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Instead of Arya, I prefer her mom (Chapter 11)
🕑 Added 2023-09-13 16:41:07 +0000 UTCBrom only showed up the next day, after noon. He looked, well… not like the person Cedric had gotten to know, seeming ten years younger and in an annoyingly good mood.
The boy wasn’t too surprised—in the novel, when Brom met Saphira for the first time, he literally cried tears of joy. It was somewhat understandable, given the events of his past, losing not only his own dragon, but his entire order.
To Brom, likely having started to feel hope was lost, a new rider emerging after a hundred years would be… an indescribable sensation. And for that person to be his own son, bonded with a dragon similar in appearance and identical in name to his own…
Cedric decided to let him have his fun, skipping about the place like a newlywed wife. However, after gathering supplies, when Brom tried running off without him, he firmly gripped the old rider’s cloak.
“Judging from your attitude, I’ll assume I was correct, as I usually am.”
His words brought Brom’s head back from the clouds, the fuzzy look in his grey eyes sharpening to clarity. Meeting Cedric’s own, his expression turned slightly suspicious.
“Usually, one would have others sing their praises. Doing it yourself is unseemly. That being said, I can’t help wondering how you caught on. Guessing the ‘stone’ was an egg, well, that’s understandable. But how were you certain of it belonging to a dragon…?”
Shrugging, Cedric crossed his arms in front of his chest.
“I wasn’t. I only discovered its existence while occupying the mind of a bird.”
It was, of course, a lie, but a plausible one, which Brom couldn’t confirm nor deny.
The old man’s brows furrowed, his features angrily drawing together.
“You did… what? Are my words nothing but air to you, boy? How many times have I told you, without my supervision, you are not allowed-…!”
Cedric waved his hand, fed up with being babied. For god’s sake, he’d been doing magic since he was three years old, and telepathy since four! The training-wheels had been off for far too long, and he was completely unwilling to put them back on again.
“I already did it and nothing happened, so there’s no sense in blowing your top. Besides, if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have a clue about that giant blue lizard, flying around outside town.”
Being interrupted, along with Cedric’s laissez-faire attitude made a vein pulse near Brom’s temple.
“…you think that excuses anything? I’m telling you to be patient for your own good! Do you know how many wizard-apprentices are six feet under, dead and buried because they got too big for their own breeches? Neither do I, because there’s too damned many of them!”
In an attempt to restrain himself, Brom practically hissed between his teeth. Grabbing Cedric’s arm, he dragged the two of them out of the house and into a back-street.
“Where are we going?”
“To see the dragon, of course. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? But don’t think this is over. You and me will settle this once we get back…!”
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Both equally stubborn and unwilling to give ground, so their journey was dead-silent. Eventually, when they drew close, Brom broke the silence, holding his arm in-front of Cedric.
“I’ll go first, you remain behind. Don’t follow until I signal you.”
Sending one last stern look over his shoulder, he disappeared behind the foliage.
Cedric rolled his eyes, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed. However, he understood the need for caution—him suddenly showing up would only rattle Eragon and his dragon. Despite his confidence in his own abilities, Cedric would rather not deal with a hostile, fire-breathing monster.
After about five minutes, he imagined hearing sounds in the distance. He’d bet good money voices were being raised, though it eventually quieted down. It was only after about half an hour that something touched his mind, and Cedric lowered his mental barriers.
‘Well, are you going to stand there all day? Get over here. And be polite when you introduce yourself.’
Having touched minds with Brom before, Cedric recognized him immediately. He had a unique brand of crotchety world-weariness, though with an undercurrent of joy—likely influenced by recent events.
Their connection cut off abruptly before he could reply. Chuckling to himself, Cedric made his way up the forested hill. Eragon was going to be pissed.
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Eragon was pissed. The self-loathing he felt over causing Saphira to be discovered made him want to bawl his eyes out. It was only by sheer luck that things didn’t turn out for the worst—if it’d been anyone but Brom, they would’ve had a disaster on their hands.
He still couldn’t get over the fact that the old storyteller knew so much about dragons, and could communicate with Saphira. How was that even possible? To make matters worse, she trusted him for some reason, one she was unwilling to disclose. Why were they keeping secrets from him? What was going on? He didn’t understand!
And now, someone else was coming! A person Eragon didn’t know the identity of, nor approved of. But did he get a say? No, of course not! He felt furious and betrayed, and Saphira’s soothings didn’t help him feel better, not one bit.
Currently, she slunk behind his legs, her shoulders already coming to hip-height. In a week, she’d gone from being about the size of an eagle to the size of a wolf. Her mind had matured as well. Initially monosyllabic, she could already string together short sentences. It was inconceivable, but then again, she was a dragon…
Leaves rustled and branches snapped as their ‘guest’ revealed himself. To Eragon’s shock, it was none other than Cid! If ever he was confused before, he was doubly so now.
For a moment, the air was tense, thick enough to cut with a knife. Then, the old storyteller spoke up, addressing Cedric.
“Well? Don’t stand around like a moron. Fitch taught you manners, didn’t he?”
Dressed sharply in leather boots, leggings and a cloak, the red-haired youth rolled his eyes. Sticking his hands in his vest pockets, he approached slowly, looking from Eragon to Saphira.
“So, you’re the famous dragon? Smaller than I expected, and not nearly as ferocious. I’m Cedric, Brom’s apprentice, I guess. It’s… a pleasure.”
Saphira stared wordlessly at him, her jewel-like eyes reflecting the light, scattering it into a rainbow. Eragon sensed some caution in her, along with faint curiosity.
‘I thought only dragons were different colors. But you are brown, Brom is silver, and he is red. How strange.’
He heard her voice in his mind, letting in a tendril of thought so her message could be relayed.
‘…Brom is just old, and most people in Carvahall have brown hair and eyes. Cedric’s parents were from out-of-town.’
Answering begrudgingly, his gaze returned to Cedric.
“She returns your greetings.”
“…is that so?”
The uneasiness threated to return as the two teenagers stood across from each other, like some kind of stand-off. Once again, Eragon became aware of the mystery shrouding his ‘friend’, like a layer of mist. Though his wariness didn’t dissipate, some of his anger did. Somehow, it didn’t surprise him that much, for Cedric to suddenly show up here…
“Well, are you going to tell him, or should I? We already know Eragon’s secret, it’s only fair if he learned ours… one of them, at least.”
Hearing what his ‘apprentice’ said, Brom frowned. Whatever Cedric suggested, he didn’t look like he approved.
“Do you never learn? We talked about it not more than an hour ago, yet you’re already defying me. Damn it, this is why I’d rather have left you behind…”
Eragon’s eyes moved between the old storyteller and Cedric, seeing a faint smile on the other boy’s face.
“Well, you know what they say—in for a penny, in for a pound. Besides, I can hardly expect Eragon to trust me if I don’t give him my trust in return.”
Before Brom could offer further protest, he lifted his right hand, clenched into a fist. Slowly, he unfurled his fingers, and when he did, glowing streaks of energy suddenly manifested, crackling and buzzing. There was a miniature lightning storm in his palm, streaking with azure and violet bolts!
Eragon stood with his mouth open, wondering if he was dreaming. The spectacle was so crazy, so impossible that he felt lightheaded. He took a step back, his hand against his forehead, unable to tear his gaze away.
“You’re… you’re a wizard? How…? Since when…?”
Despite having his own dragon, he simply couldn’t wrap his head around magic being real. Never mind the local grain-merchant's grandson being one! It was ridiculous, like something out of a dream!
Cedric flicked his fingers, the electricity disappearing in a flash of sparks.
“It isn’t just me, Brom is too. Though he refuses to teach me any of his spells… Anyway, I know your secret, and you know mine. I’ll keep my mouth shut, and I’m counting on you to do the same.”
Suddenly, his cheery attitude vanished, a gloom settling over him.
“If Galbatorix finds out and gets his hands on us, well… the consequences don’t bare thinking about.”
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