A/N: The Inheritance Cycle was the first high fantasy books I read and as a result had a pretty big impact on me. Looking back, I can admit that those books might not have been the best, but I still love the characters and world they introduced me to.

I wrote this when I was twelve or thirteen (it is in fact my first work of fan fiction) and only rediscovered it now when I go going through my old story notes. Obviously it's not great. But I feel that it has potential. And reading it amused me so I thought 'why not share it and let it amuse someone else?'

Note that the barest amount of editing has been done. I apologize for the horribly clunky sentences.

Nasuada was not the young woman she once was, but she was still the queen she had always been. Though she would have given anything not to be queen at this moment. Twenty years of peace had lulled her into a sense of security. She had felt that the fighting was finally over. She was proud of the golden age she had helped usher in. But if Orrin's outburst at the Varden Council proved to be more than a drunken tirade – it might mean an end to that golden age.

The meeting had begun after its usual fashion. The elves accused the Urgals of cheating in the last Feat. There were five new riders; two elves, a human, a dwarf and an Urgal. The werecat slept throughout the entire meeting.

The suddenly Orrin burst out of his usual sullen brooding and began shouting manically. He said that the Varden was conspiring to cripple Surda's economy by forcing his country to participate in the rebellion against Galbatorix and the Empire. He accused them of withholding Surda's rightful share of the spoils after the war. This kind of tirade was not uncommon, but what he said next was.

"You think you can stop us. With your dragons and Riders and your thrice-blasted magic. But I have a weapon beyond your worst nightmares. A weapon even Galbatorix feared. When I have unleashed it no one will remember your names… and no one will forget mine. I will carve it into the very mountains of Alagaesia!"

The other council members dismissed his threats in light of his perpetual drunken state, but Nasuada knew that this was something else. It was that light – no, darkness in Orrin's eyes. As though all the good had been drained from his heart.

Shortly after the Battle of Urubaen, a notebook was discovered by one of the maids who worked in the castle. The notebook was written in Galbatorix's own hand and described all sorts of horrendous weapons and heinous tortures.

The maid had shown the notebook to her mother, a black-haired woman with scars on her wrists from years as a slave. Her mother had taken it directly to Nasuada.

Nasuada had wanted to destroy it immediately but the woman convinced her otherwise. Although the book was mostly concerned with weapons of destruction, it also contained cures, wards and… ways to guard against magic.

Nasuada couldn't resist. She could do so much good with that book. She kept it in a vault that was guarded by a dozen wards, locks and her trusted Nighthawks. The following morning however, the notebook was gone. Her guards had no memory of what had happened. More worrying still, the maid and her mother had also vanished.

Nasuada looked at the faces around her. She was friends with many of the council members and had fought alongside most of them during the war against Galbatorix. They trusted her enough to rule them and she knew that they would lay down their lives for her, yet she doubted they would believe her now.

She had always been a convincing speaker, but it was easy to convince people to fight an enemy they could see. It was much more difficult to convince them of a threat they thought did not exist. Especially if their only hope lay in someone who they did see as an enemy. But Nasuada was certain; Murtag was their best hope.

"Thank you all for coming so promptly. Usually I would have waited until our next monthly meeting, but this matter cannot wait that long," she said.

"Aye, your letter was very insistent. So what is this urgent matter that could not possibly wait until after my son's naming ceremony?" Orik asked. His scowl spoke of annoyance, but his eyes spoke of curiosity that was mirrored in the eyes of everyone at the table.

"Again, my apologies for keeping you from your family," Nasuada took a deep breath, "I have gathered you all together to discuss a reasonable course of action to address the matter of Orrin's threats against the Varden Council and Alagaesia."

"What is there to discuss? Orrin is a raging drunk and has been for years. He can barely keep his own country from financial ruin, let alone threaten us with a war. It would be a simply matter to have him removed from the throne. Why, the Surdans might even do it for us. Now unless you have something worthwhile to say, I have better things to do," Orik said, beginning to rise from the table.

"Just a moment, Orik. I have reason to believe that Orrin may have been telling the truth about the weapon he mentioned."

"And what reason would that be?" Arya asked. Until now she had merely been observing the whole affair over steepled fingers.

"Not long after the Battle of Urubaen, a notebook was discovered, written by Galbatorix himself. It described weapons of his own design. Many of them would be capable of the devastation Orrin spoke of. However, soon after its discovery the notebook went missing."

Nasuada refrained from mentioning her reasons for keeping the notebook as well as the maid and her mother.

"But this was twenty years ago! Why has this only been brought to our attention now?" Orik burst out.

"Peace, Orik," Arya interrupted him, "I am sure that Nasuada had her reasons for keeping the matter secret."

Although Arya's face and words betrayed no emotion, her slanted eyes were piercing. She no doubt suspected that Nasuada was hiding something.

"What do you propose? If Orrin's weapon is as capable as he claimed, I doubt even our best elves and Riders or even dragons could face him," she said.

"You cannot be serious. Arya, Orrin is a drunken fool. Even if this weapon of his does exist, he was probably exaggerating its capabilities," Orik said.

"I would rather be prepared for a viper than unprepared for a fly."

"Nar Gharzvog, what have you say upon the matter?" Orik asked, turning to the Urgal chief.

"Urgals are taught from childhood to expect a fight, even to seek it out. These past twenty years however, I have tried to teach my people peace. It has not been easy and I fear that if they were to get involved in another war they would not know how to stop. I am sorry, but I cannot risk them returning to their old ways."

And with that he rose and left.

"That Nar Gharzvog believes a war to be probable is enough cause for worry. Urgals have been known to accurately predict wars," said Arya's dragon, Firnen.

"Very well, Nasuada, tell us what you propose," Orik said resignedly.

"I propose that we send a search party to find Murtag and Thorn and bring them back to Alagaesia."

There was dead silence. Then Orik burst into a rapid stream of curses.

"Have you taken leave of your senses? Have you forgotten the havoc those two wreaked under Galbatorix – the people they killed, among them my uncle Hrothgar! These are the same two who kidnapped you! Or had you forgotten?"

"Believe me, I have not forgotten. I remember very well that it was Murtag and Thorn who kidnapped me. I also remember that they risked their lives to help us defeat Galbatorix and Shruikan. I remember that without them we would likely all be dead. Or worse."

Orik was silent, so Nasuada continued.

"I also know that Murtag is the only person close enough to Galbatorix to even know of the existence of the notebook and it is likely Galbatorix might have told him even more. I would not have resorted to this unless I was absolutely sure that it was necessary.

I have known Orrin since childhood. He used to be gentle, if a little eccentric, but now… I fear he is lost to all reason. He will certainly do his best to destroy us and blast me if I just stand by and let him."

Orik stared at Nasuada in silence. Then he rose to his feet and said, "I agree that something must be done about Orrin, but the other dwarves would never support Thorn and Murtag's return. If I were to be seen in support of this venture, I would lose the support of the clans and then you would lose the support of the dwarves as a whole. I am sorry Nasuada."

And then he too left. Nasuada turned to Arya and Firnen.

"What say you? Are you also unable to support this venture?"

"Elves are not as stubborn as dwarves or humans, but we have long memories and neither do we forget easily. Murtag killed Oromis and Thorn killed Glaedur. True, they were under Galbatorix's control, but since they did not stay to face judgement many elves believe that they acted – at least in part – of their own will."

"Do you believe that?"

"No, but I do not know whether Thorn and Murtag will be willing to help us either."

"They have before."

"Yes, but before they had no choice but to help."

"There is always a choice," Nasuada said quietly, more to herself than to Arya and Firnen.

"Still, even if they would be willing to come, we might not be able to find them."

Firnen was quick enough to catch the slightly guilty look that passed over Nasuada's face.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I have an idea that might help us find them, but I will need your permission."

Arya could feel her insides writhing like snakes. Whatever Nasuada needed her permission for, she did not think she was going to like it.

"I need to borrow Elva."

She was right; she did not like this idea at all.

"Absolutely not," Arya said, "after that incident in Belatona we agreed to keep her in Du Weldenvarden until we were sure that she would not do it again. I would sooner send a Shade to find Murtag and Thorn. And goodness knows Elva is more dangerous than any Shade in recorded history. We cannot simply let her wander free."

"I am not suggesting that we send her alone."

"And who do we send with her? An Urgal? An elf? A spellcaster? No one's mind is safe from her. I will not risk the lives of any of my people."

"You forget there is one person who is unaffected by Elva's ability."

"Angela?"

Nasuada nodded.

"You make a good argument, Nasuada. But Angela is unpredictable. I trust her not to do anything evil or foolish, but what she does might not be what we want her to do."

"Yes, but you have just admitted it yourself – we can trust her to do the right thing. Even if it is not what we want."

"Do you think she will agree to go with Elva?"

"She might if she thought it would be interesting."

Arya grimaced. Angela had a strange definition of 'interesting'.

Elva sat on top of the wall of the compound that housed the training hall of the dragons and Riders. Arya and Nasuada had decided that it would be good for Elva to be trained with the other Riders and dragons. They thought that learning to control her abilities might help her find purpose. At least it might distract her enough to keep her out of trouble.

"Elva! Really, my morning plans do not include cleaning your remains from the cobblestones. If you're going to climb walls at least choose the eastern one. You'll only break a bone there."

Elva sighed. Angela always seemed to know exactly where she was, especially when she was doing something she was not supposed to.

"What do you want?" Elva asked.

"Oh, a great many things. Starting with you coming down and ending with new knitting needles. But I doubt that's what you actually meant. Nasuada and Arya are here to speak to you."

"What about?"

"Despite what you may think, I do not know everything."

"So you don't know?"

Angela smiled mischieviously.

"I never said that. This secret you'll have to come down and discover for yourself though."

Ismira stood perfectly still, facing her opponent, a twenty-year-old Kull. She knew from experience that this particular Kull was as strong as an elf and did not tire easily. She also knew that it was nearly impossible to get under his guard because he liked to swing wide. But she also knew his weakness.

'Have you no shame?' Hatchling asked.

'All is fair in love and war,' she replied to her dragon.

Hatchling's voice coloured with amusement.

'And pray tell, which is this?'

'Both.'

This exchange took all of two seconds, still it was enough to make the Kull suspicious.

Without further hestitation, Ismira stepped forward. Her opponent did likewise. She struck on his left side. He parried easily from the right, just as she expected. His injury from last week was yet healed. Usually he used his left hand, but last week Ismira had stabbed him in his left forearm. He could have asked someone to heal it or done it himself, but he had not. Urgals were proud of their scars and injuries and to speed the healing of a wound was seen as disgraceful.

She could use his injury to her advantage, but she knew it would not be enough to win her the fight. What she needed was a clear shot at the base of his skull to knock him out. And she could think of only one way to accomplish that.

'Remember, it has to look real.'

'I know.'

The next time the Kull swung his sword, it hit the side of her helm and she fell.

She did not move.

Cautiously, the Urgal approached her.

Just when he bent down next to her, she jumped up and brought down the flat of her blade on the base of his skull. He instantly fell down.

All around her, her classmates erupted into cheers. Even her instructor, Drottning Arya, clapped in acknowledgement.

The Kull, Uluthrek, came to, waving away the elven medic who tried to heal him.

Ismira offered him her hand and he took it, smiling.

"Good fight," he said, "Though I won't fall for that trick twice."

Ismira laughed. "Consider it payback for last week when you pushed me into the creek."

"That was unintentional," he protested. His nose crinkled in the most endearing way when he was flustered and Ismira had to fight the temptation to kiss him.

"You oaf," she said fondly.

"Ismira!" Arya called, "please come here I wish to speak to you."

Ismira bid farewell to Uluthrek and followed Arya along one of Ellesmera's many walkways.

"You and Uluthrek seem fond of each other," Arya remarked.

Ismira began to object but then she realised it was no use. Denial would only confirm Arya's suspicion. So she simply nodded.

"Does your father know?"

Ismira lowered her head.

"No," she said quietly, "I haven't the courage to tell him."

"Why not?"

"My father is… well, he's a farmer from Carvahall. And he's been trying to find me a husband from Carvahall ever since my sixteenth birthday. I doubt he would be pleased to find out I was betrothed to an Urgal."

"Remember your father is not just a farmer from Carvahall. He is also a warrior who fought hard to make sure that you and your mother have a home where you can live in peace. He might not be as prejudiced as you think.

But there is a different matter that I need to discuss with you. There will be a meeting tonight which you and Hatchling must attend. I will be there as well as Queen Nasuada, Angela the herbalist and Elva."

Ismira nodded. She was not sure how she was supposed to react.

'Why would she invite us to a meeting with Queen Nasuada?' asked Hatchling.

'And Elva. That girl gives me the creeps.'

'Me too.'

"We'll be there, Drottning Arya."

"Have you taken leave of your senses?!" Ismira exclaimed.

"Ismira!" Arya chided.

"With respect, Queen Nasuada," Ismira added, looking slightly more subdued.

"I fail to see how any part of that emotive exclamation was respectful. It seems you have inherited your father's talent for blatant disregard of decorum," Nasuada said, fighting to control the smile that threatened to show her amusement, "But to answer your question; no I am not mad. I believe that finding Murtag is our most viable option at present. If you have any helpful alternatives to suggest now would be a good time to share them."

Ismira said nothing.

"I thought as much. Now, I have already spoken to some of the Eldunari. They think that they might be able to find Murtag and Thorn's location. More or less."

'How much is more or less?' Hatchling asked.

"There is a margin of error of a hundred leagues."

"That is as large as Du Weldenvarden! We could search for years and never find them!"

"Well, if the task were easy I could have sent anyone."

'But why send us?' Ismira asked Hatchling.

'If you think about it, it makes sense. You're one of the most skilled Riders in Ellesmera.'

'And you surpass all the other dragons in tracking lessons.'

'But why Angela and Elva?'

'Angela makes sense if they're sending Elva. She never goes anywhere without Angela.'

'But why send Elva?'

Hatchling and Ismira felt a third mind join their conversation. The presence felt strange and unlike anything that they had encountered. They tried to fight it, but it had already circumvented their mental barriers.

'Sorry,' although the mental voice sounded mocking and not at all sorry, 'but I couldn't help but overhear your conversation. The answer to your question is simple. Nasuada is sending me because I can force Murtag and Thorn to return if they do not do so of their own free will.'

And just as soon as it appeared, the presence vanished.

Ismira looked at Elva, horrified. Usually she was good at defending herself from mental attacks, but Elva had been able to break through her and Hatchling's combined mental wards with no apparent effort.

'As easily as a child knocking over wooden blocks.'

'Shouldn't we rather withdraw into our own minds for the time being?'

'She could break through them just as easily.'

'True. Do you think she hates us?'

Hatchling looked at Elva. At first glance she looked as innocent and harmless as a newly hatched dragon. But her eyes… her eyes were as malignant as a Ra'zac's.

'I think she hates everyone.'

A/N: If you've made it this far - wow! You're amazing.

Like I said, this story is not great. I will be the first to admit it. But I think it might actually go somewhere. Unfortunately, I already have a bunch of other stories I'm working on so I have no idea when I will update this.

If you're curious about what else I had planned for the story feel free to leave a comment or send me a message on Tumblr (same username).

May you have a wonderful day. God bless.