[bPhoenix]

After reading a few fanfics, I decided I wanted to give it a shot myself. I've always wanted to try and write my own story, but never got around to doing it. So this here's my first attempt at writing.

Chapter 01 - Mourning Blades
Chapter 02 - Dance of the Duos
Chapter 03 - A New Leader
Chapter 04 - Visiting Families
Chapter 05 - Night with a Princess
Chapter 06 - Plans for the Future
Chapter 07 - First Time Commanding
Chapter 08 - The Black Hand Strikes Again
Chapter 09 - A New Reason to Fight
Chapter 10 - Defying Orders
Chapter 11 - To Redeem Oneself
Chapter 12 - Xenia
Chapter 13 - Escape
Chapter 14 - Endless Questions
Chapter 15 - An Eventful Morning
Chapter 16 - Reunited
Chapter 17 - A Curious Cat
Chapter 18 - Back at Last

Chapter 1 – Mourning Blades

It had been five days since the siege at Feinster, five days since Eragon helped Arya slay a powerful shade, and five days since he saw the deaths of his masters. He spent the majority of the first few days helping with the clean-up job, healing the injured, or otherwise drowning his sorrow through various other means. However, despite how hard he tried to overcome his grief, Eragon could not help but wallow in despair every night as he laid down to rest.

The sun was just starting to rise above the horizon when Eragon snapped opened his eyes, returning from his waking dreams. Beads of sweat covered his face as he tried to forget what he had just seen. Saphira, sensing his distress, quickly entered his mind and filled his thoughts with calming emotions.

Thank you, Saphira, Eragon said as he was starting to feel more at ease.

I will always be here for you, Little One, Saphira responded in kind.

Getting up, Eragon stretched as he stepped outside of his tent, breathing in the fresh air to further calm his mind. Finding a patch of dirt by Saphira, he started off his day by doing the Rimgar, an elven exercise used to strengthen the body. After finishing, he returned to his tent and discarded his clothing. Rummaging through his packs, Eragon found a blue elven tunic and matching leggings. Once dressed, he strapped Brisingr to the Belt of Beloth the Wise, and stepped outside basking himself in the morning sun, prepared for another arduous day.

Eragon, Saphira began, I have not eaten in days. I need to go out and hunt, but I do not wish to leave you alone in your current state.

It’s alright, Saphira, I was just thinking of heading over to the sparring grounds to release some stress. I should be able to manage without you for a few hours, Eragon assured her.

Very well, but I do not want you to dwell on such gloomy thoughts, Saphira firmly stated.

I won’t, I promise.

Satisfied, the great dragon leapt off the ground and spread her wings, taking to the air. Eragon watched as he saw her turning to a speck in the distance before she vanished completely. Taking in another breath, Eragon turned towards the sparring grounds.

Sounds of metal clashing against metal filled the air, as men dueled one another. Eragon scanned the men there, trying to find anyone he could fight with. He noticed in the corner was a group of villagers from Carvahall being trained in the arts of war. Roran was among them, practicing with his hammer, as he did not like to use a sword. A smile crept onto Eragon’s face as he realized he had never truly gauged his cousin’s skills before. He figured this was as good a time as any, and briskly walked over.

Roran paused mid-strike as he saw his cousin approaching. With a smile on his face, he turned and waited for Eragon to arrive.

“What brings you to the sparring grounds, Eragon?” Roran asked, as he knew there was little point in Eragon coming, because none but an elf can even hope to match his skills.

“I was merely hoping to be able to relieve some stress, but I wasn’t able to find a worthy opponent. Then I noticed you practicing over here, and realized, we’ve never dueled before,” Eragon answered, with a grin upon his face.

“Ah, but what’s the point? I wouldn’t be a match for you no matter how hard I tried,” Roran said.

“Oh? Is the mighty Stronghammer afraid of a little challenge? I suppose the rumors about you taking down a hundred and ninety-three men were all fabricated then,” Eragon taunted his cousin.

Grinning, Roran decided he’d prove the rumors true with his own hands. “Well then, I suppose I’ll just have to prove you wrong,” Roran replied, a hint of excitement flashed across his eyes.

The other villagers had all stopped practicing, and watched the two cousins, interested at how Roran would fare against Eragon. Roran then crouched down a bit, gripping his hammer tighter as he prepares to fight Eragon. His eyes strictly upon his prey, Roran charged forward with a mighty cry, lifting his hammer above his head and striking down when he was near.

Quick as an elf, Eragon drew Brisingr from its scabbard, and neatly stepped to the side, dodging Roran’s attack completely. Roran, however, was unrelenting in his attempt to put a scratch on Eragon. After his initial attack failed, he turned around as quick as he could and started swinging his hammer furiously at his cousin. Eragon easily parried the blows, and then he jumped over Roran, spinning in the air so that he would once again face his cousin when he landed.

Laughing, Eragon said to his cousin, “A bit too eager to start the fight, eh, Roran?” He then dipped into his mind and took a hold of the magic within. Saying a simple spell he learned from Brom, Eragon guarded his sword. His eyes burnt with the excitement of battle as he ran towards Roran at full speed.

Roran’s eyes grew wider as he saw how fast his cousin was approaching. He was sure there was no way he could stand after taking a blow from Eragon. He had to dodge it at all cost. Adrenaline pumping throughout his body, Roran jumped to the side, just in time as Eragon slashed downward. Narrowly missing, Eragon twisted his hand and slashed horizontally, so as to catch his cousin off guard. Roran, however, was anticipating that, and already had his hammer held up to block the attack. He grinned, thinking that Eragon’s attack would leave him momentarily opened. As the sword struck upon the hammer, Roran was instead sent back ten feet.

Dammit! Roran thought, I wasn’t expecting him to be that strong. This is impossible!

“Giving up already, Roran?! I haven’t even gotten started yet!” Eragon yelled across to his cousin.

He must have some weakness, Roran thought, as he prepared his next plan of attack. Deciding that it was worthless in the end, Roran just charged forward, swinging his hammer around like a madman, hoping one of his attacks would land a blow.

The fight had been going on for nearly ten minutes now, Roran giving it all he’s got, while Eragon was merely toying around with him. Roran spun and crouched down low, and, using the momentum from his spin, aimed his hammer towards Eragon’s shin. And once again, Eragon effortlessly dodged the oncoming attack. Roran stood back up, panting heavily. He was immensely impressed by the strength of his cousin, not one strike had landed on him yet. As Roran lifted his hammer over his head once more, he saw Eragon put a hand up.

“That’s enough, Roran. I wanted to test your skills and test them I have. You are indeed the fearless warrior the rumors spoke of, though you’re still only human. You did however put up a pretty good fight; I haven’t seen anyone who attacks as ferociously as you have before,” Eragon said, satisfied with the results.

As Roran was about to make a remark, he noticed a commotion on the other side of the field. Eragon lifted an eyebrow, curious as to what was going on. When he approached the crowd, he saw the most beautiful elf standing at the center, eight other men sprawled around her.

****

Arya was devastated at the deaths of Oromis and Glaedr. They had been like the father she never had, and she was still coping with the deaths of Faolin and Glenwing. Sorrow and resentment welled up inside of her, and she needed to find a way to relieve it.

For a few days, Arya would run out to a nearby forest, in order to escape the chaos within the Varden. She’d stay confined within it from dawn til dusk, in order to calm her mind. Unfortunately, it yielded poor results.

If only Galbatorix never rose to power, none of this would’ve happened. He’s taken so much from me already, and he still hasn’t had enough! Tears formed in her eyes, but before they could drop, she gathered her composure and stood up. I need to find a way to vent off some steam, else I fear I may go insane. Deciding on a course of action, Arya left the woods, and sprinted off into the campsite.

As she entered the forest of tents, Arya angled herself towards the sparring grounds. She was going to try and direct all her rage with some swordswork. When she arrived on the grounds, she took a quick look around, to see if there were any elves among the men. Arya was hoping to find a member of Eragon’s guard hanging around, but to her dismay, they were nowhere in sight. She then spotted Eragon having a friendly match with his cousin, and decided not to interrupt him.

Arya watched the fight between the Shadeslayer and Stronghammer for a few minutes. Her eyes were transfixed upon Eragon, watching every move he made. After awhile, she realized her heart starting to beat faster, and so Arya snapped her eyes away from him and walked up to a group of eight men she found nearby. They all looked to be strong amongst the humans, so she figured she could probably channel her anger if she fought several of them off at once.

“Greetings, Shadeslayer!” the men said in unison, bowing to her. Recently, the members of the Varden started calling her that after they found out it was she whom struck down the shade. Arya hid a smile, amused by the fact that she now shares the same name with Eragon.

“What can we do for you today?” a tall, well built man asked.

“I wanted to practice some swordplay, but unfortunately, there are no elves around who can fight me. And so I figured I’ll just fight a couple of you at once instead,” Arya calmly told them. She noted how a flash of anger crossed their eyes for a split second. Good, this will make them give me all they’ve got.

“Are you sure you can handle all of us at once?” another man asked, irritation at being looked down upon was clearly in his voice.

“I will manage it,” Arya replied, keeping her face emotionless. “Come over here, there’s more room.” She motioned for them to follow her.

Arya stopped at a big clearing, and then turned around to face her opponents. The eight men surrounded her, weapons drawn and in fighting position. As she entered the clearing, many eyes among the Varden were following her, entranced by her beauty. When they noticed the eight men surrounding her, they immediately dropped what they were doing and crowded around the duelers. It was rare for the men to watch an elf fight while not on a battlefield.

Face still void of emotion, Arya slowly drew her elven blade out and crouched down slightly, ready to begin. The eight men surrounding her were arrogant, thinking they need not use their full strength on a mere woman. One of them grinned, as he stepped forward, intending to fight her alone.

These people forget how strong elves can really be, Arya thought to herself. With a sigh, she turned her attention onto the man that was challenging her. “You don’t truly intend to fight me alone, do you? You wouldn’t even last ten seconds,” she jested.

The man, clearly enraged by now, and eager to prove his strength, charged at her and swung with all his might. His eyes were fierce, his scream deafening. The crowd didn’t need to hold their breath for long, as the man was quickly disarmed. Arya’s blade was pointing down at him, an inch away from his neck. She withdrew her blade, and waited until he retrieved his. “This time, all of you, together!” Arya yelled, not masking her irritation.

The man who challenged her quietly returned to his position, embarrassed by his performance. The other seven men were just as surprised. Arya quickly glanced at each of them, realizing that this is probably their first time seeing an elf fight. It’s no wonder they were so arrogant.

Slowly, as one, the eight men approached her. When they had gotten near, she took in a breath, ready to fight. In unison, all eight men charged at her, weapons slashing down. The elf gracefully dodged all the attacks aimed at her, and her frustration was at its peak. I misjudged them, they aren’t strong enough to help redirect my anger.

Moments later, all eight of the men were lying on their backs, dazed and unsure as to what just happened. The crowd surrounding them cheered as they marveled in Arya’s strength. She took a quick look around the crowd again, trying to find a worthier opponent. Her eyes fell onto Eragon, and she could see his grin. Arya hid a smile herself. Finally, a real challenge, she thought.

************************************

I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with the story right now. I should make an outline or something I suppose. At the moment, I'm just writing as I go.

Any crits and comments would be greatly appreciated.

This post has been edited by bPhoenix: 16 November 2009 - 06:40 AM

[hackingoutofthetrap]

I haven't seen a beginning this good in a long time. BRAVO!!!

I didn't see any mistakes, but I also wasn't looking.

When do you think you will have the next chapter up?

[StarSapphireWolf]

That was great! I can't wait for the next chapter! You're description and emotions were great! 5 stars!

When can we expect the next update?

~ You're Reader, Star

[seprateraera]

After reading a few fanfics, I decided I wanted to give it a shot myself. I've always wanted to try and write my own story, but never got around to doing it. So this here's my first attempt at writing.

Chapter 1

It had been five days since the siege at Feinster, five days since Eragon helped Arya slay a powerful shade, and five days since he saw the deaths of his masters. He spent the majority of the first few days helping with the clean-up job, healing the injured, or otherwise drowning his sorrow through various other means. However, despite how hard he tried to overcome his grief, Eragon could not help but wallow in despair every night as he laid down to rest.

The sun was just starting to rise above the horizon when Eragon snapped opened his eyes, returning from his waking dreams. Beads of sweat covered his face as he tried to forget what he had just seen. Saphira, sensing his distraught[/color] (should be distress), quickly entered his mind and filled his thoughts with calming emotions.

Thank you, Saphira, Eragon said as he was starting to feel more at ease.

I will always be here for you, Little One, Saphira responded in kind.

Getting up, Eragon stretched as he stepped outside of his tent, breathing in the fresh air to further calm his mind. Finding a patch of dirt by Saphira, he started off his day by doing the rimgar, an elven exercise used to strengthen the body. After finishing, he returned to his tent and discarded his clothing. Rummaging through his packs, Eragon found a set of blue elven tunic and started dressing[color="#FFFF00"].(I believe this sentence is akwardly worded, may i suggest you change it?) Once completed, he strapped Brisingr to the Belt of Beloth the Wise, and stepped outside basking himself in the morning sun, prepared for another arduous day.

Eragon, Saphira began, I have not eaten in days. I need to go out and hunt, but I do not wish to leave you alone in your current state.

It’s alright, Saphira, I was just thinking of heading over to the sparring grounds to release some stress. I should be able to manage without you for a few hours, Eragon assured her.

Very well, but I do not want you to dwell on such gloomy thoughts, Saphira firmly stated.

I won’t, I promise.

Satisfied, the great dragon leapt off the ground and spread her wings, taking to the air. Eragon watched as he saw her turning to a speck in the distance before she vanished completely. Taking in another breath, Eragon turned towards the sparring grounds.

Sounds of metal clashing against metal filled the air, as men dueled one another. Eragon scanned the men there, trying to find anyone he could fight with. He noticed in the corner was a group of villagers from Carvahall being trained in the arts of war. Roran was among them, practicing with his hammer, as he did not like to use a sword. A smile crept onto Eragon’s face as he realized he has never truly gauged his cousin’s skills before. He figured this was as good a time as any, and briskly walked over.

Roran paused mid-strike as he saw his cousin approaching. With a smile on his face, he turned and waited for Eragon to arrive.

“What brings you to the sparring grounds, Eragon?” Roran asked, as he knew there was little point in Eragon coming, because none but an elf can even hope to match his skills.

“I was merely hoping to be able to relieve some stress, but I wasn’t able to find a worthy opponent. Then I noticed you practicing over here, and realized, we’ve never dueled before,” Eragon answered, with a grin upon his face.

“Ah, but what’s the point? I wouldn’t be a match for you no matter how hard I tried,” Roran said.

“Oh? Is the mighty Stronghammer afraid of a little challenge? I suppose the rumors about you taking down a hundred and ninety-three men were all fabricated then,” Eragon taunted his cousin.

Grinning, Roran decided he’d prove the rumors true with his own hands. “Well then, I suppose I’ll just have to prove you wrong,” Roran replied, a hint of excitement flashed across his eyes.

The other villagers had all stopped practicing, and watched the two cousins, interested at how Roran would fair(should be fare) against Eragon. Roran then crouched down a bit, gripping his hammer tighter as he prepares to fight Eragon. His eyes strictly upon his prey, Roran charged forward with a mighty cry, lifting his hammer above his head and striking down when he was near.

Quick as an elf, Eragon drew Brisingr from its scabbard, and neatly stepped to the side, dodging Roran’s attack completely. Roran, however, was unrelenting in his attempt to put a scratch on Eragon. After his initial attack failed, he turned around as quick as he could and started swinging his hammer furiously at his cousin. Eragon easily parried the blows, and then he jumped over Roran, spinning in the air so that he would once again face his cousin when he landed.

Laughing, Eragon said to his cousin, “A bit too eager to start the fight, eh, Roran?” He then dipped into his mind and took a hold of the magic within. Saying a simple spell he learned from Brom, Eragon guarded his sword. His eyes burnt with the excitement of battle as he ran towards Roran at full speed.

Roran’s eyes grew wider as he saw how fast his cousin was approaching. He was sure there was no way he could stand after taking a blow from Eragon. He had to dodge it at all cost. Adrenaline pumping throughout his body, Roran jumped to the side, just in time as Eragon slashed downward. Narrowly missing, Eragon twisted his hand and slashed horizontally, so as to catch his cousin off guard. Roran, however, was anticipating that, and already had his hammer held up to block the attack. He grinned, thinking that Eragon’s attack would leave him momentarily opened. As the sword struck upon the hammer, Roran was instead sent back ten feet.

Dammit!, Roran thought, I wasn’t expecting him to be that strong. This is impossible!

“Giving up already, Roran?! I haven’t even gotten started yet!” Eragon yelled across to his cousin.

He must have some weakness, Roran thought, as he prepared his next plan of attack. Deciding that it was worthless in the end, Roran just charged forward, swinging his hammer around like a madman, hoping one of his attacks would land a blow.

The fight has been going on for nearly ten minutes now, Roran giving it all he’s got, while Eragon was merely toying around with him. Roran spun and crouched down low, and, using the momentum from his spin, aimed his hammer towards Eragon’s shin. And once again, Eragon effortlessly dodged the oncoming attack. Roran stood back up, panting heavily. He was immensely impressed by the strength of his cousin, not one strike has landed on him yet. As Roran lifted his hammer over his head once more, he saw Eragon put a hand up.

“That’s enough, Roran. I wanted to test your skills and test them I have. You are indeed the fearless warrior the rumors spoke of, though you’re still only human. You did however put up a pretty good fight; I haven’t seen anyone who attacks as ferociously as you have before,” Eragon said, satisfied with the results.

As Roran was about to make a remark, he noticed a commotion on the other side of the field. Eragon lifted an eyebrow, curious as to what was going on. When he approached the crowd, he saw the most beautiful elf standing at the center, eight other men sprawled around her.

_______________________________________________________

Arya was devastated at the deaths of Oromis and Glaedr. They had been like the father she never had, and she was still coping with the deaths of Faolin and Glenwing. Sorrow and resentment welled up inside of her, and she needed to find a way to relieve it.

For a few days, Arya would run out to a nearby forest, in order to escape the chaos within the Varden. She’d stay confined within it from dusk til dawn, in order to calm her mind. Unfortunately, it yielded poor results.

If only Galbatorix never rose to power, none of this would’ve happened. He’s taken so much from me already, and he still hasn’t had enough! Tears formed in her eyes, but before they could drop, she gathered her composure and stood up. I need to find a way to vent off some steam, else I fear I may go insane. Deciding on a course of action, Arya left the woods, and sprinted off into the campsite.

As she entered the forest of tents, Arya angled herself towards the sparring grounds. She was going to try and direct all her rage with some swordswork. When she arrived on the grounds, she took a quick look around, to see if there were any elves among the men. Arya was hoping to find a member of Eragon’s guard hanging around, but to her dismay, they were nowhere in sight. She then spotted Eragon having a friendly match with his cousin, and decided not to interrupt him.

Arya watched the fight between the Shadeslayer and Stronghammer for a few minutes. Her eyes were transfixed upon Eragon, watching every move he made. After awhile, she realized her heart starting to beat faster, and so Arya snapped her eyes away from him and walked up to a group of eight men she found nearby. They all looked to be strong amongst the humans, so she figured she could probably channel her anger if she fought several of them off at once.

“Greetings, Shadeslayer!” the men said in unison, bowing to her. Recently, the members of the Varden started calling her that after they found out it was she whom struck down the shade. Arya hid a smile, amused by the fact that she now shares the same name with Eragon.

“What can we do for you today?” a tall, well built man asked.

“I wanted to practice some swordplay, but unfortunately, there are no elves around who can fight me. And so I figured I’ll just fight couple of you at once instead,” Arya calmly told them. She noted how a flash of anger crossed their eyes for a split second. Good, this will make them give me all they’ve got.

“Are you sure you can handle all of us at once?” another man asked, irritation at being looked down upon was clearly in his voice.

“I will manage it,” Arya replied, keeping her face emotionless. “Come over here, there’s more room.” She motioned for them to follow her.

Arya stopped at a big clearing, and then turned around to face her opponents. The eight men surrounded her, weapons drawn and in fighting position. As she entered the clearing, many eyes among the Varden were following her, entranced by her beauty. When they noticed the eight men surrounding her, they immediately dropped what they were doing and crowded around the duelers. It was rare for the men to watch an elf fight while not on a battlefield.

Face still void of emotion, Arya slowly drew her elven blade out and crouched down slightly, ready to begin. The eight men surrounding her were arrogant, thinking they need not use their full strength on a mere woman. One of them grinned, as he stepped forward, intending to fight her alone.

These people forget how strong elves can really be, Arya thought to herself. With a sigh, she turned her attention onto the man that was challenging her. “You don’t truly intend to fight me alone, do you? You wouldn’t even last ten seconds,” she jested.

The man, clearly enraged by now, and eager to prove his strength, charged at her and swung with all his might. His eyes were fierce, his scream deafening. The crowd didn’t need to hold their breath for long, as the man was quickly disarmed. Arya’s blade was pointing down at him, an inch away from his neck. She withdrew her blade, and waited until he retrieved his. “This time, all of you, together!” Arya yelled, not masking her irritation.

The man who challenged her quietly returned to his position, embarrassed by his performance. The other seven men were just as surprised. Arya quickly glanced at each of them, realizing that this is probably their first time seeing an elf fight. It’s no wonder they were so arrogant.

Slowly, as one, the eight men approached her. When they had gotten near, she took in a breath, ready to fight. In unison, all eight men charged at her, weapons slashing down. The elf gracefully dodged all the attacks aimed at her, and her frustration was at it’s peak. I misjudged them, they aren’t strong enough to help redirect my anger.

Moments later, all eight of the men were lying on their backs, dazed and unsure as to what just happened. The crowd surrounding them cheered as they marveled in Arya’s strength. She took a quick look around the crowd again, trying to find a worthier opponent. Her eyes fell onto Eragon, and she could see his grin. Arya hid a smile herself. Finally, a real challenge, she thought.

************************************

I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with the story right now. I should make an outline or something I suppose. At the moment, I'm just writing as I go.

Any crits and comments would be greatly appreciated.

I really like this story, you obviosly have a decent vocabulary and there is no story to my knowledge that uses this idea. I'm giving you 5 stars and tracking this story.

May the wind of ideas fill the wings of your story,
Seprat

[bPhoenix]

Ah thanks, I'm glad you guys like it. I'm going to start working on the second chapter any minute now, still trying to come up with a general plot for the whole story. You might be able to expect a second chapter later tonight, if not tomorrow.

I've edited chapter one for some slight errors I found, and what you pointed out. However, the awkwardly worded sentence you mentioned, seemed fine to me. How is it awkward?

[StarSapphireWolf]

Ah thanks, I'm glad you guys like it. I'm going to start working on the second chapter any minute now, still trying to come up with a general plot for the whole story. You might be able to expect a second chapter later tonight, if not tomorrow.

I've edited chapter one for some slight errors I found, and what you pointed out. However, the awkwardly worded sentence you mentioned, seemed fine to me. How is it awkward?

Yay! Can't wait bP!(Can I call you this?) Have a good time trying to make up a general plot, but be sure to think about awsome twist!

~ You're Reader, Star

[seprateraera]

Ah thanks, I'm glad you guys like it. I'm going to start working on the second chapter any minute now, still trying to come up with a general plot for the whole story. You might be able to expect a second chapter later tonight, if not tomorrow.

I've edited chapter one for some slight errors I found, and what you pointed out. However, the awkwardly worded sentence you mentioned, seemed fine to me. How is it awkward?

"Eragon found a set of blue elven tunic and started dressing."
You should try, "Eragon found a blue elven tunic and some black leggings and started dressing."
a set signifies more than one thing, while you only mention a tunic.

This post has been edited by seprateraera: 02 October 2009 - 08:44 PM

[Thunder Gulch]

I agree with the rest of the readers. one of the best beginning I have seen in a long time. As seprateraera pointed out all the mistakes, the only thing i can really do is marvel in your use of descriptions and emotions.

As for your general plot, the only thing I can say is that keep thinking and it will eventually come to you and will probably amaze us .

Hope you can update soon.

-OTF

[lt dragon]

Wow. I hold writing, at least that that I read, to very high standards, and normally aren't impressed easily, but that was absolutely amazing. While I sincerely hate to admit it, you just killed the beginning of my fanfic, along with nearly any other I've ever read. Once again, wow. Very, very impressive. I've very rarely seen such good descriptions and emotions in non-professional writers. I'm definitely going to follow your story.

As far as the plot, my suggestion is don't really think about what you want to happen. Just start writing and see where it goes. That's how I write, no planning in advance, just whatever comes to me after I start, and it's going pretty good so far (at least I think it is).

Eagerly awaiting the next update.

Lt. Dragon

This post has been edited by lt dragon: 02 October 2009 - 09:41 PM

[hirna]

dang... great beginning. I can already tell this shall be a promising book. I didn't notice any grammar/spelling mistakes, and the description was also quite good.

The only advise I can give you is continue updates such as this one, you'll end with a very well written fanfic; but please, do add the next chapter soon, waiting is no fun as a reader.

Your evil, sadistic reader,
Hirna.

[bPhoenix]

I appreciate the support guys. And yes, Star, you can call me bP. Well then, here's the promised chapter 2. Enjoy!

Chapter 2 – Dance of the Duos

Eragon’s eyes locked up with Arya’s, and in that instant he knew. She was here for the same reason as him. He sensed in her eyes the disappointment in not being able to achieve her goal. An understanding grin crept across his lips as Eragon started to step forward, unsheathing Brisingr.

Arya’s gaze was drifting around the crowd, until it landed on him. She saw the sly grin on his face, and took a step back, realizing this will be a more proper match. Knees bent, Arya gripped her sword in both hands. Opposite her, Eragon was mimicking her movements, crouching down into a fighting position with both hands on the pommel.

All was silent around the two deadly warriors, neither daring to make the first move. The crowd held its breath, unwilling to disturb the silence, and the eight men who were previously beaten by Arya were scrambling away to safety. Eragon held his penetrating stare upon her, waiting for the perfect chance to strike. In an instant, both their feet took a step forward, propelling them towards one another.

Arya started off with a quick thrust towards his chest, which was easily parried to the side. She twisted her hand and slashed at him, but Eragon was already ducking below her blade. Moving at a speed at which even an elf would find alarming, Eragon quickly swept at her legs. Any normal person would’ve fell victim to his attack, but Arya was anything but normal. She jumped up over him, and twisted herself in the air, landing immediately behind him. Arya lightly tossed the sword into the air, flipped her hand around and grabbed it again. With her sword now reversed, she stabbed downwards, narrowly missing Eragon as he rolled forward, her blade sticking through the ground.

Immediately recovering from his roll, Eragon charged straight into Arya before she had time to retrieve her weapon. His arms moved in a blur, as he performed a series of intricate slashes and thrusts, Arya only barely being able to dodge. Upon his next thrust, she sidestepped him and, placing a foot behind his, pushed down on his chest forcing Eragon to the ground. With Eragon now pinned down, Arya was able to separate long enough to recover her blade.

Arya kept her distance, in order to catch her breath, as Eragon slowly staggered upright. Both were breathing heavily, with satisfying smiles upon their lips.

This is completely different from my fight with her in Farthen Dur, Eragon thought. Back then, I wasn’t able to keep up with her whatsoever, and she was still ill at the time.

They continued to stare each other down, too out of breath to move. After a minute had gone by, Eragon and Arya both regained control over their breathing, their eyes relit with enough intensity that would make a beorn cower before them.

“Well then, let’s continue our dance, shall we?” Eragon asked, lifting his sword parallel to the ground pointing at her with all the authority he could muster.

“With pleasure,” Arya eagerly replied to the challenge.

Both figures vanished from sight as they jumped into the air towards each other.

****

Roran couldn’t believe his eyes. Right here, before him, was a battle unmatched by all. It took every fiber of his being to resist the urge to blink, as he did not want to miss even an instant of the fight. He knew elves were fast, but this was at a level he couldn’t even comprehend. Both Eragon and Arya were simply two blurs to him, blue and green, constantly connecting and separating, neither gaining ground on the other.

Just then, he heard a wail of pain. The voice was all too familiar, and Roran saw Brisingr fly through the air, Eragon clutching at his right wrist.

Amazing…but I suppose this ends it. There’s no way he can fight with a broken wrist without first healing it! Roran thought, disappointed his cousin had lost. As he was about to approach Eragon, he noticed, however, that both Eragon and Arya still had that fierceness in their eyes. Neither of them were ready to end the fight yet.

****

With a second wind, Eragon sprung backwards towards his sword and picked it up with his left hand. He swung the blade around experimentally to get used to the feeling again. Arya was in the center, patiently waiting for him to retrieve Brisingr. They circled around each other, retracting their distance with each step. Wary were the warriors, for they knew, one wrong move could end in their defeat.

Arya tightened the grip on her elven blade, her gaze fixed upon Eragon. As they got within ten feet of each other, Eragon took the initiative. He charged at her, aiming a deadly stab towards her shoulder. Without flinching, Arya took a step to the right, dodging the blow. With her elven speed, she attempted to break his other wrist by swinging her blade upwards at it.

Quickly, Eragon moved his forearm down, slamming it against her own. She momentarily loosened her grip, retreating a step back just in time to dodge an elbow to her chin. Eragon then spun to the right, pivoting around his left leg. He raised his right one, kicking back with his heels. Caught off-guard, Arya took the full blunt of the attack, flying back several feet.

Now on her hands and knees, Arya clutched her stomach, coughing in pain. Using her sword as support, she slowly stood back up and composed herself. A grin spread on her face; she hadn’t been this evenly matched in years. Once Arya managed to collect herself, both she and Eragon sprung at each other to continue their bout.

****

The Queen of the Skies was returning from her hunt. Eager to be reunited with her partner-of-her-heart-and-mind, she spread her consciousness out to find Eragon. Realizing he’s still at the sparring grounds, she tilted her wings and changed her course.

Upon arrival, she saw a huge crowd gathered around two pointed-ears-two-legs, performing an exquisite dance with their metal-fangs. Her partner-of-her-heart-and-mind was fighting on even grounds with the emerald-eyed-princess. Saphira glided towards the bone-shattering-ground, landing lightly upon it as to not disturb the fighting. Several of the Varden around her backed away in fright.

She lifted her majestic head and twisted her neck in order to gain a better view of the fight. Her partner-of-her-heart-and-mind was covered in wounds, his right wrist broken. Across from him, the emerald-eyed-princess was equally worn down.

Within a few minutes, her partner-of-her-heart was pinned to the ground, the metal-fang inches from his neck. Likewise the emerald-eyed-princess-warrior had the blue-metal-fang at her own neck.

****

Both warriors were down, too tired to move. After hours of fighting, the match ended in a tie. Rich laughter broke the silence, emanated from Arya. Surprised, Eragon relished at the beautiful sound, a big smile across his face. The crowd burst out cheering at the end of such an amazing fight. In the back, Saphira opened her mighty jaws and released a deafening roar. The Varden all momentarily froze in shock, and then redoubled their cheering.

Roran walked up to his cousin now, completely awestruck. He lifted Eragon up from the grounds, picking up Brisingr in his hand.

“That was simply amazing Eragon! I’ve never seen the likes of it!” Roran excitedly said, smiling at his cousin.

Grinning, Eragon asked, “Could you put me down over by Saphira? I’m too exhausted to move myself.”

The crowd parted ways for the mighty Rider and his cousin to pass through. Once they reached Saphira, Roran placed Eragon down by her side, his back leaning against her. Roran returned once more to the midst of the crowd, bringing Arya back. He placed her next to Eragon so they could both rest in peace with Saphira watching over the two.

“Listen, Eragon, I have to go prepare. Nasuada is sending me off in a reconnaissance mission for Belatona,” Roran said, looking down at his worn out cousin.

Eragon nodded his head in understanding, too tired to be able to respond.

Saphira lowered her head, her large sapphire eye watching over Eragon.

You should heal that, she said, sending him an image of his own wrist. I’ll lend you some of my energy, Little One.

With a burst of energy flowing through him now, Eragon placed his left hand over his right wrist, and whispered, “Waise heill.” He felt a tingling sensation upon his wrist, as the effects of the spell took place. Within minutes, his wrist was mended, and Eragon twisted it around, examining the handiwork. Satisfied, he went on with healing the other bruises upon his body.

Arya was watching him throughout the entire process, a smile on her face. She couldn’t believe that the person sitting beside her now was the same kid back in Farthen Dur.

He’s grown far stronger, she observed. No longer is he a child who needs looking after.

Once Eragon finished, he looked over at Arya and noticed her staring. Their eyes met, and once more, their heart started beating faster.

“Here, let me heal that for you,” Eragon said, as he moved closer.

“Thanks,” Arya replied in a kind voice, turning her head away from Eragon.

Eragon concentrated on healing her wounds, using Saphira’s energy when he ran low. Arya would stare off into the distance, as though she was thinking something on a deeper level. She would occasionally take a peek at Eragon while he’s working, her eyes softening and a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

Saphira amused herself by watching the two. She knew Eragon was deeply in love with Arya, he never hid that fact. Arya had rejected him twice already, but lately, she seems to be closer to Eragon than ever before. The previous Arya would not have allowed Eragon to heal her own wounds, her eyes always filled with sadness. But the one sitting before Saphira was different. She seemed less reserved around Eragon, more at peace. Her eyes would have a hint of happiness whenever she stared at him, and her lips always twitching, trying to suppress a smile.

Happiness, sorrow, and jealousy welled up within Saphira. She was happy that Eragon had found someone to love, and who might love him in return; sad that she was going to be alone, unsure if she would ever meet her nest mate; and jealous of what Eragon and Arya were sharing, albeit in secret.

Saphira rubbed her powerful consciousness against Arya, asking for entrance. Once Arya realized it was Saphira, she lowered her barrier and allowed her in.

What is it, Saphira? Arya asked, in a not unkindly tone.

When do you plan on telling him, Arya? Saphira asked in return, shielding her conversation with Arya from Eragon.

Frowning slightly, Arya looked up at Saphira in the eyes, and cautiously asked, What do you mean, Saphira?

I see the way you look at him. You may be able to fool Eragon, and you might even be able to fool yourself, but you can never fool a dragon. It’s obvious you’re in love with him, so why do you persist on denying his love for you?

Shock spread across Arya’s face, but she quickly masked it. You’re mistaken! I don’t love him, I just see him as a good friend! Arya defended.

Chuckling, Saphira replied, Why, then, are you getting so flustered about it, Arya? You stare at him whenever you get the chance, longing in your eyes. Whenever he returns his gaze, you would look away, as though embarrassed. That is no way to react to a good friend!

Arya looked away in silence, unsure how to answer.

You and Eragon have both lost so much in this war, why not give yourselves a chance to be happy? Saphira said, moving her head in front of Arya once more. After a moment of silence, Saphira continued, I won’t tell Eragon, but you should make up your mind about him soon. I will not watch as you cause further pain for him, by allowing advances and turning him down. She then lowered her head, resting it upon her forelegs.

Arya sat still, staring into the distance. Have I truly fallen for him? He’s shown me nothing but kindness, and I do feel as though I can be more open around him. But is that really love? Or am I just happy to be in the presence of one who genuinely cares for me..?

“..ya…Arya!” Eragon yelled, bringing her back to reality. “What ails you, Arya? You seem distracted.”

She looked at him, seeing the worry upon his face. With a deep breath, she replied, “It’s nothing, I’m fine. Thanks for healing me.” And without a second thought, she stood up and left his side, leaving him sitting there confused.

This post has been edited by bPhoenix: 24 October 2009 - 03:53 AM

[bPhoenix]

I have a lot of free time on my hand, so I just kept on writing. Might have chapter four done by tonight as well. Enjoy!

Chapter 3 – A New Leader

Eragon was leaning against Saphira, breathing in the morning air. Much had happened since the day started, but it was still far from over. He closed his eyes in thought, while simultaneously resting from the duel he just ended.

Saphira... he began, will we ever see the end to this gruesome war?

But of course, Eragon. We have to. You must not give up hope, else all the lives that have been sacrificed for our cause will all be in vain, she kindly replied.

I know that, it’s just... I’m tired. I’m tired of the constant slaughtering, I’m tired of watching lives fall before me, and I’m tired of losing those I hold dear.

All the more reasons to end the war sooner. However that won’t come to be if you cannot get your act straight. You are now the Elder Rider of the New Order, have confidence in yourself and your abilities, Saphira said, lowering her head and touching Eragon’s brow with her snout.

Straightening up, Eragon opened his eyes and stared right into Saphira’s. He saw the kindness and love within them, and he couldn’t help but smile.

What would I be without you? Eragon asked, thankful for her presence.

Why, you would be but a simple farm-hand, playing with dirt for the rest of your life, she jested.

Laughing, Eragon replied, I wouldn’t mind that so much, farming can be quite enjoyable.

What a silly activity to enjoy. We may be joined in our heart-and-mind, but sometimes I just can’t understand the way you two-legs think, Saphira snorted.

Leaning back, he closed his eyes and said, I love you, Saphira.

And I, you, Little One.

They remained silent for some time, just thankful to be together. Then Eragon felt a consciousness heading towards him, and he opened his eyes to confirm a messenger treading across the sparring grounds.

Seems it’s time to delve back into reality, Eragon said, standing up and preparing himself as the messenger approaches.

Wary of the majestic dragon before him, the messenger addressed Eragon, “Greetings Shadeslayer. Lady Nasuada has requested your presence.”

“Thank you, I’ll be on my way now,” Eragon said, dismissing the man.

Bowing, the messenger backed away, keeping his eyes upon Saphira. Eragon then proceeded to climb onto Saphira’s bare back. Crouching low, Saphira pushed her legs against the ground, jumping high into the air and unfurling her wings. Her powerful wings flapped downwards, and they immediately gained altitude. Once in the air, Saphira angled herself towards Nasuada’s pavilion, and took off.

They arrived within minutes, Saphira gliding gently towards the ground. Eragon jumped off her back, landing perfectly upon the surface, something that would have been impossible for him to perform before the Agaeti Blodhren, as his weak human legs would’ve broken upon impact. He turned and proceeded towards the large tent, Saphira by his side. At the entrance stood six guards, known as the Nighthawks, consisting of two people from each race save for the elves.

“Eragon Shadeslayer, I’ve come on request of Lady Nasuada,” Eragon said to the captain.

The captain, a dwarven man with a thick red beard, turned to the entrance flap and stated, “Eragon Shadeslayer, requesting an audience, my Lady.”

“Let him in,” a commanding voice replied from behind the flap.

The guards parted aside, allowing Eragon to gain entrance into the tent. Saphira moved to the back of the pavilion where a larger flap had been opened for her to stick her head through, in order to take part in the conversation.

Once inside, Eragon quickly scanned the tent, taking in every detail. It was large and practically empty, save for those few objects she deemed was a necessity. In a corner was her cot and wardrobe. A large table was placed at the center, maps and scrolls littering the table. A smaller stand was set to the side, where a vase was placed. The purple blossoms in the vase gave color to the dull tent. Nasuada sat behind the table, her handmaid tending to the bandages on her forearms.

Stepping closer, Eragon gave a small bow, straightened up, and patiently waited for Nasuada to start. Nasuada looked up from the maps, staring into Eragon’s eyes, as though determining what to do with him. With a deep sigh, she relaxed her tensed muscles, losing all the composure she had before. Eragon noted how exhausted she looked. Being the leader of the Varden at such a young age would be a huge burden on anybody.

“Eragon,” Nasuada began, “I understand that you are now the Lead Rider of the New Order.”

Eragon nodded, “Yes, my Lady.”

“Dammit Eragon, drop the formalities! You are among friends, and I’d rather not have to address you as I do the other lords and nobles of Orrin’s court,” Nasuada frowned. In a softer expression, she continued, “So what do you plan on doing with your newfound position?”

Smiling, Eragon answered, “In the meantime, I will continue with my support of the Varden. Should a new rider appear, it would be my duty to train him in the ways of the old order.”

Nasuada stared into his eyes, determining the truth of his words. “Very well, I hope I can hold you to your words.” Taking in a deep breath, Nasuada stood up and walked around the table, regaining her earlier composure. “Then I release you, Eragon Shadeslayer, from your oaths of fealty to me,” she firmly stated.

Shocked, Eragon looked at her in disbelief. She had a powerful card in her hands, and she just removed it without a second’s hesitation. Saphira was equally surprised, staring at Nasuada intently.

She’s releasing the chains bound around you. Either she has complete trust in you or she’s got a hidden objective, Saphira said.

Aye, but I can’t imagine anything she has to gain by removing me from her service.

Nor can I.

Cautiously, Eragon asked, “I’m grateful for the release, truly I am. But I’m curious… why?”

Nasuada returned to her chair and answered, “You are far too important a person to be following the commands of a single human like myself. As a rider, you have to keep balance between all races. It would be in the best interest of Alagaesia if you did not favor any one group.”

Though this was quite a surprise, she speaks the truth. As a rider, Eragon, you are a leader, not a follower. Now that you aren’t under her service, you have more freedom to do what you must to bring Galbatorix down, Saphira said, content with Nasuada’s decision.

“You should know, I do this only because I have faith in you Eragon. I hope you won’t betray my trust and let the Varden down,” Nasuada said, her eyes penetrating Eragon.

“I wouldn’t dare to,” Eragon replied, and bowing slightly, “I thank you for releasing me.”

Satisfied with the results, Nasuada once again relaxed herself. After a moment of silence, she continued, “As I’ve mentioned before, should I die in the midst of battle, you are to take my position as leader of the Varden. The people look up to you. They see you as a symbol of hope. No one will oppose my decision, and the council of elders will not be able to do anything about it. However, there is a problem. You lack experience leading. I’ve seen you fight, and you are a mighty warrior, but never before have you been given command over anyone. My advice to you is to go out and gain more knowledge about leading. Perhaps you can follow Roran in his scouting trip tomorrow and learn from him, he has a lot of raw talent for this sort of stuff.”

Eragon’s eyes widened as he contemplated what she just said. The prospect of being able to learn more while simultaneously spending time with his cousin intrigued him, but there were issues to mention.

“If I go, who would protect the Varden from Murtagh?” Eragon asked, despite already knowing the answer.

“You told me yourself that Murtagh’s dragon took a great deal of damage from his fight. I would think that the Varden will not have to worry about Murtagh attacking for awhile,” she answered.

“But then, what of Saphira? She can’t come along on a scouting mission!” Eragon frantically replied.

“Eragon, if you cannot sacrifice your desires to do what is necessary then perhaps you are unfit to lead.”

Again, there’s wisdom in her words. While I’m sure you are capable of leading, it doesn’t hurt to gain more experience pertaining to the matter. It would be wise to heed her advice, Saphira suggested.

Logically speaking, I can’t argue with you Saphira. However, this is a scouting mission. You’re too bulky to join us, as we would need to move in secrecy. I’d rather not have to part ways with you, Eragon replied.

Nor I, you, Little One. But this is a necessity. We cannot put our wants over the needs of the Varden. If this trip helps you become a better leader, then all the more reasons you should go.

After thinking this over more thoroughly, Eragon caved in. “I’m sorry, you’re right. I will go with Roran tomorrow morning.”

“Then I suggest you go and pack. I have other matters to attend to now. You are dismissed,” Nasuada said, turning her attention back to the map.

This post has been edited by bPhoenix: 14 October 2009 - 01:25 PM

[BaneOfGalbatorix]

Wow, as a new writer, I have to say that this fanfic is beyond what I've seen as far as beginnings go. I'm looking forward as to how this story progresses.

--Bane

Wow, as a new writer, I have to say that this fanfic is beyond what I've seen as far as beginnings go. I'm looking forward as to how this story progresses.

--Bane

[Thunder Gulch]

As with your beginning chapter, these two were another great addition to your story. I didn't seem to find any mistakes as I was too busy being awed by your writing.


Your second was simply amazing. The fight scene was greatly detailed but you were lacking some description on the camp. And great to see that you remebered that eragon can fight with both of his hands and your Arya seems to be getting along fine, since we have no idea how she will behave in book iv.

Your second chapter again the emotions were awesome and the description were seems to be improving. When Eragon was flying atop Saphira, you could have given us an idea of what the camp looked like. But I think the details weren't too sorely missed.


Hope to see you tonight for chapter iv.

-OTF

[rose dragomir]

Those were some preety good chapters