Story 1: The First Adventure

Chapter 2: A Long way from Home

Eragon reached the trail the next day as planned, this was when his week would begin. The trail led up the right side of Igualda Falls so that Eragon could find footprints near the section of the Anora River that was located near the spine. This was the only water source for animals in the area, so they all came here eventually.

After an hour, he finally reached the top of the trail and gazed down at Carvahall. The people looked like ants, be he looked away and began scanning the riverside. He found a set of prints about half a mile down the river. He crouched down to look. They were the prints of a small doe, but they were not deep and had begun to fade. He stood.

These couldn't be any less then a week old, I can't follow these. Eragon thought.

He kept scanning, and found the combined prints of a small group of deer. They were fresh, no more then a day old.

Aha! That's what I was looking for... Eragon thought as a grin spread across his face. Roran... you're going to be looking on me in envy.

Eragon looked to the right and followed the prints into the trees. He proceeded as fast as possible, he needed to catch up with those deer. They followed a sort of random trail to grassy areas and to small fresh water springs throughout the forest. After a few hours, the sun was grazing the horizon and falling low into the sky. He had to make camp soon.

He found a small clearing along the trail and set up his tent. He then quickly gathered firewood and lit it within the tent. He had to be careful not to light the tent itself on fire. Nights in the spine were very cold, and he would need the heat to survive the night. Rolling out his blankets a small distance from the fire, Eragon laid down and fell to sleep. His dreams were plagued by visions of fire, deep blue fire and scenes of destruction. He held himself tighter as his uncertain sleep preceded throughout the night.

Eragon's eyes snapped open, light was shining through the thin insulating fibers that made up his tent, and his fire had burned out. The smoke had dissipated after floating through the small hole at the top (which was for smoke release). Taking the firewood and throwing it outside, he packed up the tent and moved back to the prints of the deer. He found the trail and kept following it deeper and deeper into the forest.

The day was uneventful except for the infrequent spotting of a moose or other animal that was far to big for him to take on. Or to small to be of use. The cold was beginning to get worse, and through the holes in the branches he could spot several scattered clouds. He could sense a great snowstorm coming, but he knew he could get back by the time it came. Eragon picked up his pace, he would need to kill the deer before the storm came.

Several hours later, night was falling and darkness was beginning to overtake the forest. He quickly set up camp. When he tried to start a fire, he could not. The wood was frosted and his tinderbox would not produce enough sparks to light the dismally wet wood. He did not have enough time to find further firewood and wrapped himself in his blankets.

Throughout the night, Eragon was freezing cold, shivering uncontrollably until he fell into yet another uncertain sleep. This time, he dreamed of a mountains against a bleak desert before him. They were terribly tall, perhaps 10 times the size of the Spine. This amused Eragon, and made sleeping through yet another freezing night bearable.

In the morning, he left the tent quickly. He was drawing close to his target as the prints he found were fresh, the deer could be no more then half-hours walk ahead of him. He knew that he would be able to find the deer by nightfall and quickened his pace. The excitement of the hunt gripped him and he was suddenly immune to the cold around him.

Ten hours later, night was nearing it's entrance. The deer was close, very close. Eragon broke into a sprint. He needed the deer before night fell. It took him a minute, but he reached a small clearing where he saw four deer grazing. There was a quite old one, he was big, but he appeared slow. He took his bow out from over his back and strung his bow. He then nocked an arrow and drew back the string. Quiet overtook the clearing while Eragon's heart beat in his ears. He lined up his shot, aiming to hit the buck through it's heart. Just as he was releasing the tension on his string, the buck moved out of the way. The arrow left Eragon's bow and hit a tree behind it.

The group of deer broke into a run away from the hunter. Muttering a curse, Eragon broke cover and ran out from under the trees. He only had two arrows left. He quickly nocked another arrow and took aim. This time, he aimed to hit the buck in his front right leg. He released the tension and the arrow flew from his bow. His arrow struck in the right place, and the buck tumbled onto the ground. Eragon ran for his target and stood over the buck, nocking his last arrow. He looked down about to take aim at the bucks heart. He looked into his prisoners eyes.

What he saw would scar him for life. He saw a certain wisdom in this buck, a sort of human quality that infested it's eyes. They looked even wiser then Eragon's own. Tears broke from his eyes as he wished that he did not have to do what he needed to do. But, forcing his eyes to stay open, he aimed his bow towards the bucks heart, and closing his eyes, he pulled back the arrow, and then released it. There was a hiss, and then a slight squishing sound as Eragon heard the arrow hit his target.

Eragon fell to his knees as tears flooded his eyes and clouded his vision. He stayed there and cried for what he had done, letting the sorrow of killing this beautiful creature overtake him. It was the first time he had ever been forced to look into the eyes of one of the creatures he was forced to kill, and he knew inside of himself he would never look into their eyes again. He knew he would be forced to kill beasts again, not just for himself, but for his family. But from now on, he would have a certain respect for the creatures he killed. The gods creatures.

Several minutes later, the tears abated and he looked up into the darkening sky, his last tear dripping from his reddened face, and realized that such a long way from home. His gaze fell, and he began the work of preparing the animal to be carried back home. He pulled out a knife, and skinned the animal he had killed. He then cut off pieces, all that he could carry in his pack to be exact, and salted them to preserve them on his trip home.

A half-hour later, his work was finished and he left what was left of his kill behind, his last tear shed.

There is a second chapter for you, I hope you found it sufficiently full of action, and sufficiently full of emotional moment. Remember to read and review!