Shur'tugal-Kona An Inheritance fan fiction
I laid my book down on the floor, wondering what the next volume would bring as I drifted into a nice, fantasy-induced sleep.
The immense inner chamber had high, white arches that bi-sected at the top of it's domed ceiling where a glass flameless lantern hung menacingly, it's many upside down teardrops casting a wicked purple glow. The sounds of the epic battle below echoed across the cavernous space, causing the light fixture to shiver, on the verge of crashing onto the raised dais floor beneath it.
The blonde warrior fought with intensity and purpose, his fingers dripping with sweat and blood from gripping his wooden hilt too tightly for too long. The blue blade flashed against the dark grey one. Each clang a heartbeat or a hair's breadth from scathing one or the other, but never any closer than that. There was a disturbance overhead. The entire roof quaked and convulsed and the purple glass came speeding to the floor with a sound like a thousand wine glasses shattering into a million pieces each. Our hero took the opportunity to slash his opponent from left hair line to right jaw, half blinding him. His hand flew to his face as a cry escaped him. Then he vanished.
The oval-shaped Kelly green stone in the center of the dais remained unscathed somehow. Joyful feelings blazed out from the multitude of crystals round about him. He had saved them. Not all of them he thought, for he could feel the despair from the others.
But some, came the familiar voice in his head. And that is important.
He let loose a flashy grin in response to his unseen companion. You're right. We did it. He stepped reverently over to the great emerald stone, slicing easily through the wards around it. He lifted it from its dusty pillow, feeling the one thing that they most needed right now, emanating from its depths: hope.
The buzzer on my alarm sounded out for the third time in as many minutes. I smacked the button on it and batted away dreams of men in tights riding on fantastic beasts to come to my rescue. I got out of bed and staggered up the stairs to let the dogs out. Following that I climbed groggily up six more steps to the kitchen. Poured some mini-frosted wheat square things, dumped some milk on it, not bothering to wipe the counter afterwards, sat down and crunched my breakfast while going through a mental list of today's tasks.
What was today? Wednesday. Shower, school, work, sleep. Maybe a nap between the middle two if I was lucky.
I sighed.
Monotony ran rampant through my life pattern. Which you wouldn't have thought if you knew me. I worked two part-time jobs, went to school full-time, and had a crazy sport I was a part of called Belegarth. I could sew, and I liked designing costumes, and I was training to be a web designer. I was all over the place all the time. So why was I not looking forward to the day?
Because he wouldn't be there.
I had just broken up with that guy. You know, the one who was beautifully sweet, tall, dark, brooding, and handsome. Who would've been perfect except for that tiny thing about him not being mature enough to commit entirely. The guy you loved who loved you back, but it wasn't enough or the timing was bad, or the army's stupid training messed him up. Yeah. That guy.
We'd been engaged and now we were supposed to be friends. That was okay, I guess, but the ache that popped up at inconvenient times didn't seem to get any less-
Crap! I thought. I'm gonna be late if I don't hit the gas now! I gulped down the rest of my cereal, rinsed the bowl, and jumped in the shower. 20 minutes later I was dry, dressed and trying to make my hair behave. I gave up, put my shoes on, shrugged on my fall jacket, and dashed out the door. Then back in to open the back door for the dogs.
I was only 3 minutes late for class, which was good, since it meant I would still be marked present, and I got right to work. Since I attended the OWATC-a technical college- it meant I could come a little early or late, do my work at my own pace, take breaks from the computer, and even dink around if my focus was poor that day. Today I did three chapters in Dreamweaver and then facebooked the rest of the time.
At lunch I watched my friends laugh, flirt, and listened to everyone's oddball stories. Then I went home, changed, cleaned my room, and took a nap before getting ready for work.
Tonight was the haunted house gig. I put on my black dress, my red corset I had made with the skulls and roses on it and did my hair in a high, curly, half ponytail. I curled the rest of my remaining hair in tight, little ringlets. I was a good enough actress that I could pick wherever I wanted to work. Tonight, I wanted the house. I popped in my fangs, snagged my old fashion necklace, and headed out the door, stopping only to kiss my folks. My little brother followed. This was his first year getting paid.
I let the professional make-up artist do me up gorgeous, then headed downstairs to the ticket line with my dolly, ready to creep out any unsuspecting little girl, or overly agitated macho guy. I sang creepy nursery rhymes, sniffed people and grinned, and asked random customers if they'd like to be my new dolly, because this one was old and couldn't scream. When the people had gone, and the skeleton's torch ceased blazing over the caves, I went upstairs again. I handed my raffle tickets to Frank-man, took a pic of my make-up, and waited for Kel.
We went home, washed our faces, brushed our teeth, and headed to our respective bedrooms, pausing to say good night to our mom on the way. I curled up under the covers, dogs beside me, as I drifted back into the world the novel I had recently read painted before me.
The blonde-haired, blue-eyed warrior looked up at his iridescent azure companion.
We matched them today, he thought.
We certainly did, she replied, stretching her sore muscles then curling up beside him near the fire. Aren had eased and replenished them, and they had both eaten well. The many glittering fires about them crackled and cast strange orange shadows.
"Well done, Cousin!" called a bearded man nearby. He carried a hammer on his belt and woman, thick with child, rested on his shoulder.
"Get back to your tent, both of you! I don't want that baby to suffer because you caught a cold or some other idiotic thing!"
The bearded man chuckled and scooped up his lovely wife, who shot a glaring backward look as she was ferried back to the warmth of her temporary home.
"Tonight is for celebration" came a voice to their left. A dark-haired beauty with a commanding air stood beside them. She bore several long, thick scars on her fore-arms with pride, and half of her hair was tied high up on her head. She wore thick gold hoops from her ears, but aside from that, her attire was simple. "However," she continued, I don't want any recklessness, or loss of vigilance tonight. The evil king may still think to strike us just when we are celebrating and vulnerable."
"Unless he brings the great, black beast with him, Milady, he is but a small threat. His armies we have slaughtered. We are too great a force." The smallish man beside her scratched the back of his head as he spoke.
Fear not, Nightstalker. They will not attack us tonight, the blue fire assured. The raven-haired woman seemed only partially comforted. However, she nodded and took her leave.
They sat a moment in silence as the watched the fighters recount the day's battles, people dancing, sad women comforting each other with the knowledge that it could be almost over.
Then the blonde turned. Pulling the green gem from his pack, he asked his companion; what will we do with this? They both pondered a moment as we looked at it. We cannot wait to find where it belongs, as it was with you.
No, you are right. We will have to think of a way to find the next-I have an idea. A booming voice sounded in their heads. It came from out of one of the packs beside them. He pulled out a similar stone as the green on, but golden, with facets and a light glowing deep within it. Let us devise a spell, he continued. One that will take us to the one it belongs to. That way, no one must wait.
They all agreed and cloaked themselves with night shadow. They talked for a long time, silently; discussing what words should be used to protect them. Finally, it was decided. Our hero lifted the stone and stood. He began speaking in a strange ancient tongue, in a deep resonance with the earth, the universe, and the green gem in his hands. The incantation was long, and he felt his strength quiver, but he could not stop. Not until the spell was complete.
It ended. Light disappeared, then flashed before them. They soared without moving through time, it felt, and through space. The entered a strange ethereal cloud and came out the other side.
Suddenly, they stopped.
What did we do? Asked the female wearily, before falling unconscious. Our warrior, also sapped of all strength, registered he was in side a dwelling on his back, the green gem by his side, and then promptly followed his companion into the warm, welcoming black.
My phone was going off. I reached underneath my pillow and pulled it out. I read the name on the text and moaned wearily. Gabe. This is what my ex had to say: Good morning, jacey. How are you?
I sighed while texting back; I don't know yet. Ask me when I'm done sleeping. I sent it and stuffed my hand back under my pillow. I thought sad and angry thoughts to him in California and then rolled over.
I froze. He was in California right?
My hand was resting on a hard, warm, breathing something. A not-furry, warm breathing something. I went through all the different possibilities in my head. Someone drugged me and kidnapped me. No, because I had my phone. I was drunk last night? No I was at the hollow. I could feel leftover make-up on my face. Gabe was in my bed. That sounded fairly likely since there was no one under the covers besides me. And it felt like his chest… I opened one eye.
Uh oh. I saw blonde hair. Gabe was dark-haired. I slowly began pulling away, but his blues eyes flashed open and his hand was suddenly around my wrist. I then did what any normal, sane 21-year-old girl would do in this particular situation.
I screamed.
Loudly and at the top of my lungs. I began beating at him with my free hand and kicking with both feet like a little kid throwing a temper tantrum. He made many attempts to keep me quiet, but I refused to shut up.
Just then my burst into the room, her eyes moving from worry to rage in 2.3 seconds flat.
"Get the Hell away from my daughter!" she yelled, balling her fists. She began to drum on him with all her strength, which I knew would hurt her torn rotor cuff later. She had him backed into the corner by my laundry basket, trying to speak to her while she tried to beat him to death, when a roar sounded from outside the window.
Distracted, Mom turned, and then the guy shouted something like "Let-uh" and we both froze. Like, almost literally.
I couldn't move my arms, or my legs, nor could she. Then we heard a loud woman's voice ring through our heads. Let him speak, foolish human females!
Relief spread across the guy's face as the voice sounded.
"My name is Eragon," he said. "And I am the last free dragonrider."