The bar was warm, lighted well, and yet a disturbing messy feeling. An old man named Brom was sitting at a table, his eyes gazing hawklike at innocent victims at the wrong place at the wrong time, and his gruff voice finally making it out of his lips.
"You know I always talked about elves, dwarves, and riders, but today is different. I will talk to you today about the half human people. Half-elf, half-rider, and half-dwarf.
"As you should know, riders are chosen by their riders so if there is a baby between a rider and a human, the child will be human though many times the child has longer ears than a baby between a human and a human. A baby between a dwarf and a human will either be housed with the dwarves in shame or by humans. The baby is always going to be short and stocky with large bones. If there is a baby between an elf and a human, which is very abnormal," Brom looked around the room and eyed everybody, Eragon the last, "the baby would be housed with the human's parents. The baby would be completely normal until the later teens when they would develop slanted eyes, longer ears, better reaction time, and better running speed. When this developed," he paused, "they would have to live in elf society or live trying-"
It was entertaining, Eragon was yawning. He opened the door and closed it behind him leading him on a path to home.
"Hey Eragon," Roran said, "did you get a deer?"Roran was two years older than Eragon, who was fifteen. Roran was Eragon's best friend, though he never admitted it, and was happily in love with a girl named Katrina. He never liked Roran spending time with her, and he never liked her. She was too bratty and spoiled, but then again, he wanted him to be happy.
"No, I didn't find any," he looked away shamefaced.
"That's too bad. This year isn't doing to well, but try telling that to Garrow." Roran smiled and Eragon followed in suit.
Garrow was Roran's father and Eragon's uncle. He was old with black greying hair and not the best eyesight. Garrow was smart but his job of farming did not reflect upon that.
Eragon looked outside the window and saw large pellets of snow fall from the sky. Great, more snow. He looked around and saw some soup was in the pot, and ate. Eragon was hungrier than usual and when satisfied went to bed. Garrow wouldn't be back until tomorrow, but the snow didn't worry him at all. He never did though there were some accidents when a person would go out into the snow and never return, but Garrow wasn't like that. He was tough.
He was tired, so he quickly went to sleep. It wasn't good and by the time it was finished, Eragon had blue/grey bags around his eyes and an irritable attitude. He also noticed he may have grown a little because his hand-eye coordination that was usually unmatched by his family suddenly deteriorated and he also began to feel a little dizzy. Eragon was also hungry.
"Hey," Roran said slowly and quiet so that Eragon had to strain his ears. He grunted in return, too tired to even talk. The snow did not stop and left it's mark by leaving a thick layer of snow.
"Do you think that Garrow would be late?" Eragon finally asked when he finally had the urge to ask.
"I think so," said Roran and Eragon nodded in agreement. That would make sense.
After doing chores outside in the cold left Eragon feeling worse. His hands, feet, and face were numb and his ears and nose were red. He may have felt worse but his spirits lifted somehow. Doing work helped it when he was tired or something like that.
When he was done, he went to the house and warmed himself next to the stove, his hands and feet had the strange feeling of prickling sensation. It felt quite good and felt tired and hungry. Roran was still working so he cleaned the place up in the three-room house and was quickly finished. Some said that it was a woman's job to clean the house, but when you were in a family of all boys it was the youngest who cleaned, thus lowering his self-confidence.
After a few minutes of cleaning, Roran came in with a red face, and, like Eragon, sat next to the stove.
Then, they both got bowls out and ate without much conversation.
"Hey," Eragon said softly.
"Hey," Roran said a little more softly.
"I'm going out," Eragon then declared, got out his bow, coat, hat and left. Eragon, unlike Roran, never liked gloves. He then walked out into a part of the woods called the Spine where most deer were since most of the villagers had superstitions about the place calling it "evil" or "haunted" or something like that because many people died or got lost and never returned in the Spine. Eragon, though, never believed it because he went in their all the time and nothing ever happened to him, though he liked it because that meant more deer for himself, though, but now, even those were mysteriously vanishing with increased speed. Last year, there were tons of them, but this year there weren't. It wasn't because of Eragon, though. It just was and is. He swore under his breath. After some time, he gave up. Besides, when it snows, it is probably not the best idea to go out, especially in the Spine.
Eragon walked home.
"No luck?" Roran asked, but he already knew the answer,"I told you it is the Spine. Everybody who goes there gets bad luck." Roran smiled, knowing that his cousin would go there nevertheless.
He never believed in bad luck. No one in the family ever did, at least since Eragon went there when he was five and found an extreme liking to the place, but they never went into the Spine. Some people were afraid that he went into the Spine and few people were even afraid of him himself. Eragon joked about all the bad luck he had against him would suddenly go off. People never laughed about except for Roran. Garrow didn't even manage a chuckle when he said it to him.
Eragon went to bed. He did not know what time it was but he was very tired and hoped for a good night's sleep. Eragon's room wasn't really all his. It was a small room but he shared it with Roran, which usually was a real pain because he snored loudly sometimes so it helped when he went to bed early. Then when he covered himself with a blanket, he finally noticed that his ears were hurting a little. It could have been like that all day because he was out on the cold, but it didn't worry him that much. One time he had an earache but it didn't last long. Maybe this was it again. He slept and dreamed another dreamless night.
He woke up, still groggy, from his sleep. It was better than yesterday he thought until he noticed he had a soar back that hurt every time he twisted it. Great. His ears still hurt and his hand-eye coordination still hadn't come back to him. Well, even when those things happened, he did feel more cheerful than yesterday. Roran was on his bed still with his arm off the bed and his mouth wide open. He had good sense to give him a punch in the stomach, but he didn't have the energy.
Sorry, Roran, thought Eragon, you will have to wait for another day.
Eragon made breakfast, again ruining his reputation and respect for doing a woman's job, but his cousin knew long before not to make fun of him after one day Roran made fun of him. Roran may have been strong, but Eragon had dexterity so by the time their fighting was finished, Roran had a bloody nose while he was unscathed. It was something Roran did not want to remember. He smiled.
The snow stopped and yet there was still snow on the ground, not wanting to disappear. This day, unlike yesterday, the snow was dirty instead of pure white. That was another thing that he did not like about the snow. Dirt.
Garrow should be back that day so Eragon did his chores with more care than yesterday. His back still hurt, but no matter what happened, work never got him into a bad mood. It was warmer that day as well, not by much, but still warmer. He took more time with chores and he didn't try to hunt that day.
The day went on quickly.
When they were both done, they heard the door open so they came to greet Garrow, but then the door closed. Eragon and Roran wondered why he didn't come in and out of curiosity, Eragon went outside while Roran stayed where the heat was.
He checked in the barns, in and around, and everywhere else. The wind was growing heavier so he decided that it could have been the wind. Eragon went to the house, but then spotted black. He looked again to make sure what it was. Then he saw a person in a back cloak, but something was wrong. Definitely wrong. The person was not a person, but something so grotesque. It had grey skin, slits where the eyes were supposed to be, and the strangest thing of them all. It had a beak. The thing breathed on him with it's nauseating breath. Eragon, was scared and probably scarred for life. He ran to the house as fast as he could and slammed the door.
Eragon ran really fast. He always could outmatch anybody, but this run was the fastest he had ever done, though he knew that he could have ran faster without the snow.
He heaved gasps of air into his lungs. Roran looked at him quizzically, a curious look in his eyes.
"What's wrong?" Roran asked, " Is Garrow angry?"
Eragon shaked his head, unable to speak for the moment.
"There's this thing outside!" Eragon exclaimed, "It was black, and it had a beak."
"Look, Eragon," Roran sighed, "I know you always make up tall tales, but this one is the most ridiculous one yet."
"Look outside if you don't believe me!" Eragon hated it when they said he was lying. They always thought he did. When he was five, he saw a woman with very long ears, when he was nine he saw a really short man, and when he was thirteen he saw plants growing at an abnormal and surreal rate, but they were all in the Spine. Never at his house.
Roran opened the door, looked out, and closed the door.
"Look, Eragon," he said haughtily, "I'm tired of you lying to me about these things. Besides, your soon going to be an adult."
He had eleven months and two weeks left until Eragon was considered a man. His fifteenth birthday was two weeks ago. They were considered men when they turned the age of sixteen, though Eragon was immature for his age. He looked thirteen instead of fifteen, so he was an easy target for mean people, or he would have been if not for his great fighting skills which gave him respect.
Eragon knew that no matter how many times he argued with Roran, he would not change his mind. He was good like that. Winning an arguement had something that fighting could only sometimes do. That was changing minds. Roran was a leader but Eragon was more of a soldier, though, a very good soldier. Eragon decided not to fight Roran.
After a long time of waiting for Garrow, they decided to drop it and go to bed.
Sleep still was bad. His ears were hurting like crazy now and so was his back. He moved to try to get in a better position without success. His legs were burning. Eragon shrugged it off as being sore because he did run really fast. Not for long, but fast. His eyes were also hurting, but not much and he got a horrible headache. When he finally went to bed, he was disturbed by the footsteps of a person.
Cursing to himself, Eragon got up to see Garrow. He looked around the house until he heard knocking on the door. Garrow never knocked on the door. Eragon went to the door astonished to find Horst looking almost as tired as him and red in the face. His blonde hair was a mess.
"Eragon, get yourself to my place. Garrow is in trouble. Take Roran," Horst said it so fast that he actually wondered how he heard any of it, but that was the least in his mind. He ran to his bedroom and tried to wake up Roran. Roran was a heavy sleeper. He yelled until it hurt his own ears, the jumped on the bed, and finally socked him in the face. That woke him.
He swore loudly.
"What in blazes are you doing!" Roran yelled in annoyance.
"Garrow is in trouble, you lazy lout. Now go with me and Horst!"
This got him going.
Together they ran to his house where Garrow was. Well, not together. Eragon was outrunning them by so much. They looked almost as if in slow motion. He ran to the house, opened the door and then closed the door. He saw Gertrude.
She was in her nightgown, having her back to Eragon.
"How is he?" Eragon asked.
Unfortunately, it scared her for a second so she jumped and looked around the room.
"Eragon how are you he-. Never mind. Garrow is in trouble. He was burnt in all so many places! It was so horrible. Oh dear, we saw him on road-" she cried, "he is upstairs, but he is not to be disturbed. You can sleep here tonight," and she pointed upstairs, "It's to the left, honey."
He walked up the stairs, slowly.
I hope that he is going to be alright. I wonder what happened. Who would do something like that? Why? Is it serious? Numerous questions were racing in his head, but no answers, until he thought, Could that thing I saw yesterday be the same thing that hurt him?
Then it suddenly hit him. Why aren't Roran and Horst here by now?
Eragon ran out the house but then saw them running torwards were very slow but he could see that they were huffing and puffing. It took them some minutes before they reached him. Curiosity were in both of their eyes.
They, like him, ran inside the house so Eragon went with them.
"Is he alright?" asked Roran.
"I'm not sure," Gertrude answered. Eragon could now see that she was crying.
"Can I see him?" Roran then again asked, but Eragon knew they answer bfore she shook her head.
"You guys must be hungry. There is some bread and soup in the kitchen. I'll get Eragon. He's upstairs." Of coure, this seemed absurd to Eragon because he was at the entrance so he said, "I'm right here."
They all looked again in shock. They must have not seen him when they went inside.
"Okay," she said slowly like she was trying to solve a riddle, "you can eat. It's in the kitchen."
It was a good thing there was food, though she didn't need to say it twice. Eragon and Roran ate. Roran barely ate anything while Eragon was starving and eating a lot since he was now growing as fast as he thought those plants were growing, and he thought that Roran noticed both of these things.
They retired for the night, but both of them, even with Eragon's lack of good sleep for the past few days, were tired. They gave each other nervous glances throughout the night. They then decided to turn off the lights and sleep, but none of them could, but they kept the light off. Finally, Roran went to bed, but Eragon was still up. His ears were hurting even more, and his back, and his eyes, and his head were following. How could he sleep? Eragon could hear Roran's snore even louder than usual. Actually, it pretty much dominated the whole room but it did not seem to disturb him or anybody else in the whole place.
He closed his pained eyes trying, but of course, failing to sleep. Then, at about two A.M., sleep over took him and he drifted off into his worst night sleep.