Inheritance Character Correction University
By Kaldaka
Disclaimer: This is a parody. That means that while the characters technically belong to Christopher Paolini, in this story I am going to write funny (and potentially silly and cruel) things about them (and quite possibly C. P. too) and he can't do anything about it. Be warned- when Miss Kell's wrath is aroused, major violence is likely to ensue. Some mild language, mostly when teachers are provoked.
Chapter 1- A Rude Awakening
The room was completely silent. In the corner, on a small cot, a blond-haired boy sometimes called Eragon Shadeslayer lay sleeping. Really, it's kind of ridiculous that he's called that, but you know, plot holes do happen. His eyebrows sat before the table, hurriedly writing more descriptions of themselves for the upcoming book, supposedly titled Empire. And that, you know, is the original author's fault. I never have dangling eyebrows. My eyebrows stay firmly where they belong. Most of the time. Even though engaged in such an important task, when a green dragon snaked its head through the open door and into the room they were startled enough to jump back where they belonged above Eragon's eyes.
As the dragon proceeded to grip Eragon's shirt and drag him across the floor, he woke up and started yelling in complete terror.
And you're the hero. The dragon's voice echoed through his head, and he yelped in fright.
"Are you Shruikan?" he whimpered.
Oh dear, the dragon said, sympathy in its voice. This is the first time I've actually pitied Miss Underleaf. I'm green, idiot. Don't even you know Shruikan is black? Come on. With that, it dropped Eragon onto its back, where a saddle was conveniently placed, and took off. As it rose into the air, other dragons joined it, some oddly colored, each carrying Inheritance characters on it.
For a moment, Eragon saw Arya riding a hot pink dragon, and his heart leaped. Then she stuck out her tongue and he winced. The dragon chuckled deep in its throat, and he felt the vibrations. After what seemed ages, the dragons started to circle. One by one they descended to land on a green field just long enough to tumble their riders off and then take off again, vanishing in mid-takeoff.
Eragon gasped as he hit the ground, the wind knocked out of him as he rolled into Murtagh, who was jumping up. Murtagh growled something under his breath and gave him a hand up before hurrying away towards the relative safety of the steps of the huge castle before them. Personally, I don't know why Murtagh bothers.
"Neither do I," Murtagh yelled up at the sky. Which is ridiculous, because the Author never, ever sits in the sky. They prefer to remain invisibly following along with their beloved- or not so beloved- characters, often poking them in the right direction. Besides, he couldn't have really heard me.
"Ha," Murtagh snorted. "I hear every word you say." I begin to sense a slight problem. He'll have to be silenced.
Eragon, not knowing what else to do, followed him. Soon all of the characters were milling around, uncertain of what to do and where they were- not to mention how they had gotten there. Which was kind of stupid, as they had all woken up on a dragon, so obviously they had gotten here by dragon. Duh! Some of the dragons had resorted to knocking them out before seating them, apparently.
Arya walked over to a large willow whose branches were stirring ominously. Just as she reached out to stroke one of the branches, a brisk voice rang out. I had to save her for the rest of the story- but don't worry, she'll get what's coming her someday- I hope.
"I wouldn't touch that if I were you!" Everyone turned and stared at the woman walking towards them, instinctively drawing close together. "That's the Whomping Willow, you see. It's been known to do strange things to people. Such as beat them black and blue." By now the woman was standing near them. She smiled pityingly at them. "Welcome to Hogwarts. We've requisitioned it and the characters for a few classes to turn you into good characters."
"But… we are good characters!" Brom protested.
"And where's Sapphira?
"Thorn?"
"Shruikan?" the owners asked, anxious about their dragons.
"And where's Hogwarts?" Everyone turned and looked expectantly at the woman, who took a deep breath.
"Hogwarts is a wizarding school from another series- a good series. No, you are not good characters. The dragons had to be sedated for transportation. I believe Charles Weasley and his friends should be arriving with them soon." She smiled brightly at Galbatorix, Murtagh, and Eragon, who looked like they'd seen ghosts or whatever equivalent thing there was in Alagaesia- it gets really confusing when everyone is an atheist, you know- except for the dwarves, who rock.
The rest merely looked like they'd seen something horrible. Very horrible. Which would be the fact that Miss Celia's hair was changing colors- occasionally even the most serious authors like to indulge in omnipotence.
"My name is Celia Underleaf, General Manager of Inheritance Character Correction University. Welcome to your first day." A general babbling broke out as Miss Celia exited back through the huge front doors and everyone broke up into groups, automatically seeking comfort among their own.
Murtagh, Elva, Durza, Arya and several Urgals all clustered together, while to one side of them the Varden, Eragon and several other 'good guys' gathered. It was perhaps inevitable that on the other side Galbatorix, the Ra'zac and the rest of the 'bad guys' huddled, shooting baleful glances at the good guys and the 'inbetween.'
It wasn't long before the doors opened again and three people walked out. In the middle was a towering man, fully twice the size of the other two, both of whom were fairly tall themselves. He carried a pink, flowered umbrella that he held warily in front of himself as he circled them to the back.
Of the other two, one was a handsome man with long black hair, sparkling eyes, and a wand that he held carelessly as he moved to one side of the door, and the other a redheaded man who looked anxiously around him, his wand firmly held as he moved opposite the black haired man.
"Aw' righ', move on!" the giant man behind them roared, poking at them with his umbrella. "Into the hall!" Nervously, the characters scurried along, herded by the giant behind and the two men on either side of the door. As they passed through the hall and into the dining hall, Harry pulled Celia aside.
"Miss Underleaf?" he asked nervously.
"Yes?"
"I have a question."
"Um-hum?" Harry pointed to Eragon reluctantly.
"Is… is that the hero?" he questioned. Her face turned grim and she nodded slowly and sadly.
"I'm afraid so."
"But… but… he's a bloody vegetarian!"
"Mr. Potter, Dudley Dursley has been affecting your language," she reproved gently. She paused a moment, then added kindly. "I know what you mean. I'd really rather not have to deal with this bunch. But you know what the contract says. 'I hereby promise to aid all hopeless authors by giving their characters classes as outlined below." Harry still looked anxious.
"Bloody hell," he said. "And I'm supposed to teach him heroism. Bloody, bloody hell."
"Mr. Potter," Celia said reprovingly. And she was quite right. You can't teach heroism and be constantly cursing as well. All right, maybe you can. But you're bound to come up with some twisted characters. Come to think of it, that just might help Inheritance. Hmm…..