The Inheritance Cycle: Getting My Wish Fulfilled (Eragon)

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room as Eragon stirred in his bed. It had been two weeks since his return from the trip to Carvahall and that first day working in the fields with Garrow and Roran.

Since then, life had fallen into a steady rhythm—one of work, training, and careful secrecy. Every day, he rose with the dawn and helped his family in the fields, putting in hard labor under the scorching sun, his body growing ever more accustomed to the physical demands. And every night, after supper, he would slip away for a few precious hours of training, either in the privacy of his room or with a short walk near the woods.

For two weeks, this routine repeated itself. Each day, Eragon would push the plow alongside Roran, dig furrows, and sow seeds. His muscles ached with the exertion, but there was a satisfaction in seeing the field slowly take shape, row by row. Garrow often watched from a distance, nodding approvingly at the progress they made. The days were long and hot, but Eragon found solace in the routine. It kept his mind occupied, and with each passing day, the work became easier.

In the evenings, after the sun had set and the stars began to twinkle overhead, Eragon would retreat to his room. There, in the dim light of the moon shining through his window, he practiced. He stretched, strengthened his body, and honed his reflexes. His mind and body were now a battleground of quiet ambition and determination. The life he had known before, his past life, still lingered in his thoughts, and he couldn't afford to waste this second chance.

As the days turned into weeks, the hard work paid off. They finally finished plowing and planting, and with most of the arduous work behind them, Garrow declared that they had two months of relative freedom before the next major task in the cycle of farm life would demand their attention.

Roran, always eager to stay busy, announced his intention to seek work with Horst, the blacksmith, in Carvahall. It would be good, he said, to make some extra money while the fields rested. Eragon knew that Roran had other motivations—namely Katrina—but he didn't pry. He was just glad for the opportunity to pursue his own goals without drawing too much attention.

With Roran off to Carvahall most days, and Garrow content to handle the lighter tasks around the farm, Eragon now had the time he craved. Early each morning, he would rise before dawn, slipping out of the house quietly so as not to wake the others. He would head for the Spine, running for an hour to reach his secluded training spot deep in the forest. The Spine, with its towering trees and rugged terrain, was the perfect place to push his limits.

His excuse for early rising, though simple, was effective. He told Garrow and Roran that he was taking on extra hunting trips to help provide more food for the household. With winter approaching, he explained, it was important to ensure they had enough meat and pelts stocked up.

He also mentioned setting traps in various parts of the Spine, which required daily checks and resets. It was a practical excuse, one that fit well with the needs of the farm, and it allowed Eragon the freedom to train without suspicion.

The routine continued for two months. Every day, Eragon trained intensely, pushing his body to its limits. He would spend hours practicing with a makeshift sword and his bow and arrows, honing his speed, strength, and agility. His body became lean and muscular, his movements fluid and precise.

He could now lift heavy rocks that would have been impossible for him to budge before, and his endurance had increased to the point where running through the forest felt almost effortless. His reflexes, sharpened by constant practice, were quick as a cat's, and he found himself able to leap higher and move faster than ever before. It was as if his body was becoming a finely tuned machine, each muscle working in perfect harmony with the others.

One afternoon, after a long training session, Eragon was on his way back home. A large deer was slung over his shoulders, its weight hardly noticeable as he descended the mountain paths. He had taken it down with a single arrow, his enhanced reflexes and strength allowing him to move with the precision of a seasoned hunter.

The deer's antlers bounced slightly as he walked, but Eragon barely felt the strain. His body had grown so much stronger over the past few months, and the changes were evident in his appearance. His once wiry frame was now sculpted with muscles, and he had grown taller—at least two inches, making him now stand at 5'7 feet tall.

When Eragon finally reached the farm, the sun was just beginning to set, casting a warm orange glow over the fields. He approached the house and gently dropped the deer beside the door with a soft thud. Inside, he could hear Roran and Garrow talking. As soon as he opened the door, their conversation halted, and they both turned to see him standing in the doorway, sweat glistening on his brow, a proud but tired smile on his face.

"Eragon!" Roran exclaimed, his eyes widening in surprise. "Wow! You brought back a deer?!"

Garrow stood up from the table, his brows raised in astonishment. "Well, I'll be... That's quite the catch, my boy. How in the world did you manage that?"

Eragon shrugged modestly, though inside he felt a surge of pride. "Just lucky, I guess. It was grazing near the edge of the forest, and I was able to sneak up on it."

Roran grinned widely, clapping Eragon on the back. "Lucky or not, that's a one fine deer! We'll be eating well for weeks. We can even send some meat to Horst's family haha"

Garrow nodded approvingly, though his sharp gaze lingered on Eragon for a moment longer than usual. "You did good, Eragon. Real good. Let's get this thing skinned and the meat preserved."

"Yes, that's why I brought it here to be frank. Skinning and packing the whole carcass would have taken me several hours while also attracting wolves, so I figured I might as well carry the whole thing back home so you would help me" Eragon said with a grin.

"I wouldn't mind helping you skin a deer every day, you just need to keep them coming haha" Roran patted Eragon on the shoulder as he walked past him towards the deer.

Garrow behind was shaking his head at Roran enthusiasm but he too was quite happy.

The three of them worked together outside, skinning the deer and cutting the meat into manageable portions. Eragon, moving with practiced ease, found himself enjoying the task more than he expected.

The physical labor felt rewarding in a different way than training did—like he was contributing directly to their survival. As they worked, the air was filled with the sound of knives slicing through flesh and the low murmur of conversation.

"This will keep us going for a long time," Roran said, his voice tinged with satisfaction as he sliced a thick cut of meat from the deer's haunch. "I will admit this, you've outdone yourself this time, Eragon."

Garrow, wiping his brow with the back of his hand, added, "Aye. You've proven yourself to be quite the hunter. If you keep bringing back game like this, we won't have to worry about food for the winter."

Eragon hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Actually," he began, carefully choosing his words, "I was thinking... Maybe it would be better if I focused on hunting full-time. I could go up into the Spine regularly and bring back more game. It would free you and Roran up to work on the farm, and with the extra meat and pelts, we could sell some in Carvahall for extra money."

Garrow frowned slightly, considering the idea. "You're saying you want to stop working the fields?"

"Not entirely," Eragon replied quickly. "But I think I could be more useful this way. I can still help out when you need me, but hunting is something I'm good at now and I also very much enjoy it. It makes sense to focus on it."

Roran, already sold on the idea, nodded enthusiastically. "He's right, dad. With Eragon bringing in more game, we'd have more than enough to eat and sell. And it would save us a lot of time and effort. I don't mind working harder to compensate for the lost labor"

Garrow remained silent for a moment, his expression thoughtful. He looked at Eragon, his gaze softening as he saw the determination in his nephew's eyes. "I don't like the idea of you going off into the Spine alone every day," he said quietly. "But... you've proven yourself capable. If this is what you want to do, I won't stop you."

A grin spread across Eragon's face, relief washing over him. "Thank you, Garrow. I promise I'll bring back more than enough to keep us going."

And so, the routine continued. Even after the harvest was complete and the hard work of the farm lessened, Eragon kept to his daily training in the Spine. Every morning, he left before dawn and returned late in the evening, always with some game in hand. Whether it was quails, wild chickens or rabbits, hunting had become almost effortless for him now.

His enhanced physique not only increased his physical traits but also his five senses to a high degree, which allowed him to track and take down animals with ease, and his growing skills only made him more confident.

As the months passed, autumn came and went, followed by the harsh chill of winter. The snow blanketed the fields and the mountains alike, but it didn't stop Eragon from continuing his routine. Winter hunting was difficult, but he was up to the task with his cold resistance, and he made sure to bring back at least one large animal every two weeks, ensuring that their food stores remained full.

The seasons cycled on. Spring brought new growth to the land, and summer warmed the air once again. It had been a full year since Eragon had come to this world—a full year of hard work, training, and quiet determination.

He had changed so much since that first day in the Spine, both physically and mentally.

At 15 and a half years old, he now stood a full 5'9 feet tall, his body muscular and powerful yet still lean and graceful as if ready to pounce at a moment's notice. His face more mature and sharp, no longer having baby fat. No one in the village would ever call him for a boy now.

One late night, Eragon lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling as the faint light from the moon filtered through his small window. He had been trying to fall asleep for the past hour, but his thoughts kept circling back to the same thing—Saphira's egg.

It had been a year since he arrived in this world, and he knew the egg was supposed to arrive soon. 'Any day now,' he thought. 'It should be here any day now.'

He tried to calculate the timeline in his head. 'The egg should have arrived around this time in the original timeline,' he mused. But this time was different; he was different. He wasn't sure if his presence or actions would affect the timing of Saphira's arrival somehow. He couldn't afford to take any chances. If the egg appeared while he was still inside the house, the burst of magic from the egg might damage the structure, and that would only bring trouble.

He shook his head. 'No, I can't count on the egg arriving during the day while I'm outside. It could come at night, and I can't risk being here when it does.' His brow furrowed in thought as he considered his options. 'I should go on another expedition... maybe a few weeks at a time. I can't be at home too much, just to be safe. That way, if it happens at night, I won't be here to destroy the house and attract Garrow and Roran attention.' The plan was sound. A few weeks away, setting up camp in the Spine, and returning with game would serve both purposes.

His mind then drifted to the past year, reflecting on his progress. He reviewed the resistances he'd gained, feeling satisfied with how far he'd come.

[Pain Resistance Level 132]

[Radiation Resistance Level 145]

[Fatigue Resistance Level 156]

[Abrasion Resistance Level 120]

[Heat Resistance Level 130]

[Blunt Force Resistance Level 90]

[Oxygen Deprivation Resistance Level 66]

[Vertigo Resistance Level 59]

[Irritant Resistance Level 23]

[Cold Resistance Level 135]

[Poison Resistance Level 37]

[Sleep Deprivation Resistance Level 140]

[Alcohol Resistance Level 12]

[Cut Resistance Level 21]

[Hunger Resistance Level 69]

[Pressure Resistance Level 18]

[Dehydration Resistance Level 58]

[Sickness Resistance Level 3]

[Virus Resistance Level 3]

[Sensory Overload Resistance Level 41]

'It's a shame,' he thought to himself, 'I didn't have any more poisonous substances to train with or I could have gotten my poison resistance much higher by now.' He sighed. Despite this, the other resistances had increased nicely, especially his fatigue, sleep deprivation and radiation resistance. The training had been grueling, but he was pleased with the results.

Now, he only needs two hours of sleep each night to wake up feeling completely refreshed.

Despite this, he choose not to take advantage of it. He enjoys his sleep too much, so he usually allows himself a full 6-8 hours of rest every night.

Also, his body has adapted to fatigue resistance so well that during training, he can push himself relentlessly, almost like a machine that never tires.

He smiled slightly as he thought about the seven new resistances he had gained. He had pushed himself hard, searching for ways to increase his resilience.

Cut Resistance he received after falling down and cutting himself on a sharp rock, it's definitely not because he had to cut himself sometimes, absolutely not. All the leveling up of this skill happened from falling down.

Dehydration Resistance had come from his days spent training with limited water. He had trained himself to endure long periods without hydration, and in return, his body had become more efficient in managing water, allowing him to last longer in harsh environments.

Hunger Resistance came from the days when he deliberately cut down on food, trying to train his body to conserve energy. The results were satisfying. He could now go longer without food, still able to perform at high levels even with an empty stomach.

Pressure Resistance had been a surprise. By diving into the river and pushing himself to stay and go deeper, he'd got up a tolerance to pressure changes. He was pleased with this one so he worked extra hard on it — it felt good to watch it grow so fast.

Virus Resistance and Sickness Resistance came at the same time one day so he guessed it might be the flu or something. After that one time these two skills didn't increase at all again.

Sensory Overload Resistance was the result of his late-night training sessions during storms or times when the environment was chaotic. The resistance had come in handy when his senses were bombarded by loud noises or bright lights.

He sighed again. 'Still, it's a shame. After an entire year of hard thinking, I only came up with seven new resistances. I was hoping for more.' He felt a small wave of disappointment creep in, but he quickly pushed it aside.

'No,' he told himself firmly, 'I won't get discouraged. Soon, I'll have magic, and with it, I'll be able to develop many more resistances. The possibilities will be endless.' The thought brought him comfort as he began to relax.

Still, his mind wandered. What other resistances could he develop in the future? There had to be more ways to toughen his body, more skills he could unlock. The ideas started to blend together in his tired mind as sleep slowly overtook him.

With a soft sigh, Eragon finally closed his eyes, his thoughts quieting as he drifted into sleep, knowing that soon, everything would change.