A/N soo… this is "The Spirit Rider"! I hope you like it and leave lots of reviews. Here is the full summery.
Saphira has had a vision of another dragon and his injured rider, but everyone tells her it is only the spirit rider, the legendary phantom that haunts the dreams of riders and their dragons. But Saphira is determined to prove they are real and help them before it is too late.
Hollyandmisltoe
♥
The trees of the forest were green with springs first rain. The air was clean and crisp, filled with the sounds of swallows and jays. Splashing water could be heard from a hidden creek where a family of deer were feeding on the fresh baby grass. A feeling of peace spread throughout the mountain.
Where the trees were not as clustered together and shades of light spilt through the leaves, a dragon of shinning silver stood alone, staring at the ground. Wet blood coated his nose and dripped slowly into the dirt where a body lay, half covered by a cloak. The dragon nudged the body, but it remained motionless. He lifted his majestic head to the clear sky and let out a roar of pure agony, as if he was the one covered in blood, slowly dieing.
It seemed to last forever. He did not look up as the other animals of the woods scattered, or when the dear family froze in fear at his sight, but his brilliant silver eyes remained linked to the person on the ground.
He roared again, this time softer, as if he was calling out to someone. He slowly moved forward and, as careful as his size would allow, wrapped his massive talons around the body. He sprung off the ground from three legs and gently flew out above the trees. The wind was stronger then it was in the forest, but the silver dragon managed to fly without turbulence.
The wind blew aside the blond hair of the wounded person, which was long and flowing, revealing the delicate face of a girl. A girl of surpassing beauty. Her face was deathly pale and a trickle of blood was making its way down from the corner of her soft lips.
Looking down from his flight, the dragon noticed the blood and picked up the speed. But his eyes were confused and his head swung from one direction to the other, as if he couldn't decide were to go. He let out another cry, this time even quieter and pleading, as he looked back down at the girl. The blood had reached the end of her chin and dropped into the wind, flying in the other direction and slowly making its way down to the trees.
Saphira snapped open her sapphire blue eyes, looking around the clearing like a hawk. It was dark, the camp fire had burned out a long time ago, and sun rise wasn't for another hour or so. But she could make out the outline of her rider, Eragon, still sleeping next to her. A little ways away lay Roran, half off his bed roll. She looked back at Eragon, recognizing the usual trance he fell into when he slept. She wondered if he had seen the same thing as she did.
It was too real to be a dream. She could have counted the scales on the silver dragons neck. She could smell the dear and the fresh mountain air. And the blood. The image was printed clearly into her mind, and she could still see him, flying through the sky, confused on where to go.
She could also still hear his cries. His pleading. He was begging for help.
She looked up at the sky and noticed it slowly turning into a dark turquoise. Eragon would be waking soon, out of habit. And no doubt, looking down, she saw him begin to stir and open his eyes. Good morning, little one.
Good morning. Why are you up so early?
I only woke a little before you. Did you have any dreams? She was hoping he had seen the silver dragon too. But Eragon just looked at her funny.
No, why?
No reason. I was just… curious.
He looked at her disbelievingly, but dropped the subject and went over to wake Roran. He had to almost punch him and hiss his name loudly in his ear before Roran budged, and when he finally woke, he cursed his cousin and fell back onto his bed roll. "Eragon, it must be five in the morning!"
"And there's no better time to fly." He threw a roll of bread at Roran from the saddle bag. "We have half a days fly ahead of us. And the sooner we leave, the closer to noon we will get there, which is the ideal time to attack. And if we leave now, you'll be with Katrina before night fall, if all goes well."
Still half asleep, Roran sat up and began packing away his bed roll as Eragon went to saddle Saphira. Are you okay? He said, noticing the distant look in the dragons eyes.
Oh, yes, I'm fine. She said, snapping out of her day dream. I just didn't sleep very much last night.
That wasn't wise. You know what we're doing today.
I know. I was just keeping an extra eye open. I don't feel safe this close to Uru'baen.
Neither do I, but we're almost to Helgrind and we'll be back in Surda soon.
You are right. Said Saphira, attempting unsuccessfully to shove the vision out of her head. Lets go. She said as Eragon tightened the last strap and finished packing his bed roll. He went over to help Roran, who was having trouble tying his together, and with a few words the mat and blankets securely tied itself.
Soon they were off into the dark morning sky, but with the eyes of an elf and a dragon, Eragon and Saphira could see perfectly as if it were the middle of the day. Roran, on the other hand, was staring blindly down at the trees speeding past below, feeling again sick to his stomach as Saphira lurched forward and rose on an up draft.
Again, Eragon notice something on Saphira's mind. What are you thinking about?
What? She asked distractedly.
You have been acting weird all morning.
I told you, I didn't sleep well last night.
Come on, Saphira, you know we can't hide anything from each other.
Saphira's thoughts flashed at that last remark to the conversation they had had back on the burning plains where she had yelled at Eragon for trying to hide his hurt and surprise about Murtagh. Well, alright.
She retold of her vision about the silver dragon on the female rider in what seemed like one breath, eager to tell it to her rider. And when she finally finished, Eragon was silent for a minute before saying, That's some very detailed dream.
But it wasn't a dream! It was too real to have been. And he was calling, Eragon! The silver dragon was calling for help. His rider is dying!
Saphira, you know that you, Thorn, and Shruikan are the only dragons left in Alagaesia-
But what if he's from beyond the Beor mountains? Or even above Du Weldenvarden?
It is- possible. But lets concentrate on what we are doing now.
So Saphira dropped the subject, though all she wanted to do was convince him that they were really and that it was his duty as a dragon rider to help them. The sun was beginning to rise over the trees and in the distance they could see the large rock mountain of Helgrind, but Saphira did not see it. Again, her head was filled with the mountain air and the morning sunlight. There was the silver dragon, still flying through the wind, carrying his bleeding rider in his talons. As the dragon turned, his eyes met hers and he held the contact for a minute before the vision melted away again, with the faint cry of the dragon lingering in her ears.
Help us, Saphira.
A/N soo… what do you think?? It was a bit shorter then I hoped it would be, but I'll work on that. Please leave me a review, 'cause I love them!!
Tah, tah