Ok, so here is my story 'Eragon – Last of a Kind' rewritten. I'm going to be publishing addition chapters based on reviews this time, so if I get three reviews per chapter I'll publish the next one. I already have up to chapter nine written, so chapter two will be out as soon as I get the reviews :) Please Read and Review, and let me know what you think! Thanks guys!

Note: I do not own the Inheritance books or the charecters (unfortunatly), all the credit for that goes to Christopher Paolini. I do own Meralaena and all my other OC's.

Meralaena gasped as the tide of freezing water washed over her head, despite her efforts to remain above water level. A moment later she surfaced, coughing and spluttering and spitting out water as she searched desperately for her companion who should be somewhere near her...There! She saw him, a little to her left downstream – If the raging river she fought against could be called a stream – struggling to keep his head above the water that sought to drown them both. The river was picking up speed now, and vaguely at the back of her mind she dreaded what that might mean. She called his name, but the roar of the angry river caught her voice and whisked it away before he heard her cry. His shoulder length black hair was plastered to his head, his normally handsome features distorted by a fierce snarl as he thrashed against the current, fighting its ever-increasing strength. Meralaena struck forward, trying to lesson the distance that separated them. She called again, and this time he heard her. He turned as best he could as they rushed down the river, the land whizzing past in a blur. He shouted something but the roar of the river drowned his voice. They floundered through the water, trying to reach each other. Just as they did the river rounded a sharp bend, nearly dashing them against sharp protruding rocks, and revealed what she had feared: A waterfall. Not a small, tame waterfall, but a huge cliff of monstrous size, with gallons and gallons of water pouring over it every second. They both knew if they went over neither would survive what waited at the bottom. Meralaena glanced at the shore on both sides - too far. They could never swim that far before the falls swept them over the edge and to their deaths! But before either of them could do anything, she heard a sound above the rushing water that sounded something like - no. A suspicion began to grow in her fear-laden mind. It couldn't be Eragon and Saphira. Not now. They were back in Surda, miles away! And yet the sound she heard was undeniably the sound of a dragon's roar. She tried to turn and look, but before she could she plunged over the edge, her companion's hand in hers. Everything become a terrifying mix of water in her mouth and eyes, a brilliant white light from somewhere above her, her own scream echoing in her ears and her friend's fearful face. They fell for a few long, heart-stopping seconds. Then a shuddering impact shook her body and rattled her limbs and she knew no more.
Hundreds of miles away, Meralaena jolted out of her sleep with a strangled yell.

Melaena sat gasping on her bedroll, gulping air into her strained lungs as she tried to calm her racing heart. She took a deep breath and held it, then another, and let it out only to discover it hadn't helped. When minutes past and she was still breathing heavily, she got up and walked over to the ashes of the old campfire. She glanced at the forest around her, then quietly muttered,

"Brisingr". The fire sprang to life, crackling merrily. The drop of her energy from the brief spell was imperceptible. She sighed and sat down, warming her hands against the cheery flames as she pondered this latest dream.
It wasn't the only dream she had had recently; not by a long shot. She sighed again and wondered what her dreams might mean, if they meant anything. She shifted uneasily, the noise of the river Ramr rushing in the distance, unsettling her. She thought of the dark haired man she had seen in her dreams. Who was he? Why was she dreaming about a man she had never seen or met? What could it mean? Was it even important? As the last question crossed her mind she laughed out loud. She well knew her dreams were often, if not always, more than just her mind wandering at night. Heeding her dreams had helped guide her before.
She shook herself out of her trance and felt her hair splatter on her face with a wet squelch. Surprised, she got to her feet, walked a few paces from the fire and said, "Nimuue elste thruartha". A mirror appeared in the air, surprising her further with what she saw.

She was wet.

Not damp, but soaking wet, and now that she was aware of it, she could feel it too.
"What? But I haven't been near water in the last..." Her voice trailed off and she gasped as a bizarre but likely possibility presented itself to her.
Twice before, after having one of her foredreams, Meralaena had woken to find that she had brought a piece of the dream back with her to the waking world.
Once it had been a dream of being hunted in a forest of ferns and pine; she had woken with her head lying on a small branch of pine where there had certainly not been one before.
The other was a dream of a dragon; a sapphire dragon, sparkling like pure, blue flame flying across a moonlit sky with a rider on her back. Meralaena had awoken with three shining blue dragon scales clutched in her hand. Four days after that, Eragon and Saphira had shown up on the Varden's front door step. Meralaena had been away when they arrived, but she had found out the unlikely timing from her sister after.
And now here she was, soaking wet after dreaming about drowning. It was the only explanation, which in itself explained a lot.
"So," Meralaena said to herself. The dream couldn't be meant for her alone - they warned her about things that would effect more people that her individually. In the past they had warned her about things that would concern the whole of the Varden or the whole empire, such as that a new Rider would rise, as her second dream had said. But what did drowning have to do with anything important? And what about her other dreams of the past four nights? They had been nothing about drowning. But they had all shared two things in common; her, and the mysterious dark haired man. In every dream she felt like they were friends – maybe more. She always felt an overwhelming sense of trust for him, and she knew by the look in his eyes that he trusted her too. But Meralaena was too sensible to think that if she ever met this man in the real world she would trust him - not at first, anyway. If he was even real.
She ended the spell that held the mirror in existence and watched it fade away. She grabbed an extra blanket from her pack and curled up again on her bedroll; it was too much work to change her wet clothes (which had dried considerably) just then. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
When morning came, it found her already busy, preparing for the day. Her stomach knotted with nervousness; what she would be attempting in the next few hours would be far more dangerous than falling into an angry river, even one with a waterfall at the end. Meralaena went over Nasuada's instructions again, making sure she had everything planned perfectly.
"Patience," Nasuada had said. "Patience will get you inside Uru'baen more efficiently than any fancy spells or strategies, though you may need both before all is said and done. You know your task well enough..." Here she had paused, then fiercely whispered, "You mustget the dragon egg! Nothing is more important than this. Your success or failure may determine the fate of the Varden. It would, if not for Eragon and Saphira. And remember", Nasuada's eyebrows met in a threatening frown, "If you happen across Murtagh and Thorn, do not let them deter you if you can help it."

Meralaena had known exactly what she meant by that; Murtagh and Thorn had killed her sister, and Meralaena's one and only best friend, at the Battle of the Burning Plains. Meralaena wasn't there at the time, but the pain it caused her still had not faded, and she knew it wouldn't for a long, long time. The memory of feeling her sister and the second last member of their species die across the miles that separated them was haunting. Nasuada knew this and she simply didn't want emotions interfering with Meralaena's mission in any possible way.
Meralaena finished packing and slid a skirt over her pants as to avoid drawing attention. Squaring her shoulders, Meralaena took a deep breath and set out toward Uru'baen, stronghold of the most dangerous man in all of Alagaesia.

Me: So what'd you think? Does it suck? Is it ok? Should I publish chapter two? Thanks for reading and please review :D

Meralaena: Yeah guys, if you've read this far then you must find it as least partially interesting. And your feedback means a lot to Rose

Me: Yes it does.

Meralaena: So Rose, you gonna tell me who that guy I'm dreaming about is?

Me: *evil laugh* not in a million years

Meralaena: *death glare*

Me: You'll find out soon enough! Besides, it's really not that hard to guess.

Meralaena: It isn't?

Me: Well, for anyone who's read the books. Which you haven't.

Meralaena: Exactly. Which is why you should tell me now so I know whether to kiss him or kill him when we meet.

Me: *gulp* Mera!

Meralaena: Don't call me Mera.

Me: I created you, I can call you whatever I want.

Meralaena: Oh please, kill me now...

Me: Anyway, thanks for reading and please review!