Chapter 1: The Egg
Jessie knew she was in danger as she heard the soldiers approaching the door. She squeezed her dead mother's had one last time and grabbed her pack, sword, and bow. She snuck, quickly and silently, out the window and into the forest. She hated to leave her mother's body to the soldiers but she had no choice. After all, they were coming to recruit her into the army. If only she hadn't been such an adept swordswoman they wouldn't have even heard of her. She was faster and stronger than any human. That was because she was part elf. Her grandmother was the legendary elf swordswoman Leeandra. She had killed two of the Forsworn. The only person who had killed more was Brom, the founder of the resistance force called the Varden.
Suddenly a loud noise filled the air. Then there was a flash of light. Jessie blinked and squinted. There, in the middle of a black scorch mark, was a dark purple stone. Jessie stepped forward cautiously. Within moments she realized it was not a stone but an egg.
"A dragon egg." She whispered in awe. Her mother and grandmother had taught her everything there was to know about dragons and Dragon Riders.
Suddenly the egg began to crack. Jessie looked around to see if anyone had come near. She was alone. The egg was hatching for her. But that wasn't possible; there had never been a female Dragon Rider. But nonetheless, this egg was hatching for her. She watched in awe as the baby dragon burst from the egg. It was a male, deep purple dragon. He looked up at her with large purple eyes and burped out a small cloud of smoke. Jessie smiled.
Then a voice in her mind spoke, Hello, Jessie Elf-Child, I am Fyst, you are my Rider. Jessie knew what the mind voice meant. This was her dragon. She was a Rider. She reached out to Fyst and he rubbed his head against her hand. There was a white light and her hand began to tingle. She looked at it and saw a white gredwëy ignësia, shining on her palm. She starred at it in awe. She was a Dragon Rider. In front of her was one of the four remaining dragons. The last dragon egg had just hatched. For her. She had to find her grandmother.
She scooped up Fyst and began to run. She wanted to be a fair distance by nightfall. Her mother had told her that the Elven army was at Fienster. She would go there. But it was a two week journey, at the fastest, but with a baby dragon, it may take three. She would ward her camp at night, with the spells her mother and grandmother had taught her. She was fluent in the ancient language and that of the dwarves. She looked down as she heard a strange noise. It was Fyst, the baby dragon was sound asleep and snoring. She smiled and pushed herself to run faster.