A/N: Greetings fellow friends and fans of the amazing book by our wonderful Mr. "No Comment" guy! I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving~!
I worked really hard to get this chapter out (which involved a lot of erasing and re-typing), but I also worked hard to make it acceptable. I've read too many stories about cheesy romances between Eragon and that person's OC, and while that's totally okay, my story won't be like that. I can't tell you exactly what's going to happen (because that would be spoilers, duhhhh~), but I will tell you that I am doing my absolute best to make this story not only realistically possible, but jaw dropping. I always loved when I found that amazing story that I adored like no other, because it made me feel along with the story. That's my goal.
I may or may not achieve it, but that's what I'd like to do.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own creativity to create this story and my own characters.
Enjoy! :)
Chapter One
To say he was restless would be an understatement. He was beyond restless. No, perhaps restless wasn't the right word. Eragon was distraught. It had been over two weeks since the strange dream with the mysterious girl that visited him, and yet despite both his and Saphira's determination to find her, each clue followed up short, and every path they took ended up as a dead end. Each time Eragon was more frustrated than the last, regardless of Saphira coaxing him to calm down. They both had just come from a council with the Eldunari, and while they had said nothing that should have made him angry, Eragon felt hurt and nearly enraged. During the council, Glaedr had pointed out to them both that the strange girl had only contacted Eragon himself, and while that made sense to him, the Eldunari were suspicious and wary and advised him not to continue. He shared their concern, but it lessened his efforts no more than a bruise might.
They're right, Saphira. I know that. He began, sighing heavily as he paced to and fro. But she sought me out. I have to help her. I know it's a risk, but the war against Galbatorix was a risk too! A risk we had to take! This is important somehow. I feel it. I, I can't explain it, I just-
Why must you explain it to me? We are one, little one. I know what you feel. She said softly, settling herself on the balcony that stretched out from his study. It was large enough for her to lay curled up on, but the room itself, which he stood in, was smaller. He paced near her, close to a bookshelf that held scrolls and document entries of his time in this land. Stopping short, he cast her a long glance, realizing she was right.
You still doubt. He said then, tracing his mind over their bound to feel what she felt. Doubt was clear there, but not as deeply as the Eldunari. Their doubt ran like blood in their veins. Saphira held less doubt only because she had been with him when they defeated the evil Rider and false King, Galbatorix. The memory was harsh, but it gave both of them pride still.
Yes. She confirmed, knowing she could not hide it, nor did she need to. I do not doubt your abilities, but your insight. You are searching for someone who may not want to be found. She sought you out, but did she ever say she wanted your help?
He thought hard of his dream, remembering as much as he could. It was fairly simple to do so. He'd practically memorized it by now. No, you're right. She didn't.
You are seeking her because of Arya. Saphira said simply, and he knew that was right, even if he wanted to deny it. Saphira continued: You dreamt of her, and then sought her out to rescue her. Perhaps this is the same, but why then would she not ask for your help? It would have made both jobs easier.
He pondered this for a moment, leaning back on the side of the bookshelf. He leaned his head back, thinking hard. A part of him realized she was right, and understanding settled over him. He turned to face her, brows furrowed, but not in anger. You think there's another reason she sought me out then?
Saphira stared, her large eyes focused only on him. I do not know what, but perhaps she wants you to search for something.
His brows furrowed further, and his gaze turned away to focus on the ceiling instead. What could she want me to find?
He'd asked no one in particular, even if he'd voiced it to Saphira. She had become used to him asking questions that were directed more to himself than her. However she could see the way he slumped slightly, and the way his eyes dimmed. He felt helpless in this moment, and while it had been a long time ago, both Eragon and Saphira felt the same helplessness when Garrow had been murdered.
Little one. She cooed softly, and he spared no time to push off the wall and toward his companion in heart and mind. She allowed him to settle by her forearm, and gently, very gently, she draped her wing over him, enclosing him against her form like a mother would her child. There, he found comfort against her warmth, and soon enough, sleep followed.
xxx
The next few days passed slowly, as if Eragon himself were in a haze.
He kept himself busy enough, training with his swordsmanship, but he knew no one could match him anymore, and soon he grew bored of it. Magic he took up next, however since he knew the name of the ancient language, he'd practically mastered the art as well. Reading and writing were easier, as he still needed to practice to keep his mind fresh and active, and he even took up reading some of the ancestral scrolls the elves had brought with them when Ellesmera sent Scholars to help keep things in order for when the new Riders would come.
Most were boring however, and only a few interested him enough to borrow from the great library they had built. The entire stronghold was more of a city than a fortress, and while safety precautions were made, he thought there was more to do.
Two more days passed, this time he spent them helping fortify the routes the elves planned to take to take reports to Ellesmera and it's Queen. His mind played memories of Arya at the mention of her, however, and he found himself retreating back to his homestead to find peace from them as well.
On the fifth days passing, dead in the night, Eragon awoke to a strange voice singing, but fell back asleep at the lulling sound that vaguely reminded him of elves. The next morning, he awoke with fragments of a war between Dragon Riders and wild dragons, and decided then that he wouldn't read scrolls or books before head anymore, because the dream stuck with him for the remainder of the day. By evening he was tired, and with a departed word with Saphira as she left to go hunting, he found his way back to his home and climbed the stairs, making his way inside.
He found himself in bed almost immediately, but when he shut his eyes, no sleep came.
He wasn't sure how long he'd laid there, waiting and thinking. He thought of his life before they'd left their home of Alagaësia, and even thought back to his life in Carvahall. Memories flooded him and filled his head and heart with unease, but soon enough, as if under some kind of spell, Eragon's eyelids grew heavy and he drifted off to sleep once more, the memories he'd been thinking fading away as if to nothingness.
xxx
He was running. Racing. Leaves crunched under his footfall, but he paid them no mind. However a thought fluttered through him, as if another had thought it and given it to him. They'll hear me.
Shuffling swiftly, Eragon could hear the footfall of others below him, and realized suddenly that he was on a mountain, and however weird that was to him, became even weirder as a sudden voice called out, "Come back here!"
Panic shuddered down his spine, and with a sickening realization, he understood now that he was being chased! Someone was running after him! Why? Confusion wracked his brain, and he sorted through all the possible reasons he might be getting chased, and came up empty handed.
He pushed his legs harder, moving automatically, as if he weren't doing it himself. He was grateful that his body still knew how to flee, as he hadn't needed to really fight or flee anything the past few years. Even now, hiding places swam in his mind, and when he searched for the familiar channel of magic, he was shocked to discover it wasn't there.
"This way." A voice whispered in his ear. He tried to turn his head, but found himself unable to do so. His body just kept running, as if it weren't his anymore. His heart was racing, and something seized up in his chest. What's going on? He thought, and at once a sudden blaze shone down in his eyes. The sunlight split through the tree line, blinding him. A noise of distress left him as he twisted to flee the light, but found himself instead tumbling back downwards, then rolling.
Pain erupted in his shoulder, and he struggled to right himself when he stopped rolling, finding himself dizzy and still unable to control his movements.
"I am this way." The voice echoed again, and he stumbled to his feet, pushing himself up with his hands. There was dirt on his hands and face, and practically his entire body was covered in leaves that clung to the fabric of his clothing. Reaching up to touch his shoulder, he felt the pain subside as something cold passed over him. No. Not over him. Through him. He could see the figure in front of him, and from their back, he guessed they were a she.
She.
His breath caught in his throat. Her. It's her. His mind screamed, but he felt sluggish, as if he couldn't move to reach out or to even call out to her. The voice before suddenly sounded familiar, and he realized that she had been leading him through a memory! It was practically unheard of, especially from far away, but it didn't matter, because here she was. Right in front of him. Alive. Alive.
"You're alive." He said finally, slowly. Ever so slowly. It seemed too slow, but he knew he'd just taken a fall, even if it was Lydia. He was still disoriented.
She stopped moving and whipped her head around, and in the sunlight he could see her eyes were brown, not like coal. Her hair was brown too, like his own, and her face was fair. She looked pale, but it somehow suited her. She looked passed him however, then around, studying everything. He knew at once that she didn't hear him, or see him. He was but a ghost, watching her memory. However something touched his mind, swirling around it like a blanket.
Eragon the Dragon Rider. It said, and while he watched the Lydia before him move, he felt another presence, this one older. It felt similar, but he couldn't place why. It had to be her; Lydia, however somehow he felt like that wasn't quite it. He opened his mind to her, as the voice was feminine, and she spoke again. Will you bring it back to me?
Confusion settled over him. "Find what?" He said aloud, wondering if she would hear him. That would tell him if she were close. Even now, he was wary.
"You must find it. She will not survive much longer. We must be one." It boomed around him this time, threatening him with it's intensity. He winced at the harshness of it, though concern was deep in the stranger's voice.
"She? Lydia? What's happened to her?" He called out, still confused. "Who's 'we'? Who are you?"
"She is dying! The outside is no place for her!"
"What do you mean?" He cried, frustrated at the stranger. "What's happening?"
"The world is changing, Rider. The Serpent is coming."
He blinked. Serpent? Confused and frustrated, he opened his mouth to speak, but movement caught his attention. Turning to Lydia, he saw her touching her shoulder, frowning and swaying. Blood coated where her hand was, and she looked around, suddenly looking very small. He stepped forward slowly, wanting to help but hesitant because of the cold he'd felt before.
Suddenly, she stumbled, as if tripped by air, and slid backwards toward another decline. Another fall might kill her, he knew, and he lunged forward, reaching out for her as quickly as his body would allow, but time seemed to slow and his world blurred-
"No!" He cried, sitting up swiftly in his bed. His eyes felt heavy still, but he was coated in sweat. He panted heavily, and a terror overwhelmed him. Whatever was happening, it involved Lydia and himself, and whatever answered he had received in the dream, more questions followed. Throwing his feet over his bed and hurrying to the main room where Saphira should be, he found that she had yet to return.
Casting his mind in all direction, he sent out a desperate cry. Saphira!
He would wait for her to return, and then he would go and speak to the Eldunari. Whatever was happening, whatever was "changing", as the strange voice had said, something felt terribly wrong. Something he wasn't even sure he understood. However he knew now that Lydia was still alive and that she was in danger of dying, and that somehow she needed to be returned "inside", and while he had more questions than answers, he had clues.
So he would keep looking, and somehow, some way, Eragon would find a way to send Lydia home.
This chapter is shorter than I would have liked, but I hope you enjoyed it as it was written! I'll do my best to get Chapter 2 up soon, but please bear with my busy schedule.
Any tips are welcomed openly! Thanks for reading! Until next time! :)
