This is my first fan-fic and English is not my first language, so it might not be up to standards with the other stories in this archive. Don't expect me to have all the proper grammar and spellings, because I am human, and I do make mistakes. I will try and update at least once a week. Anyway, enough ranting, enjoy.
Chapter 1
Eragon glanced over towards the huge sapphire bulk towards his right, reaching over and scratching her under her scaly jaw. She hummed in satisfaction. They both sat together, comforted in each other's presence. The sky was tinted a beautiful golden orange. His hair gently swayed from the cool evening breeze. He heard the loud, noticeable footsteps of an approaching urgal.
"Ebrithil-Eragon, Saphira-elda, the Queen of the Elves wishes to speak with you in the hall of mirrors," he said hastily.
Eragon acknowledged the urgal rider with a slight nod and a flick of his hand.
"We shall arrive there shortly, Nartug." he lazily replied.
Little one, what does the two-legged-elf-queen want to speak to us about?
I do not know, Saphira, but let us be off, for we do not want her to be angry and impatient at you, for we both know that even the elves, with their immortal lifespan, have a very important schedule.
What other than sit upon that knotted throne, watching and listening as the elf lords and ladies argue and bicker, their melodic voices getting rather annoying, then after an uneventful day of- -
Alright, I get it, life as queen of the elves can get rather, well, how would you say it, boring.
If I could get my way I would eat them all, I've heard that elves are rather tasty. Saphira said, licking her chops.
A small, half-smile graced his elven face as he rolled his eyes at Saphira's antics.
What? You were once like that too.
I can hardly imagine me being that naïve.
Saphira sent him a memory of him covered halfway in mud, chasing a pig through the swamps.
Come one, that was hardly fair, I was only one-and-ten years old.
Exactly my point. She huffed a puff at smoke at him, making him cough and frown, emitting a deep rumble in Saphira's throat. He tried to swat the smoky, grey air from around his head.
Let us not tarry, for the elven queen grows more impatient.
Agreed.
Eragon slowly got up off the ground dusting his leggings from the dirt that accumulated from the ground. He nimbly jumped up on to Saphira's left foreleg, and then climbed into his saddle. She lifted off the ground with three powerful flaps of her wings, and rose towards the clouds, gazing down upon the new home of the riders, Dras abr Evarínya, the City of the Stars.
He reminisced when he set off leaving Alagaesia forever, bound by fate and duty, to find a new home for rebuilding the riders, and more importantly, the revival of the dragon race. It seemed like weeks for him, Saphira, and his band of Elves, sailing upon the river that wound and wound, until it spread out into a lake, its waters dark and murky, filled with mud and forgotten creatures that once loomed the earth. Eventually, the lake filled itself out into another ocean, an ocean that one could not see an ending to it, spanning from east to west, north and south, seemingly open water. And they sailed. Another couple of weeks flew past him and Eragon along with his companions grew restless over water. They needed to find a land quick for their supplies were dwindling by the second, and they could not live on water alone.
When it seemed all hope was lost, there, on the horizon was an island, twice the size of Vroengard in Alagaesia. With renewed vigor, Eragon and Saphira, along with the help of the elves, made their way towards their new discovery. As the sailing vessel grew closer, the once dark and cold waters grew warmer, clearer, and shallower. As soon as they struck land, he and Saphira went to explore this new terrain, to explore whether this island was the one they were looking, striving for. The first few miles off the coast was filled with a lush, dark green forest, its canopy covering its emerald gold underneath. The air was warm and moist with water, as drops of rain accumulated on Saphira's scales, making it look like she was a burning, shining sapphire, glowing in the sky. Towards the center of the island was a large, rugged, mountainous terrain, filled with large and smaller caves, as if they once were a nesting place for dragons. The mountains here were without a doubt larger than the ones in the spine, but relatively smaller than the Boers. It stretched all the way from the northern coast, circling the island, leaving the southern port open, as if it acted as a wall, keeping unwanted dangers in or possibly dangerous creatures out. Within the mountain range was a lake rivaling the size or Lake Leona, a fresh supply of water, for the possible future inhabitants of the riders and wild dragons.
As the neared toward the northern part of the island, they saw the unmistakable glint of scales, conveying that there was, in fact, a dragon on the island. Saphira, overcome with joy, roared a roar of happiness, that there were other dragon in this world, other than the three belonging to Arya Drottning, rider of the emerald dragon Firnen, Murtagh, son of Morzan, half-brother to the Leader of the Riders, and rider of the blood-red dragon Thorn, and Eragon Shadeslayer, Leader of the new order of the riders, Slayer of the oath-breaker Galbatorix, and rider to the magnificent sapphire dragon, Saphira. The other dragon, its colour a pale yellow glanced upwards towards the sound of the roar before hesitating and rushing up, flying towards Saphira, with a rider upon its back.
We are her, little one.
Oh, I must have gotten caught up in my memories.
Humph. She blew a cloud of ash and then said, let us be off then.
Thank you for reading, hate to put you on a cliffhanger, but this is how it is. Read & Review.