I do not own anything originally created by C. Paolini. This is fanfiction, it was written for pleasure, not profit.
A young boy of ten was sitting in the sunlight, looking skyward. He was sitting in a wagon, but the wagon had no horse. Instead, the wagon's wheels were being propelled by magic. Magic baffled the boy, but the man next to him, no, the elf next to him had mumbled a few words, and off the wagon had went. The weather today didn't reflect the boy's attitude at all, it was far too sunny out while the boy was quite downtrodden. "I never thought I could be both so bored and so anxious at the same time." The boy reflected.
The boy's name was Eragon. Eragon was feeling both eager and apprehensive, both bold and afraid. Here he was, sitting next to an elf in this wagon, just passing Therinsford, and heading to his destiny. He had lived in a small town in the northern-most part of the Alliance of Alagaesia his entire life. He lived on the outskirts of Carvahall with his uncle Garrow and cousin Roran his entire life. When he was five though, his aunt Marian had died of a sickness, and three years ago, his brother Murtagh had left on a wagon just like the one he was sitting in. "I may be leaving home… but at least I'll finally see Murtagh again. And I'll be leaving behind the stares."
While Eragon was disappointed with leaving Roran and Garrow, the rest of the town was rather awkward with him. He was the son a Dragon Rider after all, but at the same time, people still saw him as a bastard. His lineage had little weight without his parents married in the traditional human way. And there were no angry parents to fear, Morzan had died at the hands of the infamous Shade Durza, before Eragon was even born. Selena died shortly after in childbirth with Eragon. Orphaned and alone, the rare offspring of a Dragon Rider, Murtagh and Eragon, were sent to live with their closest relatives.
After years of camaraderie with Roran and Murtagh, Eragon's heart went cold at Murtagh's departure. The Riders had maintained their Era of Peace for centuries, but they still needed recruits, and the children of Riders, though rare, almost always became Riders themselves. And so Murtagh left. He was apprehensive as well, as any ten year old would be at the thought of leaving home and joining an ancient order of peacekeepers and warriors, but Murtagh wanted his own legacy.
A shadow of doubt clouded Eragon's hope of seeing his brother again. What if I'm not capable? What if no dragon chooses me? What if I die? These thoughts tormented Eragon, and had been tormenting him ever since Murtagh left. He would find out soon, though, as Therinsford was passing from view and Utgard, a Rider Stronghold, came into sight.
With a startle, Eragon hopped in his seat at the sound of a deep grumble. "Was that the sound of a dragon?" Eragon pondered, and the elf next to him chuckled.
"Yes child, that was a dragon." He stated in a rich, regal voice. The elf's movements were fluid and powerful, almost otherworldly.
"Sir," Eragon began, "What may I call you?"
"Faolin. I hail from Ellesmera, and I am normally a guard for my King and Queen's ambassadors, but I was in the area and volunteered to escort you to Utgard." Faolin answered in his rich voice.
Eragon quieted again, but was still unsure of himself. His doubt was fueled again by things like his race; after all, this elf he was next to was surely a far better soldier than he was. How could he even begin to compete with other Riders at such a young age?
As the wagon slowed, however, Eragon knocked himself out of his stupor and replaced his worry with confidence. He would be better off optimistic; at the very least, he would go home and live with Roran and Garrow again. Either a dragon egg would choose him, or it wouldn't choose him.
As the wagon came completely to a stop, Eragon climbed confidently out of the wagon. He held his head high for a second as Faolin followed him off the wagon, but he quickly lost his steady disposition as a great booming filled the air. Over the top of the jagged peak and tower, a massive brown dragon came into view. The dragon was larger than some buildings, and atop the regal beast sat a small figure, completely dwarfed by its gargantuan mount.
The dragon dove toward the two on the ground and gracefully landed at the foot of the mountain. The Rider dismounted and walked toward Eragon and Faolin. "He's so tall! He's at least six and a three quarters feet! And his dragon is so massive!" Eragon thought with wonder. "Is this what a true Rider looks like?" Eragon was awed with the hero before him. He wore light armor, and a great long sword with a brown diamond fixed into the pommel was sheathed at his hip.
"Greetings, Eragon. I'm glad you came." The Rider spoke with power in his voice. "My name is Irnstad, and this is Galzra." He motioned to the dragon towering behind him. "The Riders currently have four dragon eggs given to us by the dragons. We usually only have two or three, but two of these eggs have been waiting for their Riders for over a hundred years." He was holding a short, wide chest graciously in his strong arms. He laid it on the ground before Eragon and opened it.
Inside were four very large eggs, each appearing as if a large gemstone with white veins running through them. Various sparkling colors met Eragon's eyes: one, a deep bronze; one a forest green jewel; another was a shade of brown similar to Galzra. The last was sapphire blue, a shade that Eragon lost himself in. He was almost transfixed when Irnstad spoke again.
"Don't touch any, but run your hand over them." Eragon did as he was commanded, and when he reached the sapphire egg again, he felt a kind of pulse from it, and a feeling of rightness. "Did you feel anything when you put your hand over one of the eggs?" Irnstad continued. Eragon nodded, and Irnstad smiled as he said, "Take off your glove and put your hand onto the egg you felt something from."
Eragon shakily pulled his glove off and laid his hand on the egg. For a few moments, nothing happened. Then the egg began to quiver. Then it cracked. The next thing Eragon knew, the egg had nearly split in half, and a dragon hatchling tumbled out. The glittering blue creature looked unsteady on it's new feet, but once it righted itself, it looked expectantly at Eragon. Eragon, slightly unsure of himself, reached out to touch the hatchling. His right hand barely grazed the dragon before his arm burst into a pain that seeped into the rest of his body. He fell down in his bout of agony, but the pain lasted barely a second, and Eragon was soon on his knees again. Through the last ghost of pain, he looked at the palm of the hand he had touched the dragon with and saw a silver mark that had not been there before. This mark was the mark of a Rider. He was a Rider. He looked to his dragon and smiled weakly.
The Two Riders
Eragon and Faolin were back in the wagon, except now their number had increased. With them was a small, blue dragon hatchling. After shortly returning to Carvahall to gather his belongings and say goodbye, the elf had taken him in his wagon again at twice the speed as before, shortly arriving in Daret for supplies. Irnstad had flown ahead to Ilirea, to inform the other Riders of Eragon's success. At the speed the wagon was going, they would be in Ilirea within two weeks. Until then, they would be limited to few rest stops.
Eragon was in a daze. So much had happened in the last few days. It all felt right, though. He was at peace with his dragon, the low, murmuring emotions in the back of his head. He now had a companion for life, one that reached deep into his soul, and he reached deep into its soul too. He had been born again.
A week passed, and Eragon had become very fond of Faolin. He was very kind and humorous, despite (to Eragon's surprise) being over a hundred years old. He was a talented warrior and magician, and came from a noble elfish family. He even described the basics of magic to Eragon when asked. Eragon listened raptly of the Ancient Language, to which everyone and everything had a name. Faolin conveniently left out that all Dragon Riders could perform magic also, as Riders didn't normally learn this until part-way through their training.
A few days before the end of their journey, Eragon received a major shock when he heard a voice inside his head. "Eragon." It spoke, over and over. Upon realizing it was his hatchling talking to him, Eragon felt that much closer to the dragon discovering the telepathic link. Eragon was a bit confused as to why it kept saying his name, and after attempting to access his telepathic link, Eragon decided that the dragon finally needed a name.
"Faolin, how many dragon names do you know of?" Eragon questioned, shortly after they had reached the flat plains of land near Ilirea. The wagon traveled easily over the long grass and low hills of which the plains were composed.
"Traditionally," Faolin began, ever smiling, "The Rider's dragons have been named in the Ancient Language, ever since the first Rider, an elf also named Eragon, named his dragon Bid'Daum. Some male dragons I've met were Hirador, Fundor, Galzra, Briam, Ohen, Gretiem, Beroan, Roslarb, Shurikan, Vanilor, Eridor, Ingothol, Glaedr… of course, is your dragon male or female?"
Eragon blushed upon realizing that he didn't know. He felt a laugh through his connection with the dragon, and focused on mentally pestering the answer out of it. After a minute of mental struggle, Eragon finally got an answer.
"It's a girl." He said. The still unnamed female dragon let out another mental laugh at Eragon's expense.
"Ah." Faolin replied, "Then I suppose all of those names I gave you won't help. How about Jura?" Eragon felt dissatisfaction through his link and shook his head. "Miremel?" Again he shook his head. "Ophelia? Lenora?" Both denied. "Hmmm… Saphira?" At this, Eragon felt a mental tug, as if the word had aroused the hatchling's attention.
"Saphira." Eragon said, testing the name. The dragon responded positively, and gave a whoop, as if to distinctly say yes.
"Saphira it is then." Eragon said as the wagon reached the top of a larger hill, bringing the great white walls of Ilirea into view.
