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Instead of Arya, I prefer her mom (Chapter 6)
🕑 Added 2023-09-06 15:19:35 +0000 UTCAfter wandering around for a bit, Cedric soon realized he had little interest in the goings-on. Eragon’s return was really bugging him, and the fact that he hadn’t decided on a course of action only added to his stress. So he did what he always did when he couldn’t solve a problem—make it someone else’s.
It wasn’t too hard to find Brom, who he’d only seen briefly this morning. The storyteller was in and amongst the merchants, haggling over this and that. With entertainment and novelty being hard to find this far north, everyone in the village was already up at dawn, scouring the market.
“Hey, old man.”
Coming up behind him, he jostled Brom with his elbow.
“I have a name, Cedric. Or would you rather prefer I address you as brat every time we speak?”
Cedric shrugged.
“I have something important to tell you. It’s related to what we discussed… last night.”
Hearing this, Brom finally looked away from the shelf in front of him, stocked with ceramic jars, labeled and scrawled with illegible handwriting.
“Is that so?”
Cedric met his grey eyes, nodding slowly. His usual flippancy was nowhere to be seen.
“It’s… urgent. At least, I think so.”
Brom huffed, sounding like he didn’t quite believe the boy, but bid farewell to the dark-skinned peddler anyway.
“Fine. Let’s hear what’s gotten your knickers into such a twist.”
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On the outskirts, Brom lit his pipe, staring into the distance. Though winter was on its way, and the trees had started shedding their leaves, the scenery was still beautiful.
He took a slow drag, mulling over what Cedric had just told him. If it were someone else, they might’ve been disbelieving, or if they did believe, they would’ve panicked. However, in his years, he’d long gotten used to such oddities.
It was a while before he spoke.
“…and these visions, you’ve had them for how long?”
Behind him, Cedric cleared his throat, seated on a large boulder. Only thirteen, he was far from being fully grown, so his feet didn’t touch the ground.
“Thinking back, I thought they started only recently. But I realize it’s been longer than that. When I fell into the river and almost drowned, I had an eerily similar nightmare. Gramps’ death as well…”
His words were jerky and his tone hitched, but Brom waited patiently for him to finish.
“…I don’t know. It’s not like a normal dream. It feels different. This one especially. I’m not asking you to do anything, but, well… since you’re a wizard and everything, and you’ve been doing it longer than me, I thought I should at least tell you.”
Brom exhaled slowly, emitting a steady stream of blue-ish smoke. It coalesced into the shape of a deer, galloping onward and upward, soon disappearing into the sky.
Cedric raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“You didn’t see their faces, these two ‘figures’? And are you sure there were only two? How about the burning house? Did you recognize it? Where there other houses nearby?”
“…”
Suddenly bombarded with questions, the boy collected his thoughts before answering.
“No, I only saw their black cloaks. Their hoods were too dark to see faces. However, they were kind of… I don’t know, hunched? As for the burning house, there weren’t other houses nearby…”
His voice wavered, as if he wasn’t sure whether to share the next part. Brom didn’t press him, waiting patiently for Cedric to continue.
“…it seems a bit ridiculous, but if I were to make a guess, I’d say it was, well… uncle Garrow’s farm. But what would those… figureswant with him? Even if you told me he was also a wizard in hiding, I wouldn’t believe it. He’s too, I don’t know…”
The storyteller chuckled, but it sounded humorless. Though he controlled his composure well, he clearly wasn’t too happy about Cedric’s revelation.
“Yes indeed. Garrow’s about the furthest thing from a wizard you could find. Your story is interesting, but it could just be a coincidence.”
The boy’s expression immediately changed, extremely uneasy because of Brom’s disregard, but the old man appeased him.
“Don’t make that face, I didn’t say I was going to ignore you. It’d be better for us all if it was just nonsense, but on the off chance you’re not full of it…”
He dragged and puffed one last time before extinguishing his pipe.
“…then I’d best make preparations.”
Cedric sighed in relief, but when Brom suddenly turned and left, he hurriedly stopped him.
“Where are you going? If something bad’s about to happen, shouldn’t you… teach me something?”
Brom raised a grey eyebrow, bemused.
“Like what, magic? There’ll be a time for that, but that time isn’t now. Like I said, I have my own preparations to make. Besides, you’re not ready. You’ll need to learn to be patient if you’re resolved to walk a path… similar to mine.”
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Cedric spent the rest of the day in his old house, thinking. It was extremely quiet without Fitch, even a little unsettling. All his grandfather’s things, his old clothes, even the bowl he always ate out of… made his chest sting unpleasantly.
Unable to bear it inside, he eventually relocated to the rocking chair on the front porch, listening to the rustling grass and leaves, and distant flowing water. The sky was mostly clear, with lazily drifting white-cotton clouds.
He thought about a lot of things—his life here, his mysterious parents, staying with Brom, the unpleasantness that’d soon arrive… and as always, when given enough time, his mind inevitably turned to magic.
From what he remembered of the books, as well as his limited scientific knowledge, the first law of thermodynamics applied—that energy was conserved, not appearing or disappearing into thin air.
However, the more he considered the feats of magic he’d read about, the more he realized something fishy was going on. He could give many examples, but Brom’s tomb in the first book was a particularly good one.
Turning sand into diamond seemed like it wasn’t that big of a deal. If the material had a high enough carbon content, that is. However, that was only if one didn’t think further than surface level.
Natural diamonds required tremendous amounts of heat and pressure to produce. The energy needed for such a spell would kill anyone a thousand times over, even if they were a dragon. Taking Saphira’s eldunari into account, where she’d likely been storing energy even in her egg form, he still felt it was impossible.
Yet, even if the energy issue was set aside, there was the problem of volume. The volume-ratio of sand to diamond was very far from being one-to-one. However, there was no mention in the novel of her using mountains of sand to condense the amount of diamond necessary for Brom’s entire tomb.
Chemical processes could also produce diamond, but not out of sandstone. Instead, a different carbon-based material—something not too dissimilar from crude oil, or natural coal – was needed. Needless to say, that wasn’t present at the time.
Was she indeed creating matter out of thin air, or was it transported from somewhere else? Both feats would still require absolutely ludicrous amounts of energy… and after making the tomb, Saphira showed no signs of exhaustion.
This put Cedric in a predicament. Either, he’d continue investigating magic by using the laws from Earth, which may end up having limited use, or he’d have to try and figure out how this reality-defying magic worked.
The latter would be extremely difficult, and he’d get no help from Brom nor the elves. After all, they assumed the same as himself—that magic obeyed fundamental laws, like conservation of energy.
Unable to reach a conclusion, he struggled with the problem until the sun hung low in the sky.
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When a certain boy reappeared out of the Spine, clutching some kind of bundle in his arms, Cedric was the first to meet him. He didn’t know whether it was a good or bad idea to show up at this time, but he simply couldn’t resist.
“Oh, is that you, Eragon? You’re back, then? Are you alright? It’s getting colder, and the sun’s almost set.”
The soon-to-be dragon rider raised his head sharply, surprised by Cedric’s voice. He soon spotted the other boy, sitting casually in a tree, legs dangling down.
“Cedric? What are you…?”
His confusion was unsurprising, given they were a distance from Carvahall. Why was Cedric all the way out here? Especially given the merchants had already arrived, or so Eragon guessed from the furrowed, wagon-tracked roads and the distant noise.
The watery, orange orb, halfway under the horizon, glinted off Cedric’s red hair and amber eyes. As he jumped from the tree, landing neatly a few yards away, he gave off a strange, ethereal impression.
Eragon watched him approach. Not for the first time, he felt there was something odd about the redhead. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was.
Aside from his appearance, there wasn’t anything too extraordinary about him. Perhaps it was his tone, always calm and measured, unlike others his age. Otherwise, it could be his eyes – not their color, though it was striking enough – but the look in them… like he knew something you didn’t.
“The town’s so noisy with all the travelers, and I needed a place to clear my head…”
Stopping a few armlengths away, he met Eragon’s eyes, his face looking a bit wan and pale. His usual mischievous façade, with the corner of his mouth quirked upward, was missing.
“…gramps passed away three days ago, just after you left. I don’t mean to trouble you, it just is what it is.”
Eragon’s eyes widened, clearly shocked. There was a burst of sadness in his chest, not for Fitch’s passing – he barely knew or interacted with the senior – but for Cedric. He knew the other boy didn’t have any family left, given his parents abandonment.
What was it like, to be all alone? Eragon couldn’t image it, nor did he want to…
“I’m so sorry.”
His adam’s apple bobbed, swallowing. Taking a step, he reduced the distance between himself and Cedric. He wanted to comfort him somehow, but wasn’t sure if the other boy would be comfortable getting a hug.
Cedric raised his hands sharply, taking a step back.
“Don’t. It’s just… I’m fine.”
His sharp rejection turned the atmosphere awkward. Eragon seemed both apologetic and a little hurt.
“…”
“By the way, you look like you’re holding onto something. Is that your kill, or…?”
Walking to the side, he made room for Eragon to join him on the road.
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