of canvas.
Silthrin grinned at him. "Your first one huh? Never forget your first."
"T-That thing… it was a dragon?"
"The very same."
"It was a giant!" By far the largest creature the forest yielded.
Silthrin laughed, her voice ringing like how he imagined moon light would sound like. "Giant? That little guy? You should see the real big ones."
"They grow bigger?" He asked in amazement.
"Of course. They never stop growing."
Eragon stared at where the dragon had stood, imagining a creature like that but a hundred times bigger. Its size seemed impossible.
Silthrin walked up the slope and offered a hand to Eragon. "Come on. Want to find your brother?"
They reached the thicket and crouched behind it. Silthrin risked a peek through the bush, and her features paled.
"What do you see, Silthrin? Dragons? How many?"
"No… no dragons… something else."
He recognised the fear in her voice. She turned to look at him, eyes wide. "We should leave."
Eragon wouldn't take no for an answer. He slipped past her. The smell of smoke was strong. But he needed to know. Drawing his sword, he gently pushed aside the leaves of the bush. He wished he had followed Silthrin's instructions.
He had emerged into a roughly circular clearing forty metres wide. There were no dragons as she said. Not one wing tip in the sky. But he saw why he still smelt smoke. All over the clearing, strewn atop collapsed nest mounds and lying in contorted poses on the granite, were bodies. Slim bodies of elves, clad in their elegant flowing armour, dragons whose bodies were stuck full of long spears and arrows. The once beautiful features of the Elves was all but invisible behind their wounds and their armour was corroded, where the metal had once been beautiful gilded green was blackened and corroded armour. Their skin was also discoloured, black as coal. Patches of the skin had turned to red, red as the crimson dragon's scales, a dark spider web stretching across their bodies like cracked mud. Smoke trails still curled up slowly from the bodies. Many of the elves still clutched their lances or swords in death, one had been caught in the inferno just as he had nocked an arrow into his bow, the shrivelled stick of wood still nocked and ready in the black bow.
Eragon crouched over the nearest body. "Brother?" He asked fearfully, though he knew there would not be an answer. He checked the corpse's neck. There was no necklace. He heaved a relieved sigh. This was not his brother.
"They did their job well," Silthrin remarked as she joined him. Eragon looked up. They did do their jobs, even if they had sacrificed themselves in the process. All the mounds had been uncovered and eggs smashed open, crushed or sliced through. Their weapons were enchanted to be able to break dragon eggs and pierce their scales. The shells lay sadly in shards on the ground, the dead embryos lying surrounded by them, their dead skin pink and without scales.
"Faster, we must leave before that sentry returns."
"W-Wait, I need to find my brother."
"We have no time!"
"Just find him!" She was taken aback by his fury.
She spoke to him in a gentle tone. "Okay, how do we know which one he is?"
"He… he wore a necklace around his neck. A white diamond on a cord of woven leaves, of the… the Menoa."
Silthrin went to the far side of the granite flat, turning over bodies, searching for one that bore the necklace. Eragon looked at one body, then another. None of them were his brother. But they were someone else's brother. Someone else's sister. That could be Brother over there. Or him. Or this one. Or this…
"Wait!" Eragon called. He crouched next to a body that had fallen over an almost intact mound, body spread over it almost protectively. This was the only body that had not been burnt, blood pooling on the ground. His face was smothered in blood, an indistinguishable red façade. But there, on the rock his neck rested on, was a pure white diamond with a hole bored in one corner. There was a line of fine ash leading from this hole to the Elf's neck and over and around it. Like the cord of leaves had burnt to ashes where they lay.
"Silthrin, I've found…" He didn't need to finish the sentence.
He remembered his brother's words before he left, pulling his gilded helmet over his eyes. How he smiled at Eragon and picked up his lance. If I die on the field, find my body and take this necklace.
Why? He would ask.
Well you're worth so little having this little diamond won't hurt.
Eragon picked up the diamond with shaking fingers. He brushed off the ash of the leaf cord and looked at the pure white gem. One of the learned elders had said he'd never seen a gem as powerful as the white diamond Eragon's brother found in the creek years ago. He never knew what power the old Elf had referred to. Bending low, he kissed his brother on the forehead, trying not to think about the taste of blood that fille his mouth. "Goodbye, Brother, Bid'Duam."
Silthrin stood to one side, silent. She hadn't disturb him. He was glad for that.
He gripped the diamond in one hand and rose. He looked at Silthrin. "Let's g-"
A roar sounded. Eragon and Silthrin looked up and saw the sentry flying overhead. He wasn't alone. There was another dragon, green as a young sprig, and twice as large as the red. The Red circled around while the Green swooped in and landed before them. The dragon snarled at them and flared out his wings and bared his razor sharp teeth. The dragon beat his wings at them twice, as if trying to intimidate them. The Red made a sharp turn and swooped down into the forest behind them.
"Okay, on three, we run in either directions. We can't rendezvous with these beasts on our tail."
"Yes, indeed."
The Green growled again. Eragon wondered why he didn't just burn them up. Maybe they were not worth his flame.
"Okay, 3…"
The dragon began lumbering towards them, loose pebble jumping about with each of his steps. His wings beat the air back behind him, accelerating his charge. He opened his jaws and roared at them.
"Change of plans. Run now!"
Eragon turned to run but the Green was too fast, the edge of his wing slamming into Eragon's side. He heard the dragon snap its jaws at him as it ran past. The momentum of the charge carried the dragon straight through the thicket and into the forest. Judging by the enraged roaring, he had discovered what happens when you run that fast towards a downwards slope.
Silthrin was already gone. Eragon got up to leave then glanced at his brother's charred body. The mound he lay across had been displaced by one of the gargantuan footsteps of the Green. There, a tiny area between the loose stones, was a patch of stark white. Had his brother died protecting it or had his body just fallen over the mound coincidentally? It didn't matter. He wouldn't take chances. Eragon reached down and scooped up the object hidden in the mound. The dragon burst back through the thicket and roared at him. Time to bail. He leaped through a gap in the thicket as the fires filled the clearing.
Eragon raced through the forests, leaping over a raised root and swinging over a creek on a branch. He heard another roar behind him. Where was the crimson one? Probably chasing Silthrin. Just his luck, he got the bigger dragon. He sprinted through the forest as fast as he could.
The sounds of splintering wood reached him. He glanced back and saw the Green chasing after him, toppling trees in his path. He'd heard of the hate dragons harboured for Elves but this was something else.
He yelped as he tripped on a rock. His face met ground, sliding forward on the forest floor. The next roar was even closer.
Eragon scrabbled to his feet and held the mysterious white item close to his chest and his sword close to his side. The weapon wouldn't be much use against the dragon, but one could dream.
Still running, Eragon ran into a cliff. A tall, rocky grey cliff that stretched up for hundreds of metres. He had found the bluff Silthrin spoke of.
He spun around. The Green had stopped mere metres from his quarry, baring his teeth. The paths to either side were blocked off by a layer of growth too thick to penetrate. He was cornered.
Eragon backed up against the wall. The dragon shook roared at him. The haste of the chase was gone. The cat had cornered, the mouse, why hurry to the kill?
Looking up, he saw several vines stretching down. Maybe he could climb one. Then he realised none of them came within ten metres of the ground. He cursed. No way out.
The Green seemed to draw its neck and head back. He knew what was next.
This gem, it has power.
He didn't know why the elder's words occurred to him. He looked at the diamond in his hand.
Power unlike that within any gem I've ever seen.
The smell of smoke grew stronger. He actually saw two smoke trails rising from the dragon's nostrils.
When the fire came, Eragon did the most reasonable thing. Or maybe the least. He sat on the ground, hugged the white item and his sword close, and held the gem forward like a talisman to save him.
He felt the heat, the flames as they curled around him. The inferno raged about his body, waiting for his body to burn away and join his brother in the dark. But he did not fall into the long sleep.
When the world around him faded from red and orange to its regular palette, Eragon looked up and saw the swinging tail of the Green as he retreated into the forest. He had been so sure that Eragon had burnt up like that raiding party of Elves did that he had not even bothered to look, leaving before the inferno ceased.
Eragon sat there, not sure how he had survived. Then he saw the white diamond in his hand, and realised why his brother had not burnt up, why the dragons had slew him personally with tooth and claw.
"Oh, Bid'Daum, you sly fox."
He wondered how many wards his brother had placed upon the gem. Maybe that was why he had asked Eragon to take it after his death.
There was a cracking noise from beneath his arm. Eragon looked down in surprise and realised with horror that the item he held was a white egg. A white dragon egg.
The creature had bored a small hole in the top of the egg, its slightly wet snout pushing just visible. The hatchling strained against the egg shell, causing a spider web of cracks to spread across the egg. Eragon had felt a certain connection to the egg, maybe it was because his brother had seemed to defend it in death, or maybe that he'd run from the great green dragon with the egg underhand.
The creature's snout pushed through a crack. Eragon gingerly pried open a large piece, helping the creature out.
The dragon's head was uncovered, its white soft and supple. Its skin was wet with the liquids of the egg. He stared up at Eragon with large, endearing eyes, and nuzzled his tunic, staining the silk with his wet snout.
Eragon cursed softly and held it at a distance, raising his sword and holding the tip of the curved blade over the hatchling's head. It stared at the metal weapon in curiousity, before reaching up to lick some soot off the tip. He dropped the weapon to his side. Maybe he could raise a weapon against a grown dragon, but this wasn't one of the great beasts. This dragon didn't know better, he hadn't done any wrong. To kill him would be like killing another Elf.
He smiled at the hatchling, cautiously placing one hand on the dragon's snout. It proceeded to lick the ash and soot off his fingers.
"Don't worry, little dragon. I'll protect you."
The dragon whimpered at him, like he could understand his words.
"Don't worry, you're safe with me."
He peeled off the rest of the shell and the dragon crawled into his arms. Why didn't it fear him? He realised that it was because the dragon was only a hatchling. He didn't know any better.
"Don't worry, dragon. I'll protect you like he protected you."
He began to make his way through the forest to Ellesmera, smiling at the helpless little dragon he carried.
"We'll make a new world. Where you can be safe. Where we all can be. The two of us. Yes, the two of us, Bid'Duam."
3-1-14
I challenged myself to write a story in under three hours, and decided that the original story told in the book of the first Eragon and his dragon, Bid'Duam, was a bit too bland. I thought that many of the details had been invariably lost to time, so the real events must have been so different. I took this idea, and began to imagine the story of how Eragon I would have found his Bid'Duam and formed the first bond between dragon and Elf. I hope it was not that bad a story.