Hello again peoples. Thank you for your support, and everything; sorry about not uploading in a while. This story will revolve around 4 central main characters all of which are my OC's. First real chapter so let's get started.

The Deserter

Darius rolled over in his small tattered wool blanket. He blinked to clear his vision from last nights restless sleep. He looked over to ensure that his dark brown horse was still tied to the small tree in the small clearing where they had made camp last night. After assuring himself that all was well Darius stood up, and ran his hands through his short blonde hair. "What to do now...?" He asked talking out loud though no one was around to hear. The young man, not even 23 summers old, dragged himself over to a small brook that ran off of a large river a few yards away from his camp. Darius' wiry frame hurt from almost a week of hard riding. He cupped a handful of the icy water, and splashed it on his face. He shivered as the frigid liquid turned his white skin even paler. He washed as much of his exposed skin as he could without having to remove any clothing due to the chilling cold.

Darius stared at his reflection for a while afterward; just thinking. His eyes drifted over his torn uniform. The thin gold-thread etched flame was still visible on his tunic despite his best efforts to hide it without trashing the shirt. For it was the only clothes that he had with him. He grimaced at the sight of it... It had been almost an entire year since he had fled the servitude of Galbatorix's army. After watching the elves storm the battlements at Gil'ead; the soldier had lost heart, and fled with a small band of others. They had all been captured, turned back, or went their separate way by now. It had been a shameful thing to do, but Darius was convinced if he hadn't he would be dead in the capital like thousands of others. He had no place to go so he had spent the large part of his time evading both sides of the war. "What's left of the Empire would surely hang me, and any Varden would cut me down once they saw my uniform." He took note of how thin he had gotten over the course of his wanderings, and short skirmishes with bandits and even a couple of town guards. "Next town over I'm going to have to stop, and get some food." Darius thought.

He meandered back to his steed. The horse whinnied when it saw him coming. Even over the past week of riding the stolen horse had still not gotten used to Darius' presence. He patted it on the side to calm it's nerves. He removed a wedge of cheese, and some bread from one of the saddle bags. Crouching by his fire he ate his meager meal, and planned his next move. He reached down into the pockets of his trousers to pull out a poorly kept map. Darius conjured up what he had down over the past couple weeks that might give him any idea where he was. It took him a while, but he realized the lake he had passed earlier on had been Isenstar and the river was the Ninor River. That left two towns aside from Gil'ead within a rough days ride; Daret and Yazuac. Now, as almost everyone in the lower echelons of the old Empire knows Yazuac has been abandoned every since that Urgal attack. The town was even rumored to be haunted with the spirits who had been slaughtered there; of course such talk was pure fantasy but for some reason all who ventured near the ghost town never returned. And of course you cannot buy supplies in a burned out husk of a village. "So, Daret it is." Darius muttered aloud to the skittish mare.

Outskirts of Daret

Sunset

Darius had already set up his dwindling supplies in a small ring that made up his camp. Tomorrow he was going to enter the town to do some trading; the stench of fish drifted over from the docks. Some fishermen scurried about their small boats unloading the last catch of the day; the market was totally dark except the small butcher shops that continually chopped fish even throughout the night. He cringed his nose at the foul odor, and began preparing for the long night. Darius bustled about: tying about the horse, stocking up firewood, and eating a small meal. Wanting to be asleep for the coldest parts of the night. The young man slid into his wool blanket; having no idea that what would happen within the next few hours would change the face of Alagaësia forever.

Midnight

Darius jolted awake, and looked around nervously. He had no idea why he had awoken so abruptly, but something seemed very, very off. The skinny male yanked off his black blanket, and pulled out a chipped short sword. The blade was just a standard infantry sword, that had fallen into disrepair after a few weeks without a proper cleaning. As his eyes darted about nothing seemed wrong... All his supplies were fine. Nothing was near the camp. The town was totally black. The mare was still tied to the-. "The town is totally dark." The thought jumped to the front of his mind. "Those shops should still be running." Darius started to panic; he started to stuff his things into his saddle bags. He then smacked his foot into a cooking pot that he would've been able to see... "The moon." He said aloud looking up at the sky. Ever single light in the sky was gone; an omnipresent blackness hovered over the world. He gulped and silently cursed, "What the hell is going on?" Darius thought again out loud.

Thud. Thud. Thud. A noise seemed to be coming through the black.. A noise that seemed to ring with death. Thud. Thud. The dull airy thud seemed to be coming from the east; up high. Darius stood in his clearing in complete shock. Thud. Thud. Crash! A massive figure smashed into the ground not 20 feet from the frightened boy. Its bat-like wings spread out, and somehow glittered a dark oily color in the pitch darkness. The creatures scales glinted without a light source as it approached Darius. The dragon's soft nose reached out, and pushed against his chest almost gently. He resisted the urge to scream as the black beast sniffed his clothing. It seemed to nod before an all oppressing thunder-cloud of thought smacked into Darius' mind. His thoughts were quickly muddled as he could put up no defense, and he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness.

"We are destined for great and terrible things, Darius of Gil'ead. We will either save them, or starve them. Either way eventually; All will kneel before the Four. "