Inheritance Cycle 1. Lost And Found

Another

Chapter1: Lost And Found

The wind hissed through the branches, casting demonic shadows upon the moonlit forest trail. The lofty claws of the trees moaned in agony as the incessant breaths of nature tormented them. A lone figure traversed this desolate path, long unused by all but the dead vines which now clung for dear life to the walkway. The youth's dark hair flitted slightly at the invisible hands of the elements, his thick brows furrowed in worry. There was something wrong with this forest…something terribly, terribly not _right_ with the ancient, dead, trees that cried and sobbed into the wind's cold shoulder.

The traveler shivered in the arctic temperatures of the forest, his brown eyes slithering over the horrible talons of the vandalized trees. The gray ghost of his breath puffed steadily from his mouth, floating to the heavens like a disembodied soul. Again the youth shivered. If it were a disembodied soul…it would be _his_.

_Saphira…where _are_ you?_ He reached out with his consciousness once more, but again was met with nothing. She was much too far away. Eragon had known that she was nowhere within his range. There was _nothing_ in his range…which was why this forest was wrong. There should be at least a hibernating fly, or a starved deer in its vicinity. But he was the only creature that dared this forsaken place of desolation. Even the trees seemed forlorn, twisted into many decrepit forms. The wind increased its howling for an instant, tossing the Rider's hair carelessly as it blew past, but then it was calm again, resuming its curious caresses on his tresses.

_That presence!_ Cried the youth within his mind, he could sense something now, it was almost twenty feet ahead of him. But he knew it wasn't Saphira, though it was both like and unlike his currently lost companion. This presence was more and less distinguished. It fit well into the decaying forest, even from here Eragon could feel that it was dying, but it had an air of…well, oldness was the only word he could think of, but that did nott even begin to cover it. He had been in the mind of an Elf, and felt the uncounted years of her life, but this presence, he wasn't even trying to breach it, and already he could feel the powerful _age_ that radiated from it.

The Rider picked up his pace, maybe it could help him, maybe it knew the way out. Anything that ancient had to know _something._ Eragon skidded to a stop before a mountain of glimmering gems. Slowly he circled around the immense back, taking in the chipped and broken spikes along it's spine. Slowly it began to dawn on Eragon that these decrepit ivory spines were extremely in the like those of Saphira, only on a much-much larger scale. As the Rider came closer to the immense head, he could hear the labored wheezing of the dragon before him, for he was sure now that it was such a beast. A deep rumble reverberated through the earth as he came into sight of its glistening viridian eyes, and he froze.

Tentitivley he reached out with his consciousness, and finding no barrier continued inward.

_I have been waiting for you, child._ A deep tendril of thought wrapped around him, almost suffocating him with its weight. This creature…how old could it be? Its very thoughts were stagnant with age, and heavy with knowledge.

_Who are you? What are you?_ He was aware how youthful and ignorant he truly was in the face of such a creature.

_Who I am is trivial, it is who you are that is important, child._ The decay showed in the thoughts of this creature, but it did nothing to lighten them.

_You are dying._ He had not accounted for the regret he felt, after all, he did not even know this creature, and here he felt as if its death would end everything he held near and dear to himself.

_I am. But there is no time._ The wheezing ceased for a moment, and Eragon thought for one horrified second that this magnificent being had joined Brom in the world of the deceased. _I have called you into my forest for a reason, child._ At these leaden tendrils the beast lifted its immense head, revealing beneath it a single jewel-like draconian egg. _You have questions, but please do not ask them. I have time enough only to give you the last of the Wild One's eggs. She would have wanted you to have it. Take it to those who will fell the one responsible for our demise. _Eragon swallowed hard before taking careful steps toward the immense beast, who's head alone outweighed him by at least five hundred pounds.

_I'm sorry…_Was the only thing he could think as his gloved hands closed around the surprisingly warm egg. With sudden a sudden protectiveness to him, he opened his vest and placed it within.

_Child, Eragon, you and the young-one Saphira are the last hope of the dragon's survival. Raise this one with care, let her and Saphira forge a new history for the draconian race…_

With those words the ancient beast laid its head down and swiftly passed out of the mortal realm, the light in its viridian eyes dulled, and the beast lidded them with great effort. Muscles loosened and a small amount of smoke escaped the nostrils, rising to the heavens, much like his breath had. Only this time Eragon knew, this _was_ a soul. A soul more ancient than any other he had ever come into contact with.

The Rider could feel it within him, the bubbling of utter torment that came with the death of one close to you, and for the first time since Brom's death, he grieved. He grieved as he did for Brom, and it was not just the newly deceased dragon that he mourned, it was the entire proud, elegant race that had been decimated by the evil hands of Galbatorix. Eragon had never known before then what true hatred had felt like, it was a writhing beast within his chest, clawing at his heart, hammering against his ribs as if to break free, burning his throat as salty tears slid over his lids and down his face.

Galbatorix would pay dearly.

Author's Note:

This is my first Eragon Fic, as always I have NO idea where I'm going with it, but rest assured, it shall go somewhere. Feel free to flame me, it does get mighty cold here in November, and also feel free to criticize me. But most of all, I'd appreciate it if you told me your opinions on this chapter. But, whether you review or not, I'll likely post more to it…eventually…


	2. Emerged

Another

Chapter 2: Emerged

The Outside had changed…

The fetus shifted slightly, there was something different…unusual…_right._ Her instincts cried out for her to hatch, and to do so soon, before the outside shifted once more, and she was trapped within the shell for another thousand years. The infantile dragon pushed against the now pulsating layer of her prison, eager to be out. A hush fell upon the world outside her walls, but that feeling of rightness was still there, it had stopped receding and now stood as still as everywhere else.

Slowly, painstakingly, the infant pushed her nose out of the shell, growing impatient very quickly and snapping her wings open, shattering the shell and sending splinters off, into a crowd of foreign beings. Her dark hide cast purple shadows in the lamplight, and she scanned for the one she sought. The rightness was still here, but where? A creature close to her attempted to bend and touch her, but she backed away fearfully, he was not the rightness. She was glad when he stopped and stood back up, an air of sadness radiating from him.

The infant ignored it, crooning slightly before picking its wings up and attempting to weave its way through the frozen crowd. At last she sighted it, the source of the right. He was smaller than those around him, but that did not deter her, she knew that they were meant for one another. Curiously she sniffed at the dwarf, her dark eyes glistening in anticipation. The dwarf reached out for her, and gently laid a palm against her wing, only for an abrupt flash of _something_ to shoot through her and into him. He withdrew swiftly, clutching his hand as if it had been burned. The dragonet snorted derisively before settling on its haunches and proceeding to clean the goop off its wings.

Rightness had been achieved.

Change in perspective… 

Orik froze when he met the eyes of the infant, he couldn't believe what was happening. He was a _dwarf_ didn't this beast know that? Did it matter? It had chosen him out of all the other thousands of people in this room, chosen him over even a young elf in his prime! Disbelief etched itself in his eyes as he reached out slowly, giving the dragon a chance to reject him. It stood, impassive, gazing up at him with expectancy, as if he had the power to right all the wrongs in the world. The dwarf's right palm came to rest on the membrane, only for a pain like fire to shoot through his arm.

The dwarf recoiled, holding his singed hand. A glare slipped upon his features as he watched the amazing creature plop itself on its arse and begin to clean the goop from its skin as if the world couldn't get any more peaceful! His glare softened, however, as the small creature gazed back into his eyes, and he felt a clawing hunger clutch at his mind.

"I believe it wants to be fed." He heard the boy's voice but couldn't manage to look at him, only nodding at his fellow Rider's comment. The dragoness Saphira lowered her muzzle to sniff at the dragonet, which gaze fearlessly back at its elder, wrinkling its own, much smaller and darker nose curiously.

Eragon laughed as if something witty had been said, and shook his head slightly, Saphira glared at her rider briefly before snorting an indignant puff of smoke and turning away from the infant.

This promised to get very interesting _very_ quickly.


	3. Viollette

Another

Chapter3:

Orik glared into the shadows, slinking ever-so-quietly and ever-so-slowly through the corridor. It was deathly quiet...conspiracy quiet. The dwarf let out a disgruntled grunt and shook his head. He had known that him being a rider would stir up contraversy, but had not expected his own kind to turn against and ostracize him. Even the elves seemed awkward in their greetings, though he had never been on bad terms with them, it was clear that neither now was he on good ground. Worst of all was the more youthful elves, scornful and envious of what Orik had been honored with.

There. Out of the corner of his eye, he had caught a glint of deep violet glinting in the nealry non-existant light. Despite his sour mood the dwarf could not help but smirk at the antics of his newfound companion. Though she had undoubtedly allowed herself to be seen, if only to add an air of excitement to her 'hunt.' Orik turned toward the barely discernable form in the shadows, and caught a glint of deep blue flashing amusedly from the darkness.

"Now, Vi, come out of there." Grunted the dwarf, though he was loath to put an end to her terribly hilarious antics. As was usual when he ordered her to stop something she was enjoying, he was ignored. Orik sighed in slight irritation but continued forward, feeling her anticipation build, he could almost hear her tendons tightening...

"So its true then, is it?" An unfamiliar voice growled from the other side of the corridor. Slightly startled Orik turned toward the voice, narrowing his eyes suspicously as a young elf male made his way ridgedly toward the dwarf.

"The latest rider is naught but a lowly dwarf?" The elf's eyes narrowed to amber slits as his fair face contorted with unbridled rage. "How dare you steal such an oppurtunity from my kind." He siezed the elf by the front of his shirt, only for a deafening roar to reverberate through the corridor and a deep violet, shimmering hide to launch itself through the air and knock the offensive elf to the stone floor.

Viollette's fangs were parted in a terrible snarl, inches from the elf's throat. Her eyes, so much like Saphira's Orik realized, held an anger that far outweighed any emotion a mortal should ever witness. Angrily her tail lashed, her wings mantled, the dragoness snarled and snapped her jaws near the perpetrator's face when he attempted to move.

Orik watched as the youth's face contorted in horror, and could only imagine the threats his fiery companion was hissing in his mind.

"Vi, leave him be." The dwarf let a stern note of dissaproval creep into his voice, and Viollette lowered her head and wings, turning to face her lifetime partner and releiving her weight from the interloper's chest. She growled one last time for good measure, before following her companion.

One month. Thats all it had been since she had hatched, and yet even now she was larger than Orik himself, large enough to provide a steed through these corridors if he so wished to ride her. Vi, herself had not had any qualms with the idea, but Orik remembered the scars upon young Eragon's legs from his first mishap with Saphira's scales, and had decided to wait until a proper saddle could be fashioned.

The dwarf rested his hand gently upon the dragoness' nose, and the anger he felt on her side of their connection ebbed away, replaced with a releif and a contentment.

_I worry for you. _She stated, her eyes filled with such a forlorn emotion that Orik had to look away. Truth be told he worried for her as well, but knew that it was ridiculus for him to do so. Galbatorix knew nothing of Viollette, and it would stay that way for awhile yet, until he and Viollette were ready to fight a war.

He let his eyes wander over the sleek shimmering hide of his companion, and heaved an inward sigh. He would never understand how Eragon could risk Saphira in such fierce escapades, valuable as a warrior as she may be, such a threat and such stress...it must be utter torment.

Slowly the dwarf's hand slid down the side of the dragoness' hard scales and he smiled at her.

"You shouldn't worry, we'll be fine." Both knew who he was trying to convince, but the walk continued in silence, nonetheless.

A/N

Yeah so I'm experimenting with character-ness. Developing them, you know, its comming along slowly though. I hope this chapter came out ok, its the first time i've felt like updating/writing in a long time...please review and tell me if i should even bother continuing this story...


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