Chapter III of Shadow, a work of fan fiction based on Christopher Paolini's Inheritance Cycle.
Every week or so, a new chapter will be published, so stay on your toes for more!
By the way, Thorn's title is "Bloodbiter", and Fírnen's title is "Leafwing"
"All four have hatched, yes." Firnæ reported to a burly Urgal standing at the gate.
Gïrnięn sighed as Firnæ, the elf who had facilitated the parade reported to the sentry. The elf Jinaë had caused the magenta egg to hatch, the dwarf Orœthmis had claimed the cyan egg, and the Urgal Ÿreven had hatched the black egg. Jinaë was about as friendly as a Lethrblaka, Orœthmis seemed to pay as much attention to Gïrnięn as he would to a cloud, and Ÿreven's incessant boasting drove Gïrnięn crazy because he couldn't understand a word.
Firnæ finally got them inside the gate. After a week's travel on a ship, Gïrnięn still couldn't walk without wobbling, and Orœthmis was even worse off. The four of them shuffled inside the gate, ignoring each other. Had Gïrnięn mentioned the smell of carrion that still clung to Ÿreven, even after about five swims, he would've been pummeled. So he shut his mouth.
The hatchling had not had any way to communicate with him thus far, though she had grown slightly. Gïrnięn had spent the past week thinking about a suitable name for the hatchling. He had thought of a few, including Aureolin, Aurora, Aura, Amber, and Heliolampsh, but those were quite ordinary. Gïrnięn still had not thought of a good name. Gïrnięn was lost in thought when a voice spoke to him.
"Well, Gïrnięn?"
Gïrnięn looked up. A stout dwarf stood in front of him. The dwarf's flame-red beard caught Gïrnięn's attention. The dwarf looked at him.
"So you are the new recruit?"
Gïrnięn nodded.
"And you cannot even name the three Rider-Dragon pairs that, when channeling their energies together, change the fabric of magic? Have you never heard of the Rider Trinity?"
Gïrnięn was about to speak, but the dwarf cut him off.
"Eragon Shadeslayer-Saphira Bjartskular, Murtagh Kingkiller-Thorn Blödbitr, and Arya Dröttning-Firnen Laufvaengr. Don't they teach this anymore?"
As the timeworn dwarf seethed on and on about the education system, Orœthmis shook his head and stroked his hatchling, a beautiful cyan creature with scales that sparkled and shimmered. Patches of white rippled across his scales like clouds on a blue sky. The pale, icy blue eyes shimmered. Meanwhile, Jinaë telepathically spoke to her hatchling, the only one among who knew how to do so. Gïrnięn had heard Jinaë speak out loud while trying to teach her dragon to respond to verbal sounds. Jinaë had spoken to her reverently, and named her Chrosiuä. Chrosiuä had magenta scales stretching all over her gangly frame, with pink dappling her scales. Ÿreven kept glancing at his black hatchling, dappled with white spots like stars on a dark night.
An elf stepped out of the trees. His brown eyes were sharp and focused on Gïrnięn.
"Gïrnięn, Ÿreven, Jinaë, and Orœthmis." He spoke to each of them in turn, in their native languages. "I am Eragon Shadeslayer".
Gïrnięn squinted at the elf—that couldn't be right. His grandfather, Roran Stronghammer, was a human, yet this self-proclaimed Eragon, who should've been his grandfather's brother, was an elf. And a young elf, too. His grandfather was sixty and slightly senile. This elf was young, graceful, and wise beyond his years. Apparently Eragon found something interesting about Gïrnięn, because he squinted inquisitively at Gïrnięn.
"Tell me, Gïrnięn, who is your mother?"
"The Lady Ismira."
"Ah, so Roran is your grandfather. I should have known." Eragon nodded "And how is Roran doing? And Katrina?"
Gïrnięn desperately wanted to say," Grandfather's sixty and senile, while grandmother is long gone.", but he bit his tongue and instead choked out "They're fine."
Eragon studied Gïrnięn closely. "You can tell me the truth now, Gïrnięn." His tone was gentle but firm.
Gïrnięn shivered. How did this elf know he was lying? "Grandmother's dead, and Grandfather's gone insane because of it." Without realizing it, Gïrnięn's tone had become sarcastic.
Eragon sighed. "Roran… Of course, only Katrina could do this to him. Not even the Ra'zac, or the loss of Carvahall… Tis what all mortals fall prey to: loss." Eragon shook his head.
After Eragon had a little chat with the others, he beckoned over a slight elf. "Borges will take you on a tour of our island. Tomorrow we begin our lessons. But before we start, I'm going to tell you something…"
And so, in each of their native languages, Eragon told them how to speak telepathically with their dragon and how to shield their minds. After the tour, Gïrnięn engaged in a conversation with his dragon.
Umm… hello?
Greetings to you, Gïrnięn. The dragon replied.
What should I call you?
Ah, a name… I had been pondering over a few, but I believe that I would like to be acknowledged as Cïtirinus.
Cïtirinus… So you are male, then.
Yes.
Well, Cïtirinus, Gïrnięn smiled. Welcome to the world.