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Book IV: Sundavar -An Inheritance fanfic


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#1 Neutron4ever

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Posted 30 April 2009 - 08:08 PM

Note: Okay...please don't hate me for putting this up as I know most of you aren't a big fan of the Inheritance Cycle.
I'm just putting this here to see what you think about it and to tell me where I can improve. Also take note that this is one of my first fanfics so not to harsh on the critisism :p
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Chapter 1: Possession

It was dawn when the alarms sounded, signalling the villagers of Kilme to prepare for battle.
All throughout the village, the sounds of stomping boots echoed through every house as the villagers rushed to arm themselves.

Kalthar frantically wore his rusted chain-mail and strapped his long claymore to his hip.
We’re being attacked! He screamed in his head.

Never before has their village been attacked, be it by Urgal or Human.

Kilme was located in the outer edges of the Spine, and was separated from Kuasta by a vast mountain range. As the town was located between the sea and the Spine, it was well hidden and had escaped the prying eyes of Galbatorix and the Empire.

Though well hidden, if the village was found, it would be vulnerable to attacks, since there was no other way to leave than to go across the Sea, of which few dared to enter.

At seventeen Years of age, Kalthar belonged to a family whose blood ran deep with magic, perhaps even deeper than the Elves. His father, Drael, was a well known and accomplished sorcerer in the town and usually commanded the villagers during a time of need. Kalthar, like has father, had long black locks which hung over his eyes and again like his father, was an also accomplished sorcerer with fair knowledge of the Ancient Language.

Kalthar’s mother had died but a few years ago after she was ambushed by wild wolves in the Spine. Kalthar remembered that day as if it was yesterday and remembered his father’s grieving face. Since then, they never spoke of his mother again.

Dashing to the door, Kalthar saw the villagers run towards the town’s wooden walls, each of them dressed in rusty armor and wielding any sort of weapon that they kept in their homes.

Only few, he observed, carried a sword.

Together Kalthar and the villagers marched towards the gate where Kalthar’s father was giving instructions.

Climbing the wooden ladder and positioning himself onto the wall, Kalthar’s eyes widened in horror at the sight before him.

A vast army that stretched across the rocky ground of The Spine was swiftly marching towards them, ten thousand strong, at the least. At their head, was a large red dragon with a Rider on its back, seated at its lower neck spike.

Rushing back down the ladder to his father, he heard him giving orders to ready the defences.

Pushing his way past the villagers he said, “Father! They’ve got a dragon!”

He heard a chorus of murmurs from the villagers after he said this.
On hearing this new piece of information, Drael’s eyes widened.

“Are you sure?” he asked

“Go see for yourself!” Kalthar replied frantically. “What should we do?”

After a long sigh his father replied, “The only thing we can do. We must fight.”

After several minutes, Kalthar and his father got everyone onto the walls ready to defend the town, though in their hearts they knew that it was folly. With a dragon at the head of the army, there was no longer any chance of victory and each villager seemed resigned to their doom.

As the sun began to go down, the vast army stopped just beyond bow range.

Then a voice emanated from the Dragon and Rider, unnaturally loud.
The voice spoke so that everyone in the village would hear.

“My master, and your king, bids thee welcome.” The voice started. “Also, he commands that you hand over Drael Rodricsson and Kalthar Draelsson. My master has great plans for them. If you do what we say, then you will be captured and used as slaves for the Empire. If not, then we will kill you.”

After a long silence, the voice spoke again. “What say you?”

After another long silence the voice spoke once more. “I am Murtagh, dragon rider. And this is my dragon, Thorn. If you do not obey our commands, than we will slay all of you!”

After a brief pause, he said once again, “WHAT SAY YOU?”

Still, the villagers remained silent.

The dragon reared forward.
“Then Die!”

The rider unsheathed his sword and raised it high above his head. The blade was an iridescent red with a red jewel embedded on its pommel. Motioning to the army below, the dragon lurched forward and the rest of the army followed.

The dragon, like the sword was red like blood, and its scales shone fiercely despite the lack of light. The villagers seemed to tremble at the sight of it.

“Stand your ground!” commanded Drael.

For nearly two minutes, the villagers watched as the red dragon flew towards them, with the army close behind.

With a mighty roar, the dragon collided with the men on the walls not far from where Kalthar was standing.

At once, all of the archers aimed their bow at the dragon.

“Release your arrows!”

In unison, a flurry of arrows flew towards the red dragon and its rider, only to be stopped several inches from the dragon by some unseen force.

“Blast it!” growled Kalthar. He knew that the Rider must have erected a vast amount of wards around the dragon and himself to protect him from such attacks.

While the villagers were distracted by the dragon, the rest of the army had arrived at the walls and brought out metal ballistae, which fired large metal arrows seven feet long at the villagers. The arrows however, were not meant to kill the villagers, for at each of the metal javelins’ tails, was attached a thick rope and the javelins’ heads were not sharp but instead, were replaced with a grappling hook.

Once the hooks had attached themselves to the wooden parapets, the soldiers pulled up long wooden ladders which stood against the walls.

It was a clever strategy, Kalthar remarked.

Very soon, the soldiers started climbing the ladders, though some of the villagers seemed to not notice.

Yelling at the top of his lungs he said, “The ladders! They’re climbing the ladders!”
Immediately, the archers turned and quickly switched targets from the dragon to the men climbing the ladders.

Pointing at the ladder in front of him, Kalthar barked, “Jierda!” and the ladder soon collapsed, killing all of the soldiers on it.

The spell, though useful, had taken a toll on Kalthar, as is one of the most important laws of magic, for anything you do using magic, will take from you the energy it would have cost to do the task without magic.

Since Kalthar’s blood ran thick with magic, the spell took less of a toll on him than it would with other magicians, for he only felt dizziness which quickly disappeared afterwards.

His victory however, was short lived, as there were dozens of other ladders and the soldiers had already reached the top.

Several archers pulled out their weapons and prepared for melee combat. Many of them used regular household items such as knives and pitch forks.

Kalthar then heard a deafening roar behind him and whirled around to find the dragon speeding towards him.

They must have noticed when I used magic! He said, angry at himself for being so careless.

As he was about to prepare to work magic once more, the dragon halted several feet in front of him and the rider spoke once more, though this time his voice was not as loud.

“My master has ordered me to bring you and your father to Urubaen.”

“Why?” asked Kalthar, trembling at the sight of the red dragon, whose lips were curled in a snarl.

“He sees great things in your future. You will be a useful asset for the Empire. Will you join us or not?”

“I will never join that false tongued traitor!” Kalthar replied angrily. “He has never done anything for us and even now, he sends an army to wipe out our village! How could you even assume that we will join you? I’d rather die!”

The rider flinched at the insult and, in a threatening voice said, “If you seek death, then I will gladly give it to you.” Raising his right arm the rider yelled, “Thrysta!” and a bolt of red energy came flying towards Kalthar.

Kalthar closed his eyes and prepared for the attack to hit him, but it did not come.
Instead, he saw his father there kneeling, after being struck by the blow.

“NO!” he screamed and ran up to his father, with tears streaming from his eyes.

His father was now on the floor and was breathing heavily.

“Kalthar.” He said. “Do not mourn for me. I go now to visit your mother. Maybe you will come as well, but my hope is that you do not, for it is not your time.” He coughed weakly. “Farewell, my time here is at an end.” And with that, he passed into the void.

Terror stricken he yelled at the top of his lungs, then glared at the rider, hate flashing in his eyes.
“You’ll pay for that!”

Summoning all of his power, he chanted in the Ancient Language, preparing to summon spirits. As always when he summoned spirits, golden warmth enveloped him and he smiled, but the smile quickly turned into a scream as the spirits turned against him, entering his body. He felt a vast mind enter his, trying to control his thoughts. He fought frantically against it but the powers of the spirits were far too great and slowly they started controlling his actions.

Kalthar then saw his life flash before his eyes. All of the moments he spent with his family, his first time hunting, his mother’s death, the lessons he had with his father, all his friends at the village, the battle that was occurring, and finally, his father’s death.

I cannot let it end like this! He yelled

With all his might he fought against the spirits and slowly, he began to reverse what they did to him. Instead of them taking control of his mind, he took control of theirs. The spirits flared angrily and fought back, but Kalthar would not give up.

Then Kalthar let lose a scream unlike any other scream and with a flash, he disappeared.
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