Disclaimer: I don't own any of this, except for what I may happen to make up. Haven't you read enough of these to understand that this is exactly what it's called: FAN FICTION????
XXX
The stench of death filled the air, invading the nostrils of those who wandered the Burning Plains. The Empire was in rapid retreat to the South – that is, what was left of it. Over 1,000 Empire soldiers had defected, and 2,000 had surrendered (A/N: Remember, the army was 100,000+ people, so this is actually not all that many). And though the Varden was victorious, it was a pyrrhic victory. More than half of the Surdan-Varden army lay dead, and were being slowly carried off the battle field to be cremated.
From a vantage point atop a high tower, a man could be seen in the distance, tending to the wounds of fallen soldiers. Ten paces behind him, an incandescent sapphire dragon slowly followed him, each massive claw bringing clouds of dust up as she brought her foot down. The man trekked towards each fallen comrade, healing them and offering words of consolation. If one looked close enough, and had the eyesight of an elf, they could see tears creeping down his cheeks. All of the sudden, the man stopped. He raised his head up, and screamed to the heavens in anguish. The sound echoed around Alagaesia (A/N: I don't understand how to do those symbols, so don't expect them on the words. Sorry.), and the world wept.
XXX
An hour later, the man in question trudged through the gates of Surda. Thoughts whirled through his head, most prominent including, "Why?" He plodded to his tent, where he quietly removed his armor and disrobed. He settled into a hot bath prepared by a servant, and contemplated the day's events:
The two armies had met at dawn. Arrows had flown and swords had clashed. He had killed many men, yet more had taken their places. And while the Varden were killing many for each they lost, none took the places of their dead.
Though the Varden had fought valiantly, without the support of the elves or the dwarves, the man knew that the Varden would fall. Then…
"Take heart, the dwarves are here!"
"Hail, Argetlam. Hail, Saphira! Shall we march out and test thy armor once again in the forge of war? Akh sartos oen durgrimst!"
"Vor Hrothgarz korda! Vor Hrothgarz korda!"
Finally, the battle turned in favor of the Varden. With the help of the dwarves, they pushed back the Empire, dividing and crushing them. The soldiers seemed to realize that fortune no longer smiled upon them, for hundreds surrendered, defected outright, or threw down their weapons and fled.
Then it happened: an ominous figure dispatched itself, and a giant, red dragon rose into the air. The man jumped on the back of his dragon, and an aerial battle ensued. Finally, the two Riders landed, and fought on the ground. Though the man fought valiantly, he was tired from a day of fighting, and the fresh Red Rider was more than a match for him. Finally, the Red Rider disarmed the man, and flourished his sword. The man lunged forward, and pulled off the Red Rider's helmet.
There, in the center of the plateau, on the edge of the Burning Plains of Alagaesia, stood Murtagh.
And therein lay the man's troubles. Murtagh, his companion, friend, and brother, was a traitor.
XXX
The man finished bathing, dressed, and walked out into the sun. A servant stood outside of his tent, and jumped up as the man walked past her.
"Sir!" she called, "the Lady Nasuada would like you to attend a meeting in her quarters!"
"Of course, young lady," replied the man, "Thank you for telling me."
When the man arrived at Nasuada's tent, he was greeted by Arya, Orik, Roran, King Orrin, and Lady Nasuada. He relayed all that he had learned from Murtagh, and of the fight itself. When he came to the most dreadful piece of information he had learned, his voice caught in his throat. However, he was forced to tell the group. As he shuddered, he did so:
"Morzan, first of the Forsworn and Galbatorix's right-hand man, is my father."
The five others sat there silently for a moment. Finally, Lady Nasuada broke the silence:
"Eragon, this truly is disturbing news. Are you positive?"
"Murtagh said it in the Ancient Language. As you well know, Lady Nasuada, you cannot lie in the Anicent Language. Though to no end it disturbs me, it is true. I am the son of Morzan, first and last of the Forsworn"
"No, Eragon," Arya broke in, "You are not the son of Morzan. Though he birthed you, you are the son of Garrow and brother of Roran. You are a good man."
"Yes," Roran concurred, "You are my brother, Eragon. And you would best do not to forget that, else I must pummel it into you."
"Nevertheless, it is better that we keep this fact, and the fact that Murtagh is the new Rider, under lock and key." sighed Nasuada, "From now on, we will not speak of Eragon's parentage. And we will refer to Murtagh as "The Red Rider."
XXX
As the people slowly filed out of her chambers, Lady Nasuada could not help but feel bad for them. They had all experience emotional troubles: Orik's king was killed, and he would now be the leader of his clan. Eragon found out that his father was Morzan. Roran's wife was kidnapped, and he led his entire village across half of Alagaesia. And Arya had to deal with her conflicting feelings for Eragon, while still making sure both could fulfill their duties as Rider and Princess. (A/N: Yes I am an Arya/Eragon shipper, but please feel free to mention what you think I should do with Eragon's relationship. Just know that I plan to match Eragon with the rider of the green dragon, so go ahead and give me some suggestions for the rider/relationship based on that fact.)
However, Nasuada thought she now how to deal with the most. Her one and only love, Murtagh, was now forced to work for King Galbatorix. He had slain the King of Dwarves, and nearly murdered Eragon. All of a sudden, she stood up.
"No," she said to herself, "Murtagh is now the enemy. And I will treat him as such."
And so, a sad Nasuada went back to work, knowing that one day, she would be forced to decide between her love, Murtagh, and the fate of all of Alagaesia.
XXX
As Eragon walked out, thinking to himself, he heard footsteps coming up behind him. He cautiously touched the conscious of the figure, wanting to make sure it wasn't Arya. Ever since that day after Agaeti Blodhren, he did not trust himself to control his feelings around Arya, and consequentially worked as hard as possible to avoid her. He relaxed as he recognized the thoughts of Roran, and stopped, letting his cousin catch up to him.
"Eragon!," Roran demanded, "When do you plan to go after Katrina?"
"Roran, you know how many duties I have to the Varden, dwarves, and elves. Still, I understand the pain you must be going through.
"Yeah, right."
"Please, Roran. I know that nothing like this has ever happened to me, but the trials and pains I have had to deal with to get to this point are unimaginable. So do not patronize me. As I was saying, I understand your need to rescue Katrina. Tomorrow, Roran. Tomorrow, after I heal Elva of that horrible curse I put on her, I will go with you to Helgrind, and rescue Katrina from the Ra'zac.
XXX
Well, that's it. 1,200 words excluding Author Notes and these notes at the bottom.
I have plenty of things to say, so please read on:
First off, I plan to continue this fiction. I would like multiple reviews, possibly 10 by the next update. Though I have many plans, and know where I am going with this fiction, I want all possible suggestions. Is Murtagh good or evil? Who kills Galbatorix? Should I do Murtagh POV? Eragon/Arya? Eragon/OC? Murtagh/Nasuada (yes, I know I hinted at it.)? And anything else.
As for the prophecies, I have great ideas for them both. I would like some suggestions on placement of the Rock of Kuthian, but I know exactly what I am doing with the Menoa prophecy. It's actually quite interesting, so please keep reading.
And as for the story itself, I will essentially follow the guide lines CP gave us. The prophecies, the Grey Folk, the Green Dragon, etc. I will consider doing a new egg or important OC if enough reviewers want it, but otherwise, probably not.
Anyways, this is my first fiction. Please R & R. Comment on my style, grammar, choice of words, structure, etc. Thanks so much for reading!
Fricai