Furnost was a modest town on the northernmost point of the Tüdosten Lake, and anybody living within a 3 league radius was gathered in the small courtyard. Nearly 2 years passed since the Free Rider defeated King Galbatorix. Since that time Queen Nasuada proved herself to be just and fair, showing a considerable amount of attention to the happiness of her subjects; something King Galbatorix always shunned, either on purpose or through ignorance.

Moira never had a high opinion of King Galbatorix, a trait that came from living so close to Surda. At 17-years-old the blonde haired, brown-eyed teenager spent her entire life living in Furnost doing as her family expected. In such a small town there wasn't much in the way of lords and ladies, but her family definitely held a place of high power within the town. It was a station Moira rebelled in her early years. Instead of wearing proper dresses and silk skirts, she would change into her cotton pants and tunic to play along the lake with the other children, later getting yelled at by her mother for coming home covered in mud.

As she grew older she started gaining a love for books and staying inside. Her mother saw it as a sign of her maturity. One milestone that came with maturity lied in marriage. Moira had been hesitant to go off with a strange man she rarely interacted with, but in the beginning of her sixteenth year, rumors of a Rider on a sapphire dragon spread across Alagaësia. Against all odds the free Rider managed to evade King Galbatorix by joining the Varden. The hope this Rider brought meant more people were willing to join the resistance in order to overthrow King Galbatorix's rule. Her intended proved to be one of those willing to join the resistance.

Moira wanted nothing more than to join as well, but her parents put a swift end to that. Her mother didn't want her teenage daughter joining a war, but her father made the logical argument of how unfit she was to fight. Not once in her life had Moira ever held a sword before, let alone killed a man. Moira sulked for days, but ultimately stayed in Furnost to wait out the war.

When news spread of King Galbatorix's defeat, the celebration in Furnost was one that would be written in history books. It lasted for almost a week, and Moira wished more than anything that she could meet the free Rider and thank him.

The next piece of unbelievable news appeared a few months later through travelers. If rumors proved to be true, then that meant an entourage of humans and elves were ferrying dragon eggs to every city in order to try and find the next Rider. Anyone between the ages of 10 and 25 would have the opportunity to try their luck with the eggs.

Every night at dinner she would babble incessantly about how amazing it would be for the eggs to hatch, and how she hoped Queen Nasuada would be a good ruler. It wasn't until one night at dinner, when she mentioned how excited she was to try out the eggs for herself, that her mother snapped.

"You will do no such thing, young lady!"

Moira was so startled she almost dropped her fork. "What do you mean?"

"You have an obligation to this family," her mother explained in a calmer voice. "When Briston returns from battle you will marry and continue the family line. Becoming a Rider means leaving for lands unknown and forsaking your family duties. I won't have it."

Moira's hand tightened around her silverware, the only outward sign of her anger. "Briston has not returned with the others."

The meaning behind her words was obvious, and this time it was her father who snapped at her. "You will hold your tongue. There has been no word of Briston's passing, and until then it is safe to assume he is in perfect health. He's a young man, and no doubt was curious to see the land while he had the opportunity."

34 isn't exactly young, she thought bitterly. "I am of the perfect age to try for an egg. Would that not bring a higher status of honor?"

"Rider's bring nothing but misery," her father remarked. "King Galbatorix murdered hundreds in his quest for power, this new Rider killed hundreds in order to overthrow his Rider kin, and all the Rider's before them killed just as many. Their ledgers are stained red with the blood of innocents. I would much rather you be here in Furnost, safe and secure with a family of your own."

Her teeth clenched so hard she couldn't bring herself to retort. Her mother noticed her anger and offered a pitiful attempt at reassurance. "The eggs have been to 2 cities already, and there has been no word of their hatching. If they haven't hatched now, it is very unlikely one would hatch for you."

Moira offered no response. Instead she threw her napkin onto her still-full plate and strode out of the room. Her mother called after her for her rude manners, but the 16-year-old couldn't care less.

From that night onwards Moira avoided all talk about dragon eggs. Her parents relaxed as the days passed, no doubt thinking she had dropped the topic altogether after seeing their logic. What they didn't realize was that Moira spent all of her free time coming up with different plans to try and get in contact with the eggs. She contemplated sneaking out of the city to find where the eggs would be, but she knew they would eventually make it to Furnost.

When it neared her 17th birthday it became very obvious that Briston must have died during one of the battles between the Varden and the Empire. Nobody would ever know how or when he died since they never received word of his death. Moira was forced to offer his family condolences, even though she really couldn't find it in herself to care.

Her parents were in the process of finding a new suitor when travelers brought news of an egg hatching for a man in Teirm. The eggs had been in transit for at least a year by that point, and the news rekindled her hope. The egg couriers were traveling from city to city, and it would be some time before they managed to reach Furnost. The guards who possessed the dragon eggs were slowly heading for the southern cities, and Furnost was most likely last on their list. Moira knew if she had any hope of escaping another betrothal, she would need to at least try her luck with the eggs. If that didn't work, she had a half-baked plan to just steal a horse in the middle of the night and disappear.

It took another full year for the dragon egg couriers to arrive in Furnost, the population had tripled its normal amount. Everyone, even Moira and her parents, stood along the street and stared at the twenty-four riders trotting into the small town. Half of the guards were human, and there was an audible gasp in the crowd when they realized the other half of the guards were elves.

Moira had never seen a more beautiful being. Their complexions were perfect, eyes slanted in colors ranging from deep cerulean to emerald greens. Their ears tapered into sharp points, and their hair shined with health. Had her parents betrothed her to an elf, she definitely wouldn't have minded.

The couriers had a heavily guarded wagon in the center of their group. They pulled the cart to the centermost courtyard of the town, and started setting up a stage. Moira stayed to watch, but her parents left early, losing interest after an hour of staring.

On one half of the stage they erected 7 small pedestals. On each pedestal they carried small chests from the cart and set them on top. When they opened the chest another gasp went through the thinning crowd. It looked like an iridescent opal. It came in a perfect oval, not a single blemish in sight. There wasn't a doubt in Moira's mind that each chest contained one of the dragon eggs.

Each egg varied in color and size. The first 7 were small enough to fit on pedestals, but the remaining eighteen eggs were too large. The guards arranged them from smallest to largest. Moira's eyes widened when she caught sight of the largest egg. It must have reached her height in length, and half that in width.

Nothing more happened on that first day, but sunrise the next morning found everyone in the town gathered in that courtyard. Moira snuck out of her house so she could join everyone; though, she was sure her parents would notice her absence within a few hours.

An elf stood in the center of the platform, silver hair flowing in the breeze, and piercing green eyes surveyed each and every human standing before him.

"Behind me you see twenty-five dragon eggs waiting for their destined Rider." Moira had to blink at the melodic lilt to the elf's voice. It was the most beautiful voice she'd ever heard. "Those of you here between the ages of ten and twenty-five will have the utmost honor of testing whether or not one of these eggs will hatch for you. Should that happen, you and your dragon will be trained in the new Academy under the tutelage of Eragon Kingslayer and his dragon, Saphira Bjartskular. Your brethren from Teirm has already joined the Academy, and awaits another to join him in this next generation of Dragon Riders."

The knowledge of where they would be taught had been widely unknown until that moment. Realizing the new Rider would work with elves and meet the Kingslayer himself would be beyond imagining. Moira yearned for one of the eggs to pick her – not just so she could become a Rider, but so she could have an adventure. To have the opportunity to travel Alagaësia and find new things, meet new people, and not be tied down by a man she doesn't know just to bear his children. If that meant she would have a dragon companion only made the opportunity sweeter.

The elven guard stepped aside, and a human guard took his place. "These eggs may ot hatch for you today. They may not even hatch tomorrow. We shall stay here in your town for the next month, and for each day you may all lay your hand upon each egg one time. After this month is done, we shall move on to the next city whether the eggs hatch or not."

Two more human guards started rounding up all the people who wanted to try their luck with the eggs. Moira made sure to squeeze herself near the front of the line. She hoped to get her opportunity with the eggs, and if nothing came of it she would race home before her parents noticed her absence.

The guards called up each person one at a time. First was a boy her age that she remembered playing with as a child. He placed his hand on the first egg for thirty seconds, and a grunt from a guard made him move on to the next egg. Once he tried each egg he left the stage, and the next person tried their luck.

Half an hour passed before Moira reached the stairs. A pit of anxiety welled in her chest at the thought of trying her luck in front of the entire town. People would no doubt recognize her, and she made the attempt to put on her rattiest clothes, and planned to angle her face away from the crowd.

All in all, not looking at the crowd was the easiest thing to do. Her attention was completely focused on the first egg. It was the length of her forearm, and the outer shell was a beautiful white. It reminded her of the clouds, but somehow more pure. Thin lines of grey webbed across its surface in a parody of cracks. When she gently pressed her shaking hand against the smooth surface, she traced a finger over one of the lines.

Moira knew that every person got the same amount of time for each egg, but when she was urged to move on it felt like she only got to try her luck for 3 seconds. The second egg, a beautiful forest green with gold lines, also felt like only a couple seconds. Down the line she went until her hand rested on the last egg. She could hardly believe the size of it, trying to imagine the mother who would have birthed an egg so big.

Like the others before her, her turn came to an end. She jogged down the stairs and walked to the very edge of the crowd, hesitant to leave in case anything of importance happened. Unfortunately, her window of opportunity was closing, and she had to jog through the town to return home.

At dinner that night neither of her parents brought up her absence, making Moira slouch in relief. Her time away went unnoticed, and hopefully it would happen again the next day, and the day after, until the end of the month when the couriers left.

Moira made it through a week and a half with no one the wiser. Like all the other days she left her home during the hours that she would normally spend reading. She groaned when she realized most of the town had already gathered, and she had to wait at the end of the line.

Moira kept her head down so nobody would see her face. As usual the line slowly inched forward, each person taking around 15 minutes to take their turn. She counted each person in an attempt to keep track of the passing time. As her turn drew closer, so did her time limit. She thought about leaving the line entirely to return home and try again the next day, but by then she only had one other person in front of her.

Her turn came later than she hoped, but she dutifully got onto the platform to lay her hand on the first egg. By now the experience didn't seem so surreal. This time each egg felt like it took ages to get through, because now her anxiety was in response to being out of the house for so long.

Her focus on the eggs was so absolute that she almost didn't hear the commotion in the crowd behind her. Moira paid it no heed, needing to move on to the fourth egg in order to keep her turn even. This egg was a beautiful, soft pink, that reminded her of the wild roses that grew in the fields along the Tüdosten, or of the sky when the sun just started to pass the horizon. She was shaken from her admiration by an angry, heart-stoppingly familiar voice, shouting her name.

Acting on the instinct of a child in trouble, Moira spun around in search of the angry yell. Almost immediately she spotted her father forcing his way through the throng of people to approach the stage. From the corner of her eye she saw the guards tensing, but they made no move to restrain him.

Moira kept her body angled half towards the egg and half towards her father. The hand she had resting on the egg went tense, giving her something solid to cling to when faced with her father's rage. "I can explain – "

"You will explain on your way to the house!" He walked up to the front edge of the stage so he could look straight up at Moira. "Did you think your mother and I were blind to your outings?" Her silence said it all. "We allowed you your fantasy, believing your head would come out of the clouds when the eggs never hatched for you. Instead, you come out here day after day with a false hope. Did you even think of our arrangement with Arubaen this afternoon?"

Moira grimaced, only then remembering her parents organized a lunch with another betrothal prospect. It was something she needed to attend, and no doubt took place a good hour previous while she waited in line. "Father, I am so–"

"Get down from there!" He cut her off again. "You're to stay in your room until these people leave, do I make myself clear?"

Moira backed up, putting herself even closer to the egg. "At least let me – "

"NOW!"

Not once had her father ever raised his voice at her. The abrupt change in volume made her jump so hard she knocked into the pedestal. All the oxygen in her lungs escaped in a panicked rush as she tightened her hold on the egg, so it wouldn't go crashing to the ground. The same could not be said for the pedestal and egg's chest, as they toppled over with a mighty crash.

Moira quickly snuck her other arm under the egg so she wouldn't lose her hold on it. The entire courtyard, while usually hushed during the ceremony, went dead silent. Moira couldn't tell considering her heartbeat sounded like a drum in her ears.

She slowly turned to look out at the crowd, keeping the egg in a safe cradle against her chest. Everyone looked stunned, but it was her father that she truly dreaded seeing. His entire complexion turned tomato red, and Moira was certain smoke would be coming out of his ears had it been possible. When he started spitting curses and rounding the stage to climb the stairs, she turned to find the nearest guard also heading towards her.

The elven guard held out his hands to snatch the egg from her, and while that egg was her only source of sanity in the whole situation, she stretched out her arms so it could easily be taken from her grip.

The elf reached her before her father. She offered a quiet apology when he reached out to grab the egg. Her movements paused. Moira's gaze shot down to the egg, absolutely certain she had felt something shift. It was only a brief second, and when nothing else happened she was forced to pass it off as her imagination.

The pink egg was quickly collected from her arms, and she spared one last moment to give it a melancholic look, before turning to face her oncoming father. The courtyard was still dead silent, so when a sharp intake of breath came from behind her, she turned to see the problem.

The elf she handed off the egg to still stood there. His green eyes were locked on the egg, and his entire body stood stock still. Moira hesitated to ask what was wrong, and in that time the elf quickly knelt on the ground to gently set the egg on the stage. When he stood back up his eyes locked onto hers. There was a searching look there, but Moira had no time to make it out before a hand grabbed her arm in a near-bruising grip.

"You are an embarrassment," her father muttered. "It will take years before people stop talking about your blunder, and even then they will never, ever forget."

He started pulling her towards the stairs to get off the stage when a heartstopping squeak came from behind him. Everyone's attention moved from Moira and her father, to the small pink egg on the stage floor.

Moira held her breath, not daring to believe what was happening, when her father yanked on her arm. "Let's go."

The elven guard barked a command in a language Moira didn't recognize. Immediately, two elven guards from the bottom of the stage blocked off the stairs, hands on their swords in silent threat to stay where they were.

Her father stopped pulling her, but he didn't let go. "If you would please excuse us," her father said in a firm voice. "My daughter and I need to return home. Her mother is worried for her."

"You are more than welcome to return to your wife, mortal," the left guard said in a dangerous tone. "The girl stays."

Her father drew himself up to his not-inconsiderable height. "She is my daughter, and I will take her where I please."

The right guard placed his foot on the first step of the stage. "The girl stays."

Moira could tell her father did not want to argue with two fully-equipped elven guards, but another squeak from the egg behind them seemed to harden some kind of resolve. "The girl is coming with me. Come on, Moira." This time it was Moira who squeaked, practically getting thrown over her father's shoulder as he approached the edge of the stage with the intent to jump off with her encased in his arms.

Too fast for her father to react in time, a pair of arms wrapped around Moira's waist and yanked her away from her father. The arms felt like iron bars, and the strength behind them was something her father had no chance of fighting against. He cursed up a storm when he realized she'd been forcibly taken from him, and the curses grew louder when the elven guards raced up the steps to apprehend him, and drag him off the stage.

The arms unwrapped from Moira's waist, and she turned to see the green eyed elf who saved her, striding away to stand at the opposite end of the stage. After a few seconds of staring her attention returned to the pink egg, watching in shock as it shivered, then started rocking back and forth. Faster and faster it moved, gaining enough force that it started rolling towards the edge of the stage. Moira quickly knelt down to prevent it from falling, and carefully rolled it back to the center.

Within the same second that her hand moved away from the egg, a large crack cut its way down the center of the shell. From that crack came another, and another, until a few of the cracks formed a jagged. The circular piece wobbled slightly before flying off, followed by more and more broken pieces before the entire shell split apart.

Crawling out of the remains, covered in clear fluids, was a baby dragon.

Nobody in the courtyard dared to breathe; Moira least of all. Her eyes admired the little dragon's scales, the same rose-pink hue as the egg's shell. The little dragon waddled around until its head faced Moira's direction. For a brief moment its head tilted to look behind her, where her father struggled against the guards holding him. The only one making any noise in the whole courtyard.

Even freshly hatched the little dragon struck an elegant pose. The sight of it pulled a huff of laughter from Moira. Her amusement gained the dragon's attention, and it's pink eyes connected with her brown eyes. From there she realized its eyes were a slightly darker pink than its body. Starting from the base of its head to the tip of its tail were spikes in a shade of white that nearly looked grey. The small, serrated claws on each of its four paws were the same white color. As for the fangs that barely poked out over its jaw, they looked like ivory needles.

The reason for the dragon's deformed torso turned out to be its wings. The little dragon fanned them out, the appendages spreading to reach several times longer than the dragon itself. They were ribbed with thin bones, creating sharp talons along the edge.

Using the wings as a source of balance, the little dragon wobbled towards her. Moira held out her hand in case she needed to steady it, barely noticing the tremble of her fingers. When the dragon came close enough it stopped moving. It stretched its neck as far as it could go in order to scent her fingers. The small puffs of breath against her skin made her gently smile.

After getting her scent the dragon almost seemed to lose interest. It backed off slightly in order to take stock of its surroundings, and Moira bit her lip. Keeping her movements slow, she extended her hand so that she could trace her fingers along the side of its neck, giving the dragon enough time to back away if it wanted to.

Instead, the dragon arched into her touch, and the second her fingertips touched the smooth, pink scales, icy pain shot through her arm and spread through her body. She cried out in agony and fell back, muscles locked in place, preventing her from moving. She laid in that position for what felt like hours, before warmth slowly returned to her limbs.

When she felt normal enough to move, she pushed herself into a seated position, cradling her still numb hand against her stomach. Her hand itched wildly, and she looked down to discover a strange white oval in the center of her palm.

An exuberant cheer rose up from the crowd, but Moira couldn't give them her attention. Her mind felt as though a huge wall had been knocked down. Something that once held all of her thoughts in place was gone, and she feared her conscience might drift away. In order to prevent that she forced herself to make walls around her mind. Within a few seconds, something slithered against that wall, something hesitant and curious.

Moira mentally recoiled, another sensation that was entirely alien to her. She didn't get to think long on it, as the tendril returned to her mind, more insistent this time. It no longer held the hesitance from before, just curiosity and a gnawing hunger.

She was so distracted by the situation happening in her mind, that she didn't notice the little dragon move towards her until it rubbed against her leg. The contact made her jerk, expecting the same icy pain from before, but nothing happened. Uncertain, she stroked her hand down the dragon's neck, smiling when there was no pain, and the dragon released a low purr.

A hand appeared at the edge of her vision, and she looked up to see the green-eyed elf standing beside her. "Come, Shur'tugal," his eyes glinted with suppressed glee, "there is much to discuss."