Ch. 1 Wyrda
The elven maiden felt the cold snow and pine needles crunch beneath her feet. Cursing in the Ancient Language, the elf stopped short in her tracks, senses alert. If she had alerted anyone of her presence, her mission would be done for. Everything hung on her survival.
A low growl emitted from a voice downwind. The being muttered, "Who is it? Who is there?"
The elf fled, not recognizing the voice at all. It was a deep, gruff and ominous voice that told the elf to leave as quickly as possible. She ran, as swiftly as the wind, into the forest. She knew that, somehow, coming across this unknown being was a fatal error, whether he was her enemy or not.
Just as the elf felt that she was safe, another growl greeted her- but in the opposite direction of which she had came! No being was faster than an elf, except for a Skulblaka. Except for a dragon.
The being did not speak, just growled. The elf heard massive footsteps and turned to flee, fearful that this creature would attack her and win. At least she had a chance with a humanoid being, so she took her chances with the male behind her.
The elf ran straight into the male, who was tall and shrouded in a cloak. The only part of his face that was visible was his mouth, which was upturned into a smirk.
"Thrysta," his voice was practically a hiss, and the elf noticed the Ancient Language use. Magic was being used against her, and she had no time to prepare or counter the attack. The elf blacked out within seconds.
EEE
Eragon was a loner. A hermit, if you will. After Murtagh's betrayal, he had gone to Urû'baen to try and rescue Murtagh and Thorn. By that time, Galbatorix had murdered them both for disobeying his orders. Eragon had not understood why, for Galbatorix had just helped the Varden's chances. Perhaps he knew that Eragon was coming to save Murtagh.
It didn't matter. When Eragon was stopped by a friend of the Varden in Urû'baen, he couldn't believe the stranger at first when he told Eragon that Murtagh and Thorn were dead. But Eragon realized that the stranger was not lying when he tried to scry Murtagh and all Eragon received was darkness.
Eragon plunged into a pit of loss and depression, and therefore Saphira by extension. Both realized that the loss was bigger this time, perhaps because both secretly knew that Murtagh was still alive before. They knew that they had to return to the Varden, and they did- but things only got worse. Orik was chosen as the leader of the Dwarves, but then was assassinated. Arya was sent out with the elves' best spell casters to retrieve the green egg from Galbatorix, and did not return. Nasuada retrieved a horrible injury to her arm, loosing all feeling in it. Things were going badly.
And then Roran died.
That loss came with the end of sanity for Eragon. Eragon locked himself in his room, not talking to anyone. He was alone. Saphira was the only one who got through to him then, and of course she felt depressed as well. But she did not go insane until Glaedr and Oromis died: Oromis because of his injury and Glaedr by extension.
Saphira went crazy then. She tore up trees and killed elves, clearing a part of Du Weldenvarden. Then Eragon emerged from his room, jumped on Saphira, and they rode away to the farthest reaches of Du Weldenvarden, even farther than that- to the North, past Alagaësia itself. Then the two went into hiding, learning all they could about magic and the Dragon Riders from another Dragon Rider who had escaped to there. And then the old mentor, named Falenirvre, and his silver dragon Raneir passed away. But Saphira and Eragon did not morn terribly over their third mentors, for they had learned from them that death may come, but one's spirit never truly left. And with that, Saphira and Eragon roamed the northern forest, learning all of its secrets.
And now it was years later- Saphira and Eragon did not know how many- and they were practically one with the forest. They had forgotten the way most of their past friends' presences felt, only remembered the names and what they associated the name with. Whenever Eragon thought of Arya he remembered friendship, love, and bitter rejection. Whenever he thought of Murtagh he remembered friendship, brotherhood, and betrayal. Whenever he thought of Brom he remembered fatherhood, mentor, and loss. Everything made him feel only emotions, and each one had some sense of negativity connected with it. Even if the negativity wasn't about the person, it had to do with the person and Eragon learned to prefer to not think about his past. Saphira, by extension, learned to not as well.
Now their lives where truly one, controlled by the sheer, animalistic desire to be born anew, and without pain. They killed any intelligent killer unless it was a dragon, letting the Skulblakas go do to their near extinction. Any other creature, mostly hominid, was killed.
It is this, still as intelligent, just independent; Eragon and Saphira that the elf came across.
Eragon whispered a crushing spell so that he would not kill the stranger, but only put her into a deep sleep so Eragon could examine her.
I wonder who we have come across now, Saphira? He asked, thoroughly amused.
I recognize the presence somewhat, Saphira mused.
As do I. Let us unmask this figure, Eragon nodded and pulled up the elf's hood.
Eragon gasped, and Saphira growled.
It was Arya.
EEE
Eragon paced back and forth in their cave, which used to be Falenirvre and Raneir's cave.
What are we going to do, Saphira? The past, which we have tried so hard to escape, has found us! Eragon was about to scream.
I know, I know. This is a disaster. We should let her go, erase her memory so that she can not recall this event, but…Saphira shook her head sadly.
But if we let her go, that will be like completely letting go of the past. Besides, she needs help… Eragon sighed.
Saphira nodded, yes. Let's keep her; we need some company around here anyway. And the Varden are a lost cause now, after all.
I don't think so, Eragon sighed, I mean, they were, but not after this.
And Eragon held up a green dragon egg, which had been carried by Arya.
O, Brignesiæ! Saphira cursed. (Brignesiæ is the equivalent to a swear such as "craptastic.")
Indeed, Eragon smirked, however, I believe that we shall hold this egg hostage, shall we not?
Yes, as we shall hold Arya. Saphira nodded, staring at the sleeping elf.
Their way of life had suddenly changed.