A. Now I did rewrite this I added a little more detail, mostly on things that will happen later on and more Evie/Murtagh interactions.

B. I have decided to make my story happen right after the 3 book. So if have not read it I'm sorry. But in all honesty you haven't missed a thing. If you want to know what happened to go on wiki they will give a summary of it.

C. I hope the grammar is all good

D. I know this plot is cheesy and way over done but this is my take on it

E. This girl may be a little mary sue but I tried to make her so she wasn't

F. if you like the story but think it could be better I'm open for ideas.

G. reviews are always nice

H. I don't own Murtagh Eragon Arya Galbatorix Angela or anyone else of that sort.

I. Eaodrial is pronounced Eh oh dree all

SUMMARY Evelyn Winston-King, daughter of a British archaeologist, finds a green rock at her father's dig. Somehow she is transported through time and space to help fight a war she has nothing to do with, but she soon finds it is not that simple, and in fact there are greater forces at work. OC/M

here goes... olgame

!PROLOGUE!

The leaves were changing, dying, as they always do in the fall. Animals were sparsely seen. If they were, they were finding last-minute food before their long four-month sleep.

The air was still warm, it was only early October, but still the people of the Varden and Surda could be seen preparing themselves for the cold. It would be easy to assume that no battle would be fought in the coming winter months but it would be unwise to not be prepared for it.

Two months. It has been two months since the Siege of Feinster. Two months since the death of Oromis and Glaedr, at the hands of Murtagh.

It had angered Eragon that his so-called brother could have allowed this; Galbatorix's use of his body to kill. Eragon could not understand it. He said before he understood the workings of a True Name but he does not, because he cannot appreciate what Murtagh has gone through. He does not truly understand the depth and meaning of it and therefore does not understand how hard it could be to not allow these things from happening.

Two months passed with little effort on each side. There was the occasional attack; each army would ambush the passing one. Each side thought the other was planning something.

It was nearing the end of this dreary two-month period that a Halfling was found wandering just south of Helgrind. Roran Garrowsson found him, cousin of the great Eragon Shadeslayer, on one of his many assault missions on the Empire. The Halfling spoke of the last egg, the green egg, the egg that would finally even out the playing field should the Varden take it. He spoke of a place hidden so well that he merely stumbled on it by accident and so well guarded, by loyal legion, the Black Hand and the terrible Murtagh Morzansson and his great red dragon, that he would have been killed had he not been any less careful. Past Dras-Leona he said in a pit so dark that light itself would extinguish, enveloped in darkness.

It was decided then this would the Varden's chance. A mission company was made; Eragon and his great blue dragon Saphira Bjartskulr, the twelve elven spellweavers, including Arya and three best fighters of each race, left to steal the stone. In which were; Roran a man, Garzhvog an Urgal, Durnark a dwarf and Trianna the leader of Du Vrangr Gata.

The plan would have gone successful. The fight was immense, many died. The great dragons of their time, Saphira and Thorn, fought in the air roaring above the heads the fighter below. With immense force Saphira took hold of her opponent and threw him to the ground violently. Thorn's body crashed into the chamber's walls, causing them to tumble to the ground, allowing Eragon slip in and take the egg.

But he did not do so unnoticed; unfortunately his great opponent, his own brother, Murtagh followed him. The two fought with words; pleading the other to leave for they wished no harm on the other. As Eragon attempted to leave and Murtagh forced by vow could not allow this, a swordfight broke out and Murtagh had so cruelly dislocated Eragon's shoulder to disable him so he would not have to kill his brother. Roran came to Eragon's aide while Murtagh was not paying attention. Roran sliced off the tip of his ring finger on his right hand.

This loss of the tip of his finger is a feature that he shares with his father; Morzan. The reason for this is unknown, though many scholars and historians believe it was most likely cut off during a battle or, as was often then, cut off because he was caught stealing.

Still, it angered Murtagh that he should bare the same resemblance as his father, even if it was just the loss of a finger.

In the brief moment of pain Eragon jolted Murtagh back with magic and Roran and he fled with the green egg. There was no way for Eragon to escape and his main objective was to secure the egg in the hands of the Varden. If he escaped it would leave the chance that the egg could end up with Galbatorix and the war would be one to three. So he took the egg and sent it to the egg to the Varden with magic.

But it did not make it there.

Eragon did escape, as did his entire company, though many were severely hurt. For the next week the Varden and the Empire searched. Searched for the egg or if it had come to this…the dragon and its rider.

But the egg was neither in Alagaësia nor even across the sea in Alalëa.

Chapter One : Evie

I like to say that I've matured from all this and that I've come to terms with it too, I hope. What Eaodrial did is… logical and I never thought I could forgive her. It's just… hard. Being taken away from my home with out any explanation was one thing but forcing me to go back home after everything I did for her and her world… after meeting those people. I wonder sometimes what would happen if I never went or if I had a choice… I'd probably not go.

I suppose it would help if I said a few things about myself. I don't like chocolate ice cream, in fact I don't really like chocolate in the first place, I'll eat it but doesn't mean I have to like it.

Ok, I guess that was a little useless fact but it is true.

I am average. Indeed, quite simple and average and I liked it like that; there was no pressure. I didn't excel at anything and nothing was my forte so I never had to better myself to stay top-game. Nor did I fail anything so, again I never had to strive to stay on top. I'm not saying I am lazy or stupid, like I said; I am average.

However, I am good at something, well two things; I am very fast. There is no room for modesty. I am fast. I am dangerously wicked in running. I am so, so, so grateful for my speed. Had I any idea how much it would come in hand in my near future… I am also quite witty and clever and always know what to say at times. But in physical situations, sticky and sudden situations, I am a total loss.

I've been home now for 20 years and I decided now is the time to write this out before I forget. I find that, as I'm writing, everything is coming back so vividly and I feel a little home sick, really.

I come from an odd situation; I never really grew up in one place, I've got duel citizenship. My mum is an American nurse and my dad, an archeologist, comes from a fairly wealthy British family. I can't say that my dad's family was jumping with joy when he announced his impending marriage, but then again I wouldn't know; I wasn't born at the time.

They accepted me, in fact they love me, my grand mother absolutely adores me and dotes on me the most and I, shamefully, rub it in my cousins' faces.

I was born in Brighton, East Sussex, on December 24 1971, without any allergies and deformations, perfectly healthy and beautiful baby girl. All of my relatives, mostly my aunts, wanted to eat me; oh you're so cute I could munch you up like a raspberry pie! But, hey, I liked the attention.

My mum, Susan King, was 28 when she gave birth to me. I look more her than my dad but I have his dark, rich brow eyes, mum has blue eyes.

Mum's beautiful and I totally get why dad fell for her. She was average height with black hair and crazy blue eyes. We share the same thin nose, heart shape face and our long dark eyelashes. My favorite part of her was her eyes. She also had this dark freckle above her eyebrow, it always reminded me of an eyebrow pricing.

However, to my grandmother's grand pride, I inherited the Winston lip, which consists of my lower lip being considerably smaller than my upper. This was my least favorite part of me; it made me look like a duck.

Well, actually there are lots of things I don't like about me but I'm sure that's the case for everyone, for instance I wish my shoulders were a bit wider and my boobs, they could be a little bigger. Maybe then I'll get a guy. But story is not about my body parts.

Anyway, my father, being an archeologist traveled a lot, and I mean a lot. So mum and me where left alone…at the mercy of my grandmother, her friends and relatives. As I said they didn't approve of mum, Gran's friends didn't like her because they wanted dad to marry their daughter. I suppose you could say mum couldn't take it anymore and with dad gone there was no one to defend her so she moved back home and asked for a divorce. Dad was upset, but if that's she wants, he said.

So there I bid farewell to my English home and moved to the States. We moved into a loft, which I thought was so cool. Just like the movies. I kept my accent was a homage to my old life and my new American friends thought I was so cool and exotic besides it was a good conversation starter but slowly my accent fused an American accent, so have this weird thick hybrid thing, I like though, it makes me different.

Still kept in touch with Gran, dad and everyone. I would take vacations back home and sometimes I could bring friends. The family house amazed them mostly because we had butlers. The best part they said, were the Polo players.

My Gran tried to set me up with wealthy and respectable men of good family. Most of them are, evidently, Polo players. I'm not saying that they aren't handsome because they were. Oh my god the most beautiful men, like the ones in magazines. Tall, dark, handsome with clear soft skin and sexy eyes and a smirk that could kill.

Most were nice and good-natured but some were a tad overconfident about them selves and their family tree. That's everything about them; family lineage and money. I don't know what it is but I haven't found the right one yet.

It's not like I repel them immediately it's just happens slowly and with mutual respect. Even though I'm going to inherit dad's cash and Gran's and I came from a very good family, I think it never works because of my trashy behavior. Growing up at an American public school I haven't grown up as elegant as the girls who went to posh schools, that and my hybrid accent are some of the things Gran is trying to grow out of me.

I kept in touch with my dad by letters. I would hear his stories all the time of his adventures. I love hearing them but having to be in those situations scare me, I've learnt a lot from those stories. Besides his letters, he has always been there on every special occasion. One birthday he bought me a little compass with slips onto your watch wrist, it's a useless gift but it comes in handy whenever I'm curious about which way I'm headed.

One birthday I got a beautiful black Chanel dress for Josie's wedding. My dad married again. He thought that I would be angry with him for ditching us but I wasn't in fact I was happy for him besides I've been setting mum up with single men for the past while now, or at least trying.

One year I got a moped and went across Europe with a few friends, not on the same moped of course. But the best birthday gift I got was on my 18th birthday, well it's kind of a birthday/graduation gift; dad booked a plane for me to come and spend the summer with him on one of him expeditions.

I can't say where exactly the dig was because I'm geographically impaired, I think that's why dad got me the compass, but I know the nearest and biggest city is south of the camp, you can see it as a dark bump in the horizon and we are some where in the desert.

There are two ways to get to the dig, camel; the slower and cheap way or jeep faster but expensive. I went by camel with some of the workers, dad was going to come by camel but Josie didn't want to ride in the jeep alone and encouraged him not to, saying camels spit.

I can ride a horse so riding a camel wasn't too hard. When I got there my tent was made up and I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

My name, by the way, is Evelyn Winston-King but most call me Evie or Eve or Evo or whatever comes to mind.

The hot sun pelted on the backs of those unfortunate enough to have to work in the sun. The small cluster of tents gave little, if any comfort to the lucky ones on break. Standing by one of the holes, a tall, erect woman was fighting with her grey streaked hair into a ponytail.

"I don't see why you don't just cut your hair? It's so much easier to manage," a shorter girl, Evelyn, asked Josie with her hands on her hips.

"Yes, well unlike you I don't have such beautiful features; I was graced with these manly ones. One only thing that keeps me looking like a woman is the fact I have long hair." The taller woman answered bitterly.

Evelyn attempted to change the subject by asking, "Josie, have you found anything yet?"

"Yeah, hardly worth anything, just small trinkets, cracked pottery, few coins and an old canon bomb, but it's not like we haven't got enough of those."

A young dark skinned boy came running over to us and stopped in front of me and said in a thick accent, "yo fatha come, he see yo now. He say fast, hurry fast."

Evie hurried, jogging, over to the tent her father was living in, it was larger than most of the diggers tents, though most of them sleep out side, under the stars, but smaller than the artifacts tent.

"Father? You wanted to see me?"

"Ah Evie, how was your day?" he took off his readers to see her better.

"Long and hot. We've hardly found any thing." She explained though I knew he already knew.

"Yes well, after last week, when we found the gate base, I was certain things would diminish in excitement but, yes, I had hoped we would have found a little more than nothing. But never lose hope," he poked he lightly in the shoulder with his readers and smiled.

"You could tell that to Josie, she's so bitter, even the workers know it and they don't speak our langue."

"Please Evie, how many times must I ask you to not call her that? She's your mother and-"

"Dad, she's my step-mum, I can't call her that." It's weird.

He stopped and nodded his head understandingly, "I understand, no on can replace her but try and make an effort to be nice, civil at most," he joked.

"It'll be hard…" he gave me a parental scolding look, "fine, yes."

"Yes dad, I love you."

"Yes dad, I love you." I repeated, rolling my eyes.

There was a commotion outside caught both their attention. There were hardly was uproar like, unless it was lunchtime, so this must be something big. The possibilities of what could happen ran through her mind.

Did someone find something? Is it valuable? No we never find any thing valuable. What if someone fainted? What if they had died from exhaustion? Or died in a collapse?

A low horn interrupted her train of thoughts. It sounded again. Evelyn has never been quick on her feet, mind wise that is, she really is, actually, quite fast, but in any situation where she's just caught off guard she freezes up. Not till the third sound of the horn did she force myself to move, followed the herd and dad to the spot of interest. She felt an odd forbidding feeling, something bad. She rubbed her temple Maybe someone is hurt.

Weaving in and out of on looking workers to stand by her father, who was down on one knee holding his hands out into the pit in front of them, to his left was Josie waving her hand into front of her face to cool her herself down, not bothering to show any interest. Evelyn frowned at her, how could she be so calm? Someone could be baby hurt and she's just standing there without a care in the world.

"Are you okay? You look little white there. Seen a ghost?" Josie commented.

Ignoring her, Eve leaned forward to get a better look into the pit dug out by workers. Inside a few men holding their shovels lined the walls of the hole and waited calmly as one elderly man, who had his back to the rest of them, was fumbling with something in the corner.

When the man turned his dark, sun-tanned face, she was relieved to see no injuries and no marks of pain but rather green rock that was covered in crusty mud, dirt, sand and whatever other debris found the desert. She let out a deep, thankful sigh.

The man took off his clumsy turban and warped it around the rock carefully as his could and handed it to the shaking hands of her father. He was softly bushing the clumps of dirt off with his thumb as his daughter and the crowd leaned in awed by the sparkling sight.

Evie had a strange urge to touch the beautiful rock and all its entire splendor and she half mindedly held out my hand. Her finger tips barely grazed it when a blinding light and an image of what she thought was person flashed through her entire vision then returning to the normal light of the desert and crowd of people. She recoiled her hand quickly form the shock. Dad and a few other people stared at her for an answer to for my display.

"The rock, dry mud, it's sharp, I pricked my finger." She lied. She must be light headed that would explain the light.

"Have you found out what it is?" Evelyn met up with her father in his tent. She went to her tent first and washed her hands and drank some water, trying to get the sight out of her mind. The green rock lay on a makeshift bed of pillows and quilts, so it couldn't be damaged. She let her fingers hover over the rock but not touching it, too afraid of something happening again.

It was late now and the warm air started to cool fast. The sparse suns rays flittered though the tents fabric but did not give enough light so little lanterns and wax candles provided where the sun could not. In this dim light the green rock's sparkle was more eerie which was nurturing Evie discomfort to the rock.

"No I haven't, but it is hard, I tell you, hardest thing I have ever felt," her father replied shaking his head.

"It isn't a diamond? Is it?" I asked still fixed on it. Of course it wasn't, it was as tall as her forearm, no diamond is that big. She hated it when she spoke before thinking.

"See that's the thing…" he said as he began to walk around his desk waving his chubby finger at the rock, "I've checked every where, my books, my notes, called your uncle, I even called my old professor down at Oxford, said I was mad to have found something like this, harder than diamond he laughed. You know I worked with my share of diamonds," he smiled and patted his blotted belly, feeling all proud of himself, "and I tell you, I have never felt any thing like it." He began to stride back to his desk and sit down.

"So… it's not one of King Mundar's five diamond eggs?" he shook his head in response. She admitted she was little disappointed they had not found what he'd been searching for so long but still was excited and intrigued by the new mystery.

"Bring the egg here, will you dear." He asked as he began to write in his red notebook. She hesitated and looked at him but he was already focused on his work. She really did not want to be shocked again. She thought of grabbing it quickly and tossing it to her father but didn't because it would break. She closed her eyes and swiftly grazed one finger across it. Nothing. She placed her whole hand on it. Still nothing. Deeming it safe she carefully took the rock and brought to her father.

I must have been dreaming, she thought, an illusion of dehydration that all it was.

"See here," he pointed to small lines on the rock, "they look like little veins, yes? And this material, it's smooth and velvet like." He stopped and looked up at the roof of his tent, pondering.

"It feels like… like skin, human skin but stretched across too much bone, you understand?"

She gave him a questioning glance. "No."

"Blasted child," he cried out waving his hands out in frustration. "The only other thing I could compare it to is the wing skin of a bat, but that's only how it looks!"

It was true, the rock did have a thin membrane look of a bats wing and the little vein like things only made it appear so more. She bent down to face it, What are you? She mused to herself.

After a long discussion with her father; mostly about this new, mysterious green rock, she headed to her tent for some much needed sleep. It was cold outside, possibly the coldest night so far on their expedition.

She wrapped herself up in long underwear, sweatpants, big socks, her old ratty, plain, grey tank top, and her blue hoody. Slipping under the covers of her cot and putting on her glasses and picking up the book that lay beside her cot she decided I would read till she fell asleep, like she always does.

The last thing of earth that she can clearly remember from that night was looking up to the bright full moon sitting in the clear sky. She tilted her head to the right to see the little lopsided rabbit on the face of the moon. Good night Mr. Hare. She kissed the air in his direction.

Searing pain ripped through her chest. That is what she felt first. Sitting up gasping for air, she had to grope around for the lamp. Can't breathe… "Help" she hardly managed, so quietly no one would have heard.

She fell out of her cot and onto the hard ground. Her chest began to tighten more and more, and started to lose feeling, cold, ice-like tingles starting in her toes crept up her limbs and felt extremely lightheaded. 'Dad', she gasped as I tumbled to the ground but tired to lift herself up with the help of her side table but it fell over from her weight and landed on her, the wood corner jabbing her side.

I'm having a heart, gasp, attack…The edges of her vision became blurry and faded until it sight was gone. "Help" she tired one last time.

A woman with curly brown hair lay sleeping in her bed abruptly sat up in a cold sweat. She faced the darkness and in a shaky voice spoke

"Solembum it's happened. They have come."

Any questions? Because I can answer them :)

Next chapter will be up in an hour or 2.