AN: *Poof*

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The Swarm's Host

By the time Eragon had woken up, the teen had found himself in a bed. He was startled, struggling in place as he looked around. Drawing from memory, he recognized the room as a guest place in Horst's home. He had stayed here before, but several details began to stick out.

For one, the sheets were drenched with sweat and some stench had attached to him that had been akin to something like rotten eggs. Roran and Garrow were sitting in chairs, both sleeping in their seats as though they had been watching him through the night. Roran looked as though he was shivering; no blanket had covered Eragon's half-brother. Guilty, Eragon shuffled out of bed and tried pulled off one of the sheets. The noise was just enough to wake up both Eragon's elders.

"Eragon! You're ok!" Roran shouted as he stood up. Eragon couldn't stop Roran from giving him a bear hug. Garrow had to pull the two away from each other.

"Calm down Roran," Garrow spoke calmly, "He's still tired . . . and he needs more rest"

Eragon sighed as he was pushed back into bed. For some reason, he just couldn't remember what happened that gave his family such a shock. Suddenly, images and feelings of his previous dazed state poured in and he began feeling wheezy. Roran leaned to help, but was pulled back by Garrow. Eragon gulped in his stomach's contents with a nervousness he didn't think he could feel.

"What- what happened . . ."

Garrow rose an eyebrow, "We were going to ask you that ourselves. We found you outside the town and nearly freezing."

For just a second, Eragon swore he saw something else in his uncle's eyes. It was there that he began to remember the stone he had held onto.

"The stone, where is it!" Eragon looked around frantically, even peering under the bed to see if they had been hiding it from him. No such luck came to him as they began to speak.

"We found you-" Garrow paused as he looked at Roran, "We found you and the stone was gone . . ."

He couldn't speak; Eragon was frozen stiff as he felt a rising anger towards anything he could think of. Gritting his teeth, he began to curse at everything that he felt had wronged him ranging from Sloan, to Merlock, to the merchants in the bar, to a whole slew of things. They must have done something, yes, with one or two of them attacking him and stealing the egg. Eragon was sure of it and just as he was about to leap out of bed to just look for each and every one of his aggressors, Garrow put a hand on his shoulder.

"Eragon," he spoke softly and Eragon stopped for a second, "We're just glad you're alright . . ."

More guilt had entered him. As Eragon looked at his only family and saw faces of relief. Now he just felt silly, getting angry at something meaningless. Here they were worrying about him and all he was doing was fussing about an egg.

Eragon nodded as he lay fully back onto the bed, "I'm sorry Uncle . . . I think I need some rest."

Satisfied, Garrow nodded as he pulled Roran away and down the stairs. Once the door closed, Eragon closed his eyes. The teen thought of yesterday and wondered why the egg had been stolen and who might have done such an act. The scene from the bar played out in his head as he tried again and again to see who might have attacked him. No one had known about the egg other than him and his uncle. Sloan had some knowledge, but he wouldn't touch him for fear of the Spire.

The merchants wouldn't attack him for no reason, they were also telling their story and weren't going to finish for a while. Merlock might have done something and as Eragon thought more and more of what had occurred, it began to make more sense. Perhaps he would have to see the man and give the greedy bastard a taste of his own medicine.

But there was something else that he hadn't caught, something that suddenly came to him and stopped cold in the water. Eragon hadn't been thinking about it when he was speaking to himself, as it seemed natural to him, but going over the words in his head gave him a startling revelation. Every time he had referred to the stone, he had called it a stone, an artifact, something not alive.

Why was he now thinking of the stone as an egg . . .

tErRaN

Chapter 4: Prelude to a Monster

The utter eeriness of the voice urged Eragon to turn towards the voice, but as he looked behind himself, there was nothing but the wall. Panic began to surge into him and Eragon wished to call out to anyone present.

However, just as he turned forward, a creature's face greeted him. It was upside down, but that wasn't much of a point compared to how it looked, forcing Eragon back in surprise. When it pounced down from the ceiling, the creature landed on his bed, drool and growling through it teeth filled mouth. Eragon couldn't tell what this thing was: lizard, cat, fish, or insect distinctions seemed to fall through.

The skin, for example, glistened like the naked flesh of any creature with no furs or feathers covering it. The coloration, gray and pale, was unnaturally plastered onto it. He swore that the skin was sometimes see through and he even saw bits and pieces of bone and organs showing in several parts of thinner layers of skin.

Its face was just as confusing. It seemed a mix between a lizard and a fish's maw, with its jaw larger than its upper lip. However, the teeth did not jut out messily; each tooth seemed to fit perfectly in its mouth and the parts that did show were sharpened and kept neatly in a row. When Eragon tried to look for its eyes, he realized that it didn't have eyes. What creature had no eyes!?

Its arms were long and powerful as its sharp talon-like fingers dug into the bed. The red sinew of muscles seemed to peer through its thin skin on occasion, sometimes pulsating with a sick crimson glow. There were no legs, only a tail swishing back and forth as it crawled forward.

It was hard not to shout or to scream; his voice seemed to get caught in his throat as the creature glared at him with its eye-less gaze. But just then, Eragon pulled back and looked at the thing further. He had been frightened by the initial look, as one should have been and he would have been absolutely frozen in fear . . .

If it was bigger than his arm

Size-wise, the monster was quite small; Eragon swore he could simply crush the thing with his foot and break half its bones. Truth be told, it looked as though it had been a small hatchling of sorts, trying to assert its dominance with something far larger than it could handle. Eragon nearly smacked the thing off his bed when it leapt off by its own volition.

Suddenly, the doors opened and in came Horst and Elain, his wife, by his side. The tray filled with freshly made breakfast stunned him.

"Heard you were awake!" Horst said with a smirk. Elain set the breakfast tray in Eragon's lap and he nearly forgot the creature that had now snuck under the bed. That was, until, it gave a little squeak.

"What was that?"

Eragon opened his mouth to talk, but he didn't speak. Of course, words did come out of his mouth . . . surprisingly.

notHiNg

"Nothing . . ."

The blacksmith blinked a few times before looking at his wife. She was just as confused as well, but she shrugged. Eragon swore he could feel a drop of sweat trickle down his forehead as refocused their vision on towards him.

"We must have heard something then . . . let's give Eragon some space dear."

With a nod, the two left Eragon and as the door closed shut, the creature made its way out and came back up. Instead of crawling on the bed, it had crawled up the wall nearest to Eragon's head; this had probably been how it made its way on the ceiling. The teen snarled at the thing as it squealed, it seemed to mock him. However, it would be a third time Eragon would be stopped as the creature looked in his direction.

yoU . . . tErRAn

His eyes widened. The guttural voice that had seeped into his mind was utterly drenched in something unknown to anything he could ever imagine. What was scarier was the fact that the voice had no come from its mouth; it had resonated within his head.

sPeaK

It was a command, but this one seemed much easier to fight back than the creature's last attempt. Instead of answering, he fought back with a question.

"What . . . are you," Eragon muttered under his breath.

It hissed as it responded.

HuNGry

Oh, it was that kind of creature was it. Smarmy little thing, Eragon nearly smashed it without remorse when it jumped back on his bed. It was looking at him and gurgling something in its mouth. If it smarmy, that meant it could talk. If it could talk, that meant it was smart. Now if it was smart . . . what kind of creature was this thing.

"So you speak," he said softly. Eragon could hear everyone down stairs stirring as it spoke in his head again.

nO . . . hUNgrY

Perhaps intelligent had a wide array of meanings . . . one of which pointed towards this creature's mental capacity. Sure, it could speak, but if all it wanted to ask for was food, Eragon wouldn't have categorized it any higher than some beast. In fact, the creature began to . . . stare, the creature didn't have eyes, at his meal. Some dry meat, potatoes, and a numerous vegetables were all that it needed to make it drool, much to Eragon's disgust. Curiously, he could now pinpoint where the odor from earlier came from. The creature had probably gotten its spittle on him or something disgusting like that.

He grabbed at a piece of meat, hesitant to feed this strange thing. Eragon half expected it to jump at him, but strangely enough, the beast was now frozen in place. Its gaze rapidly bounced back and forth between Eragon and the meat in his hand. Slowly, but surely, the beast's tongue began to poke out from in between its teeth as it calmly laid itself down and Eragon was all the more confused.

When he moved its meal closer, it reacted like the thing would fight back or attack. As the meat was unresponsive, it seem became clear to the . . . thing that the meat would not lash out. Still, that didn't mean it would simply take the meal with weak nibbles. Once it got the dry meat in its jaw, the monster was quite fervent in tearing and gnawing at it.

Several gulps and chews later, the monster crawled towards the other edible things. Eragon was just getting used to the silence when it spoke once more.

yoU . . . eAt?

There was barely a small hint that suggested a query aimed towards him. Strange that this thing had the gall to question him so casually . . . and that he had reacted so little in such a manner.

"No . . . N-no . . . you eat . . ."

Eragon soon found it harder to process words than he normally did; the sudden chortle that echoed from its throat only made things more unsettling.

yOU . . . leARn FasTEr

It slinked to his food, and before he knew it, the monster was eating everything available. Like a king, the monster ate without a care, leaving nothing for Eragon in the process. Granted, he didn't mind or care, more focused with the creature itself. However, despite his lack of care, as he was looking at the monster, he was quite observant with its arrogant qualities, all-consuming maw, and, most of all, its shade changing grey skin. He immediately thought of the stone . . . but of course, now he could see that it was an egg.

So, the rock he had found was truly an egg and now he was dealing with the creature. It was intelligent, or perhaps somewhat intelligent, and, from the mental connection he was receiving, the thing was probably magically enabled. Magic was . . . well, all he knew was that the stories surrounding feats of magic were quite larger than life.

But was it a dragon? The stories he had listened in on were verily much pointing towards how dragons were as intelligent as any human and this creature spoke somewhat intelligently, even if it came off as creepy. But where were the eyes, the wings, heck, it didn't even have legs for crying out loud. The more and more he thought about it, he just couldn't tell if it was a dragon or some malformed attempt at making one.

For a second, he had considered asking if it was a dragon, but then he was struck with how stupid that would have been. It was just born; how in the world would the eye-less beast have been able to even comprehend it, let alone identify what it was.

Then it came down to one final thought and this was what hit him the hardest. What was keeping Eragon from protecting this thing? For all the teen knew, this creature was some random ugly beast that had come across Eragon by chance. He had no responsibility for it and it certainly wasn't going to benefit him.

But just as he began to think that, his little companion stopped in its tracks. A resounding snap came as its jaws clamped down on a strong thick thigh bone, one most undoubtedly from a calf's own leg. The meat had all been scraped off and the creature was just about to spit out the leg when it carried on with breaking the leg. Eragon, having been stuck in his own train of thought, blinked and pulled himself back when he realized it had stopped.

A cruel silence crept back into the fray with only the gentle wind to talk back. The silence was enough to get him on the edge, but with his attention starting to go back on towards the creature, he was sure to feel . . . more than off. He couldn't help but ask what in the world was wrong to have stopped it in its tracks.

And then, he felt it.

It started slow at first, but the seconds that passed slowed to a crawl as he felt something reach into him. This was no experience of the soul or the body, no, rather an experience of the mind. The best way he could have described it was to feel something, a spider perhaps, start crawling up his back along his spine. Each leg moving up onto him seemed to lock every part of his body bit by bit as it made its way towards the base of his neck. The worst part of it all was at the end where it seemed to stop in its tracks, legs still on his shoulders and keeping still.

But it was even worse, when he felt something deeper. Was it tendrils? Needles? Blades? . . . Well, whatever it was, apparently it had been there much longer than he had thought. Something was already stuffed right in his head, like a hand in a sock puppet ready to play with its toy.

It was then that the creature crawled turned around, its maw drooling as its eyeless gaze tore into him. Electricity sent shivers through out his very being as he looked at it, fearing the worst as it looked at him.

This thing . . . this . . . creature . . . It was . . . it had a hold of him a long time ago.

I hEaR yOu

With that, it leapt out the window; how it did so escaped Eragon's comprehension. Before he could do much, a small pricking feeling hit the teen and he pulled back his hand. Immediately he looked for a wound, but there was no drawn blood. A part of him wanted to think that he was imagining things, but, sure enough, there was something else that had drawn his attention. On his hand was a silvery mark, one like a undulating star, had stained the palm of his hand. Had it been there this whole time or did he just feel it?

Find me . . . when you are ready . . .

It was the clearest he had heard it speak yet.