"What are you looking at hatchling?" asked the dragon fiercely. I realised in shock that she was talking to me in my mind as well as projecting her voice out so the other two could hear as well. "Well…" I started to laugh uncontrollably. Then the elf spoke. "Answer her!" The elf's voice was high and melodious; it sounded just as she looked. Then I saw her looking at something glinting on my right ankle; I quickly snatched it away, hiding it behind my other foot. This snapped me out of it.
The man said, "Easy Arya, she's just a kid." This struck a chord in my memory.
Then the man spoke to me," How old are you then? Are you 10 or 11?" His voice was warm and gentle.
"I'm 12," I said irritably. Why do people always think I'm younger than I really am?
The woman spoke again, Arya as I now knew she was called anyway. "What are you holding?"
Then the dragon spoke again sounding astonished. "That's me!"
"I know," I laughed.
"Why am I on a book cover?" she asked. Her voice was surprisingly light as a feather but it was obvious she could be as fierce as a lion. Then the man said, "And why is my name the title?"
"You have a lot of explaining to do," said Arya.
"Hang on a minute," I said shuffling closer to the befuddled trio. "You're Arya," I said pointing to the woman. "And you're Eragon," I said whilst pointing to the man. "So you're Saphira," I said as I lastly pointed to the dragon.
"So you know our names too," said Eragon half-turning towards Arya. "But the question is, how?"
"Well I don't know exactly how this has happened but I do have a sort of a theory."
Chief amongst my jumbled up thoughts was an idea that, if I wasn't desperate for some kind of answer, would be passed off as crazy and ridiculed to no end. I was generally passed off as crazy anyway so I shouldn't worry about that possibility. However, in this more than slightly odd situation, I was but also still willing to give whatever was swirling about up there an effortable go for everyone's sake. It was the best chance we had. I was again reminded that it was precisely idiotic but, prior to any previous misgivings, a salvation for my infinitely messed up yet debatably sane imagination when they turned to look at me with guarded but hopeful eyes. It was, after all, a confusing but sincere theory.
"Lets hear it then," said Eragon eyebrows raised.
"Well first tell me how you think you got here," I said still hesitant to give them an insight to myself when I wasn't sure I could trust them completely yet.
Before he could speak Arya said "Let me see that gemstone Eragon," holding out her hand sternly. He handed over the ring on his finger. To me it looked rather ordinary. A deep blue sapphire set in a fat band of silver that shone and glimmered in the moonlight coming through the window that Saphira had earlier trashed. Then Arya said, "My theory is that this rock on Eragon's ring transported us here."
"But why?" asked Saphira.
"I don't know," sighed Arya.
"I think you're right; I think that energy has its own magic. It's connected with the destinies of everyone and everything," I agreed.
"So why do you think there's been a book published about us in this world?" asked Eragon.
"Well, I think that this world, Earth, is a sort of junction for mythical legends to pass through and there are certain people in this world that are chosen randomly at birth to be born with ideas in their heads that are actually happening in other worlds. When they get old enough the ideas are ready to be spread out into the world and they are there as normal stories like any others. Mixed together stories, when two stories are paired, are what we call half-breeds. They don't usually come true. But if the wordsman or wordsmen as may be the case are strong enough it could happen after its been written. That's what makes it so especially unique. People are basically dictating other people's futures. It's crazy." I explained.
"So you think this Christopher Paolini person was born with the idea of the Dragon Riders?" asked Eragon.
"Yes," I answered confidently. "So far there have been three books titled Eragon, Eldest and Brisingr. He is writing the fourth book now; presumably because you haven't killed Galbatorix yet and he's waiting until something significant happens to write about."
"And you don't call this significant," Saphira muttered. I decided to ignore that.
"So in these books," Eragon said, taking the Eragon book from me. "It tells my life story."
"Yeah, I guess," I said. He flicked through it absentmindedly. Saphira looked around my room and saw the many attributes to the Inheritance Cycle books. "I'm guessing you like these books then?"
"Yeah, they're my favourite series," I replied cautiously.
"So now I'm famous," joked Eragon. Nobody laughed. We were all too confused and maybe a little afraid of what was meant to happen now.
"And also somethings could take you places; whether you've been there before or not. These can be songs, objects, gems, words or feelings. Like a ring for instance, perhaps," I pointed out.
This was greeted with a blank stare, a bewildered blink and a scornful frown.
"Look maybe, maybe things will make more sense in the morning," I said starting to feel very tired. "You see that farm over there," I said pointing out of the window towards a white barn and a red brick house. "There's a field a little way west of it. You can stay there because no one ever goes there any more, its meant to be haunted but since I've seen you I don't think I'll be scared of the supernatural now."
So I watched as maybe the most exciting thing that had ever happened to me flew out the window and disappeared over the houses. As they went out of sight my window and wall were magically fixed. "Thanks," I whispered. Then I climbed into bed and fell asleep for the second time that night.