It had been nearly a century ago that Eragon had freed all of Alagaësia from Galbatorix's tyranny. The land had since then been led by the more just bloodlines of Eragon's elder cousin, Roran. Yet their current king, Garron, was quickly losing favor with his people. Poverty was spreading across the lands as the king locked himself in his castle in the capitol, while the cities and villages had fallen prey to greedy merchants and tax collectors. Of these was Carvahall, which had been restored into a bustling city after Eragon had left Alagaësia for good. The only building left to ruin was the old farmhouse on the outskirts of town, a monument of the last Rider's past. Not far from the farmhouse, near the edges of the Spine, was the home of Eva.
The air was unseasonably cool as Eva returned home after buying food from town. She sighed as she approached the gravel road that led to her small farm, carrying only a few strips of meat and a loaf of bread. She was young, with dark auburn hair and striking green eyes. She lived alone with her mother, her father having died in the Spine when she was only three years of age. Ever since, money had been harder to come by with each year that past.
"Mother, I'm back," she called as she reached the gate, glancing at the garden where her mother, Linota, knelt weeding. The woman stood up in dirtied clothes, throwing what she'd just plucked into an old rusty bucket. She was beautiful, with soft grey eyes and golden colored hair. Her youthful features opposed her actual age.
"Oh, hello dear," Linota answered, following her daughter into the cottage. "This was with all the money I gave you?" she asked, hoping otherwise.
Eva nodded, looking down. Only weeks before, the same amount of money had bought them twice the amount of food.
Her mother touched Eva's cheek with her hand. "It will be alright. I'll go in the morning to talk to Balard. He should be able to help us out."
Balard was the owner of the bakery in Carvahall, and a cousin to Bero, Eva's father. Though he was a burly, intimidating man, he was kind hearted and helped out Eva's family when they were in need.
"He must have been sick today. Agnes was there instead."
Linota frowned, and then sighed. Agnes was the co-owner of the shop. She was an older woman, irritable and almost cruel to her customers. "Well, maybe I'll catch her on a good day tomorrow."
Eva looked at her mother doubtfully, and then helped her make a stew out of the meat. They ate in silence before withdrawing to their rooms for the night.
The next morning, as Linota left for Carvahall, Eva went to catch fish along the Anora River. The sun was bright and welcoming, the water more peaceful than usual. With her basket and tools sprawled in the grasses, she stood patiently at the water's edge with her makeshift pole, the slight breeze playing with strands of her hair. Eva wasn't the greatest at fishing, but she had an incessant amount of patience. Here and there she felt a tug, but otherwise the line remained relaxed. Suddenly, a hard pull on the line threatened to tear the pole from her hands. Eva wrenched the pole back, stepping farther from the bank, but the pole only bent closer to the water. Just as she was afraid either the line or pole would break, a monstrous fish burst from the river, spraying water in every direction. Eva quickly hurled the line behind her, the fish disappearing into the grass. Just as she set her pole down, something caught her eye in the water. Edging closer to the bank, Eva examined the object half buried in the water. It appeared to be a gem, its luminous green color vibrant even as the water rushed around it. Eva reached into the icy cold water and pulled out a perfectly smooth emerald-green stone. Though it had rested in sharp rocks and sand, she was unable to find even one flaw on its surface. She turned the stone in her hands several times, awed by the way it reflected back the sun's light.
This is just what we've been waiting for, Eva thought excitedly. A gem this large is sure to be worth a great deal.
Eva hugged the stone to her chest and retrieved her pole from the grass. As she glanced at the basket she'd brought, however, her breath caught in her chest. Woven into the basket was the pattern of a dragon. Eva stared at the stone in her hands, realizing at once that it might not even be a stone, but rather an egg.
A century before, the last of the Riders had left Alagaësia forever, taking the last of the dragons and their legacy with him. The very thought of dragons had faded almost into myth, the only proof of their existence engraved in books or encased in jewel. To find one now was impossible. Eva shook her head, ridding herself of the thought.
I will take the stone to Carvahall tomorrow, she decided. Perhaps someone there can tell me for certain what it really is.
Eva gathered everything up, hid the stone in her pack, and made her way back home. The farmhouse was empty; her mother was still in Carvahall. Eva threw her pack on her bed and then went to cooking the fish she'd all but forgot about.