Chapter II of Shadow, a work of fan fiction based on Christopher Paolini's InheritanceCycle.
Every week or so, a new chapter will be published, so stay on your toes for more!
Gïrnięn emerged from the hall, dressed in linen and satin. The parade began with the merry residents of Palancar Valley: skilled acrobats, stunt performers, and mere travelers who were curious of the goings on. Gïrnięn looked on at the jolly procession. Afterwards, came a couple of stunt acts. Finally, the most important part: Gïrnięn smoothed down his impatience as the heralds announced his arrival, not mentioning the countless other nobles of Palancar Valley.
"Gïrnięn Vadrensson, grandson of Roran Stronghammer, heir to Palancar Valley…"
Gïrnięn tuned out as the herald droned on and on. When the herald finished, he stepped onto the path laid out, walking along it in a perfectly composed manner. When he reached the end, he released his pent-up breath and waited for the other nobles to pass by.
"Ismira Katrinasdaughter, daughter of Roran Stronghammer, lady of Palancar Valley…"
Gïrnięn watched his mother proceed along the path, her velvet dress billowing around her. She was strong and stately, the perfect political figure. What everyone else didn't find were the way her eyes conveyed a worried feeling, the way her smile was so perfect it was superficial, the way her eyes lacked their usual laughter. Her copper locks billowed behind her, a result of her walking too quickly. She held her head higher than usual, Gïrnięn knew, to prevent it from drooping with worry. She reached the end of the path and stood there, her head held high.
Gïrnięn's father soon followed, his posture much more comfortable.
After all the nobles had finished walking the path, the moment arrived. The dragon eggs were taken down the path, where on both sides residents of Palancar Valley stood. The eggs were then placed on a raised stone altar. None of the eggs moved. The Riders would keep it there for an hour, then move on. This year the Rider hosting the parade was a tall elf, her cloak rippling across her slight frame. There were four dragon eggs, but the one that caught Gïrnięn's eye was a beautiful egg, a vibrant yellow, webbed with veins of bronze, amber, and gold. It was the color of sunshine, a beautiful sunglow. Gïrnięn decided that if he had a choice, he would choose that dragon as his companion. The other eggs, to Gïrnięn, were somewhat drab. One was a magenta egg, swirls of cerise and fuchsia dancing across it. Another was cyan, with blemishes of turquoise and cerulean dispersed on its glossy surface. The last egg was black, with streaks of silver and charcoal racing across its surface, along with beautiful pinpricks of pure white.
After the first forty-five minutes, most of the people had dispersed—they were no longer interested in the eggs. After another five minutes, Gïrnięn was left with only his parents and a few other curious nobles. Another five minutes, and it was just Gïrnięn and his family. During the final five minutes, the elf gave a slight nod of approval and gestured that they could leave. Gïrnięn, half disappointed, started to turn around when the dazzling yellow egg Gïrnięn had been admiring began to shake. It shook slowly at first, but then gained in speed. Tiny pinpricks of light shone through, eventually spreading into cracks. Finally, a small, wet thing looked up at Gïrnięn and spread its wings. Its scales were a radiant color, best described as somewhere between gold and sunglow. Its wings were a beautiful translucent amber, and its eyes were a deep, intelligent blue. It raised its head and touched Gïrnięn's hand. His palm glowed.
The elf approached, solemn.
"The gedwëy ignasia." Then she smiled. "Welcome, O Gïrnięn of the Riders."