Shared thoughts
Years before the war between the riders and the Forsworn, there was peace. Riders occupied every corner of Alagaësia, drinking and laughing with people just like them. The only differences between them was that the riders had a dragon. Their own lifetime companion that bonded with them body and soul.
This bond was so strong that when one end was lost the remaining partner, more often then not, withered away.
A young rider, named Galbatorix, lost his dragon as a result of his arrogance. He requested the chance to try and get another dragon to hatch for him, but the Elders denied him. Galbatorix then blamed the riders for what happened to his dragon, and swore vengeance before disappearing. Everybody brushed off his words as raving nonsense.
Except my mother.
She called the riders arrogant and foolish. The Council should have seen the madness festering inside of the young rider, but they did nothing. That mistake cost them their lives.
My mother knew Galbatorix was bad news, and at that time I was still just a girl. About fourteen years of age, but as an elf that was still a baby. For protection she cast a spell, hoping I would remain unhurt by whatever action Galbatorix takes.
While my mother had good intentions, her magic effected me in ways she never intended. During magic lessons with my teachers my energy no longer drained, and if it did it was in such small amounts I couldn't feel it. When sword fighting with my instructor I barely felt the cuts and scrapes before they healed overnight.
The last part of her spell didn't manifest until the day one of the Elders was assassinated. I had a feeling of foreboding the entire day. I felt it again the night a riders throat was slit and his hatchling stolen.
The war was an absolute massacre. Thirteen riders against all the rest, yet the Forsworn still won. It wasn't until the end of the war when I was finally able to do something. My mother forbade me from participating in the war (even though my abilities could have saved countless lives) because she didn't want anybody knowing what her blessing did to me. Accident or no, her spell would have been frowned upon, and she would have been punished.
When my mother was killed in a raid, led by the Forsworn, I took up my sword, and rode in the direction my instincts told me to go. My father was a rider, but he died early in the war. After my mother died I could make my own choice.
My instincts brought me to a mountain. This confused me at first, but when I saw two large dragons battling in the sky, one white and one black, I knew somebody was here, and they were enemies.
Closing my eyes I whispered a spell in the Ancient Language to transport me from my horses saddle to an outcrop on the mountainside. I heard the clang of metal on metal and whipped around to witness a gruesome history.
Galbatorix himself stood above the fallen body of Vrael, the greatest rider of the Order. The traitor viciously kicked Vrael's body before swinging his sword down to remove the white riders head from his shoulders.
A roar of pain and anguish came from up above, and a mass of white scales fell out of the sky. The wind current almost knocked me over, but I kept a hand against the mountain to stay standing.
Galbatorix and his stolen dragon, Shruikan, had just defeated Vrael and his dragon Umaroth. An unbidden scream fell from my lips, and I dropped to my knees. Any hope the riders had left to defeat the Forsworn crumbled away.
An invisible force wrapped around my neck and lifted me off the ground. It pulled me closer to Galbatorix. His attention had been caught by this strange elf girl with wavy black locks and ocean blue eyes. He hadn't sensed her presence while defeating Vrael. "Who are you, girl?"
I sneered at him and spat in the Ancient Language, "I am your death!" Without uttering another word my magic ripped apart Galbatorix's spell, allowing me to fall to the ground. There was no possible way for me to defeat him in a duel. If Vrael couldn't do it an elf child certainly can't.
I summoned Vrael's sword from Galbatorix's hands, and glared at the rider who's soul was as black as his stolen dragon. "I will take great pleasure in killing you when we meet next." Another spell in the Ancient Language had me disappearing from the mountain with a deafening bang.
My magic brought me to a cave overlooking unfamiliar plains. I collapsed to the ground in a heap of tears. There was nobody alive for me to seek for comfort, and I'd just witnessed the death of the strongest living rider. Apparently we were all wrong: Galbatorix was the better rider.
My sobs slowly tapered out and a fierce expression crossed my face. Galbatorix would never be the better rider. He was a cruel man who could never dream of becoming as great as Vrael.
Pushing myself up from the ground I waited until my legs stopped shaking before moving deeper into the cave. The afternoon sun was bright enough for me to see something very large, and very red, laying at the back of the cave.
Each step I took echoed around the cave. The drain on my emotions took more of my strength than I previously thought, since elven footsteps are near silent.
The noise caused whatever was at the back of the cave to shift. I immediately stopped walking and held my breath in preparation for what may come. My grip on Vrael's sword tightened until my knuckles turned white.
Part of the red thing moved similar to a curtain being pulled back, and I was soon staring into the red eyes of a dragon.
The air in my lungs left in a whoosh of air, and I had trouble inhaling. The red dragon lifted its head as high as it could go, and I ended up falling onto my backside trying to follow it with my eyes.
Something brushed against the shields to my mind, and I was so occupied trying to get air back into my lungs I didn't have the strength to fight it.
Calm down, two-legs. The feminine voice resonated through my thoughts. It's clarity helped ease my confusion. Breathing slowly became easier, and I mentally thanked the presence for calming me down.
Swallowing harshly I moved from my back, and onto my knees. "I am sorry for intruding on your cave, Lady Dragon. I hadn't known you were here."
A deep rumble came from the dragon, and I was relieved to note that it was more of a pleased sound than an angry one. I hear the truth in your words. Nobody is supposed to know I am here; I wished to die in peace.
"Oh!" I felt bad for intruding on, what would be, the dragons final resting place. "Forgive me. I'll take my leave."
Wait. I stopped in my attempt to leave the cave, and looked back at the thoughtful dragon. What is your name, young one?
"Lyari, Lady Dragon."
Well, Lyari, are you in any way associated with the Forsworn? Smoke billowed from her nostrils, and I quickly shook my head in denial. "No! I would never associate myself with such traitors!"
The smoke stopped coming, and the dragon relaxed. Good. I must ask you, Lyari, can I trust you?
I placed a hand on my chest and swore in the Ancient Language. "I would never betray you."
Then you are exactly who I need to help me. I have never been particularly fond of the riders, I've only ever given them one egg myself, but these are desperate times. She lifted her wing to reveal four eggs. When I entered this cave I discovered an abandoned nest. The orange and teal eggs are mine. The white and purple eggs are the ones I found.
I walked closer to the nest in a daze, but shook it off to look at the red dragon in a silent request for permission to get closer. She dipped her head, and I carefully climbed into the nest of sticks and leaves to lay an awed hand on the purple egg.
It pains me to admit I am dying, young Lyari. The wounds I sustained in battle are too great for me to survive. I am asking you to cast the binding spell over these eggs, so they may bond with a rider instead of being born wild.
"You would rather they have a rider than be wild?"
She nodded. Galbatorix needs to be stopped. The riders must return if we want dragons to return to Alagaësia.
"It will be dangerous for them."
It's possible none of them will hatch, but their existence alone will provide the hope people need to resist the Forsworn.
"I will do everything in my power to rid Alagaësia of its Black King."
The red dragon rumbled appreciatively, and laid her head on her paws. A fitting title for such a man.
The spells used to turn a wild egg into one a bonded was rather simple. It wasn't a commonly taught spell, but the process wasn't a secret. I followed my memories to the best of my ability, and started with the purple one.
It took all of my concentration to make sure I didn't mess up during the spell casting. In the end I created the first rider's egg in Alagaësia after the war.
"If I may ask, Lady Dragon," I pulled the teal egg towards me, "what is your name?"
My mouth opened to begin the enchantments, but the words got caught in my throat when the dragon replied, Vervada.
I choked on my spit. "V–Vervada?" All elves would be ashamed at the lack of manners. Except no elf had the same laid back personality as I did, and mother tried her best to rid me of it. No attempt ever worked.
You sound very surprised to hear my name.
"Sorry, it's just," I looked away to stare at the dragon egg in front of me, "I've heard a lot about you. Some called you the queen of the skies."
Vervada kneaded the cave floor. Whether I am a queen or not, my time is ending. Someone else may take up my mantle.
I finished spelling the teal egg and slid it next to the purple. "If you'd like." I paused to cast the spells over the white egg. "I won't spell the orange egg, and it can hatch as a wild dragon."
You allow her to stay wild? A wild dragon will not let you tell them what to do without a fight. If she doesn't want to be a part of this war, then she most likely won't be.
I lightly ran my hand over the burnt-orange egg. "If I left her as a wild dragon, then she could be the one to take your mantle. Who am I to tell her what she can and can't do?"
Vervada lowered her head so she may look at me with a single eye. That is most pleasing to hear, young elf. Not many two-legs would be so kind as to leave one wild.
"Well," I sighed, "the only dragons left are the eggs sitting here in front of me–and if rumors are true, then the three in Galbatorix's possession. All of those eggs will hatch for riders, and I figure it would be good to give the wild dragons their chance as well."
Then all wild dragons from this day forward are in your debt. Vervada brought her snout closer to my body, and I lightly placed my left hand on her red scales.
A bright flash of illuminated the cave, but I only saw it from behind my eyelids. I had shut them when a searing pain wrapped around my left hand.
When my eyes reopened I found myself hunched over with a tingling sensation throughout my hand. I slowly blinked out of my daze, and pushed myself up into a sitting position. My hand had that odd pins and needles feeling. When I looked at it I saw an odd mark twisting up my middle finger.
On the palm of my hand, sitting just below my middle finger, was the outline of a dragon with its wings outstretched. It's head was tilted up with its maw stretched wide. There were what looked to be flames falling out of its mouth, and they wound their way up my finger.
That mark has only been made once.
I looked up at Vervada. "What is it?"
It's a mark of friendship that only wild dragons can give. It's not anywhere near as binding as a riders mark, but it shows that you are a friend to any wild dragons you meet. But of course, her eyes gained a mischievous twinkle, it seems you'll be their mother if you decide to keep Xupae wild.
"Xupae?"
She nudged the burnt-orange egg with the tip of her snout. That shall be her name.
I nodded silently, rubbing my thumb over the new mark on my hand. "Then when she hatches I'll make sure she knows it."
Vervada moved her head away and laid it on top of her paws, slowly allowing her eyes to drift shut. My injuries are taking there toll. My eyes surveyed her body, but I could not find a single scratch.
She felt my wandering eyes. They are not visible wounds. The magics that were used on me attacked my internal body. I'm afraid I won't last much longer. A large breath was exhaled from her nostrils.
"I could heal you," I offered.
No, the damage is too much. It's quite miraculous I've made it this long.
I pulled the white egg closer to my body in a unconscious search for comfort. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
Her lips twitched at the corners, and I realized she was smiling. I'm afraid not, young Lyari. I only ask you take good care of those eggs.
"I will protect them with my life."
Vervada hummed. Such heavy words, so readily said. Her breathing become shallower and slower.
"Their lives are much more important, in the scheme of things," my words were spoken quietly. I felt as if talking louder would break the heavy atmosphere.
Wait for her to grow old enough to defend herself properly. It would do her no good to battle Galbatorix when she is naught but a hatchling.
As soon as the words, "I will," left my mouth, Vervada exhaled her last breath. My eyes welled up with tears, and I let them flow freely. Watching such a proud and beautiful creature die before my eyes was a horrible thing to encounter. How Galbatorix could bring himself to kill them I would never be able to fathom.
Grabbing a stalk of grass from the nest I transformed it into a bag large enough to fit the blue, purple, and orange egg. I wanted to carry the white egg in my arms. In my opinion it was much prettier than the others. It's main color was white, and the veins that spiderwebbed over the surface were a wine red color.
I walked to the mouth of the cave with the white egg cradled in my arms, and the bag of eggs strapped over my back. There was nothing but grassy plains extending as far as the eye could see. I wouldn't know where I was until I left the cave in search of any nearby villages.
My mind brushed against the four content minds on my person. I promise I will help you three find your riders, and to raise all of you into the strongest dragons you can be.
AN: I pronounce Xupae as Zoo-pay.
