Chapter 1

*Disclaimer I do not own Eragon I only own Clover and Isline. Please don't copy, because even though I don't update a lot it takes hard work to write this. Thank you so much and enjoy!

The wind was howling as Isline crouched low looking at the track the prey had left behind. She had been chasing this deer for three days and if she came home empty handed her family would have no food again. It was getting dark out but Isline was hoping she would be able to kill the deer before having to go home.

Isline might have passed as beautiful if she was not always dirty from hunting. She had hair that in the sun could be mistaken for fire. It was long and a pretty amber color, almost looking like the sunset. She had piercing blue-green eyes that people said could look into their souls. She was tall and lean from all the work she had to do, and had broad shoulders that were currently slightly hunched forward, trying to blend in with the background, so she could get close to her future kill.

Finally she caught up to the doe she had been hunting. The doe was at the edge of the herd, her foreleg stretched out awkwardly. The woman almost felt bad for the animal and but couldn't afford to think that way, because she needed to bring home food. She slowly crept forward, getting an arrow out of her quiver and knocking it onto her bow. As she pulled the bow taut to shoot an explosion shattered though the quiet night.
The herd had bolted. She had managed to kill the doe before it bolted with the others. It was a good thing too, because with the noise the explosion had made, no animals would be near this area for a long while.
Behind her, when the herd had been, smoldered a large circle of grass and trees. Many of the pines stood bare of their needles. The grass outside the charring was flattened, and a wisp of smoke curled in the air, carrying a burnt smell. In the center of the blast radius laid a polished evergreen stone. Mist smacked across the scorched area and swirled insubstantial tendrils over the stone.
She watched for danger for several long minutes, never moving out of her defensive position, but the only thing that moved was the mist. Cautiously she walked forward to where the stone lay. Moonlight cast enough light now that it was night so that I could see clearly. Nudging the stone with her boot, she quickly jumped back to see if it would move. Nothing had happened so she picked it up and examined it closer.
Nature had never polished a stone as moth as this one. Its flawless surface was a dark evergreen color, except for thin veins of white that spider webbed across it. It looked like the color of grass in spring when life was beginning again. The color almost reminded Isline of new beginnings and hope. The stone was cool and frictionless under my fingers, like hardened silk. It was oval and about a foot long and weighed several pounds, though it felt lighter than it should have.
She was afraid. Although Isline wasn't a scholar by any means, she knew that only magic could have made a stone such as the one in her hand, and only magic could have made the explosion. But she was curious, and so she put the strange stone into her leather bag next to her quiver. She cursed her luck at loosing the doe, but reckoned that it couldn't have gotten far.

She quickly caught up to the doe that had bolted and finally killed it, satisfied that she had managed to catch up to it, and would be able to feed her family. Then she walked around a little looking for a good place to make camp. When she found it she spread her bedroll on the forest floor and ate a measly small dinner that consisted of stale bread and cheese.

Isline was pondering the importance of the stone, and how it happened to appear before her, right before she drifted into a deep slumber.