Ya, ya, I don't own anything. I have to say that now because I'm using stuff from Eragon.
Abiathar strolled mindlessly through the woods, glad of Ahinoam's company. They walked into a clearing and Ahinoam sat down. Abiathar waited a moment, then smiled slyly as he heard the betraying sound of a twig snap. He whirled around and forced his saber up to block the axe blade. He, Ziba, Abiel, and Makir were playing a game they entitled "Hunter." The game was played with a minimum of three players and maximum of seven. The players would divide, one player would go alone and the remaining players would join up and hunt the single player. Once they had found him, they would ambush him and try to defeat him. However, if the lone player fought his way out, the game would continue as he would try to flee. It ended when the group found and defeated the single player.
At this point in their game, Abiathar was the single player and Makir and Ziba were the hunters. While fighting Ziba, Abiathar was acutely aware of other sounds surrounding the clearing. A branch creaked above his head, and he dodge rolled to the left as Makir crashed to the ground. Ahinoam gasped, proud of Abiathar's technique. The two hunter's backed him into a corner, but he slipped in between the trees and ran down to the river. With a flying leap, he jumped onto a boulder that was positioned roughly a third of the way from bank to bank. He could hear Ahinoam faintly laughing over the deep, rushing water, and he smiled again. Leaping again, he made it to an outcropping of rock that jutted into the water. He smiled smugly at the two on the other bank. Ziba had no way of leaping across as Abiathar did, what with his heavy axe, and Makir was so light that he would have been washed away if he would happen to fall in. Wading was out of the question, for the river was deep and fast.
"Cheater!" Ziba laughed. Abiathar had used this technique many times before.
However, both parties had temporarily forgotten something. As Abiathar turned to leave, an arrow whizzed past his right side, ripping through the billowing shirt. Abiathar ducked behind a tree and covered his head in his hands. Makir and Ziba burst out laughing as Abiel rained arrow after arrow, relentlessly firing upon Abiathar.
"I give, I give!" Abiathar said finally. The barrage of arrows stopped. Abiathar leaped back across the river.
"Okay, it's your turn Ziba," Abiathar said.
"Alright. Head back to the clearing so I can start."
The other three went back to the clearing. As they waited until the appointed time to begin their hunt, Makir scouted out the trees and selected a particularly sturdy one and swung himself up into it. Abiel set to work putting the arrows that Abiathar had retrieved from the opposite river bank back into his quiver. Abiathar sat with Ahinoam, sharpening his scimitar on a wheat stone.
"It's time," said Makir presently. He went off, deftly swinging through the trees. Abiel nodded toward the bridge and stalked forward, silently disappearing into the brush. Abiathar got up to head for the river. Ahinoam stopped him.
"Be careful," she said.
"You know I will. I've jumped the river hundreds of times."
"I know," she replied. "But I just want you to be sure. I'll be here when you get back." She kissed his cheek, then watched as he went to make the first leap to the boulder. Stop worrying, she chided herself. He's made that jump a hundred times, let him be.
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I can't shake this feeling, Abiathar said as he ran for his first leap. I've done it before, stop it, he told himself. As he landed on the boulder, he crouched for the next jump. As he released, his cry of alarm was cut short as his foot slipped off the side and he plunged headlong into the icy river. His head bobbed to the surface, and he panicked at how fast the bank was rushing by. The waters, despite the fact that it was mid spring, were frigid, and his teeth chattered. He tried to swim toward the shore, but the sub-zero temperature of the water slowed his limbs and he couldn't, so he resorted to fighting to keep his head from submerging. Eventually, he started to black out from the cold. Stay awake! He commanded his mind. He slapped his own face in an attempt to keep his eyes open, but he could feel his consciousness slowly ebbing. Finally, his feet hit a shallow in the river, and he locked into place. This was considerably difficult because the water was raging all around him, but he held his ground and walked the shallow out over to the bank. He dragged himself onto shore, collapsing under his own weight. He laid there, exhausted, for along time.
Finally, when the warmth had restored his limbs enough to move, Abiathar walked painfully around, searching for any way back. Darkness had fallen by the time he had gotten little more than halfway back.
"Great," he muttered to himself. "If I don't die, Ahinoam is gonna kill me." He wandered around for a little longer, looking for a cave or something to sleep in. Then finally, he gave up and just found a boulder to sleep behind.
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As Abiathar drowsily woke up, it took him a minute to get his bearings. When his head finally cleared, he continued on his trek toward home. Presently he came upon some odd tracks.
Hello, what have we here? He thought to himself. His curiosity ignited, he followed the strange footprints to a grand tower of rock. Oh well, he thought. As he turned to leave, the ground shuddered violently. Abiathar fell back and landed on his right elbow, injuring it. That's all I need right now, he though angrily. But his anger was quickly replaced with fear as he saw what had made the minor earthquake. Slowly at first, then after it saw Abiathar, much faster, a silvery gray dragon emerged from the woods. It curiously sniffed at Abiathar. The dragon wasn't very big at all, maybe the same height at the shoulder with a young foal, but all the same, it was intimidating. Abiathar was locked in place with fear as it circle him, then settled itself in front of him. Abiathar slowly reached a hand out to touch it. It did not recoil from his hand. As his fingers brushed the scaly hard side of its neck, a shock seared through his arm, making it burn. The sensation quickly spread throughout the rest of his body and warmed his chilled frame. The feeling was a relief after the cold night, but after a few minutes became almost unbearable. He stared at the dragon with wide-eyed fear, wondering what it had done to him. It took almost an hour for the feeling to subside enough to be able to move. He cringed as the dragon nuzzled him, waiting for the phenomena to return, but it didn't. He gasped suddenly as he palm erupted with pain. He glanced down at his left hand and was shocked. He now understood what had happened.
According to the legend of the Riders, if a human or elf finds the dragon it was destined to be linked with, the egg of that dragon would hatch and they would become linked mentally. Some said spiritually, too. It seemed he had similarly linked with this dragon, though it was wild and had not hatched for him in particular. At any rate, a mark on the palm was a sign of this link, and it allowed the Rider to use magic more easily with that hand. However, he had always heard from the storytellers that the mark, it had a name that he couldn't recall at the moment, was supposed to be shimmering silver. His was light blue, slightly darker than the sky, and it did not shimmer at all. Confused, he glanced up at the beast before him.
No, not a beast, he scolded himself. Old lore says that they are of equal intelligence with humans, and can even speak our language. He tried to contact the dragon with his mind, but didn't know how. The dragon could see him struggling, and it made a deep rumbling sound in the back of its throat. Abiathar's fear returned, until the dragon made the mind contact with him. It felt like a thousand little fingers drifting slowly over his brain, calming him, relaxing his body until his arm hurt no more.
I see you struggle, the dragon said in his mind. Suddenly, Abiathar felt as if he were floating, and he realized the dragon was opening his mind for him. He could feel its presence, and cautiously spoke through his mind, What is your name?
The dragon's lips slowly curled into a smile. That is for you to decide.
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I finally got the Rider tie in going. Please give me feedback.