Eragon was my childhood favourite book, so what could be better than The 100 in the world of Alagaësia?
It doesn't matter if you haven't read Eragon (the film deserves no mention), it will still make sense and will just be more surprising.
It is a slow burn, but not as slow as Arya/Eragon.
Clexa fic!
All the inhabitants of Carvahall were taught from an early age to beware the Spine, facts and fiction merged together from word of mouth and the resulting horror stories were enough to scare off the most veteran of hunters, leaving only a few who were either courageous or stupid enough to venture the wooded mountain range.
It was said that half of Cage's Imperial Army, the largest military force to ever exist, was lost in the Spine with no explanation found for why. Few who ventured into the mountains returned without injury.
It wasn't that this knowledge had not been passed onto Clarke, it was just that she chose to ignore it. Countless times she had taken her trusted, worn, wooden bow, multitude of pouches for medicinal herbs and her travelling bag deep into the Spine, with no problems at all.
The forest was teeming with life. Clarke's family were often reliant on her bringing back meat, her cousin's occasionally joined her, but their fear of the Spine was much more deep rooted than in Clarke and they preferred to avoid it. Instead they focused their efforts on helping their father with the farm.
Clarke also collected herbs when she could, she had been apprenticed with the village healer, Nyko, for two years, and as she was nearing the age of adulthood, 16, she would soon have it confirmed as her chosen profession.
Clarke knew she was almost to the herd of deer she had been following for two days, the footprints were more fresh, as were their droppings. There was a lake half an hour west of where she was, the herd would most likely resting there before continuing their journey, an opportunity Clarke was eager to take, so she could be home by the day after next.
She sped up her pace until nearing the herd, where she crouched behind a bank downwind, as to not alert her presence. She quickly spotted the Doe she had been aiming for, she had a twisted back leg and remained trailing behind the rest of the group, making for a much slower target.
Using careful and quiet movements, Clarke reached for her already strung bow and placed an arrow in the nocking point. She rose and held it steady, knowing she had one shot or risk losing her prey completely. Taking careful aim, Clarke breathed in deeply then released, smiling preemptively as the arrow flew straight and strong towards its intended target.
Just as the arrow had been released an explosion broke through the air, startling the deer and sending them running. Clarke's arrow landed with a firm thump into the tree behind where the Doe had been moments before.
She let out a curse, both at the sudden noise and the missed target. She nocked another arrow instinctively and cautiously approached the small crater that had appeared, close to where the herd had been.
Grass in the surrounding 20 metre radius had been flattened completely, trees had been stripped of their leaves and smoke rose as tendrils from the crater.
Unable to control her curiosity, Clarke stepped even closer and peered into the crater to see what had caused such a disruptive force.
She frowned in confusion at the innocuous looking blue stone, not what she had been expecting at all.
Cautiously she stepped into the crater and prodded the stone with her arrow, before quickly jumping back. When nothing happened she touched it tentatively, expecting it to be hot from the explosion, but was surprised to find it cool.
Clarke put the bow on her back and picked up the blue mystery, examining it closely. It was a dark sapphire blue, with thin white veins spiderwebbed across it. She had never seen a stone so polished or smooth before, a foot long and oval shaped.
Clarke knew of magic, even if it was a topic treated warily in Carvahall, and she could think of no other way the stone had turned up, especially in such a dramatic fashion. Magic was a cause for concern and had never brought anything good to their village, in fact the tyrant king himself had magic, due to being a Dragon Rider.
All of the warnings of the dangers of magic and orders to stay away from it flittered through her head, but so did other questions.
Where did it come from? What is it for? Was it sent to me, or is it a coincidence?
After more deliberation, Clarke decided to put the stone into her backpack to take with her, after all it did make her fail her hunt, so perhaps it could at least be used to buy some meat instead.
She walked further into the forest and found a fallen tree with large upturned roots to shelter her for the night. She spread her bedroll and quickly ate a dinner of bread and cheese. Even after rolling into her blankets and closing her eyes, Clarke was unable to find sleep easily, the events of the day turning in her mind, like trying to complete a puzzle with half the pieces missing.
Clarke woke to the soft singing of birds and the pink and yellow sky of the sun rising with her. The ground was covered in a thin layer of frost, and the lake had partly frozen over, an unwelcome reminder of the upcoming Winter.
Clarke decided to just eat an apple on her walk back home, she wanted to arrive as quickly as possible, and soon found the faint game trail which was the quickest path out of the forest.
It was late into the evening when she reached the steep ravine with the Anora River a steady flow far below. She camped out in a thicket close to the rocky wall and was soothed to sleep by the gurgling of water.
After another half day of brisk walking, she reached the Igualda Falls, the loud rushing water drowning out all other sound.
She grimaced at the slippery trail down an incline, but could see Palancar Valley in the distance, a secluded area surrounded by beautiful, if unforgiving land, giving her strong motivation to continue.
Far into the distance she could see patches of farmland, the size of her hand from this distance, a patchwork of green and tan land. She brushed her hands through dead grass as she carefully made her way down the steep hill, enjoying the sensation of soft tickling.
Carvahall was one of only two villages in the valley, the other was Therinsford, they had a good relationship and often helped each other in times of crisis.
The sun was setting by the time Clarke reached familiar low thatched roofed, stout log buildings, with smoke a steady constant from the chimneys, giving the air a familiar woody smell. The wide porches were used to gather and talk, nearby a group of men were smoking pipes and swapping tales, whilst their wives came and scolded them for being late.
The rapidly darkening sky made the colossal of stars stand out and reveal their beauty, a sight Clarke could stare at for hours, if she was so inclined. But for now she needed to reach the Butcher's before they closed shop.
She wove her way through the buildings and readied herself with a deep breath before entering the squat shop. It was well lit with lanterns and a small crackling fire, creating a welcoming warmth from the brisk cold outside. A bell on the door tinkled to alert her presence, and immediately Pike, the Butcher, appeared on the other side of the long counter.
Pike was one of few inhabitants of Carvahall to have skin so dark and not from a long summer, his head was bald and he wore a short black beard, his deep set brown eyes were full of disdain as he looked down at Clarke.
Pike had always treated her as if she was something unclean, a disrespect also given to her uncle and cousins, so naturally Clarke had never liked him.
His apron was bloodied and a proud array of knives hung around his waist, these in contrast were spotless and sparkling. Despite this fact he pulled the largest from it's hook and began closely inspecting it and rubbing with a cloth, a clear intimidation tactic that Clarke attempted to ignore.
"So, mighty hunter, I see you return empty handed," an unpleasant sneer appeared on his face and Clarke had to swallow her anger, knowing her quick temper could cause unwanted trouble.
She ignored the barbed comment and spoke as if he had not said anything.
"I would like to buy some meat."
"Of course, and do you have money?"
"Well no, but-"
Pike scoffed, "I'm not a charity, do you see other merchants giving away their wares? I think not. Besides, it's late and I'm closing shop."
Clarke glared, "I have something to trade."
She reached into her bag and pulled out the beautiful stone, it bathed in the light of the fire, almost as if it was reaching for it.
Pikes eyes widened and interest gleamed in his eyes as he leaned forwards.
"How much is it worth?"
"I'm not sure," admitted Clarke hesitantly, "it must be of some value if someone shaped it so carefully."
Pike sighed with impatience, "Of course. But if you don't know the value I will give you 5 crowns."
"That's not even enough for a weeks worth! It must be at least ten times that-"
Pike interrupted Clarke's protest with a malicious tone, "if you don't want to take the deal girl, then wait for the traders. Either way I'm losing patience."
The traders were a group of merchants and entertainers who visited every spring and winter, they travelled far and wide and brought eccentric wares to be sold. More importantly, they also bought goods from the villagers and excess crops from the farmer. They sold necessities like seeds, animals, fabrics, sugar, all things to get them through another year.
However, it wasn't certain when they would arrive and Clarke's family needed the meat now. She sighed heavily before responding, "Fine. I accept."
Pike smiled, "Good. And just out of curiousity, where did you find this?" He picked the stone up from the counter, and Clarke had to swallow at the wrongness of the sight. His greedy hands turned the stone over as he examined it more closely.
"The spine. I was out hunting when-"
"Get out! I'll have nothing to do with magic, or anything to do with that cursed place," he pushed the stone away as if it would attack him.
"You refuse to trade with me? But we had just made a deal!" Clarke held the stone to her protectively, an almost unconscious action amidst her indignation.
"Yes, I refuse. Unless you give me coin." Pike stepped threateningly towards Clarke, knife still in hand, "Go. Before I make you."
The door behind her swung open loudly, and Clarke turned around in alarm. A breath of relief escaped her as Nyko, The Healer, walked in, with Lincoln trailing behind, looking determined.
Lincoln was Pike's only child, a man of 16, already six foot two, with impressive muscle to match. He was Pike's pride and joy, especially since Ismira, Lincoln's mother, died. Clarke wasn't sure how, but it meant that he was overbearing and incredibly protective of Lincoln, who tended to stay out of his father's quarrels, which is why Clarke was so surprised to see him.
If Lincoln was tall, then Nyko was giant, towering above everyone with a fierce looking beard and long braided hair. His face was usually in a scowl, but he had kind eyes and a kind heart, as reflected by his chosen profession. His thick build and large muscles, were alone enough to intimidate anyone he came across, then the tattoos that marked his face with broad, confident lines were enough to terrify them.
Nyko was one of the few rare outsiders who came to live in Carvahall, it's secluded nature made visitors unlikely. Tattoos were even more rarely seen, in fact the first time most of the villages inhabitants had ever seen them was with Nyko arriving ten years ago.
"What is going on?" His low, grumbling voice echoed across the room and Pike nervously began an explanation, his confidence growing with his tale.
"This...this girl came in here with no coin accepting to buy my goods! When I refused she continued to badger me and refuses to leave."
Clarke's eyes widened with the lies and she rushed to defend herself.
"We agreed upon trade for this stone I found, but when he learnt I found it in the Spine he refused it as payment."
Nyko nodded understanding, "I dislike the Spine myself Pike, but it is no reason to refuse payment."
Lincoln joined in the discussion, stepping forward and firmly saying, "Father, Clarke is willing to pay, trade so we can have supper."
Pike's eyes narrowed dangerously, "Go the house son. This is no business of yours." Lincoln opened his mouth to argue but was interrupted, "Leave now!"
Lincoln threw Clarke an apologetic look and stalked out, anger clearly lining his movement.
Nyko pulled out a pouch of coins and put them on the counter, "Fine, you can deal with me instead. Give me enough to fill Clarke's pack, and I want the finest cuts."
Pike scowled, and looked as if he was about to refuse but seemed to think better of it. Refusing to serve Nyko meant he had the right to return the same courtesy, and as the only healer it was not a move Pike was willing to risk.
He stalked into the back room and a flurry of chopping could be heard, muttered curses along with it.
He returned a few minutes later, arms full of wrapped meat, which Clarke hastily put into her bag as Pike took the money and then continued cleaning the knife as if the last twenty minutes had never occurred
Once they had left, Clarke turned to her mentor and thanked him profusely.
"Here, this is rightfully yours now." She offered him the odd stone, to which he laughed and shook his head.
"It's okay Clarke, you keep it. As for payment...think of it as a bonus for your hard work as my apprentice."
She grinned at him, "Thank you Nyko."
He ruffled her hair affectionately, "No problem, but shouldn't you be getting back? I'm sure your uncle is worried about you."
Clarke nodded eagerly and turned to leave, when Nyko's voice stopped her.
"Oh I almost forgot, Lincoln wanted me to give you a message to pass on to your cousin."
Clarke resisted the urge to roll her eyes, her cousin and Lincoln had been courting for some time now, but Pike's disapproval of her family made it difficult for them to interact directly.
"He wanted to tell her that she is the most beautiful girl he has ever seen and to let her know he will meet her in town when the merchants arrive," Nyko looked embarrassed at relaying such a personal message.
Clarke nodded, "Passing it on is the least I can do, since he risked his father's anger for bringing you to help."
"He has a kind heart, that one. Tell Octavia to keep him close." He winked and then left, letting Clarke continue her journey home, the blue stone resting safely in her arms.
Let me know what you think:)