Peony was the third daughter of lord and lady Bulstrige. She was often overlooked, and still had much expected of her. For example to be on time for dinner, with no mud on her skirts. It was a tiresome routine, but Peony was obstinate. Her biggest dream was freedom and adventure.
She often loved to wander in the nearby woods to the mansion, or visit the stables. Although the stable master would frequently remind what her mother would think were she to see her there. He let her stay all the same. She had a particular good relationship with the dapple grey pony, smoky Sometimes she was allowed to ride smoky, if the distance was too far for walking, and the need trivial enough not to warrant a carriage. But it was never that far, and always side-saddle. It was a far cry from galloping across open fields, or trekking as far as only a horse's stamina could take her.
She had a particularly good relationship with smoky Even if it was only because she kept a good supply of mints and sugar cubes in her pockets for the creature.
She would often dream up stories of her and smoky going off on adventures, and she would whisper them in smoky's ear when she thought none of the stable boys could hear. They would laugh at her, she thought, but she knew Smoky could hear her and understand, and that he enjoyed living vicariously through her dreams as much as she did.
On her thirteenth birthday Peony enjoyed many splendid presents from the surrounding lands. Station and hierarchy had become very important in recent times, and the public just seemed to adore the lords and ladies as much as they ought to only adore the king and queen themselves. When the actual royalty went on tours to visit the people, vast crowds would gather, and cheer, people would come for miles to catch a glimpse.
Peony was beside herself with pleasure of opening presents, although she never thought of herself as particularly girl, or proper, she still crooned over the soft silken gowns, and even though she thought her self very grown up she still squeezed each doll and soft toy to her chest as if they were best friends.
But Peony was also over excited for another reason, thirteen is a very special birthday.
The evening before she was sat in the cool summer evening talking to smoky Telling him stories of long ago instead of making her own one's up,
"The stars are beautiful aren't they smoky? You know some people say that they come into being by the death of a dragon. That they are the souls of dragons past. Only the bravest and most noble become stars, but there they are... You may snort Smoky, but I believe it's true. Shall I tell you about the riders?" She let a natural pause fill the air as she deciphered Smoky's expression. She decided it was one of curiosity." OK, I will. Long, long ago, like even before man kind walked the earth, I think, the dragons and the elves were at war with each other. It was devastating to both sides and in the end..." Peony thought for a second "in the end, they made a truce. Because both dragons and elves are very clever you know, much more than me, or even you." She petted smoky on the nose "They called a truce and to keep the peace forever the dragon riders were created. Particular elves and dragons paired up. Like a magic that bound them together for life. Making them best friends, almost like one mind two bodies, some people say. Kind of like me and you," she smiled widely and scratched behind Smoky's ear. "All the same, that would be pretty amazing. Being a dragon rider. A magician as well as having a dragon as your loyal ally." The ability to preform magic was not limited to just dragon riders, but was still a very rare gift in it's own right. "So then there where twelve dragon riders, no wait, maybe it was fourteen? I'm not sure. Anyway there were a few. Together they kept the peace in the world. But then something went wrong. One of them lost their dragon. When a dragon rider dies, the dragon dies too, isn't that sad? But what's more if a dragon dies, it's rider keeps living. I'm not sure what's worse. Some people say it's like losing a piece of your heart, of your chest right here. That all you can feel is the loss, and the emptiness. As if half of your soul was stolen away and dashed to pieces.
"So this dragon rider, his dragon died, and it sent him insane, totally bonkers. He was set on destroying all other dragon riders. He found himself another dragon, how I don't know, dragon's are supposed to be extremely strong willed, but he was incredibly powerful. He turned on the riders, and raised his own small army. Pretty soon there were no more riders or dragons except for him and his dragon.
"Or so it seemed," Peony said dramatically "That's when the most epic war broke out. between Galbatorix and Eragon. Eragon found his dragon's egg, Sapphira's egg and she hatched for him. From that moment they were bonded, and he raised her, and soon they were fighting together, and casting spells together and doing all sorts of amazing things. And together they were powerful enough to end the war and bring peace and freedom back to an enslaved world.
"And you want to know what's more exciting? They found another egg. Everyone was sure there were no more. No more dragons, no eggs, except for Sapphira. Apparently it's beautiful." Peony whispered wistfully.
"But that's not even the most exciting bit. They want to know if this Dragon will chose a rider before it hatches. Everyone who is thirteen must touch the egg, although many other's do, just in case. It hasn't hatched for anyone yet, but it's coming here tomorrow for my birthday. I guess the title of my parents makes me important enough to have the egg brought to us. I mean it's not as if it's fragile.
"Oh smoky, I bet it is gorgeous. I wonder if it will hatch while it's here." Although Peony wished with all of her brave little heart that it would hatch for her, she also wildly beat against the idea. She knew it would not. There was a chance it would hatch for her, but that was such a small chance, it did not seem worth raising her hopes to the height of a dragon, just for them to be swallowed up but the ground.
The egg had been discovered 15 years ago by a human hunter in the beor mountains. Having been forced into a cave to avoid a shrrg he felt the smooth surface in the darkness. Mistaking it for rock he freely lent upon it. Then something strange, he felt a humming warmth from the egg he mistook for a stone, and took it out into the light to examine it.
He took it home and had everyone in his house-hold touch the egg. Then word started to spread, his whole village showed up to try their luck. It never hatched. When the rumour of the dragon's egg reached royal ears a small party was organised to retrieve the egg.
A reward was given to the hunter for finding the egg, and giving it up. When the egg was safely within the royal castle walls it's future was discussed. It was decided that if the egg was laden with the spell to choose a rider, then it's rider must be found. A decree came out; all those who wished to touch the egg merely needed to travel to the castle and request to. This was clearly not a good idea from the first day. Thousands of people filled the surrounding cities pushing the resources to the limit.
A system was put in place your name was taken a date was given to you. That would be the day you could touch the egg. Even with the new organisation, there was a never ending stream of people queuing for their chance. As time dragged along the crowds thinned and the guards of the egg were glad for it. They still had the odd person throw a tantrum when the egg did not hatch for them, attempts to steal the egg, tears and anger, but as less and less people attended these lessened also. After the first year a second decree came about, all thirteen year old children must touch the egg. But in the light of the poverty in some areas it seemed that this was just infeasible for all the children to be able to make the long journey. So the egg moved to them.
It was nearly always on tour going from village to town to city to village again. Featuring in pubs and town squares. When the egg started to recirculate all the children who had turned thirteen since it's last passing through had their chance and it was a good system. Except for there were a great many uppity snooty powerful people in the world, and as it was already said, the people cared very much for the lords and ladies and dukes and duchesses of their land (not because of the uppity snooty ones, for most were indeed kind and charitable), and these people felt it an indignity that their child should wait until their province was on route for the chance. And so it was a general rule that when an upper-class child turned thirteen the egg would be moved so as to be there on the child's birthday.
And so it was that every child aged thirteen to 15 (for it was three years ago the egg passed through) from the town that the Bulstrige mansion looked over, was invited to Peony's birthday.
In the morning Peony could hardly sit still and she rushed through the rooms playing the most energetic game of tag with her younger brother and their two cousins who had come to visit. Until she was forcibly sat down by her aunt and mother. She received a speech on how she had act grown up now she was thirteen, and she must look smart to greet the rest of the guests that were visiting in the morning.
She sighed and rolled her eyes when they weren't looking but all the same felt a twang of shame at being so boisterous on her thirteenth birthday, it was, after all, a very important birthday.
Her older sister Lily, who was 18, wished her a happy birthday and smoothed Peony's yellow curls into place. She looked a lot like Lily, they had the same hair, and face shape. But Lily always seemed so poised. Peony smiled at her over breakfast and straightened her back in and effort to be like her older sister, now that she was older too.
The first guest to arrive was her older brother Wes, who was something like 24, Peony was by then the complete picture of mature and poised, she thought, and greeted him as she would have greeted a stranger of high-standing. He humoured her and bowed in return, calling her lady Peony, but when he saw Lily he hugged her, and when he saw jack (the youngest son at eight) he picked him up and swung him around, a game he used to play when jack was four. It was at this Peony thought it OK to act less than formal around her brother and ran to hug him too. He picked her up as well, although he didn't swing her like he used to, she enjoyed it anyway, and was quick to tell him how much they'd missed him, and ask what his adventures had been like in army. He replied not much thankfully. Peace was at a peak in Alagaeesia, so all the army did was train and guard.
So many people turned up they sort of blurred together. A few faces stuck out of the crowd, people Peony had met before, and bizarre strangers. A woman in deep purple and bright pink, a rather handsome young man, an old man who hunched and smelled of onions. Peony had been standing for nearly 2 hours greeting guests of high rank her feet started hurting and she had to try hard not to look bored when the last guest arrived.
He introduced himself as Baron Saxe. He looked to be in his 50s, and bent to kiss Peony's hand, smiling at her mother as if he was humouring a small child. His dark hair framed his face in thick sideburns, and Peony felt a slimy sort atmosphere hang around him, and couldn't keep the look off her face. The look you get when you take an immediate dislike to someone although you can't put your finger on why.
More presents were presented for the young Lady to be, and couldn't keep her eye from wandering to the small room which was slowly filling with gifts. Thirteen was a very special age Peony reminded herself, remembering how last year now seemed sparse in comparison.
There was a huge lunch, tables and tables of people, family, and highly born people filling the space. Peony sat next to her parents at the high table, the top table. She talked with her cousins and siblings, and the whole thing was very pleasant. Until Lunch ended, and people took it upon themselves to come to the high table and talk to the still sitting family of the house. Peony wouldn't have minded, she thought, if someone had something more to say to her than "Ooh, what a pretty young girl!" As if that wasn't drummed into her head enough, and was it even true? She smiled sweetly and only felt truly bothered when the baron himself approached the table.
"Baron Saxe," Her mother smiled warmly, practised at social interaction, "My lady," The baron bowed. "What a wonderful reception, and might I say what a beautiful young lady we are celebrating." Peony suppressed a sigh, but couldn't bring herself to smile.
"Thank you baron." Her mother smiled again, she seemed to be egging him to leave rather than make more conversation. Maybe she felt the same automatic dislike Peony had, only could manage to hide it very well. The Baron bowed and walked away.
The next event of the day was the procession of thirteen to fifteen year old children entering a sort of secondary hall, not completely separate from the main hall but distinguished as a separate room. They mingled with each other easily, Peony thought she recognised some of them. They were obviously in their Sunday best, but Peony thought to herself their Sunday best was quite plain. She almost felt over dressed when she joined them. She managed to find some people she had played with as a child to stand next to, but kept fiddling with the frill and lace of her decadent dress.
And then there it was. Through the large open door four dressed up guards followed by the official (who's job it was to take a note of the people who had had their chance, not a job to be envied) who looked withered like soft aged paper. There was silence. Peony had half expected a fanfare. But this was it. Five people, and a wooden box about a foot by a foot.
They placed the box on a small table that had been set aside for that very purpose. Whispering started amongst the crowds. The old man sat down next to the pedestal and the guards arranged themselves behind him and beside the box. One guard opened the box, swinging the engraved lid on it's hinges revealing the top 5cm of a deep violet egg, the green wasn't still it had darker and lighter streaks that seemed to move but when you focused on them they were perfectly still.
Everyone was silent once more, and Peony was scared she was expected to do something, but also scared that she should do nothing. Until the old man called her name
"Peony Bulstrige" He didn't even look up. She took tentative steps towards the pedestal, her heart was going a mile a minute, what if it didn't happen? What if it did? What if everyone expected it to happen and that's why everyone was so quiet.
All too soon she was close enough to reach out and touch the egg. She laid her hand flat out and her hand met the smooth humming surface of the egg. Nothing happened. The official wrote fast, and a queue formed behind her. She left and sat down at the high table. The evening moved quickly the egg hatched for no one and evening fell when all the children in the surrounding towns had been and most of the regal visitors themselves, having not seen the egg hatch, left. Wes has promised to stay for the week, and the official was being put up by the Bulstriges to give him and his guards a night's sleep before they had to continue the never ending tour.
