Inheritance Cycle 1. A vicious circle

**Hi, this is my new story. I know it's not the one I wanted to post, but what can I say? This popped up on m mum's computer, so I must have written it already, and I thought I should post it. Tell me how I did, okay?**

Morzan was strong. He was fast. He was relatively handsome. He was powerful.

But the simple truth was, Morzan Jacobsson was a bully. He lived in Belatona, the City of Wonders, was big for his age and had a body that resembled nothing more than a healthy Urgal ram. The perfect build for hurting his classmates. And how he enjoyed his advantage. During school hours, he would amuse himself by grabbing hold of his unfortunate desk-neighbor's ear and twisting 'till the poor boy squealed in pain, or flicking balls of iron he had stolen from his father's smithy at any child foolish enough to look at him. Nearer evening, when all the youths of the city were out swimming in Leona Lake, he would hold them under water until their faces were purple. Nothing gave Morzan more joy than seeing his classmates run from him as he ran from his father, watching them cower, helpless as rabbits under the hunter's shadow, as he beat them the way his father did him. He derived pleasure like no other than that. Acting the bully was the only thing in Morzan Jacobsson's life.

Until, that is, the elf courier came bearing the dark, sinister scarlet dragon egg.

Morzan's world faded for a few seconds, and the floor was unsteady around him. Then he lashed out at all the others in his way as he scrambled to the queue. He wanted the egg. He wanted to be the Rider. He loved that Dragon Egg; it was his favorite color. A deep crimson. The dragon egg was the color of blood.

**So, how'd I do? I know I failed BIG, but I appreciate you telling me anyways.**

**Yup!**


	2. You will suffer, father

**I know this is a really short chapter, sorry! It would have been longer, but I was pressed for time (again) so I had to split it where I did and change the chapter name. I hope this explains some things about Morzan…**

Morzan knew, when he saw the egg, that it would hatch for him. That it would be a kindred spirit. That it would understand the reason for his treatment of the other children. And, most of all, that, with his new companion, he could revenge himself upon his father. And after that…

He would be escorted to the elves, where he would make a group of true friends, he would learn the secret to the Riders' strength, be taught in their ways. He would find another Rider just like him, and together, they would rise to levels of strength never seen before, and they would be named Head Riders, exceeding Vrael, the current leader…

_Stop it, Morzan. You're letting your imagination get the better of you. Again._

For it was true. Morzan cringed at the torrent of memories that flashed across his line of sight. Memories that Morzan hated. Memories that he had spent years wrestling into the deepest corners of his mind, tried to ignore.

They were the events that had played the most important role in making Morzan the bully he was.

It this, the most helpless of states, trapped by his own past, one, horrible part of his life burst into his mind.

_Flashback_

_A boy of perhaps twelve stood in the entrance to Belatona's smithy. He had one clear blue eye and one deep black one, straight black hair and a strong, muscular body, even at his tender age. He was watching his father work. As cruel as the man was to him,, Morzan Jacobsson admired the burly smith. The man suddenly seemed to realize his son's presence and glanced up._

"_I s'pose ye want te run the smithy one day soon," Morzan's father remarked in a rough, heavy accent. Morzan looked directly at the smith and nodded slowly, hopefully._

_Maybe his father would be kinder to him now. Maybe he would teach his son the family trade. Maybe they would settle down as the family they had not been since Morzan's mother had died. Maybe…Morzan's hopes were shattered the next moment._

"_Fat chance, you thievin' vermin! One o' the village lads'll do it for me an' you can clear up after them like ye do now! Now get outta my sight before I beat you black an' blue!" came the roared reply. Morzan scurried out of sight, head down, trying to contain or at least hide the tears that were threatening to stream down his face in a waterfall of sorrow._

_Flashback end._

Morzan strode to the back of the queue of older boys and girls, casually striking the heads of any children his age or younger stupid enough to get in line. One thought thrummed in his head: _You will suffer, father._

**So, had some things to say… I think he's really cool because he has reviewed both my GOOD stories, sooo…what virtual item should I send you?**

**Now I'll answer you. Yes, that was the plan at first…But I prefer him this way…You see, he is true to himself the whole way through, which is what his dragon values most in a person. To quote Eragon talking about the Urgals: 'At least they are true to who they are, which is more than most humans can claim.' Because this is so rare, his dragon chooses the first person to have that, in it's impatient hatchling thoughts. And my plan is that Morzan begins to change for the better, but then, Galbatorix voices a complait he himself has: That the elves are controlling the human Riders. His as yet unstable better self crumbles again and…You know the rest. You'll see the rest of the rough plan later. Happy? And Morzan does have good qualities, but his position is one where they don't show so much. Only his dragon senses them, although they are hinted at in my flashback. Tell me how I did again, please?**


	3. Joined minds, alien thoughts

**Okay, so I'm back! Sorry this is so short. It's the other half of the chapter before this, so… Yeah. Anywho, its nice being back. With MY laptop. So… You know. I doubt you really want to read this… So I'll stop now. After all, you're not here to listen to me rambling, but to read the story!**

Morzan almost couldn't bear to admit it, but that one memory still tormented him, almost three years later. He was still raw from that event, and he had loved his father. Until that day. Morzan was still wounded, and his throat burned for revenge. He wanted to make his father feel the pain he had inflicted. Hurting the other children was no longer enough for him. No, now he wanted revenge, then to prove he was better. Better than his father, better than the children, better than his image. He wanted to grow outside his boundaries.

The line dwindled. Soon, Morzan was in the front of the queue. Still the egg had not hatched, and all around were disappointed fifteen-year olds, up to seventeen-year olds, and children as young as ten were crying because the egg had not hatched for them.

A dragon Rider was standing nearby, listening to the egg's thoughts to see if it showed any reaction to the people that touched it. He was the only person present who did not wear a sceptical expression as Morzan reached for the egg.

Morzan was hurt by their distrust. He knew he deserved it, but he thought they might have at least a little faith in him. After all, he had moaned with everyone else when each older child failed. Not out of disappointment, only to prove his point. Now, however, he decided, he would live up to his reputation.

_I can only be what the people make me._

He reached out arrogantly, snatched the egg from the elf courier's arms. The egg did not hatch. Concealing his anger, he made to hand the elf the egg again. Then-

"Wait." The audience gasped. The Rider took no notice and continued. "A positive reaction to your touch. The dragon has undeniably chosen you." A ripple of frustration ran through the crowd. Morzan knew what they were thinking. "Touch it again." The Rider commanded. Morzan obeyed. Rifts began forming in the egg, and it started squeaking like a frightened mouse. The cracks grew and multiplied until a tail poked out.

_Odd. I though the head came first._

The tail was spiked, muscled even though the dragon had yet to leave its egg. Its legs followed it. Finally, all that was left inside was the head. Morzan looked at the dragon. _His_ dragon. Overwhelming emotion filled him as he gently reached out to lift the egg of the dragon's head. The creature made him feel special somehow. It made him feel wanted, more than he had ever felt in years. Truly, there was one word to describe what Morzan felt. He felt_ right._

_This is right._

The thought was not his own.

**Hi again! Looking forward to being answered? Good!**

**R.S.: Yeah, you know me. I'm that nutter from AWM. Anywho, I'll answer you now. Yes, that's from his dragon… I thought it fit. And that flashback…. See some good qualities in him yet? I'm great at being evil to my characters, aren't I? It runs in the family.**

**N.I.N.: Poor Morzan, I know.**

**Candy kisses: Uh… I DID update… Twice… just saying.**

**Unique: Thanks.**

**Massa: He does… But you know… They don't come out properly yet due to his father. And please do read. I'm a fanatic for reviews! **

**Sorry again that this is so short!**


	4. Forever

**I, uh… I… *insert totally unbelievable excuse here*! Anyway, I apologize for the shortness of this chapter, but I had severe writer's block and decided to post it as it was… You know, so something happens. I guess you've been waiting so long; you just want to read the chapter…**

Morzan looked at his dragon, thinking that it had to be given a name.

_What kind of name does one give a dragon, anyway?_

Morzan wouldn't know. He decided to just call his dragon 'hatchling' until he knew if it was a girl or a boy. He stared for a moment or two more, then was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder.

"Touch the hatchling. Go on." The elder rider urged. Morzan glanced at him suspiciously, but did what he said. His hand reached out, and the dragon looked at the object.

"Go on," came a voice from behind him. Morzan hesitated, but it was too late; the hatchling had pushed its snout forwards.

They made contact. Pain erupted in Morzan's right hand. The fire was spreading through his body, and Morzan knew he was going to die. The agony was too much for a mortal, even one like him. His great strength would not help him now, and all he could do was try to end it quickly. The burning had reached the rest of his body, and it seared through his veins. Death was inevitable.

_So much for being a Dragon Rider._

And then, it was over. No more pain, no more colour. So why could the tortured boy still feel his surroundings? Why could he still hear the murmurs of the crowd? Soon, it dawned on the young rider that his life was NOT over. He might still reach the freedom he craved. He cracked open his eyes just a notch, and shook his head to clear all of the red splotches crowding his vision. Morzan stared up at a pale blue sky.

_Oops_.

He had passed out… It occurred to the smith's son that he looked rather bad in front of the gathered audience. Quickly, he pushed himself off the ground and stood up. The elder Rider smiled kindly at him.

"You did well…" the other man said. "Most scream or wail or plea for an end to the pain." This knowledge made Morzan suddenly feel very proud. He raised his right hand, heard a collective gasp as if the world itself was surprised, and swiftly lowered his hand to check what was so wrong. His palm had turned silver.

"You will pack around ten days travelling things and eight day's food. It is only three days to the nearest town on dragonback, but your young one is too small to hunt and will need to be fed often." The other Rider told him. "And my name is Vilrien."

_I'm leaving._

_Leaving forever._

**So… How was it? Good? Okay? Bad? Terrible? Utterly and epically failed? Tell me! Reviews.**

**XXcandy-kissesXx: Sorry… Have a cookie.**

**Massa: Rushing things? Am I? Sorry.**

**R.S: YAY, you got me! But yeah.**

**NormalityIsNonexistant: Well, ya knows how Morzy was always described as 'Weak of mind' His dragon is sort of… 'Strong of mind', so he makes up for his Rider's flaws by being excessively intelligent, although just as impatient… Ya. I would feel sorry for Morzy, but he has a dragon Rider on his side. Shameless advertising?**

**I have a new STORY up! Me and CouldBe, who is way awesomer than me (Awesomer is NOT a real word, people) wrote it during a sleepover, while making Pizza and trying to play a game… So it's not perfect, but it IS entirely nuts, and I would like to know how badly we failed. So, everyone, check out 'Be careful what you wish for'. BONKERS!**

**Oh, and CouldBe has posted two very awesome stories called Freedom and A Rider's Curse. She would appreciate it if you read them.**

**(Review please! Make the little blue button very happy!)**


	5. Mother

**Hey, I'm back! Sorry this took so long, just that I had bad writers block and got grounded! :( Um… You probably just want to read the story…**

Morzan nodded eagerly. His father was glaring daggers into his back, but the boy frankly couldn't care less. His father was nothing, _nothing_ to him. A reproachful tendril of thought snaked across his mind. Morzan was immediately aware that his mind felt like in had been extended, like it could float into a bottomless abyss at a moment's notice. This frightened him, but, determined to make up for his earlier mistake, he kept a polite, smiling expression on his face, though those of the town folk were disgusted and uncertain. Morzan stepped forward and was instantly grabbed by the scruff of the neck.

"What d'you think you're doin', boy?" a rough voice snarled in his ear. Fright emanated from the alien presence in his mind, and only now did Morzan realize that it was coming from the dragon. That he was a dragon rider. And, more importantly in that moment, that the man lifting him into the air and leering at him was not. Morzan was more important, necessary for the protection of Alagaesia. He drew himself upright, quite a feat considering his position.

"I _was _becoming a Dragon Rider. Now, I _am _one, and tomorrow, I'll _be_ leaving." He replied with a slight smirk. Disapproving thoughts entered his head, along with the words,

_Stop it._

Morzan repressed a gasp. His dragon had spoken! Truly, he had been honoured by whichever gods existed, if they did at all. He could finally have an intelligent conversation without being beaten, he thought wryly. What did it matter that he was leaving home anyway? Thinking back on his life, Morzan found not one thing he should stay for. A rough shake both interrupted his thoughts and underlined them nicely.

"Be'er getcha inside then, pack your things," Jacob muttered. Morzan stared. This was entirely new. Nevertheless, he did not soften, knowing that his cruel father probably only wanted to befriend a Rider to be able to ask favours.

"Yeah," he answered coldly. "Best get ready to _leave_." The boy emphasized the last word, looking the man he had grown up with in the eye. Annoyance flickered in the smith's dull holes, and Morzan smirked again. His dragon smirked with him.

_**TIME CHANGE – NEXT MORNING**_

Morzan woke up at the crack of dawn, his entire body protesting. He had packed what he needed into a small bundle the night before, and he had to leave quickly, so he grabbed his pack and crept outside. His father must _not_ be alerted.

Vilrien was already waiting.

"We must leave now," he said, "before the village awakes." Morzan nodded gratefully. He wanted to leave this place, this town where he had grown up. He wanted to escape from many things, like the shouting his father directed at him, the beatings, the horrified faces of the townsfolk. But most of all, he wanted to flee the memories that haunted every corner of town. The memories of a happy family. The memories of his mother.

_**POV CHANGE - VILRIEN**_

Vilrien watched the boy as his face lit up and took on a thoughtful quality. He seemed to want to leave home. He seemed to hate it. The Rider made a mental note to mention this to his elders. A boy like this could be dangerous. His dragon seemed to be unusually developed, though it had yet to be named. As an elf, Vilrien was too polite to look over the dragon to see if it was male or female, and the boy, of course, had no idea how. He looked happy just to have a dragon, and liked abusing his power, from what the elf had seen of his treatment of that man. That was another thing he thought he ought to inform the older Riders. For now, he satisfied himself with strapping the boy – Morzan – into his own dragon, Melina's, saddle. The cream dragoness smiled mentally at him.

_Yes, I know it's exciting, but try not to shake him of. He's already mad enough._

_Okay._

Mounting Melina himself, Vilrien guided her up with his thoughts and glanced at Morzan.

" We will be far away from towns by nightfall." He notified the other Rider. Morzan did not look taken aback and worried, as the elf had expected, but nodded calmly, a contradictory gleam in his eye.

_Mad._

_The boy is mad._

Vilrien did not know just how true his words were.

**Chapter end! Sorry guys, but I'm having a little trouble with my creative juices, as someone so nicely put it in a PM, so… Yep.**

**R.S: Thanks and I TOLD you! :P I love saying that so much! You made me happy, along with everyone else I can say that to!**

**Massa: Thanks and I told you! You made me happy too!**

**Bricklifter: I know, school sucks… So, Morzan isn't actually allowed to DO much in his father's work/life, other than clean up after him at the end of the day, and most of the boys in the water are younger… So there is time. Valid concern, though, you stumped me for a while :P.**

**NormalityIsNonextstent: Me too!**

**CouldBe: 1;yeah, 2; cool plan, huh? And there are other reasons, too, it's just that it's all he can really think about. Nor does he quite grasp the AWESOMENESS of being a Rider yet, 4; He passes out because his body is strong, but unconsciousness is like, mental shutdown, and he's WEAK OF MIND. So he can't stay awake.**

**Eradon: 1; Well, now they did. My mind is odd. Never trust it. Still. 2;Thanks!**

**If you press this blue button, there will be one less lonely blue button in the world!**

**I don't even LIKE JB, so I'm sinking pretty low to write that!**


	6. I'm back!

**Hey guys, I'm sorry I ditched you all this long…I've matured a little…well, actually, I think I've gotten yet MORE immature, but I'm not the desperate sucker I used to be, and I'm seriously attempting to finish my stories now, but without rushing. Obviously I'm starting with Arya's Worst Mistake, because that's the first story I ever posted on here (believe me, I'm a creeper in that one), then I think I'll attempt Through a Traitor's Eyes, then…hmm…maybe Twice Now, then An Adventure Of Sorts…  
>Then we'll see how it goes from there.<br>Also, I seem to be a much better writer when paired up with the wonderful CouldBe, who is by the way the most amazing person alive, so check out our joint account, TheErinaceousNihilarians, please! We're almost finished with one of our stories and not such slackers together as apart, so…yeah… XP alrighty then, that's it for the latest author's note! Sorry to all the people I've pissed off!**


	7. Leaving

**Again, sorry for the lame, short filler chapter, but it may be a while before I get going for real again, and until then, you'll have to bear with me writing badly like this. Sorry! ^.^'**

Not long afterwards, Morzan was on the larger dragon's back, holding his own hatchling close to him and staring down at everything below him with a slightly smug smirk. He was leaving his life behind… He was leaving at last…he was going to become powerful, he was going to become important, he would never be attacked again, and he had his dragon hatchling.  
>Besides, the world was so beautiful down there…so unbelievably beautiful. He didn't care for Belatona, city of wonders; nor did he see anything special about the surrounding landscape. All he saw from the air, looking down on everything, was freedom.<br>To him, that was the only thing in the world that held any beauty at all.

"…Morzan." Vilrien's voice sounded as though it came from far away when he spoke up, hours later. "We're nearing Dras-Leona…" only then did the young Rider notice just how quickly they were travelling. It was also very close to nightfall.  
>"And then?" Morzan asked. "Where do we go next?"<br>Vilrien studied him closely before answering. "Have you heard of the elven city of Illirea?"  
>Morzan's grin was almost as broad as his face. "There's not a person alive who hasn't."<br>The corners of the elf's lips twitched upwards slightly to form a small, proud smile. "No, I don't suppose there is."  
>Morzan was left with the impression that elves were as vain as vain could be.<p>

-Vilrien POV-

Melina landed lightly, as graceful as always, and arched her neck to display her elegant figure. Vilrien sent her a mental rebuke; he'd never known any dragon to be as self-loving as his.  
>You love me anyway.<br>How true that is.  
>Vilrien glanced around the place with distaste; he had always hated Dras-Leona. It was at its best a bland place, and well-known for its population of insane, not-quite-normal creatures that called themselves humans. It was also one of the few places the Riders were having trouble controlling.<br>"You would be wise not to stray from my side," he said in an undertone. "There are people here who believe that limbs are ungodly, and we wouldn't want to lose a Rider…" The younger boy stiffened slightly.  
>"I'll fight them if I have to," he said with an ugly snarl. "They can't defeat me even with all both arms and legs."<br>Vilrien sighed. Such a violent child…would he really make a good keeper of peace? Still, he had no right to question a dragon's decision… "no, you won't. You haven't been trained. We must find a tavern for tonight…"

**Okay then, that was it…I still need a name for Morzy's dragon…and I dunno if it's a girl or a boy… XP**


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Inheritance Cycle, Adventure