I borrowed a lot of content from Christopher Paolini for this chapter since the experience of watching a dragon hatch and becoming a Rider is probably very similar for everyone who goes through it. Also, some of teh history in the chapter was taken from Eragon, since it was already written. For those of you who waited, forgive me for taking so long. Thank you for your patience. The next chapter hopefully won't take as long.
Brom stared in shock at the massive beast. He had seen many dragons during his life, but he had never been this close to one. For the first time, he realized just how big they were and, judging by the look of intelligence in the dragon's eyes, how smart they were. Brom waited, tensed, for the dragon to attack. When it became clear that it had no intentions of doing so, Brom spoke to it. "Er…um…hello."
A large, overwhelmingly complex consciousness touched his mind. Greetings, hatchling.
Brom started with surprise. "You can speak?"
Aye, perhaps better than you can, the dragon said, its tone colored with amusement.
As Brom struggled to come up with an answer to such a statement that could be addressed to such a creature with such a vast presence respectfully, the dragon spoke again. What is your name, young one?
"My name is Brom Holcombson. And yours?"
My name is Eridor.
Before Brom could reply, a door opened in the side of one of the buildings and an elf stepped out. The elf wore plain white robes, but belted to his side was a green sword of great beauty and power. Brom felt cold shivers run down his spine just looking at it. The elf carried a large sack in its arms. Something shaped like an orb rested within.
The dragon swung his head back toward his body and laid it on the ground. It closed its eyes and by all appearances went to sleep. Brom looked back at the elf. The elf spoke. 'Greetings, Brom Holcombson. My name is Arva. Welcome to the Rider's Compound of Kuasta. You are here for the examination, are you not?" Brom nodded, and the Rider appeared satisfied. With a gesture and a word, a wooden table and two chairs appeared before Brom. His neck prickled with the power in the air. "Please sit, Brom," Arva said kindly.
Brom sat and the elf sat across from him. "Here, you should have this," the elf said as he loosened the drawstring of his sack and rolled a large sapphire stone out of it into his hand. He offered it to Brom.
Brom gasped. The stone was beautiful. "You wish me to take that from you? You would trust me with such a valuable object?"
Arva smiled. "You can do no harm to the egg," he said, letting it drop onto the table with a thud. Brom instinctively started forward, as if to catch the stone before he caught himself. Arva picked the stone back up and offered it to Brom once again. "And if you tried to take the egg and flee with it, you would be killed before you left the compound." It took a moment for the elf's words to make sense to Brom, but when they did, he gasped. He was not worried about the Rider's caution against attempted thievery, but the realization that this blue stone must be a dragon egg was shocking. He took the egg with two hands, gazing upon it with awe and reverence.
"Now, let's get down to business," Arva said as he leaned back and polished his palms. "Brom, do you know the circumstances of the Rider's creation?"
Brom also settled back, placing the egg carefully in his lap and his hands absent-mindedly traced designs on the smooth blue surface as he replied. "I know that the first Dragon Rider, Eragon, found his dragon at the end of Du Fyrn Skulblaka," Arva flinched at Brom's use of the elven language, "and that they traveled amongst the two races to bring peace. Afterwards, strong magic was used to bond the two races together so that there would never be another conflict like it, for another war would destroy the two races."
Arva seemed surprised by Brom's knowledge. "That's impressive, Brom Holcombson. Very few would be able to tell me as much as you have. I was prepared to explain the story to you in detail today, but that would be useless since you already have that knowledge. Is there anything else that you would like me to talk about?"
Brom looked at the egg in his hands and at the dragon curled up behind the Rider. "Can you tell me about the dragons? They've always fascinated me."
The elf considered it for a moment and then nodded. "Dragons it is." Arva settled back in his chair and intertwined his fingers.
"Dragons have no beginning unless it lies with the creation of Alagaesia itself. And if they have an end, it will be when this world perishes, for they suffer as the land does. They, the dwarves, and a few others are the true inhabitants of this land. They lived here before all others, strong and proud in their elemental glory. Their world was unchanging until the first elves sailed over the sea on their silver ships from their ancient home of Alalea. We elves were a proud race then, and strong in magic. At first we regarded dragons as mere animals. From that belief rose a deadly mistake. A brash elven youth hunted down a dragon, as he would a stag, and killed it. Outraged, the dragons ambushed and slaughtered the elf. Unfortunately, the bloodletting did not stop there. The dragons massed together and attacked the entire elven nation. Dismayed by the terrible misunderstanding, we elves tried to end the hostilities, but couldn't find a way to communicate with the dragons.
"Thus, to greatly abbreviate a complicated series of occurrences, there was a very long and very bloody war, which both sides later regretted. At the beginning the elves fought only to defend themselves, for we were reluctant to escalate the fighting, but the dragons' ferocity eventually forced us to attack for our own survival. This lasted for five years and would have continued for much longer if an elf called Eragon hadn't found a white dragon egg. No one knows why that egg was abandoned. Some say the parents were killed in an elven attack. Others believe the dragons purposely left it there. Either way, Eragon saw the value of raising a friendly dragon. He cared for it secretly and, in the custom of the ancient language, named him Bid'Daum. When Bid'Daum had grown to a good size, they traveled together among the dragons and convinced them to live in peace with the elves. Treaties were formed between the two races. To ensure that war would never break out again, they decided that it was necessary to establish the Dragon Riders.
"At first the Riders were intended merely as a means of communication between the elves and the dragons. However, as time passed, their worth was recognized and they were given ever more authority. Eventually we took the island Vroengard for our home and built a city on it-Doru Araeba, that was built with dragon proportions. The Urgals, who followed the elves across the sea, were one of the reasons the Riders became valued for their battle prowess and ability to keep the peace."
Arva, who had had his eyes closed, now opened them and looked at Brom again. "Now, I know you already knew that, but it had to be said, for it is part of the dragon story." Brom nodded in understanding and Arva closed his eyes before starting again.
"Dragons never stop growing, and since they are immortal as long as they are not killed by magic, poison, or blade, the ancient ones are bigger than any human-made structure, and only the building built by the Riders in Doru Araeba could contain them. They are many times bigger than even Eridor here. They couldn't breathe fire until they were around five or six months old. The older a dragon was, the longer it could breathe fire. Some of them could sustain it for many minutes. They could mate at about six months as well.
"Many people go through their lives believing that the dragons are just wild creatures and that we Riders use them merely as an exotic means of transportation. However, as you have already learned, they are as intelligent as you or me, perhaps more so. Also, they are creatures of magic. They are so powerful that the creation of the Riders affected the elven race as a whole, granting us the same immortality of the dragons. They cannot control their magic at will, except for fire breathing and flying, but occasionally, a moment comes upon them when they may reshape the world around them, and not even a dozen of the strongest elven spellcasters can match their skill and power."
Brom listened in rapt attention as Arva told him about the dragons. The Rider went beyond merely describing them and their abilities, he also instructed Brom in how to care for a dragon, how dragons mated, what a dragon's diet should consist of, and many other things besides. He even listed a number of famous dragons and outlined their accomplishments to illustrate some point he was trying to make about there character and their abilities. An hour came and went without acknowledgement.
Finally, after the sun had shifted through a large portion of the sky, the Rider wrapped up his summary of dragons. As he fell silent, Brom swayed slightly, overwhelmed by the amount of information he had received. Once he had recovered slightly, he said, "Thank you, Rider Arva."
Arva nodded. "Please forgive me for carrying on like that, but it is a topic that I am passionate about, as you could probably have guessed," he said, gesturing with his head toward Eridor behind him.
"Well, I did ask for it," Brom said.
"So you did. You will forget most of what you learned here today, but some things will be remembered and you will always have a superior knowledge of dragons than most other humans….Well, you may leave now. The testing is over." Arva held out his hand for the dragon egg.
Brom was startled. "What do you mean? I wasn't tested…you've been talking the whole time."
The elf smiled. "Even while I spoke you were being tested."
"Oh." Brom was still confused, but he handed the egg to the Rider without any more protest and stood to leave. Before he could take a single step however, Eridor spoke.
Halt! The hatchling stirs within the egg!
Brom froze, staring at the egg. The elven Rider placed his hands on either side of the egg and stared intently at it, mouthing words silently. Brom did not recognize the words, at least what he could guess from the lip movements, and deduced that it must be elven. Eridor swung his head around and stared also at the egg over Arva's shoulder. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the two looked away. The dragon lowered his head to the ground and began to hum. Arva stared at Brom. "Congratulations, Shur'tugal. The dragon within this egg has chosen you to be her companion."
Brom stared at the Rider in shock. He looked at the egg, feeling awed. "What now?" he managed to ask.
"Now you must stay here, until the egg hatches and the two of you bond. Then, you will be brought to Illirea where you will be presented to the Elders. Then, a senior Rider will train you for the next decade or so in the arts of the Dragon Riders."
Brom looked back up from the egg, focusing on the Rider. "But what about my family? Will I never see them again?"
Arva regarded Brom carefully. "You will be able to say your good-byes after the egg hatches and you are bonded. Afterwards…you will not be the same person after you have bonded with your dragon. You will be a Dragon Rider. Your family will no longer mean what it does to you now."
Brom nodded, trying to wrap his mind around the concept. Whatever would come would come, and Brom would just have to bear it. "How long until the dragon hatches?"
"Sometime tomorrow. Come, there is much to be done!" Arva stood and gestured toward the door into the Compound. "Shall we?"
Brom, his head still reeling, stood and walked toward the door, the elf close behind him.
Brom jerked with surprise as a squeak pierced the silence of the room. He looked frantically around, trying to determine its source. Another squeak resonated throughout the room. There was only one possible source for the sound: the egg. Brom stared at it where it sat in the exact center of the stone table that dominated the center of the room. He had sat here for several hours, observing the blue stone and its white veins, waiting for it to hatch. Sudden excitement filled him as he realized that this was the beginning of the process.
The egg continued to squeak and then began rocking back and forth. Brom leaped to catch it, but it did not fall. The egg continued to rock and squeak for a few moments before falling silent and still. Then, suddenly, a crack appeared on the stone. Then another and another. Brom stared, transfixed, as the top of the stone, where all the cracks met, a small piece wobbled, as if balanced on something, then rose and toppled to the floor. After another series of squeaks, a small dark head poked out of the hole, followed by a weirdly angled body. Soon the creature was all the way out of the stone and stood upon the table. Brom looked in wonder upon the baby dragon before him.
The dragon was no longer than his forearm, yet it was dignified and noble. Its scales were deep sapphire blue, the same color as the stone. But not a stone, he realized, an egg. The dragon fanned its wings; they were what had made it appear so contorted. The wings were several times larger than its body and ribbed with thin fingers of bone that extended from the wing's front edge, forming a line of widely spaced talons. The dragon's head was roughly triangular. Two diminutive white fangs curved down out of its upper jaw. They looked very sharp. Its claws were also white, like polished ivory, and slightly serrated on the inside curve. A line of small spikes ran down the creature's spine from the base of its head to the tip of its tail. A hollow where its neck and shoulders joined created a larger-than-normal gap between the spikes.
The hatchling twisted its long neck and looked around the bare room in curiosity with hard, ice-blue eyes. After surveying the whole room, the dragon's attention fixed on Brom and it tottered forward across the table-top. As it did, the baby dragon stumbled and almost fell, but Brom reached out instinctively to catch the creature just before it hit the table. As he did, a blast of icy energy surged into his hand and raced up his arm, burning in his veins like liquid fire. He fell back with a wild cry, tumbling out of his chair onto the stone floor. An iron clang filled his ears, and he heard a soundless scream of rage. Every part of his body seared with pain. He struggled to move, but was unable to. He was completely unaware of anything that happened around him as he was locked in this all-consuming battle with the pain and the shock. After what seemed like hours, warmth seeped back into his limbs, leaving them tingling. Shivering uncontrollably, he pushed himself upright. His hand was numb, his fingers paralyzed. Alarmed, he watched as the middle of his palm shimmered and formed a diffused white oval. The skin itched and burned like a spider bite. His heart pounded frantically.
"The gedwey ignasia," a calming voice said from the corner. "The ultimate symbol of the bond between a Rider and his dragon. The hatchling is yours just as surely as you are hers, forever connected until the day one or both of you die."
Startled, Brom looked up and stared at the speaker. It was a male elf. He looked much like Arva; very thin, but strong, with pointed ears and slanted eyes. However, this elf had silver hair, as opposed to Arva's black. The elf was clothed in startling white robes, and a golden sword was belted to his waist, just as beautiful and powerful as the one Arva wore. Brom knew instinctively that he was another Rider. The elf was old beyond measure, though the only sign of age was the expression of great compassion and sadness upon his face, as well as his eyes, which were deep and full of memories of centuries past.
"Who are you?" Brom croaked.
"I am Oromis, scion of House Thràndurin, Dragon Rider. And you, Rider Brom, I have chosen to be my apprentice," the elf said, each word heavy with meaning. "Tomorrow, I will escort you to Illirea."