Hey, what's up? Wannabeanauther here. Glad you guys liked my last chap. Just so ya know, this story has a lot to go. And for the comment 'bout it being short, check out my other story and you'll probably realize that that was just an introductory chapter. My shortest chapter in my other fic, Evermore(which I strongly encourage you read if you like my writing style) is C.P.'s chapter, where I use the real third chapter in the I.T. and that's only cause I can't legally publish much more on the internet…yet. Now, this idea is really developed as I've been so busy with Evermore, I haven't put it down. But I not only have been bugged night and day bout this idea, but I also realize not very many people have read my other fic. I guess you could say this is the story to make more people my other works read it.
By the way, I do not own Eragon, Eldest, or Empire(if that really is the tile) or chris Paolini. By the way, is anyone else ready for the writer to become a character in a parody of his own book?
So, without further ado, here's chapter two, An un-warm welcome.
"Get the gun, Marry Ann! Here there'd be a dragon!" The eccentric farmer croaked as he ran around the barn while Saphira calmly tried to speak with him. Eragon couldn't help but chortle as he watched the scene.
Sir, please. We mean no harm. Saphira pleaded in a soothing tone.
"Marry Ann! Get my helmet too! Them space aliens'd be back again!" The farmer screamed. Eragon smacked himself in the face while Saphira gave a deep, frustrated sigh.
Maybe it wasn't so smart to assume they'd all seen dragons regularly in…where ever we are. Saphira remarked in a dull tone.
I believe he said we're in Montanner…before you showed up.
Flashback.
As they walked down the hill, a familiar sight began to take shape midst the foreign things. There were farms and corn fields, sod homes and livestock. But the horse seemed less worked. The chickens more bold. And the cattle less common. Still, even with the normal sight of a horse grazing with a young foal, there came odd things. Wire fenced the livestock. Eragon wondered how it could possibly hold them in…till he touched it. It reminded him of that time when he first met Solembum. The item he had been holding seemed to attack him with mini lightning bolts. Same with this fence wire. Eragon almost expected Solembum to come up behind him as he lay on the dirt, dazed after touching the wire. But instead, it was just Saphira.
Maybe that wasn't to smart…She remarked as she laughed out loud.
No kidding…Eragon muttered before continuing with, I wonder if the wire's enchanted…. Perhaps I shall ask the farmer in charge of this field…
Well, his home is just ahead. Maybe we could… Saphira started.
We? Saphira, I'm pretty sure they don't see many…or any…dragons here. Eragon retorted.
Who says? Saphira remarked back.
Well, you want to bet? Eragon mocked. He watched as Saphira shuffled her feet as she raised to her full height, obviously excepting.
Name the terms. Saphira said back as her lips curled into a toothy grin.
Okay. I'll go up first, see if they're home. I'll signal you. Got it? Eragon watched as she hardily shook her head. She was a tough negotiator, but they had reached an agreement. Saphira promised not to be seen by any others if the farmer reacted wrongly. But if he didn't, Saphira had the right to remain glued to Eragon's side till they found their way out of the godforsaken place.
Okay then. I'll be right back. And when I do this, Eragon made a strange gesture between a wave and fist. "Come." He finished out loud as he turned and began towards the barn. Eragon looked over everything carefully, noting similarities between his uncle's farm and this place. A thick coat of grime covered nearly anything within dust's reach. The grass was a pale green and patchy but long in most areas. There was a long trail leading into fields of short, pale yellow corn. At first, Eragon believed it to be the work of a plow, but upon further observation, he saw there was no plow in sight. Instead, an odd, yellow and green thing covered the earth at the end of the tracks. Eragon could make out the words "John Deer" on it. Next to that, he could see a chicken coop, with the occasional anemic gold or brown chicken running out or in its entrance. Near that, he saw a large, red and white barn, which was badly in the need of a roof job. As Eragon kept on, he could see a small, white shack with the roof partially blown out.
On the small porch sat two people, an elderly woman and man. The woman's hair was long and white and tied back. She was thick and short as a tree stump. Her face was old and tattered and had two big spectacle-like things covering her eyes. A fluffy white cat sat on her lap. The man had a pointed chin covered with a shadowy, grey beard. He was thin and lanky as a sapling. His hair was a sparse grey and a big old straw hat sat on top of his head. He gave a weak smile at Eragon. His teeth were jagged and nearly brown with dirt. Eragon gave a slightly disgusted smile back.
"Why, lookie here, Mary Ann. It's one of dem boy scouters. Wha' cha' got ta sell, boy?" The man addressed Eragon.
"Nothing, dear sir. I was just—" Eragon answered, giving the man a smile.
The man stroked his tiny whiskers as he interrupted, "Hmmmm, how much dis Nothing be?"
"Oh no. I don't want any money, sir. I just want—" Eragon couldn't believe this man's stupidity.
"Well, what do ya want fer it? I gots the finist stuff 'ere in Montanner. Come un. I'll show yas." With that, the man simultaneously got up, grabbed a huge fist full of Eragon's shirt, and yanked him all the way into a cluttered barn before he could say a word.
"Take yer pickses 'n' I'll tell yas if I'd be a wantin' to trade yas fer it." The man began shuffling around, picking through what looked like an deserted city to Eragon. Cob webs covered nearly everything; from a small device covered in springs to a large, rusty item that even to Eragon's untrained eye seemed to not have worked for a long. The farmer shuffled through his things while Eragon watched silently.
Finally, he spoke. "Sir, would you know where we…I could get some provisions?"
"Pro-what?" the farmer asked, turning to face him with an odd look.
"You know…food. Water. Clothing. Shelter. Those kind of things…" Eragon replied quickly. The farmer scratched his brain for a second.
"Oh, you's means groceraies. Sure I's does. In that there city," he point southwest, "or ther'd be a small town between them there hills."
"Uh, thanks." Eragon said. Th farmer shrugged and returned to shuffling through his stuff. Eragon thought for a second about asking him if he'd ever seen a dragon, but then thought better. Even if people here did see dragons like Saphira all the time, Eragon doubted this man, no matter how friendly and helpful, was like other people. Did he really look like a boy scout? He didn't think so.
He was just about to turn to leave when he heard a sharp squeak. Looking down, he noticed a small rat, scurrying over his foot. He aimed to killed it with magic or at least scare it away, but he couldn't take chances. He balled up his fist, but changed his plan. Instead, he gave it a bunt kick. It screeched and ran away.
His attentions reverted back to the man. He sighed deeply as he turned to leave. But, looking up, he noticed a deep blue speck in the sky. He was about to dismiss it as a bird, but his elf eyes beat him to it. It was much larger then a bird. The speck began to grow, and grow, and grow, till it was too big to be a simple speck.
Finally completely comprehending what was about happen, he quickly tried to contact her. But for some odd reason, he could not reach her, but she wasn't blocking him out. It was like she was too far away to communicate with him, though with every second she drew closer. Soon he could make out every shimmering blue scale on her hide, yet he still could not talk to her. Soon he could feel every great thud her wings made. Her wing tips shifted up as she descended, landing right next to her rider.
As soon as Eragon felt her mind, he screamed at her, Quick, leave now. I have not prepared him. But the connection he had to her was weak, so all that she heard was, I have prepared him! So she stayed by his side as the rider looked at her in furry, not understand she had not heard and confused as to why she was not leaving.
Before he could say anything else, the farmer turned around with a long rusty pipe in hand. He took one look at Saphira and suddenly shrieked like a girl, which was surmising as his voice was deep, then he began running around yelling.
"Why didn't you listen to me and leave like I told you too? Now look at the mess you made!" Eragon shrieked, his eyes turning slightly red from the farm's dust. Saphira gave a low whimper, but she did not answer him.
"Well, what do you have to say for yourself?" Eragon glared at her hard.
I said I was sorry. What more do you want? Like I told you, all I heard was that you had prepared him. She answered with a low snarl under her breath.
Sorry, Saphira. I didn't know. Eragon turned to the farmer, What should we do with him? Saphira heaved a sigh.
"Get the gun, Marry Ann! Here there'd be a dragon!" he croaked as he ran around the barn while Saphira calmly tried to speak with him. Eragon couldn't help but chortle as he watched the scene.
Sir, please. We mean no harm. Saphira pleaded in a soothing tone.
"Marry Ann! Get my helmet too! Them space aliens'd be back again!" The farmer screamed. Eragon smacked himself in the face while Saphira gave a deep, frustrated sigh.
Maybe it wasn't so smart to assume they'd all seen dragons regularly in…where ever we are. Saphira remarked in a dull tone.
I believe he said we're in Montanner…before you showed up. Eragon replied, still slightly chortling.
An idea hit Saphira at that moment. She snickered as she suddenly lashed out her magnificent blue tail, striking the panic stricken farmer and stopping him dead in his tracks. Eragon ran too the man. He quickly felt for a pulse and gave a sigh of relief when it was revealed that he was still alive. He picked up the man's limp body, and carried him back to his rocking chair. Beside him, Mary Ann sat, sleeping peacefully. He silently left with Saphira playfully nipping at his heels.
Once they were a good distance away, Eragon turned to Saphira.
What is wrong with you? Our connection was really fuzzy but a moment ago. Now I can feel you loud and clear, yet you act your age. Eragon asked, clearly concerned.
Saphira sighed, I know. It is this place. I feel here as if I am a mere animal. There's just something about it.
I know. I could not use magic back there. Eragon said. He shifted, uneasy. I don't like this place. It matters not our promise, I'll try to stay near you as much as possible.
In that cased, I am content. Saphira answered. But she noticed her rider's attentions were not on her, but off in the distance. What's wrong?
I feel him…Eragon said bitterly.
Who? Murtagh or Galbatorix?
Both…
Little cliff hanger at the end there. Yes, they are both there now. And I must say, hillbilly characters are really fun. I encourage any of you writers to make them. And it's decision time. Should I make this pre-Eragon or post-Eldest? As in, should Paolini have already written Eldest or not even began to think up Eragon? Please, I need help. I have ideas either way…