Foundation
An Eragon Prequel
Foundation
Ceunon was a quiet town east of Carvahall by only a few miles. The people known to live there were hardy and intelligent. A strong sense of strength was bound to each and every one of those people. Originally from the Northern Wastelands, the people found refuge in the Palancar Valley, but soon after a much heated debate, the northerners were replaced with the people who now live in Carvahall. Ceunon was a green and lush village. The rivers that flowed through the town made it ideal for growing crops and fishing. Nearly everyone was a fishermen or a farmer. Because the people of Ceunon lived very near the woods of Du Weldenvarden, some of the villagers claimed to be enchanted with the elves songs when they heard them late in the evening. Jaren lived almost next to the Anora Lake. He lived with his father Hale and his sister Isabella. Hale was an old man by the time Isabella was born, the gray hairs spilled from his head like a woven spindle of stars. Isabella was fairest, her dirty blond hair neatly tied either in a pony-tail or curled out. They lived a most quaint and quiet life among themselves. Being so close to the Anora was a true treat for their needs, fish were caught daily, as well as wheat and barley for trading by their home. Jaren was the hunter and fisherman of the family. He was a stout man of twenty, and the curls of his auburn hair often clung to a straw hat his father had made him. He was muscled, tall, and quite fair to the women of the village. He woke and started his day normally, tending to the wheat fields and making sure the animals had not run out of food or water the previous evening. As he was tending to the animals Isabella came out, calling his name.
"Jaren, father has called for you"! Jaren set aside his corn bag and made his way into the wooden cottage. Hale was sitting in front of the fire, working his way through old writings and runes found on his yearly travels throughout the Empire. Jaren took off his hat and stood at the door to his fathers room.
"You called for me father?" he asked quietly. Hale hacked loudly and sniffed, speaking slowly and carefully in a elderly gentleman's fashion.
"Have you made enough arrows for our next hunt?" he asked. Jaren smiled and moved past the door.
"Yes father, a full four dozen to be precise. But be reasonable, you wont be able to hunt with me. Your health…" Hale scoffed and coughed hard.
"My health is diminishing because I am old! Do you not think I know that my bones ache every night from the fall cold? I am old, but I must provide Jaren". With another great cough Hale stood and moved to his bed.
"Come we must pack". Jaren went to Hale and put his hand on his shoulder.
"Father I am a man, and to be honest, you need rest. You would only fall behind, or slow us down. Let me go alone, I could probably fell twelve deer by weeks end". Hale laughed merrily.
"That you could my boy, that you could. And we would be rich beyond all compare. I cannot sway you, you truly are my son. Stubborn, yet providing. Go, and make me proud, but return before the weeks end, we still need to travel southwest to Carvahall for trade ins". Jaren nodded and happily kissed his fathers brow. Moving out the door he went to his own room and packed. Isabella stood and leaned on the doorframe. Jaren moved his hand to his nightstand and looked down shaking his head.
"My bow?" he said, containing his laughter. Isabella moved her slender hand up and down the frame, carefully sliding her fingertips over the bowstring.
"Twelve deer? By my head I would die a happy maiden". Jaren snatched it out of her hand.
"Just care for father, he grows weaker by the day, I fear soon that we will have to fend for ourselves". Isabella looked down, holding back the tears that would flow freely if she had not been stronger. Jaren embraced her, rubbing his hand down her back.
"Don't worry, I'll be back before the week is out, then we trek to Carvahall for money". He kissed her brow and left without saying another word.
The hunt was harder then Jaren had first suspected. Within two days he had found a game trail which led into the forest. He knelt by a stream and found fresh venison tracks leading east into the Elf kingdom of Du Weldenvarden. The stories of men gone missing in those woods clawed at his mind. He decided to wager his life for his family, and follow the trail. The woods were thick with undergrowth, and passage became nigh impossible to follow when he saw them. Seven deer in a small clearing not fifty feet away. Jaren was surprised he had not been heard and drew his yew bow. With precision and years of training he knocked his first arrow, pulled back on the string, sighted down the shaft and loosed it. The arrow whistled slightly and pierced a deer in the neck. The deer lost it's footing and tumbled, the rest of the herd fled immediately. Jaren smiled and knocked another, to make sure no predators were hiding nearby. He took the deer by its legs and carried it back to the edge of the forest. After another hour or two he had caught another deer, and fished four salmon from the stream. Satisfied he had done all he could, and his food stock was rapidly diminishing, he packed and returned home.
"Wonderful! A brace of deer and fish! This truly is an amazing feat, with this and our harvest we could sell top price" Hale exclaimed. Jaren and Isabella were happy as well. With their travel cart ready and the goods neatly stowed, the family of three traveled to Carvahall, whistling as they went.