Adurna (Eragon Love Story)

Swishing trees glided lightly back and forth across the tiny pub at the corner of a small village. The constant breeze was a common fate here, so the village people paid no mind to the buffeting wind pulling at their clothing endlessly. Parting clouds revealed the almost always hidden sun to the town, happily reaching out to soften the harsh fog that encircled them continuously. The town was nestled just a mile off of the Leona Lake’s shore, the next town over from the major village of Belatona. It is called Rakr (known as City of the Mist in the Ancient Language that only the elves and some others know how to speak which had been discovered shortly after the town was founded) that had always been a small place for the shy, no-nonsense people who call it home.


Unfortunately, I am among this anonymous town. But I for one search this pathetic land for adventure and speak about the mystical stories as if I lived through them while others draw back from such things. Most have been raised that way by caring stay at home mothers and hardworking fathers who man the trifling boats in the vast lake, so I do not blame them for their uncertainty. I was born in Kuasta and had moved around constantly when I was young with my mother and father, so I loathe the life the people here call home. But I was forced to settle here when I was ten and my parents had died an untimely death and found my way to my grandmother in Belatona. Gran immediately took me in with open arms and together we had made our final move to our home here in Rakr. She promised me that would be our last trek for new land, and so far she has kept it. The constant travel had made me weary to leave the house for years, but nowadays I feel as though the town’s barriers are confining me to one specific place.



The loud banging from downstairs had me rocketing out of my bed. I had been laying in it for hours once sleep had left me. Now the fresh scent of Gran’s homemade fish omelets and freshly baked bread had me hurrying to put my usual uniform on. Gran and I had been working and living in this pub since we had first acquired it seven six years ago, it still stays to be the best place to eat in the town. I hurriedly pulled on my tight, black leather pants under my long dark blue skirt, pulled my loose corset tighter to my chest and laced up my work boots that have lasted far longer than I had anticipated before racing down the stairs.



Sounds of plates clattering, sizzling stoves, and buoyant murmurs filled my ears once I entered the already busy dining area. I was later than I had thought. Our tavern is one of two popular eating and drinking places here in Rakr. I did mention how small we were right? Everyone knew everyone and it didn’t take long before news spread to just about everything here. It drove me made. You couldn’t walk out of your house in slacks without hearing about it an hour later. That’s why I wore them under the flowing dress so I could remove it once I escaped to the woods. I went there almost every day once work was done and no more chores stood in the way of the freedom I felt there.



“Chrystal!” An out of breath call from the direction of the kitchen pulled me out of my rant. I turned to see Gran flipping eggs like crazy while piling them onto an overflowing plate. Without another word I raced over and took as many dishes as I dared and headed out into the war zone.



Once I had all the full plates distributed among the townsfolk, it wasn’t a matter of time before I was picking up the empty ones and hauling them back to the kitchen. Soon Gran had them full of food again and she’d have me running around yet again. The smell of fish and eggs had my stomach churning before the end of the breakfast rush. I swore I would never touch the things again, but knew no matter how much I despised the nasty things I would still have to sell them almost every day. Oh, how I loathed the fishermen who brought the disgusting creatures back from the lake. I cursed the man who discovered the retched things to a fiery death.



I knew better than to plot my revenge, so for the remaining hour I threw myself into moving everyone along as fast as I could manage without literally throwing them out the door. As Gran ushered the last folks out with a warm smile, I collapsed into one of the wooden chairs with a big buff of air escaping my lungs for a massive sigh. My legs we noodles beneath me and my arms were about ready to fall from their sockets. All I wanted to do was curl up and sleep till dinner.



As if reading my thoughts, Gran threw a damp towel at me with a teasing eye roll. “If you think you’re done, young lady, you’ve got another thing comin’.”



I groaned loudly, but did not voice my displeasure. My grandmother worked harder than I did to keep this place standing and I’ve never hear her complain. Sure she muttered to herself about the dirty floors or the income, but never stopped for a break. Sometimes I find myself wondering if she enjoyed the labor of owning such a place here. I already knew the answer, however. Of course she did.



“I’ve wanted a restaurant since I was small girl in country.” She had told me one day when I asked the always prodding question. “This a dream, Chrystal, a dream.” After that conversation, I never questioned her love for this place again. She did buy this place as soon as we came here without a husband or money to pay for food that day.



We cleaned in silence as I scrubbed the messy grim left over from the morning visitors off the wooden tables and Gran washed the huge mound of dirty dishes besides the wash tub. I had finished before she was half way done. A smile spread across my lips at the thought of leaving this place until lunch time. Quickly, I turned for the door. Hearing an absentminded splash of water dropping to the floor, I hastily remembered Gran and this disgusting dump. In my opinion, it wasn’t that dirty, but it wasn’t that clean either. Guiltily, I grabbed the broom from the closet and started to sweep slowly across the floor. Dust, dried mud, and dropped food were swept into a large pile in the middle of the floor that could have made me gag. Finding a still dirty plate, I swept as much of the soiled remains as I could hold onto the dish and made hast for the back door. Opening it with one hand was a challenge, but soon the filth was safely thrown out to the small, dusty back lot of the pub.



Making my way back to the door, I saw Gran with the broom I had just taken out in her own hands. She was looking down at my pile of dirt with mystified eyes. When she heard me approach, her head snapped up and she gave me a once over before zeroing in on the dirt streaked plate I held in one hand. A smile spread across her face, causing her wrinkles to deepen and her brown eyes twinkled in delight. I always wondered where I got my shocking green eyes from. Perhaps it was from my parents. I cannot remember, for memories fade until it is painful to grasp the tiniest detail. It hurt too much to think about my mother and father and what things could have turned out like if they hadn’t died that night. Would we still be travelling? Would we settle down in a place like this or the hustle and bustle of the city that they loved so much? I wish I knew the answers to those questions.



“You work hard enough,” She said in her strange accent that I can’t quit place. “Time for break. Hurry, before I change my mind.”



I smiled widely and rushed out of the door without a glance back. The village was alive with men making their way to the dock and children running in the never busy streets. Women hurried along the market streets with baskets full of items their families will consume as quickly as they were pacing in front of a makeshift stand. Lone cats and dogs prowl the streets searching for discarded scraps while seagulls scavenge above. Some folks stopped to stare at the curly blond haired girl with mismatching clothes run through the streets as fast as her legs could carry her, but others who were immune to my sudden dashes didn’t bother to glance up from their task. The exit that almost always open gates that anyone could hop over (which I have done on several occasions) appeared beneath the dense mist that tumbled off the lake’s shore. I slowed to a leisure pace as the newly appointed guards watched me with vigilant eyes. Feeling self-conscious, I lowered my gaze and stared intently down at my boots.



“Is that…Chrystal?” A friendly, laid back voice came from the direction of the two watchmen. I glanced up in surprise to see the familiar face of Marcus leaning against the gate with an older man, Bran, by the looks of it. Instantly I felt surer of myself. Just to prove it to myself, I straightened out of my low stance, stuck my chin higher in the air, and met the eyes of the men steadily.



“Hello, Marcus.” I said in a confident voice while nodding to Bran further down the gateway. He grumbled something unintelligible before turning his body away from me and Marcus as he made his way closer to me. He smiled warmly down at me once we were an arm’s length apart. His glowing brown eyes held the usual edge of teasing and amusement in them. Marcus and I have been close friends since I arrived in Rakr. Though he doesn’t search for as many adventures as I do, he is nice to have around in the village; almost like an anchor to my always fidgeting mind and body. I couldn’t help the content grin that made itself known on my lips.



“Off to find that dragon egg already?” I looked at him with intense curiosity when he laughed darkly to himself. My hand took hold of his arm to stop his chuckling and pulled him closer to see if he was legitimate.



“What do you mean?” My voice was high like a child when they found out their parents had gotten them a new toy.



He suddenly became serious as his voice dropped to a lower level. “I thought you would be the first to know.” Marcus’s pause was dramatic yet irritated me beyond belief. He knew I hated that, but continues to bug me each day. “News from the Varden has just come in early this morning that Eragon and a small team of elves captured the last dragon egg from Galatorix’s empire a few days ago. They say only three elves out of the ten that travelled with Eragon and his dragon returned. Can you believe it? There will be another free rider!”



My eyes could have nearly popped out of their sockets. Another free rider? That could mean that the legendary Dragon Rider Eragon and his dragon Saphira could have an ally to overtake Galatorix’s empire just as strong as them. This could mean the future freedom of this land and people forever if they are able to defeat him in battle. Excitement and new found hope surged through me. I threw my arms around Marcus’s shoulders in a massive hug.



“This is amazing!” I nearly screeched in his ear as I bounced inside his arms animatedly. Marcus laughed loudly from above me as I jumped into the air with sheer bubbliness. “A free dragon rider.” I muttered in awe to myself as I came to a halt before him yet again.



“How will they find them?” I asked in fear. What if the egg doesn’t hatch to the intended person? What if it doesn’t hatch at all? Panic gripped me at the thought of not living to see Galatorix rule fall beneath strong dragon riders. Or not having the empire fall at all.



“Word is that Eragon will be going around from city to city with the egg. There are multiple people posing as though they are the ones with the egg to keep it safe. I’m not sure how he plans on finding the next rider, but there isn’t a better way than that. In my opinion, the way he found his was a stupid way to lose an egg on the elf’s part.”



“She had no choice!” I defended the stranger I’ve only heard of in stories furiously. Remembering more important matters, I pushed the annoyance easily out of my mind for the time being. “Do you think he’ll come here?”



Wonder chilled me at the thought of seeing a dragon or dragon egg up close. Just the thought of being in the same town as one sent tingles down my spine without my control. My stomach did annoying little flips as my excitement refused to fade. What if I knew the next rider personally? I fantasized about stories I may be in or tell from my perception.



“I doubt it.” Marcus’s words sent my daydream to its death. “We are a tiny village in the middle of nowhere. There is no dragon rider here, trust me.”



“You never know.” I whispered despite the logic he so openly discussed. Who was I kidding? What were the chances that a mythical rider lived within these walls? I’d say slim to none. I didn’t let Marcus’s remark to ruin my buoyant news. The wild smile stayed planted on my lips through the entire conversation. I didn’t try to compose myself. Finally, there was something to be enthusiastic and optimistic about in the future.

“I get off in a few minutes,” Marcus continued further. “Do you mind waiting for your exploration of the day till I finish this stupid guard duty. I don’t get this job. No one gets paid, it’s a waste of time, and no one is gunna attack our village.”

I rolled my eyes dramatically and said in a terrible act of fake horror, “Then what else would girls like me look at all day long if every man was out on the lake all day?” I bated my eyelashes flirtatiously.

He smiled menacingly while crossing his muscular arms in front of his broad chest. I tried not to notice how his might rolled beneath his slightly dirty white tunic. Instead I focused on his playful brown eyes, but it wasn’t much easier to restrain my thoughts when staring intently on his clear auburn irises. Nowadays I’ve noticed more and more of his personable appearance and the desire to be near him. Of course, Marcus was a very handsome young man, and I have noted the way other girls stare in jealous and giggled their annoying giggles when we stroll down the streets together.

“So what do you say?” His voice yanked me back to the exchange quickly. “Can we do something once I get off?” It was hard to resist such temptation.

“Of course, meet me by…” I trailed off suddenly. My thoughts turned to Gran. Did she even know who was expected to come so soon? I felt the need to inform here. “I have to tell Gran!”

“What? Common I haven’t done anything all day. I’m dying of boredom.” There’s Marcus for you: Mr. Dramatic. He hasn’t been out here as long as I have been working at the pub.

“I’m sorry!” I called as I quickly backed away from him. “Come by later once you’re done. We can do something then.”

I didn’t wait for a reply. Instead I hurried down the streets, easily dodging passing people or carts. Some of the mist had decreased once I reached the center of town. Now all I have to do is get to the other side of town, I thought irritant. The saloon was the furthest house from the gate and everyone else. Standing at two stories high, it wasn’t hard to miss. Smoke billowed out of the tiny chimney; actually it was so tiny that, if the stove wasn’t on, you wouldn’t be able to decipher that it was in fact a chimney. The stone building was old, and it showed its age in the rusty window panes and half broken rock that made up the home. Though it wasn’t a palace, I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.

“Gran!” I exclaimed breathlessly. My eyes darted wildly around the interior for the old women. Guessing she would be in the kitchen, I quickly had my way over to her. My presumption was proven correct when I found her bent over the stove, prepping for the dinner rush as it looked like. “Gran!” I called again, louder this time to catch her attention.

She nearly dropped the spoon once my scream spooked her enough to make her jump as high as she did. It would have been amusing to me, but I pushed the laughter aside.

“You scared the living out of me, child.” She chastised me while placing a hand over her heaving chest. I instantly felt bad for startling her.

“I’m sorry, but I have just found out the most wonderful news!” I had started to bounce in circles around her like I had with Marcus, but my mind was focused on the near future.

“Stand still.” She ordered impatiently, turning back to the stew brewing on the hot fire. “You shake whole house down with jumping. Tell news.”

“The last dragon egg has been found! Eragon and Saphira stole it from Galatorix’s empire with the elves. This means the Varden will have another free rider!” I nearly screamed the last part out.

I looked to Gran to see her reaction; assuming happiness would be on her face. Instead a blank look crossed her features before she glance down at her bubbling broth. Confusion surged through me at her unexpected response.

“Did you hear me, Gran?” I asked worriedly. Was she feeling alright? This must be the greatest news since the story of Eragon came to the public. “I said-”

“I hear your words, Chrystal.” She interrupted my second explanation. “I have no time for fantasy stories the crazies tell. You must not believe them. Have you gone back to the teller? I have told you not.”

“Gran, this is real.” I exclaimed in surprise, not answering the question at hand because, in truth, I have been back to Tammy, the story teller, more than once.

“No,” She scoffed. “It is something for children to fear at night and play in morning. No dragons are here nor your riders. Just people. Do not fret on evil lies. You are smarter than those who listen.”

I stared at her with wide eyes long after she finished talking and turned back to her cooking. Could she be right? Could there really not be a war going on between the races? Was Eragon and Saphira made up tales for children, and I was the last to know? But the news, I thought to myself reassuringly, Eragon would not come here if he was a mythical creature. Or was that another lie? I shook my head. No, it was true.