Chapter 1:

Galbatorix paced furiously in front of his throne as a black, hooded figure stood silently at his feet. His breath was ragged as he sent death glares at the figure, pausing amidst, hesitating, too angry to speak.

Raising a finger, he snarled, "You-!", before putting his hand down again, pacing back and forth, back and forth, back and forth…

Despite this, the hooded figure still kept his (or her) head down, silent as ever. This carried on for a long time. Thoughts racing through his head, the perfectly planned plots and attacks suddenly running awry, as if this mere revelation had single-handedly ripped apart his plans that had taken him days, weeks, months to plan. He paced, while the hooded stayed silent.

"That egg wasn't meant for you!" he finally hissed in a soft yet furiously angry voice.

Silence ensued as he continued pacing.

"It was never meant for you!" he snarled, pointing at her (or him) again, "You ruined everything!"

Those lips split open, pausing, before saying softly, "If it was never meant for me, would it ever have hatched?"

Galbatorix whipped around and savagely seized the person by the shoulders, hissing again, "It wasn't meant for a common dog! It wasn't meant for you!" screaming the last sentence, before back handing the person who fell to the floor.

The lips parted again, before saying softly, "But it was meant to hatch for me,"

With that, a small scaley head poked out from the robes of the person, it's tiny emerald head stroked lovingly by it's owner...

Eragon stood there in amidst the Spine, surveying the familiar surroundings with a sense of nostalgia. Just a few years ago, his business in the Spine was of hunting, no more, after which he would return home…

A fierce draft indicated Saphira's landing next to him.

Reminiscing old times? she asked.

"Yes…" Eragon said in a somewhat distant voice.

You aren't still thinking, are you?

He looked at her.

You aren't still thinking about how life would be like, with Garrow around, me locked up in the back of your house, and you just being in the Spine to hunt, are you?

Looking away, he said bluntly, "I'm not,"

Well, I hope you aren't, she said just as bluntly, because it would be a shame for you to abandon our duties and responsibilities.

"I told you Saphira, I am not!" he snapped.

She kept mute and took flight away, but low enough to be covered by the foundry.

He walked a fair distance, barring Saphira from his mind. He needed time alone.

He rush of the Igualda Falls was barely audible. Smiling, he ran towards the sound, hopping over large trunks that stood in his way, eager to meet the familiar place.

The fresh water smell greeted him. Throwing his head back and taking a deep breath, a smile spread across his face. The minute his eyes opened, he saw a girl lying on the ground several feet from him. Her head had suffered a severe blow as her arms and neck were encrusted with dried blood. In her right hand lay a sword that was equally crimson, her palm stained so full with blood he couldn't even see the lines on it. Her left hand however, was limply draped over her abdomen that had suffered a stab.

Her plain, mossy green dress was saturated in blood. Eragon rushed to her side, thinking her dead, relieved to see that her chest was rising and falling, but barely.

Saphira! he contacted, I need you here, now! he said, sending an image of the Igualda Falls to her.

Sensing Saphira's haste, Eragon bent forward and placed his right hand over the girl's head wound. The minute his hand touched her bare skin and before his gedwey ignasia even started glowing, a deafening roar was heard as the trees around thrashed.

Shocked, Eragon quickly stood up and drew his sword.

Whatever it is, it's gone, he thought after a while, relieved as he bent down over the girl again.

Whatever what? Saphira asked.

Right there, right then, the beast burst forth from the trees surrounding the Igualda falls. Eragon held a hand to his face, shielding his face from the random pieces of wood that flew.

Do not touch her! a voice hissed in his head.

Bringing his hand down uncertainly, he saw a dragon, the colour of emerald, standing over him, neck arched towards him as it snarled in his very face…

Author's Note: This is my first Eragon Fic. My first chapters are usually short, like this one. So if enough reviews coax and encourage me enough, a second chapter will be posted with definitely twice the number of words (I hope). Please review after reading and tell me what you think of the story.