A/N : Hi Guys! I'm a new author who's been reading for a good long while. Here's something I came up with in Paris.
Hey, it worked for Hemmingway and the lost Generation.
Once upon a very ordinary time, there was a fairly ordinary guy named Luke. His last name I have forgotten (or maybe I just don't know...) and he was walking down a street when things started exploding. Now, from his experience reading books and sparring in Kung Fu class, he figured out very fast that a good place to be was somewhere else. So he ran away very quickly. Into a wall. An invisible one, to be fair, but it still hurt. He almost didn't notice that the explosions had stopped. He didn't notice that the scene had changed a bit. Then he opened his eyes and noticed.
"Holy shit!" Now Luke didn't usually swear, but sometimes, especially when alone, he couldn't help it. And I don't blame him; he was looking at a strange, futuristic city. His brain, surprisingly functional, worked out quite promptly that he'd run into the city's defenses. He was just beginning to wonder how to get in and ask how to get home, when the scene changed again. This time he instantly recognized the location. Christopher Paolini described it very well, and all the elvish traits of the surrounding people...or elves, rather, helped. He was in Ellesméra. And he wasn't quite sure it was a good thing that the elves had noticed him, too. They looked at him curiously, although not with too much alarm. A rational part of him remembered they were used to magic, and realized they probably thought he had arrived by magic. And for all he knew, he had.
...
Vanir was having an interesting day, to say the least. First Eragon was acting strangely, and then broke his arm with incredible swordsmanship. He was bolstered by the fact that there was now hope for the elves, and all who resisted Galbatorix, and wondered whether Saphira had perhaps chosen Eragon for a different kind of strength than Vanir had originally been judging by. Perhaps he had been too impulsive...?
He was roused from his broodings when a strange boy, dressed in the strangest clothing, appeared in the middle of a clearing. All he could do was stare. The elves around him were obviously just as confused. There was no indication of his arrival; he was just suddenly...there. Could even magic do that? Obviously it could, it just had, but how? They were in the middle of Ellesméra, in the middle of Du Weldenvarden! Shouldn't Gilderien the Wise or the enchantments around the whole forest have prevented anyone from breaching the city's defenses? What was going on?
For his part, the human kid looked almost as bewildered as they did. He was staring at them in disbelief, even fear. That wasn't too unusual; humans generally didn't know much about elves. And if he was from the Empire, who knew what had been propagated into his mind. Then the human broke the silence.
"D-do any of you speak...English?" he asked.
"Of course we do!" Vanir exclaimed in English. What barbaric notions was the Empire teaching its children!?
"Oh right...you could talk to Eragon..." he muttered. What! This human kid knew about Eragon! And his whereabouts! How!
"How do you know that name?" an elf to Vanir's right demanded.
"Shit!"
A/N: Right! Sample complete! I may be manipulating or disappointing you a bit with that cliffhanger, but I want a gauge of how much how many people want more. The next chapter, and the rest of the story will come out much faster if I feel like there's interest. Of course, it'll probably come out anyway, but it won't be a priority of mine if no one cares but me.
Oh yeah, and don't sue me. I'm doing this for free, so that would be a bit pointless. Sue me for money I don't have? Good luck.
And yeah, bold = author's thoughts superimposed on the text.
More to come, but how soon? You tell me!