This is my brithday gift to myself. A new story, with a new trailer to match. Links to said trailer and a playlist in my homepage. I'm all excited. These chapters are sooo long.

The elf bit back a groan as the wind shifted, sending more sand flying into his face and biting at his arms. The hot, cruel sun beat against the poor elf's back, and his body ached for water. But still, the elf rode on, his back cramping from being hunched over.

Behind him, he heard a foretelling and deafening roar. It startled his steed, but the elf kicked it, urging it faster still. The land almost flew beneath them and the elf found a small glimmer of hope that maybe, by some miracle, he would escape the horrible fate that surely awaited him should he be captured.

But as he felt his steed falter underneath him, collapsing to the ground a moment later, the elf knew that he would not make it out of this unscathed, and more than likely would be dead by the end of this. Acting quickly, he grabbed the pack that had been attached to his saddle, pulling himself out from under the fallen horse and circling upon his enemy, who had dismounted his dragon and was walking towards him, smiling ruthlessly.

The elf stood his ground, keeping eye-contact with the dark-haired dragon-rider. He held his pack close to his chest, waiting until the perfect opportunity. "Give it up," his combatant yelled at him, "You know what I want, and you know what I'll do to get it. So I suggest just giving me the egg... now."

The elf smirked as he spoke the words to himself, sending the rider into a fit of cursing when he realized what the elf was doing. But that fit of cursing gave the elf just the time he needed. By the time the rider finally calmed enough to react, there was a bright flash of white light, and the bundle had disappeared from the elf's grasp.

Angry and just the smallest bit scared, the dark-haired companion yelled the first word that came to his mind, "GARJZLA!" But he did not feel satisfied when the elf fell to the ground, burnt and blackened by his dark-red flame. The egg was gone, and Galbatorix would not be happy to hear that he had lost it.

Don't worry, Murtagh, Thorn spoke, nuzzling his rider's shoulder, It can't have gone too far. The elf was weak from travel, and did not have enough energy to send it more than a few miles away. We'll find it. Nodding to himself and comforted by his friend's assurance, he swung onto Thorn's neck, sliding back into his saddle as his dragon took to the sky, roaring a warning to all who dare touch the egg.

Carefully running my tongue across the front of my teeth, I clipped my horse into the neatly-polished crossties. The large, bay Andalusion nickered at the feeling of a brush against his flanks, but I ignored him. Today was just one of those days when nothing is going right and all I want to do is hop on this horse bareback and take off galloping through the trails surrounding our stable. And that's exactly what I plan to do, thank you very much.

With a huge sigh, Pappy let his head hang back down, obviously displeased at my lack of affection. Having had Pappy for three years, still with the hope that I'll grow into him, he's come to understand my body-language fairly well. When I don't respond to his hopeful whinny, it means that I'm not in the mood for mistakes or lip from him. It means when I bother to put the saddle on, he'd better not shift and complain, even if I tighten his girth a little tighter than it should be. It means him nuzzling my shoulder won't make me laugh and give him a sugar cube before I put the bridle on - it just means I'm going to get angrier.

Pappy, full name Padre de Fuego et Vuelo, is probably the only one who gets to see this crazy-bitch side of me. At school I have to be a cute, pretty little debutante who gets to do everything any girl could possibly want - art classes, fencing, singing lessons, equestrian, and all funded by my mother's inheritance. Two 'perfect' brothers, three 'perfect' sisters, and a staunch Catholic upbringing complete the façade, and it all leaves me, Liaden Mary Josephine Ardal, very tired and occasionally depressed.

I mean, it's all cool, but I could do without the singing and the art classes and the reputation. I like fencing, and Pappy, and I absolutely adore hanging out with my brothers, but everything else seems... superfluous. Did I mention the mandatory tutoring to ensure my flawless grades and additional college appeal? I swear, if it weren't for my brothers, I'd be one of those kids who goes to college and goes so crazy she can't pull herself out of it because she never learned to say no in high school.

Luckily, I do have my older brothers, who are determined that I will go to college a street-smart, independent and strong girl who will not be taken advantage of at a frat party. When my parents leave us alone, they both break into little rants, mixing up millions of drinks and then attempting to teach me street fighting. Too bad they're about as gangster as the British exchange student who lives down the street. And that's combined.

Not that I'm any better, I'm a little Irish girl from Montgomery, New York. But of course, Pappy took this time to nicker and remind me that I wasn't finished tacking him up yet. With one swift movement, I grabbed his bridle and slipped the bit into his large mouth, my hand holding his nose steady so he couldn't throw it up and spit out the metal assaulting his mouth. Not that he would; not while I'm in this mood.

Because, you see, I have a very stupid boyfriend, and he's not even my boyfriend, really. Technically, he's another girl's boyfriend, but he's my lab partner, and he and I are extremely attracted to each other. Garrett, predictably enough, should be my perfection counterpart. He's got this wavy blonde hair and an unbelievable body, thanks to all the sports he manages to find time to do. Sadly enough, he's dating the school's resident 'tortured artist,' and he claims he can't break up with her because she just might kill herself in that 'tortured artist' way.

I say it's bullshit - I've known Jen since she was four - the girl wouldn't climb the rope in gym class for fear she'd hurt herself, so much for slitting her wrists in the bathtub. I mean, sure, she'll cry, she'll whine, she'll write a few nasty, possibly suicidal poems, and then I can walk hand-in-hand with my boyfriend through the halls and not feel like a total home-wrecker. It's not anything special - every girl whines and cries when they've been broken up with.

And it's one thing to refuse breaking up with her - I guess if you didn't go to preschool with the girl, it might be hard to imagine she's not actually some over-dramatic painter who wears those arm bands for a reason. But no, Gar refuses to even try and make her break up with him, something that would be totally understandable!

Needless to say, Gar and I got into a fight about this before I left - prom is coming up, and he's very insistent that he'll have ditched Jen by then, but he won't guarantee that I'll be his date, or even tell me how he plans on getting her to ditch him. It isn't a completely unreasonable request - this I know, but still he won't tell me.

I know I should just dump him and all, but he's just so... irresistible. He doesn't treat me like the fragile little girl that every other guy has treated me as; that's bound to come with some questionable behavior, right? I'm just not used to being treated as anything more substantial than a china doll, and I'm not used to it. At least, that's what I tell myself.

With another shrill whinny, I led Pappy out of the barn, my body noticeably tensed as I turned the corner and headed for the fence, which I'd have to use to get on him. The mounting block couldn't get me up high enough to swing my leg over his back without stirrups; that's how tall my horse is in comparison to me.

"Oi, Lee, meh lovely little lassie, where are ya takin' that beast?" I heard the distinctive accent of the farmhand, Connor, call to me, and I spotted him far across pasture from where I was mounting. Connor was a kind boy; no older than twenty, he called me his lovely little lassie and didn't try and deny that he was born in good ol' Ireland, the mother country.

I smirked at Connor's goofy walk, a distinctive characteristic of his that I've never found out the source of. It's almost like his right leg is continually asleep, but not to the point of a limp. "I'm taking him out on the trails. Probably down Old Creek and across the bridge to the tracks and then back up Tierney," I recited my normal angry-cause-my-boyfriend-is-a-jerk trail. Walking it would take about three hours, but at my pace I'll be back in time for my parents to pick me up.

"Good girl, meh lovely little lassie," Connor called back. It was mandatory to tell someone what trails you were taking when going out, for safety reasons. I had taken to leaving a note on the message board as opposed to spending twenty minutes trying to find a trainer who would pay attention, but having Connor know was a bonus. A very unimportant bonus.

Swinging my leg carefully over Pappy's back and using his mane to pull myself the rest of the way up, I found myself much taller than before as I sat atop my gelding. With one raised hand, meant to be a farewell to Connor, I kicked Pappy into a long, slow trot. Technically, I'm not supposed to trot or canter on trails, and especially not bareback alone, but hell, Pappy's my horse, and he's so smooth it's like riding in a car. It's not like I'm going trailblazing, or anything. It's totally safe.

Pappy's long gait took us down the paved driveway into the stable and we turned down onto 'Old Creek', which was quite seriously an old creek that had dried up and was used as a dirt trail. It led, eventually, to what was left of the creek, which was more of a river, and the covered bridge that crossed it. Really, it's all very picturesque; green trees, serene river, red-painted covered bridge. Too bad I'm not going to stay still long enough to see any of it.

Tightening my legs and using one hand to take a cautionary hold at the base of Pappy's mane, I clicked my tongue and squeezed my heels in true elegant-rider form, leaning back to keep my balance as Pappy started to canter obediently down the trail, sending rocks flying every which way out from under us.

And as my hair flew backwards, into the wind, it was like my thoughts flew away with it; I felt like I could laugh, cry, or even just sit and fall away into a world where the only thing that mattered was the rhythm of Pappy's gait, his long legs slapping against the ground and carrying me a little further away from reality.

We hit the bridge in almost no time, and I pulled Pappy down into a trot, my arms relaxing, and my breath coming freely. I sat a little straighter, with a bit more pride than I had when I started, and I wondered if Gar would be willing to sneak away from his precious Lillian for more than a few seconds so I could give him one loud, painful piece of my mind once again. And maybe coax Pappy into kicking him, that part is undecided.

I was in the middle of pulling my cell phone out of my pocket when everything around me changed. With a sound like a gunshot and the strange feeling of my organs rearranging themselves, a bright white flashed in the middle of the covered bridge, not ten feet in front of Pappy and I. I screamed as I flew backwards with Pappy's rearing motion, my mind immediately assuming that a bomb had gone off. It was the only explanation to the sudden force, the inexplicable heat, that surged through me.

Pappy whinnied desperately, and I rolled out of the way as he continued to rear backwards, nearly toppling over onto his back. I figured the worst as I clutched to the post, listening to my horse's panicked cries as he tried to get out of the bridge. It was painful, knowing I couldn't help him until he, finally, managed to turn and take off galloping for the end of the bridge. I wasn't sure where he'd go - if he'd follow the road, or retreat back to the safety of Old Creek trail. If I was lucky he'd wait for me at the end of the bridge, but I don't expect too much. He's a horse - he's got a prey instinct that I have to accept.

As the light suddenly died, I chanced to open my eyes, expecting nothing less than a destroyed bridge and charred pieces of wood floating down the river. But instead I was greeted with a sight that was almost... comforting. There was no charred wood, no shattered bridge, and it most definitely wasn't heaven. No, no, the bridge was completely intact and unharmed. That was as comforting as it got.

In the place that was roughly where the light originated from, though, was a round, smooth, polished stone. It shimmered from a source of light, though which source I can't be sure, and resembled a large, perfectly smoothed emerald. Carefully, curiously, I slowly started to make my way towards it. Really, I should have run away; every piece of common sense was screaming the command at me.

But I was entranced, utterly enthralled, by the egg. It was, well, it was almost magical, the way it shimmered and winked at me, like it wanted me to come closer. Of course, the stone wanting anything from me at all should have scared me into listening to my sense. But the stone... it didn't want to hurt me. It just wanted me to come nearer, to touch it.

Again, the fact that I sensed it wanting anything should have sent me in the other direction, but honestly I wasn't thinking very far passed 'ohmygod shiny.' Even the explosion that I could still hear reverberating through the trees didn't register; it just wasn't important. The rock wanted me to touch it - that as all I cared about.

And yet, a few seconds later, the spell was broken by a stomp on the wooden boards, sending a physical shock through me. Gasping, I rolled onto my back and watched as my horse reared in the entrance of the covered bridge before settling back down, pawing at the ground, like some strange version of the Headless Horseman. It didn't strike me as odd that my normally very instinctual horse was suddenly defying all instinct and waiting for me. My mind was still half on the stone.

I glanced between the emerald and my horse, knowing I should get back to the stable as soon as possible. Upon hearing the explosion, Connor would be after me like a shot, hopping on the first available horse, even if he wasn't the best trail-rider in the world. A shot or an explosion meant I was almost definitely hurt, and since he was the person who knew where I was, he'd be the one to come and try to find me.

Sighing, I also knew I just couldn't leave this breathtaking stone for someone else to take. It was just... impossible. I wouldn't leave without it. And so, quite determined, I scooped the egg into my jacket and stood, walking on shaky legs towards my horse, marveling at how heavy the stone was but immediately pushing the thought from my mind; if I think about it, it'll just seem heavier, and I'm not leaving it behind.

Looking up at my horse, Pappy continued to paw at the ground nervously, shaking his black mane and throwing his forelock every which way. I let out a single breath before running my tongue over my top teeth; to attempt to ride him and get out his energy, or to not risk breaking the stone? I could try and somehow use a vine to secure the stone or something. That is, if I can find a vine big enough to fit around Pappy's belly, and the monster stone.

Or maybe I should just walk along, carrying it all the way back. Ridiculous, I don't have that much energy, I thought to myself. And whether or not I do, I should not be expending that much energy. It's dangerous, and if I drop this stone on my foot I'll hate it but I'll still carry it anyways, so just... no.

Distantly, I heard the sounds of horse's hooves beating against the ground in a frenzied, sporadic way that could only mean an un-worked stallion and galloping. Don't ask how I know these things; horses just come naturally to me. It's like I speak their language fluently, English being my second language.

A few minutes later and I'd decided to wait for aid, as it was probably Connor and he'd be all flustered with me moving around and riding after an explosion. I should also probably lie about how close I was to the explosion. I hope I'm not all scorched and charred. That would be a turn-off.

With a few hoof beats so loud they nearly shook the ground, Connor burst around the bend atop a jumpy-looking Casper, a cremello staillion that was soon to be snipped. "Oh thank the Lord, Lee, you're alright," he breathed, his dark brown curls sticking out at odd angles under his helmet. Swinging his leg off the horse, he hurried closer to me, Casper fighting him every short, hurried step of the way, "Yeh alright? We heard an explosion at the barn; I grabbed the first horse who was tacked and came straight out."

I rolled my eyes, "I'm fine, Connor. Not a scratch on me." Though I do feel a few splinters in the back of my arm. "But yeah, I heard what you're talking about – freaked out Pappy intensely, so I hopped off him." Better not mention that I fell off, too. Connor's a bit of a worry wart.

"And what've ya got," Connor questioned, gesturing to my stone. Yes, yes, it's my stone. I found it, and it most definitely has no name on it. This stone is mine, mine, mine. I just… I know it was meant for me. And I'm not in the habit of denying myself what I'm entitled too.

All this made me very apprehensive to show it to Connor, but I forced the paranoia to the back of my mind, "I just… found it in the middle of a trail. Weird, huh?" I held it out for his inspection, "I think it's just a really awesome stone, but I wanted to take it with me." Connor's eyes lit up in the same way I'm sure mine had, dark brown rimmed with white and flecked with a deep scarelet. Really, Connor has very pretty eyes. It's not important, just an interesting fact.

"It's awe-inpsiring," Connor replied, reaching out to hold to cradle the stone in his hands. The weight didn't seem to bother him, and he brought it closer, to study it, "Are you sure it isn't some sort of egg? It feels too smooth to just be a polished rock."

"What kind of egg would that be," I questioned, almost puzzled. I'd felt rocks that smooth before, really. I don't know what Connor's talking about. Besides, if it was an egg, it would've exploded in the blast and it would not have been in the middle of the bridge. "Besides, if it was an egg, it would not have been in the middle of the… path."

"I guess you're right, but I don't know," Connor responded, handing the stone back to me, "It just fills so… full of life, you know? Like a… pregnant woman." I smiled, openly amused at Connor's chioce of words as he scratched at the back of his neck, "Well, I guess we should get back to the stable. Amethyst was there, looking for you. Guess she'll be happy to have you back, and then I can go home."

My brow furrowed as I watched Connor turn, his long leg easily pulling him back up into the stirrup. "You're done for the day?"

Wordlessly, I led Pappy towards Casper, hoping that Casper's testosterone wouldn't surge and cause a fight. With an air of carelessnes, Connor threw his leg up onto his horse's shoulder, leaving me the stirrup and reaching an arm down to accept the stone, "Yeh, I was in the car ready to leave when I heard the explosion. I'd thought my car had backfired for a minute."

Balancing the stone precariously between his legs, Connor hunched over to offer me his arm, which I was in no position to deny. Awkwardly looping my arm through Pappy's reins, I tried to think of a response as Connor and I joined to pull myself onto Casper's back. "Oh, well… sorry."

Yeah, that was the best I could manage as I tried to readjust myself into sitting side saddle, clicking my tongue and stiffening when Casper edged forward at Connor's command. Horses, I'm good with. Side-saddling is a horribly different than riding. Sitting side saddle is one way of dismounting, a distinctly different process.

"It's alright; I'd rather know you were safe than get home earlier, especially since Amethyst was looking for you, and if you two were both hurt, well…" Connor trailed off as I leaned forward, attempting to shimmy Pappy's reins over his head before half-slipping, half-jumping off Casper and onto Pappy's back.

I grimaced at the painful shock that shot through my pelvis, but ignored it as Connor brought Casper in a circle around my back, "I told her I'd bring you back. I think she wanted us all to go riding, or something." I rolled my eyes to myself as the egg rolled down Connor's arm and into my welcoming embrace.

Amethyst was my best friend by far. A hippie and bleeding heart by nature, I like to think she and I were alike, or would be if it wouldn't completely through my reputation down the drain, and what was left of my social life with it. Most recently, her project was Connor, whom she was convinced needed a girlfriend.

So now whenever she and I are at the barn together, we spend the entire time that we're not in lessons hanging out with Connor, trying to find out as much as possible about him so that we could match him up with a non-slutty girl at school who will work with him. I say we, but I really mean Amy. I don't have time for this when I have all my other obligations; I'm surprised I find time for riding every day.

My stone resting firmly between my right thigh and left hand, I dug a heel into Pappy's side and he started in a lazy, plodding walk, slowing to Casper's pace for his sake completely. I glanced up at him, "So, you're going to go riding with me and Amy?"

Connor laughed openly, throwing his head back and almost drinking the humor in, "I don't have a choice about it, I think. She's very commanding, just like you."

I pouted, "I am not commanding; I am sweet and thoughtful and not pushy." Connor started to laugh louder, and I muttered, "At least, I am when I'm not here."

Hide underneath my blanket and sheets; I'm finally free.
I'm killing the ghost of you, and I'm awakening me.
Bleed by Anna Nalick