Disclaimer : I do not own any hero of the Inheritance Cycle.
A/N : This story is dedicated to all of you, who will read it.
A cold eastern wind starts blowing over the desert. The reddish, setting sun causes a thousand glittering sparkles on the huge dragon's scales as he rests on the warm sand, with his Rider leaning on his flank. Enormous plains of emptiness holding no life are spread around them but the dragon's senses are in alarm. He lifts his magnificent head and sniffs the air humming.
They are coming!
I know.
Two days, three nights.
A caravan of the Wandering Tribes passes by. As the blood - red globe of sun melts into the sand, their chief, having climbed on a nearby dune, watches the desert. Blurred by the heat emanating from the ground, two dark figures are spotted sparring in the distance.
'The brothers …' he whispers with widening eyes, as if he has seen two ghosts, and superstitiously touches an amulet hanging from his neck. As he hurries towards his people, his gaze surveys the sky with anxiety.
'My children!' he raises his voice. 'Let us hurry away!'
Instinctively hands grab tightly the hilts of weapons. Dark eyes look around filled with fear. Strong men shiver under the darkening sky and the rising desert wind which even from so far carries the metallic sound of swords clashing against each other.
The shadows grow longer. The eastern wind blowing towards the north travels carrying the fear away, turning it to rumors, spreading them into the realm.
The brothersss … they are back togetheeer …