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Shadow & FlameEdit

"Glowing embers and clouds of ash errantly danced across the barren valley. The air was thin and hot, scalding your lungs as you sucked in the air. Geysers of steam and magma frequently burst up in a torrent of fire and lava that scorched the valley. As far as the eye could see, the valley was completely devoid of life. With towering mountains to the east, and an impassable barrier of mist to the west, it seemed as if the whole place was destined to be desolate and perpetually immolated by the volcanic anger of the earth.

At the center of the valley lay a small shrine, carved from seamless obsidian. It was ornate and geometric, obviously made by an architect of great skill. Ornate drawings depicting gruesome battles and genocide, it was cleary shrine to some pagan god of death. In the center was a golden brazier shaped in the form of a large dragon with red veins covering its glossy black skin. In the middle of the black pavillion was a small table made of stone, stained with blood with skeletons clad in armour littering the area. On the table lay a large black book with an archaic symbol etched in some form of a molten ink, glowing in the gloomy surroundings. Next to it was a elliptical egg, black in colour with orange veins webbing the entire egg..."

Wren awoke in cold sweat. He had been having nightmares again. He looked around his room, and realized it the night was still young. He wiped sweat off his forehead and sat upright on his bed. He groped for his glasses until he heard a cracking of glass. Blast it, he thought to himself. His vision was blurry, but he managed to get to his feet, staggering along the way. Opening his bathroom door, he found himself being greeted by his ghastly reflection lit up by the moonlight. He was about to be fourteen in a few days, but he quickly brushed away the thought. Those were the least of his worries.

He opened the shutters, and saw what Uru'baen looked at night. It was a truly beautiful city, even more now with the filth of Galbatorix washing away. He could see the paved courtyards, and the rows of torchlit houses on every alley. Ever since it's rebuilding, King Romulus, Galbatorix's successor, The alliance between the Queen Arya and King Romulus was honored, one of the things humans and elves fully agreed upon. Chardonyx, the Elvenn Arya was old and wise, and an extremely capable wizard, being on par with Eragon Shadeslayer when he was in his prime. And to think Queen Arya was a Dragon Rider to boot.

Wren had heard stories about Riders having really long life spans, but he never really wondered if they could theoretically live forever. There were stories of Oromis and Glaedr, one of the first founding members of the Order of Dragon Riders living up to Eragon's day. Wren wondered what life would be like as a Dragon Rider, to feel the wind on your face and the world racing behind you. He delved into deep thought until he was brought back into reality when he heard a thundrous roar in the eastern district of Uru'baen. Molten jets of liquid fire ignited the streets, leaving a blazing path of fire and smoke. It was a dragon, Wren thought to himself.

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