The Inheritance Cycle: Getting My Wish Fulfilled (Eragon)

[3,076 words]

Eragon's smile widened as he shook his head slightly, his eyes locking with Brom's. "Even if I was unsure before, I'm certain now. Brom… you were once a Dragon Rider." His voice was quiet yet firm, with an air of confidence that left no room for denial.

Brom stood still, his expression inscrutable. He didn't speak, didn't move, just watched Eragon with a gaze that was as heavy as it was unreadable.

Seeing Brom's silence, Eragon continued after a moment, deciding to give him the explanation he had prepared. "Ever since Saphira hatched," Eragon said, his voice soft but steady, "I've had visions. Every night, I see images of a man—an older man, riding a dragon as blue as Saphira. At first, I dismissed them as dreams, but two nights ago, I saw something else."

Eragon paused, watching Brom's reaction closely. The old man's face twitched almost imperceptibly, the first hint that his composure might be cracking. Eragon pressed on, sensing he was getting closer to the truth. "In this vision," Eragon said, "the man spoke the word 'brisingr.' And then… somehow… he made fire appear. I woke up feeling strange, so I decided to test it. When I said the word myself…"

Eragon paused for effect, his voice dropping lower, almost conspiratorial. "Fire erupted from my hand. That's when I realized those visions weren't just dreams. They were something more. And the man I kept seeing… was you."

Brom's eyes widened in shock, his face going pale. For a moment, he seemed to forget how to speak. His mouth opened, closed, and then opened again as if he were trying to find the right words but didn't know where to begin. Should he admonish Eragon for his reckless use of magic? Or should he ask about these mysterious visions?

After several agonizing moments, Brom finally managed to speak, his voice trembling slightly. "These… visions of yours," Brom said cautiously, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized Eragon's face. "Tell me more. What exactly did you see?"

Eragon, who had already prepared for this line of questioning, kept his expression as neutral as possible. He deliberately stayed vague, not wanting to dig himself deeper into a fabricated story. "There wasn't much," he said with a casual shrug. "Just flashes of you on a blue dragon, speaking in some weird language. Nothing too specific."

Brom's frown deepened, and for a moment, it seemed as though he might press Eragon further. But Eragon's vague responses left him little to work with. Eventually, Brom sighed and decided to let it go for now. His brow furrowed in thought, as if weighing whether to push for more answers or to accept what had been said.

"Fine," Brom said at last, his voice filled with resignation. He shifted his weight and glanced toward Saphira. "Where did her egg come from? How did it came into your possession?" he asked, changing the subject entirely. His tone was still serious, though his curiosity had clearly shifted away from the visions for now.

Eragon, grateful for the change in topic, nodded. "One night over a month ago, while I was sleeping here in the cave, I heard a huge explosion," he began, recounting the story as it happened. "I rushed out of my cave, and when I got there, I saw a pit in the ground. At the bottom of it… was a blue egg."

'Did Arya try to teleport the egg to me and for some reason the magic somehow failed and sent the egg to Eragon? Can elf magic even fail on such proportion? Why did she need to send the egg to me anyway?' Brom fell silent at that, his eyes narrowing as his face became contemplative. He stood perfectly still, staring off into the distance, brooding over the implications of Eragon's explanation.

Minutes passed, but Eragon didn't interrupt the old man's thoughts. Instead, he sat down next to Saphira, letting her rest her warm head in his lap. She purred softly, her eyes half-closed as she relaxed under his gentle touch.

Finally, Brom snapped out of his reverie. He looked at Eragon and Saphira for a long moment.

He glanced at Saphira, her blue scales shimmered faintly in the dim light, her large, intelligent eyes following him calmly. He looked at her for a moment longer, then turned to Eragon, a curious expression crossing his face.

"What's her name?" Brom asked quietly, his voice softer than before, as if the question itself held great significance.

Eragon smiled as he glanced at Saphira, who gave a gentle rumble, almost as if encouraging him to speak.

"Her name is Saphira," Eragon said with pride in his voice.

Brom's eyes widened briefly, a flicker of recognition flashing across his face. For a moment, he seemed lost in thought, memories of another time surfacing behind his gaze. He nodded slowly, a small, almost imperceptible sad smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"A fitting name," Brom said softly, before sitting down across from them. His expression was thoughtful, and for a moment, it seemed like he wasn't quite sure what to say.

"So… what do do you expect to happen now?" Brom asked, his voice quiet but filled with the weight of the situation.

Eragon looked at him steadily, his voice calm but determined. "Well, if you're no longer going to deny being a Dragon Rider, then I would like to formally request that you teach me how to become one myself."

Brom stayed silent for a moment, his eyes searching Eragon's face as if looking for any sign of insincerity. Then, slowly, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He nodded, though he carefully avoided any explicit admission. "I will teach you," Brom said at last, "and Saphira. You will both need to become qualified Riders."

Eragon's smile widened at Brom's words. He noticed the old man's deliberate avoidance of directly admitting his past, but he chose not to press the issue. 'Just like in the book, this Brom and his secrets', Eragon thought to himself. 'If he ever met with that one-eyed spy from another universe, they'd probably be best friends. Or worst enemies...'

Saphira, sensing the shift in the conversation, purred louder and nudged her head against Eragon's chest. Her large blue eyes turned toward Brom, and she rumbled contentedly as if giving her approval. Eragon chuckled softly and scratched behind her jaw, looking at Brom. "Saphira and I will be under your care from now on."

Brom smiled at the sight of the two of them. "Good," he said, the warmth in his voice unmistakable. "Then no time is better than the present. Let's begin."

With that, Brom stood up and began pacing slowly in front of them, speaking in a measured, thoughtful tone. "Being a Dragon Rider means far more than just bonding with a dragon. It's about responsibility, not just to yourself and your dragon but to the world. You are protectors, peacekeepers, warriors when necessary, but never conquerors. You must always strive to use your power wisely."

Eragon listened intently, his eyes never leaving Brom's face. Saphira, too, seemed to be paying close attention, her eyes following Brom's every movement.

Brom continued, his voice taking on a more practical tone. "Taking care of Saphira is also a part of your duty. She will grow quickly, and her appetite will grow with her. For now, she can feed on smaller animals, but you'll need to find larger prey soon. Don't let her eat anything too small or too slow-moving; it won't provide enough nourishment for her. And avoid giving her too much of anything that comes from the water—fish, for instance."

Eragon nodded, making mental notes of everything Brom said. Hours passed as Brom explained the intricacies of dragon care, the meaning of the bond between Rider and dragon, and what lay ahead in their training. By the time Brom stopped talking, Eragon's head was swimming with new information.

"That's enough for now," Brom said at last, stretching his back with a groan. "We'll continue after lunch."

They moved outside the cave to start a fire. Eragon pulled out some dried meat, fruits, and bread from his pack while Brom gathered a few sticks for kindling. Once the fire was crackling merrily, they sat down to eat in comfortable silence.

As Brom stared into the fire, his expression became thoughtful again. After a few moments, his gaze snapped back to Eragon, his eyes sharp and serious. "About that magic you used," Brom began, his tone grave. "What you did was incredibly dangerous, Magic is not something to be played with. You shouldn't use or experiment with it unless you're under my guidance and in my presence in the future. At least until I deem you ready. Do you understand?"

Eragon nodded quickly, though he couldn't help but smile slightly as he stuffed a piece of meat into his mouth. "I know magic is probably very dangerous, Brom. But in my defense, I didn't know those visions were real, so how could I have known that by saying 'brisingr,' I'd actually cause a fire? Besides, after that one time, I haven't used magic again."

Brom studied him carefully, then nodded, seemingly satisfied with Eragon's response. "Good," he said gruffly. "We'll start your training with magic when I think you're ready."

Eragon nodded again, chewing thoughtfully on his food. He didn't bother asking Brom when he'd be ready for that training. He knew the old man probably already had a plan in mind, and no amount of pushing would make Brom change it. Instead, they ate in silence, both of them lost in their own thoughts.

After a few minutes, Brom stood up, brushing dust from his worn robes. He pointed toward a wooden sword leaning against the cave wall. "I see you've made yourself a wooden sword," Brom said with an amused glint in his eye. "Let's see what you know."

Eragon stood up, a little surprised but also eager. He grabbed his wooden sword and stepped out of the cave, facing Brom. The old man held a sturdy wooden staff, twirling it in his hands with practiced ease. Saphira crouched a little ways off, watching them both intently, her tail flicking back and forth with curiosity.

Eragon scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Actually.... there's something I should probably tell you first."

Brom, already twirling his staff with ease, raised a brow in amusement. He clearly believed Eragon was trying to buy himself more time, thinking perhaps the boy was afraid to lose. His lips curled into a knowing smile. "Oh? What is it?"

Eragon exhaled, gathering his thoughts. 'It's better to be upfront now before he finds out himself and gets suspicious later about why I hide it', he reasoned.

"My body," Eragon started slowly, "it's… different from a normal person's. I'm stronger and faster than most people—not because I'm a Dragon Rider, I've been like this long before I found Saphira's egg."

Brom paused mid-twirl, his smile fading as he took in the seriousness in Eragon's tone. He watched the boy closely, searching for any sign of a joke or exaggeration. But Eragon's expression remained earnest.

Eragon thought to himself, 'Sigh, it should be good to come clean now about this enhanced physique than risk raising Brom's suspicion later. It's obvious I can't exactly hide my strength forever.' He mentally tucked away the more crucial details about his past life and his Resistance Perk. Those secrets, he decided, would remain his most guarded and not told to anyone.

"Hahahhah" Brom let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head as if Eragon had just told the punchline of a joke. "So now you're going to tell me that you're so strong and fast that we shouldn't spar because you're worried about hurting an old man like me, right?"

Eragon winced inwardly at Brom's assumption as he know he won't believe him, but smiled awkwardly in response. He decided not to say anything more and let Brom continue assuming he was exaggerating.

"Drop the act and get on with it already," Brom said, stepping forward as he planted his staff firmly on the ground. "I promise I won't hit you too hard, boy. Apart from a bruised pride, you'll be fine."

Eragon sighed dramatically, looking at Brom with mock defeat in his eyes. "I told you, but you don't believe me," he said, shaking his head. "Don't blame me later, old man."

Brom's brow furrowed, and he waved his staff threateningly in the air. "Old man? You should be calling me 'teacher'!" he barked, but before Eragon could respond, Brom's staff shot forward in a sudden, swift strike aimed at Eragon's chest.

Swoosh~

From Eragon's perspective, the movement was almost comically slow. He sidestepped it easily, the staff whistling harmlessly past him. Brom blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting Eragon to dodge so effortlessly.

"So you do have some skills huh? But not enough!" Narrowing his eyes, Brom began to attack faster, his staff now moving with more speed and precision. But each strike, no matter how fast or tricky, was dodged by Eragon with a small smile playing on his lips. He weaved around the attacks with a fluidity that seemed almost unnatural for someone so young and untrained.

Saphira watched from her crouched position, her tail flicking idly behind her, amused by the spectacle unfolding before her.

Swoosh~ Swoosh~ Swoosh~

Brom continued to increase the speed of his attacks, his strikes coming with more force and aggression, but it was no use. Eragon dodged everything with grace, his wooden sword held in a lowered position as he danced around Brom's staff. Finally, after what felt like minutes of dodging, Eragon decided it was time to end the game.

Swoosh~ Bang!

In one smooth, powerful motion, he raised his wooden sword and brought it down on Brom's staff with enough force to send the staff flying out of the old man's hands. The wooden staff clattered to the ground several feet away, and Brom stood there, frozen, his hand trembling slightly from the shock of the impact.

For a long moment, Brom could only stare at Eragon in disbelief. His face was a mixture of shock and confusion, his sharp mind struggling to process what had just happened. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He glanced down at his trembling hand, then back up at Eragon, his eyes wide with astonishment.

"I… I didn't believe you," Brom finally managed, his voice laced with disbelief. He rubbed his hand, still feeling the aftershock of Eragon's blow. "By the gods, boy. How is this possible?"

Eragon, still holding the wooden sword, gave a small shrug. "I told you," he said with a half-smile. "I'm stronger than I look."

Brom quickly recovered from his shock, though his mind was still racing with questions. He began to barrage Eragon with questions about his newfound strength—when it started, how long he had been like this, whether he had any idea what was causing it.

Eragon, however, remained as vague as possible, offering non-committal answers. "It started about a year and a half ago," he explained, deliberately keeping his details fuzzy. "I don't know why or how, but my body started changing. So far, I haven't found anything wrong with it, but I haven't exactly had anyone to check me out either."

Brom studied him intently, clearly unsatisfied with the vague answers but too preoccupied with the implications to push further. Eventually, Brom sighed and shook his head, a smile slowly spreading across his face.

"We'll need to do some proper checking to be sure there are no harmful consequences to this… transformation," Brom said with a grin. "But for now, this is good news. It'll save us a lot of time during your training."

Brom walked over to where his staff had fallen and picked it up, dusting it off. He turned back to Eragon, eyes gleaming with new determination.

"We won't spar for now," Brom said, resting the staff on his shoulder. "Instead, we'll focus on your technique. Power and speed are good, but without proper technique, they're nothing."

Eragon nodded, pleased that Brom wasn't pressing him further about his mysterious strength. He watched as Brom demonstrated the correct way to hold a sword, how to position his feet, and how to balance his weight. Eragon mimicked Brom's movements, and soon they began practicing basic sword strikes, blocks, and parries.

The hours passed quickly as Brom critiqued Eragon's form and made him repeat the movements until they became more natural. Saphira watched with interest, occasionally letting out a low growl or snort of amusement when Eragon made a mistake or stumbled.

Despite the hard work, Eragon found himself enjoying the process. He was learning quickly, his enhanced reflexes and strength giving him an advantage in mastering the techniques Brom showed him.

As the evening sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the ground, Brom finally lowered his staff and wiped the sweat from his brow.

"That's enough for today," Brom said, his voice tired but satisfied.

They made their way back to the cave, where they started a small fire and prepared a simple meal of dried meat, fruits, and bread. As they ate in comfortable silence, Brom stared into the fire, seemingly lost in thought.

After dinner, the fire crackled softly in the cave, the warmth of it wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. Brom leaned back, his face thoughtful as the night grew darker. Eventually, he stood up, brushing crumbs from his cloak.

"I'll leave now," Brom said, his voice breaking the silence. "I'll be back tomorrow morning to continue your training."

Eragon, still sitting by the fire, looked up and nodded. "We'll be waiting, teacher."

For a moment, Brom froze, his back still turned to Eragon. The word "teacher" hung in the air between them, carrying more weight than Eragon likely realized. Slowly, Brom turned his head, just enough for Eragon to catch the faintest glimpse of the old man's face.

A small smile tugged at Brom's lips—one of quiet pride and satisfaction. Without saying a word, he gave a subtle nod and continued his way out of the cave. As he stepped into the night, his smile lingered, illuminated briefly by the moonlight before he disappeared into the shadows of the Spine.