ORAD Chapter 1: [Untitled]

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One more step was all it took for Ismira, daughter of Katrina and niece of Eragon Shadeslayer, to reach the top of the falls, the place where her grandmother and namesake fell to her death. Though people still regarded the mountains of the Spine with fear, it was on account of the Urgals who lived deep within its mysterious recesses, and not because of superstition and things better left unexplained. At the top of the falls, she gazed down towards her home in Carvahall, now a bustling town in Palancar Valley. Her father, Roran, often told her stories about how he and her uncle set forth and brought down the mad king, Galbatorix. Though Ismira had been but only a babe, she could still remember Eragon's face.

"I thought I'd find you up here," came a voice from behind her.

She quickly whirled around to find another girl, Hope, the daughter of Horst and Elain. She had also been born during the war, and with a cleft lip, which Eragon healed miraculously. Since then, she had grown into a great beauty, no doubt because of the love and care that the townspeople of Carvahall showed towards her.

"It's breathtaking up here," Ismira replied. "It almost feels like flying."

"Well, don't sprout wings on me now," Hope cautioned. "Your father asked me to come fetch you up here. It's almost time for supper."  

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Before Ismira's time, the route leading up and down the falls would have taken a few days journey, on account of the wild and uncivilized surroundings, but Ismira learned that soon after they returned, Roran had planned to use the falls to attract people from all over Alagaesia, so a pathway was carved into the mountains, a direct road leading to and from Carvahall. Now, the journey only took a mere hour to complete. Headed towards the castle that Roran had built entirely with his own hands, Ismira walked inside to find that the dining tables had already been set up, and Horst and his family already at the table.

"Ah, Ismira, Hope," Horst said jubilantly, slightly red from drinking. "Welcome back."

Albreich and Baldor, who were both around Roran's age, already had their own forges in cities far from Carvahall, but they were both present tonight, chatting with Roran. Age had done Roran and Katrina well. Though the stresses of the war aged them, sixteen years later, they still looked to be in the prime of their youth. And it was sixteen years ago, today, that Ismira was born.  

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And it was a grand event as well. All the villagers from Carvahall arrived one after the other in order to celebrate another year gone by. Ismira's younger siblings all ran around the table, as mead, lips, and jubilance flowed freely from the grand hall. As the night wore on, the party showed no signs of stopping, save for younger children who needed to go to bed, and pregnant wives who tired quickly.

"If only Eragon were here," Roran mused.

"I'm sure he's thinking of us," Katrina replied. "The training of Riders is no easy task."

Ismira nodded. Three dragon eggs had already hatched in Alagaesia, and Eragon was sure to have his hands full. Which reminded her of the egg couriers, who were due to make a stop in Carvahall.  

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Ismira had never formally met Eragon face to face, but she vaguely remembered being held by him several times. A face like his was hard to forget.

The party dragged on for another few hours, during which, Ismira basked under the attention. Though she wished that the party had been less extravagant and less of an important event, she had no complaints. As she dragged herself to her bed, open sky crossed the field of her vision, as she sank into the realm of dreams.  

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Not much happened in the coming weeks. Ismira's family had the means to buy whatever they wanted, but they were humble, choosing to work in the fields alongside the people from Carvahall. She liked the work, for it was a welcome distraction from being the earl's daughter, a fact that was blown out of proportion whenever the traders came. They often brought scores of adoring young men competing for her affections. No, her public status was something she did not want to take for granted.

Finally, on a cold winter day, the egg couriers came. A coalition of elves, dwarves, humans, and urgals, they carried with them a number of eggs that were to be ferried around Alagaesia, searching for the next Rider. They would stay there for several days, before departing for lands unknown. As usual, every time they came, Ismira would take her place in line, alongside Hope, waiting in anticipation.

"You know, waiting in line is getting old," Hope said after half an hour of waiting.  

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"Isn't it exciting though?" asked Ismira. "The apprehension, the suspense?"

"For you, maybe," Hope admitted, "but to tell you the truth, this isn't really something I feel like committing to."

Ismira looked at her friend incredulously. They had been doing this since the moment they turned 13 and their parents allowed them to participate. Ismira just couldn't imagine doing this without Hope.

"I just want to settle down, and start a family," Hope explained. "Adventures in faraway lands just don't have that same appeal to me anymore. I've seen the men fawn after you, Ismira, and it's made me realize that I want someone to love me and take care of me and my family."

"I understand," Ismira said. "But today is special, I know it."

"Alright, but remember your future."

They waited together in line for a few more minutes before they finally were able to approach the egg. The egg was perfectly oval in shape, silvery, and as far as Ismira could tell, devoid of any flaws. When the handlers moved the egg, the reflection of the sun sent waves of sparkling light coursing across the egg in a scintillating pattern. It was beautiful, a work of art, and very unique. Hope went first, gently reaching out a hand to touch the egg. She stood like that for a little while, closing her eyes and relaxing. Nothing happened, so she opened her eyes and sighed, moving out of line. Ismira walked up forward to the egg, completely and utterly mystified. Tenderly and cautiously reaching out her hand, she lightly touched the egg. As she did, she thought she could feel some kind of light, but noticeable pressure against her mind. Looking down at the egg, she noticed that it started to wobble and shake. The elves glanced at it and back at Ismira, talking to each other in the ancient language. Ismira didn't completely understand the ancient language herself, but she knew of the principles behind it. She glanced back at the egg, which had developed a crack. She heard peeps coming from the egg. One of the elves, a tall, raven-haired male, grabbed her by the hand, and led her into a tent, the protests of Hope echoing behind her as she was led away. The egg followed soon after, and was set upon a table, where it started to violently rock and shake.  

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While all this was going on, Ismira was speechless from shock. Her dreams were finally coming true, unless this in itself was a dream. If so, it must've been a very elaborate dream. The egg continued to shake, rocking ever more violently on the table. A crack appeared on the egg, widening until the egg split itself in two, revealing a wet, sticky, silver dragon on the inside.

"... I said, let me through!" came a voice from outside, making Ismira jump. She turned around just as Hope walked through the tent flap, jaw dropping in amazement as she beheld the dragon.

Turning back to the elf who led her into the tent, she gestured to the dragon, as if to ask if she could touch it. The elf inclined his head, and nodded. Slowly reaching out, she lightly touched the dragon on the head with the palm of her right hand.  

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At that instant, a wave of ice-cold energy surged through the palm of her hand, saturating her entire body. It didn't hurt, rather it was shocking, and just as soon as it started, it ended. Gasping for breath she looked around to see Hope gazing at her in concern, while the elves remained impassive and emotionless.

"So it begins," said the elf who brought her in. His accent was clearly defined, and had a somewhat musical tone to it. Ismira had never heard an elf speak, but had heard stories from her father. But nothing could compare to listening to the real thing. She thought she could listen to it for days on end without ever needing another thing in life.

But there was something else that concerned her. She suddenly felt wide open, though she was confined in a rather spacious, though insignificantly small tent, as if she could reach out and touch another person's thoughts with the barest flick of her mind. Also, she felt the light mental touch of some other being, from which she felt hunger, as well as an undying affection. Glancing around, she saw only the dragon, which squealed loudly and opened its mouth wide, as if expecting some food.  

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Ismira was in such shock, that she didn't notice Hope shaking her shoulder.

OOC: This monologuing derp herp not even sure what's going on, derp derp derp derp derp derp I can't write fiction for crap  

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"A dragon, Ismira! A dragon! Oh my gosh, I'm so jealous."

But Ismira could do nothing but stare at the dragon, her dragon. The only thing she was aware of was the fact that before, she had felt incomplete. But now, she felt truly alive. And the first thing she felt was hunger, although she herself wasn't hungry.

"Here," an elf said, gingerly handing over a strip of meat to her. As Ismira looked the elf in the eye, accepting the meat, she could see that in his eyes there was a tint of sadness as he handed the meat over, something she wondered at.

Cautiously moving towards the dragon who was keening and sniffing the meat from the table, Ismira slowly extended her hand, with the meat situated on the palm of her hand.  

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She placed the meat in front of the dragon, jerking her hand back as the dragon snapped up the meat with lightning-fast reflexes. Cautiously, she reached out her hand again, and relaxed as the dragon allowed her contact. But the moment she touched the dragon she let out a cry of surprise. A massive wave of energy surged through her arm, diffusing through her body within a matter of seconds. Once she recovered, everyone looked at her with alarm (except for the elves, who looked on with neutral stares).

"Ismira, are you okay?" Hope asked, touching her arm.

Still in shock, Ismira nodded. Right now, she was more focused upon the itching sensation in her palm. Turning it over, she found that her palm was glowing. A silvery patch of skin had appeared on her skin, glowing radiantly in the tent.

"It's official," Ismira said after a while. "I'm a Rider."