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The Inheritance Cycle: Getting My Wish Fulfilled (Eragon)

A guy dies and is reborn in The Inheritance Cycle world with some advantages. What will he do now?

CouchPotatoDandy · Bücher und Literatur
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25 Chs

Chapter 25: Confrontation

[2,843 words]

As the trio—Eragon, Brom, and Saphira—continued their journey deeper into the Beor Mountains, Brom let out a long, relieved sigh, feeling the cool mountain air wash over him. The relentless heat and blinding sun of the Hadarac Desert were finally behind them.

Brom, perched on Saphira's back, looked down at the Eragon and Saphira with a sense of accomplishment. They had traversed a harsh and unforgiving landscape, and now, the imposing peaks and shadowed valleys of the Beors surrounded them, offering a sense of shelter and safety.

Eragon, still running on the ground below, carried Arya in his arms. His breaths remained steady even though the terrain had become increasingly difficult, with jagged rocks and steep inclines, he moved with a grace that belied the effort it took to maintain such speed. The cool air felt refreshing against his skin, and he welcomed it after the oppressive desert heat.

Although with his Heat and Cold Resistance he didn't exactly suffer in the desert, Eragon could still feel the high temperatures. Just because he doesn't get hurt by low and high temperatures, doesn't mean he enjoy them..

Brom, observing Eragon's tireless pace from above, couldn't help but feel numb. The boy's stamina was nothing short of extraordinary, and he felt himself tierd of the emotional rollercoasters he went through this past few days.

Saphira, too, was attuned to Eragon's efforts, and she sent him feelings of encouragement through their bond, her presence a comforting warmth in his mind.

As they ventured further into the mountain range, Eragon remained on high alert. His senses were sharp, and he continuously sent his mind out in all directions, probing the environment for any signs of life. The animals and life forms he encountered only heightened his vigilance.

No dwarfs, no humans, no urgals, no threats of any kind. It was as if the mountains were holding their breath, waiting for something.

Eragon knew from his knowledge of the original story that the Beor Mountains should have been teeming with Urgals, sent by Durza to hunt down the Varden and any potential threats to Galbatorix's rule. Yet here, there was nothing. It was as if they had arrived far ahead of schedule, in a timeline where the urgals hadn't yet been deployed.

He glanced up at Saphira, her massive wings slicing through the air effortlessly as she soared above him.'Perhaps we really are ahead of the original timeline by that much.. Otherwise I can't make sense of this.' he thought, his mind racing through the possibilities.

After several hours of navigating the treacherous terrain, dusk began to settle over the mountains, painting the sky with hues of orange and purple. The trio came to a stop, choosing a small, sheltered clearing to rest for the night. The setting sun cast long shadows across the ground, and the temperature dropped significantly, the chill of the mountains creeping into their bones.

Brom dismounted from Saphira and immediately moved to check on Arya's condition. Eragon watched closely as Brom knelt beside her as he channeled magic to assess her health. The older man's brow furrowed in concentration, and his face was set in a grim line.

Eragon stayed silent, observing from a few paces away. Arya, despite the severity of her injuries and the poison coursing through her veins, looked peaceful as she lay in front of Brom.

Her once-bruised and cut skin had healed completely over the past few days. Her white skin was smooth and unmarked with no trace of the abuse she had endured under Durza's cruel hand. A stark contrast to the tortured state she had been in when they first rescued her. Yet, she remained unconscious, her eyes closed as if in a deep sleep. It was the only sign that something was still gravely wrong.

Brom finished his examination and stood up, dusting off his hands. Eragon, sensing the tension in the air, broke the silence.

"How is she?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern. Broom was much more knowledgeable and experienced than himself at assessing injuries.

Eragon wasn't asking out of obligation; true, Arya was a key figure in the events to come, and her survival was crucial to the outcome he desired.

But there was something undeniably compelling about her. Arya wasn't just important because of her role; she was, without a doubt, the most stunning woman Eragon had ever laid eyes on, both in this life and his past one. The idea of her life slipping away ignited a fierce determination within him. 'Which man wouldn't want to protect and help a beautie like her if he can?' he thought.

Brom sighed, his shoulders heavy with the weight of his words. "The poison has spread further," he said, his voice low and serious. "It's infiltrated her organs now. She won't last more than a few days like this." He paused, glancing up at the sky as if searching for the right words. "Fortunately, we're close. If all goes well, we should reach Farthen Dûr tomorrow. The Varden's and dwarf's healers should be able to cure her of this accursed poison."

Eragon nodded, his mind already calculating the time they had left. 'Just one more day', he thought. 'We will make it.'

The determination in his eyes mirrored the resolve in his heart. He would see Arya saved. The thought of earning the gratitude of a beautie like Arya, of the elves, and by extension, gaining favor with Queen Islanzadí, was already bringing a smile to his face.

That night, they rested under the watchful gaze of the towering mountains. The stars were obscured by the peaks, but the moonlight filtered down in slivers, casting an ethereal glow over the landscape. Eragon lay close to Saphira, his hand resting on her warm scales as she blocked Brom line of sight.

Brom took the first watch, his eyes scanning the darkness for any signs of danger. The silence was unnerving, but after the grueling journey through the desert, it was a welcome reprieve.

The next morning, they set out again at first light, continuing their journey deeper into the heart of the Beor Mountains. The day passed in a blur of rugged paths and steep inclines, the sun casting long shadows as it began its descent behind the towering peaks. By twilight, the sky was painted in shades of deep blue and purple, and the air was filled with the sound of distant waterfalls and the rustling of leaves in the wind.

As they reached a particularly steep incline, Brom raised his hand, signaling for Saphira to stop. "We've arrived," he announced, his voice carrying a note of relief.

As Saphira informed Eragon, he slowed to a stop, still holding Arya securely in his arms.

Swoosh~ Rumble~

Saphira landed gracefully beside them, her wings folding neatly against her sides. Brom dismounted, his eyes scanning the area as he took in their surroundings. They were standing before a massive waterfall, its waters crashing down into a pool below with a deafening roar. The spray from the waterfall filled the air with a fine mist, cooling the area around them.

Swoosh~ Rumble~ Splash~

Eragon shifted Arya slightly in his arms, feeling the weight of her unconscious form. His senses tingled, alerting him to the fact that they were being watched. He could feel several presences around them, hidden from sight but unmistakably there. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the area, though he saw nothing.

Just as Brom turned to face the waterfall, his mouth opening to speak, Eragon interrupted him. "Brom," he said, his voice firm, "don't forget what you promised me when we left Carvahall…"

Brom turned to look at him, his expression one of mild surprise mixed with curiosity. He nodded slowly, recalling the promise he had made to Eragon. "Don't worry, I remember." he replied.

Satisfied, Eragon gave a small nod, and Brom turned back to the waterfall. Taking a deep breath, Brom shouted something in a deep, resonant voice, the words foreign to Eragon's ears. The language was harsh and guttural, unlike anything Eragon had heard before. 'That must be Dwarvish', he thought, his mind piecing together the information.

They stood there, enveloped in the steady roar of the waterfall, waiting in tense silence. The moments stretched on, and still, nothing happened. Eragon felt a smirk begin to play at the edges of his lips, the quiet growing more absurd by the second.

He stole a glance at Brom, his eyes glinting with barely contained mischief. "You sure this is the right place?" he asked, his tone dripping with playful sarcasm. "It's been a while since you were last here, and, well, memory does tend to fade with age, doesn't it?"

Brom turned to him with a glare that was more annoyed than angry, his brows knitting together in irritation. "Disrespectful brat..." he grumbled, the lines on his face deepening. "I've forgotten more than you'll ever know." The sharpness of his words was undercut by the lack of real malice in his voice, revealing a hint of fondness beneath the gruff exterior.

Eragon chuckled, but before he could respond, Brom turned back to the waterfall and shouted again, this time with more force. "Open the path, you fools, or I'll come in there and kick your butts so hard you'll have a boot mark for days!"

"Hahaha" Eragon couldn't hold back his laughter at Brom's outburst, his shoulders shaking with mirth. Even Saphira let out an amused rumble, her eyes gleaming with humor.

Clnk~ Rumble~

This time, there was a response. A faint rumble echoed through the ground as the waterfall began to split in two, revealing a hidden cave behind it. The water parted smoothly, as if an invisible hand had commanded it to move, and within the cave, a group of men and dwarves stood, weapons in hand.

The men held swords and spears, while the dwarves brandished axes and hammers. A few of them even had arrows nocked and ready to fire, their eyes trained on the newcomers with caution, especially on Saphira, whose massive form dominated the entrance.

The tension in the air was palpable. Among the group stood a bald man with sharp features and a commanding presence. He stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over the trio with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. "Who are you, and what are you doing here? How did you know of this secret entrance and the password?" he demanded, his voice carrying a note of authority.

Brom stepped forward, exuding calm. "My name is Brom," he began, his voice steady. "I once served with the Varden many years ago. Now, I've returned, bringing with me the new Dragon Rider. We've come seeking refuge, and we've also managed to rescue Arya from the clutches of the Empire. However, she's been poisoned and is in desperate need of immediate care."

The bald man narrowed his eyes, his face hardening with suspicion. "Brom, the first leader of the Varden? Do you have any proof? Else why should I believe you?" he challenged, his tone edged with doubt. "For all I know, you could be spies, sent by the Empire to worm your way into our ranks."

Before Brom could say a word, a stout dwarf from the group stepped forward, his braided beard swaying as he moved. He was middle-aged, with a fierce expression etched into his rugged features. "Are you blind, man?" he barked, his voice thick with outrage. "That boy right there, is standing next to a frickin dragon and is holding Arya in his arms! If that doesn't prove they are speaking the truth, what will?"

The bald man turned to the dwarf with a stern glare. "Orik, fall back in line and keep your mouth shut!"

But the dwarf, now identified as Orik, wasn't about to be silenced. He squared his shoulders, stepping closer, his eyes blazing with defiance. "And what of Arya?" he shot back, his voice rising. "Are you seriously suggesting she's a spy too?"

The bald man hesitated, his fierce expression faltering for a brief moment. Then, with a curt nod, he gestured to two of the men standing nearby. "You two! Take Arya to the healers. Immediately."

"O-ok"

The two men moved toward Eragon with visible hesitation, their gazes darting nervously between the unconscious Arya and the towering figure of Saphira. Eragon noticed their apprehension and, unable to resist, grinned mischievously. "Don't worry," he said, amusement lacing his tone. "She just ate, so she isn't hungry at the moment. Probably..."

The men's faces turned ashen, their expressions morphing into horror. "Hahah..." Eragon laughed heartily, but Brom shot him a disapproving look.

Saphira, who had been observing silently, huffed and nudged Eragon with her snout, her discontent clear. 'You know I don't eat people,' she chided him telepathically.

'Sorry sorry, I just couldn't help myself,' Eragon responded with a smile, a hint of apology in his thoughts.

Brom sighed and addressed the two men. "Don't be afraid. He's just jesting."

Despite Brom's reassurance, the men still hesitated, glancing at each other uneasily. It wasn't until the bald man yelled from behind them, "Get on with it already!" that they finally moved forward, though with visible reluctance.

Eragon shook his head and, seeing their discomfort, decided to meet them halfway. With Arya still cradled in his arms, he walked toward them, closing the distance. The two men, clearly relieved by his approach, quickly took Arya from him and retreated behind their companions, disappearing into the cave.

The bald man's attention returned to Eragon and Brom. "Now that Arya is out of the way," he said, his tone as stern as ever, "you both must open your minds to me, so I can ensure you're not spies."

Orik gave the bald man a disapproving look but remained silent this time. This was the norm to root out spies in the Varden, and even though he doesn't like it, he understands the necessity.

Eragon, now back at Saphira's side, stared at the bald man in disbelief. "So, you're one of those types who gets a kick out of poking around in other people's minds, huh?" he quipped, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "I had a feeling there was something off about you, bald head"

Brom shot Eragon a helpless glance. "If you stay silent sometimes, no one would think you a fool," he muttered, just loud enough for Eragon to hear.

Eragon mentally flipped Brom a middle finger. "Is that so?" he quietly replied back to Brom, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Then why don't you go ahead and let this bald man see all your dirty little secrets?"

Brom sighed deeply and turned back to the bald man. "Where is Ajihad?" he asked, his voice firm. "He knows me. Call him here, and this can all be resolved."

The bald man frowned, shaking his head. "Ajihad is busy. And from where I stand this all thing might be a trap to lure our leader into the open, I won't call him here." he replied curtly. Then, with a final, unwavering stare, he added, "So, are you going to open your minds for inspection or not? If you refuse, we'll have to consider you empire spies and deal with you accordingly."

Brom's eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. He took a deep breath, clearly struggling to keep his temper in check. "You still think this is some kind of trick?" he said, his voice low but laced with growing frustration. "We've risked our lives to get here, brought you a Dragon Rider and Arya—both of whom are vital to the Varden's cause—and you have the audacity to question our intentions?"

The bald man's expression remained hardened. "The Empire's deceptions know no bounds. I can't allow even the slightest mistake. I'll say it again—drop your mind's shields for inspection, or we'll be forced to act!"

Brom clenched his fists, fighting the urge to lash out. "I've told you who I am—Brom, once leader of the Varden and Ajihad can confirm this if you just bring him over. And if you had any sense, you'd realize that forcing a Dragon Rider and his dragon to be your enemies is the last mistake you'd ever make. But if you insist on this foolishness, then do what you must." His voice then turned cold, laced with a deadly promise. "But if you're determined to push this to a fight, just know this—I'll be the one to kill you personally!"

---

A/N: Brom gave up his leadership of the Varden to Deynor many years ago, and it was Deynor who recruited the twins. Now it's Ajihad time as the Varden leader. So I think it's logical no one recognize Brom.

A/N: I will have to take a break for about a week due a personal reasons. But I understand it's mean to leave you in a cliffhanger like this, so I will do my best to at least publish the next chapter before I take my break.

See you guys in a week!