Through the worst storm over the ocean in a century flew a girl on a dragon. "The island should be just up ahead," she thought, scanning the storm-tossed waves. "There!" the dark outline of an island loomed out of the sea in front of her. She landed her dragon in a cave, and called out. "Can anyone hear me? Is anyon there?" the silence wasn't right. There should have been a riddle, or passcode to enter the mountain. Then she noticed the blood. It was dripping from the ceiling, and when she identified the source, she gasped. It was her father. Eragon was dead.

I woke up in a cold sweat. This was the third time I had had that dream since I had killed that insane wild dragon, and it got worse every time I had it. By now, I knew that it was just a dream, but the first time I had it, it scared me out of my skin. My name is Selene. I am one of the new Dragon Riders, and my dragon's name is Storm. My father, as you may have already guessed, is Eragon, and my mother is Arya. Storm is descended from Saphira and Firnen, and is a dark teal color. I watch over Alagaesia while my father teaches riders how to fight. When they are ready, they are taught magic by the elves, in Ellesmera. For the most part, I guard Alagaesia, flying all over, settling disputes, that sort of thing. Sometimes pretty boring, but still worth it. Lately, though, things have started to get out of hand. A wild dragon built her nest over the sea, and lost her egg. It drove her insane, and she started destroying villages and generally wreaking havoc among people and urgals alike.