Prologue
Thunder was in the sky. Black clouds were above as rain was pouring downwards. Fateful wind was causing chaos in the deep sea, which was several fathoms deep. Lightning shot out from the foreboding clouds, striking an elegant ship and casting it on fire, which was cast out by the powerful rain and another force, magic.
Several ships were braving the torrential waters of the sea. Fighting against mother nature. A whole fleet of ships, bearing the flag of a white dragon. The white ships were like pillars in the darkness. With one, larger ship at the front.
Above the large ship was a large white dragon, and a top the dragon was an elf. The first elf who ever rode a dragon. His silver hair blowing in the wind, and the wind posing no problems for the elegant king of the sky. His clothes tattered, his armor looked into the distance looking for land.
He, with five thousand elves, were leaving a land tortured by war, to prevent another war. He was leaving a land which he had been in for thousands of years, to return to where his bond with the partner of his life had begun.
He had been fighting a war with radicals. Disillusioned people. The radicals, under a flag with a moon, believed that they needed to purify the world. While he was an elf, he did not harbor the same belief, as did several other elves.
For a hundred years he had been fighting a war with these radicals. For a hundred years elven brothers were killing elven brothers once more, after almost a thousand years of peace when he had returned from the land which he was going to once more.
He and his mate had introduced dragons to the land of Alalaea, and his finest weapon had been turned against him. He was opposed by more of his own kin than that which supported him. He was leaving a land with all the dragon riders who supported his cause, numbering only two, his mate and him, and their dragons.
He was Eragon, the friend of the dragons. And he was with Bid'daum, his partner of his life, a large white dragon. On the ship below lay his mate with her dragon, and behind them five thousand elves of those against the radical elves whom opposed them in Alalaea.
Eragon then replayed what he had heard in his mind when he had spied on the leaders of the radical elves in Alalaea.
"Eragon has always spoke of a land in which dragons lived in, and that is how we became dragon riders." One man said.
"Indeed. He called the distant land Alagaesia. Thousands of our kin went there after the first war. Only he returned with his mate to bring the peace which we had until this war began." A second man replied.
"Then that means there are humans and other creatures there." The first man spat.
"Yes."
"Then we must purify them. And perhaps we can persuade the elves there to join our cause."
Eragon then stopped replaying the memory. The moment he had heard that, he mustered as many elves sympathetic to his beliefs of a world in which everyone was equal, and that everyone's ways should be defended, and then sailed offwards to Alagaesia as fast as she could, abandoning the war in Alalaea to his second in command. He could not let his enemies get to Alagaesia first. His brothers in Alagaesia were in trouble if he could not get there in time.
...
Just a sneak peek of the prologue to "Breoal: Brothers".
