I'll say this once and get it over with... In no way, shape, or form, do I own or claim to own the Inheritance Cycle. It all belongs to the wonderfully talented Christopher Paolini.


Formora of the Forsworn – A Rider's Tale

Prologue


A young elf with piercing green eyes, pale skin, and bright red hair waited impatiently in a long lineup winding through the many tree houses of Ellesmera. She tapped her foot, gazing with wonder to the very front of the lineup, where a gold, a purple, and a brown egg lay on velvet cushions, guarded by a rider and his dragon.

What caught her attention the most, though, was the way she was almost at the very front. If she was picked… If a dragon picked her to be a Rider… It would be a dream come true for the young elf. But she was realistic, and she knew the odds of a dragon picking her were very, very low. All the same, she knew she had to try.

The person standing in front of her went up and ran their hand over each egg gently, before walking away a bit disappointedly. The elf knew that if Faolin wasn't picked, then what were the odds of a dragon picking her, a young elf barely twenty years old?

She reverently stepped forward, her eyes wide in awe, thought after thought racing through her mind. She touched the gold egg, then walked over to the purple and touched it, too. Neither of them seemed to react to her, so she nervously trod over to the brown egg, the last one, and ran her hand over it. Nothing happened, and, disappointed, she turned to walk away.

A voice rang out behind her. "Wait, child!"

She turned excitedly. "Yes, Rider Thuviel?"

Thuviel smiled, motioning for her to approach him. "What's your name, child?"

"My name?" the elf seemed surprised. "My name… My name is Formora."