[Warden]

Light On The Horizon

-->

White Sails

Eragon was standing on a hill, a few miles from the city of Feinster, marvelling the beauty of the vast blue ocean set before him. There was no way to be able to determine the horizon, as the sapphire waters and the clear blue sky above merged together to create an illusion of continuity. He stood there mesmerized, his whole being captivated by the charm of the ocean.

There are other lands that way, I can feel it. Maybe there are even people there, looking this way and wondering the same things. Maybe we are not alone…

A large sturdy ship made from ebony with fine white linen sails upon it’s three masts, sailed into Eragon’s view. Something about the ship made his heart pound harder, it felt as if the heart remembered something that the mind had long ago, put aside. He wondered for quite some time, until it struck him.

The dream!

“A group of people on proud horses approached a lonely river. Many had silver hair and carried tall lances. A strange, fair ship waited for them, shining under a bright moon. The figures slowly boarded the vessel; two of them, taller than the rest walked arm and arm. Their faces were obscured by cowls, but he could tell that one was a woman. They stood on the deck of the ship and faced the shore. A man stood on the pebble beach, the only one who had not boarded the ship. He threw back his head and let out a long, aching cry. As it faded, the ship glided down the river, without a breeze or oars, out in the flat, empty land. The vision clouded, but just before it disappeared, Eragon glimpsed two dragons in the sky.”

Eragon had spent many weeks wondering what the dream had meant, until Saphira had told him to stop worrying about it and let the time reveal it’s secrets.

She always knows what to say, I’m glad to have her by my side. She at least understands me, cares for me and loves me for who I am. Not like most people, for who I am just a tool to remove Galbatorix, a tool that can be discarded when it’s use is complete.

The ship had passed from sight. It was heading for Surda. With the Ra’zac now vanquished, the Varden’s trade routes with the coastal cities had been re-established.

Eragon lied down on the grass covered hill-top, enjoying the tranquillity that surrounded the area. It was if it was untouched by any of the hassle of the world.

He started to doze off, the warmth of the Sun on his back and the gentle brush of waves against the shore was too peaceful for his battle-bruised body, to bear.

A swish of cloth sliding over the rocky hillside, a sharp clang of metal as two swords met each other in the air. Two hooded figures were entangled in the battle of arms, neither gaining a upper hand. Until suddenly the blue sword came down upon the red one, with strength and speed not yet seen in the world. The ruby sword was knocked out of it’s wielders grasp and fell down the cliff, to the abyssal waters below. Next second the sapphire sword had planted it’s tip upon the neck of the other Rider.

“This ends here!”

Eragon woke with a jump, his dagger drawn and body ready to fight. He scanned the area, both with his eyes and with his mind.
After a minute, he relaxed and sat down.

Just a dream. He thought.

Minutes passed and as the glittering Sun laid down her final rays and dusk began to descend upon Alagaësia, Eragon sensed a conscious spring into action, filled with need and purpose.

The only squirrel within a mile, had gone on her quest for food.
Eragon was taken back when he realized how intelligent the ordinary squirrel really was, it knew exactly what it was doing, where it was going and what it needed.

The squirrel jumped from branch to branch, making her way to where it knew it would find suitable food. As it reached a slender twig it leaped and landed softly on the ground, from where it continued northwards. After few minutes of running, the squirrel reached it’s intended location. The ground was covered with acorns and various nuts, the squirrel smelled and her mind became clouded with the scent of her dinner. She quickly started to eat, while keeping all her senses up to detect possible predators.

Suddenly, Eragon felt fear emitting from the squirrel. It had sensed something. She dropped the nut and began to run back to her drey as fast as her muscles allowed. From behind the tree, a new presence intruded. It was a fox, a vixen, it’s mind was focused on the squirrel, calculating all the possibilities. The fox noticed the squirrel retreating. She started to give chase. With a great leap, the squirrel jumped on a tree and ran up it’s bark. Up there she knew that it would be safe.
The fox realized that this hunt was lost and took off.

Eragon retreated back to his own mind and was quite shocked to realize that the moon had already, long ago, taken over the charge of the skies. As the cold sea breeze blew through Eragon, he decided that it was time to head back to the camp. He picked up his bag, threw on his cloak and packed what was left of the food, that he had taken with him.

He started to jog towards the Varden‘s camp which laid on the outskirts of the City of Feinster.

As he reached the edge of the camp, he was stopped at the boarder by one of the Varden guards. The man was taller then Eragon, he wore Dwarf made mail and had a dark woollen cloak upon his broad shoulders. On the guard’s hip was a broadsword with a pommel the size of Eragon’s fist.

“Who goes there? Identify yourself!”

Eragon threw back the hood that had kept his face hidden.

“My humble apologies, Lord Shadeslayer.” Said the guard while stepping out of his way.

Eragon made his way through the maze of tents. Upon arriving in front of his own, he saw a giant blue being drop from the sky and land with a bang.

“Hello Saphira, had difficulties hunting? I thought you would be back, by now.” Eragon asked while smiling, he had missed the soothing presence of his partner-of-heart.

“Hello, Eragon.” She said. “The war has emptied most of the woods from large pray, I had to look far and wide. In the end, though, I noticed a herd of deer and safe to say, they don’t exist anymore…”

“Entire herd? You sure have a healthy appetite, Saphira.”

“Are you smelly-two-legged-fool implying that I eat too much?” She growled.

“No, I’m just voicing my concern that you might have difficulties flying…”

In blink of an eye, Saphira had jumped towards Eragon, planning to pin him down and lick him from head to toe.

Eragon was faster, though. With his Elven speed, he easily avoided her.

“Look, o’great Goddess of the Sky - slower already!”

Saphira turned towards him, the assault hadn’t gone at all according to plan.

“You wait! I will get back at you!”

“I don’t doubt it, my friend, but at the moment…” Eragon continued laughing.

Saphira lied down, once again. “You should go to sleep, tomorrow we march.”

“Indeed, we do. Will I fly on you, or will I stay with the Varden?”

“You are my Rider, Eragon. You belong in the skies, alongside me.” Saphira stated.

“So be it. Some flying would do good for me.”

Eragon stepped into his tent, removed his cloak and undressed. He placed his dagger under the pillow and lied down.

Closing his eyes, he said: “Good night, Saphira.”

“Good night, little-one.” She replied.

This post has been edited by Warden: 09 February 2010 - 04:13 PM

[jsquared0905]

Here's what I like, I won't say what I don't like because you just started posting.

I liked all the nature imagery you are able to use such as the squirrel and fox, and the moon.

I also liked the fact you started off with a Saphira-Eragon bonding moment rather than a mopey depressed Eragon. It's a breath of fresh air.


The one thing I will say though, is don't do the dreams thing too much like I did .

This post has been edited by jsquared0905: 31 March 2009 - 10:36 AM

[Bane Of Razac]

Wow, that was an absolutely brilliant start. I really liked how you started the story by describing a beautiful landscape. I also really liked how you used the dreams to create really good scenes. The squirell sentence was very good. As was the discription of fox hunting it.

Very good start.

This post has been edited by Bane Of Razac: 31 March 2009 - 10:42 AM

[Warden]

Thank You.

-> Do, please, take into account that English is not my first language and as such, it might have some mistakes.

[jsquared0905]

Then that makes your grammar even better. I have seen people who have english as their first language have some pretty bad grammar.

Grammar should be the least of your worries though. Focus on the actual story itself.

[The Shadeslayers]

Amazing!

Dude, you have tons of potential and are a superb writer; why have'nt you started writing before??
Your description is amazing, the imagery is gripping and I love how have started your plot. Everyone does make Eragon depressed but you have made him wise as he is in Brisingr and to some extent, Eldest.

Please keep going, I cannot wait to see more

[Warden]

Amazing!

Dude, you have tons of potential and are a superb writer; why have'nt you started writing before??
Your description is amazing, the imagery is gripping and I love how have started your plot. Everyone does make Eragon depressed but you have made him wise as he is in Brisingr and to some extent, Eldest.

Please keep going, I cannot wait to see more

Thank You, Shadeslayer.

I haven't written before, because I just thought that I'm not good enough.

On the note of updating... I have loads of notes and things to go through and think about, before I start writing the second chapter. I am sorry, as I know the feeling of wanting more, but please - give time.

[Polynesian]

This is totally awesome. For a first time ever, you wrote perfectly. I didn't notice any typos, the description was lengthy and good... You have all the potential of making an amazing story. You seem to have pretty good ideas, too. Take some time with the update, so that it'll be good as heck ;D

[Warden]

By: Markus "Warden" Tiitus

Act II - Of Apples and Stars



As the light of dawn lit the blue skies above the City of Feinster and the first of the Men began to arouse from they’re slumber, Eragon was on his way back to where his tent lied. He had awoken hours prior and completed his daily routine of the third level of Rimgar - the Dance of Snake and Crane - which was a series of poses that the Elves had developed to prepare the soldiers for battle, but was mostly used to keep in shape.

There were four different levels of Rimgar, varying from what a Human could do to what only Elves that had practiced it for many years could hope to complete.

Eragon reached the clearing before his tent, passed the sleeping mass of sapphire blue - that was his partner-of-soul and stepped into the grey tent. It was more extensively decorated then what a normal soldier would be having, but still a far-cry from Nasuada’s extravagantly ornamented pavilion.

Inside there was a simple cot, a small table with a hard-wooden chair stacked against it and a modest closet. All of the furniture was light and portable, it had all the characteristics of a tent of an army on the move - which the Varden essentially were.

Eragon cleaned himself from the sweat of the exercise and changed from the ragged and dirty clothes that he wore, to a more elegant Elven-made tunic of midnight blue and linen leggings of matching color.

Not wanting to wake Saphira up, Eragon had nothing else to do, but to sit down and eat the last of the apples that were still left. He had obtained the basketful when he, two days after the siege of Feinster, had gone to walk in the nearby woods.

----------> FLASHBACK <----------

He had travelled for many a league when he ran across a large, elegant apple tree. It seemed to have stood there for millennia’s, seemed to have seen everything and known all. With it’s pure white bark and tender-green leaves, that tree shone like a beacon of light in the gloomy mass of dark trees that sprouted there.

This tree certainly seems out of place, the last of it’s kind I saw while travelling to Ellesméra. It seems that it has been planted here for reasons that I don’t yet know of, by people I have yet to hear about.

Eragon extended his mind to the apple-tree, which conscious - not unlike Menoa tree’s - was slow moving and interwined with every other plant in this forest. It’s range was much smaller, then the great tree of Du Weldenvarden’s, but in every other aspect it seemed that them two were there for the same purpose - to look over the land.

He marvelled at how immense the tree’s knowledge of every little thing that happened in the lands was, right at the moment he could sense a pack of wolves hunting a herd of deer, he could feel the last heart-beats of a dying racoon, he was part of the euphoria that a eagle felt when her eggs were hatching and the slow-rhythmic slumber of the trees.

Everything that has a beginning has an end. He thought, thinking about the deaths and the births he had just been part of.

Suddenly he felt his stomach rumble, he had not eaten anything that day and the Sun was already on her way down from the ceiling of the world, to be soon replaced by her brother the Moon.

Eragon stared at the delicious blood-red apples that sprouted from that noble tree, hunger clearly visible in his deep brown eyes, he was yet to eat anything that day and the fruits upon the tree’s glorious branches were almost if calling out to him.

The faiths of the Dragons and the land of Alagaësia is bound together, without one - there would not be the other. I as a Dragon Rider, am also bonded with this good earth. The nature would never allow me to die of hunger, but I still don’t dare to pick anything from a tree so ancient without asking for consent first. Knowing how Menoa tree reacted, I would rather not try to contact it, especially knowing that the tree might not take fondly to being disturbed.

Eragon then scanned the ground with his vivid eyes, hoping for some of the apples to have fallen off the mighty tree and to still be fresh. He was in luck, as just a few hours earlier the wind from the sea was strong enough to shake even the tallest and the stiffest of trees and thus the ground was covered with a wonderful mixture of red and green - apples and leaves.

The apples looked just as pristine as they did when they were still attached to the tree. He sat down upon a large thick root, it’s colour was of light gray and Eragon through his Elven senses felt the root move a little, but not to push him away - far from it. It seemed that the tree appreciated having a person of familiar being next to it, it had been a long time since the last of the Dragon Riders, or Elves had been to these war-ragged forests.

The tree is indeed ancient, but has it kept it’s guard over the forests for longer then the Elves have inhabited Alagaësia, I do not know. I sense no Elven conscious inside the vast mind of this tree, so it’s not entirely similar to that of the Menoa tree, but maybe we have been looking at it the wrong way. Maybe these trees have been the guardians of lands long before the first of Elves got of they’re fair ships and stepped upon the soil of this land. If that would be the case, then Linnëa singing herself into the tree would have just made the tree’s conscious that much stronger and more prominent, helping the massive forest of Du Weldenvarden to flourish in it’s glorious presence.

Eragon sighed and picked up the apple closest to him, his hand ran smooth against the skin of the fruit. The apple seemed perfect, it’s body was the size of his fist and oozed freshness. The colour was that of a rich ruby, but unlike Zar’roc it had a calmer feel to it, a feel of nature - a feeling of peace.

He moved the apple to his lips, but suddenly stopped.

Am I beginning to forget everything that Oromis thought me? Getting killed would not be a great testament for his life.

Eragon the murmured some words in the language of magic and inspected the apple further.

No poisons, nor anything else, but what the tree and the nature have given it.

He then sank his teeth into the rich fruit and indulged himself with the sweet juices that ran over his tongue. It was unlike any other apple he had ever eaten, it was sweet - yet not too sugary, it was perfectly voluptuous and Eragon felt like all the troubles were lifted from his shoulders.

Only fitting. He thought. For a tree of such grace to have pomaceous fruits that match it in glory.

Having finished the apple, he automatically moved to pick up another, only to stop his hand midway.

I don’t feel hungry anymore, at all. Eragon noted. It seems that one apple can keep a grown man going for quite some time. I should take some with me and keep them fresh with magic, apples like that could come very handy while travelling great distances without having time to stop and cook.

With the Moon beginning to slot into it’s place, high up in the heavens - overlooking everything and observing all. Eragon sang a simple twig basket from a nearby tree and having enforced it with magic, started to fill it with apples.

He picked only the most picturesque of apples and having filled the basket, began to travel back to where he knew he would get no real peace - the Varden’s camp.

Eragon passed numerous trees and countless bushes, went up the hill - and then down again. He continued walking for what seemed like an hour, until he reached a broad clearing within the forest. There were no trees within a hundred foot-step, it was a plain grass field that had a small and gentle stream running through the middle of it. Eragon’s mind was taken over by the tranquil sound of water running over smooth soil, he stood there standing - just standing and listening.

Nature is indeed beautiful and it should be guarded from destruction, whatever the cost - I can’t let Alagaësia fall into darkness. I can’t allow Galbatorix to terrorize these lands for much longer, his time is about to end.

Eragon looked up to the clear dark skies above and noticed how the watchers of the night, the stars, were all looking down upon these lands - surveying Alagaësia and seemingly measuring him up.

I will not fail. He promised. If I fail - Alagaësia will fall…

That young man - with the weight of the world on his shoulders - began to make his way to where he knew he would both be at peace, but also at war. He took the course south-east and started towards his friend, his other self, Saphira.

Before he entered the woods, again, he instinctivly looked to his left. There loomed, against the dark skies, the mountain range of his childhood - the Spine. If it wouldn’t be for his Elven eyesight, he wouldn’t have been able to distinguish the mountains from the dark background that was the sky.

The mountains seemed un-inviting, but yet Eragon felt looking at them a deep desire to return there. A desire to see them up-close, a desire to explore them and a desire find peace in they’re shadows, once more.

The Spine’s past has been subject to many inquiries and there are countless different tales about how they came to be, but one thing is certain - Spine’s past is marked with blood, war’s have started there - battles have been lost there and minds have been broken there.

That’s where Galbatorix lost his dragon, that’s where he was consumed by hate, that’s where he became changed.

As light rain began to fall and the leaves of the trees got a crystal layer upon them, Eragon upped his pace and within minutes saw the smoke raising from one of the countless number of bonfires that burnt within the Varden camp. Men were singing, men were drinking and many of them were already passed out from the celebrations.

Varden had won a good victory, with the fall of Feinster the path now swayed towards another city of the Empire. They would march in four days and it was expected to take at least two weeks for the forces to reach the gates of Belatona.

Eragon started to make his way to his tent, he was greeted along the way by numerous people - either drunk, or getting there. Upon reaching the wide clearing before his tent, he was disappointed not to find the large body of sapphire, his Dragon - Saphira.

He had missed her soothing mind, but he had also needed time alone to mull things over. She had left to hunt and was yet to return.

She should return tomorrow, at the latest. He thought. I had to have some time for my own thoughts, but as were bonded on the level deeper then anything - I miss her.

With these thoughts, he made his way into his tent, removed his clothing and went to sleep.

----------> END OF FLASHBACK <----------

“I missed you, too, Little One.” Saphira’s voice said in Eragon’s mind. “Did you use the time well? Did you lose you’re doubts and are ready to march for blood and glory?”

“Good morning, Saphira.” He said with a small smile dancing on his lips. “I did think about what needed to be thought about. I am ready to fight my way towards Urû'baen.”

“Good. We can’t falter, but know that I will forever be at you’re side. To whatever end.” Saphira said.

“And I at yours.”








______________________________________________________________________

Authors note: I started writing... And my mind took me places.

Comment, please.

This post has been edited by Warden: 25 April 2009 - 03:38 PM

[jsquared0905]

I like how this story is unique in the sense it probably connects Eragon and nature very well, especially in that last chapter. These two chapters have been giving a different feel from the inheritance series itself. Its a good example of naturalism, and perhaps even romanticism.

Now I need to get back to work on my update.

This post has been edited by jsquared0905: 04 April 2009 - 10:46 AM

[Warden]

I like how this story is unique in the sense it probably connects Eragon and nature very well, especially in that last chapter. These two chapters have been giving a different feel from the inheritance series itself. Its a good example of naturalism, and perhaps even romanticism.

Now I need to get back to work on my update.

Do get back to work! I want to read...



NB: That chapter wasn't even supposed to happen, I wrote down 15 points that this chapter was supposed to answer - it answered that amazing number of 0. More things for future chapters, then!

[jsquared0905]

Teehee, I don't exactly write that way, I just write what flows, don't write anything down. Did that just happen to you?

**Looks around writers hangout** Why isn't anyone reading this? This has the potential to be a great and unique(stylistically) fanfiction.

[Warden]

Teehee, I don't exactly write that way, I just write what flows, don't write anything down. Did that just happen to you?

**Looks around writers hangout** Why isn't anyone reading this? This has the potential to be a great and unique(stylistically) fanfiction.

I was in school, Religion lesson (it's compulsory for the so called Christians and Lutherans) and bored to death. Then I started thinking about my writing and I noted 15 things that the next chapter should include or relate to. Then yesterday evening, I started writing... I just liked writing the flashback too much, so I got "lost in the past". So, yeah... I just wrote what came.

I guess that they are reading better stories, such as yours and The Shadeslayers.

[The Shadeslayers]

Very good chapter!

I like your style, you like to find the beauty of nature as an outlet for the characters. Very very hard to pull off but you have done well in doing it

The flashbacks were a bit confusing. Was it a flashback within a flashback?
I anxiously await more.

[Warden]

Very good chapter!

I like your style, you like to find the beauty of nature as an outlet for the characters. Very very hard to pull off but you have done well in doing it

The flashbacks were a bit confusing. Was it a flashback within a flashback?
I anxiously await more.

Thank you.

The new chapter is one page ready, 1 point answered... "A few" pages left to be written. If I can finish it during this weekend, then I will upload it tomorrow, if I can't then I'll try to finish it during the week.

I modified the flashback, a bit. There's only one.


-----

NB: One more thing... The flashback also happened in his head (he was thinking back at it, while eating one of these apples... Mmm... Apples... I want one of them!) that's why Saphira knew what he was thinking, and responded.

This post has been edited by Warden: 04 April 2009 - 03:32 PM