Prologue

A.N: This is a new idea i just had, and started planning it out. It's a Fem!Eragon, and might contain explicit incest content in the later chapter - you're warned. Rated T for now.

Disclaimer : Everything belongs C. Paolini, except the plot twists.

The Hall of Traders was one of the rare places in Ceunon burstling with activity throughout the nights. Men came and went, at any ungodly hours, carrying merchandise. Delivering, stocking, exchanging...footsteps and lively chatter was always heard.

A light breeze whispered through the opened door and with it a shadow slipped in, hiding behind one of the beautifully carved wooden pillars, unseen. One would wonder what the guards were doing : they were either standing at the entrance or patrolling.

Yet, no one saw anything.

The shadow moved within the dark patches left due to the hall being lit solely by torchlight ; the moon did not even grace the sky with it's silvery beauty.

Once again, no one heard anything. The guards remained oblivious. However, if someone with keen eyes and an observant attitude decided to take a closer look, that person might notice the empty looks within their eyes ; a milky film in the depth of their irises. The traders present and their assistants were, ofcourse, too busy with their own tasks to notice that something was amiss. The shadow glanced at the left, then at the right before proceeding to the opposite side of the entrance. He found a handle, twisted it open and uncovered a dimly lit corridor.

Everything was going according to his plan ; he spent a week observing guard shifts and patrolling hours within the building. No one should be in this particular aisle now else than his victim ; he also spent time observing it's habits. It was an irritating one ; never leaving the building unless heavily accompanied. Quite paranoid aswell, hiring magicians and the likes. Seems like his victim knew many people were after it's skin. The shadow had to make sure that the magicians's food and drink was laced with sleep potion; a feat he achieved by mentally manipulating the cook and the servant girl.

As he stepped out, the milky film was lifted from the guards's eyes. It was as if nothing happened.

The shadow was a master of mind magic. He could ward himself, make his foes forget, he could create an illusion. He could hypnotize.

Ofcourse, it came with a toll : mental fatigue. As proficient he might be, he was no magician. His grasp of the ancient language was basic, acquired with self study. However, his knowledge of anatomy and plants rivalled healers.

Especially poisons ; which he made sure he always had several vials with him.

He reached his destination - a large mahogany door. It was locked as expected. However, lockpicking it would be easier than retrieving the keys : His victim did not even trust it's guards with them. Thus, with an odd piece of glass magnifying his left eye, he meticulously inserted two small bobby pins.

Twisting, pushing, listening...With a soft "Click", the door was open.

Lord Elentar was not a pleasant man - not that he ever strived to be one. Corruption, greed, dishonesty were among the things used to describe him : To hold such a position of power, to deal with money and transactions on a daily basis would surely tempt any man.

Said Lord was currently struggling with sleep ; shifting among his fine linen covers and curling up in a fetal position. Autumn came, and in these northern parts of Alagaesia it was no kind season. Shivering and grinding his teeth, he grumpily sat up and reached for the half consumed candle on his bedside.

He cursed his servants aloud for not lighting a fire as he stood, the weight of the years burdening his shoulders.

He heard a soft sound, akin to wind. He tottered towards the window, raising his candle at it's level.

It was closed. A chill suddenly ran through his spine and he snapped his eyes shut.

He knew it. He knew there was someone behind him.

The spark of recognition in his victim's eyes was quickly squashed away by an overwhelming mixture of dread and hopelessness. The man stumbled, catching himself with the bedside table as he took a full view of the shadow.

"You're...you're S-S-Shadow!" The man miserably managed to stutter.

Aye, that he was. The Shadow of Ceunon - it was where his career started - acquired a semi legendary reputation throughout Alagaesia. For his stealth, skill with the blade ; for his capabilities with the mind, which was hardly rivalled by anyone else : it allowed him to see through his missions without leaving a single trace.

The hooded figure remained unmoving, showing no signs that he heard his victim. The man tentatively opened a drawer and pulled out a large red box. Shadow watched each of his movements like a cat preying on a mouse, his hand on the hilt of his dagger. With trembling fingers, the man fumbled the box open. Revealing the most beautiful set of jewelry Shadow has ever laid his eyes on : There was a wide diamond choker necklace embedded in white gold. It was an intricate pattern of flowers and leaves, to which was strung a tear shaped sapphire pendant, roughly the lenght of a thumb. There was a pair of matching earrings, each harbouring a tear shaped - albeit smaller - sapphire.

"T-this...this is worth a l-l-lot m-more than w-what y-y-you were p-p-paid .." He pronounced, his eyes wide and shifty. Beads of sweat dripped off his porcine features as his expression morphed into one of despair.

Take this and let me be was the silent query. An eerie chuckle met this statement.

"The proposition is interesting, Lord Elentar. " Shadow cocked his head, his approving tone laced with mockery "However, you seem to forget that i always honour my words". Within a blink of an eye, Shadow's arm struck Elentar with the swiftness of a cobra. The man remained shock-still, his skin greying within seconds before falling, his eyes rolling in the back of his head.

The hooded figure kneeled besides the corpse, retrieving a poisonned needle embed in it's chest. He smiled at the result ; it was the first time he tried this poison, a result of weeks of work. It killed within seconds and shouldn't leave any traces.

The assassin stood, took the jewels after a moment of consideration before disappearing in the darkness of the night.

The next day, Lord Elentar was found dead in front of his open window. He was presumed dead due to a heart failure. Meanwhile, a very satisfied looking man left Ceunon, his pockets tinkling with gold.