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Phoenix Fire
Phoenix
Author Alittlebitofcyanide
Genre Fantasy, Action, Adventure
Status Incomplete
Rating PG 13+
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(This story takes place approximately 300 years after the events of Inheritance)

The world is at a breaking point. The once vast and prosperous Empire of High Queen Nasuada has been corrupted into an even worse state than when the dreaded King Galbatorix still ruled with his iron fist.

Riders from the East have stopped appearing. Rumor has it that they are in the midst of a ruinous civil war. Eragon Shadeslayer, the once mighty King-Killer, is rumored to bedead.

When all had seemed lost, hope came in the form of a fiery meteorite crashing down into Sharktooth Island...

Phoenix Fire is an upcoming story written by Alittlebitofcyanide. It takes place around 8313 AC, roughly 300 years after the events of Inheritance.

Chapter IEdit

It was nearing midnight when a hooded traveller appeared in New Carvahall. He walked like a ghost around the town, and many who saw him suspected he was a Shade.

Not a very light term to use. Shades had not been around for almost four hundred years, the last of which was recorded to been summoned by a group of magicians under King Galbatorix, a cruel dictator who was finally overthrown about 300 years ago by the legendary Eragon Shadeslayer, who now resides in the lands beyond the Eastern Seas.

Riders became the law enforcers of the lands of Alagaesia, with one being stationed in every major city of the Empire. Garro, named after Eragon's surrogate father, was stationed in New Carvahall.

Garro's dragon, Iola, was a female dragon lavender scales that glittered in the sunlight. Despite its sedative looks, Iola was vicious in combat, dispatching many foes with her razor sharp talons. Her Rider was not so subtle in his approach. Garro was a drunkard who spend many of his nights staring at empty bottles of spirits while wasting away his immortal lifespan.

Iola knew his troubles and often hunted for many months when Garro was sobering up. Everybody knew Garro went into mad fits of violence, casting spells all over the place and finally vomiting before passing out. Iola would often carry his inebriated body high up in the mountains where he could regain his sanity. When his body was finally free of alcohol, Iola would let him fly her to New Carvahall where his vicious cycle would once again begin.

Many people wondered why Garro, a Dragon Rider, became such a person, and the answer was simple. Garro was not from the Eastern Lands. He won the dragon egg after a game of chance in the black markets and was jailed for many years while his dragon grew up in the wild.

Once they were finally joined, Garro did little to nothing to enforce the laws of the Empire, instead taking advantage of his magical abilities to gather and transmute as much water to alcohol he could. The transmutation spell was invented by Garro, and it was about the only thing he was famous for, aside from his drunken demeanor.

Peter, a descendant of one of the original families of Carvahall, tried to tell Garro of the stranger's mysterious behavior. "Garro, you have to do something!" he shouted at the Rider, who was propped up against a chair staring blankly into an empty glass. Iola was out hunting again, so Peter would have to be the voice of reason, a role he took many times when persuading Garro to take up his responsibilities as a Rider.

"What do you want now, boy?" Garro said to him in a strange voice. Peter took a step back, knowing he was not sober tonight. Garro mumbled a spell under his breath and two bottles of alcohol went flying out of a locked cupboard and onto his old wooden table, smeared with spirits and vomit. "Ah, faelnirv." he said, holding up a glass container that was crafted by a master glassblower. This must be the work of the elves, Peter thought to himself.

Elves had become something of a myth in Alagaesia nowadays. King Aggrevar, who resented elf-kind, built up a large wall that confined the forest of Du Weldenvarden about 100 years ago. His successor removed the guards patrolling the forest but did not tear down the wall, nicknamed the Wall of Sorrow, for the creation of this wall severely crippled the relations of humans to Queen Arya, a wise and young queen of the elves.