Eragon sat at the kitchen table in his uncle's house, rubbing the palm with which he'd touched the egg and shuddered remembering how it'd felt. The feeling was nothing, however, compared to how it felt when he'd first touched the dragon. A blast of icy energy had surged up his arm burning in his veins like liquid fire, he had fallen to the ground crying out, and his whole body had spasmed wildly for a few seconds and then he'd become numb and cold, unable to move. After what seemed like hours, warmth had seeped back to his body but his right hand was still unfeeling. Alarmed, he'd rubbed his hand a bit before trying to twitch it, but it remained still.

He had seen the dragon coming towards him again, its snout almost touching his side and panicked. He DID NOT want to touch it once more. He'd gotten up from the forest floor and ran away from it and hadn't stopped until he'd reached the edge of the spine. For a second, he'd felt the insane urge to turn back and return, but he pushed it down, he was not willing to become dragon food. From there, he'd walked all the way to his home.

The house had a shingled roof and a brick chimney. Eaves hung over the whitewashed walls shadowing the ground below. One side of the enclosed porch was filled with split would, ready for the fire. A jumble of farm tools cluttered the other side.

His uncle Garrow had opened the door. He'd walked in, sat down at the kitchen table and told him everything, and now his uncle was looking at him in a calculating manner.

"Maybe you're mistaken?" His uncle asked him.

"I know it was a dragon as sure as I know the sun rises from the East. I'd sooner believe my name isn't eragon than doubt my eyes this once. Besides I can prove it to you."

Eragon held out his right hand, 5 hours had passed but he still couldn't move his fingers, the wrist was perfectly fine now so he figured he would be alright soon. He showed Garrow the shining symbol on his palm. It was shaped like a curled dragon, the fact further reinforcing his belief.

Garrows gasped "So it is true."

-He had whispered in such a low voice that eragon barely heard it.

Perturbed, he asked, "What do you mean uncle?"

Garrow's head snapped towards him suddenly and he grabbed Eragons shoulder.

"Where is the dragon? Take me to it."

Eragon had lived with Garrow for 14 years, a year shorter than he had lived and never in all his life had he seen Garrow sound so urgent, he was almost desperate. This scared him, because Garrow was a rock. Nothing ever fazed him.

"It's in a clearing deep inside the spine, but its probably gone for good, its been hours since I left it there. Besides its dangerous, when I touched it..." Eragon shuddered

Garrow looked at me incredulously, "Gone for good? Don't you know anything about dragon riders? That dragon chose you to be its rider! Of course it'll shock you the first time you touch it, that's how riders and their dragons bond. The Mark on your palm is an embodiment of the agreement made between humans, elves and dragons centuries ago!"

Eragon blinked, he'd never known Garrow studied history.

Someone knocked on the main door loudly and both of them started. Garrow grunted pointing towards the door with his head. Eragon peered out the window and was surprised when he saw it was Brom, the storyteller from Carvahall, and opened the door.

"Lad where's your uncle I must speak with him immediately."

"Brom I know." Garrow said his voice sounding tired.

Eragon stared at them with a strange expression on his face. Nothing was making sense today.

Brom looked at Garrow for a second then turned to Eragon.

Tilting his head towards the door, he said, "Lad I'm not sure if I tied my horse properly."

Eragon wanted to protest, he had a suspicion they wanted him gone so he wouldn't hear what they were saying. Not showing his discomfort, he obeyed.

Guest's usually tied their horses to an elm tree a good 50 feet from the house, but he didn't see any horse. Maybe Brom had tied him to the fence near the barn behind his house? Frowning, he went to the barn, but there was no sign of any horse. He went back towards the house puzzled and stopped incredulity etched into his face. In front of his home, sitting on the front step, was the dragon.