Author's note
Just to clarify things a bit, this takes place a long, long, LONG time after Eragon. He's not in Alagaesia anymore, like Angela said. And another thing. Magical creatures age slower than regular humans do. Do you know who the man is now?
A cold wind shrieked through the small room as the white stone continued to crack. The tall man's cat-like eyes slanted and gazed cautiously at the painted window and at Ziahra. Finally, with one great snap, the stone shattered.
In its place, was a lizard-like creature in Ziahra's eyes. The animal was solid white, from head to tail. Two wings, which seemed way to big for a creature of that size, folded out from its body. Two razor sharp fangs, like a wolf's, protruded from its upper jaw. Two smaller teeth jutted out from the lower one. The animal seemed vaguely familiar to Ziahra. Then, he turned to face the window.
The giant blue animal in the picture looked strikingly similar to the lizard thing in front of him.
The lizard squeaked, and gained Ziahra's attention. "Go on," the man said, nodding his head towards the animal. "Touch it."
Ziahra reached down a trembling hand, and placed his palm down on the beast's head.
Instantly, a blast of pain erupted through his arm, and into his body. He shivered with cold, and again collapsed. He felt as if he had lain there for hours. Then just as suddenly as it started, it stopped.
When Ziahra opened his eyes, the animal was nestled against him, spreading warmth through his veins.
"Peculiar…" the man whispered. "I thought that the dragons left with Eragon and the elves. Apparently not all of them."
At this, the 13 year old's eyes grew wide. The animal before him, and the picture, were dragons. He looked down to study the dragon more closely. A larger than life for a creature that small dip was directly between its shoulders. It had a muscular, sleek body; free from any spikes or rivets. The dragon's tail was long and thin, and was coiling around Ziahra's body, as if hugging him. On the beast's head, about an inch above the eyes, were two small horns. Cool air slowly blew out from their hollow interiors, like an icy volcano. In front of the horns, were two long whiskers, but seemingly made from the same materials as the scales on its body. Two small lumps were positioned on opposite sides of the head, which presumably served as ears. The dragon had huge feet, with long retractable claws. The front legs were short and slender, but still used to occasionally walk around on, while the back legs were thick and powerful. The dragon hopped around then crawled, hopped then crawled, as Ziahra and the man observed.
"Excuse me," Ziahra said after a while. "Did you say that this was a dragon?"
The man's eyes gleamed. "Yes. And coincidentally, your name is the Ancient Language word for 'ice'." A cold wind again blew through the room. "It seems that once again, the riders have returned."
Ziahra had heard stories of how the riders and their dragons were once the most powerful beings in Alagaesia. They overthrew the evil king after his terrible rein, stopped the Elvish-Dragon Wars, and then left over the ocean.
"I remember the last boy who started a new generation of riders. In fact, I was at his wedding." The man looked over at the window again. A tear sailed down his cheek. "I miss him terribly, and the others that left with him… Ah, but now I have a bigger problem to crack, how to train the new rider."
"M-m-me? A rider?" Ziahra stammered. Again the man gave a mischievous smile. "But how can I be a rider? I'm only 13! A mere peasant boy! What do you expect me to do?"
"Only to trust me." The man walked towards the boy, but Ziahra stepped back. "How can I trust you, if I don't even know your name?"
The man sighed. "I have many names… but you can call me-"
But he was cut off by the neglected dragon's sharp squeal. The dragon jumped into Ziahra's arms as the roof was torn off of the building with a thunderous roar.
Author's Note
Did you like this one? REVIEW! Yall still have to guess who the man is. And who is in the picture. REVIEW!
