Calling in Brisingr!
I used to have this dream, that I would grow up, and leave this town to explore beyond the drawn confines of the map of Alagaësia, where the Dragon Riders of old would travel, bringing back treasures hordes of adventure, discovery and, most importantly, enlightenment. I would spend hours in my father's study, sitting on a pile of some of his books, yet to be sorted, telling him a story that rose from my mind to my tongue like steam from a kettle to drift away into the world. Bent over his potions, I flattered myself that he was listening so intently that he was struggling to remember which concoction had to be combined with which, and would inevitably lead to a loud whoosh and a splutter of smoke as his robe caught fire. My mother would rush in, and take me out, despite my protests as my father doused the flames with magic.
My parents are magicians, but secret ones. If they were discovered, King Galbatorix would instantly suck them into the black hole of his court, and use their powers for convulsive plans, so to keep away from the court, they kept their powers within the house, and became physicians to attempt to put their powers for the force of good. Until recently, I didn't know that they supported the Varden by sending various potions and ensuring the safe delivery of food supplies from Furnost through the desert, which explained either one of them disappearing every month for a week.
Despite these unusual circumstances, and the inheritance of magical ability my brother and I received from birth (apparently, when I was first given to my mother, I flicked my arm, causing her hair to go grey, then red. It's still red to this day.), I believe that we had a normal upbringing. I made lots of friends amongst the girls, with whom I walked to the nearby lake together, sitting on the bank, exchanging news about current affairs, local and empire-wide, and laughing whenever one of us accidently fell in, because of the steep banks.
My brother and I were taught how to read and write, as well as how to control and apply our magic, mathematics, geography, and the history of Alagaësia. This last was my favourite, as it foretold how the Riders rose and fell, as well as how humans and elves arrived to this land from a faraway place, fast followed by the Urgals, who my father portrayed as creatures who loved war, but loved home even more, just like humans. It was forbidden to discuss such topics, as King Galbatorix's iron fist could only stay tight if his race was ignorant of what this fist had done, but my father was a brave man, as was my mother was a stubborn woman who insisted that we learnt "so someone can bring that cursed and befuddled man to his senses by being his equal".
So it was how I spent the first fifteen years of my life, any true power struggles in Alagaësia I was aware of, but only in the same way one sees a scene through a pane of glass; it's difficult to know what was really happening unless you see it with your own eyes, causing me to have a happy but uneasy childhood.
The evenings were beginning to become longer, the sunshine just that little more weaker every day as my fifteenth birthday crept upon us all, the question of my womanhood crouching on the roof of the house, my father being forced to interview various local men for me to be married off to, which wasn't at all to his taste, and ended up throwing them all out, without seeing more than three of them, shouting, "She's not ready! I'm not ready! And you're all DEFINITELY not ready!" This episode was passed around solemnly around the village; sympathy was offered to me from all directions, and I could hear tiny whispers that I would end up being an old maid if my father didn't comply to marrying me off.
Yet I didn't mind if he didn't. As I was out in Furnost with my mother, looking for a suitable dress for me to come of age in for the ceremony four days from then, my mind had almost completely been sewn up; as soon as I had to chance, I was going to stretch those boundaries the map was constricted to, and go and find the mysterious new Rider everyone was talking about.
Apparently, he was only a little short of sixteen, and was from the Spine towards the North-West. He also shared the same name with the first Dragon Rider, Eragon, giving him almost a prophecy quality in my mind. I had to admit, despite taking no interest in the men in my village, a boy I had never met took on extraordinary shape in my mind. The wanted posters portrayed him with thick eyebrows, brown hair and an honest, intelligent face, which I couldn't help but like, despite the fierce expression he was given to induce fears amongst others.
But my mind wasn't completely sewn up. I didn't want to leave my family, because despite the strength of my wanderlust, the strength of home was an anchor to my ship, ready to sail away, just how an Urgal is always called home after battle. I could just see my parents' faces now; pleading, eyes wide, body tense, then when I force myself to shake my head, they visibly slump, eyes close, acceptance and anger emanating them like heat from flames. And my brother? I think he would probably either insist on coming with me, making sure I didn't die, perhaps, or punch me.
I think this decision was made for me, as my father suddenly disappeared the day I bought the dress. This wasn't unusual, as I said one or the other parent often disappeared through my childhood. However, this time was special, as he didn't wear the normal expression; his eyes were bright, black hair all alight, apprehension tensing everything else about him, accentuating the expression on his face. I instantly suspected him, and pestered him about it, but he would tell me nothing. Maybe childishly, I hoped he was going to buy me a really magnificent birthday present; a book, perhaps, or maybe even a dog. We had never had a pet, which saddened me, as I like animals. They have far more scope than humans, particularly in areas where we should be wide awake. We did have two horses, but everyone who has the money to look after them do as well.
Sometimes I wish I could descend into the house in the early hours of that day that would change so much, with so little, and warn myself what would come, that I should step into those boots with more wisdom than I did then, so I could do my parents prouder at times when I didn't at all. Yet then I suppose I would not have learnt anything that way, and I think I would have been even more spooked than I was already.