The Inheritance Cycle: Getting My Wish Fulfilled (Eragon)

[2,689 words]

'It's big' Eragon and Brom stood at the front gates of Teirm, gazing up at the towering stone walls that encased the city. It was a far cry from Carvahall. Teirm's imposing gates, framed by tall watchtowers, were flanked by heavily armed guards.

Their stern expressions and gleaming armor reflected the growing unease in Alagaësia. With the Empire's tightening grip on its territories, Teirm was more fortified than ever.

Eragon shifted uncomfortably as he observed the guards' sharp eyes scanning each traveler entering or leaving. The weight of his sword, Zar'roc, pressed against his side, a constant reminder of the danger they faced. The tension in the air was palpable as they approached the gate.

Brom, calm and collected as always, walked with purpose. When they reached the guards, Brom pulled out a small pouch filled with coins. "We're just passing through," he said smoothly, handing over the bribe. The guard's eyes flickered with recognition as he weighed the coins in his hand before nodding them through.

"Names?" one of the guards asked, more out of habit than suspicion.

"Evan and Neal," Brom answered without hesitation. Eragon, or rather Evan for now, remained silent, letting Brom take the lead. They stepped through the gates and entered the bustling city, the sounds of merchants, laborers, and townsfolk filling the air.

As they entered Teirm, Eragon couldn't help but marvel at the sheer size of the city. Stone buildings stretched across the landscape, and the streets were teeming with life—vendors shouting from their stalls, children darting between the crowds, and craftsmen hammering away at their trades. It was nothing like Carvahall or anything he witnessed in his past life, and Eragon's eyes widened with excitement as they walked deeper into the city.

'So this is how you two leg creatures live? It's seems so messy and unorganized.' Saphira observed through Eragon's eyes at the city and soon came to a conclusion.

'One person's mess is merely another person's order, Saphira. Besides, if it works for us living like this then doesn't that mean that in all this chaos there is also order?' Eragon chuckled.

'Mmm I guess you are right, I've been too quick to judge I will give it some more thought' Saphira declared after a moment of consideration.

"Quite the place, isn't it?" Brom said with a slight grin as he glanced at Eragon. He had noticed the boy's intrigued expression the moment they stepped through the gates.

"It's amazing," Eragon admitted, his gaze sweeping over the bustling scene. "There's so much happening all at once. I've never seen anything like it before."

Though inwardly he thought it still pailed in comparison to the big cities in his previous world.

Brom chuckled. "Teirm is a busy city, especially with all the trade coming through the port. You'll find almost anything you can imagine here—goods from across the land, and plenty of opportunities if you know where to look."

Eragon nodded, still taking in the new sights. "It's exactly the kind of place I've always wanted to see. Carvahall feels so… small in comparison. There's just so much going on here."

"That's the nature of cities," Brom said with a knowing smile. "But remember, there's danger in places like this as well. Not everyone here has good intentions, as a matter of fact it's the opposite. Keep your eyes open and your wits about you."

Eragon nodded, the weight of Brom's warning settling on him. He knew all too well what Brom meant. In his previous life, cities had always seemed glamorous and full of promise on the surface, but beneath that exterior, they often harbored darkness and corruption that few ever saw.

"I understand," Eragon replied, his gaze drifting across the bustling city ahead. "But still... this is the kind of place I've always envisioned for myself. A place teeming with opportunity, wealth, and beauty," he paused, glancing at Brom with a hint of a smile. "A place where I can truly put my abilities to use and be admired for them."

Brom raised an eyebrow, catching the undertone of ambition in Eragon's words. There was a hunger there, a desire not just to survive but to thrive, to be recognized and respected. "Ambition is a powerful thing, Eragon," Brom said slowly, choosing his words with care. "It can drive you to great heights, but it can also lead you astray if you're not careful. Make sure it doesn't cloud your judgment or blind you to what really matters."

Eragon met Brom's gaze, feeling the older man's words sink in. He knew Brom was right. Ambition could be a double-edged sword—while it could propel him forward, it could also lead him down a path of recklessness and ruin if he let it. But Eragon also knew that his drive and ambition was what had kept him going, pushing him to become stronger, to survive in a world that always tried to crush him.

"I won't forget what really matters," Eragon said, his voice steady. "But I won't shy away from what I want either. This world is harsh, and to carve out a place for myself in it, I'll need more than just strength—I'll need ambition."

Brom studied him for a moment, then gave a slight nod. "As long as you keep your head on straight," he said, "you'll do fine. Just remember, power and admiration come with their own set of challenges. Make sure you're ready for them."

Eragon's eyes gleamed with determination. "I will be," he said confidently, turning his gaze back to the city. He wasn't just looking for survival—he was looking for a way to rise above, to be something more in a world that demanded greatness from those who sought to change it.

Brom nodded, satisfied for now. "Good. Now, let's find Jeod's house. He'll have the information we need." They asked around for directions, and after a few minutes of navigating through the busy streets, they got the address.

"Ten minutes' walk, they said," Brom muttered. "Let's move."

The walk was filled with the chatter of the city—children laughing, merchants bartering, and horses clopping down the cobblestone roads. Eragon remained alert, his eyes wandering over every corner, taking in the sights while feeling like he returned to the Middle Ages on earth.

When they arrived at Jeod's house, Brom turned to Eragon, lowering his voice. "Jeod is an old friend, and we can trust him. But for now, we shouldn't reveal you're a Rider. Just let me do the talking."

Eragon nodded. "Understood. I will stay silent while you talk."

Knock~ Knock~

Brom knocked on the door, and they waited in silence. As they stood there, Eragon glanced at the shop next door. Its windows were shuttered, and the door was closed. His heart skipped a beat—he remembered that shop from his past life. 'Angela,' he thought. The witch. That's should be her shop.

Before Eragon could dwell on it, the door to Jeod's house creaked open. A woman stood in the doorway. She was tall and elegant, with graying hair and a sharp, scrutinizing gaze. "Yes? What is it?" she asked, her voice tinged with impatience.

Brom stepped forward with a charming smile. "Good day, madam. We're here to see Jeod. Tell him Neal is here to speak with him."

The woman, who must have been Jeod's wife, Helen, narrowed her eyes. "He's busy. Very busy. You'll have to come back another time."

Brom didn't falter. "Please. It's urgent business. He'll want to hear what I have to say."

Helen stared at them for a moment, clearly unconvinced. Eragon wondered if they should just use magic on her, but after a tense silence, she sighed. "Wait here." She closed the door behind her, and they could hear her footsteps retreating into the house.

A few moments later, the door opened again, and an older man appeared. Jeod looked like he had aged far more then he should then the few years since the last time Brom had seen him. His face was lined with worry, and his once-strong frame had withered slightly. But his eyes—they lit up with surprise and something like hope when he saw Brom.

"Brom?" Jeod whispered, his voice filled with disbelief. "By the stars, I thought you were dead!"

Brom chuckled softly, stepping forward. "Rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated. But we shouldn't talk out here. May we come in?"

Jeod blinked, then nodded quickly. "Of course, of course. Come inside." He stepped aside, allowing them to enter the house. He led them through a small hallway into a room that was cluttered with books, maps, and scrolls. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the otherwise dimly lit room.

Once they were seated, Jeod's eyes drifted to Eragon for a moment, lingering as if he were trying to place him. Eragon felt the scrutiny but kept his expression neutral. Jeod turned back to Brom with a raised brow, a silent question hidden in the glint of his eyes.

Brom met his gaze, giving him a subtle nod. "You can trust him," he said simply.

Jeod let out a small sigh of relief and leaned back in his chair. "So much has changed since you disappeared, Brom. The egg we worked so tirelessly to obtain has vanished. Arya's convoy was ambushed, and now she's missing—presumed dead. The dwarves are growing increasingly restless, with some even calling for the Varden to be cast out of Tronjheim. The elves have withdrawn into their forest, cutting off all communication and support to the Varden.... Everything is slowly unraveling. Ajihad... he's doing his best to hold things together, but I don't know how much longer he can keep it up."

Outside the city, hidden from sight, Saphira sharpened her focus on the conversation, listening intently through her connection with Eragon.

Eragon, too, absorbed every word, though the intricacies of the Varden's politics and leadership were still somewhat foreign to him despite his knowledge. The tension in Jeod's voice made it clear that the situation was far graver than he had imagined.

Brom nodded, his expression somber. "I had my suspicions about Arya's situation, but the rest is news to me. That's part of why I'm here. I need to know everything—what's happening with the elves, the Varden... What exactly led to Arya's disappearance?"

Jeod rubbed a hand over his face, looking weary. "It's complicated. There were rumors of betrayal within the Varden. Whispers that someone close to Ajihad had leaked information to the Empire. But nothing concrete. Arya was tasked with transporting the egg as you very well know, but the route was compromised by someone. The Empire knew exactly where to strike."

Brom's expression hardened, a shadow passing over his eyes. "And the elven guards who were with her? What happened to them?"

Jeod shook his head, a grim look on his face. "Dead. Every one of them. They fought valiantly, I'm sure, but against the Shade and the Urgals, they didn't stand a chance. The Empire knew exactly what they were doing."

Brom clenched his fists, anger simmering beneath his calm exterior.

Eragon had a cold glint in his eyes. 'The Shade, Durza… he is probably torturing Arya as we speak, trying to pry the location of Saphira's egg from her mind. I should do something to free her like the original Eragon did or she might die in this timeline... Maybe I can tell Brom about her being held captive at Gil'ead and blame my knowledge on the visions again, although I haven't hade those visions yet I remember original Eragon will have them in a while.'

'But if I don't receive those visions, how do I lie with Saphira seeing my memories? She will know if I lie to Brom and will ask me how I know what I know... So far she didn't find anything strange with that mysterious god hiding my memories and thoughts of my past life, but that's only if I don't raise her suspicion..'

He frowned as he considered the implications 'I still haven't decided if I should tell Saphira I'm a reincarnated person and not a native soul of this world. If I do tell her, how will she react? At the end of the day, she did choose to hatch for me, so that means on some level she already approved of my personality and ambition... Does telling her about my reincarnation would even change anything'?

For over a year now, he had lived a life that was never truly his. He had replaced a boy who had lived in Carvahall, loved his family, and had a simpler life. For the first few days in this world, he carried the heavy weight of knowing this truth, however he soon came to terms with his situation, he didn't ask for any of this and it was god's fault to have reincarnated him as the boy, so why should he be the one to feel sorry and regretful?

Sure he might have fantasized about reincarnating quite a few times on Earth, but he was never actually given a choice in the matter and was just casted in this world one day out of the blue...

So he moved on and never gave the matter another thought. For all matter and purpose he is now Eragon.

Like this he lives and no one knew his secret—neither Garrow nor Roran, nor anyone he had met. The truth of his reincarnation was buried deep within him, locked away as something he shouldn't and didn't care enough to reveal.

Even after Saphira had hatched and their bond had deepened, Eragon remained steadfast in his decision to keep his secret to himself. He reasoned that everyone harbored secrets, even from those they loved. Just because he now shared a powerful connection with Saphira, a bond filled with trust and affection, didn't mean he had to reveal everything about his past. There were some things he believed were better left unsaid, even to her.

Lately, though, the weight of always being cautious, of constantly filtering his words and thoughts, had begun to wear on him. He found himself growing weary of the endless vigilance. The idea of confessing his secret—at least to Saphira—had crossed his mind more than once. There was a certain allure to the notion of unburdening himself to her, of sharing the truth with someone he trusted so deeply. But despite that temptation, he hadn't yet decided if he would take that step, unsure of the consequences that might follow.

Eragon was in his own world, but the conversation between Brom and Jeod continued.

Brom leaned forward, his voice low. "And the Varden? What of them?"

Jeod sighed. "Ajihad is doing what he can, but the situation is dire. Without the elves support, they're struggling to maintain their position. Supplies are running low, and morale is worse than ever. They need something—anything—that can turn the tide in their favor. To give them a win in this dark times..."

Brom nodded thoughtfully. "And what of you, Jeod? What's your role in all of this?"

Jeod smiled faintly. "I've done what I can from here. I've sent supplies when I can afford it, and I've kept an ear to the ground for any information that might help. But my influence is limited and recently my business suffered some setbacks as pirates raide my ships constantly. Sigh, I'm not the man I once was, Brom."

Brom gave him a sympathetic look. "None of us are."

The room fell into a brief silence, the weight of the conversation settling over them like a heavy fog. Finally, Jeod broke the quiet, his voice softer now. "Brom… what happened to you? Why did you disappear all those years ago?"

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A/N: I couldn't decide on if Eragon should tell Saphira on his reincarnation.

On one hand I hate it when a reincarnated person reveal his secrets to those around him, but on the other hand Saphira is supposed to be his bond and other half in life who he shouldn't need to hide secrets from..