Jessie sat at her writing desk, finishing off a letter to her grandmother: Leeandra, the legendary elf swordswoman who had killed two of the Forsworn.
Jessie's mother and grandmother had raised her since her father and grandfather, whom were both human, had died in the service to the evil usurper, Galbatorix. Her letters to her grandmother always included some of the ancient language so that she could stay in written practice. She was fluent in the ancient language and the common language spoke widely throughout Alagaesia. She knew a bit of dwarfish but not much.
"Dear Grandmother Leeandra svit-kona:" The letter began.
"I miss you so much. I wish you would return to us. Mother and I are so lonely. We have been working on the spell you created as of late, trying to perfect it. At last we have succeeded! You must come so that we can prove to Queen Islanzadi that we must use it. I have been-"
Jessie looked up sharply when the door burst open. She gasped at what she saw. Her mother, covered in blood, an arrow sprouting from her shoulder, another from her chest.
"Mother!" She cried in alarm.
"Jessie! You must go!" Her mother said, blood beginning to trickle from her mouth, slurring the words slightly. She lay down on the bed. Jessie knelt next to her, hot tears beginning to fall.
Jessie took her mother's hand. "Not without you!"
"You must." Her mother whispered. "Go...run, Jessie...they are coming." The final words came out in a rush of breath and the hand Jessie held went limp. Her tears fell freely now. She knew what her mother meant. The soldiers were coming. Her mother had given her life so that she would be able to get away. So that she would not die in service of a cruel master as her father and grandfather had.
She grabbed her rucksack from the corner and packed her belongings. She collected her sword, dagger and bow along with a cloak for the cold merciless nights. At last she was set. She could hear the soldiers beating on the door and knew they would soon break in. She squeezed her mother's limp hand one last time, feeling horrible for leaving her body to the soldiers, but it had to be done. Then, blinking away her tears, she snuck stealthily out the window.
She ran quickly and silently through the forest, having the advantage of her Elven blood. Being a hybrid had its advantages. She stopped abruptly. A flash of light, a crack in the air, a thud. Jessie blinked her eyes to clear her vision. Before her lay a path of charred earth. She took a hesitant step forward, half charred leaves crackling beneath her soft boots.
In the center of the circle lay a large, deep purple stone. Jessie gaped at the object she recognized it from her childhood lessons. A large, smooth purple stone lay in the clearing of charred earth. A dragon egg, one of the last. Between the teachings of mother and grandmother, she knew all about the prosper and dark fall of the legendary Dragon Riders, the Shur'tugalar. Recovering her senses, her eyes scanned the area for company. She was alone.
She stepped forward and placed her hands on the smooth egg. It was still warm to the touch and tingled slightly under her fingers. She picked it up, surprised at the weight, and tucked it gently into her pack. Her journey continued. She decided to head towards the elven army, which was currently in Fienster. Her grandmother was sure to be there. She would know what to do. Leeandra always knew what to do.