The Inheritance Cycle: Getting My Wish Fulfilled (Eragon)

[3,207 words]

Brom watched Eragon's and Saphira's exchange in silence, his sharp eyes catching every small gesture between them. He sighed quietly before continuing. "Something must have gone wrong while the elves carried the egg," he said, his voice somber again. "For the egg to have suddenly appeared in your possession and for Saphira to have hatched here, far away from the elves and the Varden… it's no coincidence. Something significant must have happened to disrupt their plans."

Eragon nodded slowly, his mind seemingly working to piece things together. He could not reveal what he knew—that Arya, the elf carrying the egg, had been captured by Durza, the Shade, and had sent the egg to him in a desperate act of magic. But he knew better than to say that now. Instead, he played along.

"Do you think Galbatorix was involved?" Eragon asked, his brow furrowing in thought. "Could he have tried to reclaim the egg?"

"It's possible," Brom admitted, his voice taking on a grim note. "Galbatorix has been hunting for dragon eggs for years, trying to breed more dragons under his control. But the details are unclear. What matters now is that you and Saphira are here, together." Brom's gaze settled on Saphira, his eyes reflecting both awe and respect. "She's chosen you, Eragon. And that means you have a destiny to fulfill."

Saphira's tail swished gently behind her, her eyes glowing with determination. 'We are bound by fate, Eragon. We were always meant to find each other.'

Eragon smiled again, feeling that same surge of warmth in his chest. "Yes, we were," he agreed softly. "And now we have to figure out what comes next."

Brom nodded, the weight of responsibility heavy in his gaze. "What comes next is the road ahead," he said quietly. "We must prepare ourselves. The world is changing, and with Saphira at your side, you'll be at the center of it."

Saphira's eyes narrowed as she listened intently. Eragon's heart sank slightly at the implications. "So... what does that mean for us?" he asked cautiously.

"It means," Brom continued, "that we must investigate. I've been waiting for Saphira to grow large enough to be capable of defending herself and carry you. And now that she has, we must leave. We must find the Varden and learn what happened, staying in the dark is no longer an option."

Eragon looked over at Saphira, who met his gaze with a determined nod. He could feel her eagerness through their bond. She was as ready as he was to leave this place behind and face whatever lay ahead.

"I understand," Eragon said, turning back to Brom. "I'm ready to leave whenever Saphira is."

Saphira's mind brushed against his again, her voice filled with excitement. 'I'm not just ready, Eragon. I'm eager. I've grown tired of this place and long to see the outside world,' Saphira said through their mental link, her thoughts filled with a palpable yearning for adventure.

Eragon smiled at her, nodding in agreement. "I feel the same way," he said aloud. "We've spent enough time here. It's time we go out and see what's waiting for us."

Brom raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a small, almost reluctant smile. "I have to say, I expected more resistance from you, Eragon," he said, studying the boy. "Most people would be hesitant to leave their home behind."

Eragon shrugged. "From the moment Saphira hatched, I knew my life was going to change," he explained, his tone thoughtful. "I knew I would have to leave Carvahall eventually. I'm not afraid of it. And besides, I have a duty as a Dragon Rider. Saphira and I... we need to act."

Brom snorted softly, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, his eyes gleamed with something between amusement and respect. "Duty, huh? Perhaps there's more to you than just vanity and ambition after all," he said, his voice laced with both sarcasm and sincerity.

Eragon chuckled, knowing Brom was teasing him. "Maybe I'm growing up," he said, half-serious.

Brom tilted his head, his gaze sharpening as if assessing the truth of that statement. "Perhaps," he agreed slowly. "But remember this, Eragon: being a Dragon Rider is more than just wielding power and fulfilling a duty. It's about balance—between the will of the people, your own desires, and the responsibilities of leadership. Don't let one outweigh the others, or you'll end up as lost as Galbatorix."

Eragon absorbed Brom's words, his brow furrowing in contemplation. 'Balance huh...' he thought to himself. 'I'll have to figure that out.'

Saphira, sensing his momentary unease, nuzzled him gently with her snout. 'Don't worry, Eragon. We'll figure it out together. We are stronger together,' she reminded him, her mental voice soothing.

Eragon smiled softly, patting her scaly head in reassurance. "I know."

Brom cleared his throat, breaking the moment. "Now," he said, his tone turning brisk and practical, "I've already arranged all the supplies we'll need for the journey,water, provisions, and everything else. We can leave whenever you're ready."

Eragon exchanged a glance with Saphira. She gave him a firm nod, her eyes filled with excitement and determination. He turned back to Brom, his voice steady and confident. "Tomorrow morning."

Brom looked between the two of them, a hint of pride flickering in his eyes, though his expression remained stoic. "Then we leave at dawn," he said decisively.

A pause followed, the weight of the decision settling between them. Brom broke the silence, his brow furrowing in thought. "What about Garrow and Roran? Have you thought how to tell them you leave?"

Eragon frowned, considering the question. His mind raced as he pictured Garrow's stern face and Roran's trust in him. After a moment, he shook his head. "I've thought about it long ago, and I don't intend to tell Garrow about Saphira or that I'm a Dragon Rider. So without a good reason to explain why I need to leave Carvahall, the only excuse I could offer would be something like going on a tour of Alagaësia or finding work in a city. But Garrow won't allow me to leave. I haven't even turned sixteen yet. He'd never agree."

Brom raised an eyebrow at this but didn't speak right away, waiting for Eragon to continue.

Eragon sighed, his decision resolute. "Instead of getting into an argument and parting ways on bad terms, it's better if I leave a letter. At least they'll know I'm safe and not just vanished without a trace."

"It's better to seek forgiveness than ask for permission, after all" Eragon added with a small, wry smile.

Brom exhaled deeply, folding his arms across his chest. "That's one way of looking at it. But leaving without telling them... That's not an easy choice. Still, I can see your reasoning. Just make sure your letter explains enough for Garrow and Roran to understand."

Eragon nodded, his expression firm. "I will."

Brom hadn't offered to help Eragon with writing his letter, believing the boy could manage it on his own. Over the past three months, Brom had been teaching Eragon to read and write in the common tongue after learning that Garrow, his uncle, had never deemed it necessary to teach him such things.

Surprisingly, despite the challenge of learning two languages simultaneously—the human language and the ancient tongue—Eragon had displayed his impressive intellect. In just three months, he had not only learned how to read and write with ease but had become remarkably fluent in both languages. His ability to grasp complex grammar and vocabulary with such speed and accuracy left Brom quietly astonished. There was a sharpness to Eragon's mind that shone through every lesson, a natural brilliance that made even difficult tasks appear effortless.

This once again left Brom to sigh at how remarkable Eragon is.

Saphira, who had been quietly listening, chimed in with her thoughts, sending a warm message into their mental connection. 'It is wise. They would only worry if they knew too much. But we will protect them, even from afar.'

Eragon smiled at her words. 'Thank you, Saphira. I know we're making the right decision.'

Brom glanced at Saphira, acknowledging her input with a slight nod before his expression softened. "You have progressed well in this 3 months Eragon, and although I still have much to teach you before you can be considered a full-fledged Dragon Rider, there's something else I want to give you." He turned toward the saddlebag he had placed on the ground earlier and retrieved a long, slender bundle wrapped in cloth. With deliberate care, he unwrapped it, revealing a gleaming red sword with intricate designs etched along its blade.

"This sword," Brom began, his voice taking on a solemn tone, "is called Zar'roc. It once belonged to a Dragon Rider who lost his way, long long before. Normally, a Rider's sword matches the color of their dragon, but we don't have the luxury of waiting for a new one to be forged. With your strength and abilities, any regular sword you use would break under the strain. But this... this is no ordinary blade. It was forged by elves, imbued with magic, and is nearly indestructible."

"It's...?" Eragon's eyes widened as he stared at the weapon in recognition. It was Morzan's sword before, and now it belongs to Brom after he killed the Forsworn.

He could feel the energy emanating from it, a subtle hum of power coursing through the blade. He took it in his hands, marveling at the balance and weight. A Rider's sword… his first real sword. It felt right in his grip, as if it was meant for him.

"Ha thanks, Brom. Let me give it a try!" He couldn't help but grin, his excitement bubbling over. Without hesitation, he leaped to his feet, testing the blade with a series of swift slashes and thrusts. The sword moved like an extension of his body, cutting through the air with grace and precision. He swung it faster and faster, his movements blurring as the blade sliced through the air.

To Brom, Eragon's speed was almost unreal. The boy's form was a blur, and the only indication of his movements were the currents of air being displaced with each swing. He could barely follow the arc of the blade as it cut through the space before him. Brom could only stand in amazement, shaking his head at the sight.

Eragon, on the other hand, felt exhilarated. Each swing felt effortless, the sword responding to his every thought and movement. The power of it, the craftsmanship, the feel of the blade in his hand—it was like nothing he had ever experienced.

Saphira watched her Rider play with his new sword, her deep blue eyes sparkling with amusement. 'You look like a hatchling playing with its first toy,' she teased, her tone affectionate. 'But I see the joy in your heart, and that makes me happy.'

Eragon chuckled, slowing his movements as he admired the blade once more. 'I'm just excited, Saphira. This sword... it feels like it was made for me.'

She rumbled with contentment. 'Then it is a good gift. But remember, no matter how sharp the blade, it's the mind and heart of the Rider that matters most.'

'You have been spending a lot of time next to Brom lately, even repeating his words now' Eragon nodded, feeling the truth in her words. He was still coming to grips with all the implications that came with being a Rider, but he knew that as long as he continues to train hard and have Saphira by his side, he could face whatever challenges lay ahead.

'Brom is a smart man, there is nothing wrong with learning more from him.' Saphira snorted in reply.

'I guess not.' He chuckle back.

As Eragon sheathed the sword, Brom stepped forward, his expression more serious now. "It suits you, Eragon. Zar'roc is a powerful weapon, and in the right hands, it can be a force for great change in Alagaësia. But remember, power can corrupt. Don't let the strength of your body or your sword cloud your judgment. I knew we don't see eye to eye on the way you see your duty as a Dragon Rider but there's much more at stake than you realize."

Eragon's excitement dimmed slightly as he absorbed Brom's words, to be honest he was quite fed up with the constant lectures, but he understood the gravity of what his mentor was saying. He nodded. "I understand. I'll use it wisely. I don't know what I will do in the future, but I can promise to never use my powers for evil"

Brom placed a hand on Eragon's shoulder, giving him a rare smile. "Good. Now, get some rest. We have a long journey ahead of us, and you'll need all your strength for what's to come."

As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow over the clearing, Eragon felt a mixture of excitement and apprehension swelling within him. Tomorrow, they would leave Carvahall behind and set off on a journey that would change their lives forever. He had no idea what challenges awaited them, but for the first time in his life, he felt ready to face them head-on.

Saphira stretched her wings, shaking off the tension from the day. 'It's going to be an adventure, Eragon,' she said with a touch of playfulness in her voice. 'We'll finally be able to test our strength against the world.'

Eragon grinned, feeling a surge of adrenaline at her words. "Let's hope the world is ready for us."

Brom stood a few paces away, watching them both with a silent intensity. 'The boy is strong, incredibly so...' he thought to himself, his mind briefly drifting back to memories of his own dragon, of the times when he had felt so invincible. But he knew better now. Strength wasn't everything. It was the heart and the will that defined a Dragon Rider.

'The gods have given him the strength and talent needed to change the world,' Brom thought, his gaze hardening. 'Now I just need to make sure he doesn't lose his way.'

The sky darkened, and as the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, Brom turned away to his usual spot in the cave, leaving Eragon and Saphira to their thoughts.

Eragon lay on his makeshift bed, a rough arrangement of animal skins that barely cushioned him from the hard ground. The cave was quiet, the only sounds coming from the occasional crackle of the fire and the rhythmic breathing of those around him. Saphira was curled up beside him, her massive form taking up much of the space, while Brom slept a short distance away, his figure barely visible in the dim light.

Eragon stared up at the rocky ceiling, his mind wandering as he brought up his resistance skill list, mentally reviewing each one.

---

[Pain Resistance Level 160]

[Radiation Resistance Level 182]

[Fatigue Resistance Level 199]

[Abrasion Resistance Level 141]

[Heat Resistance Level 174]

[Blunt Force Resistance Level 112]

[Oxygen Deprivation Resistance Level 83]

[Vertigo Resistance Level 72]

[Irritant Resistance Level 23]

[Cold Resistance Level 149]

[Poison Resistance Level 37]

[Sleep Deprivation Resistance Level 153]

[Alcohol Resistance Level 12]

[Cut Resistance Level 34]

[Hunger Resistance Level 72]

[Pressure Resistance Level 21]

[Dehydration Resistance Level 73]

[Sickness Resistance Level 3]

[Virus Resistance Level 3]

[Sensory Overload Resistance Level 52]

[Magic Resistance Level 77]

[Mental Invasion Resistance Level 52]

---

As Eragon's thoughts wandered, they lingered on some of his resistance skills, reflecting on the significance of their growth.

'Mmm, pain is still there,' he mused, 'but it no longer affects me the way it used to. It's like a distant echo—present but muted, easy to ignore. It's a pity I have no idea how good Radiation Resistance is...'

Turning his eyes to his highest level skill, a smile spread on his face. Despite the grueling training he subjected himself to, fatigue had become a thing of the past. 'I have pushed my body far beyond its limits these days without feeling exhausted or having any adverse consequences. It's as if fatigue is just a passing inconvenience now.'

He shifted on the rough animal skins, feeling the heat from the nearby fire but knowing it posed no threat to him anymore. 'No normal fire can burn me now, and the cold is just as powerless. I've trained my Heat and Cold Resistance so much that only magic can push their level further.'

He recalled the countless nights spent honing his abilities. 'I can skip sleep for several nights in a row and still be as sharp as ever. There are no consequences for missing rest anymore, thanks to Sleep Deprivation Resistance.'

He remembered a recent test of his breath-holding ability. 'Last time, I held my breath for over an hour and a half without any discomfort—no sense of suffocation or panic. Just calm control.'

A faint smile crossed his face again as he thought of his Blunt Force Resistance. 'Even if someone tried to hit me with hammers or stones, they wouldn't cause a bruise or even a mark on my skin. My body has grown that tough with Blunt Force Resistance of a level 112.'

His mind then wandered to the more abstract defenses he had. 'Magic and mental attacks... From my personal experiments with magic, and from from practicing defending my mind with Brom, low-level spells and attempts to invade my mind are useless now. They bounce off like nothing, thanks to Magic Resistance and Mental Invasion Resistance.'

In conclusion, Eragon considered his skills exponential nature. 'If I'm understanding things right, the way these skills work is exponentially. The higher the level, the more potent they become. Advancing one level at 100~ feels like advancing five levels at level 10~. The difference is massive. Though the same can be said about the difficulty of leveling them up. Before, I could get several level ups at the same day while now it take a few days to get one level... I wonder what would happen at level 200+...'

His gaze grew more serious as he turned his thoughts to the future. 'I need to concentrate on improving my Cut Resistance for the next few months. This world relies heavily on swords and knives after magic. Now that I have magic to heal myself, I no longer have a reason to hesitate anymore.'

Finally, Eragon sighed, a hint of frustration creeping in. 'It's a pity I don't have an elf to spar with, to compare my strength and speed. That would give me a better gauge of where my physique really stands.'

With these thoughts swirling in his mind, Eragon allowed himself to drift into a light sleep, the steady hum of his resistance skills a comforting reminder of the progress he had made—and the journey still ahead.

Tomorrow would be the start of something new—something far bigger than any of them could imagine.

And with that, the three of them prepared to leave the only home they had ever known, ready to face whatever lay ahead.

---

A/N: I'm not all that satisfied with this chapter, but I tried to give an indication on his resistance skills effectiveness.