Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon. I do not own the name "Cragon." I do not own Dragonriders of Pern. I do not own Star Wars. I do not own Lord of the Rings. I do not own Animorphs. I do not own the wyvern. I do not own the nicknames Ergy and Galby. I do not own Communism. I do not own the clichéd plot device. All your base are not belong to me. I do not own the "Speshul" tag; I ganked it from I do own this writing because I have the file on my hard drive and you don't. Don't bother hacking.

Authoress' Note: Cragon was originally written with > marks instead of -- marks, like in the Animorphs novels (which I do not own, btw) but this formatting doesn't like 'em.

Cragon, or, Anything CP Can Write, I Can Write Worser

Fifteen-year-old Cragon Zephyrstrider steadied his aim as he looked down at the sleeping buck. He surveyed the small herd and decided on another one; its antlers were bigger. He glanced back at his brother Rorin, four years his senior, who nodded, drawing the small knife at his belt. Cragon smiled, turning his eye back to the deer. He loved to hunt—not least because it flouted the nobles who were always lording it over common men like his father and him. It's not as if they dare to hunt in these mountains, anyway, he had reasoned bitterly His family wasn't poor by any stretch, his father owning a substantial plot of land, but they were far from nobility. Cragon's periodic deer hunts, aside from being sheer enjoyment, put meat on the table and provided a bit of extra income for Rorin and his newlywed wife Kathrin.

He loosed an arrow and it found its mark, sending the rest of the herd running. Rorin rushed forward, swiftly dispatching the buck, and began to dress it. Cragon slowly climbed out of the tree. His feet has just touched the ground—when an explosion shattered the night.

"Rorin!" Cragon screamed and impulsively ran through the smoking crater. He promptly tripped over a rock and fell on his face, cursing his clumsiness. As he struggled to get up, Rorin came to his side, pulling him to his feet with a strong hand. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, I just tripped over…something." Cragon looked backward and, in the middle of the crater, saw a black stone flecked with red and gold. It looked like nothing he had ever seen, and as he realized it was probably magical, he was filled with dread.

"What do you think it is?"

"I don't know, and I don't care. I mean, it suddenly appeared in front of us, so I guess I should care, but…let's just go, Rorin. In any case, it's most likely magical, and you know how Dad hates magic."

"So you want to just leave it here?"

"Well, why not? The less we get mixed up with magic—"

"Too late," Rorin said as the sound of beating wings filled the air. Two strange flying beasts landed in the clearing, from which dismounted men wearing black hooded cloaks and daggers at their waists. A third creature appeared shortly after, and a man with spiky red hair and flashing eyes climbed off and stood between the cloaked strangers. "Give us the egg."

"Give usss the egg," the cloaked men repeated.

It's an egg? Cragon thought as he and Rorin timidly backed away from the men. Cragon stood behind the egg and held out his hands, hoping the strangers would take their accursed magic and leave. "See, here's the egg, come take it, it's all yours…"

"Give usss the egg. Now."

Cragon continued to back away, dreading the thought of even touching the egg, especially now that three obviously magical—or evil, or possibly both—strangers had come demanding it. "You see, it's right there, you can come and take it. I'm not trying to trick you—"

"Give it to usss."

They're going to make death threats if we don't, aren't they? Cragon thought. He gulped and walked forward, slowly and deliberately, and bent down to retrieve the egg.

"Here, let me take it," Rorin said, stepping forward.

"No, Rorin." Cragon pulled his brother down for a huddle and whispered, occasionally sneaking glances at the men. "I'll do it. You can't let anything happen to you…Kat and the baby need you. But if anything happens to me…go home straightaway and tell Father. All right?"

"Cragon, you're trying to be stupidly brave again, aren't you? Like the time you shot the—"

"Rorin, please."

"I'm going to regret this," Rorin said as Cragon picked up the egg. It felt oddly warm in his hand. He crossed the burnt-out field and handed the egg to the spiky-haired man, who smirked, thanked him, and promptly flew off with his two hissing companions.

Rorin and Cragon stared until Rorin broke the silence. "So. Care to give me a hand with the deer?"

"Sure," Cragon said, glad to be distracted. They hurriedly dressed the buck and started to carry it down the mountain.

"Hey, Cragon?"

"What, Rorin? Come on, we shouldn't stop now. It's only a short walk to the village, and the last thing I want to do is run into a wolf pack or a bear with this carcass on us."

"Cragon, you are sure you're okay?"

"I'm sure. I don't feel any different. I did get a creepy feeling from those guys in black, but I don't think I got, y'know, affected by a spell or anything."

"Good to know. And if anyone asks, nothing happened up there. The egg appeared, the egg is gone, you're fine. Do not say a word to Dad about it, or he'll never let you go hunting with me again."

"And you don't say a word to Kat."

"Of course. Hey, go run home to Dad and tell him you're having dinner with us tonight," Rorin said as they reached the village and parted ways.

Six months flew by as winter and spring passed, and Cragon continued his routine of hunting, farming, listening to the local storytellers at the tavern, watching his father cheat on his taxes, and visiting Rorin, Kat, and Kat's father, the miller, whose apprentice Rorin had been.

One summer morning as he was checking his traps for rabbits, he came across a black figure tearing at what he suspected was one of his catches. He drew his bow, intent on shooting it, when it turned its head towards him and flapped its wings. Cragon stared at the dragon—for what else could it be?—and tried to conceal his growing panic.

The dragon crawled towards him on its wings and hind legs, its tail swishing from side to side. Cragon steadied his aim, looking for any chink, literal or metaphorical, in its armor plating. The dragon slowly raised itself to its full height: little taller than Cragon. This thing shouldn't be so tough, he tried to reassure himself.

The black dragon glared at him with amber-colored eyes, and softly intoned, --Rider Cragon.--

"You can talk?" Cragon asked, completely stunned. He lowered his bow.

--I'm not sure how. It appears to be inherited. Rider Cragon, -- the dragon said, musing over his name.

"Wait, how am I your rider?"

--You touched my egg. Only those who touch a dragon's egg can be Rider, and it was either you or the creepy guy. Congratulations, kid. We're fated.--

"What about the guy who sent your egg here? It didn't seem to be the man in the cloak."

--No…from what I can recall of egg-memory, it was another who cast the spell. But he must be long dead. Either that or he was bonded to another dragon already.--

"Bonded? You mean like the Riders and dragons in the stories?"

--Yes. We are fated to be together. Until one of us dies, of course.--

"You mean like, you follow me around all the time? There's a problem with that. I don't think—"

--Do you reject me, just as Naz'gul did?-- the dragon hissed, black flames curling at the edges of its mouth.

"Naz'gul?"

--I hatched for Naz'gul. At first I believed him to be my Rider, the one to whom I would bond.-- The dragon paused for dramatic effect. --But Naz'gul had different ideas. As soon as he saw my…--

"Your what?"

The dragon spread its wings wide, screeching and Cragon saw that it possessed no forelegs. --My…ambulatory impediment, -- the dragon stated. --Viewing me as defective, he threw me into a sewer to die. However, I survived, having discovered quickly that rats were in abundance and made quite nice prey items. I learned to hunt there, and when I felt I was strong enough, I searched for a new Rider. My magic led me to you…but I see my efforts have been wasted.--

"It's not that," Cragon said. "It's my father. You see…well, you know."

--If you haven't figured it out yet, I can't read your mind. You'll have to tell me.--

Cragon took a deep breath and began his story. "My mom left when I was just a baby. Rorin was five, so he remembers her better than me. Dad wouldn't talk about it, but Rorin says that she was very beautiful, and one day she left our father to marry an elf. Rorin says Dad was never the same…he damned the elf, claiming that a spell had been put on my mother, and got angry whenever anyone mentioned magic around him, calling it evil work." He paused, looking sadly at the dragon. "I don't want to throw you away. But if I'm going to be your Rider, I can't let Dad see you."

--Then perhaps I shall live a solitary life, like the Dragons of old, needing no Rider to tie my destiny to…--

"Is that even possible? A dragon without a Rider?"

--I believe the legends say that once in a hundred, or a thousand years, there are those born called the Speshul. These rare individuals somehow overcome the limits of their race. I sometimes like to believe I am one of these, needing no Rider, human or elf, to be companion for,-- the dragon mused, looking down at its chest. --But I am…crippled. I cannot ever be Speshul. -- It looked Cragon in the eye with renewed vigor. --I can choose to delude myself, though. Now that I understand our fates cannot be intertwined, any more than when I sought to bond myself to Naz'gul…starting today I have no Rider and need no Rider. Would you do me one last favor?--

"What could I do for you?"

--Give me a name, -- the dragon said. --I have gone nameless for so long, and I desire a proper name. I will accept it from you, non-Rider Cragon, for I know of no one else…and you have listened to me ramble on.--

Cragon thought of all the possible names that could describe a black dragon, none of them very flattering. "Dark…evil…shadow…hey, how about Shadowfax?"

--Shadowfax? Well, it's a male name, but I suppose it'll do.--

"You're a girl?"

End chapter one. Cragon and Shadowfax part ways as Cragon continues his humdrum life and Shadowfax hangs out in the Backbone, the untamed mountains where nobles fear to tread. They run into each other occasionally and exchange intel, eventually becoming hunting partners and good friends. Cragon gets over his fear of magic, and eventually Rorin joins the duo. One year later, Cragon's worst fear comes true when a fearsome army, the Varden, sweeps across the land, hell-bent on a crusade to destroy the Empire and replace it with an atheistic vegan Commune. Cragon is conscripted into the Empire's ranks, where he meets his sergeant Brom, a mercenary named Murtagh, the drunken dwarf Oreck, and Nasuada, a lieutenant fresh out of the academies and General Ajihad's daughter. Along the way, they'll encounter Shadowfax again, the frosty, ass-kickin' leather wearin' dominatrix Arya, and her consort and leader of the enemy army, Cragon's half-elven half-brother, Ergy! What of Cragon's and Ergy's mother? Will the Varden prevail over Emperor Galby's armies? And always, the sinister mastermind Naz'gul lurks in the shadows, waiting to make a move…