An Introduction to Eragon

Tired. Sweaty. Hot. Tired. Sweaty. Hot. The same thoughts buzzed around in my head as I panted after Arya. It had only been about four hours, assuming my watch was still accurate, but I was whipped. The elf, on the other hand, seemed like she could go on forever. We had gone about twenty miles and she wasn't even sweating. Maybe elves don't sweat, I thought.

Our travel had been largely uneventful. My jacket was tied around my waist and my iPhone was in my hand. The EnerPlex case charged the phone as long as I left the solar panel uncovered, and I was pleased at how fast it worked. I had modified it myself, of course, adding a panel of my own design. Now I was reaping my reward. I had considered playing some music to break the monotony, but being unsure how Arya would react, I decided against it.

"Stop!" Arya whispered urgently. I was grateful for the excuse, and slowed to a walk. Arya pointed farther up the dirt road we'd been traveling on, and I saw several large men herding a small group of oxen on the side of the road. I looked quickly at Arya.

"What do we do?" I asked, sliding my iPhone into my pocket and grasping my pepper spray bottle. My other hand reached for the Taser-stick (I called it the t-rod), which I had tucked into the waistband of my jeans. Arya didn't reply, but reached up to her ear and murmured something I couldn't hear. Suddenly, the pointed tip of her ear smoothed until it was rounded like a human's. She then repeated the process on the other ear, and then did the same to her eyes, making them round, rather than the cat-like slant they normally had. I gaped at her.

"How did you do that?" I asked in disbelief.

"Magic," she said, looking at me oddly. "How else?"

"You can do magic?" I gasped. No way! This was too cool! My exhaustion forgotten, I barraged her with questions. "How do you do it? Can only elves do it? How could I-"

"Quiet!" she gestured at the ox herders, who were only a couple hundred feet away. "I suppose I can give you a brief explanation, but later!"

I nodded, though I was bursting with excitement. I had heard so much talk from everyone about magic, but I had not really believed it was real until now. I contained my questions and adopted a serious expression for the benefit of the ox herders, who were very close.

As we passed, the three large men looked up from their charges to survey Arya and me. I thought we were in the clear, but then one of them said loudly,

"Well, what have we here? A woman who dresses in trousers? Not something you see everyday, nor is it something you should." The two other men looked up and looked more closely at Arya and me. They nodded agreement.

The man who had spoken took a step forward. Arya tensed, and I could tell she was ready for a fight.

"Dressing like that is asking for trouble, missy. And we would-"

"Hate to see her in distress, wouldn't you?" I interrupted loudly. The man glared at me.

"Watch your mouth, sonny." Sonny? What was I, ten? I took a step toward him, and covertly slid the t-stick from my pants.

"Looks like you need a lesson, boy!" the man growled. I could smell some sort of alcohol on his breath, and knew at once a fight was unavoidable.

He swung at me, but I was too fast. I ducked under his arm and rapped him smartly on the forehead with the rod. He made a horrible gagging sound and collapsed on the ground. I felt a twinge of sympathy, knowing what that stick felt like, but then his two mates started towards me, looking outraged, but-

"Slytha!" cried Arya, her hand outstretched to the men. The air seemed to vibrate around us, before the men gave small sighs and collapsed on the ground, fast asleep.

I looked at Arya. "Magic?" She nodded. So it was words that controlled it. And "slytha" either meant "sleep" or "pass out." I made a mental note to question Arya more when we stopped for the night, which I judged to be another four or five hours away. I hoped the mens' oxen wouldn't wander too far.

It took a long time for us to reach Eastcroft, where Arya said she could hear Eragon through the ground. She knelt down and pressed one of her ears against the hard earth and listened for a few minutes. Then she promptly stood and proclaimed Eragon was near. I wasn't quite sure what she how she had figured it out, but after seeing her knock out three guys just by talking, I was less than eager to ask what she meant.

When we came to Eastcroft, the sun was almost down. Arya said that Eragon was very close, so I suggested that we meet him inside the village. She considered for a moment, then agreed.

"Eragon would meet us outside the village," she explained, "but chances are he's with other travelers and it would look strange indeed if he refused to enter the village."

We came to the entrance to Eastcroft. Arya and I walked through a large hole in the wall, where enormous doors stood ready to close once the sun came down. We had taken only a few steps down the dirt road that lead to what looked to be a town square when Arya placed a hand on my chest and pointed to a watchman with a lantern, who was approaching from a narrow alleyway.

"Stay here and answer any questions he has," she whispered urgently.

"Where are you going?" I asked nervously, one eye on the sentinel, the other on her hand.

"I'm going to find a dress, like those that your women wear," she said, a hint of distaste flashing in her eyes. "It will take naught but a few minutes."

"I'll hold you to that," I muttered as she bounded off into the gathering darkness. I leaned against the wall of a building and waited, expecting the watchman to approach.

Another couple of minutes trickled by. When the watchman stepped out onto the street, he saw me immediately. Placing a hand on the pommel of a sword sheathed at his belt, he called, "You there! You've not been to Eastcroft before! What be your name and business here?"

William! Arya's voice sounded suddenly in my head. Tell him you're visiting family, and will be here only a night or two. I'm on my way back now. I felt her mind recede from mine, and I turned my attention back to the guard, who was eyeing me suspiciously.

"I'm, um, visiting my family," I stammered nervously, glancing at his sword, calculating the time it would take me to draw my weapons. "I'll, uh, only be here a few year-er-days."

He glared at me. "And how do I know that you're telling the truth?"

"Because I'm his sister," said Arya, appearing at my side. She was now wearing a dark green dress, which I couldn't help but notice fitted her perfectly. In her arms was a mass of dark fabric. "He'll be here a few nights."

Her confidence seemed enough to reassure him. "Alright," he muttered gruffly. "But I'll have you know we tolerate neither thievery nor lechery in-"

"Yes, we know the law in these parts, thank you," said Arya quickly, and practically dragged me away. Once we had put several houses between us and the watchman, she turned to me and shoved a bundle into my arms. I held it up and it unrolled to reveal a long black cloak with a hood. I looked at it and saw it contained several large pockets, perfect for carrying my weapons and anything else.

"Thanks," I said happily to Arya, knotting the cloak around my neck. I felt like I had just walked out of Assassin's Creed. "It fits perfectly!"

"Just another advantage of magic," she smiled, donning her own cloak. I grinned back, delighted to find that all my stuff sat perfectly in the cloak's inside pockets, where I could pull out anything without it being seen.

I followed Arya into a small two-story building. I could tell at once it was a tavern. Men and women were shouting, laughing, and drinking, while minstrels sang in the background. Arya pulled a small bag out and from within it, a coin purse appeared.

"Get a table," she said to me. "I'll rent a room."

I sat down at a rickety old table pushed against the wall. After another minute, Arya slid into the booth opposite me, her hood pulled over her head. She pushed a small tankard into my hands and said, "I don't know how long we must wait for Eragon, and you look tired enough to fall asleep here and now."

I nodded gratefully and took a sip, discovering that it was some sort of mead. Arya looked fit and refreshed, as though she hadn't spent the day sprinting all over Alagaësia. I offered her some of the brew but she shook her head and continued to glance around the room.

"Eragon won't know you are even if he sees you," I pointed out, and leaned across the table to pull down her hood. Lightning fast, her hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. Her round eyes narrowed and she looked at me coldly. Then she released my arm and pulled her hood down herself.

Slightly shaken, I put both my hands around my tankard and and focused on my drink. I had forgotten that I was among warriors, people fought and died for causes they couldn't understand. Arya was no human, not by a long shot. She was far better for this sort of thing. If not for my brains, I would probably have gotten myself killed when I first arrived here.

"Why did Nasuada send me with you?" I asked despairingly. "I'm not a fighter. I'm useful to the Varden when I'm with the Varden."

She looked at me and raised her eyebrows. "I thought it was obvious why she sent you away. She's attracted to you, and worried that you will distract her from her duties."

"What?" I blinked. "But...but…"

"Think about it," Arya said. "You're tall, muscular, well spoken, and the day you arrive you make a new weapon that Fredric loves like a firstborn son. Add this to your smile and charming demeanor, and I'm sure I'd feel for you if I was a human."

Her explanation stunned me. I'd feel for you if I was a human. But she wasn't a human, and clearly she didn't "feel for me." Still, the implications of what she said were unsettling. If it was true, it meant I had a high position in the Varden, assuming I took advantage of Nasuada's feelings, something I was hesitant to to. Bloody politics. You couldn't escape them even on a different planet.

Suddenly Arya stiffened. "Eragon," she murmured. I looked up as a man approached our table. Eragon.

Up close, the person I'd heard so much about, who was spoken of with such reverence, was just a teenager. A tall, confident, strong, good-looking teenager, but still a teenager nonetheless.

Keeping his gaze fixed upon the crowd, Eragon slipped behind the table and sat next to Arya. "What are you doing here?" he asked, barely moving his lips.

"Searching for you."

Surprised, he glanced at her, and she raised a curved eyebrow. He looked back at the throng of people and, pretending to smile, asked, "Are you alone?"

"No," muttered Arya. "Nasuada saw fit to provide me an escort."

Eragon looked around and saw me for the first time. "Who are you?" he asked, looking puzzled.
"William Wyatt," I muttered back. "So you're Eragon?"

"Yes."

"And Saphira is your dragon?"

"We are bonded. It is wrong to speak as though I own her."

"But...you ride her? I saw she had a saddle."

"Yes," he said, and shot an irritated look at Arya, as if to say, you brought along the fan club? It annoyed me; I was only gathering information. I had been hoping to ask more about magic, but after seeing his reaction to a few questions about dragons, I decided that it would be pointless to, in his mind, irritate him further.

"Did you rent a bed for the night?" asked Arya.

"No."

"Good. I already have a room." She stood and looked down at me. "Finish your drink." The message was clear: the grown-ups need to talk. She put a few more coins on the table and said, "Buy yourself some dinner."

They disappeared up a set on stairs in the corner of the room, and I let out a sigh and took another gulp of mead. I needed some time to think.

I was no murderer, but the Varden was clearly fighting to the death with the Empire. I had happily given them a weapon with four times its former killing power without batting an eyelid. Was I still no murderer? I felt like Wernher von Braun, who, when the first V-2 rocket hit London, remarked to his colleagues, "The rocket worked perfectly except for landing on the wrong planet."

That damn green light, I thought, put me on the wrong planet.

When I quietly entered into the room ten minutes later, my stomach happily digesting the meat pie I'd bought, I saw Eragon on the floor and Arya lying on the bed, both of them asleep. They clearly had a strong bond, one that I was jealous of. Well, I thought, I'm here to stay, so I may as well get used to things. I lay on the floor a long time before I finally fell asleep.