Chapter 1: The Book Arrives
Hello, everyone! This is I Was Raised By Dragons speaking, and I'm pretty darn new to writing fanfics. This is actually my second try at this story. The original story was called From the Book, and I honestly didn't like the way I was writing it, soooooo… yeah. Hopefully, this one will be a whole lot better! So, without further ado, welcome to the new and improved version of From the Book, now called From the Pages of Power!
Disclaimer! I don't own any of the characters from the Inheritance Cycle, obviously. That credit goes to the mastermind- Christopher Paloni! XD
From the Pages of Power
Chapter 1: The Book Arrives
"Want some more?!" The boy, Josh Linkers, roughly shoved me down into the muddy grass. I slid a good five feet on my stomach before stopping in front of a large boulder.
"I'm not done yet," I groaned, pushing myself off the ground; that's gonna leave a few muddy streaks… dangit! This was a new shirt too! I stood and readied my fists in a fighting stance.
"Humph! Well, you've got guts, I'll give you that!" Josh advanced on me, cracking his knuckles.
"But gutsiness alone isn't going to get you far on my turf!"
"Just shut up and come at me, Linker!" I shouted angrily.
"As you wish… little girl."
"Alesah, what happened?!" My mother cried out, shocked at the sight of me: Black eye, bruised face and arms, scratches on my knuckles and face, split lower lip.
"Nothing, Mom, I just…" I trailed off, trying to find a good excuse for my current condition.
"I just fell down some stairs," I lied. "It's nothing to worry about- I'll be fine."
"That's the fifth time this week, Alesah," My mom said in an a-matter-of-fact tone.
"Its fine, Mom," I said softly, brushing her hand away from a particularly painful bruise.
"Well, if you're sure…" She said, looking concerned.
"I'll be in my room if you need me," I muttered, hiding my face behind my whiteish-blonde hair bangs.
"Dinner will be ready in a couple hours, honey," Mom said, looking at me with a worried expression.
My name is Alesah Wyrm. I'm a typical, average, everyday seventeen-year-old girl with abnormal hair color, the extremely rare ice blue eye color, and a pretty semi-normal background.
As you can probably deduce from what happened earlier, I'm probably a prime target for the Jocks at my school, Jackson Town High, to beat up.
Even though I'm a girl they don't care about my gender so long as they get their 'entertainment' from my black and blues.
I'm adopted, came to this family when I was nine. Don't know who my real parents are; they could be dead for all I know.
I'm an only child, but I don't really have a problem with that to be honest. I'm actually relieved about that; I was born with pointy-tipped ears, almost like an elf.
I love reading, art, and writing; the entire attic is cleaned out for my treasure trove of books and a personal art/writing studio.
Anyway, I went upstairs, rubbing the black eye Josh and his flunkies so graciously bestowed upon me.
I made it to my room and crossed over to the bed, flopping down with a moan onto the soft blanket.
My right cheek hit a hard surface and I let out a yelp as it connected with a large bruise.
What the-? I scrambled into a cross-legged position, rubbing my painful bruise crossly.
There was a package wrapped in gold foil on my bed pillow; I hadn't seen it at first.
There was a note attached to the midnight-black ribbon. I opened the paper and read it.
This is a very powerful story. Use it only when you're in real pain. You're not just a girl with almost white hair and ice-blue eyes; you're a special person with an anomaly, a very special power, a Scribe. Use this power with great caution- you're being looked for even as you read this note. Be careful, and don't trust anyone. Keep the book with you at all times. Keep it safe.
I sat there for who-knows-how-long, staring at the note.
Then I crumpled it up and threw it into the wastebasket.
"Yeah, right," I muttered. "I'm not special. I'm a loser who never knew her real parents and has freaky good reading skills, a literate memory, and a bad art style. And what the hell's a Scribe?"
I looked at the gold-wrapped present thoughtfully. Without thinking, I lunged for it and ripped it open, revealing the one story I'd wanted since I was ten, the book I've always wanted to add to my collection of dragons and dragon riders…
Brisingr, by Christopher Paloni.
The third book in the greatest series that represents the majestic powers of literate art.
I gasped and picked up the hardback black book- it didn't have a cover image, only the binding and the under-cover, remembering the first two books that came before this one.
The first book in the series, Eragon, was given to me from one of the families I was being fostered in when I was seven. The second, Eldest, was given to me when I was adopted into this family.
I turned it over in my hands, marveling at the worn-down spine and faded golden letters that gave the book its enchanting name.
I flipped the pages, deeply inhaling the scent of old book and stories of the dragons and dragon riders. Soon I was on my stomach, hanging over the foot of my bed reading it with a voracious reading appetite.
After probably two hours I was already halfway through. My WPM reading rate, we found out from a special testing session when I was in fifth grade, was 9,000 WPM.
I know it seems impossible, but I've always been a monster when it comes to books; it was like I was born for reading.
"Alesah! Time for dinner!" my mom shouted from downstairs.
"Just a sec!" I rummaged through my huge array of stuffed dragons, found my favorite one (she's sapphire blue, so I'd named her Saphira after Eragon's dragon) and pulled out a bookmark from between her deep-blue wings.
I slapped the bookmark into my place in the book and went downstairs, smelling the wonderful aroma of Mom's extra-spicy spaghetti and meat sauce.
Just then my Dad walked in, shouting "I'm home!"
I ran to hug him, like I used to do when I was first adopted here, nearly bowling him over in a bear-hug.
"Hey Daddy!" I said happily.
When Dad comes home, it's like all my problems melt away; my black and blues didn't even hurt that badly anymore. "Hang on, Alesah," Dad frowned and held me out at arm's length.
"What happened this time?" He demanded, looking my face over.
"I-I fell down some stairs." I stammered.
"The fifth time this week, I know." I finished.
"Watch where you step, Alesah!" Dad said firmly.
"Well, okay," Dad said with a small smile.
"So, Milady," My dad called to my mom.
"What're we having tonight?" "Extra-spicy spaghetti in meat sauce!"
I dressed for bed and flopped down onto the blanket, holding Brisingr above me at arm's length. Should I take it to school with me tomorrow? I thought absently.
The note had said to keep it with me and safe.
Guess I will, I thought.
"After all," I said out loud. "What could happen?"
Okay, everyone! Like, Fave, Follow, or Review! Depending on your liking for this story, do whatever you think is best! But I'd rather you all review. Thanks for reading the first chapter!