Hey guys! This is my very first fanfic, it takes place 2,000 years after Inheritance, so if you haven't read the last book, I would suggest doing so before reading this. Constructive criticism is very welcome, I am not an experienced writer, so any help is useful to me. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: You wouldn't want me to own Eragon. Trust me.
Summary: 2000 years after Eragon slew Galbatorix, a young man named Jason has his life turned around when a white dragon named Aegon hatches for him. But life is never so simple; when the current king dies, there is a scramble for power as the people of Alagaësia turn on each other in attempt to rule. Political intrigue, violence, and sexual scandal ensue. M for Language, Violence and Sex.
Chapter 1: Sometime or Another
Jackson swung a tree branch hard against the trunk of an oak, the resulting clack scaring some birds from their nest.
"You see," he explained. "I had it perfectly under control. He was twice my size, but I was way faster. I would have finished him with a simple cross-cut, but the problem is–"
"The problem is" Jason interrupted. "You lost, and you are too prideful to admit it."
Jackson raised his weapon of oak and leaves above his head. "Hey, it could be worse, asshole. At least I don't attack like you!" He pathetically waved the branch around in a manner that in no way resembled sword fighting.
Jason scoffed. "I do not move like that."
When Jackson didn't stop his stick-parading, Jason snatched up a branch of his own.
"We'll see about that!" Jason knocked the wooden weapon from his friend's hand and tackled him. The two rolled around in the leaves for a while, grunting and kicking. When Jason finally pinned Jackson to the ground, his victim squirmed for a moment, but then suddenly stopped and cocked his head to the side.
"Jason, listen! Do you hear that?"
"Yeah, that's not happening. But nice try buddy. I'm not falling for that again." Jason painfully remembered the last time Jackson had distracted him in the midst of wrestling.
"No, but I'm serious this time. Listen!"
Jason ceased his vicious attacks for a moment and tilted his head. Well, there actually was something. It was a deep, rumbling sound, echoing from a distance. It was faint, but definitely noticeable.
"It's probably just a storm rolling in, Jackson."
Jackson shook his head. "I don't think so. C'mon!"
He pushed out from under his friend and ran off towards Carvahall, laughing as he went. Jason rolled his eyes, but smiled and ran after his best friend. He brushed right past a thorny bush, and silently cursed himself for not wearing a shirt with sleeves. As the trees whizzed past him, the strange sound grew stronger and louder. Perhaps it's not a storm. But then, what was it?
Jason and Jackson broke through the tree line, and into the fields in which nested massive city of Carvahall. The familiar sight of the far off lake, as well large mansions and busy streets came into view. Jason found it hard to believe that Carvahall was ever anything but a large, bustling town, although he had heard all of the tales describing it as a tiny village, long, long ago. It was a pleasant autumn day, with a warm breeze flowing through the vivacious valley. The trees had just begun to show their colors, dotting the land with vibrant yellows and burning oranges. The boys' feet crunched on the dead leaves as they sprinted towards the city walls. They ran through the city gates, not stopping, even though an old guard shouted at them to slow down.
The duo winded through the many streets of the city, following the increasing volume of the thrumming sound. They pushed past children, fruit stands, and anything else in their way until they came upon a small crowd gathered in the middle of the central square. The boys pushed and shoved their way to the front of the mob, trying to see what all the commotion was about.
"There! In the skies!" some man with a mustache shouted, pointing upward.
All eyes in the crowd turned toward the south, where three enormous, winged creatures thundered towards the city.
Dragons! The Riders are coming! Jason was practically bursting with excitement. Jackson reached over and touched his friends arm. He shouted to be heard over the rising buzz of the crowd, "Let's go find my mother and father before the dragons land! They'll want to know about this!"
Jason nodded, and the duo turned and sprinted away from the square and towards the edge of the city, where the enormous Iron Hold castle stood, looming over the town. As tall and proud as a king, Iron Hold Keep has been the Stronghammer's residence for generations. It stood boastfully on the top of the largest hill for miles, where Roran Stronghammer himself had built the castle. It was a huge structure, 81,000 square meters and 200 meters tall. It was often referred to as the 'Gem of the North,' and was only outsized by the King's Castle in the capitol. By the time they made it up the large hill, the boys were thoroughly winded. They panted up to the front of the massive keep, wheezing, where Jackson's father and mother, Thomas and Lorie Stronghammer, stood with their three other children and a few servants.
"Where have you been, young man?" Thomas scolded. A frown graced his worn face; his piercing grey eyes bearing down intently at Jackson "I told you to be here at midday."
"Oh," Jackson said, raising his eyebrows. "There was actually an important reason for that?"
Thomas sighed slowly. Jason sometimes wondered what it would be like to have Jackson as a son. It made him shudder coldly.
Thomas continued "Hurry up and make yourselves decent before the Riders arrive. I'll not have you looking like sweaty peasants for our honored guests."
The boys jogged inside the castle, speeding past servants to Jackson's bedroom, quickly stripping of their sweaty tunics and trousers and putting on more appealing garments. Jason observed where that thorn bush had scraped him earlier. Eh, nothing too deadly.
"Dragon Riders!" Jason panted. "Real Dragon Riders, *huff*, coming to Carvahall!" he breathed as he ran fingers through his sandy hair, attempting to neaten it. Jason was a tall, young man, seventeen years of age. Due to years of training with the sword, he was very fit for his age, having well-defined muscles on his arms and chest. He had light brown hair and almond eyes, which he supposedly got from his mother; who had passed away when Jason was small.
Jackson was only a bit taller than Jason, and just as fit (although he claimed to have the better body). He face was framed with unruly blonde hair (not the typical brown of the Stronghammer family) and blue eyes that he inherited from his mother. He was often told he was the spitting image of his grandfather.
"Well I'm just glad we have someone other than boring old lords and evil ladies visiting." Jackson murmured, while throwing a blue tunic over his bare chest, which he kept smooth for the girls.
"Does your father know that Riders are coming?" Jackson inquired.
"I don't know," Jason sighed. His father had been gone for a month now, doing business in Ilirea. "He'll be in the capitol for a while longer…"
"Don't worry about it" Jackson smiled at his friend, clicking on a red belt. "He'll find out sooner or later."
Jackson and Jason had been best friends literally since birth. Having been born 9 hours within each other, they had grown up doing everything together. Jason's father was Andrew Winister, the North's ambassador, and Jackson was the eldest of the Stronghammer children, the family that had been Lords of Palancar for nearly 2000 years.
After they deemed themselves decent, they made their way outside to join the rest of the Stronghammer family. Jackson's youngest siblings were twins, Bradley and Sarah, both eight years old with little brown heads. The Stronghammer's middle child was a young beauty named Sybil, fifteen years of age, with long auburn hair and fair skin, just like her mother. Jackson, being seventeen and the eldest, took his place between his mother and Sybil.
By now the dragons were about to land at the castle, the thundering of their wings was deafening; and the buffeting wind caused by their flapping made everyone's hair and clothes blow in different directions. The three dragons landed with a rumbling thump. One of the riders was an elf, on was a man, and one was a woman. As the Riders dismounted, all of the Stronghammer residence bowed deeply in respect for the ancient order.
Thomas spoke up, "Welcome, my lords, to Carvahall. I am Lord Thomas Stronghammer, Warden of Palancar Valley. I trust your flight went well?"
The tall, strange-looking elf with long, brown hair, clearly the highest-ranking of the three Riders, spoke. "Thank you, Lord Stronghammer. Indeed, we had a pleasant flight. We have come-"
Jason stopped listening to the pleasantries and turned his attention to the dragons. The largest of the three was a burning orange color, with emerald green eyes, and the smaller two were ocean blue and a deep red color. The orange dragon looked back at him with a sparkling, intelligent eye, which Jason stared into for a while before turning away, unable to maintain eye-contact with the dragon. He then took notice of the Riders themselves. The elf who was speaking, who was bound to the orange dragon, seemed to be the eldest of the group, and Jason had no doubt he was the most powerful. The man with the sea blue dragon was a scary-looking man with a scar covering the left side of his face. It looked like it was from...an axe? Yikes. Jason shuddered. Lastly he observed the woman. She was a pretty woman, with dark hair and brown eyes that looked very kind and motherly. All of the Riders looked very fit for battle with their masterfully crafted armor and weapons; and Jason decided he'd rather not tangle with this lot.
The voice of Thomas Stronghammer filled his ears again "-we hope you will find Iron Hold Castle most comfortable. Whitmore!" he snapped and a short, bald little man snapped to attention. "Would you please show the Riders and their dragons to the dragon loft?"
The servant bowed and led the Riders away. The Stronghammers followed suit, save for Jackson. The teen turned to Jason with an excited look on his face. After a quick glance at the sun, he grunted.
"You'd better run home and get ready for the ceremony tomorrow."
Jason blinked at him a confused look. "What ceremony?"
Jackson gave him a look that said 'are-you-fucking-kidding me?'
"Were you even listening to a thing the Rider said? They're having a ceremony tomorrow to find a new Rider! Really, Jason, you should pay more attention to these things," he smirked.
Jason gave a surprised look.
"Oh, yeah…I was totally listening!"
Jackson narrowed his eyes.
"Shut up." said Jason "It's not like you listen to everything you're told." Jackson couldn't argue.
Wow...a new Rider could be here in Carvahall! He thought, astonished. He bid his friend farewell and made his way back to town.
Alalëa: Across the Western Sea
Kateryn stared at the ceiling, admiring the cracks in the plain, white surface. Really, anything could be found interesting in this situation.
"Kateryn?" her instructor called. "Did you hear me?"
Kateryn slipped out of her daydreaming. "...Is it the Anora River?"
"No." her instructor said flatly, curling her hair with her index finger.
Kateryn let put an exasperated groan, putting her head on the table. She had been at this for hours now, and she was quite fed up. Noticing her frustration, her instructor set down the map she was holding and said, "Alright. That's enough for one lesson. Go on and get some rest."
Kateryn bowed her head got up from her chair and exited the room with haste. She hated her lessons, and would much rather be walking outside in the palace gardens. She briskly walked through the white halls of the castle where she lived. She had spent her entire life in these walls, and she knew every room and corridor. She had years of memories hidden around the palace.
She smiled softly, remembering the all pleasant times she had often hid from her brother in some obscure room. Her smile faded as she remembered hiding from her brother in not-so-pleasant situations. She took a shortcut down some stairs and out an unused door that led to the gardens.
Why do I have to study a place that I have never seen? She thought to herself. She didn't want to go to Alagaësia, she never had. Why would she want to go somewhere else when she was completely happy right she was? She sighed, taking a seat on a marble bench, observing the beautiful gardens of Tarith. Tarith was the grandest city in all of Alalëa, known for its riches in gold, silk, and spices. In the greatest city on earth, all she had ever needed had been given to her.
Unfortunately, many have told Kateryn it had to be her that regained the Empire (Or Broddring Kingdom…whatever they called it these days). She was the last true Galbatorian since the family had fled to Tarith to escape the rebels, Eragon and the Varden. Kateryn shook her head. Galbatorian. That wasn't even their real last name. Not that she actually knew what her last name was. She knew that Galbatorix originated from Inzilbêth, but that was the extent of her knowledge. Galbatorix hardly even spoke to his children, leaving them only with the promise of one day regaining Alagaësia.
Family…bah! Kateryn despised the word. The only family she had known was her brother, and he had become a twisted, mad sociopath. Kateryn was almost glad he was dead, because she didn't have to marry him. Yes, marry. For two thousand years, her family wed brother and sister to keep the blood "pure." Plotting…growing stronger…waiting for an opportunity for a true Galbatorian to sit on the throne once again. Now that her brother was dead, she was the last true Galbatorian, so the duty lies on Kateryn's shoulders, to take back Alagaësia by storm, sometime or another. Her whole life, Kateryn had been handed anything she had ever desired, but this… she had no say in this.
She shook her head again. She was not that person.
She sat and daydreamed in the garden for a while, until the sky began to darken. She arose from the bench and made her way back inside the white castle. When she arrived in her chambers, a bath was already drawn and hot. She shed her light dress and let it fall on the floor. Before she entered the bath, she observed herself in a full mirror on the wall. She had the same pitch black eyes of Galbatorix himself. She also had jet-black hair that made it just past her breasts. Her skin was light and without flaw; beyond compare to any other woman in Tarith. It wasn't natural, of course. It was known that every single Galbatorian had to be perfect.
Perfect.
And for Kateryn, the meant being magically altered her entire childhood. Everything from her complexion to her breasts; every curve of her body was unblemished. She was often told she was beautiful by men and women alike, who always made her laugh, because she thought of herself as an inbred freak.
Kateryn turned from the mirror and stepped into the steaming bath. She forced herself to relax and closed her eyes, trying not to think about anything. But of course, her mind wandered from dragons to demons to siege weapons.
Jason stared at the ceiling in his bedroom, trying to get some sleep after the excitement of the day. He figures not even some "Jason time" could cure him of his restlessness. He replays the events over and over, everything from wrestling with Jackson to feeling the wind from the dragon's wings. But, despite everything, his mind always wandered back to one thing; the orange dragon. The way the giant looked at Jason, as if he knew something about him that Jason didn't know about himself. He shivered, and pulled his furs over him. After another hour of tossing and turning, he slowly fell into the abyss of his dreams; the glittering green eye burning in the back of his mind.
The next day, all of the Carvahall children, ages seven through eighteen, were lined up in the town's largest square, youngest to oldest. The Stronghammer children went last, as not to show favoritism to a noble family. Not that anyone would mind if they went first. The Stronghammers were just rulers, beloved by all of Palancar. Every child was dressed their best for the occasion, their mothers fussing over every little detail of their clothing. Carvahall had done its best to flaunt its extensive riches for the ceremony; and being the richest city in the North allows one to make quite a ceremony. After all, how often did you have the chance to become a Rider? A long table was set in the center of the square, displaying three dragon eggs; one a sharp green with white, webby veins flowing across it, another was a deep red, with orange veins circling in swirls. The last egg was the smallest, a pale white egg, with grey veins in a disarrayed form, reaching all over it like thin fingers. Jason stared at them all in wonder. They were beautiful, yes, also fierce-looking. Just like the beasts that slept inside of them. The three riders that had come were standing behind the table, looking awfully better than yesterday now that they were rested and freshened up. Their dragons loomed overhead, circling the city, looking down on it's inhabitants.
Jason leaned over to Jackson, "How were the Riders? Did you get to see their dragons up close?"
The blonde nodded. "They let me; Bradley, Sarah and Sybil meet them. You know, I actually never realized how big Iron Hold castle really is."
Jason raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean? You live there, smartass."
His best friend rolled his eyes at that. "Well, yeah, but I mean there are entire rooms made specifically for dragons. The one we opened was enormous! I've never been in it before. Gods, it's massive! I bet Eragon Shadeslayer could fit ten copies of his own dragon in there."
Jason shrugged. He wasn't so sure about that, he had heard plenty crazy stories about the Sapphire Dragon's size.
Jackson spoke again, "Also I overheard a conversation between my parents and the Riders. It seemed pretty serious. Something about the King-"
He was cut off by the voice of the lead Rider, the elf.
"People of Carvahall! You are gathered here today to bear witness to the Ceremony of the Dragon Eggs! This is a moment of great hon-"
Jason tuned out and looked at the Rider's dragons, in the sky. The orange dragon kept regaining his attention. Jason couldn't get it out of his mind that the dragon was watching him.
He was snapped back to attention as the line began to move. One by one the children passed over the eggs, running their hands over the smooth surfaces, observing the intricate details on the shells. The children were visibly excited. Who would be? Just the thought: What if it's me? Is enough to excite anyone. It felt like only a second before Jason arrived at the table. He took a deep breath, and went over to the first egg, the green one. He reached out a hand to it, then hesitated. Breathing again, he reached out and touched it. It felt very cold, despite having dozens of hands already run over it. He wasn't sure exactly what he was supposed to feel…but he knew was that he wasn't feeling it. He moved on to the red egg, staring into the seemingly endless swirls. Once again,…nothing. He looked up and saw the orange dragon looking at him with its green eyes again. He promptly looked away.
Then there was the pale white one.
He got a good look at it up close, all of its tiny little veins webbing the entire shell. It had an almost unnatural look to it, a cold, alien feeling, like it was as ancient as the world itself.
He slowly extended his hand toward it, and touched its surface. He saw his own reflection looking back at him from the egg. Unlike the other eggs this one felt warm, almost hot, but other than that, he felt…
…nothing.
Jason pulled his hand off and was about to turn and leave when there was a quiet crack sound. Jason froze and turned back towards the egg. It wobbled slightly, as if someone had poked it.
Crack!
A thin crack appeared on the surface of the shell, the egg now wobbling furiously, back and forward. The noises got louder and the cracks bigger, until out of the shell, burst a white baby dragon.