I have been a part of FanFiction for a while now, reading and reviewing stories, trying to give feedback to authors. And here is my first fic. Tear it apart as you please, I will gladly except any criticisms that you have.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Inheritance Cycle, Kialandí, or Formora, those belong to Paolini, but Jeorin and Erevel are all mine.
It was an ordinary hill, grassy and well-trodden, its silhouette visible through the thick fog that was uncharacteristic of the season. Three domestic sheep grazed upon it. They were skittish creatures, sheep, prone to panic at the slightest of noise.
After eating their fill, the trio seemed content to digest their meal in the tranquility of the landscape. But they were soon alerted by a mysterious reverberation in the air, like like the echo of a drum after having been forcefully hit.
At the third echo, the sheep panicked, and scattered throughout the fog. It was wise they had done so, for not three moments later, the thunderous noise came to its climax, and two large male dragons appeared out of the haze.
The larger dragon was a deep, stupefying shade of purple, which would have driven any market fabric dyer mad with jealousy. He landed gracefully upon the hill, his wings slowing and finally falling silent with the whisper of dry parchment as he drew them to his body in a well-practiced landing.
The other dragon was very slightly smaller, very stocky and muscular, with scales the color of day-old dried mud. His landing was less than graceful, almost a tumble upon the terrain, but he did not seem to mind or care. The mind of this dragon was otherwise occupied. He looked around, and snorted at his surroundings.
Two elves dismounted the dragons, a male from the purple and a female from the brown, each resplendent in shining silver armor and cloaks the color of their dragon partner's scales. Their swords, which hung at their sides, were the made from the rarest metal in all of Alagaësia, and matched the coordination of their respective colors.
The female elf, whose hair was black as night, looked around in mild annoyance at the fog. "How much longer are we expected to continue this search?" she asked, to not one of them in particular.
Earlier in the month, the two dragons and their Riders had been sent east from Doru Araeba, to deal with a tribe of Urgals rampaging through the Spine. They had sacked many villages and killed many innocents, which was uncharacteristic, even for them. The Riders had searched for weeks, but the tribe remained elusive in the mystery of the Spine.
It was this bit that had the Riders worried. Urgals were not by any means subtle creatures, and could often be heard bumbling, pillaging, and roaring, even from the air. But this tribe had stayed low and silent.
It was the female's Rider companion, a male elf of unusual silvery-blonde hair, who answered her question. "Oromis has placed stress on this venture, and I admit, it is troubling. We must see to it that it is accomplished and completed."
The female elf nodded reluctantly, but her dragon partner, the brown-scaled, snorted. And why should we act as carriers to all of Oromis and Glaedr's problems? We are apprentices, not servants, and this is their field. I, personally, am tiring of their treatment.
The purple scales of the other dragon rippled in annoyance. Oromis and Glaedr are the wisest of the Order, Erevel, and you would presume to accuse them of maltreatment? They have shown nothing but kindness to us since we were hatchlings.
Erevel did not take stock from these words. They send on frivolous errands with no discernible purpose, deny us the rank which is now rightfully ours, and treat us as though we were still hatchlings!
"This mission is not frivolous," said the male elf, stern-faced and tight-lipped. "And the purpose is sound and clear. We will never ascend the rank of Full Rider if your attitude continues in this direction, Erevel."
Silence on the hill.
"Well, Kialandí," said the female Rider, chuckling. "It appears that Erevel's lovely disposition has finally reached it's limit to every one of us."
The brown dragon snorted again, flames flickering in his nostrils. I will not sit here and be mocked as would a mere child. And with that, he took to the skies.
The purple dragon snorted in his fury. I hardly think that the rampaging of Urgals is something that any being would consider frivolous. He spoke to both of the Riders.
"Will he be able to navigate in this weather?" asked Kialandí, concern in his voice.
"Erevel has been through worse weather," said the female elf. "As we all have."
"Nevertheless, if he is out for too long, it will be cause for concern. . . ."
As Kialandí's voice trailed off, silence descended over the clearing, and the companions continued their vigil for a long while. Not a sound was made in the night.
"You'll have to forgive him," said the female elf, finally, to Kialandí and his dragon. "He has not been the same since Liolana."
The purple dragon's displeasure was evident in the close quarters. To mate with another when you are already bonded is . . . unwise. It creates unneeded and unnecessary emotion.
It is hard for me to stomach, quite honestly, the dragon added as an afterthought.
"You should not be so hard on Erevel, Jeorin." said Kialandí, giving a pointed look to his life-partner. "Right or wrong, he did lose one whom he loved. That is a burden no one wants to bear."
The female elf nodded her ascent. "Still," she said. "It has . . . changed him. And not for the better. His thoughts run darker. If only I–"
"Liolana's accident was not something you could've prevented, Formora. And it is now irrelevant. What's done is done, and there is nothing that could be reversed in order to change it.
"You sound like Glaedr." said Formora wryly.
Erevel should talk to Glaedr, or Oromis," urged Kialandí. "It might ease his pain."
It seems Oromis and Glaedr are the last people Erevel wants to talk to at the moment. said Jeorin, his deep voice lacking any trace of amusement.
Formora nodded once more, and uttered a soft sigh.
He will cool off eventually. In the meantime, we should take more care with his emotions. Jeorin rumbled, and fell silent.
"I think that would probably be wise." said Formora.
Kialandí agreed, and the vigil was continued.
Late in the night, Erevel returned. The companions were grateful and relieved for his reappearance, though he did not speak to any of them. He simply settled down into the earth and slept.
Formora took it as a good sign, as did Kialandí, and even the purple dragon Jeorin seemed pleased. What they did not know, however, was that Erevel's thoughts ran darker still.
And it was not completely on his own accord, for darkened minds and twisted things had met him on his lonely flight.
Eh? Ok? Good? Bad? Please review, tell me what you think.
