7.00 am, the spine
Eragon stepped closer to the egg, eyeing it curiously. He did not know what was it, whether or not it was valuable. Silently, he cursed the flash of light that had scared away the deer, and in the long run, his family's chance for survival. Sighing, he moved closer to the egg, picking it up. Absently, Eragon noticed that it was warm to his touch, and there were little white veins running all over it.
Standing up, he looked around for any signs of life. Scowling deeply, he realized that the appearance of the egg had spooked the animals into hiding. Biting down on a yell of frustration, he made his way out of the spine, and back to his home, never noticing the yellow eyes that were observing him in the protection of the darkness, nor the malicious grin that soon followed.
Finally making his way home, he slumped down onto his bed, hands wandering over the egg, playing with it. He could not believe that the only meat he was able to get today was in the form of an egg. A BLUE egg at that. Soon, he drifted off into a deep sleep, dreaming of deer, fire and strangely, a petite elf-maid.
"Eragon! Wake up!" a loud voice shouted, before he was being assaulted by a pillow.
"Ouch. What?!" Eragon mumbled, throwing one arm up in defense, cracking open one eyelid to see his cousin Roran holding a pillow in his hand, grinning widely.
"Garrow wants us to go down to the village to get some more meat. Are you coming?" his cousin asked, crossing his arms, tapping his feet impatiently.
Eragon sighed and sat up, stretching his stiff limbs. Leaping out of the bed, he splashed some water onto his face, before following Roran to Carvahall.
Ellesméra, 8 am
Islanzadi paced worriedly around her living room, her hands twisting a clean white handkerchief. She had not received any word from the border patrol that the group carrying the egg had made it past the borders of Du Weldenvarden. Her brow creased in worry as she thought of the implications. Du Weldenvarden was an easy place to get lost in, but the group consisted of experienced elves who knew the path well.
'They should have made it past the border already,' Islanzadi thought worriedly. She eyed the rapidly lightening sky with consternation. She hoped that there was nothing wrong.
'Maybe they got lost' a hopeful voice sounded in her mind. 'Oh please, Islanzadi. Like there was a chance that Faolin or Glenwing would ever get lost in a forest where they patrolled daily.' Replied a cynical voice immediately.
Just then, a sweating elf rushed into her living room, startling Islanzadi greatly. She almost jumped in shock, but recovered just in time, looking at the elf, worry clouding her clear green eyes.
"What is it?" she all but demanded, rushing over to his side.
"Islan...zadi," he panted, "The border patrol reported that they saw two bodies lying in Du Weldenvarden."
Islanzadi's face paled, the handkerchief falling soundlessly from her hands. She sat down shakily onto a chair, her thoughts in turmoil. 'Oh god, please don't let it be Arya. Please,' she thought frantically.
"Who was it?" she asked, her voice shaking with emotion. She was worried that it would be Arya that was dead. Islanzadi did not know how she would cope if that was so. Eragon was gone, disappearing into the thin air, her mate, Evandar was dead. If Arya died, all hope was lost for the revival of the Dranians. In essence, she would be the last of her species.
"It was Faolin and Glenwing, Islanzadi," the young elf whispered.
A cold chill settled around Islanzadi's heart. Faolin and Glenwing were the most experienced elves in the group. If they were dead, there was no hope that Arya had survived.
"What about Arya?" she asked softly, hoping that she made it out alive, even when she knew that anyone who killed Faolin and Glenwing would have most likely killed her as well.
The young elf sighed, not looking at Islanzadi in the eye as he replied, "there was evidence of a struggle at the bottom of the ravine but we didn't see any bodies except for dead Urgals. The surrounding trees were all burnt, and all we could salvage was a piece of parchment."
He passed the piece of parchment over to Islanzadi, knowing that she would want to read it. Islanzadi took it with shaky hands. Some of the words were already faded, and the edges were singed badly. She read it carefully, noting that the chain of words that seemed to make no sense at all,
'Mother ambush dead Durza egg village Brom don't worry much'
It read. The younger elf spoke again, "the patrol hypothesized that Arya had rolled down and got captured by Durza. We found this hidden underneath a pile of soil, with a white lotus. The egg is nowhere to be seen, but a group of our best magic users reported a strong surge in magic in the direction of the spine last night."
Islanzadi felt fear creeping up on her once more. She hoped this was all a bad dream, when in her heart, she knew that it was not. All she could do now was to hope that the egg was safe and that Eragon was still out there. At that instance, Islanzadi was more determined to defeat the Empire.
"Thank you, Fenlef," she murmured at last, thoughts elsewhere.
The young elf took it as his cue to leave, not before saying, "don't worry too much, Islanzadi. Arya is a strong elf, she would make it through. She's too stubborn to die anyway."
Islanzadi let out a wry chuckle at that. She hoped that he was correct for their sakes. If Arya was to die, all hope of vanquishing the Empire and reviving the riders were lost.
8.00 am, Carvahall
Eragon followed Roran reluctantly through the village of Carvahall, where they made their various purchases. There were fewer goods available now, considering that, most of the merchants were afraid of the ruthless empire troops, who were stopping them at random and taking their supplies away from them. Already, there had been reports of some mysterious deaths occurring along the roads to the other villages. He frowned at that thought, not wanting to dwell on it for too long. Slowly, he made his way to Sloan's shop, ready to trade the newly acquired egg for a few pounds of meat. Meat was more expensive now, and since he did not manage to kill any animals in his hunt earlier that morning, he had to buy them.
Entering the dark shop cautiously, he noticed that there were fewer customers than before. Most probably due to the recent attacks, he thought to himself, as he made his way to the counter.
"What do you want boy?" Sloan growled, once he spotted the younger man.
Eragon scowled. Though both men had not been on the best of terms before, he still expected that the other man would be decent enough to converse with the proper decorum.
"Do you have any meat left?" he asked pointedly, masking his irritation.
Sloan nodded, removing a large slab of meat from the hook. "How much do you need?" he growled, "hurry up boy, I have other things to do."
Eragon felt a dart of irritation shoot through him at Sloan's tone. "Two pounds would be enough," he said, after moments of deliberation.
The other man nodded, and begun chopping the meat into smaller pieces. "You do know you have to pay, don't you?" he growled, wrapping the meat up in brown paper.
Eragon nodded, pushing the stone over to Sloan. He watched as the butcher's eyes went wide. "Where did you get this?" the other man asked in barely a whisper.
"The spine," he answered, not seeing what is the big deal over that piece of news.
Almost immediately, Sloan's mood changed. His face darkened, and if Eragon could have seen more clearly, he would have noticed that the other man's eyes had became darker, if that was even possible.
"Get out, and take this accursed stone with you," he growled, moving from behind the counter to push Eragon out, thrusting the blue stone back to the boy.
Eragon stared at the other man, confused. What was going on? His mind screamed. Never the less, he moved out of the shop cautiously, trying to resist the temptation to just run away and back to his house.
Just as he was ready to run out of the shop, he heard another voice, deeper than what he was used to.
"Leave the boy alone, Sloan," startled, Eragon looked up, and came face to face with Brom, the storyteller from the village.
Sloan paled at the appearance of Brom, though he tried not to show it. Moving back into his shop, clutching a money bag which Brom must have passed to him, he passed the meat to Eragon, before slamming the door behind him; leaving Eragon with Brom.
"Thank you," Eragon said gratefully, clutching his parcel and stone in his hands.
Brom nodded brusquely, looking at Eragon with what seems like consternation.
"You two are very much alike," he sighed at last, looking tired and old for a change. With that, he was gone, leaving Eragon with his dark thoughts.
A/N: R/R Please. ;D I'm sorry I took so long to update. Things in school have been really hectic lately.