Does anyone else really love the Inheritance Cycle but wishes there was some fanfics out there that were about the characters or Riders of old read the books. And that's where I come on. Hello people! Dreamshadow102 here ready to start another story! Honestly lately I've had so many new and good ideas and it takes ages to get it all down on pare or should I say computer screen. Just ignore my really bad sense of humour. Anyway if you read this it'd be cool if you could drop a review of what you think.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Eragon.

Vrael ran a weary hand through his hair as he studied the anxious and angry faces of his fellow Riders. The betrayal of Galbatorix and his traitorous followers had hit everyone hard; no one had ever expected this to happen and now the Riders were on the brink of being exterminated. Hundreds were dead and the Eldunari had been enslaved by the mad king, gone insane on grief and greediness.

Behind him, Umaroth shifted and Vrael felt affection that knew no bounds rush through him towards his mighty, white dragon. He loved Umaroth with all of his heart and even now he could feel the wonder and sense of completeness that Umaroth provided.

Know this my friend, I will love you forever as my companion, heart, mind and soul, Umaroth.

A single tear ran down Umaroth's cheek at his Rider's words.

And I you, little one, even after death.

Vrael turned to rest a hand on his dragon's scaly cheek and they looked deep into each others eyes, silently communicating. Then he looked once again over the assessment, bled company. To his left sat the Elven King Evandar and his proud and fierce mate Islanzadi. The arrival of the elven princess, Arya, despite all the turmoil had only served to strengthen their love for each other and the pair still looked at each other like newly weds, fresh in their union and wondering what they had done, to deserve such a glorious partner for life. Vrael was happy for them and he wished the, very many happy years to come.

On his right were his most trusted advisers Oromis and Glaedr, the wisest of the Order and with compassion that surmounted that of everyone else combined. Oromis was said to be one of the greatest Riders to ever live and Vrael couldn't agree more; the old elf was his greatest friend.

Beyond them sat Arva and Valdr, silent and impassive in the face of war. Three more Elders finished their company, Lakshmael, Frida and Ormund, as well as the legendary elf smith Rhunon.

"My friends, what can we do to halt the tides of evil that threaten to drown us with their power?" Vrael asked sadly. There was silence and Vrael watched as expressions of anger crossed everyone's faces save Oromis. The old elf locked eyes with Glaedr Of The Gold and they hardened on silent agreement.

"Sometimes it is not the solution we must look for but the paths that get us to the solutions. " Silence once again greeted the elfs words and Vrael motioned for him to continue.

"We have been fighting galvatorix wit brute strength and skills and maybe that is not the answer as he wields more of both the latter and the former. No, all we have suceeded in so far is top get more innocent lives lost and diminish our own troops."

He paused momentarily, hesitant but a blink from Glaedr seemed to drive him on.

"Earlier apackage arrived for me labelled for the Riders and the Elven Rulers, I do not know who it was sent from or what it's purpose is but now does seem the best time to find out. I tis my belief that the contents holds the key to our survival."

There was along silence as everyone contemplated his words. Finally Arva spoke up,

"Let us not tarry then Oromis, where is this package?"

The elf produced it from his saddle bag, slightly crumpled but still intact. He passed it to Vrael who took it with suspicious eyes.

"Open it," urged Islanzadi, leaning forwards, her emerald eyes wide. Vrael nodded slowly before ripping away the paper. A single sheet of paper fluttered out.

"Read it," Oromis said, his eyes sparkling like the lake where he was born.

Dear Oromis, Vrael, Arva, Frida, Lakshmael, Ormund, Islanzadi and Evandar.

This letter should reach you in the midst of the Fall of the Dragon Riders as the snow sets into the ground and the winds grow cold and blow from the west. I have sent you the tool that will decide whether you prevail or perish in this war. Think carefully and respect the source as he is the greatest man to ever live and his wisdom and compassion will be known for millenia to come. Your fate rests on how you ise the information given and being able to choose the right thing. Good luck.

Death

A quiet so suffocating it swallowed all sound followed as the shocked faces of those assembled were revealed. The letter disappeared in a flash of fire and left behind was a book. Steeling his nerves, Vrael reached out to examine it.

"Eragon," he murmured causing everyone's head to snap up. A blue dragoness dominated the front cover with the words Eragon printed beneath it.

Oromis cleared his throat,

"Read the blurb, perhaps." Vrael nodded and turned it over. Taking a deep breath and casting his eye around everyone he began to read.

When Eragon finds a polished blue stone in the forest, he thinks it is the lucky discovery of a poor farm boy; perhaps it will buy his family meat for the winter.

"It sounds very much like a dragon egg," mused Oromis. Understanding dawned on him,

"The dragon on the cover. The blue dragon. This boy is the Rider."

Evandar frowned but didn't comment.

But when the stone brings a dragon hatchling, Eragon soon realizes he has stumbled upon a legacy nearly as old as the Empire.

Silence.

"The...Empire?" Islanzadi managed, a look of trepidation marring her beautiful features.

"Yes," Oromis whispered,"the civilistaion that will rise from this war, under Galbatorix's rule. This boy must be from the future." Vrael sat stunned; how was this even possible?

Read, little one, Umaroth pressed, his head woven around the back of the chair.

Overnight his simple life is shattered, and he is thrust into a perilous new world of destiny, magic, and power. Can Eragon take up the mantle of the legendary Dragon Riders?

Vrael stumbled to a halt. Legendary. The Order must lose the war and all must have perished.

"We died," Arva stated shortly. Looks of hopelessness appeared from around the table.

The fate of the Empire may rest in his hands...

"This boy is either the key to Galbatorix's success or his downfall," Evandar observed,"Now we just wait and see which way he sways." Islanzadi bore a dark look,

"But with Galbatorix on the throne I would say the former; the man is a tyrant!"

Oromis smiled peacefully,

"Wait and see, my dear, wait and see..."

Try and get another chappie up sometime this week. Here's some fanfic recs:

Eldunari by wildskysong

Edoc'sil by wildskysong

To Move Forward by Rainxoxo

Reversed Life by Rainxoxo

They are amazing!

Dreamshadow102:-)